Like Ānanda, Anuruddha was a noble of the Sakyan clan and a cousin of the Buddha. He and Ānanda were begotten by the same father, the Sakyan prince Amitodana, though their mothers must have been different as the texts do not refer to the two as brothers and imply that they grew up in different households. Anuruddha’s full brother was Mahānāma the Sakyan, and he also had a sister named Rohiṇī. As a youth from an aristocratic clan Anuruddha was raised in luxury. The texts describe his early years in the same terms they use to describe the Bodhisatta’s upbringing: “Anuruddha the Sakyan was delicately nurtured. He had three palaces, one for the cold season, one for the hot season, and one for the rainy season.
Being waited on in his palace for the four months of the rains by female musicians, he did not come down from that palace” (Vin II 180). A charming story recorded in the Dhammapada Commentary reveals to us the blissful oblivion and innocence in which Anuruddha grew up.1 It is said that in his youth he lived in such luxury that he had never even heard the phrase “there isn’t any” (natthi)—for whatever he might want, his desire would immediately be fulfiled. One day Anuruddha was playing at marbles with five other Sakyan youths, and he had bet cakes on the result. The first three times he lost and sent home to his mother for cakes, and three times his mother promptly supplied them. When he lost the fourth time, however, and again sent for cakes, his mother replied, “There isn’t any cake to send” (natthi pūvaṃ).
Since Anuruddha had never before heard the expression “there isn’t any,” he assumed this natthi pūvaṃ must be a kind of cake, so he sent a man to his mother with the message, “Send me some there-isn’t-any cakes.” To teach him a lesson his mother sent him an empty platter, but even then fortune was still on his side. Owing to his past merits from an earlier life, the gods were determined that Anuruddha should not be disappointed, and thus they filled the empty platter with delicious celestial cakes. When Anuruddha tasted them he was so delighted that he repeatedly sent back to his mother for more platters of there-isn’tany cakes, and by the time each platter arrived it had been filled with the heavenly delicacies. Thus Anuruddha passed his early years in the joyful pursuit of fleeting pleasures, giving little thought to the meaning and purpose of existence.
The turning point in his life came shortly after his illustrious cousin, the Buddha, visited Kapilavatthu. By his example and his teaching the Buddha had inspired many of his relatives to go forth into the homeless life as monks. One day Anuruddha’s brother Mahānāma reflected on the fact that while many distinguished Sakyans had gone forth, no one from their own family had done so. He then approached Anuruddha and told him what he had been thinking, concluding with an ultimatum: “Well now, either you go forth or I will go forth.” For Anuruddha such a command must have come as a shock and he demurred: “But I have been delicately nurtured; I am not able to go forth from home into homelessness. You go forth.”
Mahānāma then vividly described to him the burdens of a householder’s life that he would have to shoulder: “First the fields have to be ploughed, then they must be sown, then water must be led into them, then the water must be led away, then the weeds must be dug up, then the crop must be reaped, then it must be harvested, then it must be made into stocks, then you must have them threshed, then you must have the straw winnowed, then you must have the chaff winnowed, then you must have the chaff sifted, then you must have it brought in. And the same must be done the next year and the year after that.”
Anuruddha inquired: “When will the work stop? When will an end to the work be discerned? When will we be able to amuse ourselves unconcerned, supplied and furnished with the five cords of sensual pleasure?” His brother replied sharply: “There is no stop to the work, my dear Anuruddha. No end to the work is ever to be discerned. Even when our fathers and grandfathers passed away the work was not to be stopped.” By the time he finished speaking Anuruddha had already made up his mind: “You look after what belongs to the household life, brother. I will go forth from home into homelessness.” The thought of the endless cycle of strife and toil, and the even more vicious cycle of rebirth, had awakened in him a sense of urgency.
He saw himself bound to struggle again and again through every moment of his life, then to die and take birth elsewhere, over and over in an endless round. When he saw this, his present life appeared to him insipid and meaningless, and the one hopeful alternative, which now seemed increasingly attractive, was to follow his cousin into homelessness and struggle to break through the cycle of repeated becoming. Immediately he went to his mother and asked her for permission to become a monk. She, however, refused, unwilling to be separated from even one of her sons. But when Anuruddha insisted, she told him that if his friend, Prince Bhaddiya, the Sakyan chieftain, would be willing to enter the Order, then she would give him her permission. She must have been convinced that Bhaddiya would never give up the privileges of rulership and that Anuruddha would then choose to remain in the household life with his friend.
Anuruddha next went to Bhaddiya and told him: “My ordination depends on yours. Let us go forth together into homelessness.” Bhaddiya replied: “Whether it depends on me or not, there should be ordination. I with you…” Here he stopped in the middle of the sentence. He had wanted to say, “I shall come with you,” but broke off because of feelings of regret. Overcome by attachment to worldly power and pleasure, he could only say: “Go and be ordained, according to your wish.” But Anuruddha pleaded with him again and again: “Come, friend, let both of us go forth.” When Bhaddiya saw how earnest his friend was, he softened and said: “Wait, friend, for seven years. After seven years we will both go forth from home into homelessness.”
But Anuruddha replied: “Seven years is too long, friend. I cannot wait for seven years.” By his repeated entreaties Anuruddha forced Bhaddiya step by step to reduce the delay to seven days, the time he would need to settle his worldly affairs and install his successor. He was true to his word, and so Anuruddha was free to go with him. Anuruddha’s example induced other Sakyan princes, too, to follow their great kinsman, the Buddha, and join his fraternity of monks. Thus, when the appointed day arrived, six Sakyan princes together with Upāli, the court barber, and an armed escort, set out from their homes. They were the Sakyans Bhaddiya, Anuruddha, Ānanda, Bhagu (Th 271–74), Kimbila (Th 118, 155–56), and Devadatta. To avoid arousing suspicion over the purpose of their departure, they left as if they were going to the pleasure gardens for an outing.
Having gone a long distance, they then sent the escort back and entered the neighbouring principality. There they took off their ornaments, tied them into a bundle, and gave them to Upāli, saying, “This will be enough for your livelihood. Now return home.” But the barber Upāli, while already on his way back, stopped and thought: “The Sakyans are a fierce people. They will think that I have murdered the youths, and they might kill me.” He hung the bundle on a tree and hurried back to join the princes. He told them of his fears and said, “If you, O princes, are going forth into the homeless life, why shouldn’t I do the same?” The young Sakyans, too, thought Upāli was right in not going back and allowed him to join them on their way to see the Blessed One.
