Recently, I wrote a brief introduction to the Buddhist canon, the sutras. Sutras come in many shapes and forms, but I want to focus on one of the most famous, and most popular to recite: The Heart Sutra.
A sutra book from Japan showing the Heart Sutra, preserved in old Chinese, but with Japanese pronunciation guides.
The full name of this sutra is the Heart of the Perfection of Wisdom Sutra (般若波羅蜜多心經), and was one in a series of “perfection of wisdom sutras” that were published starting around 2nd century BCE. Starting with the “Perfection of Wisdom in 8,000 Verses Sutra“, the authors made longer and longer versions, culminating to a 25,000 verse version of hte same sutra. Then, they started making shorter versions, getting down to the Diamond Sutra, and finally the Heart Sutra.
Or, so the theory goes.
The Heart Sutra is believed to distill the essence or “heart” of the Perfection of Wisdom teachings to its smallest, most essential version. More on that soon. This version is very short, can be read in 1-2 minutes, and is pretty cryptic. Because it is so short, it is easy to learn and memorize, and thus easy to recite. Its utility for everyday Buddhists is among the reasons it has such lasting popularity. I have a copy of a translation of the 8,000 verse sutra,1 and while it is interesting, it is a tome. It is not practical for most Buddhists to read such a tome, so you can imagine why the Heart Sutra was composed, and why it is so much more popular.
But that gets to an interesting question: who composed it? This is a surprisingly difficult question to answer.
The traditional assumption was that it was composed in India, using Sanskrit language, and then brought to China like most other Buddhist sutras. And yet, a scholar named Dr. Jan Nattier proposed an interesting theory that the Heart Sutra in particular was composed in China, not India, and that it was translated back to Sanskrit, not from it, by our favorite wandering monk Xuan-zang when he visited India. There is considerable debate about this, and valid arguments for one or the other, but it’s an interesting idea that some plucky Chinese monk found a clever way to distill the Perfection of Wisdom teachings into a more bite-sized form.
That said, one of the interesting features of the Heart Sutra is that it does contain a genuine Sanskrit mantra at the end (a trend that continues with later Buddhist texts) in the Siddham script:
𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖢𑖯𑖨𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖢𑖯𑖨𑖭𑖽𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖤𑖺𑖠𑖰𑖭𑖿𑖪𑖯𑖮𑖯 ga te ga te pā ra ga te pā ra saṃ ga te bo dhi svā hā
For various reasons, this mantra was written in Chinese characters that approximated the pronunciation of the Sanskrit:
As I eluded to earlier, the Heart Sutra is the most condensed version of the Perfection of Wisdom teachings, or prajñā-pāramitā in Sanskrit. This was a teaching that provided an important foundation for Mahayana Buddhism (everything from Tibet to Japan). “Perfection of Wisdom” is hard to explain. But, roughly speaking you can think of it as the fundamental understanding of existence, which is sitting right in front of your face, but not obvious until you see it. Like the first time you noticed a small crack in the wall. Once you see it, you don’t “unsee” it.
But instead, the Perfection of Wisdom is about undoing the filters in one’s own mind, so you can see the world unvarnished. That’s easy to say, but extremely tricky to sincerely accomplish. Hence the extraordinary accomplishments of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas.
The Heart Sutra talks a lot about “not this”, and “not that”, and like other similar sutras (e.g. the Diamond Sutra, another of the series), this is to try and undo the filters of one’s own mind. But, on its surface, the Heart Sutra is cryptic and vague. Yet, because it is so pithy, and so over time bits of it start to sink in, or something that didn’t make sense in the past finally clicks.
So, if you do pick up a copy of the Heart Sutra, don’t worry if it doesn’t really make sense. Recite it from time to time,2 study it with help sutras guides (there are many) and make it a part of your Buddhist life, regardless of what tradition you follow.
For a such tiny, little composition, it’s a pretty neat contribution to Buddhism.
1 Purchased years ago at Powell’s City of Books in Portland, OR. One of the best bookstores, and well worth a visit if you go there.
2 Some people recite in their native language, others recite in one or more “liturgical” languages. It doesn’t really matter. Pick something you can stick with. You can change it later.
Not too long ago, I found an old book I had forgotten I had: a translation of the Awakening of Faith in the Mahayana. For simplicity, we’ll call it the “Awakening of Faith” in this blog post. The Awakening of Faith is a Buddhist treatise, a śastra,1 written probably in the 6th century, but attributed to a Buddhist master in India, Aśvaghoṣa from the 2nd century. It is thought to have been composed in China, but likely drew from Indian sources, or was composed by an Indian-Buddhist monk living in China. Since it is mainly found in China, it is called Dàshéng Qǐxìn Lùn (大乘起信論).
Wikipedia points out that researchers now think a more appropriate title would be Awakening of Mahayana Faith in the Suchness of the mind. The 信 here might also be interpreted as “trust” or “entrusting”, so maybe Awakening of Mahayana-style Entrusting [in the Suchness of the Mind]? That reads a bit awkward though, so readers will have to decide how to phrase it.
If readers are curious what Mahayana Buddhism is, please feel free to read here.
This might sound like I am splitting hairs, but it is kind of important to emphasize that English terms like “faith” aren’t a good analogue for what the book is about. This is not a book of Christian-style faith. Instead, the author of the treatise addresses why they wrote The Awakening of Faith, when the same teachings are found throughout existing Mahayana sutras:
Though this teaching is presented in the sutras, the capacity and deeds of men today are no longer the same, nor are the conditions of their acceptance and comprehension….
Translation by Yoshito S. Hakeda
The author lists eight reason such as helping all attain peace of mind, liberating from suffering, and correcting heretical views (my words, not the book). In other words, the author wanted to both assert an orthodox Mahayana viewpoint of Buddhism, but also to clarify any misunderstandings and inspire others to take up the path. It is in a sense, a textbook introduction of Mahayana Buddhism.
Mahayana Buddhism is actually a pretty broad tradition, with lots of sub-schools, diverging viewpoints and so on. So, it’s hard to explain the entire tradition in a single book. Still, the treatise does a good job of touching on some essentials that many Mahayana Buddhist traditions today are founded upon. Traditions such as Zen, Pure Land, Nichiren, Tendai, and Vajrayana (among others) all have certain common teachings that pervade them all. The Awakening of Faith helps to enumerate what these are, in a fairly short, readable format, which for a 6th century text is pretty impressive.
To give an example, here is a quote on Suchness : a fancy term for reality, totality of existence, the Whole Enchilada, the Whole Shebang, etc, etc.:
[The essence of Suchness] knows no increase or decrease in ordinary men, the Hinayanists [earlier Buddhist schools], the Bodhisattvas, or the Buddhas. It was not brought into existence in the beginning, nor will it cease to be at the end of time; it is eternal through and through.
Page 65, translation by Yoshito S. Hakeda
If this sounds strangely familiar to readers, you might find something very similar in the Heart Sutra:
“Hear, Shariputra, all dharmas [all things, stuff] are marked with emptiness; they are neither produced nor destroyed, neither defiled nor immaculate, neither increasing nor decreasing….”
Translation by Ven. Thich Nhat Hanh in “Heart of Understanding”
You can definitely see some common themes between The Awakening of Faith and early Mahayana-Buddhist sutras such as the Heart Sutra. Further, The Awakening of Faith explores the notion of Bodhisattvas quite a bit:
The Buddha-Tathāgatas [e.g. the many buddhas], while in the stages of Bodhisattva-hood [i.e. on the cusp of becoming fully enlightened buddhas], exercised great compassion, practiced pāramitās [perfecting certain virtues], and accepted and transformed sentient beings. They took great vows, desiring to liberate all sentient beings through countless aeons until the end of future time, for they regarded all sentient beings as they regarded themselves.
