Hanuman

by Vanamali

  At death one goes to Rama’s realm,

  Or is born on Earth as his devotee.

  SRI HANUMAN CHALISA BY TULSIDAS

  Aum Sri Hanumathe Namaha!

  Aum Sathyavachaaya Namaha!

  33

  Tapaswin

  Dwapara Yuga

  Sri Raama Raama Raamethi, Reme Raame manorame,

  Sahasranama tat tuliam Raama nama varanane.

  Repetition of the name of Rama is equivalent to the chanting of the

  Thousand and one names of Lord Vishnu.

  As foretold by Sita, Hanuman witnessed the departure of Rama from this earth and experienced the heartbreak that followed. He returned to his habitat in the wilds on the Himalayan Mountain. As the years passed he heard of the deaths of all his friends and loved ones—his mother, Sugriva, Angada, Vibhishana, Lava, and Kusha. This was the price he had to pay for being a chiranjeevi. All alone on the slopes of the Himalayas, he meditated in order to experience the ultimate truth. He remembered the advice given by Sita.

  “Rama is the Supreme Purusha, the eternal spirit, Sita is Prakriti, cosmic matter, the embodiment of all manifestation. Together they constitute the entire universe.” He witnessed the unending transformations of matter—birth and death, joy and sorrow, aspiration and frustration, union and separation. Amidst all this change he remained in the stillness of the atman, the serenity of the soul.

  It was at this time that he felt the need to record all the glorious deeds of his master to which he had been an eyewitness. The summit of the mountain beneath which he had a cave was composed of sparkling crystalline slabs, and with his diamondlike nails he began to inscribe Rama’s story. He recorded his own version of the glorious deeds of his Lord and master, Rama, in the divine language of Sanskrit. He scratched it laboriously with his nails on the rocks. The work continued for a long time and Hanuman, lost in the intricacies of the story, became oblivious to the passage of time.

  One day Valmiki came to know that the great Hanuman too had penned the adventures of Rama, engraving the story with his nails on rocks. His curiosity was aroused and he traveled to the Himalayas where Hanuman was residing in order to see this version. The monkey warrior was no doubt an eyewitness to many of the incidents, but was he a poet? He questioned Hanuman about the rumor that he had composed his own Ramayana. Hanuman carried him and placed him on a ledge from which he could read the narration. Valmiki kept reading and reading, scanning the cliffs from top to bottom, climbing and descending now and again in order to see well. Sometimes he laughed loudly and at times his eyes brimmed with tears. Valmiki was overwhelmed by the sheer power and depth of devotion of the amazing narrative. It was truly a lofty work, inspired by great love. After finishing the story Valmiki gazed for a long time into the distance. Joy and sorrow flitted over his face. He was joyous at having had the chance to read such an exquisite work of art and sad because it obviously overshadowed his own work.

  Hanuman politely asked him the reason for his sorrow. “O best of sages! Is something wrong? Does the poetry have many faults?”

  Valmiki turned to him and said, “It is indeed a marvelous bit of work. Every image, every word is alive and pregnant with devotion. There is not and never can be an equal to it. My version, which I created with such pains over a period of twelve years, is no match for the magnificence of your work and will therefore be despised.”

  For a moment Hanuman was dumbstruck. Then he said, “Is that all that is bothering you?” He promptly tore the slabs on which he had scribbled the poem on the mountain and piled them on one shoulder. He placed the aged saint on another shoulder and flew to the ocean. When they reached the middle Hanuman called loudly, “May these be an offering to my Lord.” With these words, he threw his own version into the sea, where they raised huge waves before disappearing into the depths of the sea. Valmiki watched speechless, overcome with shame and guilt. “It would have been better,” he thought, “if he had thrown me into the sea and saved that wonderful story.”

  But Hanuman seemed unperturbed and cheerful. He returned the sage to his own hermitage in a trice. “Please don’t worry about this,” he said. “It was just something I did to while away the time!”

