Valmiki Ramayana

  ‘King of the monkeys, you help even those who do nothing for you. You must help the one who has helped you regain your kingdom and your wealth. You are strong and powerful and can do what will please Rāma. Why do you delay? Rāma can subdue the gods, the asuras and the uragas with his arrows, but he looks to you and your promise to help him with his task. He helped you at the risk of his life. Let us begin searching the earth and the heavens for Sītā. Not the gods nor the gandharvas, the asuras, yakṣas or the troops of māruts hold any fear for Rāma, what then is a mere rākṣasa? King of the monkeys, we would go anywhere, to the forests, waters or the sky, at your command! There are hundreds of thousands of monkeys, strong and powerful, who will do anything you ask!’

  Now that he had been reminded of his duty at the appropriate time, the virtuous Sugrīva made a decision. He summoned Nīla and instructed him to call in all the monkeys from all directions. ‘Tell the army commanders and their forces to assemble here immediately. Call in even the swift and brave monkeys who guard the borders of the kingdom. See to it personally that my orders are carried out. Any monkey who is not here within fifteen days shall be punished with death, let there be no doubt about this!’ Once he had given these instructions, Sugrīva retired to the inner apartments again.

  Meanwhile, Rāma had lived through the rainy season and was now tormented with grief. He gazed in anguish at the clear sky and the white orb of the moon. On those autumn nights bathed in moonlight, he thought about Sugrīva who had attained his ends and about Sītā’s absence. He saw that the time he and Sugrīva had agreed upon had passed. But he controlled his anger and, sitting on top of that mountain streaked with metallic ores, his thoughts turned to Sītā.

  ‘Ah! My beloved! Her voice was as sweet as a bird’s! How can she rejoice in birdsong now as she used to in our forest hut? How can she enjoy these golden flowering bushes like she used to when I was by her side? How must she feel now when she hears birds calling to their mates? I feel no joy in wandering through the woods with their streams and pools without doe-eyed Sītā by my side!’ cried Rāma, lord of all men, lamenting like the cātaka bird begging the gods for water.

  Lakṣmaṇa came home from a pleasant walk on the hillside to collect fruit and found Rāma in this state. Seeing that his brother was consumed by grief and was sitting despondent in a lonely place, valiant Lakṣmaṇa said, ‘Why have you succumbed to the pain of separation and longing and allowed your manly spirit to be sapped? You must be firm and resolute and not fritter away your energies. If you are going to achieve your purpose, you must be active, you must concentrate your mind. Display your courage and utilize the strengths of your allies. Sītā cannot be so easily snatched away when she has you as a protector. How can one touch a flame and not be burned?’

  Rāma listened carefully to Lakṣmaṇa’s sympathetic words that were just, filled with dharma and intended for his benefit. ‘Certainly, we must get on with our mission in such a way that we ensure its success,’ he said. ‘But should we also not think about the reward that awaits us at the end?’ And Rāma’s thoughts turned back to the lotus-eyed Sītā. Scorched by grief, he continued, ‘The god of the rains has gratified the earth with water and now that his task is done, he is at rest. The clouds have shed their load of water with pleasant rumblings and, exhausted, they sail lightly over the mountain tops. The storm winds which were filled with rain and, laden with the scent of flowers, pushed the clouds along, have died down, their task complete.

  ‘All of a sudden, thunder clouds, waterfalls, elephants and peacocks have fallen silent. Mountain peaks have been washed clean by the great clouds and now they seem painted in bright colours and shine like rays of moonlight. The autumn streams slowly reveal their sandbanks like a modest woman revealing her breasts during her first experience of love.

  ‘This is the time, Lakṣmaṇa, when kings set out on expeditions against their enemies and those they want to conquer. This is the time when journeys begin. But I see no sign of Sugrīva or of our expedition! The four months of the rainy season have gone by but for me, tormented by grief, they have seemed like a hundred years! I live here, deprived of my wife and kingdom, but Sugrīva has no sympathy for me, Lakṣmaṇa! “Without his kingdom, with no protection, harassed by Rāvaṇa, pathetic, lovelorn and far from home, he has come to me for refuge!” That is what the wicked king of the monkeys thinks of me. He regards me with contempt.

