by Vanamali
Vibhishana touched Lakshmana, who was then able to see Indrajit kneeling before an altar in the grove, invoking the aid of his favorite god. He was pouring ghee into the fire with a double ladle of black iron and muttering incantations. His back was turned to them. The black sacrificial goat was tied to a stake and was bleating piteously. Wearing a crimson robe with his hair all disheveled, Indrajit beat the earth with his javelin, and out came thousands of serpents that coiled themselves round his arrows, which were piled near the altar. His ax fell with deadly accuracy on the neck of the goat and severed it neatly so that it fell in a pool of blood. He held the ladle filled with goat’s blood above his head, ready for the final invocation. As the flames leaped higher and higher, the tawny figures of the tigers could be seen snarling and growling, waiting for their cue to leap out of the flames, drawing the invincible chariot. Vibhishana nudged Lakshmana, who sent an arrow straight at the upraised ladle and split it in two just as it was descending for the final offering.
His arrow screamed like an eagle, which was the deadly enemy of snakes, and the Nagas hissed and slithered back to the netherworld from which they had come. Agni the Lord of Fire rose from the sacred kund (pool) and seven tongues of flame shot out of his mouth. His eyes roved round the scene and he gave a secret smile. His form faded from the altar and the fire sank back into the hearth. There were no signs of either tigers or chariot.
Indrajit swirled round with a terrible imprecation and snarled at Vibhishana. “You traitor! You have betrayed me. You call yourself my uncle yet you have disclosed all my secrets to the enemy. Without you, he would never have found out this place. You have eaten the salt of my father’s table and yet you have defected to the enemy’s side! You are a disgrace to our race! It’s better to be a slave in one’s own country than a Lord in the enemy’s side by licking his boots. One who abandons his own people and adopts the ways of his enemy is a traitor, and I should kill you first before killing Lakshmana! May your new friends forsake you when your old ones have died!”
Vibhishana retorted, “You are the wicked son of my wicked brother, and I will have nothing to do with either of you. All these years my brother has reveled in sinful acts. His anger and arrogance are proverbial. All these years I have borne up with it because I was helpless. Though I was born in the clan of the rakshasas, my instincts were always those of a human being. If I have abandoned you all now, it is because I am fed up of living a life of unrighteousness and wish to take up a noble path. You are a foolish, impulsive boy, bursting with pride, but beware! Both you and your father are doomed and so is this fabulous city of Lanka!”
By now Jambavan and his army of bears had joined Hanuman, and they began to harass Indrajit’s army. The commotion was so great that he was forced to put an end to his verbal combat with his uncle and come out through the secret tunnel into the open forest. The demon prince was furious at having to end his ritual. He came out looking like the god of death. He was wearing silver armor and carried a silver sword. Light glinted from his sliver helmet and silver bow. A quiver of silver arrows and a silver dagger hung at his side. He climbed on his huge chariot, which was most artistically decorated and drawn by silver white horses. His hair was flowing behind him and his huge bow was kept taut and ready. He saw Lakshmana, who was seated on Hanuman’s shoulder facing him with his own bow drawn and ready. Indrajit hurled insults at him and swore to make an end of him before the day was over.
Lakshmana replied scornfully, “O son of Ravana! Make good your boast in a noble fashion. So far you have fought a secret battle, remaining invisible all the time. This is the way adopted by thieves and cowards and not heroes! Make good your boasts now in the open when I’m facing you, and let us see who is stronger.”
Indrajit said, “Today you shall see my power. All I ask is for a single combat!”
“So be it,” said Lakshmana.
Indrajit immediately let fly his arrows at Lakshmana. The deadly arrows went and buried themselves on Lakshmana’s body, making him bleed profusely.
“O son of Sumitra! Today jackals and vultures will have a grand feast. So prepare for the end.”
“Give up your empty words and enforce it with action, O devourer of human flesh!”
With these words both of them started shooting long, painful arrows tipped with golden feathers at each other, each more deadly than the other. Indrajit jumped out of his chariot and shot one thousand arrows at Lakshmana, who cut them down as they flew at him. He then shot seven arrows and slit Indrajit’s silver armor so that his coat of mail fell down like a cluster of stars. Both warriors were well matched and so swift were their hands that none could see them take an arrow or draw their bows. Arrows flew so rapidly that the sky became dark. Indrajit seized a poisoned javelin and hurled it at Lakshmana, who cut it down before it reached him. The silver boy now raised his bow again. Swift as a thought, Lakshmana cut it down before the arrow was shot. Ravana’s son then threw a demon dart that separated into splinters and pierced Lakshmana all over his body. However, Indrajit was not capable of an open combat like this. He had always fought invisibly and soon he showed signs of flagging under Lakshmana’s determined onslaught. Vibhishana advised Lakshmana to press forward since the mighty warrior appeared to be losing ground.
Lakshmana charged forward, but Indrajit rallied himself and taunted him.
“Have you forgotten our last encounter when I made you and your brother lie flat on the ground? This time I will not let you go as easily but will despatch you fast to Yama’s city!”
