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The Ramayana

Page 29

by Ramesh Menon


  “I can see your bows were not fashioned in this world. I am sure, when you loose them, your arrows are of light and flames; and your swords are like serpents slumbering at your sides. Hanuman sees a great deal, Kshatriyas, because his eyes are clever. But I must not be rude, asking all these questions and saying nothing about myself. I can see you are not merely good men, but uncommonly good men. I will tell you who I am, as my master instructed me to if I found you were good.”

  He went on, without drawing breath. “There is a just and valiant king of the vanaras called Sugriva. He was driven out of his kingdom by his brother, and Sugriva now lives upon this Rishyamooka in fear. I am his minister Hanuman, whom he sent to make friends with you. Yes, I am a monkey too. I became a brahmana to approach you, and to discover if you were good men or not. You see, I am Vayu’s son and can assume any form I please.”

  And he stood smiling benignly at them. Rama gave a delighted cry when he heard who the little brahmana was. He took Lakshmana aside, and said, “How refined his voice is; how beautifully he speaks. Surely, he is a scholar of the Vedas. Nobody who does not have a sincere heart can speak so well. This Hanuman speaks from his heart, and he is intelligent and able. Sugriva is fortunate to have such a minister; success will attend all his endeavors.”

  Lakshmana came back to Hanuman and said, “We have already heard of your master Sugriva. Indeed, we climb this mountain to seek him out and have his friendship. We trust you, O Hanuman, and we will do as you tell us.”

  Hanuman clapped his hands happily, and the thought flashed through his mind that these princes had come seeking Sugriva with some woe of their own. Surely then, they could help his master against Vali.

  Hanuman looked at Rama and said, “But how is it you wander these dangerous jungles that teem with wild beasts and rakshasas? Forgive me, Kshatriyas, for asking so many questions. But I am a monkey and my curiosity gets the better of me.”

  Lakshmana glanced at Rama, and his brother nodded that Hanuman might be told everything. Lakshmana said to the little brahmachari, “There was an emperor called Dasaratha who ruled the kingdom of the north called Kosala. He was a king of dharma and never strayed from the truth. This dark prince is his eldest son Rama. Rama’s honesty and valor are a legend. But because of an old vow, Dasaratha sent his precious son into the jungle for fourteen years.

  “For his father’s sake, Rama went gladly to the vana. I am Lakshmana, his younger brother, as you rightly guessed. I came with him because he is my life and my God. But not just we two came to the forest: my brother’s chaste wife, Sita, was with us. Ten days ago, a rakshasa abducted Sita from our asrama in Panchavati in the Dandaka vana.

  “We came south in search of Sita, and in the Krauncharanya we came upon Dhanu, who told us to come to Rishyamooka and seek out Sugriva. Our destiny led this way, said Dhanu, and your king would help us. As you see, my brother is grief-stricken. If he can, let Sugriva help Rama who once needed nobody’s help; but time has brought him to this sorry pass.”

  Hanuman saw that though Lakshmana spoke with restraint, and formally, his eyes filled with tears as he told their tale. Hanuman laid a hand on the prince’s arm. He said, “Sugriva will be honored to help one so noble as I see your brother is. Come, let me take you to him, for you have much in common. He was driven from his kingdom by his brother Vali, and his wife was taken from him as well. Sugriva will help you. I, Hanuman, give you my word on it.”

  Lakshmana went back to Rama and said softly, “I trust this son of Vayu. Shall we go with him?”

  Even as Rama nodded, Hanuman was a monkey again before their eyes: a towering vanara, tall as a tree! He scooped them up easily in his arms, set them on his wide back and set off up Rishyamooka for Sugriva’s cave.

  Sugriva stood at the cave mouth. His face was strained and his eyes were full of fear, so Rama immediately felt compassion for him. Hanuman set them down and said, “This is Rama, a noble kshatriya in exile.”

  Quickly, Hanuman drew the doubtful Sugriva into the cavern and told him the princes’ story. As he spoke, the monkey king’s face cleared of anxiety and his eyes shone in hope. Hanuman said, “And so, my lord, they have come to meet you.”

  Sugriva emerged from the cave and embraced Rama and Lakshmana.

  2. A friendship sworn

  Sugriva said warmly to Rama, “I have heard of your valor. It is my good fortune that brings you to Rishyamooka; you would honor me by being my friend.”

