Mahavira was once a young child who could cry and scream.
It hurt when his arm bones were broken, it hurt when his nasal bones were smashed by a punch, and it hurt when he was lifted high and slammed down hard; when a series of punches to the stomach made him vomit undigested food, tears would well up due to pain and irritation to the esophagus, making his agony especially evident.
It was painful and unfair.
But he forgot from which day it started... As if God had answered his prayers, he gradually lost "pain."
It wasn't that he lost the sense of pain and touch—it was that he began to disregard the pain he suffered.
Mahavira was still aware that his body was injured.
But no amount of pain could affect his actions or thoughts anymore.
He wouldn't even tremble from pain.
Even when his bones were twisted by his father to the point of creaking, he always remained silent, his pupils devoid of a single fluctuation. He was like a dim mirror, or a lifeless puppet.
