by Vanamali
“There is Ayodhya, city of my fathers and citadel of the kings of the Solar dynasty. There is the river Sarayu, which holds the land of Kosala in its embrace, and there is my dear brother Bharata, saluting me from below.”
The vehicle landed gently, and the brothers rushed toward each other. They had been parted for fourteen years, and the tender reunion brought tears to the eyes of the vanaras. Bharata took the sandals, which had been the virtual rulers of the state, placed them lovingly on his brother’s holy feet, and prostrated before him, saying, “I give you back the kingdom that was given to me for safekeeping. It was a great burden on me but I have guarded it carefully. Today my mother’s name has been cleared, and I have atoned for her sins. Please allow us to conduct the coronation that should have taken place fourteen years ago.”
Rama agreed and all the brothers shaved their matted locks, had a ceremonial bath, and dressed themselves in clothes befitting princes of the realm. Sita was dressed lovingly by Kausalya, Sumitra, and Kaikeyi. Kausalya also kindly dressed the hair of the wives of the vanaras, who were highly delighted by this royal treatment.
Sumantra brought the chariot and Rama and the others ascended and proceeded to the city. The citizens went mad with joy at seeing Rama. Sugriva was invited to reside in Rama’s palace, along with his wives. He sent his people to all the oceans and rivers to collect water in golden pots for the approaching coronation. The ministers appointed Vasishta to take charge of the coronation.
Vasishta made Rama sit on the jeweled throne of the Ikshvakus with Sita at his side. The great sages poured consecrated waters, brought in golden pots from all the sacred rivers and seas of the land, over Rama’s head, to the accompaniment of sacred Vedic chants. Shatrugna held the beautiful white umbrella over his head, while Sugriva and Vibhishana stood on either side and waved the royal yak-tail fans. There was joy and beauty everywhere. Rama gifted many cows and horses to deserving Brahmins. He gave Sugriva a golden necklace and decorated the strong arms of Angada with bracelets. He gave Sita the precious pearl necklace sent by Indra, as well as many other extraordinary gifts. He presented all the vanaras with many gifts. Only Hanuman was omitted. Turning to Sita he said, “Why don’t you give a gift to one who has all the qualities you think a great hero should have, such as fidelity, truth, skill, courtesy, foresight, and prowess, as well as a keen intellect. Look round and present your necklace to such a one.”
Sita took out the precious necklace of pearls Rama had given her, and without a moment’s hesitation, she gave it to Hanuman. He looked at it carefully, smelled it and bit it and scratched it, then threw it off as being a worthless gift. Sita was amazed at this monkeylike behavior on the part of one she loved so much and who had done so much for her. She asked him to explain this act of his and he replied, “To me the only thing worthy of respect is the name of Rama. If something does not have it, I feel it is worthless. I looked at the necklace to see if his name was written anywhere; then I smelled it, to see if his perfume was in it; and I bit it to see if it contained anything of his inside, but there was nothing. This is only an ordinary pearl necklace and of what use is such a thing to a monkey? My lady, I am, of course, proud that you have chosen me as a fitting recipient for the honor of receiving a gift from you, but please forgive me for not wearing it.”
The audience was astounded by this statement and asked him, “Hanuman! What about your own body, does it have anything of Rama?”
So Hanuman asked Sugriva to put his ear to his chest, and to his wonder Sugriva heard the continuous chanting of “Rama, Rama” in Hanuman’s heart. As if to put an end to all dispute, it is said that this great devotee of Rama split his chest open and to the astonishment of all, there was Rama enshrined within it. Rama embraced him warmly and placed his blessed hands on the wound, which healed miraculously at his touch.
The coronation was the glorious finale of the saga of Rama and Sita. There was no one in the whole of Ayodhya who had not been presented with some gift. Even the hunchback Manthara received a present. The whole day long the people and the monkeys ate and drank to their heart’s content. That night, for the first time in fourteen years, Lakshmana slept in the arms of his dear wife, Urmila.
After a stay of a month, Sugriva and the others returned to Kishkinda, and Vibhishana to Lanka. Hanuman, however, opted to stay on with Rama, for he could not bear to be parted from him. Rama offered the position of yuvraj, or crown prince, to Lakshmana, who refused the honor, so he crowned Bharata instead.
Ramarajya, or the rule of Rama, is famed throughout the entire world as a glorious time. There was no disease or unhappiness, and no one died an untimely death. Wild animals did not trouble the people, and there was plenty for all. The land flourished and the people were happy, for they worshipped Rama as god incarnate. There was no avarice or greed, for everyone had all that was desired.
Vasishta says:
“When the notion of the self is destroyed by withdrawing the fuel of ideas from the mind, That which is left is the Infinite. In it, knowledge, knower, and known exist as One.”
Hari Aum Tat Sat
Dharmakrite Namaha!
BOOK SEVEN
Uttara Kanda
The Aftermath: The Best Book
Satyavache Namaha!
CANTO I
Sita Abandoned
Rajendram sathyasandam Dasarathathanaym!
Shyamalam shanti moorthim!
Vande lokabhiramam Raghukula tilakam!
Raghavam Ravanarim!