Page 67, translation by Yoshito S. Hakeda
… but it gradually moves from theoretical teachings into more practical ones too. I was surprised to see the treatise openly teach the importance of developing faith in the Western Pure Land of Amida Buddha:
Next, suppose there is a man who learns this teaching for the first time and wishes to seek the correct faith but lacks courage and strength….It is as the sutra says: “If a man meditates wholly on Amitābha Buddha in the world of the Western Paradise and wishes to be born in that world, directing all the goodness he has cultivated [toward that goal], then he will be reborn there.”
Page 103, translation by Yoshito S. Hakeda
The particular “sutra” that the author is talking about is unclear. Hakeda and other scholars seem really quick to dismiss this section as a later addition, or influenced by the Pure Land Buddhist community, since it’s not found in the Three Pure Land sutras, but I would argue that it is either quoted from, or related to an earlier Pure Land sutra called the Pratyutpanna Sutra. Note this quotation here:
In the same way, Bhadrapāla, bodhisattvas, whether they are ascetics or wearers of white (i.e., laypeople), having learned of the buddha field of Amitābha in the western quarter, should call to mind the buddha in that quarter. They should not break the precepts and call him to mind singlemindedly, either for one day and one night, or for seven days and seven nights. After seven days they will see Amitābha Buddha. If they do not see him while in the waking state, then they will see him in a dream.
Translation by Paul Harrison, courtesy of BDK America
But I digress.2
If you think of The Awakening of Faith as a kind of Mahayana training manual, you’d probably be right. It’s meant to distill the vast corpus of teachings into a more bite-sized treatise that covers all the important bases without getting bogged down in sectarian debates. It’s not difficult to read, but does get a little cerebral at times. Still, it was a pretty impressive effort for the day, when Buddhism was still being introduced in China, and people wanted sought to find a way to make the teachings accessible and easy to understand.
It’s influence on later East Asian Buddhism cannot be understated. It provided an important foundation for later schools such as Tian-tai (Tendai in Japan), and subsequent schools that arose from it: Zen, Pure Land, etc.
English translations are hard to find, but if you manage to find a copy of The Awakening of Faith, and are interested to understand what Mahayana Buddhism is all about, definitely pick it up.
2 It’s quite possible that Professor Hakeda is correct in that it’s a later addition. Ph.D’s aren’t for show: the dude has a lot of background and training in the subject, so he knows a lot. I just think that because the Pratyutpanna Sutra was already popular in China by the time that The Awakening of Faith was composed, it might not be a later addition. But as the kids say, that’s just my “head canon”. 😁
Also noteworthy is no mention of the verbal nembutsu in the above quote. The verbal nembutsu as a practice was popularized centuries later by Shan-dao. Therefore, if it was added to The Awakening of Faith as an afterthought, it was probably something very contemporary.
For months, I’ve had on my to-do list to go and fix up the Wikipedia article about the nembutsu (or nian-fo in Chinese). I had started contributing to that article way back in 2006 shortly after I first got interested in Pure Land Buddhism, and occasionally update or add details. The article was flagged for some quality control issues recently, and I decided to help clean it up.
Some of my early contributions in Wikipedia way back in the day… can’t believe it’s been 18 years.
As I began to write some updates to the article, though, and trying to distill what the nembutsu is within the Pure Land tradition, I realized that this is a really tough question. There’s centuries of interpretations, layers of culture, and divergent viewpoints. I tried to summarize this in an older article, but after reading over that article, I realized that I didn’t quite hit the mark there either.
So, let’s try this again.
Pure Land Buddhism is a large, broad, organic tradition within Mahayana Buddhism (an even bigger tradition). It is not centrally-organized, but follows many trends and traditions across many places and time periods. However, these traditions all have a couple things in common:
Reverence toward the Buddha of Infinite Light (a.k.a. Amitabha Buddha, Amida, Emituofo, etc.). The nature of who or what Amitabha Buddha is is open to interpretation though.
Aspiration to be reborn (as in one’s next life) in the Pure Land of Amitabha Buddha. There have been many ways to interpret what exactly this means, but I am sticking to the most simple, literal interpretation for now.
In any case, these two things are what make the “Cult of Amitabha” what it is. By “cult” I mean the more traditional, academic definition, not the modern, negative definition. Amitabha is to Mahayana Buddhism, what the Virgin Mary is to Catholicism.
Every Pure Land tradition across Buddhist history is mostly focused on #2: how to get to the Pure Land. The early Pure Land Sutras spend much time describing how great Amitabha Buddha is, and how getting to the Pure Land is so beneficial towards one’s practice, but differ somewhat on how get reborn there.
One early sutra, the Pratyutpanna Sutra is one of the first to mention Amitabha and the Pure Land at all, but it very strongly emphasizes a meditative approach, in order to achieve a kind of samadhi. According to Charles B Jones, being reborn in the Pure Land wasn’t even mentioned in this sutra, nor Amitabha’s origin story. It was a purely meditate text. Nonetheless, this sutra was highly favored by the early Chinese Pure Land Buddhists, namely the White Lotus Society started in the 5th century by Lushan Huiyuan.
The main textual source for being reborn in the Pure Land is from the Immeasurable Life Sutra, also called the Larger [Sukhavati Vyuha] Sutra. This is where we see the famous 48 vows of the Buddha, including the most important, the 18th vow (highlights added):
設我得佛。十方衆生至心信樂。欲生我國乃至十念。若不生者不取正覺。唯除五逆誹謗正法
(18) If, when I attain Buddhahood, sentient beings in the lands of the ten quarters who sincerely and joyfully entrust themselves to me, desire to be born in my land, and call my Name, even ten times, should not be born there, may I not attain perfect Enlightenment. Excluded, however, are those who commit the five gravest offences and abuse the right Dharma.
translation by Rev. Hisao Inagaki
This is where things get interesting, in my opinion.
The Chinese character 念 (niàn) was used to translate the Buddhist-Sanskrit term Buddhānusmṛti or “recollection of the Buddha”. But, according to Jones, the Chinese character 念 had multiple nuances in Chinese:
And in fact each one of these interpretations can be applied to the nembutsu (Chinese niànfó) because it means niàn (念) of the Buddha (fó, 佛).
But which is it: concentration, a moment of recollection, or verbal recitation?
Most of the early Chinese Buddhist teachers like Tanluan, Daochuo and Shandao all promoted a mix: usually visualization was the superior method, but verbal recitation was a fallback for people who couldn’t dedicate themselves to visualization-meditation and ritual. The earliest Buddhist teachers mostly emphasized the visualization-meditation approach, but by Shandao’s time (7th century) the verbal recitation was deemed the most effective method.
Later, in Japan, the monk Genshin (not to be confused with the game…) summarizes these various methods in his 10th century work, the Ojoyoshu. It was a high quality work and even praised by Chinese monks when it was sent over as part of Japan’s diplomatic missions. But Genshin came to the same basic conclusion: the nembutsu can be any one of the three.
Finally we get to Buddhist teachers like Honen (12th century), who taught that the verbal recitation was the only viable choice. Honen praised past methods, but his target audience was a mostly illiterate population, as well as monks whose monastic institutions had largely declined into corruption and empty ritual. So, for such people, better to rely on Amitabha Buddha’s compassion and recite the verbal nembutsu wholeheartedly.
Multi-lingual sign at the temple of Chion-in in Kyoto, Japan where Honen’s mausoleum rests.
This approach isn’t that different from the Chinese approach which varied by teacher or patriarch but through Shandao’s influence had a parallel development. Some teachers emphasized the efficacy of simply reciting the nembutsu (much like Honen), others added the importance of concentration while reciting the nembutsu.
However, turning back to the Larger Sutra, let’s go back to the 48 vows. The 19th and 20th vows state:
(19) If, when I attain Buddhahood, sentient beings in the lands of the ten quarters, who awaken aspiration for Enlightenment, do various meritorious deeds and sincerely desire to be born in my land, should not, at their death, see me appear before them surrounded by a multitude of sages, may I not attain perfect Enlightenment.
