0060. Secundur's Letter to his Mother

From Oral Tradition from the Indus by J.F.A. McNair and T. L. Barlow, will illustrations by L. Fenn, online at: Hathi Trust.

Notes. Secundur Zulf-Kur-Nain is "Al-Iskandar Dhul-Qarnayn," Alexander the Great, as celebrated in Islamic legend. You can read more about this Islamic branch of the Alexander Romance tradition at Wikipedia. This letter from Secundur to his mother is just part of a series of anecdotes about Secundur which you can read in the book: Secundur Zulf-Kur-Nain. This particular anecdote parallels the story of Kisagotami and the Buddha, with Secundur playing the role of the Buddha.

Summary: Before his death, Secundur composes a letter to help his mother deal with her grief.

Read the story below:

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SECUNDUR'S LETTER TO HIS MOTHER

(Alexander the Great)

Being very sorrowful, Secundur sent one day for two or three of his Ministers and said to them, “My home is yet a long way off, and who can tell whether I shall live to return to it? so I am going to give you a command, and you are to write down what I say; and should I die suddenly, the letter which you shall write at my dictation, and which I will sign, and which you will keep, shall be
at my death sent to my mother and delivered into her
hands. Now write as follows:

From your son Secundur: I am near dying, and have had this letter written to you and have signed it myself. It is the custom of this country that when a person dies in a family, cooked bread is always given away in charity to the poor, for it is supposed to do good to the deceased. Now, I am going to ask you when you hear of my death, only to give cooked bread in charity to those who have never lost a relation. Again, should you ever come to the place of my burial and call out, ‘Secundur, Zulf-kur-Nain,’ I will reply to you from my grave.

Now the first request was so designed because Alexander knew that his mother could not find a family that had not to mourn some loss or other; and she would thus come to see that she was not alone in her grief, and that all human beings were afflicted with the death of relatives.

As the tale goes, said the narrator, Secundur did die, and was buried, and the letter was sent to his mother.

0045. The Wise Physician

From Eastern Stories and Legends by Marie L. Shedlock, online at: Baldwin Project.

Notes. The story of Kisagotami is a famous Buddhist parable; you can read more about the story at Wikipedia. The verses at the end are not part of the original story; instead, Marie Shedlock added them to the story, as she explains in her note: "The following lines, ascribed to some of her Sisters in the Order and given in the Psalms (translated by Mrs. Rhys Davids), would apply to Kisagotami."

Summary: A woman named Kisagotami who is grieving for her dead child goes to Gautama Buddha for help.

Read the story below:

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THE WISE PHYSICIAN

(statue of Buddha in Ladakh, by J. Choe)

Kisagotami is the name of a young girl whose marriage with the only son of a wealthy man was brought about in true fairy-tale fashion. She had one child, but when the beautiful boy could run alone, it died. The young girl in her love for it carried the dead child clasped to her bosom, and went from house to house of her pitying friends asking them to give her medicine for it.

But a Buddhist mendicant, thinking, "She does not understand," said to her: "My good girl, I myself have no such medicine as you ask for, but I think I know of one who has."

"Oh, tell me who that is!" said Kisagotami.

"The Buddha can give you medicine: go to him," was the answer.

She went to Gautama and, doing homage to him, said: "Lord and Master, do you know any medicine that will be good for my child?"

"Yes, I know of some," said the Teacher.

Now it was the custom for patients or their friends to provide the herbs which the doctors required, so she asked what herbs he would want.

"I want some mustard-seed," he said; and when the poor girl eagerly promised to bring some of so common a drug, he added: "You must get it from some house where no son, or husband, or parent, or slave has died."

"Very good," she said, and went to ask for it, still carrying her dead child with her.

The people said: "Here is mustard-seed, take it."

But when she asked, "In my friend’s house has any son died, or a husband, or a parent, or slave?" they answered: "Lady! what is this that thou sayest; the living are few, but the dead are many."

Then she went to other houses, but one said: "I have lost a son"; another, "We have lost our parents"; another, "I have lost my slave."

At last, not being able to find a single house where no one had died, her mind began to clear, and, summoning up resolution, she left the dead body of her child in a forest, and returning to the Buddha paid him homage.

He said to her: "Have you the mustard-seed?"

"My Lord," she replied, "I have not; the people tell me that the living are few, but the dead are many."

Then he talked to her on that essential part of his system—the impermanency of all things, till her doubts were cleared away, and, accepting her lot, she became a disciple and entered the first Path.

"Lo! from my heart the hidden shaft is gone,

The shaft that nestled there hath he removed;

And that consuming grief for my dear child,

Which poisoned all the life of me, is dead.

To-day my heart is healed, my yearning stayed,

Perfected the deliverance wrought in me."