Hail to Raghava, scion of the race of Raghu,
Enemy of Ravana, delight of the world,
King of kings, truth incarnate,
Son of Dasaratha, dark in color,
And peace loving.
It is in this book of the aftermath that the sage Valmiki recounts the whole previous history of Ravana, king of the rakshasas. It is also in this book that the painful episode of Rama’s repudiation of Sita is told. We may well wonder at the intentions of the sage in doing this. Maybe he wanted to compare the polar differences in the towering personalities of the two men who loved Sita so passionately. One, the lusty, powerful rakshasa Ravana, was willing to exterminate his entire race, his brothers, friends, and even his own sons in order to quench his thirst for another man’s wife. The other, the divine personality Rama, was prepared to sacrifice the one he loved most on the altar of the cosmic law of dharma, which proclaims that a king should put God first, his country next, and his personal desires last. Ravana perished with the rest of his tribe, whereas the land of Kosala flourished under the rule of its saintly king.
Thus did many years pass while Rama reigned with Sita by his side, helped by his beloved brothers and able ministers. There was an ashoka grove at their palace that was even more beautiful than the one in Lanka. Fragrant trees such as the champaka, kadamba, ashoka, and sandal were there, along with such fruit trees as mango and pomegranate. After completing his day’s work, Rama often strolled in these fragrant gardens with his adorable queen. One day while they were thus sitting in the garden and talking to each other, Rama noticed that his wife showed all signs of pregnancy. She was wearing a glistening red robe, and her skin glowed with an ethereal beauty. Rama was delighted and taking both her hands in his, he led her gently to an arbor in the grove and seated her tenderly on a jeweled seat. He offered her the nectar of many flowers, untouched by bees, in a golden goblet. With his own hands he raised the glass to her lips and made her sip the delightful concoction. He embraced his alluring wife with great love and asked her, “My darling one! I see that you are with child. This is the only thing that we lack in our lives. How radiant you look! I have no doubt that the child will be a wonderful infant. Tell me, my dearest love, how can I make you happier? Is there some wish of yours that is still to be fulfilled? Ask for anything and it shall be yours.”
Sita raised her lotus face to his and whispered, “My lord, I consider myself to be the luckiest woman alive. What further wish can your wife have, than to be beside you all
the time?”
But Rama insisted, “My lovely one, I want to make you even happier than you are now, if that is possible. Tell me something I can do for you. I am longing to shower you with everything, for it is said that a pregnant woman should have all her whims honored.”
Sita turned her beautiful eyes to him and said, “Do you remember the forest near Chitrakoota where we used to wander, hand in hand? Do you remember the sages and their wives and the peace of their hermitages? I have a great desire to visit them once again and eat the wild fruits and roots and drink the pure waters of the Ganga and perhaps even stay there for a day or two.”
Rama looked adoringly at his beloved wife. There was nothing he could deny her. If anything, his love for her had increased with the passing years. He had never felt the desire to take another consort, as other kings did; the very idea was abhorrent to him. Sita was the most charming woman he had ever known, and he desired none other.
Holding her hands in his, he looked deep into her eyes and said, “O Vaidehi, my beloved wife, you shall certainly go there if that is what you wish. In fact, I will send you there tomorrow.”
Having given his promise to the princess of Mithila, Rama left her and went to the outer courtyard to talk with his friends. In the course of their light banter, he turned to his friend Bhadra and asked, “Tell me, Bhadra, what do the people say about me and Sita and my brothers? Kings are always criticized by the common folk.”
Bhadra folded his palms and said, “Sire, people speak only good about you. Sometimes they discuss the events of past years, when you achieved the impossible by killing the demon king Ravana and rescuing the princess of Videha. Your exploits are recounted with great enthusiasm by everyone.”
“What else do they say, Bhadra? Tell me all. Why do you avert your face? Is there something that you feel should not be reported to me? Have no fear. I want to know the good and the bad. No king can afford to ignore what people say of him, so tell me.”
In a faltering, low tone, Bhadra said, “They also remark that though your action in having killed the rakshasa is to be applauded, your conduct with regard to your wife is shameful. ‘How could the king have accepted a woman who sat on Ravana’s lap and lived in his palace for so many months? How can the queen forget the indignities she must have suffered? We will have to put up with similar insults. Our wives will be able to go about as they please, and we will be forced to condone this. As the king, so the subjects!’ This is what the people say in their ignorance.”
Rama’s whole face changed when he heard this slanderous accusation against him and his immaculate wife. He could not speak a word. His friends tried to comfort him and said, “Your majesty, it is the nature of common people to speak ill of the nobility. A king need not heed such false accusations.”
Rama hardly heard what they were saying. Taking leave of them in his usual courteous manner, he went to the garden and sat immersed in thought. He decided it was his duty to check on this matter before coming to a decision. That evening he donned the clothes of an ordinary citizen of Ayodhya and went incognito on a tour of the city. As luck would have it, while passing the house of a washerman in one of the small streets of the city, he heard the sound of raised voices and went close to the house to hear what was being said. The husband was berating his wife. “I have heard reports of your indecent behavior. You have been seen talking to the nobleman who comes for a walk down this street. You may go back to your own home. I will not keep you here any longer. I belong to a respectable family and will not keep a loose woman as my wife. You are free to go where you please.”