Having come into the Master’s presence, they asked him for ordination, adding: “We Sakyans are a proud people, Lord. This Upāli the barber has attended on us for a long time. Please, Lord, give him ordination first. Since he will then be our senior, we shall have to salute him and do the duties proper to his seniority. Thus our Sakyan pride will be humbled.” The Buddha did as requested, and thus these seven received ordination with Upāli as the first (Vin II 182–83). Within one year most of them had achieved some spiritual attainment. Bhaddiya was the first to attain arahantship, as one endowed with the three true knowledges.3 Anuruddha acquired the divine eye, Ānanda the fruit of stream-entry, and Devadatta ordinary (i.e., mundane) supernormal powers. Bhagu, Kimbila, and Upāli became arahants later, as did Ānanda and Anuruddha. But Devadatta’s reckless ambition and misdeeds led him to hell.
THE STRUGGLE FOR ARAHANTSHIP
The divine eye is the ability to see beyond the range of the physical eye, extending in Anuruddha’s case to a thousandfold world system. This faculty, which we will discuss more fully below, is of a mundane (lokiya) character, one whose acquisition does not necessarily entail that its possessor has gained realization of the Dhamma. Anuruddha attained the divine eye before he became an arahant, and to reach the heights he still had to overcome many inner obstacles. Three reports in the canon tell of his struggles. Once, when the Venerable Anuruddha was living in the Eastern Bamboo Park with two friends, his cousin Nandiya and the Sakyan noble Kimbila, the Buddha visited them and inquired about their progress. Anuruddha then told him about a difficulty he had experienced in a very sublime meditation he had been practicing. He had perceived an inner light and radiance and had a vision of sublime forms. But that light and vision of forms disappeared very soon, and he could not understand the reason.
The Buddha declared that when he was still striving for enlightenment he too had met the same difficulty but had discovered how to master it. He explained that to experience these subtle states in full and obtain a steady perception of them one should free oneself from eleven imperfections (upakkilesa). The first is uncertainty about the reality of these phenomena and the significance of the inner light, which might easily be taken for a sensory illusion. The second is inattention: one no longer directs one’s full attention to the inner light but disregards it, evaluating it as unremarkable or inessential. The third imperfection is lethargy and drowsiness; the fourth, anxiety and fright, which occurs when threatening images or thoughts arise from the subconscious. When these imperfections have been mastered, elation may arise, which excites body and mind. Such exultation is often a habitual reaction to any kind of success. When that elation has exhausted itself, one may feel emotionally drained and fall into inertia, a heavy passivity of mind. To overcome it, one makes a very strong effort, which may result in an excess of energy.
On becoming aware of this excess, one relaxes and falls again into sluggish energy. In such a condition, when mindfulness is weak, strong longing may arise for desirable objects of the celestial or the human world, according to the focusing of the inner light which had been widened in its range. This longing will reach out to a great variety of objects and thus lead to another imperfection, a large diversity of perceptions, be it on the celestial or human plane. Having become dissatisfied with this great diversity of forms, one chooses to contemplate one of them, be it of a desirable or undesirable nature. Concentrating intensely on the chosen object will lead to the eleventh imperfection, the excessive meditating on these forms. Addressing Anuruddha and his two companions the Buddha thus described vividly, from his own experience, the eleven imperfections that may arise in the meditative perception of pure forms, and he explained how to overcome them (MN 128).
When Anuruddha had perfected himself more and more in the jhānas and in those refined meditative perceptions, he one day went to see the Venerable Sāriputta and said: “Friend Sāriputta, with the divine eye that is purified, transcending human sight, I can see the thousandfold world system. Firm is my energy, unremitting; my mindfulness is alert and unconfused; the body is tranquil and unperturbed; my mind is concentrated and one-pointed. And yet my mind is not freed from the cankers, not freed from clinging.” Thereupon Sāriputta replied: “Friend Anuruddha, that you think thus of your divine eye: this is conceit in you. That you think thus of your firm energy, your alert mindfulness, your unperturbed body, and your concentrated mind: this is restlessness in you. That you think of your mind not being freed from the cankers: this is worrying in you. It would be good, indeed, if you would abandon these three states of mind and, paying no attention to them, direct your mind to the deathless element, Nibbāna.”
Having heard Sāriputta’s advice, Anuruddha again resorted to solitude and earnestly applied himself to the removal of those three obstructions within his mind (AN 3:128). Sometime later Anuruddha was living in the country of the Cetiya people, in the Eastern Bamboo Grove. There, in his contemplations, it occurred to him that there were seven thoughts that should be cherished by a truly great man (mahāpurisavitakka): This Dhamma is for one with few wishes, not for one with many wishes; this Dhamma is for one who is content, not for one who is discontent; this Dhamma is for one bent on seclusion, not for one who is gregarious; this Dhamma is for one who is energetic, not for one who is lazy; this Dhamma is for one who is mindful, not for one who is confused; this Dhamma is for one who is concentrated, not for one who is unconcentrated; this Dhamma is for one who is wise, not for one who is dull-witted.
When the Buddha perceived in his own mind the thoughts that had arisen in Anuruddha’s mind, he appeared before him in a mind-made body (manomaya-kāya) and applauded him: “Good, Anuruddha, good! You have well considered seven thoughts of a great man. You may now also consider this eighth thought of a great man: ‘This Dhamma is for one who inclines to the non-diffuse, who delights in the non-diffuse; not for one who inclines to worldly diffuseness and delights in it.’”
The Buddha then said that when Anuruddha contemplates these eight thoughts, he will be able to attain at will the four meditative absorptions. He would then no longer be affected by worldly conditions but would regard the four simple requisites of a monk’s life—robes, alms-food, shelter, and medicines—in the same way as a layperson would enjoy luxuries. Such simple living would make his mind joyous and unperturbed and thus be helpful to his attainment of Nibbāna. In parting, the Buddha advised Anuruddha to stay on at the Eastern Bamboo Grove. Anuruddha did so, and during that same rainy season he attained the consummation of his striving: arahantship, the undefiled liberation of the mind (AN 8:30).
At the hour of his attainment the Venerable Anuruddha uttered the following verses, in which he expresses his gratitude to the Master for helping him bring his spiritual work to completion: Having understood my mind’s intention, The unsurpassed Teacher in the world Came to me by psychic power In the vehicle of a mind-made body.
When the intention arose in me, Then he gave me a further teaching. The Buddha who delights in the non-diffuse Gave me instructions on the non-diffuse.
