Before sunrise, Cheebuk was standing before Prithusen’s cell. Prithusen was lost in thought. Seeing the smiling face of the monk in front of him, he respectfully rose and offered his salutations.

‘Do you have any doubts weighing on your mind, my son?’ the monk asked, raising his hand in blessing.

‘None, honoured sir, your teachings have freed this devotee of all doubts,’ Prithusen replied with bowed head.

‘Is there any fear left?’

‘None, honoured sir.’

‘Do you have any enemy?’

‘With your blessing, I have no enemy left, honoured sir.’

‘Will you go with me to the door of Rudradhir for alms?’

‘Honoured sir, to the door of Rudradhir or to any other place that your worship may command.’

‘Do you then apply to take the vows in order that you may enter the fold of the Buddha, of the Holy Word, of the Monastic Order?’

‘Honoured sir, I submit myself for ordination into the Monastic Order.’

‘Your wish shall be granted. Prepare yourself to receive it.’

Monk Cheebuk gave instructions to the monastery to make arrangements for the reception into the fold of a new bhikshu.

Before midday, Prithusen, his head shaven, dressed in russet robes, and holding a begging bowl in his hand, emerged from the door of the monastery in the company of the physician monk Cheebuk.

Monk Cheebuk, accompanied by another bhikshu, stood outside the heavily guarded gate of the palace of the lawgiver of the caste system, the Chairman of the Council, Acharya Rudradhir.

‘Revered sirs, wait till the alms arrive from the kitchen,’ the doorkeeper said to them respectfully.

‘Today we desire to receive alms from the Acharya’s own hand,’ the monk replied, smiling, to the doorkeeper.

‘Sir, the Acharya’s instructions are that no one can enter the palace without his explicit permission. Please excuse me.’

‘Pray, convey to the Acharya the blessings of the monk Cheebuk and his companion bhikshu,’ Cheebuk said, still smiling.

When the command came back from inside the palace, Cheebuk, taking his companion with him, along with the doorkeeper, went into the audience chamber of Acharya Rudradhir.

The Acharya, with numerous palmyra leaves and birch leaves lying before him, was dictating orders to the scribes. Seeing the monks standing in front of him, the Acharya got up from his seat and, joining his hands, said to Cheebuk, ‘Acharya Rudradhir, son of Acharya Pravardhan, bows before the eminent physician of Madra, the wise monk Cheebuk.’ And bowing before the monk’s companion too, the Acharya said, ‘The unknown Buddhist monk may also kindly accept the salutations of the householder.’

As both the monks took their seats, the Acharya sat down too.

‘Your reverence may kindly command what service I can do.’

‘Arya, all that a bhikshu can ask for is alms,’ the monk said. ‘The Acharya may express his inmost wish.’

‘I seek your blessings, honoured sir. When my body suffers from any ailment I shall seek the help of the honoured physician.’ The Acharya smiled, and again joined his hands.