The Story
One day, the Buddha was wandering through the land of the Kurus with a large company of mendicants when he arrived at a town called Thullakoṭṭhika. The local brahmins and householders, having heard of the Buddha’s excellent reputation, came to pay their respects. As the Buddha taught the assembly, inspiring them with a Dhamma talk, a young man named Raṭṭhapāla sat among the listeners.
Raṭṭhapāla was no ordinary man. He was the beloved only son of the town’s leading family, raised in luxury and comfort, knowing nothing of suffering. Yet as he listened to the Buddha’s words, a powerful realization dawned upon him: living at home, it was nearly impossible to lead the spiritual life in its utter fullness and purity.
He resolved to shave off his hair and beard, don the ocher robes, and go forth into homelessness.
But there was one obstacle: his parents. When Raṭṭhapāla asked for their permission, they refused outright. “You are our only child,” they pleaded. “Even when you die we will lose you against our wishes. How can we allow you to go forth while you are still alive?”
Three times he asked. Three times they refused.
So Raṭṭhapāla laid himself down on the bare ground and declared, “I will either die right here or go forth.” He refused to eat—not one meal, not two, not three, all the way to the seventh meal.
His parents first tried reasoning with him, then begged him to get up and enjoy life. He remained silent. They sent his friends to persuade him. Still he lay there. Finally, recognizing their son’s unshakeable determination, his friends convinced the parents: “If you don’t allow him, he will die here. But if you do, you will see him again. And if he doesn’t enjoy the renunciate life, he will simply come back.”
The parents relented. Raṭṭhapāla rose, regained his strength, and received ordination from the Buddha.
Within a fortnight of his ordination, Raṭṭhapāla, living diligently and resolutely, attained full awakening. He had completed the spiritual journey—rebirth was ended, what had to be done was done.
Sometime later, with the Buddha’s permission, Raṭṭhapāla returned to Thullakoṭṭhika to visit his parents. When his father saw him approaching—a shaven-headed monk with bowl and robe—he cried out bitterly, “Our beloved only son has been made to go forth by these shavelings, these fake ascetics!”
At his father’s house, Raṭṭhapāla received no alms, only abuse. A family servant was about to throw away the previous night’s porridge, and he asked her to pour it into his bowl. As he ate this humble meal by a wall, his father found him and was shocked. When invited to return to lay life and enjoy his great wealth, Raṭṭhapāla replied that if his father would take his advice, he would dump all that gold into the Ganges—for it would only bring sorrow.
His former wives, adorned in their finest, came to him asking what kind of celestial nymphs he was seeking that he would renounce them. He calmly addressed them as “sisters,” causing them to faint on the spot. Then he spoke verses revealing the true nature of the adorned body—a painted puppet, a body built of sores, bones encased in skin.
Later, King Koravya came to see him, puzzled. The king listed the four reasons people typically renounce the world: decay due to old age, due to sickness, loss of wealth, or loss of relatives. None of these applied to the young, healthy, wealthy Raṭṭhapāla. So why had he gone forth?
Raṭṭhapāla answered with four profound teachings he had learned from the Buddha.
The Key Teachings
The Four Summaries of the Dhamma
These are the four truths that inspired Raṭṭhapāla’s renunciation:
- The world is unstable and swept away (Upanīyati loko addhuvo)
Everything shifts and changes. Nothing remains the same. The king himself admitted that in his youth he was strong and battle-hardened, but now at eighty years old, he sometimes intends to step in one place but his foot goes elsewhere. Youth decays. Strength fades. All things are carried away by time.
- The world has no shelter and no savior (Atāṇo loko anabhissaro)
No one can truly protect you from the consequences of your own existence. The king had entire armies—elephants, cavalry, chariots, infantry—yet when a chronic illness afflicted him, not all his friends, relatives, and courtiers could share even a fraction of his pain. He alone had to feel it. Each person bears their own suffering; no one can ultimately save another.
- The world has no owner—you must leave it all behind and pass on (Assako loko, sabbaṃ pahāya gamanīyaṃ)
The king had abundant gold, both coined and uncoined, stored above and below ground. Yet could he ensure that in his next life he would enjoy the same wealth? No. Others would inherit his property while he would pass on according to his deeds. At death, we leave everything behind. Nothing truly belongs to us.
- The world is wanting, insatiable, the slave of craving (Ūno loko atitto taṇhādāso)
The king ruled over the prosperous land of Kuru. If a messenger came from the east describing an even richer country, the king would want to conquer it. If messengers came from all directions and even from across the ocean, he would want to conquer them all. No amount of possession satisfies. Craving always demands more, making us its slaves.
Practical Observations on Human Nature
The verses spoken by Raṭṭhapāla offer additional insights:
· Wealth does not guarantee giving: Rich people often hoard their wealth out of delusion, never finding satisfaction, always yearning for more. · Even the mightiest are unsatisfied: A king who conquers the entire earth from sea to sea would still yearn for the further shore. · Death comes to all, craving intact: People die with their desires unfulfilled. Sensual pleasures never truly satisfy. · Riches cannot help at death: No amount of wealth follows you. Not children, not spouse, not kingdom. The body is wrapped in a single cloth and burned; all wealth is left behind. · Wisdom surpasses wealth: Wisdom leads to completion and liberation. Without it, people do evil deeds again and again, entering wombs and transmigrating from life to life. · Sensual pleasures are deceptive: They appear diverse, sweet, and delightful, but they disturb the mind. Seeing this danger, the wise go forth.
The Four Conventional Reasons for Renunciation
The king’s list of why people renounce remains relevant:
Decay Description Old age Too frail to acquire wealth or enjoy life Sickness Gravely ill, unable to pursue worldly goals Loss of wealth Previously rich but now impoverished Loss of relatives Friends and family have dwindled away
Raṭṭhapāla had none of these—yet he renounced anyway. His motivation was deeper: direct insight into the nature of existence itself.
Conclusion
The story of Raṭṭhapāla is not merely an ancient tale of one man’s renunciation. It is an invitation to examine our own lives. Without waiting for old age, sickness, poverty, or loss to force our hand, we can choose to see clearly now: the world is unstable, offers no ultimate shelter, owns nothing, and is driven by insatiable craving.
Raṭṭhapāla did not renounce out of despair but out of wisdom. He saw that the spiritual life—lived fully and purely—leads to genuine freedom. And as he told the king at the end: “Seeing this, I went forth. It’s a sure bet that the ascetic life is better.”