Having understood his Dhamma, I dwelt delighting in his Teaching. The three knowledges have been attained, The Buddha’s Teaching has been done. (AN 8:30; Th 901–3)
ANURUDDHA’S SPIRITUAL PATH
The Venerable Anuruddha’s spiritual path is marked by two prominent features: first, his mastery of the divine eye and other supernormal faculties; and second, his cultivation of the four foundations of mindfulness (satipaṭṭhāna). We will discuss each of these in turn. The divine eye (dibbacakkhu) is so called because it is similar to the vision of the devas, which is capable of seeing objects at remote distances, behind barriers, and in different dimensions of existence. The divine eye is developed by meditative power. It is not a distinct sense organ but a type of knowledge, yet a knowledge that exercises an ocular function. This faculty is aroused on the basis of the fourth jhāna, and specifically through one of the meditative supports called the light kasiṇa or the fire kasiṇa, a visualized circle of light or fire.
After mastering the four jhānas through either of these kasiṇas, the meditator descends to a lower level of concentration called “access concentration” (upacāra-samādhi) and extends light to the immediately surrounding area, thereby bringing into view forms that are ordinarily imperceptible. As the meditator becomes progressively more adept in this ability to radiate light, he can then suffuse increasingly larger areas with light and project the radiance outwardly to distant world systems and to planes of existence above and below the human plane. This will reveal many dimensions of being that are inaccessible to the ordinary fleshly eye.
The characteristic function of the divine eye, according to the texts, is the knowledge of the passing away and rebirth of beings (cutūpapāta-ñāṇa). This knowledge was achieved by the Buddha on the night of his own Enlightenment and was always included by him in the complete step-by-step gradual training, where it appears as the second of the three true knowledges (tevijjā; see, for example, MN 27) and the fourth of the six superknowledges (cha¿abhiññā, see MN 6). By means of this faculty the meditator is able to see beings as they pass away from one form of existence and take rebirth elsewhere. But it is not only the actual passage from life to life that the divine eye reveals. With the appropriate determination it can also be used to discover the particular kamma that brought about rebirth into the new form of existence.
In this application it is called the knowledge of faring on in accordance with one’s kamma (kammūpaga-ñāṇa). At its maximum efficiency the divine eye can illuminate the entire panorama of sentient existence—spread out over thousands of world systems and extending from the highest heavens to the lowest hells—revealing too the kammic laws that govern the process of rebirth. While only a supreme Buddha will have absolute mastery over this knowledge, disciples who have perfected the divine eye can perceive regions of the sentient universe that elude our most powerful telescopes. The Venerable Anuruddha was designated by the Buddha as the foremost bhikkhu disciple endowed with the divine eye (etadaggaṃ dibbacakkhukānaṃ; AN 1; chap. 14).
Once, when a number of eminent monks living together in the Gosiṅga sāla-tree forest exchanged views on the kind of monk that could beautify that forest, Anuruddha characteristically replied that it was one who, with the divine eye, could survey a thousand world systems, just as a man standing on a high tower could see a thousand farmsteads (MN 32). Anuruddha also helped his own pupils to acquire the divine eye (SN 14:15) and in his verses celebrates his skill in this faculty:
Absorbed in five-factored concentration, Peaceful, with a unified mind, I had gained tranquillity And my divine eye was purified.
Standing on the five-factored jhāna I know the passing and rebirth of beings; I know their coming and their going, Their life in this world and beyond.
The other major facet of Anuruddha’s spiritual path was the arduous practice of satipaṭṭhāna, the four foundations of mindfulness: “Here a bhikkhu dwells contemplating the body in the body … feelings in feelings … mind in mind … mental phenomena in mental phenomena, ardent, clearly comprehending and mindful, having removed covetousness and grief in regard to the world.”8 The practice of satipaṭṭhāna is sometimes taken to be a quick, “dry” path to enlightenment which bypasses the jhānas and superknowledges, but from Anuruddha’s words it is clear that for him, as well as for those trained under him, this method of meditation could be used as a vehicle for the acquisition of psychic powers and superknowledges along with the final fruit of liberation.
Whenever the Venerable Anuruddha was asked how he had gained proficiency in the “great superknowledges” (mahābhiññatā), which include the five mundane superknowledges and arahantship as the sixth, he always replied that it was through the development and cultivation of the four foundations of mindfulness (SN 47:28, 52:3, 6, 11). It was through this practice, he says, that he could recollect a thousand past aeons, exercise the supernormal powers, and directly perceive a thousandfold world system (SN 52:11, 12, 6). Anuruddha also said that satipaṭṭhāna enabled him to gain that perfect control of emotive reactions called the “power of the noble ones” (ariya-iddhi), by which one can regard the repulsive as nonrepulsive, the nonrepulsive as repulsive, and view both with equanimity (SN 52:1).
He further stresses the importance of this practice by saying that whoever neglects the four foundations of mindfulness has neglected the noble path leading to the extinction of suffering while whoever undertakes it has undertaken the noble path leading to the extinction of suffering (SN 52:2); he also declares that this fourfold mindfulness leads to the destruction of craving (SN 52:7). just as the river Ganges would not deviate from its course to the ocean, in the same way a monk who practices the four foundations of mindfulness could not be deflected from the life of renunciation and made to return to the worldly life (SN 52:8). Once, when Anuruddha was ill, he surprised the monks by his equanimity in bearing pain. They asked him how he was able to bear up as he did, and he replied that his composure was due to his practice of the fourfold mindfulness (SN 52:10).
Another time Sāriputta came to see Anuruddha in the evening and asked him what he now regularly practiced so that his face always radiated happiness and serenity. Anuruddha again said that he spent the time in the regular practice of the four foundations of mindfulness, and that this was the way in which arahants live and practice. Sāriputta thereupon expressed his joy at Anuruddha’s words (SN 52:9). Once, when questioned by Sāriputta and Mahāmoggallāna about the difference between those who are still “in training” (sekha) 10 and an arahant who is “beyond training” (asekha), he said that they differ in the practice of the fourfold mindfulness: while the former accomplishes it only partly, the latter does so completely and perfectly (SN 52:4–5).