  ‘Sugrīva knows the time has come to begin the search for Sītā. But now that he has what he wants, he behaves irresponsibly! Go to Kiṣkindha and find that idiot king of the monkeys! Give him this message from me—“The lowest of all creatures is he who raises the hopes of those who come to him for help, those who have helped in the past and who are quite capable of enforcing what is due to them! The best of men stick to their word, whether it is given rightly or wrongly. Obviously, you want to see me draw my bow, decorated with gold, that flashes like lightning on the battlefield! You wish to hear again the thunderous resonance of my bowstring as I draw it back in anger!”

  ‘It is quite amazing that even though Sugrīva knows my skills and my power and knows that I have you by my side, he still does not seem to care. Absorbed in his pleasures, the king of the monkeys does not seem to have noticed that the season of the rains is over. Drunk all the time, he enjoys himself with his ministers and spares not a single thought for us here, tormented and miserable.

  ‘Go to Sugrīva and tell him how angry I am! Tell him, also, “The road that Vālī took is not yet closed! Stick to your commitment, Sugrīva, and do not follow Vālī down that path! I killed Vālī with a single arrow. I can also kill you and your entire family!” You know what is appropriate, Lakṣmaṇa! Tell him whatever else you like after you have assessed the situation, keeping in mind that the moment is passing!’

  Thirteen

  Lakṣmaṇa understood that his brother was depressed and miserable as well as angry. ‘The king of the monkeys is unrighteous! He does not realize that today he is reaping the fruits of his past actions. He will not enjoy this royal splendour for much longer and so he chooses to ignore our task. Like a fool, he immerses himself in pleasure and does not think about repaying your kindness. Such immoral creatures should not be given kingdoms! I cannot control my anger! I shall kill him and he can join his brother Vālī! Vālī’s son can go out with the best of monkeys and recover Sītā!’ said Lakṣmaṇa and he leapt up and grabbed his bow.

  ‘The best of men is the one who can control his anger,’ said Rāma calmly, choosing his words carefully. ‘Behaving like this is not worthy of you. Act in the spirit of our alliance. Do not be harsh. Speak sweetly and only remind Sugrīva that the time for beginning our enterprise is slipping away.’

  Lakṣmaṇa took his brother’s words to heart and entered the city. Wise Lakṣmaṇa, devoted to his brother’s well-wisher, being, controlled his anger and went towards the monkey’s palace. Tall as Mount Mahendra and looking like death, Lakṣmaṇa carried his mighty bow that rivalled Indra’s and gleamed like a mountain peak. As he walked along, he rehearsed in his mind what he would say to Sugrīva, what Sugrīva’s answer might be and what he would say in return.

  Filled with the fire of his brother’s anger, Lakṣmaṇa was not in a good mood as he strode towards the city like an approaching hurricane. His lips trembled with rage and soon, he saw immense monkeys outside Kiṣkindha. The monkeys noticed Lakṣmaṇa coming towards them and at once, those monkeys who were the size of elephants, armed themselves with boulders and trees. Lakṣmaṇa’s fury doubled, like a fire replenished with fuel, when the monkeys armed themselves. The monkeys saw that he was incensed, that he blazed like the doomsday fire, so they fled in their hundreds in all directions.

  They ran to Sugrīva’s palace and told him about the arrival of the enraged Lakṣmaṇa. But Sugrīva, totally absorbed in making love to Tārā, did not hear them. His ministers ordered a band of monkeys, as dark and immense as mountains, to go forth from the city to confront Lakṣ
maṇa. Fierce and cruel-looking, the monkeys had the valour of lions and they used their teeth and nails as weapons. But Lakṣmaṇa grew angrier still when he saw the monkeys guarding Kiṣkindha and when he thought of his brother’s frustrations and Sugrīva’s addiction to pleasure.

  Angada approached Lakṣmaṇa with some trepidation. ‘Tell Sugrīva that I have come, my child,’ roared Lakṣmaṇa, his eyes blazing. ‘Tell Sugrīva, “Rāma’s younger brother Lakṣmaṇa stands at your door, burning with grief at his brother’s suffering. Lakṣmaṇa, the subduer of his foes, has come to see you!”’ Angada ran to tell his uncle that Lakṣmaṇa had arrived.

  Meanwhile, the monkeys watched Lakṣmaṇa bearing down upon them like an angry flood. They raised a hue and cry in their terror which sounded like the rumbling of thunder. Their noise woke Sugrīva and he rose, his eyes red and rolling back in his head with drunkenness, his garlands dishevelled, his ornaments awry. Two of his ministers, who had heard Angada’s news, came with him, for they were intimate with Sugrīva and were allowed into the presence of his women.