(20) If, when I attain Buddhahood, sentient beings in the lands of the ten quarters who, having heard my Name, concentrate their thoughts on my land, plant roots of virtue, and sincerely transfer their merits towards my land with a desire to be born there, should not eventually fulfill their aspiration, may I not attain perfect Enlightenment.
So, taken together, the 18-20th vows cover the various interpretations of 念 we discussed above. All of them are included in Amitabha’s vows to bring across anyone who desires to be reborn there. The common theme is sincerity (至心 zhì xīn). If you look at the original Chinese text, all three include “sincerity”.
Further, when asked about how many times one should recite the nembutsu, Honen replied:1
“….believe that you can attain ojo [往生, rebirth in the Pure Land] by one repetition [of the nembutsu], and yet go on practicing it your whole life long.”
So, let’s get down to business: what is the nembutsu / niànfó ?
Based on the evidence above, I believe that the nembutsu is any of these Buddhist practices described above, taken under a sincere aspiration to be reborn in the Pure Land. It’s about bending one’s efforts and aspirations toward the Pure Land.
If you are calculating how to be reborn, or if your heart’s not 100% into it, then it may be a waste of effort.
Instead, if you feel unsure, study the Buddhist doctrines, get to know the Pure Land sutras, read about past teachers and if you feel fired up about, recite the nembutsu, or do whatever moves you. You will just know when. The more you put into it, the more you get out of it too.
Amitabha’s light shines upon all beings, like moonlight, and if you feel inspired by it, just know that you’re already halfway to the Pure Land.
Namu Amida Butsu
1 The site is long gone, sadly, but the Wayback Machine has an archive of the site. The updated Japanese-only site is here.
Another dharani I was reading about lately is the Great Compassion Dharani, also known as the Nīlakaṇṭha Dhāraṇī, or in Japanese Buddhism the daihishin darani (大悲心陀羅尼), also known more simply as the daihishu (大悲咒), among other names.
According to Wikipedia, this is one of widely recited dharani across the Buddhist tradition, and has undergone various changes over time, with a couple extant (though corrupted) versions. The featured photo above is an example found in the Dunhuang caves of China, showing the original text in Siddham script, with Chinese transliteration:
Fragment of the Nilaṇṭhanāmahṛdaya dhāraṇī both written in Siddhaṃ script and transliterated in Chinese characters. Bibliothèque nationale de France, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
You can see another example here, using both Siddham script, and the ancient Sogdian script:
Whereas the Dharani for the Prevention of Disaster (discussed in a previous post) is focused on practical matters, the Great Compassion Dharani is meant to be chanted in order to awaken goodwill towards others, using Kannon Bodhisattva as the archetype. It is taken from a longer Buddhist text, the Sutra on the Thousand-armed, Thousand-eyed Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara’s Sutra of Dharanis on the Vast, Perfect, and Unobstructed Mind of Great Compassion (千手千眼観世音菩薩広大円満無礙大悲心陀羅尼経).
This dharani is most closely associated the Zen traditions, but because it is pretty long, it’s probably not always practical for lay followers to recite in daily services. I have not seen it listed in service books for lay followers in either Soto Zen or Rinzai Zen. In any case, I am posting it here as a reference.
You can see an example of the Great Compassion Dharani being chanted in a formal Soto Zen service here:
There is a nice Chinese-language version here (starts at 1:07):
I have posted the dharani here in multiple languages, so that people can choose which version they prefer to recite. The main source was Wikipedia, but for the Chinese Pinyin, I had to check multiple websites as the pinyin varied slightly in some places, while for the Japanese version, I checked line by line in the video above.
Side note, there is a different version in the Japanese Shingon-Buddhist tradition, but I am too lazy to post here, since the dharani is so long. You can find it here on the Japanese Wikipedia article under “真言宗の読み方”.
June 2025: Major rewrite of this page to make the text side-by-side, but also fixed several typos.
1 Sources used to validate the pinyin: here and here, plus Wikipedia article. Each one slightly disagreed with one another, and my Chinese language skills are very limited, so I had to make a best guess in a few cases where things seemingly contradicted. It’s also possible that certain Chinese characters just have multiple pronunciations.
2 For some reason, the Soto Zen version doesn’t have the words 那摩婆薩哆 (nama vastya / ná mó pó sà duō).
3 Similarly, the Soto Zen version doesn’t have the final “om” (唵, ān) in it.
This is another reference post. I noticed that one of my most popular posts is the entry on a Buddhist chant called the Mantra of Light, and there’s multiple ways to read and recite it depending on what language you choose. Anyhow, it made me realize that there’s a big knowledge gap about Sanskrit in a specifically Buddhist context. There’s plenty of Sanskrit language resources out there, but they’re focused on Hinduism, and Hindu-related literature. Even the writing system used in language textbooks, Devanagari, tends to assume certain things.
Sanskrit is a language that’s used in a variety of contexts, and religious traditions, including Buddhism, especially Mahayana Buddhism.
As a language, it is way too big to cover in this blog, and I am just a novice, but I wanted to provide some real, fundamental basics of how Sanskrit works, with an emphasis on Buddhism.
What is Sanskrit?
Sanskrit is a very old language still widely used in some contexts. It is related to Greek and Latin, among other things, but mostly as a distant cousin. The Arya people who come into northwest India spoke it natively, and then as they took over north India, they imposed their language on people there.
Just as Latin eventually morphed into languages like Spanish, French, and Italian (among others), or influenced languages such as English, German or Russian, Sanskrit followed a similar trajectory. Languages descended from Sanskrit are called Prakrits. Prakrits were the colloquial forms of Sanskrit, each with regional differences, while Sanskrit remained the “high” language, increasingly relegated to things like religious ceremonies or literature.
Why Sanskrit and Buddhism?
The historical Buddha, Shakyamuni, did not use Sanskrit when teaching his disciples. His native language was probably Magadhi (still spoken today), but he often used Pāli when speaking to others since it was so widely known. Both Magadhi and Pāli are prakrits, descended from Sanskrit.
Since Pāli was such a popular language, it was how most early Buddhist sermons were memorized and passed down to future generations. Some Buddhist traditions, especially Theravada Buddhism, preserve these sermons using Pāli.
However, as Buddhism spread northward along the Silk Road, it was recorded in yet more prakrits such as Gandhari (Pakistan area), and such, not Pāli. By this point, there were Buddhist texts preserved in all sorts of local prakrits, not necessarily Pāli, and it probably became unmanageable.
The early Mahayana Buddhists started converting texts and teachings to Sanskrit instead. While Sanskrit wasn’t a common, spoken language, it was something that everyone more or less knew, just as medieval writers in Europe all knew at least some Latin. Thus as the layers of literature built up over time, and especially outside the core areas of India, it made more and more sense to just use Sanskrit for everything. Their Sanskrit wasn’t always “pure” Sanskrit, but it was good enough.
The featured image above is of the temple of Sensoji, better known as Asakusa Temple, in Tokyo, Japan. The central altar has the Sanskrit letter “sa” for satyam (truth) prominently displayed using Siddham script. Thus, even in a place like Japan, Sanskrit is still being used.
What Writing System Does Sanskrit Use?
This is a surprisingly hard question to answer. Unlike some languages, like Greek or Chinese, it had no fixed writing system. Every knew at least some Sanskrit, but everyone wrote it down in their own way. The Pillars of Ashoka used the Brahmi script to convey Buddhist teachings to the masses, while Buddhist texts on the Silk Road were often recorded in Karoshthi, and Buddhist mantras were recorded in Siddham.
So, what writing system should Sanskrit be written in? Whatever conveys it best to the reader.
For the purposes of this blog article, we’ll stick with the Roman Alphabet, with extended diacritics. For Buddhists, there is no benefit to using modern Devanagari, since early Buddhists didn’t even use it, and it’s just an extra layer to learn. Just don’t bother. The Roman Alphabet is sufficient for Western audiences.