Anuruddha also claimed to possess, through his practice of right mindfulness, ten lofty qualities elsewhere called “the ten powers of a Tathāgata” (dasatathāgatabala; see MN 12). These are: the knowledge of what is possible and impossible; the knowledge of the result of the acquisition of kamma by way of stage and cause; the knowledge of the paths leading to the different destinations of rebirth; the knowledge of the world with its many diverse elements; the knowledge of the different dispositions of beings; the knowledge of the degree of maturity in the faculties of other beings; the knowledge of the jhānas and other advanced meditative states; and finally the three true knowledges (SN 52:15–24). The commentary says that Anuruddha possessed these knowledges only in part, as in their completeness they are unique to a Fully Enlightened One.
LIFE IN THE SANGHA
From the Pāli Canon it appears that Anuruddha, in contrast to such monks as Sāriputta, Mahāmoggallāna, and Ānanda, preferred a life of quiet seclusion to one of active involvement in the affairs of the Sangha. Thus he does not appear as frequently as the above-named elders in the events connected with the Buddha’s ministry. His verses in the Theragāthā also suggest that he was strongly inclined to the ascetic practices, like the Venerable Mahākassapa, who was their most distinguished exponent:
When he has returned from his alms round The sage dwells alone without companion; Anuruddha who is free of the cankers Seeks discarded rags to make a robe.
Anuruddha, the sage, the thinker, One who is free from the cankers, Sifted, took, washed, and dyed, And then wore a robe of rags.
When one is greedy and discontent, Fond of company, easily excited, Then there arise in one’s mind Qualities that are evil and defiled. But when one is mindful, with few wishes, Content and free from disturbance, Fond of seclusion and joyful, With energy constantly aroused, Then there occur in one’s mind Wholesome qualities leading to awakening. Thus one is freed from the cankers This has been said by the Great Sage. For fifty-five years I have been one Who observes the sitter’s practice. It has been twenty-five years Since torpor has been uprooted. (Th 869–900, 904) In these verses Anuruddha refers to three of the ascetic practices— the going on alms round, the use of robes made from discarded rags, and the sitter’s practice. The last is the vow not to lie down but to sleep while sitting in the meditation posture. In his last verse Anuruddha implies that for twenty-five years he had not slept at all. Perhaps through the power of meditative absorption he was able to refresh his mind so fully that sleep had become unnecessary. But the commentary indicates that in the later part of his life Anuruddha allowed himself a short period of sleep to dispel physical fatigue.
Although the Venerable Anuruddha preferred solitude to company, he was not a complete recluse. In one sutta the Buddha states that Anuruddha had a number of pupils whom he trained in the development of the divine eye (SN 14:15), while the commentaries speak of him as travelling about with an entourage of five hundred pupils—probably an inflated figure. He also engaged in discussions on the Dhamma with other monks and with knowledgeable lay followers, and fortunately for us several of these have been preserved in the Pāli Canon. Once, for example, the court carpenter of Sāvatthī, Pañcakaṅga, invited Anuruddha and some other monks for a meal.
From other texts we know that Pañcakaṅga was a person well versed in the Dhamma and devoted to its practice. So, after the meal, he asked a rather subtle question of Anuruddha. He said that some monks had advised him to practice the “measureless liberation of mind,” and others recommended the “exalted liberation of mind,” and he wanted to know whether these two are different or the same. Anuruddha replied that these two meditations are different. The measureless liberation of mind (appamāṇā cetovimutti) is the cultivation of the four divine abodes (brahmavihāra)-boundless loving-kindness, compassion, altruistic joy, and equanimity. But the exalted liberation of mind (mahaggatā cetovimutti) proceeds by widening the inner perception from a limited extent to a vast, oceanlike extent; it is obtained by expanding the reflex image (paṭibhāga-nimitta) of the kasiṇa, which arises by concentration on a limited surface of earth, water, coloured disks, etc.
Anuruddha went on to speak of a class of deities called the radiant gods.11 He said that although they all belong to the same order, there are differences among them in their radiance, which may be limited or measureless, pure or tainted, in accordance with the different quality of the meditation that had caused their rebirth in that world. On being questioned by a monk, Anuruddha confirmed that he spoke about these deities from his own experience, as he had previously lived in their midst and conversed with them (MN 127). On another occasion the Buddha was sitting in the open, surrounded by many monks, to whom he was giving a discourse. He then turned to Anuruddha and asked whether they were all contented in leading the ascetic life.
When Anuruddha confirmed this, the Buddha praised such contentment and said: Those who have left the home life while still young, becoming monks in the prime of their life, did not do so fearing punishment by kings, nor being motivated by loss of property, by debts, worries or poverty. Rather, they took to the ascetic life out of their faith in the Dhamma and inspired by the goal of liberation. What should such a one do? If he has not yet gained the peace and happiness of the meditative absorptions or something higher, then he should strive to get rid of the five mental hindrances and other defilements of the mind so that he may achieve the bliss of meditation or a peace that is still higher. In concluding his discourse, the Buddha said that when he declares the attainment and future destiny of disciples who have died, he does so to inspire others to emulate their example. These words of the Blessed One gave Anuruddha much contentment and joy (MN 68).
Once one of the Brahmā gods conceived the idea that no ascetic would be able to penetrate to the heights of the Brahma-world. When the Buddha perceived in his mind the thoughts of that deity, he appeared before him in a blaze of light. Just then four of his great disciples—the Venerables Mahāmoggallāna, Mahākassapa, Mahākappina, and Anuruddha—considered where the Blessed One might be dwelling, and with their divine eyes they saw him seated in the Brahma-world. Then, by their supernormal power, they too transported themselves to that heavenly world and sat down at a respectful distance from the Buddha. Seeing this, the deity was cured of his pride and acknowledged the superior power of the Buddha and his disciples (SN 6:5).
Another time the Venerable Anuruddha had woken up in the middle of the night and recited verses of the Dhamma until dawn arrived. A female spirit with her small son was listening devoutly to the recitation, and she told her son to keep quiet: “It may be, if we understand the holy words and live accordingly, this will lead to our welfare and may free us from rebirth in the lower spirit worlds” (SN 10:6). When the quarrel erupted between two groups of monks at Kosambi, the Venerable Ānanda went to see the Buddha, who asked him whether the quarrel had been settled. Ānanda had to tell him that the quarrel still continued: a pupil of Anuruddha’s insisted on creating disharmony in the Sangha, and Anuruddha did not reproach him. This happened at a time when Anuruddha, together with Nandiya and Kimbila, had gone to the Gosiṅga forest to devote themselves to a strictly meditative life, and Ānanda was insinuating that it was wrong of Anuruddha to dwell in seclusion when his own pupil was instigating trouble.
