Sita: An Illustrated Retelling of the Ramayana

by Devdutt Pattanaik

  Indrajit noticed how Ram always fought with one eye on Lakshman, making sure that he was safe. He realized Lakshman was Ram’s weak spot; if Lakshman could be brought down, then Ram would be too demotivated to continue the war. So he focused all his energies on Lakshman – shooting a volley of arrows in his direction. Lakshman deflected all the arrows Indrajit directed at him. But one managed to get through, and hit him right next to his heart.

  It felt like a sharp scorpion sting. As he fell, he felt as if a python had grabbed him and was squeezing the life out of him. Fire seemed to course through his blood. The pain was excruciating. He screamed and that scream brought the battle to a halt. Indrajit tried to grab the fallen body and drag it into the city, but Hanuman rushed to the spot, pushed Indrajit away and took custody of Lakshman’s limp body.

  Ram rushed to the spot as the rakshasas withdrew, singing songs of triumph, pleased that Indrajit had finally turned the war in their favour. Ram was inconsolable in his grief. ‘I failed to protect Sita. I failed to protect Lakshman. What will I tell his mother when I return to Ayodhya? Will I return to Ayodhya alone? Must I even return so to Ayodhya?’

  Dashratha’s relationship with Ram needs to be contrasted with Ravana’s relationship with Indrajit. Dashratha is a protective father while Ravana is an exploitative father. Dashratha is forced by royal rules to send his son to exile while Ravana’s rage and lust prevent him from letting Sita go, thus compelling Indrajit to fight Ram.

  Ram may be God but he displays human emotions like grief when Sita is abducted and Lakshman is hurt. Some scholars call it leela, or playacting. Everyone agrees it is a unique feature of Hindu tradition where God is also subject to all human experiences and emotions.

  Hanuman to the Rescue

  As the venom spread through Lakshman’s veins, the old bear Jambuvan said that the only thing that could save him was a herb called Sanjivani found on the hill of herbs, Gandhamadan, far to the north of the Vindhyas on the slopes of the Himalayas. ‘It has to reach here before sunrise. If anyone can do it, it is Hanuman.’

  Hanuman immediately leapt into the air and made his way north.

  Ravana saw this from his tower, and dispatched the rakshasa Kalanemi, time-traveller and shape-shifter, to thwart Hanuman’s mission.

  Hanuman reached Gandhamadan very quickly and was greeted by a sage who said he would point out the magical herb provided Hanuman took a bath in the lake. The plant was sacred and was not to be touched by unwashed hands!

  But in the waters was a great crocodile ready to eat Hanuman. As Hanuman battled the crocodile, the crocodile spoke in a woman’s voice, ‘I am an apsara cursed to live as a crocodile until a monkey overpowers me. If you do succeed in overpowering me and liberating me, know this: the sage you met at the foot of the mountain is no sage; he is Kalanemi sent by Ravana to destroy you.’

  Hanuman managed to overpower the crocodile. He then crushed Kalanemi underfoot and went in search of the magical herb. Time was running out; the sun would soon rise and it would all be over.

  To make matters worse, Ravana, who controlled the celestial bodies in the sky, compelled Surya to rise before time, despite his protests. When Hanuman realized this, he caught the sun and trapped him in his underarm.

  Hanuman then scoured the mountain for the herb. In the moonlight it was difficult to distinguish one plant from another. So he decided to carry the entire mountain to Lanka and let Jambuvan find the herb. The devas watched in amazement as Hanuman increased his size and then proceeded to uproot the entire mountain, balance it in the palm of one hand and leap up into the sky making his way southwards, the sun trapped in his armpit.

  The most popular image of Hanuman in temples is of him carrying the mountain in one hand and crushing Kalanemi under his foot.

  The mountain of herbs is identified as the Valley of Flowers near Badri in Uttarakhand on the slopes of the Himalayas. It is sometimes called Gandhamadan, and at other times Dronagiri.

  Hanuman, though a great warrior, is not viewed as a god in the Valmiki Ramayana. This transformation starts around the eighth century CE, with naga-babas (naked ascetics) identifying him with Shiva, and later with him being seen as the perfect bhakta of Ram by scholars and sages such as Ramanuja of Tamil Nadu (twelfth century), Madhwa of Karnataka (thirteenth century), Ramanand (fourteenth century) whose influence was great in North India, and Ramdas (seventeenth century) who was popular in Maharashtra.