Sanskrit Alphabet
The Sanskrit alphabet (regardless of what script you use) is broader than English because each sound has its own letter (sometimes two), and thanks to the grammarian Pāṇini, it’s all carefully organized in a sensible system.
Many of these sounds exist in English, but do not have their own letter to distinguish them; we just pronounce them automatically. Some sounds definitely do not exist in English and require extra care.
We can’t cover all these letters in detail here, especially pronunciation. There are some excellent pronunciation guides like the video series below. While it’s a Hare Krishna channel, not a Buddhist one, the explanations are excellent and clear.
A notes worth calling out here though:
ḥ – this is like a “breathy” h-sound that shows up at the end of certain words.
ṃ – although it looks like an “m”, it sounds more like an “ng” sound as in running. In the Buddhist tradition of praising the three treasures, the phrase Buddhaṃ Saranaṃ Gacchāmi, it is pronounced like “boo-dang” not “boo-dam”.
Sanskrit distinguishes between letters like k and kh, g and gh, d and dh and so on. These are separate letters in Sanskrit. Letters with an “h” are pronounced with a puff of air. Think of the English word redhead. That’s a fairly close analogy to “dh”. Similarly, egghead, for “gh”, dickhead for “kh” and so on. Not very civilized, but it works. 😆. Thus, Buddha, can be broken down to letters bu-d-dh-a, where “dh” sounds like redhead.
Side note: the ph in Sanskrit is not an “f” sound. This confused me a lot when I looked at works like “phalam” (fruit). It’s a breathier “p” sound.
ś and ṣ are both like the English sound “sh”. A common example in Buddhism is the word Śastra, which is a kind of important treatise. This is pronounced like “shastra”, not “sastra”. I am not 100% sure how ś and ṣ differ, but for practical purposes they’re more or less the same.
ñ – Just like Spanish in words like El Niño.
The letters ṭ, ṭh, ḍ, ḍh and ṇ (the ones with a dot beneath them) are extra difficult to pronounce for English speakers since we don’t really have “retroflex” sounds (sounds where the tongue touches the roof of the mouth). Thankfully these don’t come up too often in Buddhist Sanskrit.
r – a nice rolled “r” sound like in Spanish, Latin, etc, not the American “r” sound.
v – This one is confusing, but the “v” is actually pronounced like a “w” sound. The aforementioned “Bodhisattva” is correctly pronounced like “Bodhisattwa”.
This not a complete summary, but will hopefully address some pitfalls. Let’s look at vowels too.
Vowels in Sanskrit are fairly straightforward, but with a few caveats worth noting:
Sanskrit vowels are distinguished by “short” and “long” sounds. As with the consonants, each one has its own letter to distinguish it, unlike English “o” which can be pronounced multiple ways. The video series I linked above shows vowel pronunciations as well. Just remembere that long and short vowels might look similar in the Roman alphabet, but they are distinct letters.
a is the default sound that’s used when there is no other vowel explicitly used. It sounds like “uh” as in “duh” not as in “father”; that’s the letter ā instead.
Sanskrit has a vowel ṛ that doesn’t really exist in English. Imagine the English word “rip”, remove the ending “p” and roll the “r”. That’s ṛ. Even the Sanskirt word for Sanskrit, saṃskṛta, uses ṛ instead of an i. Usually in English people transliterate this as “ri” instead of “ṛ”, but be aware that this is its own vowel. Also note that r is a consonant, and ṛ is a vowel. They are not the same.
The au sound is like English “ow”, not “aw”. Imagine hitting your head on the door-frame. That’s “au”.
The ai sound like the same as “yipe!”. Imagine touching a hot pan. That’s the “ai!” sound.
A Note on Pronunciation
The reality is is that, like Latin, there are few, if any native speakers today. Many people in India, and even abroad, learn Sanskrit (and for good reason), but each person colors their Sanskrit pronunciation with their own native language. That’s ok. It’s normal. So, nobody today pronounces it perfectly.
That said, even knowing a few basics rules, like the ones I highlighted above, will go a long way to really appreciating how beautiful Sanskrit is, and when reciting Buddhist mantras or prayers, it really brings them to life. Give it a try!
But also don’t worry: the Sanskrit Police will not arrest you if you make a mistake.
Sandhi Rules
Every language has at least some rules where sounds blend together or change sightly to make things smoother. Some languages have more rules than others. Sanskrit has a lot. These are called “Sandhi” rules (the grammatical term “sandhi” even comes from Sanskrit). While Sandhi rules for Sanskrit are a huge pain to learn, they are super important for making sense of Sanskrit, including Buddhist Sanskrit. Why? Let’s look at an example below.
buddhāya – Buddha, but with a dative-case ending: to the Buddha. We’ll get to conjugation soon.
Glomming words together like this is common in Sanskrit, and the Sandhi rules help “glue” them together. Of particular note is the final aḥ in the first word, followed by a vowel. According to Sandhi rules (very handy chart here), aḥ + vowel sound changes to o. So, namaḥ + amitābha becomes namo‘mitābha. The apostrophe is a visual tool to help with readability.
For Avalokiteśvara, the famous bodhisattva, if we were to praise them, the same Sandhi rule would apply: namo‘valokiteśvara.
On the other hand, if we were to praise Śariputra, the Buddha’s important monastic disciple, then according to Sandhi rules aḥ + ś would not actually change and simply be namaḥ śariputra written as two words.
Similarly, if a bunch of Buddhas (buddhāḥ) were going somewhere (gacchanti), the Sandhi rules would simply drop the ḥ: buddhāgacchanti
Anyhow, these are pretty basic examples, but Sandhi rules get complicated, and memorizing the entire Sandhi chart isn’t necessary for most people. The important thing to understand is that when two words abut one another, the final sound of the first word, and initial sound of the second often blend together to make pronunciation smoother. Further, Sanskrit often strings multiple words together in written form.
Conjugation
If you ever dealt with noun declensions in classic languages like Latin and Greek, guess what? Sanskrit has them too. Since they are distant cousins, this isn’t really all that surprising.
Modern languages have comparatively fewer conjugations because over the centuries languages become smoother and more streamlined. Modern Indian languages based off Sanskrit such as Hindi, Gujarati, and Bengali are relatively simple to learn, while Romance languages like Spanish, French and Italian are streamlined versions of Latin. In the same way, modern Greek is a simpler, more streamlined version of classic Koine Greek, which itself was a simpler, more standardized form of ancient dialects such as Homeric Greek.
Older Indo-European languages often had complicated conjugation and inflection systems, and since Sanskrit is among the oldest, it’s inflection system is quite complex.
Like every language, Sanskrit has to describe who does what to whom, and with what. Languages like English usually use prepositions like “to”, “from”, “with”, etc. Japanese and Korean uses particles. Sanskrit, Latin, and Greek use inflected endings. For example, let’s look at the word Buddha:
buddhaḥ , usually just written as buddha – this is the nominative form (e.g. “the Buddha”).
buddham, this is the accusative form (e.g. a verb does something to the Buddha)
buddhāya – this is the dative form meaning “to” or “for” someone. Or for indirect objects. (e.g. we give a direct object to the Buddha)
buddheṇa, this is the instrumental form (e.g. “with the Buddha”)
buddhe, this is the locative form (e.g. “on the Buddha”)
buddhāt, this is the ablative form (e.g. “away from the Buddha”)
And so on. You can convey a lot with inflection in just one word, but the drawback is that the rules are complicated to learn.
Further, Sanskrit divides nouns into the following declensions:
Masculine nouns with “a” endings – Buddhaḥ, bodhisattva, nṛpaḥ (king), etc.
