by Vanamali
He now said, “O Rama, the time of your exile is drawing to a close, and your hard times in the forest will soon be over. May you be able to return with all glory and take up the reins of the kingdom once again.”
Rama replied, “O holy one, our life in the forest, far from being unpleasant, has actually been a very happy time for all of us. We have delighted in the freedom and informality of our life here, blessed by our contact with great sages such as you, and we’ve been charmed by the simplicity of life in the ashramas. But there is one thing I would like to request: Can you tell me a suitable place for us to stay for the remainder of our exile? It should be beautiful with a river and flowering shrubs, so that my wife will be happy, yet not crowded.”
Agastya said, “Rama, it is right indeed that you should always think of your wife’s happiness, for very few women would have been ready to forego their comfort and pleasures and venture into the forest with their husbands. Sita is indeed an exemplary wife and you should take great care of her. You have been brought into this forest in order to rid the place of the rakshasas—the night wanderers who have made it their home. There is a place not far from here called Panchavati. Fruits and roots are in abundance there. There is plenty of water and deer can be seen bounding among the plants. I am sure Sita will be delighted with that spot. You can make an ashrama there and live happily until it is time for your return. I would have asked you to remain with me until your exile is over but I can see that there are many things left for you to do, and these can be accomplished from Panchavati.”
Taking leave of the great sage, the trio followed his directions and soon came to the beautiful grove known as Panchavati. On the way they noticed an enormous eagle perched on the very tree that Agastya had given as a landmark. The bird was greatly excited at seeing them and introduced himself as Jatayu. He said he had been a friend of Dasaratha, and that he had a brother called Sampati whom he had not seen for many years. Jatayu promised to live with them and guard them and give warning at the approach of rakshasas and wild animals. Rama was delighted to hear this and Jatayu showed them the way.
Panchavati was a wonderful place surrounded by mountain peaks and filled with fruit-laden trees and flowers. The sound of the river Godavari close by and the gurgle of a nearby stream were delightful to their ears. Rama chose a level spot close to the stream with five flowering trees—champaka, parijata, ashoka, kadamba, and sandal—and requested Lakshmana to build a small cottage for them.
Lakshmana first picked some flowers, offered them to the gods for protection, and requested leave to build on that terrain. Then he built a beautiful cottage of twigs, wattle, and grass roof and invited Rama and Sita to enter. They were utterly charmed. Lakshmana had made separate partitions for eating, sleeping, and puja. Everything looked fresh and beautiful with an eye to utility as well.
Rama laughingly asked him, “My child, where did you learn the art of construction? I can’t remember ever having learned anything like that from our tutors at the gurukula.”
Lakshmana answered, “When love fills the heart, there is no task that is onerous or difficult. The magic of love overcomes all difficulties and gives all knowledge.”
Rama’s eyes filled with tears as he embraced him, saying, “My dearest brother, how can I ever repay you for the loving service you have rendered me all these years? My life during this exile would have been unbearable but for your constant, vigilant care and attention.”
The three of them spent a long time in that beautiful spot. Sometimes Jatayu would join them and narrate tales of their father, and they would talk of their past life in the palace, which felt as if it had been a dream. Jatayu was always on guard against wild beasts and rakshasas and would shriek wildly if any beast of prey came within fifty yards.
Once, on a misty autumn morn, when the brothers were taking their bath in the Godavari, Lakshmana said, “I don’t know why, but today my mind is filled with thoughts of our dear brother, Bharata, who must also be taking his bath in the cold waters of the Sarayu and perhaps thinking of us. What a noble soul he is! Instead of enjoying the pleasures of palace life, he is living like a hermit in Nandigrama in order to show his love and respect for you. Poor thing, I fear he does not know the happiness that I enjoy, for he is denied the felicity of your company. How is it that such a noble soul was born in the womb of such a wicked woman as Kaikeyi?”
