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Shoskyid's Ordeal: A Tibetan's Journey to the Netherworld
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10722 |
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Section : |
CULTURE
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| Issue
Date : |
6 / 1993 |
1,418 Words |
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Retold By Jan Knappert
Jan Knappert is a retired London University professor of
African and Asian languages; he now devotes his time to
writing. A thorough explanation of the origin of Basotho tales
and one folktale used to educate young chieflings appeared in
our last issue. |
Tibet has been a literate nation for thirteen centuries; its oral poetic and legendary traditions are incredibly rich. The wisdom of Tibetan scholars and teachers was recorded in rare and beautiful manuscripts and woodblock printed books, many of which were lost when Chinese troops destroyed most of Tibet's monasteries forty years ago. Nevertheless, the unwritten tradition of recitation and singing of Tibet's heroic epics and legends remains alive and full of beauty.
One of these great legends is the story of the judgment of the dead. In it, a man named Shoskyid tells of his visit to the netherworld, where he underwent the moral scrutiny of the judge of the underworld, King Shosgyal.
In his account, Shoskyid wrote that he had been ill for sixteen days, felt his last hour approaching, and called his sons and his daughter to his side.
Judgment of the Dead
When my children had assembled, this is what I told them. "I have committed many sins, and I have done little good. Therefore, give a third of my property to charity. Of my jewelry my daughter will receive half; the other half must be given to charity. One of my sons must become a priest. Be good, virtuous, and generous." Suddenly I felt as if I were being tossed on the waves of an immense ocean while thunder rumbled. I heard voices and saw flames, then I felt as if my limbs had been torn from my body. Finally I sank down and lost consciousness. Suddenly I heard someone call my name. It was my father, who has been dead for years.
My father took me by the hand and told me to follow him. We walked through an immense desert until at last we arrived on the bank of a broad river, where we entered a city full of people who looked very unhappy. Across the river lay a long, high bridge; on the other bank, in the dim distance, I saw soft hills, a sunny country, green but far away. My father had to leave me behind. I met a man and asked him, "How can I arrive on the other side?" He answered, "You will have to stay here in Betweenland suffering pain until your sins are lighter than your virtues. Some stay here a few weeks, some many years."
A voice called me, so I went through a gate into a vast hall. I saw the king of the underworld, wearing a crown and purple robes and seated like the Buddha in meditation; he was the judge. On his right hand there stood a man with an ox head. He held a mirror, in
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