by Vanamali
Bharata sacrifices his comforts, which he could easily have enjoyed as regent, and chooses to live the life of an ascetic, refusing to grab the throne for himself. Like Lakshmana, he makes these sacrifices for the love of his brother Rama.
Hanuman sacrifices his own interests again and again for Rama’s sake. A classic example of the sacrifice of his ego is the passage in which he chooses to throw his own Ramayana into the ocean to make an old man (Valmiki) happy.
The vulture Jatayu sacrifices his life to save Sita, due to his great love for Rama.
There are many such examples, so it is only to be expected that this story, which is the story of love and sacrifice, should end in the sacrifice of Rama’s beloved at the altar of dharma, which he places above everything else.
Sita slept alone the night before her trip to the forest. She wondered at her Lord’s absence, but then she thought it must have been because he was held up with some 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 loving 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 up a small bundle of gifts for the ashramites and their wives, and she was ready to go when Lakshmana arrived and knocked at the door.
Without looking at her, he said in a voice that was totally 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 around 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 felt weak all at once. In an agitated voice, she asked, “O son of Sumitra! Tell me, is all well with your brother? I have not seen him this morning or in the night. Where was he? I fear something inauspicious has happened.”
In a choking voice Lakshmana answered, “The king, your husband, is quite well. He gave orders that you should have an undisturbed night, as you were to undertake a strenuous journey in the morning. He told me to wish you well.” More than that he could not say.
By afternoon they reached the banks of the River Gomati and camped at one of the ashrams. Next morning they went forward in the chariot and reached the banks of the holy river. Here Lakshmana could contain himself no longer. He broke down and wept like a child.
“Why are you crying, Lakshmana?” asked Sita. “You are making me nervous. I have been longing to come here and now that you have brought me here, you make me sad by your weeping. Is it because you have been parted from Rama for two days? Then what about me? How much should I cry? I cannot endure life without him. Come, let us hurry and go to the ashramas and distribute our gifts, and then we will return. I too am beginning to feel uneasy. I fear something is wrong with my Lord.”
Wiping his eyes, Lakshmana brought a boat and escorted Sita to the opposite bank. He then fell at her feet and sobbed his heart out. Sumantra stood on the side, shedding silent tears. Sita was really disturbed at the sight.
“Tell me, Lakshmana, what is the matter? Has something happened to my dear husband? Why didn’t he come with us? I was hoping he would also come.” Until the end, her one thought was for him, who was her all. She never dreamed that the misfortune the omens foretold was meant for her.
Eyes blinded with tears, Lakshmana looked pleadingly at her. “My noble queen! Forgive me for what I have to do. Rama has entrusted me with the ignoble task of abandoning you here. Better for me to have died rather than carry out this command.” So saying, he prostrated himself before her. Sita bent down and gently lifted him up. “What is it, Lakshmana? What are you trying to tell me? What is the reason for my husband’s sudden decision?” She could not believe that she was hearing rightly.
“Rumors are afloat everywhere, dear lady, about you and about him. I cannot tell you all. He forbade me to tell you anything. All I can say is that his heart broke when he heard the vile accusations against you. But he is the king. He is dharma incarnate. The king’s duty is always to safeguard the interests of his subjects. Forgive him and forgive me, also, O gracious Queen of Ayodhya! I can say no more. Night is fast approaching. How can I bear to leave you here all alone with none to protect you? Rama never left you, even for a minute, without asking me to guard you. The only time we both left you was when the wicked king of the rakshasas came and abducted you. Now who is there to look after you? May your mother, the earth, give you all protection. May the sky be your canopy. May this holy river look after all your wants. Remember, my Lady, you are carrying the seed of the Ikshvaku line in your womb. It is your duty to safeguard it at all times.” Lakshmana feared that in her agony, Sita might put an end to her life.
Listening to Lakshmana’s words, Sita looked like a frightened deer and then said in a bewildered tone, “What sin have I committed, that for no reason of mine, my husband should repudiate me twice? Surely I was born for sorrow. Grief alone seems to be my constant companion. Patiently I looked at his forlorn face. Leaving my all, I followed my husband to the forest, inhabited by wild animals and demons. No woman would have done as I did, and now he has abandoned me. Was it my fault that the rakshasa abducted me? When the sages ask me what crime I have committed that my husband should abandon me, what should I tell them, O Lakshmana? What wrong have I done? I cannot even take the easy path of ending my life in this holy river, for I will be guilty of breaking the noble line of the Ikshvaku race. Lakshmana, do not grieve. Leave me here and return to the king, my husband, and tell him that his wife wishes him well. A husband is a woman’s god and I have always considered him as such. May he find eternal fame by following the dharma of a king. More important than my suffering is that his honor should remain intact. Never will Sita be guilty of bringing dishonor to Rama. Farewell, Lakshmana. You have been more than a brother to me. I have deep regard for you. I hold nothing against you. The shades of night are falling fast and you must go, lest my Lord becomes agitated.”