The poor woman pleaded that she was totally innocent and had only answered some questions the man had put to her. The washerman replied sternly, “Do you think I am Rama to tolerate such behavior? He is the king and can do as he pleases, but I will never keep a wife who has been seen with another man.”
Rama stood riveted to the spot for a few seconds. He felt like a tree that had been struck by lightning. The tender buds and leaves of hope that had sprouted in his heart after their return from Lanka were scorched, and the naked, charred, and blackened branches raised their arms in mute appeal to the heavens. He felt as if his whole body were on fire. All the fresh green leaves had fallen off and only the stark, bare branches remained. He managed somehow to stagger back to the palace, and going to a private chamber, he requested his brothers to come to him at once. They came immediately and were surprised to see Rama’s demeanor. He stood with his back to the door, looking out on the wintry garden. His face was pale and his eyes had a glazed look as he turned to face his brothers. His hands trembled slightly.
Lakshmana knelt before him and said, “Brother, what is it? Tell me. Where is the enemy? You know that you have but to command and I shall obey.”
Rama spoke in a voice drained of all emotion, “Do you know what the citizens are saying about Sita and me?”
All of them hung their heads and Rama continued, “I see that all of you know and have hidden the truth from me all these years. O Lakshmana! You are witness to the fact that I refused to take her back after the war until her purity was proved in the ordeal by fire, yet these people now talk as if I had done a heinous act. My heart is breaking and I am drowning in sorrow, yet my duty as king is clear before me. The first duty of a king is to his subjects and not to himself. Sita is dearer to me than life itself, but I have no choice but to abandon her for the sake of my subjects. Lakshmana, take her away in the chariot with Sumantra and leave her on the other side of the Ganga near the Tamasa river, where we stayed a long time ago. Just this morning she requested that I take her there. Let her have her wish. She will suspect nothing.”
Lakshmana jumped to his feet and said, “Rama, you cannot do this to her! She is burnished gold, purified in fire. Please do not ask me to do this. I will do anything else you ask, but not this. Don’t you know that she is carrying your child in her womb? How can you bear to do this? Can you not wait till the child is born?”
Stone-faced, Rama sternly replied, “After the child is born you will say, ‘Let her stay while she suckles the infant,’ and then you’ll say, ‘Let her stay till he is five years old,’ and thus it will go on and on and eventually Rama would have betrayed his country for the sake of his own felicity.”
He continued in a hard, loud voice, “I do not want to hear another word from any of you. I want none of your advice. I am your king and I demand implicit obedience.” For a few stunned moments there was absolute silence, except for Rama’s heavy breathing due to his effort to suppress the emotion that threatened to overpower him.
At last, his face ashen in hue and masklike, he said, “Go Lakshmana! Leave her in a secluded spot on the banks of the Tamasa river near the holy Ganga, close to some of the hermitages, and return immediately. Do not wait to talk to her. Do not try to explain anything. Let her think the worst of me or else she will die of a broken heart. Do not look at me so accusingly. Anyone who objects to my decision is my bitter enemy. Take her away this very instant, O Lakshmana! If I see her even once, I am doomed. I will be unable to carry out my own command. If I see her fawnlike gaze fixed on me with a beseeching look, I will be lost and not all the slander in the world will enable me to let her go. So go now! Go before my heart fails me, before emotion weakens my adamantine resolve. Why do you hesitate? It is I, the king of the country, who is commanding you.” His brothers could not speak a word. Lakshmana cursed his luck for having been chosen to carry out this terrible command.
His eyes brimming with tears, Rama stumbled from the room and went to an enclosed spot in the garden where he would not be able to see Sita.
He spent the night in the garden, keeping a lonely vigil with the stars. If he went to his room and took his beloved in his arms, he knew that he would never be able to let her go. Who knew what bitter thoughts passed through his mind? But he was firm in his resolve. Dharma was his god, and to dharma he was prepared to sacrifice his beloved queen and his unborn child.
Sita slept
alone that night. She wondered at her lord’s absence but thought it must be due to official matters. Like a child, she was excited at the thought of the treat in store for her on the morrow. Some of the happiest moments of her life had been spent in the forest with her dear husband and she was eagerly looking forward to spending at least another night in the hermitage with the loving wives of the sages. She had already tied a small bundle of gifts for the ashramites and their wives and was ready to go when Lakshmana arrived.
Without looking at her he said in a voice drained of emotion, “The king, your husband, has commanded me to fulfill your desire to visit the Ganga and the hermitages of the sages. Are you ready to leave?”
Sita was delighted and happily accompanied him to the waiting chariot. It was a grim twosome that set out in the pearly mist of the morn. Neither Sumantra nor Lakshmana could speak a word or even look at her. Sita alone was full of cheer. She turned round for a last look at the sleeping town, not realizing that it was, indeed, her last look. Suddenly her heart had misgivings. Everywhere she saw ill omens. Her right side and eye were twitching and she suddenly felt weak.