“Women! Then there is no caste among you?”
“Thus it is written in one of our sacred books: ‘A man does not become a Brahmana by his family or by his birth. In whom there is truth and righteousness, he is blessed, he is a Brahmana.’”
It was the first time that Oman had dreamed of such a thing as a social order without caste; and the idea was so overwhelming that for some moments he was silent out of sheer amazement. All his preconceived notions went whirling in his head while he strove to adjust himself to this. Never, until this Bhikkhu had spoken in the market-place, had he had any idea of a religion built solely for the help of human frailty, and for the consolation of human sorrow. Now, what a vista was suddenly opened before him! Small wonder that he shut his eyes to the first radiant flood of light. That he could see anything at all of the possibilities carried in Hushka’s words, was due to the fact of his three years of bitter solitude and lonely meditation. After a few moments, during which Hushka kept a wise silence, Oman asked slowly, with a trembling that betrayed itself on his very lips:
“Could—a weaver—a Vaisya—become one of you? Could I become a Bhikkhu?”
“Art thou a weaver? I had thought thee Brahman born.”
“That also is true. I was born a Brahman.”
There was a short silence. Oman was sick now with dread of a next question,—that never came. Hushka was turning certain matters rapidly over in his mind. From the first, Oman’s intense interest in his words had been a mystery to him. Converts to Buddhism were seldom made, in this day. It was now most rarely that the Bhikkhus brought novices back with them for the Vassa; and the few that came were almost always of Sudra caste. Oman, on the other hand, was apparently of high breeding; and only some unusual fact could have brought him into his present situation. Hushka scented some misdeed, crime, perhaps, that had put the youth into present bad standing. But the misdeed of a Brahman was no Buddhist’s affair. To make him a convert was the chief consideration; for had not the great Buddha received into his order men of dark past? There was excellent precedent for what Hushka wished to do.
Later in his companionship with Oman, Hushka’s first suspicion of crime was completely laid by the openness of his pupil’s behavior. But, in justice to the Bhikkhu be it said, he had never, until the end, the faintest suspicion of the real nature of Oman’s trouble.
Many thoughts and much reasoning passed rapidly through Hushka’s mind; and then he turned again to the youth, and said to him: “Thou hast asked me if thou canst become a Bhikkhu. I answer thee—yes. But first you must know something of our lives, and the purpose of them. Then, understanding all that is to be renounced, if you would still join us, I will myself give you the first ordination, the Pabbagga, and will take you as my pupil. I will be your master, your Upagghaya; for I have instructed many youths through their novitiate. Later, you will be given the second, the highest ordination, Upasampada, and so become a Bhikkhu. But first you must understand whither I would lead you.”
“Tell me! Tell me,” besought Oman, looking into Hushka’s eyes, before whose steady orbs his own suddenly fell.