Rama’s eyes filled with tears as he replied, “My child, speak more to me about our glorious brother, Bharata, but do not let me hear you speak ill of our mother. After all she was only a tool of fate. I, too, cannot erase the memory of Bharata’s tear-filled eyes as he pleaded with me to return with him. I can still see him placing my footwear on his head and going back to the city with tears streaming from his eyes. How can I forget that scene? Very often it haunts me in the night. I fear that I am fated to bring unhappiness to those I love.” These were indeed prophetic words that Rama spoke.
Thus the three of them spent many blissful days at Panchavati doing their allotted tasks, offering daily prayers, and enjoying the beauty of nature. Sita spent the happiest years of her life here. She roamed through the forest with Rama, clinging to his hand, while he picked flowers for her. She sat while he braided her hair with flowers, and they lay close to each other on the hilltops gazing at the stars.
One day when they were walking hand in hand, Rama lifted up his hand to show her something and inadvertently wiped off the vermilion mark on her forehead. He was most apologetic and searched for a red stone that he then crushed into powder, but after applying it with great care to her forehead, he playfully smeared the rest of the powder on her cheek. Sometimes if a stream was deep, he carried her across in his arms and when they reached the other bank, she refused to get down. Then he would pretend to throw her into the sky and she would laugh and nestle closer to him. She was in a blissful dream all the time and Rama, too, found great happiness in the beauty of nature, as well as the beauty of his charming bride and the companionship of his brother. Little did they realize that the time was inexorably approaching for the purpose of his avatara to be fulfilled and the reason for his exile to be completed.
Vasishta says:
“The world creation is not the action of ignorance but the action of intelligence.
But then the question arises,
Why will an intelligent being indulge in such futile actions?
Hence it is clear that the world is an appearance and not an existence.”
Hari Aum Tat Sat
Kharadwamsine Namaha!
CANTO III
The Night Rangers
Shyamabhiramam! Nayanabhiramam!
Gunabhiramam vachanabhiramam!
Vishwapranamam krithabhakthakamam!
Sri Ramachandram sathatham namami!
I bow to Sri Ramachandra,
Who has beautiful dark coloring and lovely eyes,
Who is full of wonderful qualities and speaks sweetly,
To whom the entire universe bows,
and who fulfills the desires of his devotees.
One day when the three companions had finished their small chores, completed puja, and eaten their simple meal, they sat outside under the shade of a beautiful champaka tree. Rama and Sita were sitting close together and he was teasing her about her fear of a small bear they had seen when they’d gone to bathe that morning. Lakshmana was sitting a little way off whittling a piece of wood he had picked up from the river. At that time a rakshasi called Shurpanekha, sister of the demon king Ravana, happened to be passing by and spied the two extraordinarily handsome men. She was fascinated by the beauty and virility of Rama’s body. Though he wore the matted locks of a sage, he had the stature of a Kshatriya and the nobility of a king. She gazed and gazed at him with delight, hardly able to tear her eyes away from him, even though he did not notice her and seemed to be engrossed in talking to the woman beside him. Shurpanekha decided that this was the man for her. The rakshasas were a race of cannibals and their morals were also qui
te heterodox. What they desired, they took, regardless of the consequences and the rightness of such behavior. It did not even cross her mind that he might find her unattractive.
She was enormous, with flaming red hair and small, cruel eyes. She had mottled yellow horny skin like a toad, a belly like a cauldron with a protruding navel, flapping elephant ears, and talons on her fingers and toes. Having just killed and eaten a rabbit, she had blood dripping from her fangs. Throwing away the leg of the rabbit she had been gnawing, she approached Rama, determined to have him and not caring that he was sitting with a woman who might well have been his wife. She went toward him with her elephantine gait and spoke in a harsh and raucous voice.
“Who are you, O handsome one? You are dressed as a rishi yet your looks belie your appearance. Moreover you have weapons at your side. How did you happen to come here?”
Rama replied politely, “I am Rama, son of King Dasaratha. That is my brother Lakshmana sitting there, and this is my wife Sita, princess of Videha. Now tell me who you are and what I can do for you.”