  He held out his hand. Rama took it, and they embraced again. At once Hanuman produced two arani twigs and lit a fire. He worshipped the flames with flowers and other jungle offerings. Hand in hand, Rama and Sugriva walked round the agni to solemnize their friendship. In the age-old way of the vanaras, they chanted together, “You are my friend. From now on we share everything, joy and sorrow.”

  They embraced again and there was a feeling of great auspiciousness upon them, of a friendship well struck up. Sugriva broke a branch from a sala tree. He laid it on the ground and made Rama sit on it. At once, Hanuman tore another branch from a sandalwood tree and set it down for Lakshmana, who smiled at his thoughtfulness.

  But then Sugriva’s eyes were full again, and he said to his new friend, “Rama, I am a miserable monkey. With fists like iron and fangs like daggers, my brother Vali drove me from my kingdom. And he has taken my wife, Ruma, for himself. Because of a rishi’s curse, he may not set foot on this mountain, and I have sought shelter here. But my courage is broken and every breath I draw is in fear.” He looked pleadingly at Rama. “Help me, my friend, I seek refuge in you.”

  With piteous little cries, he bent himself at the prince’s feet. Rama was moved. By Sugriva’s gentle appearance, he felt certain the monkey king’s cause was just. He said, “Sugriva, I will kill your brother for you.”

  Sugriva danced for joy. “With your coming, Rama, I have hope again! I feel certain I will gain my kingdom back, and my wife. You shall be the end of my fear. After years, I will sleep in peace, without being tormented by dreams of death.”

  As Rama and Sugriva spoke, far away in Lanka, Sita’s left eye, like a lotus petal, throbbed; and Vali’s tawny eye in Kishkinda; and Ravana’s coppery one as well.

  Sugriva said, “Hanuman told me about you, Rama: how your Sita was kidnapped. My friend, whether she is hidden in Patala or in Swarga, I swear my people will find her for you.” He smiled at the prince and stroked his cheek. Then he continued, “Have no doubt fate intended our paths to cross. Let me tell you what we saw a few days ago. We sat on the loftiest branches of that sala tree when, suddenly, the sky above was rent with the shrill cries of a woman. When we turned our eyes up, we saw a strange sight. A rakshasa, dark as a raincloud and as big, flew across the firmament. As the thundercloud does the streak of lightning, he held a beautiful woman in the crook of his arm. She wriggled like a queen of serpents to get free, but he held her fast. She cried, ‘Rama! Lakshmana!’ and we did not know who she was, or to whom she called. But all at once, a little bundle fell on us out of the sky. It was her ornaments, tied in yellow silk. We kept the bundle safely, in case anyone came for it.”

  Rama was on his feet. “Why didn’t you tell me before? Show me the bundle, Sugriva!”

  One of the monkeys loped into the cave and brought back a silken bundle. With trembling hands, Rama took it from the vanara. He saw at once that it was Sita’s. He touched it to his eyes, and undid the knotted square of silk. When he saw the ornaments inside, poor Rama fainted.

  The monkeys sprang away to fetch water to revive the stricken kshatriya. Slowly, at Sugriva’s long-fingered ministrations, he regained consciousness. Rama held the jewels out to Lakshmana and said, “My eyes are blurred, child, but I think these are her ornaments. Do you recognize them?”

  Lakshmana said quietly, “I don’t know the bangles and the necklace, but the anklets are Sita’s. All these years, I saw them every morning when I knelt at her feet and she blessed me.”

  Rama sat up; his face was grim. He said to Sugriva,
“Tell me more about the demon who took my Sita from me. Tell me where he lives and I will go and send him to Yama’s city.”

  Sugriva, who was a loving and kindly monkey, wiped his own eyes. He touched Rama’s arm and said gently, “I know nothing else, Rama, only that he was a rakshasa. But I swear to you, I will discover everything there is to know about him. Sooner than you think, Sita will be with you again and you will be rid of your grief. Calm yourself, my prince, sorrow does not suit you.”

  Rama was so touched at Sugriva’s solicitude he fell quiet. He even managed a wan smile, and said, “I am sorry, my friend. Your concern warms my heart; and my heart tells me that, like seeds sown in fertile ground, your words will bear rich harvest. In adversity it is rare and fortunate to find a friend like you. From now, I depend on you to find Sita for me. And I swear to you on our friendship, I will do anything to make you happy, anything to remove your own sorrow.”

