The Buddha on Alms Round in Kapilavatthu

The next morning, the Buddha entered the royal city of Kapilavatthu on alms round, accompanied by twenty thousand arahats. Yet not a single member of the royal family came forward to greet him.

As he reached the city gate, the Buddha paused and reflected. He considered how Buddhas of the past had gone for alms in the cities of their royal fathers. Did they accept food only from the wealthy and elite, or did they walk from door to door, receiving alms equally from rich and poor alike?

Through his ability to recollect all past lives, the Buddha understood clearly: no Buddha of the past had ever restricted alms to selected households. All had followed the same ancient practice—walking from door to door without discrimination.

With this understanding, the Buddha resolved to uphold that timeless tradition. He reflected that only by embodying the practice himself would his disciples truly learn their duty as monastics: to go on alms round impartially, without preference or exception.

Having made this decision, the Buddha began his alms round at the house nearest the city gate, stopping at each home in turn, one after another.

This moment reveals the Buddha’s equanimity in action—not only did he not discriminate, but he is also unwaveringly committed to setting an example, so that others might one day see clearly and benefit from the Dhamma.

Note: It is also important to know that Buddha went on an alms round. He did not sit in the temple waiting to be served. Therefore, any self-proclaimed enlightened teacher who waits for people to serve them like gods is an immediate indication that they are not truly enlightened. Why? Because ALL past Buddhas go on alms round.

Yasodharā Sees the Buddha

As the Buddha walked through the city, people living in two- and three-storey houses came out onto their balconies to pay homage, exclaiming with reverence:

“Here comes our noble lord, Prince Siddhattha, receiving alms.”

Hearing the commotion, Princess Yasodharā, the mother of Rāhula, reflected quietly to herself:

“In former days, my lord traveled in royal splendor, borne on a golden palanquin. Now he walks through the city with shaven head and beard, wearing dyed robes, bowl in hand. Is this fitting—or does it appear unseemly?”

Moved by both concern and longing, she opened her balcony window to see for herself. What she saw stilled all doubt.

The roads and narrow lanes of Kapilavatthu were illuminated by rays of light streaming from the Buddha’s body. As he walked with calm dignity, his presence was adorned with the thirty-two major and eighty minor marks of a Great Being, surrounded by a six-hued aura of light.

Pointing toward him, Yasodharā drew young Rāhula’s attention and recited verses praising the Buddha—from the radiant crown of his head to the soles of his feet.

These verses revealed not attachment born of clinging, but a deep, enduring love rooted in respect and recognition. Though Siddhattha had renounced the palace and become the Buddha, the affection Yasodharā held for him had not turned bitter. From this, we understand that Siddhattha left the palace not because love had faded, but because compassion had grown even larger.

Later generations of artists would draw upon these verses when depicting the Buddha’s form—seeking to express through art what words could only partially convey.

Having revealed the Buddha’s glory and dignity to her son, Yasodharā then approached King Suddhodana and said:

“Your Majesty, your royal son, the Buddha, is now going through the city on alms round, accompanied by twenty thousand arahats.”

Here’s the praises sung by Yashodara in a modernized presentation.

Dear Rāhula, there appears a lion among men—an extraordinary and exalted person. His form is marked by perfect harmony and noble signs: dark, lustrous hair curling softly clockwise, a radiant forehead like the rising sun, a slender, well-shaped nose, and a body that shines with serene brilliance. His feet bear the sacred marks, with red soles adorned by auspicious symbols, and his posture is graceful and dignified.

Born of the flawless Sakya lineage, he possesses all the major and minor noble characteristics and comes into the world for the welfare of beings across the three realms. His eyes are deep and dark, his brows arched like Sakka’s bow, his face calm and luminous like the full moon. He moves with the majesty of a royal elephant, speaks with a deep, sweet, harmonious voice, and has a tongue red as the hibiscus and perfectly white teeth.

Endowed with impeccable morality, unwavering concentration, and an unshakable, tranquil mind, he inspires reverence among humans, devas, and brahmas alike. His neck and chest are full and powerful, his skin gleams like pure gold, and a single white curl rests between his brows. Like the moon traveling its path through the sky, he walks among arahats as the leader of monks and the King of Dhamma.

Surrounded by twenty thousand arahats while receiving alms, radiant like the full moon among the stars, this exalted one—now fully awakened—was once your father when he lived as a layman.

The verses are poetic and devotional, reflecting the loving heart of a wife to her husband. I will share the Pali-verse of these praises later. Watch out for the release under the “My Buddhist Songs” segment.

REFLECTIONS

Points for reflections or group discussion.

Equality and Non-Discrimination

• Why was it important that the Buddha went door to door, rather than accepting food only from the elite?
• How does this challenge modern ideas of status, privilege, and exclusivity?
• In reality, do you notice instances of discrimination within Buddhist circles? Whereby access to dharma and teachers is restricted to some privileged people.

Leading by Example

• The Buddha did not instruct his disciples first—he acted first.
• In what ways does our conduct teach others more powerfully than our words?
• In a world of megaphones and mass media, do you think leading by example is still relevant?

May all be well and happy.