English Literature – Articles ☆ The Buddha, a Bodhi Tree, and the Blabbermouths ☆ Shri Jagat Singh Bisht ☆

Shri Jagat Singh Bisht

(Master Teacher: Happiness & Well-Being, Laughter Yoga Master Trainer, Author, Blogger, Educator, and Speaker.)

Authored six books on happiness: Cultivating Happiness, Nirvana – The Highest Happiness, Meditate Like the Buddha, Mission Happiness, A Flourishing Life, and The Little Book of Happiness. He served in a bank for thirty-five years and has been propagating happiness and well-being among people for the past twenty years. He is on a mission – Mission Happiness!

🌌 The Buddha, a Bodhi Tree, and the Blabbermouths 🌌

Let it never be said that the Buddha didn’t try.

Long before Twitter, WhatsApp forwards, and news anchors who mistake volume for truth, the Enlightened One sat calmly under his Bodhi tree and declared, with unnerving serenity: “Right Speech is the way, my friends.” It sounded innocent enough at the time. But had he lived today, I suspect even Siddhartha might have sighed, updated his privacy settings, and taken a sabbatical from humanity.

According to the Buddha (who, unlike us, actually thought before he spoke), Right Speech is divided into four noble parcels of verbal hygiene:

1. Don’t lie.
2. Don’t slander.
3. Don’t insult.
4. Don’t babble.

Yes, yes, I know—this immediately disqualifies most political campaigns, all panel discussions on television, and nearly every family WhatsApp group in the subcontinent. If everyone followed Right Speech, politicians would be mute, newsrooms would fall silent, and our beloved babas and gurus might have to resort to interpretive dance to make their point.

Imagine the tragedy.

The Buddha warned us, gently but firmly, that a lie—even told in jest, or whispered behind someone’s back during tea break—has the spiritual effect of turning your inner compass upside down. And a half-truth, mind you, fares no better. If a full lie is a crime, a half-truth is a cleverly disguised felony. “A Bodhisatta,” he said, “can break all vows but not the truth.” One suspects this is why Bodhisattas are so rare and Instagram influencers so plentiful.

Now, let us imagine—purely for educational purposes—what would happen if the Buddha delivered his sermon on Right Speech to Mr Donald Trump. There would be a long pause. A cough. Then perhaps an aide would whisper, “Mr President, Your Holiness says ‘no falsehoods’.” And the poor man, deprived of all conversational material, would have to resort to weather updates and cookie recipes.

Of course, he wouldn’t be alone. World leaders across the board would find themselves tongue-tied. Half the world’s spiritual discourses would dissolve into silence. Parliament sessions might last three minutes at most, with everyone just nodding and sipping tea, unsure what can be said without triggering a karmic catastrophe.

Because here’s the thing: Words are like arrows dipped in honey or poison, depending on how we use them. Speech, said the Buddha, can break lives, cause wars, and turn best friends into legal opponents. But it can also heal hearts, dissolve boundaries, and, on rare occasions, bring peace—assuming it isn’t immediately followed by a “but…”

The modern age, alas, has not helped our cause. Where once idle gossip was confined to village wells and park benches, we now have entire ecosystems dedicated to it. Social media is essentially a 24-hour buffet of slander, sarcasm, and spectacular nonsense—our collective conscience drowned in a sea of emojis and misinformation.

And still, we speak.

We forward messages we haven’t read, quote sources we haven’t checked, and argue passionately over topics we only understood ten minutes ago. The Buddha might have envisioned Nirvana, but I doubt even he imagined Facebook comment sections.

The tragedy is not just that we speak carelessly—it’s that we can. The capacity for speech was meant to distinguish us from beasts. Instead, it often distinguishes us from wisdom. And here’s the ultimate irony: The Buddha taught silence not to suppress, but to refine our speech—to make it meaningful, melodious, and merciful. “Let your words,” he said, “be like a cool breeze in the summer—soothing, lovely, and uplifting.” In today’s terms, think less breaking news, more late-night FM radio hosted by a monk.

So next time you’re tempted to toss out a sarcastic jibe, or forward that oh-so-delicious bit of gossip, pause. Take a breath. And ask yourself: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary? If not, maybe just sip your tea and smile.

The Buddha would approve.

Though Oscar Wilde might still wink and say, “Truth is rarely pure and never simple.”

And Mark Twain would add, “It’s better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubt.”

And I, dear reader, shall quietly log off—before I say something unwholesome.