She replied, “I am a rakshasi called Shurpanekha and I am the sister of Ravana. I happened to be passing by and saw you and fell in love with you. You are a fitting mate for me. This puny little creature beside you is certainly not fit for you. I will gobble her up in a trice and your brother too, and we will roam happily in this beautiful forest.”
Saying this, she stood before him with arms akimbo, drawing herself up to her full height so that she towered like a mountain above them. Sita shuddered and crept closer to her husband. He put his arm reassuringly around his wife and laughed. He really could not believe that this woman was actually soliciting him in broad daylight in front of his wife and brother. He was sure it was a joke.
Laughingly he said, “My dear lady, I am quite honored by your offer but you must understand that I am a married man. Moreover, puny though she is, I happen to love my wife very much, even though it might surprise you. Sharing a man with another woman will not appeal to one such as you, I am sure. Look over there at my younger brother, who is fair and handsome and does not have his wife with him. Why not approach him?” Shurpanekha thought this over and decided that he spoke the truth, so she approached Lakshmana and requested him in the same way to be her husband.
Lakshmana was also amused by her and decided to keep up the joke. He replied, “My dear lady, I am only a servant of Rama. How can a princess like you be happy with a servant? You say that you can change your form at will. Why not take a beauteous form and press your suit with Rama with increased vigor? I am sure he can be persuaded to leave his ill-favored wife and marry a beautiful woman like you.”
Shurpanekha was not accustomed to this style of humor. She returned to Rama and said, “I see that you are not interested in me only because this ugly woman is sitting beside you. I’ll gobble her up in a trice and thus you can be rid of her and we will be able to consort without any fear of this creature.”
With this ultimatum she turned her eyes, like burning hot coals, on the trembling Sita and rushed toward her. Sita screamed and clung to Rama. He stood up, put her behind him, and spoke to Lakshmana.
“It was wrong on our part to sport with such people. Look how frightened my Sita is. Please punish this woman and send her away, O Lakshmana. We will not kill her, since she is a woman, but we should teach her a lesson so that she will go away and leave us in peace. Otherwise she might come back when we are not here and harass poor Sita.”
Lakshmana immediately took his sword and sliced off the tip of Shurpanekha’s nose and ears. Roaring with rage and pain and swearing revenge, she ran off into the forest. The whole ground shook with the weight of her steps and the birds flew off with shrill cries of fear. She ran to Janasthana, the rakshasa settlement where her cousin Khara lived, and poured out her whole story. Of course, she omitted mentioning that she was responsible in the first place for having invoked the wrath of the Kosala brothers.
Khara swore to take revenge and called fourteen of his best soldiers to go and make an end to the intruders who had dared to harm his sister. Shurpanekha led them to the ashrama. The three exiles were sitting discussing the extraordinary events of the day when the rakshasas arrived. Rama turned to Lakshmana and said, “It looks as if we are in for a bit of fighting. Guard Sita while I go and put an end to them.”
So saying, he went toward them and killed them in no time, as he had promised to do. Shurpanekha could not believe her eyes. She had never seen human beings who could stand up to even one rakshasa, let alone fourteen. She ran back and stood howling like a jackal before Khara.
“What’s upsetting you now?” he inquired. “I sent my men as I promised and by now they must have devoured Rama.”
Shurpanekha said scornfully, “You are a disgrace to your race. I think you are frightened to go and face them yourself. Your men are all lying in a lake of blood, killed by Rama, single-handedly.”
Khara was amazed by this and ordered his commander Dhushana to lead fourteen thousand warriors to fight with this man. The army poured out of the fortress, fully armed in order to kill two puny humans.
Far away in the ashrama, Rama saw many omens and heard the roaring sound like a tidal wave of the approaching army.
He told Lakshmana, “I am afraid I’ll have to deny you the chance to use your weapons, brother, but I think it is better for you to take your weapons and go to that cave with Sita. I dare not leave her alone, even for a minute, or that woman could come and devour her while we are both engaged in fighting. So please do as I tell you.”