  In the Gangetic plains are akharas, local gymnasiums, where men hope to be like Hanuman, strong and celibate warriors who serves Ram unconditionally. Here they spend their free time bodybuilding.

  Hanuman is the patron god of physical training across India.

  Hanuman Encounters Bharata

  To go south, Hanuman had to cross Ayodhya and the strange sight of a flying hill frightened the residents of the city. What was even more intriguing was that the monkey carrying the hill kept chanting the name of Ram.

  Bharata, caretaker of the Kosala kingdom, immediately mounted his bow and, also chanting the name of Ram, shot at the beast carrying the hill. The arrow struck Hanuman and he fell down near Nandigram where Bharata had taken residence. ‘Who are you,’ asked Bharata, ‘and why are you chanting the name of my brother Ram?’

  Hanuman fell at Bharata’s feet. ‘Are you the brother of Ram who gave up the kingdom that his mother had secured for him through guile? Blessed am I to meet you.’ Bharata was surprised that the monkey knew so much about him. Hanuman then introduced himself and told him the situation Ram was in. Bharata had had no news of Ram ever since they parted ways at Chitrakut. He felt miserable for his brother and for Sita and for Lakshman and thanked Hanuman for coming to the aid of his brother.

  ‘Sugriva owes my brother a favour. But you, why do you help Ram?’ asked Bharata.

  ‘He inspires me to be a better man,’ said Hanuman. Bharata smiled on hearing this from a monkey. ‘But soon it will be time for the sun to rise. I am afraid by interrupting my journey you have delayed me and I may not be able to make it in time to give the life-saving herb to Lakshman.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ said Bharata. ‘Climb on my arrow and I will ensure it carries you to Lanka in time.’ Trusting Bharata’s abilities completely, Hanuman, mountain in hand, sun in armpit, jumped on Bharata’s arrow that he shot southwards. Charged with the power of hymns and the name of Ram, it managed to transport Hanuman to Lanka in no time.

  Jambuvan found the magical herb on the mountain and it was given to Lakshman early enough to counter the effects of Indrajit’s poisonous dart. His breathing became normal, his eyes cleared, energy flowed through his limbs and he jumped up ready to do combat.

  ‘I think it is time for you to let the sun go,’ said Ram to Hanuman in a voice full of gratitude. Hanuman had quite forgotten about the sun. He raised his arm and Surya made his way to the sky. In the glory of the morning light, Ravana saw the monkeys march towards Lanka once more, chanting the name of Ram, led by an invigorated and determined Lakshman.

  The story of Bharata’s intervention comes from regional retellings of the Ramayana written after the tenth century.

  The story reveals the tension between establishing the greatness of Hanuman, the monkey-servant, and the greatness of Bharata, the royal brother. Hanuman flies carrying the mountain while Bharata’s arrow carries Hanuman carrying the mountain. Bharata is seen almost as a twin of Ram.

  In the Valmiki Ramayana, Hanuman brings the mountain of herbs to Lanka twice.

  In Rameswaram is a hill identified as the remains of the mountain brought to the south by Hanuman.

  Sulochana

  Indrajit was furious that Lakshman had been revived. Then a piece of information reached him that turned his rage into fear. He learned that Lakshman had not slept for over twelve years and through that period had been a celibate ascetic. It had been foretold that Indrajit would die only at the hands of such a man.

  A nervous Indrajit withdrew to a cave and began worshipping Kali. If anyone could save h
im from Lakshman it was the Goddess.

  Not finding Indrajit on the battlefield, Lakshman growled like a frustrated lion. Vibhishana said, ‘I am sure he has gone to the cave inside the Nikumbila Hill to appease the Goddess with sacrifices and gain powers from her. If he does succeed, he will be invincible.’

  ‘Show me the way to that cave. Let us interrupt this sacrifice. Let us kill Indrajit,’ said Lakshman.

  ‘Do you realize, Lakshman,’ said Ram, ‘when Tadaka interrupted Vishwamitra’s yagna, we called her a demon. Now we plan to interrupt Indrajit’s worship. Are we demons too?’

  Lakshman was too angry to think about the irony of the situation. He followed Vibhishana along with a group of monkeys to the cave where they found Indrajit in the midst of a ritual, offering sacrifices to the Goddess, determined to satisfy her.