Neuter nouns with “a” endings, satyam (truth), vanam (forest), śāstram (a Buddhist treatise)
Feminine nouns with “ā” endings – adityā (sun)
Feminine nouns with “ī” endings – bhikṣunī (a buddhist nun), nadī (river)
Masculine, neuter, and feminine “u” endings – bhikṣhu (a buddhist monk), Vasubandhu (the famous monk), dhenu (cow)
Nouns with “ṛ” endings – pitṛ (father), mātṛ (mother)
In short, it’s a lot. There are 12 different categories of noun declensions (Latin had 5, iirc, or slightly more if you count things like masculine first declension, etc).
Note that “grammatical gender” is not always the same as the actual gender of an object. It’s just how nouns are organized. The word for sun is “feminine”, but moon is “masculine”. There’s usually no logic to which gender a word fits, it is just what category it happens to fit.
Conclusion
Knowing Sanskrit is not required to be a devout Buddhist. Buddhism doesn’t really rely on the notion of a “holy language”, so Sanskrit is just as good as Pāli, which is just as good as Classical Chinese (a frequently underrated language), which is just as good as Korean, Japanese, English, French, Ukrainian, etc.
But Mahayana Buddhism does owe much to Sanskrit due to how the tradition grew and then consolidated along the Silk Road before coming to China. Thus, knowing even a little bit of Sanskrit is a really nice way to connect with the past, and appreciate what we’ve inherited thus far.
This page is pretty unpolished, and probably has a few errors, but I hope you find it useful.
Namo’mitābhabuddhāya
Edit: Somehow my blog app kept re-posting an old draft, making publishing difficult. This should all be cleaned up now, and other typos have been corrected as well.
While writing a recent blog post, I realized that I had mentioned, but never explained, what the Three Pure Land Sutras are in the Buddhist tradition, and their significance to Mahayana Buddhism as a whole.
Think of this as a handy reference post. I haven’t done one of these in a while. 😊
The Buddhist Canon
When you think of most world religions, they are usually based on one or two books. Christianity has the Bible (including both Old and New Testaments), Islam has the Qur’an plus Hadiths, and so on. Things get fuzzier with religions like Hinduism and Buddhism where they are not based on one or two books, but instead layers of texts written at different periods of time. Such religions have a kind of “accumulated” religious tradition.
As an organized religion, Buddhism begins and ends with the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni. His birth name is Siddhartha Gautama, but in the Buddhist tradition he is called “Shakyamuni”, or “Sage of the Shakya clan”.
Long story short, all Buddhist texts, called “sutras”, are considered sermons of Shakyamuni Buddha, passed down through the generations, first by word, and later written down. Modern historians question the historicity of this, since the very earliest sutras were recorded around 100 BC, 400 years after the Buddha lived. Also some sutras, especially those in the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, were definitely later compositions since they have a more narrative flow quite different from earlier ones.
Why did the early Mahayana Buddhist compose a new set of sutras? My personal guess is that these authors took fragments of early teachings and repackaged them in a more “hip” (relative to the times) and smoother format for easier distribution.
In any case, Buddhism doesn’t have a strict dependency on the sutras the way other religions might. The Dharma, the teachings of the Buddha, is more like the Laws of Physics: something all around us whether we believe it or not. Shakyamuni Buddha’s contribution was to both uncover the Dharma and articulate it. So, the sutras, as purported sermons of the Buddha, are our best guide to understanding the Dharma, but they have their limits.
Sutra Format
Buddhist sutras can be volumes long, or extremely short, very specific to a topic, or kind of general in their teachings. Many were composed in India to address specific audiences, while others were composed in China, but made to look like they were from India for authenticity. As the featured photo above shows, many sutras are preserved in Classical Chinese (not modern Chinese) instead of Sanskrit, despite originating from India. The sutra book above is from a Japanese temple, so each Chinese character includes pronunciation guides (furigana) for Japanese audiences.
Finally, because there are so many sutras, many Buddhist traditions tend to gravitate toward one sutra or set of sutras for their theological foundation. This is especially true in Mahayana Buddhism.
Mahayana Buddhism teaches the notion of “expedient means” (lit. Upaya in Sanskrit): this means that any and all of these sutras are suitable to someone somewhere for progressing along the Buddhist path. “Different strokes for different folks”.1 Mahayana Buddhism is (speaking frankly) broad and messy, but it also strives to be as accessible as possible to a variety of people since one of its founding tenets is that all beings are capable of enlightenment. They just each start from different circumstances.
Sutras of the Pure Land Tradition
The Pure Land Buddhist tradition is probably one of the largest, if not the largest in East Asian Buddhism, but it’s not a single sect or school. It is a loose network of traditions across several countries, from Tibet to Japan, all centered around three key sutras and devotion to Amitabha Buddha, the Buddha of Infinite Light. Professor Charles B Jones compared it to the tradition in Catholicism venerating the Virgin Mary within the larger Christian tradition: some Christians do, some do not. In the same way, some Buddhists are devoted to the Buddha of Infinite Light, and some are not.
In any case, across all Pure Land traditions, the primary textual sources are called the Three Pure Land Sutras. In short, they are:
English Title
Sanskrit Title
Chinese with pinyin
Likely Country of Origin
Immeasurable Life Sutra
Sukhāvatīvyūha Sūtra, longer version
佛說無量壽經 (Fó shuō wú liàng shòu jīng)
India, before 2nd century
Amitabha Sutra
Sukhāvatīvyūha Sūtra, shorter version
佛說阿彌陀經 (Fó shuō Ā mí tuó jīng)
India, before 4th century
Contemplation Sutra
Amitāyurdhyāna Sūtra
佛說觀無量壽佛經 (Fó shuō guān wú liàng shòu fó jīng)
China, possibly 4th century
Note that many other sutras mention or focus on Amitabha Buddha too, but the three above are the primary sources.
Let’s look at each one individually…
The Immeasurable Life Sutra
This sutra, known more formally as The Sutra of the Buddha of Immeasurable Life, is the oldest and longest of the three. In English, it would probably take about 2 hours to read, so it’s not short, but not a tome like the Lotus Sutra either.
The general format is (in order):
A long preamble about the progress of a Bodhisattva to full Buddhahood (patterned from Shakyamuni’s life)
The origin of Amitabha Buddha, and his 48 vows to help all beings
The virtues of Amitabha Buddha, and benefits of those who encounter his light
Why someone would want to be reborn in his Pure Land, and the three grades of people reborn there
Contrasting this world with the Pure Land (spoiler: our world sucks)
General Buddhist exposition about the hassles of this life (again, trying to emphasize the Pure Land)
Admonition by Shakyamuni Buddha to be reborn there
What’s interesting about the Immeasurable Life Sutra is that it’s a fairly good primer, covering many general Buddhist subjects, from a Mahayana-Buddhist perspective, while also explaining in detail who Amitabha Buddha is, and why the Pure Land is a worthwhile goal.
Sometimes I still find little hidden gems in there when I read it.
Note, for ritual and chanting, the sutra is much too long to chant, so people often chant key sections, for example the Shiseige in Japanese-Buddhist traditions. The featured photo above is part of the Immeasurable Life Sutra.
The Amitabha Sutra
The Amitabha Sutra, known by the more clunky name Shorter Sukhāvatīvyūha Sūtra, is by far the shortest and simplest of the three Pure Land sutras. It is not quite as short as the Heart Sutra (it takes about 10 minutes to recite/chant compared to the Heart Sutra which takes 1-2 minutes), but it is often chanted as a whole.
The Amitabha Sutra condenses many things about the Immeasurable Life Sutra into a much simpler and shorter narrative, mostly describing the wonder of the Pure Land of Amitabha Buddha. and why one would want to be reborn there:
The land is very beautiful and safe, with nothing to fear. It reflects Amitabha Buddha’s goodwill toward all beings.
The land is very conducive to Buddhist practice since everything there relates to Buddhism somehow, even the birds singing, or the wind blowing.