Lakshmana reluctantly took Sita and left his brother to fight alone. When Rama saw that they were safely inside the cave, he strung his bow and prepared for battle. He twanged the string of his bow and challenged the rakshasas. Khara drove his chariot right up to where Rama stood ready for battle and launched hundreds of arrows and tridents, sickles, axes, and many different types of weapons at him, while the rest of the army did the same. Rama stood like a rock, unmoved by the onslaught. Though hurt in many places, he fought on calmly, ably resisting the attack. The dexterity with which he handled his bow evoked the admiration of even his enemies. His arrows, charged with mantras, were so painful that the first onslaught of rakshasas turned tail and ran, screaming with pain. Again and again Khara sent his warriors, only to have them be decimated by Rama’s deadly arrows. At last only a few remained to tell the tale. He began to feel really worried when he saw that his brave commander, Dhushana, had been killed. Then he sent Thrishiras, another great general, who managed to wound Rama on the forehead. Rama admired his prowess but was forced to kill him in the end. At last Khara began to fear that he also would be killed and advanced toward Rama in his chariot.
Rama, who was fighting from the ground, broke the demon’s chariot and said, “No one who has been perpetrating such cruel deeds as you has a right to live. How many innocent rishis have you killed? This is your last day, O Khara! Prepare to die.”
Khara rushed at him with mace upraised and flung it at him, but Rama splintered it into a thousand piece with his arrows. Next Khara uprooted a huge tree and flung it at Rama; he warded it off easily. Blind with rage, Khara rushed toward Rama, determined to throttle him with his bare fists. Rama invoked the power of Indra into his arrow and sent it hurtling at Khara. It entered his chest and he fell dead. Seeing their leader fall, the rest of the rakshasa army, including Shurpanekha, fled in terror. Sita’s peaceful, beautiful garden was totally devastated and strewn with arms, legs, and heads, blood and bones.
Lakshmana now returned with Sita and congratulated his brother. Sita rushed toward Rama and embraced him. She was so happy to see him alive. Tenderly she wiped droplets of blood from his face and body with her upper garment. Her voice was choked with emotion and she could not speak a word. Though proud of her husband’s prowess in combating so many rakshasas single-handedly, she had some foreboding that this was not the end of the affair and that their peaceful days were over.
Hari Aum Tat Sat
Dhushana-Trishiro-Hantre Namaha!
CANTO IV
The Demon King
Samsarasaram, nigamapracharam!
Dharmavataram Hrithabhumibharam!
Sadanirvikaram Sukhasindusaram!
Sri Ramachandram sathatham namami!
I bow to Sri Ramachandra, the essence of the world,
Who is extolled in the Vedas,
Who is dharma incarnate, born to decrease the load of the Earth.
Who is the immutable, ocean of goodness.
The only one who managed to escape from the fray at Janasthana was a rakshasa called Akampana. Seeing that it was a lost cause, he had hidden himself behind a tree and watched all his friends falling. At last he returned post haste to Ravana’s capital on the island of Lanka and reported the whole matter. The rakshasa king could not believe his best commanders had been killed and his entire army wiped out by one single individual.
Ravana glared at him and roared, “Who is the foolish person who has dared to meddle with my outpost at Janasthana? It is obvious that his end is near. Even Indra, king of gods, is afraid of me; so also Kubera, god of wealth; and Yama, god of death. I spell death to death himself, and my wrath can consume even Agni, the god of fire. Name the person who has dared to defy me.”
Akampana shivered with fear and stammered, “My lord, it was a man who did it.”
“A man! A human being! I cannot believe it. I have not heard any report of an army marching to Janasthana, so how can this have happened?”
“There was no army, your majesty. It was one single individual who routed the entire army and his name is Rama. He is the son of King Dasaratha of the clan of Ikshvaku, the ruler of Ayodhya. He and his wife and brother have been exiled and are now living in the forest at Panchavati. He is dark and handsome and strong as a lion. He is an amazing archer and he single-handedly decimated the entire army.”