  While the monkeys kicked away the sacred utensils, pulled away the mat on which Indrajit sat and screamed loudly to drown all sounds of chanting, Lakshman raised his bow and challenged Indrajit to a duel.

  Cursing his uncle for revealing his secret temple, Indrajit picked up his bow and shot arrows to counter the arrows shot by Lakshman. It was a fierce fight that lasted for hours. No one interfered, as it was between Lakshman and Indrajit. The flesh of both warriors was pierced with hundreds of arrows but they continued fighting. Finally, Lakshman released an arrow with a crescent blade and it cut off Indrajit’s head.

  The arrow carried Indrajit’s head through the air right into Ravana’s hall in Lanka. ‘I am sorry I failed you,’ said Indrajit’s head before shutting its eyes.

  Ravana broke down on seeing his son’s severed head. Mandodari beat her chest in sorrow. Gloom descended on the city. The greatest and noblest warrior of Lanka was dead.

  Indrajit’s wife, Sulochana, said, ‘My husband must be cremated in full. We must get back the rest of his body so that it can be joined to the head before the funeral takes place.’ The body lay unattended in the battlefield and no rakshasa was willing to go there and fight the vanaras to claim the body. ‘Then I will go myself,’ said Sulochana.

  ‘No, don’t go,’ said Mandodari to her daughter-in-law. ‘They may capture you and hold you hostage and ask for Sita as ransom. They may do unspeakable things to you.’

  ‘I must take my chances,’ said Sulochana bravely. She marched to the battlefield with a group of women and found the headless body of Indrajit surrounded by monkeys. She walked straight up to Ram and said, ‘My husband was a dutiful son just like you. And I have been his devoted wife, as Sita has been yours. Allow me to claim his body. Let him be complete when he makes his journey across the Vaitarni to the land of Yama.’

  Impressed by the nobility and the courage of this lady, Ram let her claim Indrajit’s body. She took it away, speaking not a word. If she was angry with Lakshman, or Ram, or the monkeys, she did not show it. She had tried stopping her husband but knew that he would not be able to say no to his father. This was an eventuality she had been prepared for. She accepted her fate with grace.

  In one Bhil version of the tale, Kubera sends a magic potion to Lakshman to wash his eyes with, after using which he can see, and kill, the invisible Indrajit. Thus Kubera takes revenge on Ravana through Lakshman.

  Sulochana, known as Prameela in some retellings, emerges as a character in medieval literature. That Indrajit is associated with snake-arrows may have inspired the idea that he had a snake-wife.

  Indrajit’s wife performs sati: she burns herself on Indrajit’s funeral pyre. This practice, now illegal, was long considered the sign of a noble woman. Women across Maharashtra, Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka sing praises of Sati Sulochana.

  The story of Sati Sulochana has been made into many films, the first of which was a silent film in 1921. In 1934 it was the theme of the first Kannada talkie.

  Michael Madhusudan Dutt in the nineteenth century wrote the ballad Meghnad Badh Kavya in Bengali in the Homeric style, projecting Meghnad as an Indian version of the Greek hero Hector, who fights for the wrong side out of a sense of duty. Hector was the elder brother of the Trojan prince Paris who eloped with Helen, wife of Menelaus, and incurred the wrath of the Greeks. Hector did not like what his brother had done but still fought for him. Hector’s relationship with his wife, Andromache, is a loving one, just like the relationship between Indrajit and his wife, called Pramila in Madhusudan Dutt’s work. Hector was killed and his body desecrated by the Greek hero Achilles, until the king of Troy, Priam, came to him at night in disguise and begged him to release the body so that it could be cremated with dignity.

  Kumbhakarna

  ‘He has a brother who does not ever go to sleep. And I have a brother who sleeps all the time,’ yelled Ravana, remembering Kumbhakarna, his younger brother, who woke up just one day a year.

  Kumbhakarna’s tapasya had earned him a boon. He wanted to ask for the throne of Indra, but instead he asked for the throne of Nidra, the goddess of sleep, a slip of the tongue that led to him being asleep all year round. It was foretold that he would be invincible on the day he awoke but if his sleep was interrupted, he would be killed that very day.

  ‘My city is overrun by monkeys. My sons are dead. I cannot wait for Kumbhakarna to wake up at his leisure. He must be woken now,’ said Ravana.

