A section from the journey

The King Who Renounced

There is a moving story told by the Jains about how Chandragupta's life ended. In their account, the emperor became a Jain ascetic in old age, gave up his throne, and travelled south with his teacher Bhadrabahu during a famine. At a hill called Shravanabelagola, he ended his life by sallekhana, a calm fast to death. This is Jain tradition, well kept in their own texts, and we tell it as such, with respect.

We close this chapter not with a sword, but with its laying-down. The story of how Chandragupta's life ended is, in its most loved telling, a story of letting go.

Before we tell it, one honest word. This account comes from the tradition. The Jains are an ancient path of this land, who hold non-harm above all. They have kept this story carefully in their own texts. We tell it as theirs, with respect, knowing that other sources do not record the end of his life in the same way.

Here, then, is what the Jains remember. After his many years of conquest and rule, Chandragupta grew weary of power. He turned his heart toward the spirit and the search for release. In his later life, they say, he became a Jain ascetic, a monk who owns nothing and harms nothing.

And so this emperor, who had held most of a subcontinent, gave it all up. He gave up the throne. He put aside crown and treasury and army, and took up the begging bowl and the long road of the wanderer. Picture that: the most powerful man in the land, choosing to own nothing at all.

When a great famine fell upon the north, the story goes, Chandragupta journeyed south with his teacher, the revered Jain sage . They came at last to a quiet hill called Shravanabelagola, in the south, in the land we now call Karnataka. It is a holy place for the Jains to this day.

There, the Jains say, Chandragupta met his end by . This is a practice held sacred in their path: when life nears its close, to let go of the body slowly and willingly, by a calm fast, with the mind turned wholly toward higher things. It is meant as a death faced in peace and full awareness, not in fear. So the old emperor passed, they say, with an open and quiet heart.

Now, why end an empire's beginning with such a tale? Because it carries a truth this whole era keeps whispering. In this land, the one who lets go of power is honoured even more than the one who seizes it. The crown is great, but the renouncing of the crown is greater still.

Hold that thought, for it will return. Soon we will meet Chandragupta's own grandson, Ashoka, the mightiest of all these emperors, who will also, in his way, lay down the sword. The thread runs from grandfather to grandson: that the highest greatness is not in conquest, but in what one is willing to give up.

A king with everything chose to keep nothing. We need not fast on a hill to feel the question he answered. What is one thing you hold tightly, that you sense might be lighter to set down? What would it feel like to loosen your grip, just a little?