  The Ramayana is a story of tyaga, or renunciation, and this aspect of Hanuman’s personality is considered to be far more important than his rhetorical skills. Selfless and compassionate, his loyalty was always to his master and not to any particular telling of the tale, and he willingly drowned his own masterpiece in order to spare a poet’s wounded pride. This was the first and greatest Ramayana, called the Hanumad Ramayana, which like the original Veda, was lost and preserved only in fragments.

  Hanuman bowed to Valmiki, who blessed him and said prophetically, “O Son of Vayu, in another age I will take birth again and devote myself to your service. I will sing your praises and teach others to do so. I will retell the story you have told, using the language of the common man so that everyone may understand it.”

  Hanuman smiled and said, “Victory to Lord Rama!”

  It is said that Saint Tulsidas, who composed the Ramacharitamanas, was none other than the Maharishi Valmiki, reborn to fulfill his own desire.

  Later, one tablet is said to have floated ashore during the time of the great poet Kalidasa, when it was exhibited at a public place. It was in an extinct script, and Kalidasa is said to have deciphered it and recognized that it was from the Hanumad Ramayana as recorded by Hanuman, and he considered that he was very fortunate to see at least one stanza of this immortal work.

  Hanuman’s heart was so full of Rama that it was bound to pour out of him in the form of music. He composed verses and set them to music in praise of his Lord. He sang these in his powerful voice and they reverberated across the hills and valleys of the Himalayas. Birds paused in their flight and animals gathered round to listen to Hanuman sing and chant the name of Rama unceasingly, without even pausing for breath.

  By this time the yuga known as Treta, in which Rama had lived, was long over. It fact, it was almost the end of the next yuga, known as Dwapara, in which Vishnu had taken another incarnation on earth as Krishna. Hanuman was the instrument that Krishna chose to curb the pride of many of his attendants. He had many wives but Sathyabhama thought that she was his favorite, little realizing that he was equally affectionate to all. None was specially dear or hateful to him. She considered herself to be very beautiful and had once asked him whether she was not more beautiful than Sita to whom he had been so attached in his previous incarnation. Krishna’s vehicle was Garuda and his weapon was the discus called Sudarshana. All of these attendants became very proud of themselves and Krishna decided that it was time to teach them a lesson. Along with them, he also wanted to teach a lesson to the sage Narada and his disciple Tumburu, who thought themselves to be the greatest of all musicians.

  Once the two celestial sages came to the court of Krishna and asked him which of them he considered to be the best musician. Krishna smiled and asked them to go to the Himalayas and listen to Hanuman. The two agreed condescendingly and went to the icy slopes where they found Hanuman and asked him to sing. With his usual modesty Maruti said that he was no singer but only wanted to pour out the glories of Rama. But since they insisted, he picked up his lute and started to sing. Narada and Tumburu were enchanted by the music. Such was the power of his voice that the snow began to melt and when he stopped the melted snow became ice. Narada and Tumburu found that they were truly stuck to the ice. They begged Hanuman to release them.

  “Why don’t you both sing so that the snow melts and then you can free yourselves?” asked Hanuman.

  But try as they might, neither of their voices could melt the ice. They realized that their voices were filled with ego while Hanuman sang out of pure devotion. Now they understood why Krishna had sent them to Hanuman.

  Another time Narada went to Dwaraka, strumming his lute in order to pay his respects to Krishna. Narada was a great bhakta, so Krishna paid him homage. He made him sit and then asked h
im if there was anything he wanted to tell him.

  Narada said, “Well, actually, I came to tell you of how I was insulted by your vehicle Garuda. I had gone to Indra’s assembly hall and there everyone paid homage to me except this eagle who said that he saw no reason to respect a person like me who was noted for creating troublesome situations! I didn’t curse him since I knew he spoke out of his ignorance, but I thought I might as well mention this to you since I think it is time he was taught a lesson.”

