The Life Stories of the Female Lay Disciples – 2258 

 

 

Such is the nature of sensual objects that through their continued 
enjoyment one tends to forget that they belong to another, and is tempted 
into thinking that they are one’s own. 

At that time, the householder’s son, having fun with Sirimā on the upper storey 
of the mansion, drew aside the lace curtain of the window and looked down into 
the inside of the house. At the same time, Uttarā happened to look up into the 
window and her eyes met those of her husband. The husband smiled with the 
thought: “This Uttarā is looking like a being from the lower worlds of Niraya. 
How strange of her to deny herself the luxury of her status and to toil herself 
unnecessarily in the kitchen, mingling with the servants.” Uttarā also smiled 
with the thought: “This son of the householder, being forgetful, thinks that this 
life of ease and comfort is lasting.” 

Sirimā, who saw the couple smile at each other, became furious with jealousy. 
“This slave, Uttarā, is flirting with my husband even in my presence,” she 
thought to herself, for she had now an illusion that she and the householder’s son 
were actually husband and wife. She ran down the stairs, fuming. Uttarā 
understood that Sirimā, after half a month of dominion of the house, considered 
it her own. So, she entered into the absorption of loving-kindness (

mettā-jhāna

) 

and stood sedately. Sirimā, rushing through the servants, took hold of a ladle, 
filled it with boiling oil from a pot which was cooking over the fire, and 
suddenly poured it over Uttarā’s head. But, since Uttarā was dwelling in the 
absorption of loving-kindness, and her whole body was diffused with loving-
kindness, she did not feel the heat of the oil which flowed over her body like 
water onto a lotus leaf. 

At that moment, Uttarā’s servant accosted Sirimā with abusive words, saying: 
“You slave woman, you are a mere hireling of our mistress. Yet after staying in 
this house for just fifteen days you try to rival our mistress.” These words 
awakened Sirimā to her true position. She realized she had gone too far. She 
went to Uttarā, fell on her feet, and apologised to her, saying: “Dear madam, I 
had been reckless in my behaviour. Do forgive me!” Uttarā replied: “Dear 
Sirimā, I cannot accept your apology now. You must first obtain forgiveness 
from my father, the Buddha, before I can forgive you.” 

Just then, the Buddha and his company of monastics arrived and sat on the seats 
prepared for them. Sirimā approached the Buddha and prostrating herself at his