You will be in the presence of a great many teachers, Bodhisattvas, and even the Buddha Amitabha himself.
From there, the sutra lists many, many Buddhas who attest to the Pure Land, and reiterate that it’s worth being reborn there.
Finally the sutra states that one can be reborn there by simply being mindful of the Buddha.
The Contemplation Sutra
The Contemplation Sutra, also known as the The Sutra on the Contemplation of the Buddha of Immeasurable Life, is the newest sutra, and believed to have been composed in China, not India. It is the most “visual” of the three sutras since it describes a long, complex meditation exercise one can do to be reborn in the Pure Land of Amitabha Buddha. The sutra starts with a story about the Buddha (Shakyamuni) helping Queen Vaidehi who is in prison due to her son’s treachery. She wants to escape this world of misery, and so the Buddha teaches her the following visualization exercises, which are meant to be done in order:
Oneself being reborn in the Pure Land in a lotus bud
Visualizing the Buddha Amitabha in a specific way, leading beings to the Pure Land
Rebirth in the Pure Land for those of superior grade
Rebirth in the Pure Land for those of middle grade
Rebirth in the Pure Land for those of lower grade
Because the visualization exercises listed in the sutra are so detailed, they have often been depicted in Buddhist artwork such as the Taima Mandala.
Significance
Of course the Three Pure Land Sutras are important to the Pure Land tradition, but they are also influential in other Buddhist traditions, and also in Buddhist art and culture in the medieval period. Even today in various communities, people relive the origin story of Amitabha Buddha in chanting and liturgy, and art related to the Pure Land still persist in such things as video games and other media. It has greatly influenced East Asian Buddhism and continues to influence Buddhism at large.
I like the Immeasurable Life Sutra in particular, and every once in a while like to read through it again. I suppose it’s my “go to” sutra.
Namu Amida Butsu
1 This is does not mean an “anything goes” approach to Buddhism, of course. Stories of “crazy wisdom” and other such things are exaggerated and rarely practiced in Buddhism. Instead, teachings such as the The Four Dharma Seals provide a theological “anchor”, as well as the Buddhist tradition. Not everyone may like the idea of following a religion tradition, but as with any long tradition, it has the benefit of collective experience across generations, so long as we are not overly bound to it.
Although I have happily taken up with a local Soto Zen group in my area, one of the first challenges I’ve noticed is that the group is probably 99% white, and have little or no knowledge of Japanese culture or language, despite the tradition they’ve inherited. This came into stark view when one the teachers, a very nice elderly man, proudly showed some Zen calligraphy that his teacher had composed for him. I could read it, but when I explained how it’s read in Japanese, he simply gave me a confused look.
Further, another peculiarity is that we almost always recite Buddhist liturgy in English. Hearing the Four Bodhisattva Vows chanted in English frankly feels a bit odd to me, though I have gotten used to it. Teachers also frequently mispronounce basic Japanese-Buddhist terms, which is a bit grating for a language student myself.
But then I started thinking about it: am I right to criticize the lack of grounded tradition, or am I just being a Japan-snob? Am I just nit-picking a bunch of minor things while ignoring the positives?
First, I admit I am a giant Buddhist-Japan nerd. I’ve devoted a significant chunk of my life to these two subjects, written more than one blog about it over the span of 15 years, read countless books and updated more than a few articles on Wikipedia. So, my perception of things may be rather skewed. It’s like one of those snobs in a sushi restaurant who insists that “it tasted better in Tokyo”. That’s me sometimes. I have to occasionally stop and remind myself “dude, you’re a huge nerd”.
Further, the Buddha in his own time, taught his disciples in the vernacular languages of the time (Pāli being a kind of lingua franca back then) and encouraged his disciples to continue teaching in whatever local languages were suitable. There was no “holy language” or “liturgical language” in the early Buddhist community. In fact the Buddhist teachings weren’t preserved in Sanskrit, by this point a literary language in India, until centuries later.
So, reciting Buddhist liturgy such as the Heart Sutra or the Four Bodhisattvas in English, even when it sounds a bit clunky, is both practical for disciples in the US, and less intimidating for new students. Expecting students especially new students, to know what Sino-Japanese (Classical Chinese preserved with Japanese pronunciation) is is admittedly unrealistic.
I suppose this is like liturgical language in Christianity. A pious person might wish to read the words of Jesus in the Bible in the original Koine Greek. A lot of Christians wouldn’t necessarily devote the time to do this, but they still go on to be pious, god-fearing Christians. Different people express their faith in different ways.
In the same way, I consider myself a pious Buddhist, so for me, studying and reciting the sutras as they are best preserved, in Classical Chinese, makes sense. Maybe it’s not for other people though. So, when you think about it, who am I judge other Buddhists based on their grasp of other languages?
Still, in spite of all this, the one thing that continues to bother me is the lack of appreciation for, and shallow understanding of, the tradition that we white Buddhists have inherited. When I read Xuanzang’s lament about the state of Buddhism in China at the time in the 8th century, and the need to go all the way India to bring more teachings and knowledge, I empathize with this.
Buddhist immigrant communities here have maintained a continuous, unbroken tradition from the beginning, passing from generation to generation, in spite of discrimination and challenges adapting to a new culture. By contrast, a lot of start-up Buddhist communities in the US feel somehow half-baked: people trying to imitate “how things are done in Asia”, but there are just some things that can’t be transmitted through books sold at Barnes and Noble. Sometimes those “cultural accretions” that white Buddhists gripe about in their quest for “pristine Buddhism” exist for perfectly good reasons, and enrich the tradition, not detract from it. The problem is when white Buddhists don’t understand something and just write it off as unnecessary. I used to do this too when I first met my wife, now I see things pretty differently.
I was prompted to write about this after an acquaintance told me recently that they used to go to the same community “for the meditation”, and had since moved on to transcendental meditation. That was disappointing thing to hear, and makes me question her motives in the first place. It’s frustrating to hear things like this.
Then again, when I am in Japan and I visit a famous historical site, knowing the history of it, and the dramatic events that happened there, and yet others shrug it off, it frustrates me too. So, sometimes I really think this is just a bunch of snobbery and all in my head.
However, setting aside my self-centered and selfish feelings on the subject, I do think that’s important to keep sharing information, translating things as best as I can, and bridging the cultural gaps. If Buddhism continues to prosper in the West, and beyond, then things will look very different from now, and hopefully more mature (not to mention diverse) too. The little seeds we plant now can have big effects for others we will never see.
P.S. The second chapter of the Lotus Sutra has a verse related to this:
[Even] If persons with confused and distracted minds should enter a memorial tower and [only] once exclaim, “Hail to the Buddha!” Then all have attained the Buddha way.
A while back, I wrote a small post on how to express Sanskrit and Pali using diacritics in HTML and the Roman alphabet. This is handy for expressing Buddhist terms accurately, since the standard 26 letters of the English alphabet don’t always tell the whole story.
Coin of Agathokles, king of Bactria (ca. 200–145 BC). British Museum. Personal photograph 2006, courtesy of Wikipedia. The coin shows inscriptions in Greek. Upper left: ΒΑΣΙΛΕΩΣ. Upper down: ΑΓΑΘΟΚΛΕΟΥΣ. The coin also shows a Buddhist lion and Lakshmi. Note the Brahmi script on the obverse, too.
While exploring Sanskrit writing systems recently, I dabbled in using HTML to express the ancient Brahmi script, which was used to write Sanskrit a long time ago, including some Buddhist scriptures, and the writings of Emperor Asoka.
Brahmi script is available through Unicode, like many other obscure symbols. The key is to know how to type a Unicode letter in browser:
& # x(number) ;
The numerical table for each Brahmi script letter is found here and on Wikipedia. The code for “ka” (क in modern Devanagari script) is 11013, so in HTML, it would be & # x 11013 ; without any spaces. This produces 𑀓. So far so good.