  Plakṣa and Prabhava, Sugrīva’s advisors on artha and dharma, told him about Lakṣmaṇa. ‘Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa are righteous and honourable and they made an alliance with you. They are worthy of kingship themselves and they gave you a kingdom. One of them, Lakṣmaṇa, stands at your door, armed with his bow. The monkeys tremble and weep for fear of him. He has come here at Rāma’s command. Go with your son and your family and prostrate yourself at his feet. Calm his anger. Honour your promise and fulfil your commitment, O king!’

  Eloquent Sugrīva rose from his seat and presented the proposition to be considered before his wise and experienced ministers.

  ‘I have neither said nor done anything wrong. Why is Lakṣmaṇa so angry? My enemies are always looking to harm me and they must have carried tales of my imagined lapses to Lakṣmaṇa! Use all your wisdom and experience to try and understand what his behaviour indicates. I have nothing to fear from Rāma or Lakṣmaṇa, but when a friend is angry for no apparent reason, one tends to get confused and bewildered. Making friends at any time is easy, but maintaining a friendship is difficult. The heart is so fickle that even a trivial thing can ruin a friendship. That is what worries me, for I can never hope to repay Rāma for all that he has done for me!’

  After deliberating privately, Hanumān offered his conclusions in front of all the ministers. ‘No one is surprised that you recall Rāma’s affectionate favour to you, king of the monkeys! Heroic Rāma set aside all fear and killed Vālī, who was Indra’s equal, in order to make you happy. I am sure Rāma has sent his brother here in anger because of your agreement.

  ‘Though you are the foremost among those who know the right time to act, you have been otherwise engaged and seem not to have noticed that autumn has come. The time to begin our mission has arrived. It is clear that you have been rather careless. That is why Lakṣmaṇa has come here. Do not resent the harshness of Rāma’s message. He is in terrible pain because of the separation from his wife. You have made a mistake and I see no course of action other than appeasing Lakṣmaṇa with joined palms.

  ‘Ministers are appointed to give kings advice that will benefit them. So I have given you my opinion without fear of reprisal. Go to Lakṣmaṇa with your son and your family and bow your head before him. Honour your promise and fulfil your commitment, O king!’

  Following Rāma’s orders, Lakṣmaṇa, the destroyer of enemy heroes, entered the huge city of Kiṣkindha that was built into the side of a mountain. The enormous monkeys standing at the gates bowed to him respectfully, but when they saw that he was angry and breathing heavily, they were apprehensive and stayed away from him.

  Lakṣmaṇa looked around the city nestling in the valley with its jewel-studded buildings and flower-filled gardens. Full of elegant mansions and shops, Kiṣkindha overflowed with trees which flowered and fruited all through the year. The monkey citizens were the children of gods and gandharvas and they could change their forms at will. They were beautiful to behold in their fine clothes and celestial garlands. Kiṣkindha’s roads were perfumed with flowers and sandal-paste and the fragrance of natural liquors like mead and toddy wafted through the air. Lakṣmaṇa saw the homes of the great monkey chiefs and the wide thoroughfares that gleamed like white clouds. They were decorated with celestial flowers, filled with wealth and grain and adorned by women who shone like jewels.

  The king’s palace rivalled Indra’s. It was surrounded by sparkling white walls which were hard to breach. It had several white towers like the peaks of Mount Kailāsa. Its garden had trees gifted by Indra that gave any kind of fruit that you could wish for. They were covered with flowers and provided generous, soothing shade.

  Mighty Lakṣmaṇa entered Sugrīva’s palace uninvited, as the sun enters a huge cloud. He passed through seven courtyards before he came to the heavily guarded inner apartments which were filled with couches of gold and silver and seats covered with rich and beautiful brocades. Lakṣmaṇa could hear soft and melodious music as he walked in and he saw scores of women, all of them revelling in their youth and beauty. They sat there, adorned with rare flowers and exquisite jewels, weaving garlands. Lakṣmaṇa could not see a single retainer who was lazy, discontented or not fully adorned.

  Finally, he saw Sugrīva sitting on a golden couch covered by a priceless brocade, shining like the sun. Around him sat beautiful women adorned with flowers and jewels. In his fine clothes and celestial jewels and garlands of flowers, Sugrīva appeared like Indra himself as he sat with Rūmā in his arms. The golden monkey stared at indomitable Lakṣmaṇa with his large eyes.