Lakshmana fell at her feet once more. He could not speak a word. Slowly he backed his way to the boat and was ferried to the other shore. He turned back to look at her once again and saw her lying on the ground, on the bosom of her mother, weeping as if her heart would break.
Sita looked up and saw the chariot receding into the distance. The plaintive cry of the peacock calling to its mate jarred on her delicate nerves. The Ganga flowed smoothly on, as if to comfort her in her agony. She gazed, mesmerized by the glistening water, and wondered what it would feel like to have it close over her head like a balm, but then she felt the life within her move, and she knew that she could not take the easy way out.
Victory, victory, victory to Lord Hanuman,
Be merciful even as is the master.
SRI HANUMAN CHALISA BY TULSIDAS
Aum Sri Hanumathe Namaha!
Aum Ramayana-priyaaya Namaha!
31
Ramapriyan
The Ramayana
Tato ardharatra samaye baalaka munidaraka,
Valmike priyamachakyu Sitaaya prasavam shubham.
At midnight the young ascetics gave Valmiki the news of Sita’s safe delivery,
Hearing which the sage was highly delighted.
VALMIKI RAMAYANA,
UTTARA KANDA (THE LAST BOOK)
The hermitage of the sage Valmiki was very close to where Sita had been abandoned. That morning when he had gone to the river for his morning ablutions, he happened to see two cranes mating. He gazed with joy at their spontaneous love for each other. Just then a fowler aimed a fatal arrow at the male bird and shot him, contrary to all the rules of dharma. Pierced by that cruel arrow, in the midst of the ac
t of love, the bird fell to the ground with a heartrending cry. Wrenched from her lover, the female bird screamed piteously. Beating her breast with her wings, she fluttered around, terrified and bewildered. Her piteous cries brought a gush of compassion in the heart of the sage, and he cursed the fowler. As soon as the curse left his lips, he felt great remorse. He was horrified that his compassion for the bird had made him break his vow of nonviolence. The fowler was, after all, only a helpless victim of his own karma. He felt very unhappy about the whole episode. Then he realized that that curse had flowed from his lips in a spontaneous verse of four lines with eight syllables. He was struck by the beauty of the verse and told his disciple to memorize it. The sage then continued with his interrupted ablutions and retuned to his ashrama. That evening two young brahmacharis ran to him and told him that a beautiful woman had been abandoned near the river and appeared to be contemplating jumping into it and ending her life. Valmiki ran to the river and knew that this was Sita, the wife of Rama, as told by Narada. He escorted her home and told the wives of the sages to look after her, for she was carrying the heir to the throne of the Ikshvakus.
Later, when he sat for meditation, he was still filled with remorse over the episode of the two cranes and his involuntary curse of the hunter. Brahma, the creator, appeared to him and told him not to brood over the strange event because from this incident would arise the inspiration to narrate the story of Rama and Sita.
Brahma spoke, “You will be inspired, O sage, to compose a most memorable poem on the exploits of Rama. His whole life will be revealed to you. Everything that you say in your poem will be based on facts that you have witnessed. You will be able to see each and every one of the glorious episodes in the life of this great avatara of Vishnu. You will become famous as the adi kavi, the first of all poets. The story of Rama will endure as long as these mountains and rivers stay on the face of this earth. Your fame will resound in the heavens above and the kingdoms below.”
Having blessed Valmiki thus, Brahma departed to his own abode. Valmiki then sat down and meditated on the Lord and out of his mouth gushed forth the immortal poem, called the Ramayana—The Way of Rama.
This is how the Ramayana came to be written, from the depths of Valmiki’s sorrow at the fate of the two birds who were so much in love with each other and who were parted so cruelly. It does not need much imagination to see the parallel between this story and the fate of the two lovers, Rama and Sita, who were parted time and time again despite their intense love for each other.
The poem took twelve long years to complete, and by then Sita’s babies had become twelve years of age. She had been looked after by the women of Valmiki’s ashrama and had given birth to twins nine months after her arrival. They had been named Lava and Kusha by the sage himself and had grown up as ashramites. They had no idea of their parentage.
Having composed this remarkable poem consisting of twenty-four thousand verses on the life of Rama and Sita, the seer was on the lookout for a person with a prodigious memory who could memorize the entire poem. Just then, Lava and Kusha appeared before him, clad in hermit’s garb. Knowing them to be endowed with great intelligence and mastery of music, the sage decided to teach them the entire poem, which they mastered with ease. At an august assembly of sages, the twins sang the whole poem exquisitely, in one voice. The sages were charmed and gave them many boons.
After Sita’s banishment, Rama became withdrawn and disconsolate, and when not engaged in official business, he spent most of his time alone. He performed his stately duties by placing a golden idol of Sita on the throne meant for the queen. When his subjects asked him to remarry, he totally refused.
“I have abandoned the woman I love due to your whims, but I will forever remain faithful to her who is my very life.”
He denied himself the privileges of a royal life and lived in his palace like a hermit. Though deprived of personal joy, he made sure that there was peace in the country and plenty in the houses of his citizens.