  And so musicians with drums and blaring conch shells were sent to his chambers to create a cacophony that would force him to wake up. Servants poked and prodded Kumbhakarna with sharp implements in the hope that he would open his eyes. Nothing worked. Finally the most aromatic of foods were brought into his room, at the smell of which he stirred and finally woke up. ‘I guess my brother would rather I die than sleep,’ he said as he yawned and stretched himself.

  When he heard what had transpired while he was asleep, he knew what was expected of him – unquestioning obedience. So armed with weapons he entered the battlefield.

  The sight of this giant rakshasa frightened all the monkeys. Never had anyone seen anything as big as this creature. They hurled boulders at him. Kumbhakarna felt as if grains of sand were hitting him. They hurled trees at him. Kumbhakarna felt twigs and leaves were tickling him. When he roared, it sounded like a thunderclap. When he walked, it felt like an earthquake.

  Watching every monkey quiver in fear, Sugriva rushed towards Kumbhakarna but Kumbhakarna caught him by his tail and mocked his efforts. Not one to give up, Sugriva swung his body until he could grab Kumbhakarna’s ear. Then he bit it with such force that he tore the lobe. Kumbhakarna screamed in agony and let him go.

  Suddenly, the demon did not seem as invincible as before. With their faith renewed, the monkeys resumed their fight with vigour. And Ram mounted his bow to face this giant.

  No single arrow would kill Kumbhakarna. And so Ram shot arrows to break the demon down part by part. With one arrow he sliced off the left arm, with another the right arm, with the third his left leg, with the fourth his right leg, and with the fifth his head. The great giant, as foretold, was killed on the day his sleep was interrupted.

  The rakshasas wanted to blame Ram for his death but knew in their hearts it was the impatience of Ravana that had caused it.

  In the Valmiki Ramayana, Kumbhakarna is killed before Indrajit. But different retellings follow different sequences. In the Kashmiri Ramayana, Indrajit is killed first.

  Kumbhakarna has become a colloquial metaphor for a person who is forever sleeping.

  Before dying, Kumbhakarna begs that his head be thrown into the sea so that rakshasas cannot see his ears ripped to shreds by monkeys.

  A satellite peak on Mount Kanchenjunga in Nepal is named Kumbhakarna. It was here that Kumbhakarna’s head was supposed to have fallen after he was killed in battle.

  If Indrajit represents skill then Kumbhakarna represents brute force. In the Mahabharata, Arjuna is to Yudhisthira what Indrajit is to Ravana and Bhima is to Yudhisthira what Kumbhakarna is to Ravana. A king needs both, the skilled warrior and the strong warrior.

  At the culmination of the Ram-leela performance in North
India, the actor playing the role of Ram sets aflame the effigies of Ravana, Indrajit and Kumbhakarna. According to one theory, this practice was started in the Gangetic plains during medieval times as a symbolic act of rejecting Muslim rule.

  Taranisen

  Then a warrior entered the battlefield, the kind no monkey or Ram had seen before. He called himself Taranisen and every inch of his body was tattooed with the name of Ram. He led the rakshasas into the battlefield and under his leadership they fought like a pack of wolves determined to catch their prey.

  ‘How can I kill him? He worships me,’ said Ram. ‘Can I breach the fortress built using my name?’

  Vibhishana said, ‘Strike him in his mouth. Knock out his teeth and slice off his tongue for they are not marked with your name. That is the vulnerable spot.’

  ‘But he chants my name with great devotion.’

  ‘Strike in the pause between two chants,’ said Vibhishana.

  Ram did as he was told. And Taranisen was killed.

  ‘Is this Ravana’s son too?’ asked Ram.

  ‘No,’ said Vibhishana, tears streaming down his cheeks, ‘that is my son. Too loyal to leave his uncle, too angry to call me father.’

  The character Taranisen is found only in Krittivasa’s Ramayana.

  The Dandi Ramayana refers to Virabahu, son of Ravana, who is a great warrior as well as a great devotee of Ram. He fights Ram, defeats Ram, and then falls at Ram’s feet and wants Ram to cut off his head so that he can go to Vaikuntha, the abode of Vishnu, where one is liberated from the cycle of rebirths. Ram refuses. So he abuses Ram until Ram cuts his head off. This is an example of viparit-bhakti, reverse devotion, displaying devotion by mocking and taunting God.