With these words he discharged seven shafts at Lakshmana and ten at Hanuman. Then he turned toward his uncle and let fly a hundred arrows at him. Thus they started another formidable battle that went on for hours, with others looking on in amazement. Vibhishana now incited the other monkey chiefs not to lose time watching but to try and drive off Indrajit’s army.
The two protagonists were set for a fight to the finish. Their brilliant arrows, charged with incantations, flew across the sky like meteors and collided in mid-air with earth-shattering explosions, each negating the other. Beasts and birds flew hither and thither and the very air seemed to hold its breath in fear. Lakshmana sent four silver-tipped arrows that instantly felled the four beautiful caparisoned white horses. As the chariot started to swerve violently, another crescent-shaped arrow neatly severed the charioteer?s head from his shoulders. For a second Indrajit faltered but undaunted, he took up his bow again and shot thousands of arrows at Lakshmana’s forces. The monkeys quickly took shelter behind Lakshmana. Under cover of the darkness, Indrajit went back to the city and returned with another chariot. Lakshmana was wonderstruck at the swiftness with which he returned. Within minutes Lakshmana smashed this chariot also. Lifting his javelin high above his head, the night stalker whirled it round and round so that the blade seemed to become a blazing wheel. Lakshmana did not wait for him to release it but shattered it with a hundred arrows. Night was falling fast and Vibhishana advised Lakshmana to put an end to Indrajit since he would grow stronger with the advent of darkness.
At last Lakshmana took out the arrow given to him by the sage Agastya, which was charged with the power of Indra, and prayed to the weapon. “If it be true that Rama, the son of Dasaratha, has never swerved from the path of dharma, if it is true that he has ever been truthful, has ever been loyal, and is absolutely unrivalled, then let this arrow kill Indrajit, the son of Ravana!”
So saying, he let fly the mantra -charged arrow at Indrajit. It flew like a streak of lightning straight to its target and before he could counter it with one of his own, it neatly severed his handsome head so that it fell on the ground, looking like a silver lotus. Like the bright sun setting behind the hills lay the head of Mandodari’s glorious son. The vanquisher of Indra was killed with the missile of Indra himself. For a moment his body seemed to stand against the light. Then it fell with a thud. In death his corpse reverted to its original rakshasic form. There was nothing beautiful about it. His face was set in a snarl with
long protruding fangs. The gods rejoiced at his death, for he had been a terrible scourge to them. The vanara army set up a roar of victory that could be heard by both Rama and Ravana. The rakshasa army fled in dismay, leaving their weapons behind.
Monkeys and bears hugged each other. Vibhishana, Hanuman, and Jambavan returned to Rama and gave him the news of the glorious combat that had ended in the death of the famous son of Ravana. Rama hugged his brother and praised him for his amazing feat. He immediately ordered the physician to come and administer to his numerous wounds.
Indrajit’s body was covered and carried to the king’s palace, but no one dared to tell Ravana. At last his minister Suka went to him and said, “Your son has been killed by Lakshmana.”
Ravana sank to the floor in a swoon. Then he roused himself and weeping, said, “My son! My beloved son! There was no one like you in the whole world. You could defeat every enemy you encountered, yet you have been killed by that puny human being. How is it possible? Without you, this entire earth seems to be an empty place. Life has lost its charm for me. Where have you gone, leaving me and your mother and your beloved wife?”
Indrajit’s wife was called Sulochana. She was the daughter of the celestial snake known as Ananta, on whom Vishnu reclines. As we know, Rama was the avatara of Vishnu and Lakshmana of Ananta. So when she came to know that her beloved husband had been killed by the avatara of her father, Sulochana was grief-stricken. She rushed to Ravana’s assembly hall and accused him of having caused the death of her husband. Ravana was still in a state of shock. He refused to believe that his invincible son had died and continued to talk to the corpse as if it were alive. Indrajit, who had once captured Indra and brought him in chains to his father, now lay dead, killed by an arrow that had been charged with the might of Indra himself.
Indrajit’s mother, Mandodari, and his wife, Sulochana, threw themselves over the body and started weeping. When the time came to cremate his body, Sulochana threw herself on the blazing pyre like a chaste wife and immolated herself.
As an aside, it should be noted that the practice of self-immolation is an ancient one. Followed by various cultures on several continents, it was not universal throughout India’s history. Lauded in symbolic terms only, the practice has long been banned in India.
Ravana, in the meantime, started ranting and raving. He forgot that he was the sole cause for the destruction of all his sons. His sorrow turned to anger, as it normally did with him, and he decided to kill Sita in truth and not as a trick, for she was the cause of it all. He forgot that he had no one to blame but himself. It was his cruel and unjust act that had brought calamity on his whole race as prophesized by Vibhishana. Tears like liquid fire rolled down his cheeks. Picking up his sword, he rushed out of the ashoka grove determined to kill Sita, who was still devoted to Rama. His ministers and wives rushed after him. They had seen him angry before but that was nothing compared to what they saw now. Like a malefic comet approaching Venus, he flew at Sita with upraised sword. She saw him coming and realized that this time he was not approaching with words of love but with the sword of hate, and that he meant to kill her as easily as he had professed to love her. How easily swayed are the minds of the wicked! One day, they profess to love and the next day they begin to hate. Sita was ready to die since she was convinced that Rama had died. Luckily for her, one of Ravana’s ministers, who was saner than the rest, approached him and said, “My Lord! How can you contemplate such a sinful deed!? It was bad enough that you abducted her. How can you think of killing her now when she is helpless and at your mercy? Leave this poor, defenseless woman alone and turn your fury against the one who killed your son. Today is the fourteenth day of the dark lunar fortnight. Tomorrow is the night of the new moon, the most auspicious night for night rangers like us. That is the time for you to march against Rama, and after having killed both of them, you can return victoriously and claim Sita as your own!”