But Brahmi, like other similar scripts, is an abugida. The vowels don’t usually stand alone as separate letters. Instead, they modify the base consonant. This is true with modern Devanagari as it is with Brahmi. So, in the example above, “ki” would be “ka” but modified with an “i” extension: कि in Devanagari, or 𑀓𑀺 in Brahmi. For Brahmi, I put & # x 11013 ; without any spaces, then & # x 1103a ; the code for the “i” vowel extension.
One other thing we need to cover is the consonants without a vowel. For example, in the word Buddha (buddho in Pāli language) , it would be split up into three letters “bu” “d” and “dha” with an “o” extension. The “d” here normally needs vowel, by default “a”, but if you add a virama mark, then instead of “da”, it gets cut off as “d”. In the Brahmi script, this is a & # x 11046 ; which looks like 𑀓𑁆 (k), a small line above the letter. Using the example of Buddha above, this would be 𑀩𑀼𑀤𑁆𑀥𑁄 or letters “bu” “d with virama” and “dho”.
As a bonus, the nembutsu in Sanskrit, in its simplest form, is namo’mitābhāya1 which in Brahmi script might be:
𑀦𑀫𑁄𑀫𑀺𑀝𑀸𑀪𑀸𑀬
Typing each letter by its Unicode HTML number is not a quick and easy process, but if you do it enough, it becomes somewhat easier. Soon, you’ll be typing like Emperor Ashoka in no time. 𑁍2
P.S. If you prefer to type in Devanagari, by the way, the simplest approach is to simply use the Hindi keyboard setting if you have one. You won’t need to type each Unicode letter. 😉
1 This may be a Chinese phrase rendered back into Sanskrit, not the other way around, but it does appear in the extant version of the Larger Sutra of Immeasurable Life, and something called the Dhāraṇīsaṅgraha, a collection of Buddhist dhanaris.
Recently, I’ve been delving into both the Sanskrit and Pali languages, both used for Buddhist religious scripture, and just when I thought I had things figured out, I realize the situation is even more complicated and fascinating than I thought.
Fragmentary Kharosthi Buddhist text on birchbark (Part of a group of early manuscripts from Gandhara), first half of 1st century CE. Collection of the British Library, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
Sanskrit is a language that was brought to India by invaders who called themselves the Arya (“the noble”), but had origins in what is now Iran. They came to India sometime after 2000 BCE and settled across northern India and surrounding areas, subjugating the native population, and bringing their religious values with them. From there, we see very early religious inscriptions such as the Rig Veda, composed in very old Sanskrit (e.g. “Vedic Sanskrit”).
But, gradually, Sanskrit and what was spoken informally “on the ground”, diverged. This diverged by regional variances, social classes, etc. They could probably understand each other’s regional dialects the same way that Americans can understand Australian English, and Australians understand American English, or Scottish English, etc, and all of them differ from “textbook English” also known as Standard English.
One might also draw an example from Latin. Classical Latin, such as the writings of Cicero, differed from “vulgar Latin” such as that spoken in the provinces. Further, vulgar Latin as spoken by the Celts in Gaul probably differed from vulgar Latin spoken by Berbers in north Africa or Egypt. Even Cicero’s spoken Latin probably differed than his writings.
Such regional dialects or variances of the original Sanskrit included:
Magadhi – A language spoken in the kingdom of Magadha, and quite likely the Buddha’s native language. It is spoken today in India as well, but like Ancient Greek has changed over time to its modern version.
Kosalan – A language spoken in the neighboring kingdom of Kosala, also mentioned in early Buddhist texts.
Arda-Magadhi – “Half-Magadhi”, a possible predecessor to Magadhi above, or at least closely related.
Paishachi – A popular, possibly literary-only language, though more research is needed.
Maharashtri – A language spoken more to the southwest of India and frequently used in poetry. Modern day Marathi and Konkani derive from it.
Gandhari – A prakrit spoken in north-west India, in the important region of Gandhara, and used in some Buddhist scriptures composed in the region, instead of Pāli. Examples of recoverd texts here.
Speaking of Pāli, what’s up with Pāli? The earliest Buddhist scriptures, or sutras, are recorded in Pāli language, but Pāli isn’t technically a Prakrit like those shown above. It seems to be a language that arose as a kind of lingua franca between Prakrits.1
It makes sense why early Buddhist sutras are recording in it then: rather than recording in each Prakrit for the benefit of local audiences, pick something that was generally understood, even if imperfectly.
Pāli may have arisen around the 3rd century BCE, two to three hundred years after the Buddha, so here’s a hypothetical (repeat: hypothetical) timeline:
The Buddha preached in his native language, Magadhi (assuming that’s what he spoke), probably around the 5th or 6th century BCE. It’s also possible he used other Prakrits as well depending on his audience, assuming they were mutually intelligible.
Disciples remembered his teachings, and per Buddhist tradition, recited them as beset as they could recollect after this death in the First Buddhist Council.
Per existing Indian tradition, the teachings were then passed down for centuries from teacher to students.
As Prakrits developed and diverged over time, it probably became harder to keep things consistent across Buddhist communities, and the communities relied on more. Since it was widely used anyway, this was probably a simple, practical move.
As Buddhist tradition changed from oral to written history, Pāli was the logical choice for some Buddhist schools, such as the Theravada. Other Buddhist school at the time stuck to local Prakrits (some of which became part of the Mahayana canon later), such as in the Gandhara region.
As Buddhism spread even further, and Pāli fell out of use in India, Sanskrit became the liturgical language of choice and Buddhist scriptures, notably in the Mahayana tradition were shoe-horned into Sanskrit in successive waves. Given the rise of Hindu religion, which relied on Sanskrit for scripture, Buddhist communities may have felt the need to “keep up”.
Anyhow, this is speculation, but seems to fit what I’ve learned so far, and shows a fascinating evolution where Sanskrit sets the foundation, but dialects flourish until a new lingua franca is needed (namely, Pāli), until things sort of come full-circle and return to Sanskrit again, at least for the Mahayana tradition.
However, a couple points should be emphasized:
The Buddha probably didn’t preach in Pāli language. We may never know exactly what the language was, but it is likely a local prakrit, or more than one.
Prakrit languages are neither Sanskrit nor Pāli, but possibly developed in this order (more research needed): Sanskrit at time of migration into India -> Prakrits -> Pāli -> Classical Sanskrit
Thanks for reading!
1 Speaking of “prakrit”, there is not a universally agreed upon standard as to which languages at the time are prakrits, and which ones aren’t. In some broader definitions, Pāli language is considered another prakrit. As an amateur, I have no opinion one way or another.
Recently, I made a lengthy rant on Twitter about my frustrations with learning Sanskrit in order to read Buddhist texts. The issue is a surprisingly complicated one, and something I wanted to explore here a bit more.
When you look at religions of the world, Buddhism is somewhat unusual in that it is not rooted in a single, sacred text. No Bible, No Quran, etc. Buddhism has many sacred texts, or sutras, all purportedly the words of the Buddha. These teachings where then passed down by his disciples, yet nothing was actually written down until centuries later. This is not as bad as it sounds. By the Buddha’s time, India already had developed a sophisticated tradition around memorizing sacred texts and teaching them disciples. Non-Buddhist examples include the Vedas (the forerunners to the Hindu religion). People believed at the time that writing sacred teachings down would put them on the same level as mundane receipts and political documents, and was thus considered profane.
Attitudes changed by 1st century CE, but by now those sermons of the Buddha that had been carefully passed down were scattered in various collections, and different Buddhist schools had slightly different collections from one another. Worse, the languages used to transmit the teachings had diverged.
Which Language?
The Buddha, in his time, warned against using the priestly Sanskrit language to transmit his teachings, preferring instead local dialects, but even at that time, India had many, many dialects. Pāli was a very popular one, and remains so for some Buddhist traditions, but as Buddhism grew, keeping track of Buddhist sermons via local dialects probably became less and less practical.