  Sugriva cried, “The Gods smile on me at last, that they brought you to me. Looking at you, I feel that with your love I can have heaven for the asking. What then is a mere monkey kingdom? I have your friendship sworn by a sacred fire; I could have no greater blessing. I will help you, Rama. I swear it in the name of our friendship.”

  3. The vanara brothers

  For some time, Sugriva and Rama spoke together. Slowly Rama’s composure returned, as if seeing someone else who suffered as much as he did restored his equanimity. Rama, Sugriva, Lakshmana, and Hanuman sat in a circle on branches laid on the ground. Now it was the vanara king’s turn to recount his tale of woe.

  “For years, since he chased me out of Kishkinda, I have lived in mortal fear of Vali. From forest to forest I fled, until I arrived here in Rishyamooka where he cannot come. But even here my mind is not at rest. Rama, I see my wife in my brother’s arms and that vision torments me. I have nightmares in which Vali stalks me through evil forests. He ambushes me under eerie trees, cuts my throat, and drinks my blood. I cannot bear it any more. I must have peace of mind again, or I will go mad.”

  Rama said, “You are my friend and your grief is mine. Your brother is no brother any more, but an enemy.” He laid his silver quiver before the vanara. “Look at my eagle-feathered arrows. Vali shall feel their points, Sugriva; he will lie dead at your feet.”

  Sugriva embraced the kshatriya and said, “He drove me from my throne and my kingdom. He imprisoned all my people who were loyal to me. He sent his own vanaras after me into the jungle; but we five killed them. When I first saw you climbing the mountain, I thought he had now found the help of men to hunt me. When I saw your weapons, I was sure you had come to kill me. How grief dements one: a man in dread is afraid of the breeze that blows by him. Rama, my days have been so dark that only the comfort of these four friends has kept me alive.”

  “Tell me more about Vali.”

  “He is my older brother. He was my father’s favorite and I was devoted to him. When our father died Vali was crowned king, and no one was as pleased as I was. In those days we were united and happy.” He sighed, remembering.

  “In our forest, there was an Asura called Mayavi. For many years there was enmity between Mayavi and Vali, over a woman. One night Mayavi came to our city gates, roaring to my brother to come out and fight. When Vali heard the demon, he sprang from his bed.

  “His wives and I begged him not to go out after the Asura at that hour; but he would not listen. I went with him. When Mayavi saw the two of us come out together, he ran. The night was lit by a full moon and we chased him easily through the pale forest.

  “The Asura ran a long way, with Vali and me in pursuit, until suddenly he vanished before our eyes. He had run into a cave.

  “Vali’s blood was up. He cried, ‘I am going in after him. Wait here until I return. Guard the cave mouth, Sugriva, let no one past you. I must kill him tonight!’

  “He went in and then all was quiet. Rama, not for an hour or a day did I wait there for Vali, but a whole month. I ate whatever fruit I could pluck from the trees around me, and I waited in terror of what went on within the black cavern. But I did not leave my place.

  “One day, I saw blood come seeping from the cave, and with it, I heard my brother’s voice crying out in what I was sure were his death throes. I was terrified that the Asura would come and kill me also. I rolled a boulder across the cave mouth; with tears streaming down my face, I offered tarpana to Vali’s spirit and came back to Kishkinda.

  “At first I told no one anything; but slowly they prized the truth from me. Our ministers decided they would crown me king in my brother’s place. For some weeks, I ruled Kishkinda peacefully; then Vali came back! You should have seen his face when he found me on the throne. I fell at his feet, and cried, ‘How lucky I am that you have returned. Here, take the throne; it is yours.’

  “I told him how I had waited outside the cave for a month; how blood flowed out one day and I heard what I thought were his dying cries. I told him of my fear of the Asura, who had slain as great a warrior as my brother, and how I rolled the boulder across the cave mouth and went home. Seeing his suspicious, angry face, I begged him not to doubt me.

  “But Vali mocked me in court. ‘This traitor told you only half the story. After a month’s battle, I slew the Asura and it was his blood that flowed from the cave. But when I tried to come out, I found its mouth sealed with a boulder. I was too weak to move it and I called Sugriva’s name; but there was no reply. I wandered through a maze of caves, seeking a way out; I could not find any. One day, when I had recovered my strength, I smashed the rock with my fist and here I am. And what do I find here, but this wretch upon my throne!’