The Buddha, however, came to Anuruddha’s defence. He said that there was no need for Anuruddha to concern himself with such matters, as there were others like Sāriputta and Moggallāna, and Ānanda himself, who were quite capable of resolving disputes. Besides, he added, there are incorrigible monks who are quite pleased when others quarrel as this would divert attention from their own bad conduct and thus they could avoid being sent away (AN 4:241). An example of this is the pair of conceited monks who tried to compete with each other in regard to their learning. One was a pupil under Ānanda, who carefully concerned himself with all the affairs of the Sangha; the other was a pupil under Anuruddha, who, as we saw above, had a more detached attitude. Those two vainglorious monks just acted according to their character though they had different teachers to guide them (SN 16:6).
The best known account of Anuruddha’s friendships is that found in the Cūlagosiṅga Sutta (MN 31). One time, while Anuruddha was dwelling in the Gosiṅga forest together with his friends Nandiya and Kimbila, the Buddha came to visit him. After they had paid respects to the Master, the Buddha asked Anuruddha whether he and his companions were living in harmony. Anuruddha replied: “Surely, Lord, we are living in concord, with mutual appreciation, without disputing, blending like milk and water, viewing each other with kindly eyes.”
Then the Buddha asked how they managed to maintain such total harmony. Anuruddha’s reply is a perfect lesson in the most vexatious art of interpersonal relations: “I do so by thinking, ‘How blessed and fortunate I am to be living with such companions in the holy life!’ I maintain towards my companions loving-kindness in bodily action, speech, and thought, and I consider, ‘Let me set aside what I wish to do and do what these venerable ones wish to do.’ In this way, though we are different in body, we are one in mind.” The Buddha, after expressing his approval, next inquired from them whether they had attained “any superhuman states, any distinction in knowledge and vision worthy of the noble ones.” Anuruddha answered that they had all attained the four jhānas, the four formless attainments, and the cessation of perception and feeling, and moreover they had all reached arahantship, the destruction of the cankers.
After the Buddha left, the other two monks inquired from Anuruddha how he could speak so confidently about their own meditative attainments when they had never informed him about them. Anuruddha answered that while they had never reported to him that they had attained those states, “by encompassing your minds with my own mind, I know that you have obtained those abidings and attainments, and deities have also reported this to me.” Meanwhile a spirit named Dīgha Parajana came to the Buddha and spoke in praise of the three monks, Anuruddha, Nandiya, and Kimbila. The Buddha responded by first applauding the spirit’s utterance and then adding a glowing eulogy of his own: So it is, Dīgha, so it is! If the clan from which those three young men went forth from the home life into homelessness should remember them with confident heart, that would lead to the welfare and happiness of that clan for a long time. If the village…the town…the city…the country from which they went forth should remember them with confident heart, that would lead to the welfare and happiness of that country for a long time.
If all nobles … all brahmins … all merchants … all menials remember them. If all the world with its devas, its Māras, and its Brahmās, this generation with its recluses and brahmins, its princes and its people, should remember these three young men with confident heart, that would lead to the welfare and happiness of the whole world for a long time. See, Dīgha, how those three young men are practicing for the welfare and happiness of the many, out of compassion for the world, for the good, welfare, and happiness of devas and humans.
ANURUDDHA AND WOMEN
An unusually large number of texts in which Anuruddha appears are concerned with women. It seems that despite his own inner purity of heart and complete detachment from sensuality, Anuruddha, endowed by birth with the physical bearing of a noble warrior, emanated a personal charisma that made him attractive to women, not only of the human world but of the celestial worlds as well. Some of these encounters also no doubt stemmed from kammic relationships formed in earlier lives, which still affected the female members even though Anuruddha himself had transcended them.
For example, on one occasion, when Anuruddha was dwelling alone in a forest resort, a female deity named Jālinī came from the realm of the Thirty-three gods and appeared before him (SN 9:6). In Anuruddha’s previous existence, when he was Sakka, the ruler of the heaven of the Thirty-three, she had been his wife and chief queen. Out of her old attachment to him, she longed to be reunited with him and wanted them to resume their relationship as heavenly king and queen. With this intention she urged him to aspire for rebirth into that world:
Direct your mind there to that realm Where you had lived in the past Among the devas of the Thirty-three Amply endowed with all sense pleasures.
You will shine forth highly honoured, Surrounded by celestial maidens. But Anuruddha replied: Miserable are celestial maidens,
Established in personality, And miserable too are those beings Who remain attached to celestial maidens.
Jālinī had no understanding of such words, and thus she tried to lure him by describing the splendor of the deva-world: They do not know happiness Who have not seen Nandana, The abode of the glorious devas Belonging to the host of Thirty.
Anuruddha, however, remained firm in his decision, which sprang from his deep insight into the impermanence of all conditioned things: Do you not know, you fool, That pithy maxim of the arahants? Impermanent are all formations, Subject to arising and vanishing, Having arisen, they then cease: Blissful is the appeasement of them.
Now I will never again dwell Among the deva host, O Jālinī! The wandering on in birth is ended: For me there is no more re-becoming.
On another occasion, many female deities called “the graceful ones” (manāpakāyikā devatā) appeared before Anuruddha and told him all the marvellous things they could do. They could instantly assume any color they wanted, produce any sound or voice at will, and obtain instantly any pleasure. To test them, Anuruddha mentally wished that they would become blue; and so, as they could read his thoughts, they became blue, with blue clothes and blue ornaments. When he wished them to change into other colors, they did so—yellow, red, and white, with matching clothes and ornaments.
Now these female deities thought that Anuruddha was pleased with their presence, and they started to sing and dance very beautifully. But Anuruddha turned his senses away from them. When the deities noticed that Anuruddha did not find pleasure in their performance, they instantly left (AN 8:46). If we remember how the Venerable Anuruddha had spent his youth as a prince, enchanted by the arts and music, we may understand better how this scene could materialize around him. If he had not trodden the Buddha’s path to liberation, he quite possibly might have taken rebirth among these deities, who were superior in rank to the Thirty-three gods. Anuruddha must have thought this experience worth telling, for when he saw the Buddha in the evening he recounted it to him.