Thus, in the end, Buddhist texts began to be recorded in Sanskrit. Every educated person in India probably knew at least some Sanskrit, just like educated medieval Europeans knew at least some Latin or Greek.
This conversion to Sanskrit wasn’t an overnight swap, however. Research into “Buddhist Hybrid Sanskrit” shows that the transformation was a gradual one: Buddhists would first write things down in a way that looked “Sanskrit-ey” (but not actual Sanskrit), then later generations would write something down that actually used Sanskrit, but still peppered with local colloquialisms. Eventually, even later texts were composed in “true Sanskrit”, at least something that Pāṇini would hopefully approve of.
So, what we see is a kind of gradual spectrum from early texts being composed in local dialects (primarily Pāli) and then gradually transforming into Sanskrit.
The difference, by the way, between Pāli and Sanskrit isn’t as dramatic as it sounds by the way. Pāli, like many Prakrits, was a local languages that derived from Sanskrit, and still had much in common with it. Just like Italian, Spanish, French, etc., all derived from Latin in some way.
To illustrate this, let’s look at a basic word like “king”. In Sanskrit, it is rājaḥ, and conjugates like so (not a complete chart):
Case
Singular
Dual
Plural (more than 2)
Nominative
rājaḥ (rājo)
rājau
rājāḥ
Accusative
rājam
rājau
rājān
Instrumental (e.g. “with” or “by means of”)
rājena
rājābhyām
rājaiḥ
Dative (e.g. “to” or “for”)
rājāya
rājābhyām
rājebhyaḥ
Note: due to Sandhi rules, rājaḥ frequently becomes rājo to smooth things out. Sanskrit also has Genitive, Ablative, Locative and Vocative cases too., but I’ve omitted them for brevity.
…and so on. Pali is a bit more streamlined by comparison being a more colloquial language by nature, so one word for king is rāja (i.e. without the visarga ḥ sound at the end):
Case
Singular
Plural
Nominative
rāja (rājo)
rājā
Accusative
rājaṃ
rāje
Instrumental (e.g. “with” or “by means of”)
rājena
rājebhi or rājehi
Dative (e.g. “to” or “for”)
rājāya or rājassa1
rājānaṃ
This form appears to be more commonly used according to this Pali textbook written by Ven. Nerada Thera
At first glance, Pali kind of reads like the kinder, gentler version of Sanskrit. The dual form is almost entirely non-existent,2 and the sounds are softer, and lacking the ḥ (visarga) at the end. However, you can see they share similar grammatical structures, pronunciation, etc.
So, the first challenge with Buddhist text is this gradual transition from local dialects to literary Sanskrit, spanning hundreds of years. If you picked a particular Buddhist sutra, it might be somewhere in the middle of this transition: is it Pali? is it Sanskrit? Sanskrit with Pali terms, or Pali with a Sanskrit “polish” to it?
How Is It Written?
The second issue is the written script.
Some languages are closely tied with their script: Greek language is written in the Greek alphabet (obviously), while Korean is written in Hangeul. Other writing systems are not: the Roman alphabet is used in many languages: English, French, Vietnamese, etc. In medieval times, Chinese characters were used by a wide variety of disparate languages: Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, Khitan, etc.
So, languages are not always tied to a particular writing system. Also. some writing systems are not tied to a particular language.
Sanskrit (and Pali) have been written down using a wide variety of scripts across the ages. Early writings were done using Brahmi script, and Brahmi itself evolved into newer and better writings systems over time leading to the most common example today: Devanagari.3 Many, many modern languages in India and beyond are written in some script derived from Brahmi.
This includes Buddhist texts, too!
Inscriptions by Emperor Ashoka might be written in old Brahmi script:
…while texts written in palm leaf might also be written in Sanskrit, but using a derivative script:
The Lotus Sutra written in Sanskrit in an early form of South Turkestan Brahmi script, courtesy of Wikipedia.
You can see that while both are Buddhist (or Buddhist-historical) subjects, they are not necessarily written in the same script. Further examples include later Siddham script, often used in mantras and other esoteric practices by some schools:
The Heart Sutra as written in Siddham script, courtesy of Wikipedia
Then there’s other one-off, but important scripts like Karoshthi and so on.
This is not that unusual by the way when dealing with widely-used languages from antiquity, by the way. Although Greek was always written in the Greek alphabet, the style of writing could be vastly different depending on regional variations, such as those found on Egyptian papyrus vs. modern textbooks. Latin wasn’t always written in big block letters; it had its own cursive form that was more frequently used, and is pretty obtuse to modern Westerners without some training first.
Does Any Of This Matter?
For the average day-to-day practice of Buddhism? Nope.
Buddhism has always been at heart a religion of practice, not dogma. The Buddhist tripod of wisdom, conduct and practice (i.e. chanting, meditation, etc) has two “legs” which involve day to day action. Wisdom is important too but differs from dogma in that it’s not something you believe, but something you learn.
So, you could follow the Buddhist path perfectly fine if you focus on these things, and never bother with ancient languages, relying on acceptable translations instead. Studying the sutras is a helpful practice in Buddhism, but there are already plenty of good translations.
However, if you get into a more professional position either as a teacher, scholar, monk, nun, or priest, etc., knowing some command of Pali, Sanskrit, Classical Chinese, or Tibetan is really helpful. It won’t necessarily make you a better Buddhist, but may help you be a better teacher to others.
Back in 2019, I tried my hand at learning Sanskrit, with the intention of reading Buddhist texts natively, partly for fun, partly for curiosity, partly because I was frustrated by shoddy, overly sectarian translations. What I found is that modern Sanskrit courses and texts overwhelmingly focus on Hindu content, and insist on teaching Devanagari script, which makes sense, but neither of which is appropriate for the study of Buddhism.
Thus, my efforts to learn Sanskrit have languished for a long time.
These days, I would like to try again, but I believe that to effectively learn Sanskrit for the purposes of studying Buddhist texts, the following caveats might be helpful:
Learning Devanagari is not required. Buddhist texts are written in a wide variety of scripts but usually not Devanagari. There are some excellent resources for Buddhists texts preserved in Sanskrit, but using the Roman alphabet. This may sound weird, but as we discussed above, Sanskrit has never been tied to one writing system. One script is as good as another. Seriously.
Much of Buddhism’s corpus of sutras and sacred texts aren’t even “pure” Sanskrit anyway. Just as one might learn ancient Greek starting with Homeric Greek before moving onto Koine, the study of Buddhist texts may benefit by starting with Pāli and then migrating to Sanskrit as needed. Even learning a bit of Pāli might be a nice way to get back in touch with early Buddhism and as close to the Buddha’s words as we might ever get.
Alternatively, rather than trying to use a “one size fits all solution”, find a Buddhist text you are interested in, and determine how it was written, what language, etc, and start from there. Again, there are parallels to ancient Greek. The New Testament isn’t written the same way as Euripides, nor Hesiod. You have to accept that Buddhist texts are similarly written at different times by different people.
One thing I haven’t really talked about so far is Classical Chinese. Much of the Buddhist canon, now lost in India, is preserved in Chinese and epitomized in the Taisho Tripitaka formalized in Japan in the 1920’s. If you want to study ancient Buddhist texts, studying them in Classical Chinese might just be as useful, if not more useful, in some cases. The Heart Sutra, for example, was first written in Chinese and then back-ported into Sanskrit later when Xuan-zang journeyed to India.
Anyhow, this is one amateur’s look at the situation, something I’ve learned the hard way. Your mileage may vary, but if you wish to study ancient Buddhist texts, I hope this helps.
2 According to this textbook, only two words in Pāli have a dual form: dve or duve (two), and ubho (both).
3 Southern Indian languages also use scripts adapted from Brahmi, but through different evolutionary course, hence they look quite different than northern Indian languages.
Gleanings in Buddha-Fields 
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