  Krishna smiled in his usual mysterious fashion, for he knew that his three favorites were filled with pride and he was waiting for an occasion to curb them a little. This was a good opportunity to teach all three of them a lesson. He told Narada to go and call his wife Satyabhama. Narada was bewildered and wondered how Satyabhama, who was herself noted for her arrogance, could help in this matter. However he did as he was bidden and went to Satyabhama’s apartment. He asked someone to announce his arrival but was told that she was busy with her toilette and would not be able to see him. Naturally he was quite annoyed at this and he returned and gave the news to Krishna.

  “Don’t worry, O Narada!” said Krishna with his usual smile. “If she won’t come, then you should go to the Himalayas and ask Hanuman to come. As you know, he has been meditating there since Treta Yuga, from the time of my advent as Rama.

  Again Narada was puzzled as to why he should be sent off to Hanuman, whom he had already met once and who had humbled his pride. However, he was always ready to play along with the Lord, so off he went to the icy mountains where Hanuman was meditating. He went close to him and said loudly, “I have been sent by Lord Krishna to call you to come to Dwaraka!”

  Hanuman was in deep meditation and did not even open his eyes. Narada repeated the message in a louder voice. At this Maruti opened his eyes and asked, “Who is Krishna? I know no one of that name.” He then closed his eyes and lapsed into samadhi once again.

  Narada was perplexed and thought for a while. Then he realized that Hanuman was Rama’s devotee. He probably didn’t even know that the present epoch was Dwapara Yuga. He had no contact with the world and probably didn’t know about the advent of Krishna. Then he had a brilliant idea. He went close to him and taking out his lute, he started to chant the name of Rama. Even though he was immersed in a super-conscious state, Hanuman started to come closer to Narada without realizing what he was doing. Narada now started to sing of the glories of Rama and began to walk off. Maruti started to follow him with closed eyes. Narada went all the way to Dwaraka and there he stopped his singing. He went to give the news to Krishna. When the singing stopped abruptly, Hanuman opened his eyes and was surprised to find himself in a beautiful garden. He realized that he had been tricked somehow and started destroying the trees in his anger. He mowed down the guards who came to drive him off. The news of a monkey destroying the garden was reported immediately to Krishna. The Lord summoned the eagle Garuda and ordered him to go and chase the monkey from his garden.

  Garuda went and saw a monkey sitting with his back to him, munching fruit.

  “Vile one!” the eagle screeched. “Who are you and why have you destroyed Lord Krishna’s garden?”

  Without even turning around, the monkey replied, “As you see, I am a monkey and I’m doing the normal thing that all monkeys do!” Saying this, he resumed his feast of the fruits. Garuda was enraged at this treatment and attacked Hanuman, who quickly wrapped him in his tail and began to choke the life out of him.

  With his remaining breath, Garuda gasped, “Lord Krishna has sent me.”

  “Who is he?” asked Hanuman loosening his grip a little, “I know only Lord Rama.”

  “They are the same, you fool!” said Garuda in a choking voice.

  “Maybe you are right,” said Hanuman, “but I only answer Rama’s call.”

  Hanuman had no intention of killing the bird, so he tossed him headfirst into the ocean and bounded off to the southern mountains.

  After swallowing a lot of seawater, Garuda revived and made his way back to the court where, with downcast face and dripping plumage, he presented himself before Krishna.

  “I see you have been having a dip in the sea!” said Krishna with an innocent look.

  Garuda fell at his feet and said, “My Lord! That is not an ordinary monkey. He bound me with his tail and threw me into the ocean.”

  Krishna comforted him and said, “That monkey is Hanuman, the great bhakta of Rama. Go to the Malaya Mountains in the south and call him again, but this time tell him, “Sri Rama is calling you.”

  Still proud of his speed, Garuda streaked across the sky to the southern mountains to find Hanuman. He was a bit wary about approaching him and respectfully gave Krishna’s message to him. Hanuman, of course, was delighted and told him to go and that he would follow him. Garuda thought to himself, “This monkey may be strong, but he certainly won’t be able to match my speed! Wonder when, if ever, he’ll reach Dwaraka!” He grinned to himself and took off in a trice and flew at full speed toward Dwaraka.

