Boleh Tahan ~ WHAT IS DHARMA?
IT WAS IN 1969
THAT I FIRST SAW the pearly glory of the Taj Mahal,
and though I have been back several times since, I’ll
never forget that time.
The gleaming domes and minarets are visible
from afar, but awe and suspense mount as you get nearer
to the vast walled compound. Entering the gate—itself
a marvel—you gasp, for there, beyond the symmetry
of the reflecting pool and geometrical gardens, shimmers
the vision you’ve come to see. It seems so near
that you feel you could reach out and touch the smooth
white marble, but the tiny figures up against it remind
you that it is actually still some distance away.
Walking reverently down the path, you reach
the terrace and remove your sandals; the marble feels
so cool; does it not absorb the sun’s heat?
With heightened rapture, you approach the shrine,
its walls inset with arabesques and floral motifs
done in gemstones—agate, jade, turquoise, lapis
lazuli—28 kinds of them, all told. Through the
massive doorway you pass into the dim interior of
the tomb, where a splendid sarcophagus hides the bones
of Shah Jahan, beside those of his beloved wife, Mumtaz,
to whom he had raised the mausoleum. The dome is so
immense and lofty that the slightest noise causes
an echo. In those days, there were fewer tourists,
so I was able to enjoy this wonder in peace (it is
different now, sad to say). I recall the thrill I
felt to play a flute inside; the silvery sounds reverberated
and lingered on the still, cool air!
The gardens of the Taj are alive with birds
and animals. Green parrots screech their zigzag way
between the trees, halting suddenly against trunk
or limb; the ubiquitous crows caw hungrily, eyes keen
for scraps of food; striped palm squirrels scamper
hither and thither, tails twitching. Soaring high
above, vultures effortlessly rise on the thermal currents,
scanning the earth beneath for signs of death; on
land, their ungainly bodies are repulsive, but in
the air they are graceful masters of flight; the turn
of a feather or twist of a wing tip sends them spiraling
higher, or plunging swiftly; it’s fascinating
to watch them until they are just tiny dots against
the boundless blue. Nor are they alone in their airy
realm; it is shared by other birds of prey: eagles,
hawks and kites.
Security wasn’t as tight as it later
became, so, with two friends—Laurie, from Sydney,
and Bruce, from Edmonton—I stayed inside the
gardens after closing time, though we knew it was
not allowed (nice to break the law sometimes, isn’t
it? We did no harm). Spreading our sleeping bags on
the lawns, we settled down to watch. There, within
the space of twelve hours, we were privileged to see
the Taj change in different lights: sunset, rain,
full moon, and sunrise—a pleasure few have had.
Countless people have tried to describe this
marble poem, but words fail to do it justice; it is
simply ineffable. Those who have never seen it themselves
can’t get a clear idea of it from words; if
you want to understand what people have been talking
about and eulogizing for so long, there is no other
way but to go and see. If you see only this in India,
it is worth a visit, but of course, there are so many
other marvelous places.
In this and other books, I have often used
the word Dharma—and sometimes, Universal Dharma—so
now, before someone who is not intimidated by words
asks what it means, I will try to explain it. This
is very difficult, and I feel like I’m digging
my own grave, for it is rather amorphous. But, having
used it, I am responsible for it, am I not? Please
bear with me, as it is more something one feels than
knows by intellect, and I must fumble for words to
explain this word.
It is a word of many meanings, and often,
we can get the meaning only from the context in which
it is used. It means—to Hindus—duty or
responsibility, according to one’s caste, high
or low. It can mean teaching or doctrine, as in Buddha-Dharma
or Hindu-Dharma. It can mean phenomena, as in things
momentarily arising and passing away, like the images
on a movie screen. It also stands for Truth or Reality,
as in things that apply to everyone and everything,
at any and every time, everywhere. It is in the latter
sense that I usually use the word Dharma. If we talk
about the Buddha’s teachings, we should be specific
and say Buddha-Dharma, because there is a difference.