  Sugrīva was terribly agitated when he realized that Lakṣmaṇa had entered the palace unhindered. He saw that Lakṣmaṇa was breathing heavily and was blazing with splendour, that he was clearly angry about his brother’s suffering. Sugrīva leapt up from his seat and his women rose with him, making him seem like the moon surrounded by stars in the sky. He stood trembling before Lakṣmaṇa, his eyes red and his palms joined.

  ‘A king gains renown in the world by being honourable, truthful, noble, self-controlled, compassionate and grateful to those who have helped him,’ said Lakṣmaṇa angrily. ‘There is no one more cruel and heartless than an unrighteous king who makes false promises to those who have helped him. He who does not fulfil his commitments after making use of his friends deserves to be killed by all creatures!

  ‘You are a base and ungrateful liar, monkey! You made use of Rāma’s skills and you have not repaid him! If you have any memory of what Rāma did for you, you should now be making efforts to find Sītā! You have indulged in all these vulgar pleasures and you have broken your promise. Rāma did not recognize you for what you are, a snake imitating a frog! Moved by pity, the great-souled Rāma secured the monkey kingdom for you, you wretched creature! If you can’t remember what blameless Rāma did, then, slain by these arrows, you shall soon meet Vālī! The road that Vālī took is not yet closed. Keep your promise, Sugrīva, and do not go the way of Vālī! You have obviously not seen the arrows which fly like thunderbolts from the bows of the Ikṣvāku heroes! That is why you indulge yourself and pay no attention to Rāma’s affairs!’

  ‘You should not say such things, Lakṣmaṇa,’ cautioned Tārā with her star-bright face. ‘The king of the monkeys does not deserve these harsh words, especially from you! Sugrīva is not deceitful. Nor is he cruel or ungrateful. He is neither dishonest nor a liar. He has not forgotten what Rāma did for him, which was something others would have found hard to accomplish on the battlefield.

  ‘It is thanks to Rāma that Sugrīva regained the ancient kingdom of the monkeys as well as Rūmā and me! Sugrīva has found himself amidst these pleasures after so many nights of deprivation and he has lost track of time, just as the sage Viśvāmitra did! When Viśvāmitra was infatuated with Ghṛtāci, didn’t he find that ten years had passed like a single day? If even a sage like Viśvāmitra, who understands and knows everything ab
out time, could lose track of its passing, what then of ordinary creatures like us? Rāma should forgive this obsession with sensual pleasures in someone who has been deprived for so long and who, despite these gratifications, is still not satisfied.

  ‘And you, my child, should not get angry like this, like a common man, without really knowing Sugrīva’s intentions. Resolute men like you should not succumb to such bursts of passion! You know dharma. I plead with you on Sugrīva’s behalf not to hold on to your indignation. Calm yourself. I know Sugrīva would give up everything, the kingdom, Rūmā and me, just to make Rāma happy!

  ‘Sugrīva will kill Rāvaṇa in battle and restore Sītā to Rāma. You know that there are thousands of rākṣasas in Lankā. Without killing those fearsome creatures who can change form at will, you cannot hope to kill Rāvaṇa. They cannot be killed without allies, Lakṣmaṇa. Especially Rāvaṇa, he cannot be killed without assistance.

  ‘Mighty monkeys have already been despatched to summon hundreds of monkey chiefs to fight in this war for your sake, Lakṣmaṇa. Sugrīva has not set forth himself because he is waiting for the arrival of these powerful and magnificent monkeys who will support Rāma’s cause. Sugrīva sent out these instructions long before you came and the monkeys should arrive here today. Get rid of your anger, subduer of enemies. Hundreds of thousands of monkeys and bears will join you today!’

  Lakṣmaṇa was gentle by nature and he accepted Tārā’s conciliatory words. When Sugrīva saw that he had been placated, he cast off his fear of Lakṣmaṇa as one would cast off wet clothes. He tore off his garland made of rare and beautiful flowers and ripped it apart as he shrugged off his intoxication.

  ‘Lakṣmaṇa, it was thanks to Rāma that I regained the ancient kingdom of the monkeys and this royal splendour,’ said Sugrīva humbly, his palms joined. ‘How can I ever hope to repay that god-like man for the great deed he performed? Rāma will kill Rāvaṇa and get Sītā back with his own powers, I shall only be a helper! How can anyone help the man who can pierce seven sāla trees with a single arrow? If I have transgressed the bounds of our friendship by presuming too much, then you must forgive me. Who is there that has never offended a friend?’