Seeing Rama in this mood, Hanuman decided to go to the Himalayas and reside there, chanting his name. Somehow the life of a hermitage suited his temperament more than the intricacies of a life at court even though it meant that he would have to be parted from his beloved Rama. He imposed this penance on himself for he wanted to experience the anguish that Sita must be going through at this cruel parting from her beloved. Immersed in his tapas he did not know what was happening in the world or that Sita had delivered twin boys in Valmiki’s ashrama.
It was at this time, twelve years after the birth of his sons, that the great sage Agastya visited Ayodhya. Rama asked his advice on how to expiate from the sin of having killed so many people during the war, and especially of killing Ravana, who was a Brahmin. Agastya advised him to perform the ashwamedha yaga, or horse sacrifice, which is the biggest of the yagas of Vedic civilization. His guru Vasishta approved of this idea. He consecrated an auspiciously marked stallion and fastened a golden crown on its brow with the royal proclamation that any ruler who supposed himself to be mightier that the owner of the horse could attempt to halt its progress. But those who were prepared to accept the suzerainty of the king would allow the horse to pass. The royal stallion would be let loose to wander for one year all over the country, followed by the king’s army. The question of which of his brothers should follow the horse was solved by Rama. He said Bharata had suffered a lot during his exile and Lakshmana had the unique privilege of accompanying him, so he ordered his youngest brother Shatrugna and his son Pushkala to follow the horse, accompanied by an army of four divisions, including many of the monkey champions who had helped him during the war.
The royal stallion was allowed to wander all over the country. Every piece of land the horse traversed unchallenged came under Rama’s sovereignty. Anyone who dared to stop the horse had to stand up to the might of Rama’s army. The yaga could begin only if the horse returned unmolested and unhampered.
At this time Rama thought to himself that the presence of Anjaneya would no doubt add to the glory of the yaga. Since Hanuman was ever immersed in the thought of Rama, he knew immediately that he was wanted. He arrived at the court and asked Rama to command him. Rama asked him to accompany Shatrugna and see to his welfare. News of the yaga spread like wildfire over the whole land. It finally reached the hermitage of Valmiki and was told to Sita as well.
The horse made its way through many lands where it was honored by all the kings. The army followed it and paused at various ashrams, paying obeisance to all the sages. At last it arrived at the ashrama of the famous sage Chyavana. Shatrugna begged him to bless them, and the sage started to praise Rama as Vishnu incarnate. He then announced his intention of going to Ayodhya with his family to have Rama’s darshan (an auspicious sight of god or a noble being). Hanuman asked Shatrugna’s permission to transport the sage and thus save him from the tedious journey on foot. Shatrugna agreed to this and Hanuman expanded his body and carried the whole party through the air, placing them in Rama’s presence in an instant. The sage was delighted and blessed him.
The horse and army now approached the city of Chakranka, ruled by King Subahu, who was a great devotee of Vishnu. His son Damana had gone hunting and when he saw the magnificent horse, he captured it without knowing anything about the matter. The army charged forward and attacked him, but they could not subdue him. He then engaged in a single combat with Shatrugnan’s son Pushkala. The prince was a remarkable warrior and soon knocked down Damana. The king heard about this and rode out of the fortress accompanied by his brother and his nephew Chitranga. A fierce battle ensued, with heavy losses on either side. At last Pushkala slew Chitranga. The king started to rain arrows at Hanuman. He responded by binding the king in his tail and throwing him to the ground. Undeterred by this, the king struggled to come to his feet. Immediately Hanuman jumped onto his chest and made him unconscious. In his unconscious state, Subahu saw a wondrous dream in which Rama was seated in his heavenly state surrounded by celestials. When he regained co
nsciousness, he called Hanuman and praised him and called off his forces. He recalled that once he had been cursed by a sage for doubting that Vishnu could take on the avatara of a man. The sage predicted that his ignorance would be removed when the Lord’s servant struck him with his foot. Subahu invited Shatrugna to his palace and paid him homage. He then paid great reverence to Hanuman for having removed his ignorance and given him darshan of the Lord.
The horse then approached the magnificent city of Devapura, whose king Viramani had once propitiated Shiva and received his protection. His son Rukmangada captured the horse and tied him up. Hanuman and Shatrugna ordered the boy to release the horse. When he refused, they were forced to fight with him. His father soon came with a huge army to help the boy. Hanuman now came forward and challenged the king and his brothers. He had a unique method of fighting. He would wrap warriors around his tail, including their chariots and horses, and dash them to the ground. When he saw his army being slaughtered, Veeramani prayed to Shiva, who immediately arrived with his brood of ravenous familiars, to help his devotee. His servant Veerabhadra now seized Pushkala by the feet and hurled him to the ground where he fell dead. Uttering a maniacal laugh he took his trident and decapitated the head of the prince. Anguished by the death of his son, Shatrugna challenged Shiva. Though he fought bravely, he was no match for the divine opponent and fell with an arrow in his heart.