  “Vali threw the ministers who had crowned me into prison. He tried to have me killed, but I fled Kishkinda. He chased me through five forests, until I heard that by a rishi’s curse he cannot set foot on Rishyamooka. My friends and I came here and took shelter. But I live in dread. I can still see my brother’s blazing eyes, seeking me in the dark to have done with me.”

  Sugriva sobbed.

  Rama said quietly, “It is plain that only Vali’s death will bring you peace. And I swear to you, he will die.”

  4. Dundubhi

  But Sugriva said, “Rama, my brother is no ordinary vanara. He can leap across the sea; he can break a peak from a mountain and cast it into the waves. When we roamed the jungle together, in our happier days, he would draw out great trees by their roots, in exuberance, as if they were blades of grass.

  “Once, many years ago, there was another Asura called Dundubhi. He was as strong as a thousand elephants. He had sat long years in tapasya and had a boon of strength from Brahma. Dundubhi came to the ocean and cried to Varuna, ‘Come out and fight. I can find no one else strong enough to do battle with!’

  “But Varuna knew about Brahma’s boon, and replied, ‘You are too strong for me, Dundubhi. In the quarter of the Gods there is a mountain called Himavan. He is the lord of all mountains; he will fight you.’

  “Like an arrow, Dundubhi flew to the Himalaya. He plucked off a few peaks from that icy range and hurled them down or smashed them to dust with terrific fists. Himavan appeared upon his loftiest massif, like a great white cloud. Like thunder, he said to the Asura, ‘Why do you disturb my peace? I am a tapasvin and know nothing of war. I cannot fight you.’

  “Dundubhi roared, ‘Like it or not, you shall fight me! Or you must find someone else who will.’

  “Himavan said, ‘In the south, there is a beautiful city called Kishkinda. Vali the vanara rules it. He is Indra’s son. You shall have little satisfaction from water, rocks, or trees. But Vali will give you the fight you crave.’

  “Dundubhi assumed his favorite fighting form: a stupendous bull bison’s. He flew through the air like a thundercloud in a storm and reached Kishkinda at twilight. At the gates of our city, he roared his challenge to Vali. He stood snorting and lowing horribly, and pawing the earth. When he bellowed, he sounded just like a grating dundubhi.

  “Vali was in his harem when the Asura
challenged him. He came storming out to the palace gates, bringing his women with him, his arms still around them. He cried, ‘Stop your bellowing, Asura! Leave my gates if you love your life.’

  “But Dundubhi had come for battle, and he replied, ‘You can boast before your women if it makes you feel bold. You can even have a whole night with them; I can wait until morning. Just remember to indulge yourself to your heart’s content, because this will be your last night on earth.’

  “Vali bared his fangs and snarled at the Asura. To provoke him, Dundubhi cried, ‘Himavan said you would give me a good fight. Looking at you, I doubt it. But we shall see as soon as you come out from behind your women’s skirts.’

  “Vali grew very still. He led his women back to the harem. Putting on the golden garland his father Indra once gave him, he came forth, chattering his rage as we vanaras do. Horns and long, mighty arms locked; they wrestled and gored and struck each other so savagely the earth shook around them. But slowly, that immense Asura, the bison, lost ground to my brother. With a ringing cry, Vali lifted the demon into the air and dashed him on the ground, and again, and again; until life fled his shattered body and Dundubhi lay dead at Vali’s feet. The jungle rang with Vali’s roars.

  “But my brother was not satisfied, as if he wished he could have had a longer battle with Dundubhi. Still beating his chest, dancing, he lifted up the Asura’s body once more. Whirling it round over his head, he flung it into the sky. It flew aloft for yojanas. But when it flew over Pampa and Rishyamooka, the black blood from the demon’s corpse fell on Matanga’s rishis. When the carcass struck the earth, the sage’s precious trees and plants, which he thought of as his own children, were crushed.

  “With mystic sight, Matanga saw who had done this. He cursed my brother: ‘Let Vali and his vanaras die if they set foot in this forest or the mountain above my asrama.’

  “All Vali’s vanaras in the jungle around the asrama came scurrying back to Kishkinda. He was amazed to see them swarm to him in such panic. They cried out all together, so he could not make head or tail of what they said. He roared at them to be quiet.

 

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