He then raised the question: “What attributes should a woman have to be reborn in the realm of those graceful spirits?” His thirst for knowledge must have made him wish to know the moral level of these deities. The Buddha replied willingly and said that eight qualities were needed in order to be reborn in that realm: the wife has to be kindly and sympathetic toward her husband; she should be courteous and hospitable toward people her husband holds dear, such as his parents and certain ascetics and priests; she should do her housework carefully and with diligence; she was to care for and guide the servants and domestic workers in a purposeful manner; she should not squander her husband’s possessions, but should guard them well; as a lay follower she should take refuge in the Triple Gem; she should observe the Five Precepts; and last, she should find joy in sharing and in giving, showing concern for those in need (AN 8:46).
While on both these occasions female deities appeared before Anuruddha, at other times Anuruddha used his divine eye to understand how women are born in heaven or in hell. Once he asked the Buddha which qualities led a woman to rebirth in hell, and the Teacher replied that there were five major vices that were responsible for such a rebirth: lack of faith, lack of a sense of shame, moral recklessness, anger, and stupidity; further, such qualities as revengefulness, jealousy, avarice, immorality, sloth, and unmindfulness would also lead to rebirth in hell. Only those with the opposite qualities would be reborn in a heavenly world (SN 37:5–24). Another time Anuruddha reported to the Buddha that he had often seen how a woman after her death was reborn in a lower world, even in hell. The Buddha replied that there are three harmful qualities which will lead a woman to hell: if in the morning she is full of avarice, at noon full of envy, and in the evening full of sensual desire (AN 3:127).
Reports of Anuruddha’s past lives also refer to his relationships with women. There is only one instance that mentions his rebirth as an animal. Once, when he was reborn as a wood pigeon, his mate was seized by a hawk. Tormented by passion and grief, he decided to fast until he had overcome his love for her and the grief of separation: Once I was in love with a female pigeon, In this very spot we flew about in sport. Then a hawk pounced on her and fled; Against my will she was taken from me. Since we have been parted and separated I experience pain constantly in my heart. Hence I observe the vows of the holy day, That lust may never again cross my path. (J 490)
Other rebirth stories tell us the following: Once when Anuruddha was born as a king he saw a lovely fairy woman in the forest, fell in love with her, and shot at her husband in order to take possession of her. Full of the pain of sorrow, she cried out and denounced the king for his cruelty. Hearing her accusations, the king came to his senses and went his way. At that time when Anuruddha was the jealous king, Yasodharā was the fairy woman, and her husband was the Bodhisatta, who was now Anuruddha’s Master and whom in that past life he had almost killed out of lust for a woman (J 485). In a divine form of existence, as Sakka, king of the devas, he helped the Bodhisatta to regain his reputation when he was the famous musician Guttila.
As a test, three times he made appear on earth three hundred celestial maidens who danced when Guttila played on his lute. Then Sakka invited Guttila into his heavenly world at the request of the heavenly nymphs who wanted to hear his music. After he had played to them, he asked them to tell him which good deeds had brought them to this heavenly world. They told him that in the past they had given small gifts to monks, heard their discourses, shared what they had with others, and were without anger and pride. Hearing this, the Bodhisatta rejoiced in the benefit he had thus gained in his visit to Sakka’s heaven (J 243). In his last life Anuruddha helped his sister Rohiṇī to gain access to the Dhamma. Once, together with five hundred of his pupils, he visited his home city Kapilavatthu.
When his relatives heard that he had arrived they all went to the monastery to pay respects to him—all, that is, except Rohiṇī. The elder inquired why his sister was absent, and they informed him that she was suffering from a skin eruption and was too ashamed to show herself in public. The elder asked that she be sent to him immediately. Rohiṇī came, her face covered by a cloth, and the elder instructed her to sponsor the construction of an assembly hall. Rohiṇī sold her jewels to raise money for the project. Anuruddha supervised the arrangements and the young men of the Sakyan clan did the work, As soon as the construction of the hall was completed her skin eruption subsided. She then invited the Buddha and his monks to attend the opening ceremony for the assembly hall.
In his discourse the Buddha explained the kammic cause for her skin ailment. In a previous life, he said, when she was the chief consort of the king of Benares, she became jealous of one of the king’s dancing girls and, to torment her, had sprinkled dried scabs over her body and her bed. The skin ailment from which she had suffered was the fruit of that evil deed. At the end of the Buddha’s discourse, Rohiṇī was established in the fruit of stream-entry. After her death she was reborn among the gods of the Thirty-three and became the beloved consort of Sakka.13 In Anuruddha’s life as a monk, there was one incident which led to the promulgation of a disciplinary rule by the Buddha. Once Anuruddha was wandering through the kingdom of Kosala toward Sāvatthī. In the evening he reached a village but could not find any special accommodation reserved for wandering ascetics and monks. He went to the village inn and asked for a night’s lodging, which was granted.
Meanwhile more travelers began to arrive at the inn for the night, and the dormitory where Anuruddha was to stay became crowded. The inn hostess, seeing this, told Anuruddha that she could prepare his bedding in an inside room where he could spend the night peacefully. Silently Anuruddha agreed. The hostess, however, had made this suggestion only because she had fallen in love with him. She now perfumed herself, put on her jewellery, and approached Anuruddha, saying: “You, respected sir, are handsome, graceful, and good-looking, and so am I. It will be good if the respected sir will take me as his wife.” Anuruddha, however, remained silent. Then the inn hostess offered him all her riches. Anuruddha still remained silent. Then she took off her upper garment and danced in front of him, then she sat down, and then she lay down in front of him. But Anuruddha had his senses well under control and paid no attention to her.
Seeing that none of her allurements moved him, she exclaimed: “It is astonishing, dear sir, it is extraordinary! So many men have offered me hundreds and thousands to win my hand, but this ascetic whom I myself have asked does not desire me or my wealth.” The woman then put on her upper garment again, fell at Anuruddha’s feet, and asked him to forgive her for her audacity. Now for the first time he opened his mouth to pardon her, exhorting her to guard herself in the future. She then left. The next morning she brought him his breakfast as if nothing had happened. Anuruddha then proceeded to give her a talk on the Dhamma which so touched her that she became a devout lay follower of the Buddha. Anuruddha, however, continued his journey, and when he reached the monastery at Sāvatthī he told the monks about his adventure.
The Buddha called him and reproached him for having spent the night in a woman’s quarters. He then proclaimed a rule which prohibited this (Pācittiya 6). This story shows well how the Venerable Anuruddha’s selfrestraint had saved him from becoming a slave to sensual desire. His strength of character had made such a deep impression on that woman that she repented, listened to him, and took refuge in the Buddha. Thus Anuruddha’s self-control was not only for his own good but also brought benefit to the woman. But when the Buddha reprimanded him, he did so because weaker characters could well succumb to temptation in such situations. Hence, out of compassion for them, the Buddha prescribed the rule that a monk should not expose himself to such dangers. Frequently we can observe that the Buddha wanted to prevent weaker characters from overrating their strength and trying to emulate an ideal too high for them.
