Sacred Manasarovara and its Legends.
It was now August 4th. After proceeding about ten miles over an
undulating range of mountains we came in sight of Man-ri, a peak
of perpetual snow, which has an altitude of 25,600 feet above the
sea-level. The view of Man-ri, rising majestically high above
the surrounding mountains (themselves of great elevation) was
sublimely grand. While standing absorbed in the severe magnificence
of the scenery, I was treated to another experience, which was as
soul-stirring as any earthly phenomenon could be. A magical change in
the weather was heralded by a sudden flash of lightning, followed by
another, yet another and another, new accompanied by rolling thunder.
Heavy pelting hail-stones then joined in the war of elements, which
literally shook the mighty mountains to their very foundations, and
filled the air with the utmost confusion of terrific noises and lurid
tongues of fire. Standing almost alone upon a great height, I saw
black clouds with fearful suddenness envelope the world of vision in
frightful darkness, made doubly dark by the contrasts produced by
the momentary glare of pale, penetrating lightning, which, in the
same instant, revealed the glittering snow on the grand peaks of the
Himālayas, and the deepest chasms, thousands of fathoms below!
The awe-inspiring scene lasted for about an hour, and then, with
equally wondrous suddenness, the sky became blue and the sun shone
forth, serene and calm, with not a whisper of wind to remind one of the
mighty commotions of the moment before. We did but little walking after
this wonderful sight, and, coming to the edge of a marsh-like pond,
we pitched our tent there for the night. I was now the guest of my
companions, and I was not sorry that I had nothing to do with gathering
the yak dung, or fetching water, and building the fire. I was given the
seat of honor in the tent, and nothing was exacted of me but to sit
down like a good priest, read the Sacred Text and then preach in the
evening.
On the 6th of August we had to go up a great slope of extremely sharp
inclination, and I was offered a ride on one of my companions’ yaks, an
offer which I readily accepted with entire satisfaction. Furthermore,
all my share of the luggage, as well as part of the burdens of my
sheep, was transferred to the back of one of my fellow-pilgrims, and
both myself and my original companions had altogether an easy time of
it, as was the case through the weeks that followed.
[Illustration: LAKE MANASAROVARA.]
About thirteen miles onwards a view opened before us which I shall
never forget, so exquisitely grand was the scenery. In short, we were
now in the presence of the sacred Lake Mānasarovara. A huge octagon in
shape, with marvellously symmetrical indentations, Lake Mānasarovara,
with its clear placid waters, and the mighty Mount Kailāsa guarding
its north-western corner, form a picture which is at once unique and
sublime, and well worthy of its dignified surroundings--calm, dustless
and rugged. Mount Kailāsa itself towers so majestically above the
peaks around, that I fancied I saw in it the image of our mighty Lord
Buḍḍha, calmly addressing His five hundred disciples. Verily, verily,
it was a natural maṇdala. The hunger and thirst, the perils of dashing
stream and freezing blizzard, the pain of writhing under heavy burdens,
the anxiety of wandering over trackless wilds, the exhaustion and the
lacerations, all the troubles and sufferings I had just come through,
seemed like dust, which was washed away and purified by the spiritual
waters of the lake; and thus I attained to the spiritual plane of
Non-Ego, together with this scenery showing Its-own-Reality.
Lake Mānasarovara is generally recognised as the highest body of fresh
water in the world, its elevation above the sea-level being something
over fifteen thousand five hundred feet. In Tibetan it is called
Mapham Yum-tso. It is the Anavaṭapṭa of Samskṛṭ (the lake without
heat or trouble) and in it centre many of the Buḍḍhistic legends. It
is this Anavaṭapṭa which forms the subject of the famous poetical
passage in the _Gospel of Kegon_, named in Japanese and in Samskṛṭ
_Ārya-Buḍḍha-Araṭan-saka-nāma Mahāvaipulya-Sūṭra_. The passage gives
the name of South Zenbu to a certain continent of the world. _Zenbu_ is
a deflection of _jamb_, a phonetic translation of the sound produced
by anything of weight falling into placid water. Now the legend has it
that in the centre of the Anavaṭapṭa is a tree which bears fruits that
are omnipotent in healing all human ills, and are consequently much
sought after both by Gods and men. When one of these fruits falls into
the pond it produces the sound _jamb_. Further, it is said that the
lake has four outlets for its waters, which are respectively called
Mabcha Khanbab (flowing out of a peacock’s mouth), Langchen Khanbab
(flowing out of a bull’s mouth), Tamchok Khanbab (flowing out of a
horse’s mouth), and Senge Khanbab (flowing out of a lion’s mouth),
which respectively form the sources of the four sacred rivers of India.
It is from these notions that the sacredness of the Anavaṭapṭa is
evolved, the name of Zenbu derived, and the religious relations between
Tibet and India established. As regards these four rivers, the legend
says: “The sands of silver are in the south river; the sands of gold
are in the west river; the sands of diamond are in the north river, and
the sands of emerald are in the east river.” These rivers are further
said each to circle seven times round the lake and then to take the
several directions indicated. It is said also that giant lotus flowers
bloom in the lake, the size of which is as large as those of the
paradise of the Buḍḍha Amitābha, and the Buḍḍha and Boḍhisaṭṭvas are
seen there sitting on those flowers, while in the surrounding mountains
are found the ‘hundred herbs,’ and also the birds of paradise singing
their celestial melodies. In short, Anavaṭapṭa is described to be the
only real paradise on earth, with a living Buḍḍha and five hundred
saints inhabiting Mount Kailāsa on its north-west, and five hundred
immortals making their home on Man-ri, that rises on its southern
shore, all enjoying eternal beatitude.
Reading that magnificent description, I believe that anybody would
desire to see the spot; but the things mentioned in the Scriptures
cannot be seen with our mortal eyes. The real thing is the region in
its wonderfully inspiring character, and an unutterably holy elevation
is to be felt there. On that night the brilliant moon was shining in
the sky and was reflected on the lake, and Mount Kailāsa appeared dimly
on the opposite bank. These impelled me to compose an _uta_:
Among these mountains high here sleeps the lake
Serene--“Devoid of seething cares”--so named
By native bards; its broad expanse appears
Like the octagonal mirror of Japan.
The grand Kailas’ majestic capped with snow,
The Moon o’erhanging from the skies above,
Bestow their grateful shadows on the lake.
Its watery brilliant sheen illumines me;
All pangs of pain and sorrow washed away.
With these my mind besoothed now wanders far
E’en to Akashi in Japan, my home,
A seashore known for moonlight splendors fair.