So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. Now at that time the wanderer Poṭṭhapāda was residing together with three hundred wanderers in Mallikā’s single-halled monastery for philosophical debates, hedged by pale-moon ebony trees. Then the Buddha robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, entered Sāvatthī for alms.

Then it occurred to him, “It’s too early to wander for alms in Sāvatthī. Why don’t I go to Mallikā’s monastery to visit the wanderer Poṭṭhapāda?” So that’s what he did.

Now at that time, Poṭṭhapāda was sitting together with a large assembly of wanderers making an uproar, a colossal racket. They engaged in all kinds of low talk, such as talk about kings, bandits, and chief ministers; talk about armies, threats, and wars; talk about food, drink, clothes, and beds; talk about garlands and fragrances; talk about family, vehicles, villages, towns, cities, and countries; talk about women and heroes; talk at the street market and the place for water pots; talk about the departed; motley talk; tales of land and sea; and talk about being reborn in this or that place.