Dharma is what the Buddha discovered as He sat under
the tree that has, since then, been known as the Bodhi
Tree, or Tree of Awakening. It was not called that
before His Enlightenment, so it is a mistake to talk
of Sakyamuni (or Siddhartha) going to sit under the
Bodhi tree.
After His Enlightenment, the Buddha started
to explain about what He had discovered, and His teachings
are known as Buddha-Dharma.
There is a sutta (sutra, in Pali) called
the Dhammaniyama Sutta, or The Discourse on the Fixed
Law of Dharma. It concerns what is known as The Three
Characteristics, and is as follows:
“Thus have I heard: At one time the
Exalted One was staying at Savatthi in Prince Jeta’s
Grove, in the Park of Anathapindika. Then the Exalted
One spoke thus to the monks: “O monks”.
Those monks replied to the Exalted One: “Lord”.
The Exalted One then said: “Monks, whether there
is the appearance of Tathagatas or there is not the
appearance of Tathagatas, there is this established
condition of Dhamma, this fixed law of Dhamma: All
that is conditioned is Impermanent. That a Tathagata
has fully awakened to, He fully understands. So, awakened
and understanding, He announces it, points it out,
declares, establishes, expounds, explains and clarifies
that ‘All that is conditioned is Impermanent’.
“Monks, whether there is the appearance
of Tathagatas or there is not the appearance of Tathagatas,
there is this established condition of Dhamma, this
fixed Law of Dhamma: ‘All that is conditioned
is Dukkha’. That a Tathagata has fully awakened
to, He fully understands. So, awakened and understanding,
He announces it, points it out, declares, establishes,
expounds, explains and clarifies that ‘All that
is conditioned is Dukkha’.
“Monks, whether there is the appearance
of Tathagatas or there is not the appearance of Tathagatas,
there is this established condition of Dhamma, this
fixed Law of Dhamma: ‘All dhammas are not-self’.
That a Tathagata has fully awakened to, He fully understands.
So, awakened and understanding, He announces it, points
it out, declares, establishes, expounds, explains
and clarifies that ‘All dhammas are not-self’”.
Thus spoke the Exalted One. Delighted, those
monks rejoiced in what the Exalted One had said.
Before commenting on this passage, let me
explain some of the unusual terms in it. Exalted One
is an honorific used for the Buddha by others (another
is Blessed One). Tathagata was a term He used to refer
to Himself; it means: One Who Has Thus Gone. Anathapindika
was a wealthy supporter of the Buddha. Dukkha means
Suffering, Woe, or Unsatisfactoriness. Dhamma is the
Pali form of the Sanskrit word Dharma; they have the
same meaning. dhammas refer to phenomena—events
or appearances. not-self means nothing has self-existence,
nothing exists in and by itself, but only in dependence
on other things; in other words, nothing is what it
seems to be.
This Sutta makes it very clear that Dharma
(or Dhamma), in its highest or Universal meaning,
does not depend upon the Buddha—”Whether
there is the appearance of Tathagatas or there is
not the appearance of Tathagatas”. The Buddha
has put Himself aside here and given Dharma center
place. It is very important for us to understand this;
Buddhism is not a personality cult.
Nothing comes from nothing, and nothing goes
to nothing. We can add nothing to nor take anything
away from the universe; things come into being as
a result of certain causes, and likewise pass out
of being. Like Lego bricks, from which so many different
toys can be made, things are merely shuffled around,
and new things formed from old. Recycling is not a
new concept, but the way the universe functions.
Everything, animate and inanimate, is ruled
by The Law of Cause-and-Effect; nothing is outside
its sway. Because of it, everything changes; nothing
remains the same (Impermanence); because of this,
everything is Unsatisfactory (Dukkha); and nothing
exists in and by itself (Not-self). What is outside
the Three Characteristics? Is there anything else?
No, not outside, but behind. Though they are negative
propositions, they have positive aspects. It is not
as gloomy as it seems to be. How can there be negative
without positive? One implies the other.