Luckily for Sita, Ravana seemed to find this advice palatable. He checked his stride and stood for a moment lost in thought. Then without another word to anyone, he turned round and marched back to his assembly hall.
May Sheshnag, the thousand-headed divine serpent, sing your praises.
Saying thus, the Lord of Lakshmi embraced you!
SRI HANUMAN CHALISA BY TULSIDAS
Aum Sri Hanumathe Namaha!
Aum Banda-mokshadaaya Namaha!
24
Mahabala
Journey to Patala
Think of Vaidehi as your mother and Rama as your father,
Where Rama dwells there is Ayodhya,
As wherever there is the light of the sun, there is day.
SUMITRA TO LAKSHMANA IN THE
RAMACHARITAMANAS OF TULSIDAS
Ravana was totally demoralized by his favorite son’s death. He was at a loss to know what to do. Then he suddenly remembered his other sons, Mahiravana and Ahiravana, who were ruling in Patala, the lowest of all the seven worlds. They were born to Mandodari but their serpentine appearance was so terrible that it frightened even Ravana, so he cast them into the ocean. There they were adopted by the snake demoness Simhika and taken to the serpent world. They performed intense tapas to Mahakaali and acquired supernatural powers. She also gave them the boon that one day their father Ravana, who had insulted and abandoned them, would call on them for help. They had married the daughters of the king of Patala and become kings in turn. Ravana suddenly thought of them. He went to Patala, the netherworld, and asked them to help him. They both said, “Don’t underestimate your enemy. He is Vishnu incarnate. It would be better for you to make truce with him.”
The brothers were great devotees of the goddess Kaali, and Ravana slyly told them that they were missing a golden opportunity to please the goddess by offering the heads of the two handsome and virile princes!
“Think of the powers she will grant you if you make this sacrifice,” he said.
Hearing this, they decided to help their father.
In the meantime, the ever-watchful Vibhishana heard of Ravana’s visit to Patala. He called Hanuman and told him to be on his guard, for these two night wanderers were great practitioners of black magic and sorcery and were capable of taking on many forms in order to fool people. Hanuman told him to have no fears and he would see to it that no danger came to Rama and Lakshmana. Hanuman lengthened his tail to enormous proportions and wound it round and round the camp so that the site became a fortress, and he sat in front so that no one could enter without his permission. The sorcerers came there and didn’t know how to get in and kidnap the brothers. They cast a spell by which all the monkeys who were guarding the fortress went to sleep.
However, Hanuman remained awake, and they still did not know how to get in as he remained guarding the entrance. Then they thought of a brilliant idea. Mahiravana disguised himself as Vibhishana. He went to Hanuman and told him to lift his tail a little and let him in. Naturally, Hanuman wanted to know where Vibhishana had gone at that time of night. He was under the impression that he was inside. The false Vibhishana said that he had gone to the seashore for his ablutions. Hanuman thought it a bit strange that Vibhishana wanted to take a bath at that time of night; however, he allowed him to go in. Mahiravana went to the place where Rama and Lakshmana were sleeping and threw a spell over the whole camp so that everyone fell unconscious. His brother had slipped in invisibly when Hanuman lifted his tail. So the two of them easily lifted the brothers on their shoulders. They made a tunnel to the netherworld and transported them to Patala.
When the monkeys roused themselves from the spell, they discovered that Rama and Lakshmana were missing. There was uproar in the camp, and they ran to give this news to Hanuman.
“Did any stranger enter the fortress made by your tail in the night?” asked Sugriva.
“Only Vibhishana came at night,” said Hanuman.
Hearing this, Vibhishana came forward and exclaimed, “I certainly did not go out of the fortress at night. I was inside the camp all the time. It m
ust have been the Ahi-Mahiravanas about whom I warned you. They must have taken the princes to Patala. You are the only one who can get them back, O Hanuman! Don’t delay. Go immediately.”
“Fear not. Wherever he might have hidden them, I will discover their whereabouts and bring them back,” said Hanuman.
Just then they saw the tunnel that the Ahi-Mahiravanas had made. Hanuman jumped into it without a second thought. The tunnel ended in a forest. There he heard a conversation between two birds. The female bird was sulking and the male was trying to cajole her with these words: “My Dearest! Please don’t be angry with me. Tomorrow night Ahiravana and Mahiravana will be making a human sacrifice of two brothers in their Kaali temple in Patala. After it is over, I promise to bring some tasty morsels of human flesh for you.”