This story closely parallels a similar experience which befell St. Bernard of Clairvaux, who resembles Anuruddha in his strength of will. One day, as a young monk, Bernard came to an inn and asked for lodgings for the night. He was offered a bench in the public room, as there was no other place available. The innkeeper’s daughter had fallen in love with the handsome young Cistercian monk and went to him during the night. He, however, turned to the wall, drew his cape up, and said to her, “If you are looking for a place to sleep, there is room enough!” This total disinterest in her person sobered her and she slinked away ashamed. Like Anuruddha, he too had mastered the situation, not through arguments, but simply through the strength of his purity.
ANURUDDHA’S EARLIER LIVES
Like many other prominent disciples, the Venerable Anuruddha had formed his original aspiration for great discipleship one hundred thousand aeons in the past during the Dispensation of the Buddha Padumuttara.14 At that time he was a wealthy householder. When he saw the Buddha appoint a bhikkhu to the post of “foremost among those who have the divine eye,” he aspired to this station himself, made abundant offerings to the Blessed One and the Sangha, and then received from the Master the prediction of his future success. After that Buddha’s Parinibbāna he approached the bhikkhus and asked about the preliminary practice for gaining the divine eye. They told him that offerings of lamps would be particularly appropriate.
Thus the householder offered many thousands of lamps at the golden shrine constructed to hold the Buddha’s bodily relics. Again, in a subsequent life during the time of the Buddha Kassapa, after the Buddha’s Parinibbāna he placed bowls filled with cream of ghee all around the Buddha’s shrine and lit them; he himself circumambulated the shrine all night bearing a lighted bowl on his head. The Apadāna mentions a similar incident that took place during the time of a previous Buddha named Sumedha. Anuruddha had seen this Buddha meditating alone at the foot of a tree, set up lights all around him, and replenished them with fuel for seven days. As a kammic result he became the king of the devas for thirty aeons and a human king twenty-eight times, with a faculty of vision that could see for a yojana (about six miles) all around (Ap 3:4, vv. 421–33). The longest account of any of Anuruddha’s previous lives tells of the time between the arising of two Buddhas when he was reborn into a poor family in Benares.
His name was Annabhāra (Food Carrier), and he earned his living in the service of a wealthy merchant named Sumana. One day the paccekabuddha Upariṭṭha emerged from the attainment of cessation and entered the city on alms round. Annabhāra saw him, proposed to give him alms, and conducted him to his home, where he and his wife each gave him the portions of food they had prepared for themselves. The wealthy merchant Sumana, having learned of his employee’s noble deed, wanted to purchase his merits from him, but Annabhāra would not sell them even for a lavish amount of wealth. When Sumana pressured him, Annabhāra consulted with the paccekabuddha, who told him that the merit could be shared simply by inviting Sumana to rejoice in the offering. just as a flame is not diminished when other lamps are lit from it, so, he explained, merit increases and does not diminish when others are invited to rejoice in one’s meritorious deeds. Sumana appreciated this opportunity, gave Annabhāra a generous reward, and brought him to the king.
The king, too, on hearing the report, gave Annabhāra a bonus and had a site appointed to build a new home for him. On that site, wherever the workmen dug the ground in order to start building, they uncovered pots of treasure. These had materialized through the merit of Annabhāra’s offering to the paccekabuddha, and Annabhāra was consequently appointed the king’s treasurer. As a kammic fruit of his offering to the paccekabuddha, it is said, in his youth Anuruddha was never to hear the words “there isn’t any.” After he attained arahantship, one day the Venerable Anuruddha thought, “Where has my old friend, the merchant Sumana, been reborn?” With the divine eye he then saw that he was a child of seven years named Culla Sumana, living in a market town not far away. Anuruddha proceeded there and spent the rainy season of three months living with the support of Culla Sumana’s family. After the rains, he gave Culla Sumana the novice ordination, and as soon as he shaved his head the boy attained arahantship.
In his verses of the Theragāthā Anuruddha says of himself: I know well my past abodes, Where it is that I lived before. I dwelt among the Thirty-three devas Occupying the rank of Sakka.
Seven times I was a human king And there I exercised rulership. Lord of Jambusaṇḍa, a conqueror, I ruled over the entire continent.
Without force, without weapons, I exercised command by Dhamma. From here seven, and another seven, Thus fourteen turns in the round of births, I recall my previous abodes: I then dwelt in the deva-world. (Th 913–15)
In the Jātaka tales, there are no fewer than twenty-three accounts telling us of Anuruddha’s earlier lives. In most cases he was Sakka, king of the gods (J 194, 243, 347, 429, 430, 480, 494, 499, 537, 540, 541, 545, 547). Once he was Sakka’s messenger, a deity called Pañcasikha, who was a celestial musician. In the seven earthly lives that are mentioned, he was most often an ascetic (423, 488, 509, 522), and twice a brother of the Bodhisatta. In three other human rebirths he was a king (485), a court priest (515), and a court charioteer (276). Only once is his rebirth as an animal reported, namely, as that amorous wood pigeon mentioned above (490). Thus in all, the Jātakas record that he was fifteen times a deity, seven times a human being, and once an animal.
The fact that he was so often a king, celestial or human, indicates the power and strength in his nature. But he was quite a different godking than Zeus with his amorous liaisons, and different also from Jehovah, who often inflicted harsh punishment on people. As Sakka, king of the Thirty-three gods, he was rather one who always protected and helped others. When the Bodhisatta was in need of help, he came to his succor. He protected him from being executed when he was defamed. On that occasion the Bodhisatta’s wife had raised her voice to high heaven over this injustice, and Sakka—the future Anuruddha— was so moved by her impassioned entreaty that he took action and saved the Bodhisatta (J 194).
On another occasion the Bodhisatta, a king, had forbidden animal sacrifices in his kingdom. A bloodthirsty demon resented this and wanted to kill the king, but Sakka appeared and protected the Bodhisatta once again (347). On other occasions Sakka wanted to put the Bodhisatta to a test in order to strengthen his virtue. So in the last of the Jātaka tales, the Vessantara Jātaka, Sakka, in the guise of an old brahmin, asked the Bodhisatta for his wife in order to test his joyful generosity (547). On another occasion Sakka also wanted to test whether the Bodhisatta was firm in his vow of generosity and asked him for his eyes (499). When the Bodhisatta was leading the life of an ascetic, Sakka wanted to test his patience and forbearance and blamed him for his physical ugliness. The Bodhisatta told him of his ugly deeds that had made him so ugly, and he praised the goodness and purity for which he was now striving. Then Sakka said that he would grant him a wish.