What, then, is the positive aspect behind
Change (Impermanence)? That which does not change;
we call it the Absolute, but because we are prone
to taking words for what they indicate and get stuck
on the verbal level, we do not—cannot —talk
much about it. It—like the positive aspects
of the other two Characteristics—has to be experienced
to be understood, just like the Taj Mahal, only moreso.
We must experience the Absolute beyond Change, must
experience the Bliss behind Dukkha, must experience
who and what is behind everything that is not.
The experience—personal and direct—of
these things reveals that everything is Dharma. And
I have a feeling that eventually, when we look back
from a higher vantage point and see things in clearer
perspective, we might realize that everything is good,
as everything has a part to play. (It reminds me of
the words from an old song: “Even the bad times
are good”). Everything, without exception, manifests
or reflects Dharma—maybe we can even say, is
Dharma. Dharma is impartial, and is not in the good
without being in the bad; even things we call ‘bad’
are Dharma, for they are also effects of causes; everything
is.
Unlike Buddhism and Buddha-Dharma, which
had beginnings in time, Dharma does not come and go,
begin or end; it is not subject to birth and death.
Everything else—parents, children, friends,
money, possessions, health, strength, power, position,
even our body—will let us down, as they are
subject to change, and therefore cannot be a true
refuge; only that which is not subject to change can
be a refuge.
Towards the end of His life, the Buddha’s
aunt-and-foster-mother, Mahaprajapati, and Yasodhara
(formerly His wife), who were both nuns and had attained
enlightenment, came to see Him, knowing they were
about to die. Mahaprajapati—who was, of course,
a very old lady—came first, and thanked him
for having given her the happiness of the Dharma,
for her having been spiritually born through Him;
for the Dharma having grown in her through Him; for
her having drunk the Dharma milk from him; for her
having plunged in and crossed over the Ocean of Becoming
through Him—what a glorious thing it has been
to be known as the mother of the Buddha, she said.
She went on: “I desire to die finally
having put away this corpse. O Sorrow-ender, permit
me”. The Buddha cheered her with Dharma and
didn’t try to dissuade this grand old lady with
false comfort, saying empty things like: “Oh,
don’t talk like that. You are not going to die,
but will live for many more years yet”. At that
stage, fear of living and dying no longer exists.
Yasodhara later came for the same purpose:
to take her leave of the Buddha. Addressing Him respectfully,
she said she was seventy eight years old. The Buddha
replied, “Yes, I know, and I’m eighty”.
She told Him she would die that night. But
her tone was more self-reliant than that of Mahaprajapati.
She didn’t ask His permission to die nor did
she go to Him as her refuge. Instead, she said: “me
saranam atthano” (“I am my own refuge”).
She came to thank Him because it was He who
had shown her the way and given her the power. She
had found what was in her mind, and which could be
found only there.
From this it can be seen that there is no
reason at all to regard the doctrine of the Buddha
as pessimistic or gloomy merely because it rejects
the idea of a personal, unchanging, immortal soul;
it simply states how things are, with the aim of liberating
us from things that prevent us seeing what we really
are, which is far more than we think.
To return to and end with the question that
started all this: What is Dharma?
Dharma is Law, Universal Law—Cause-and-Effect.
This being so, perhaps the question can best be answered
by asking: What is not Dharma?
“Herein,
Monks, the yeoman farmer gets his field well ploughed
..... puts in his seed ..... lets the water in and
turns it off quickly. These are his three urgent duties.
Now, monks, that yeoman-farmer has no such magic power
or authority as to say: ‘Let my crops spring
up today. Tomorrow let them ear. On the following
day let them ripen’. No. It is just the due
season which makes them do this.
“Now,
the monk has no such magic power or authority as to
say: ‘Today, let my mind be released from the
asavas (impurities) without grasping, or tomorrow,
or the day after”.
The Buddha: Gradual Sayings
1.219.
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