  Krishna decided to welcome Hanuman by taking on the form of Rama.

  Turning to his wife Satyabhama he asked her to take on Sita’s form and accompany him since that would give greater pleasure to Maruti. She saw to her amazement that Krishna had already taken on the form of Rama, complete with bow and arrows. Then Krishna summoned his discus, Sudarshana, and told him to stand guard outside his door, for he was going to meet an important guest. Bristling with his own importance, Sudarshana stood guard at the door. It took a long time for Satyabhama to finish her toilette and dress like Sita.

  After his conversation with Garuda, Hanuman meditated on Rama and reached Dwaraka in a trice. He was just about to enter the throne room when Sudarshana stopped him. Not wanting to waste time in pointless arguments, Maruti simply grabbed the discus and stuffed it into his mouth, entering without any further delay. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw Rama and Sita awaiting him. When Hanuman saw them, he was totally bewildered. He ran forward and prostrated himself to them.

  “My Lord!” he said. “I see now why my meditation was interrupted and why I was brought to this strange place. I have been longing for this blissful vision for a long, long time.” Glancing at Satyabhama standing on Krishna’s left, he said, “My Lord! Where is my revered mother? Who is this woman standing beside you? She has no resemblance to the princess of Videha.”

  Satyabhama was truly mortified to hear this. She had always thought herself to be superior to Sita. She hung her head in shame.

  Krishna gave a sidelong glance at Satyabhama and, turning to embrace Hanuman, he said, “My dearest devotee! Do you realize that this is already the yuga known as Dwapara? Your Rama has incarnated himself in the form of Krishna in this epoch.”

  With these words, the Lord showed himself to Hanuman as Krishna. Maruti was overjoyed to see this and once again fell at his feet and begged his pardon for having devastated his garden. Narada was, of course, an interested spectator of the whole drama. Just at this moment there was a flurry of wings, and Garuda flew in, huffing and panting. Seeing Hanuman standing before Krishna, he was totally bewildered and hung his head in shame.

  Krishna looked askance at him. Then, turning to Hanuman, he asked, “By the way, did someone try to stop you from entering this room?”

  Hanuman looked a bit sheepish and said, “Actually, there was some sort of metallic thing that kept buzzing and trying to stop me, but since I was in a hurry to reach you, I didn’t wait to exchange blows but simply popped him into my mouth.”

  With these words, he spat out Sudarshana, who naturally looked very crestfallen. Krishna pointedly looked the other way so as not to give further embarrassment to the three who had set themselves up as his favorites and who were in great need of a set down.

  Turning to Hanuman, Krishna said, “O Hanuman, I have incarnated myself in order to establish the rule of dharma once again in the world. For this, my chosen instruments are the Pandavas, who belong to the Kuru dynasty. They ar
e five in number and the second brother, Bhima, is your brother since he was born of the wind god, Vayu. They have been banished from the court and will be coming to the Himalayas soon. You will have a chance of meeting both Bhima and Arjuna. You will also be called upon to help them in their war of righteousness. We will meet again on the battlefield of Kurukshetra.”

  Hanuman took his leave and returned to his solitary mountain fastness.

  Krishna now turned to Garuda. He placed his hands over him and made him get up. He gave a quizzical glance at Narada, who was standing close by.

  Garuda hung his head in shame and begged Narada’s pardon for having slighted him.

  “My Lord,” he said to Krishna. “I know this is all your game and you wanted to teach me a lesson never to be rude to your devotees. Indeed, now I realize that Narada is one of your greatest devotees.”

  Sudarshana, in the meantime, had also realized that this was all a game of his Lord to put down his pride and had slunk away in shame. Krishna now glanced at Sathyabhama, who refused to meet his eyes and looked fixedly at her toes. She realized that her beauty of which she was so proud and by which she thought she could enslave Krishna was nothing compared to Sita’s. She was slowly beginning to realize the greatness of her Lord who was supreme in himself and a slave to none!