What the Bodhisatta asked for was freedom from malice, hate, greed, and lust; further he wished that he might never hurt anyone. All that, Sakka explained, was not in his own power to grant, but had to come from one’s own moral effort (440). Sakka also tested the Bodhisatta’s frugality (429, 430). In a third group of accounts, Sakka—once again the future Anuruddha—invited the Bodhisatta to his heaven and showed him the mysteries of the celestial and the hell worlds. This was told in the story of the musician Guttila, which we have already recounted (J 243). In the stories of King Nimi (541) and of the charitable King Sādhina (494), Sakka also invited them to his heaven. From his lives as a human being we may note two revealing episodes. In one birth, when Anuruddha was a court brahmin and counsellor, the king asked him how advantageous actions and justice could be united by one who was a ruler. Without intellectual pride, the brahmin admitted that he could not answer that question.
Instead, he went assiduously in search of one who knew, and he found him in the Bodhisatta (J 515). When he was a royal charioteer, he once wanted to avoid a heavy downpour which was threatening. To speed up the horses, he hit them with the goad. From that time on, whenever the horses came to that particular spot on the road, they would start to gallop as if aware of a danger lurking just there. Seeing this, the charioteer regretted deeply that he had frightened and hurt those noble steeds, and he admitted that by having done so he did not fully observe the traditional Kuru virtues (276). All these diverse and colourful stories have a common feature. They show several characteristic qualities of Anuruddha: his strong active striving for virtue, his strength of character, and his concern for the welfare of others.
They also show that his skill in meditation and his mastery of supernormal faculties had their roots in his experiences during many lives as Sakka, ruler of the gods.
THE BUDDHA’S PARINIBBĀNA AND AFTERWARD The Venerable Anuruddha was present at the Buddha’s decease, recounted in the Mahāparinibbāna Sutta (DN 16; see also SN 6:15), and he played a major role in the affairs of the newly orphaned Sangha. When the Master knew that death was close, he entered into the full sequence of the meditative absorptions and then attained the cessation of perception and feeling. At that moment Ānanda turned to Anuruddha and said: “Venerable Anuruddha, the Blessed One has passed away.” But Anuruddha, an arahant endowed with the divine eye, had been able to gauge the level of meditation into which the Buddha had entered, and he corrected the younger monk: “Not so, friend Ānanda, the Blessed One has not passed away. He has entered the cessation of perception and feeling.”
The Buddha, however, rising from the attainment of cessation, turned his mind back to the stages of absorption in their reverse order until he reached the first jhāna, then rose up again to the fourth jhāna, and rising from it he instantly passed away into the Nibbāna-element without any residue. When the Enlightened One had finally passed away, both Brahmā, the high divinity, and Sakka, king of the Thirty-three gods, honoured the Buddha in verses evoking the law of impermanence. The third to speak was Anuruddha, who uttered these verses:
There was no more in-and-out breathing In the Stable One of steady mind When unstirred, bent on peace, The One with Vision attained final Nibbāna. With unshrinking mind He endured the painful feeling; The deliverance of the mind Was like the quenching of a lamp.
Many of the monks attending the Buddha’s last hours grieved and lamented over the Master’s death. But Anuruddha exhorted them with a reminder of impermanence: “Enough, friends! Do not grieve, do not lament! For has not the Blessed One declared that with all that is dear and beloved there must be change, separation, and severance? Of that which is arisen, come into being, compounded, and subject to decay, how can one say: ‘May it not come to dissolution!”’ He also informed the monks that the deities, too, were lamenting: “There are deities who are earthly minded and with dishevelled hair they weep, with uplifted arms they weep; flinging themselves on the ground, they roll from side to side lamenting: ‘Too soon has the Blessed One attained Parinibbāna! Too soon has the Sublime One attained Parinibbāna! Too soon has the Eye of the World vanished from our sight!”’
But, he added, those deities who were free of passion, mindful and clearly comprehending, simply reflected: “Impermanent are all compounded things. How could this be otherwise?” Anuruddha and Ānanda spent the rest of the night near the deceased Master. In the morning, Anuruddha asked Ānanda to announce the passing away of the Blessed One to the householders living in the next village, Kusinārā. At once they gathered and prepared the funeral pyre. When, however, eight strong men tried to lift the body up to the pyre they could not do so. They then went to the Venerable Anuruddha and asked why the body could not be moved. Anuruddha told them that the deities wanted a different ceremony and explained their intentions, whereupon all happened just as the deities wished. With regard to the procedure of burning the body, the householders turned to the Venerable Ānanda for advice. This shows the different competence of the two half-brothers: Anuruddha was master of otherworldly affairs, while Ānanda was well versed in practical matters.
After the Buddha’s demise, the guidance of the Order did not go to his next of kin, as for instance the arahant Anuruddha. The Buddha had not nominated any formal successor, but the natural veneration of the monks and laypeople concentrated on the Venerable Mahākassapa. He was the one who initiated the First Council at which five hundred arahant monks rehearsed and codified the Buddha’s teachings. Before the council opened, the Venerable Ānanda had not yet attained to arahantship and this would have excluded him from participating. The elder monks, headed by Anuruddha, therefore urged him to make a determined effort to break through the last fetters and realize final liberation. Within a short time Ānanda succeeded and so could join the other elders in the council as an arahant. During its sessions, he recited the numerous teachings, which he of all monks had best retained in his memory. In this manner Anuruddha had helped his half-brother to attain the goal of liberation, for the good of the Sangha and for the good of all who seek a path to deliverance; and this has remained a blessing for us even today.
According to the commentary to the Dīgha Nikāya, Anuruddha himself was entrusted at the council with the preservation of the Aṅguttara Nikāya. About the Venerable Anuruddha’s death nothing else is known except the serene final stanza of his twenty verses in the Theragāthā: In the Veluva village of the Vajjians, Below a thicket of bamboo trees, Cankerless, I shall pass into Nibbāna When my life force is spent. (Th 919
References: 1. The Great Disciples of The Buddha by Nyanaponika Thera and Hellmuth Hecker 2. https://suttacentral.net/