The Ramayana

by Ramesh Menon

  28. Lakshmana and Rama

  It was noon of the next day when Sumantra’s chariot returned to Ayodhya, with a somber Lakshmana. They rode up to Rama’s palace and Lakshmana alighted at the steps. Wishing time would stop, he made his slow way into his brother’s presence. He entered Rama’s court, and tears sprang again in his eyes when he saw the king, who sat on his throne as if he were dead.

  Lakshmana knelt at Rama’s feet. He said in a barely audible voice, “I left her on the banks of the Ganga, near Valmiki’s asrama.”

  He looked up into Rama’s face, and his brother neither spoke nor stirred. He sat entirely absorbed by his grief. Lakshmana mumbled, “All this is fate, Rama. And you are no ordinary man, that sorrow should shake you. How often you have told me all things in this world are fleeting, and joy inevitably brings grief in its wake. No relationship in this world is permanent; not that of father and son, husband and wife, lover and beloved. But you are a great king. You are Rama; not even this final sorrow must leave its mark on you.”

  Rama saw how distraught, how terribly sad his brother was. He remembered all the times in the forest when he had lost his own composure and Lakshmana had consoled him, snatched him back from the lip of the abyss. Now Rama saw how much Lakshmana needed to be consoled himself. He stirred. He smiled wanly, and ran his hand through his trembling brother’s hair.

  Rama clasped Lakshmana to him and said, “Of course you are right. I am a king now; I must not let anything shake me. No, not even being parted from Sita. A king’s only dharma is the welfare of his people. They must rule whatever I do; my life belongs to them.”

  Hearing his brother speak, Lakshmana gradually stopped trembling. Rama held him, for a long time.1

  29. Stories in the night

  The two brothers spent the night together in the empty sabha. Grief held them close, like the night’s darkness. When they were boys, and later during Rama’s exile, Lakshmana always loved to listen to ancient tales from his brother. And this night, seeing how distraught Lakshmana was, Rama said to him, “Child, it is four days since I performed my dharma as a king. Do you know how King Nriga was cursed, because he paid no heed to two brahmanas who came to his gates?”

  Immediately, Lakshmana’s face brightened. Like a boy he said, “No, Rama. Tell me.”

  “Once, an age ago, there was a king called Nriga, a God among men. He was pure, and always spoke the truth. His fame spread from the mountains to the sea, and he was a protector of the world and of his people. His generosity was a legend not only on earth, but also in heaven. Why, he once gave away a million caparisoned cows, draped in precious jewels, as charity at a yagna he performed at Pushkara.

  “Among these cows was one he gave to the poor brahmana who lit the yagna fire. But as soon as the yagna was complete, the brahmana found his cow was missing. He set out in search of it, and roamed the length and breadth of Nriga’s kingdom, often ravaged by hunger and thirst; but he did not find any trace of the white cow the king had given him.

  “Finally, he arrived in Haridwara and walked on wearily to Kanakahala. There, he saw his cow in the yard of another brahmana, and now she had a lean, ill-fed calf beside her. Tears springing in his eyes, the brahmana called out to the cow, ‘Shabale! My daughter, I have found you.’

  “And she tossed her head in joy and ran out to him, with her calf at her heels. The brahmana stroked her face, her flanks, in absolute rapture. He set off for home, with his white cow and her calf. He was like a sacred flame, as he went, that brahmana. But then the other brahmana, in whose yard he had found his cow, came shouting after him, ‘Where are you taking my cow, you thief?’

  “The first brahmana replied hotly, ‘She is mine! The king himself gave her to me.’

  “But the second brahmana cried, ‘You are a liar! I found this cow abandoned on a roadside. I brought her home with me, and I have fed her and looked after her and her calf.’

  “They almost came to blows. Then the first brahmana said, ‘There is only one person who can settle this dispute: the king himself. Let us take our quarrel to him and do as he tells us to.’

  “The second brahmana agreed, ‘Let Nriga decide whose cow she is.’

  “So the two brahmanas set out for the king’s capital and his palace. They came to his gates, but found them barred. The guards said to them, ‘You cannot see the king now. He is busy.’

  “The brahmanas said, ‘We must see Nriga; we will wait for him. Please take word to him that we are here to see him on an urgent matter.’

  “Though they waited some days and nights outside Nriga’s palace, the king did not see them. Finally, in anger the brahmanas cursed Nriga: ‘You have forsaken your dharma as a king, that you do not care to see your subjects who come to petition you. Be a lizard, cowering in a hole. Be a lizard for a hundred thousand years. And one day, at the end of the dwapara yuga, when Vishnu is born into the world in the House of Yadu, he will free you from our curse. But only when Nara and Narayana are both born into the world to deliver it from the bondage of sin.’

  “With that, the two brahmanas presented their old and weak cow to a third brahmana, and walked away from that city, and, indeed, this world.”

  Rama said in the living night, “So, Lakshmana, no king should neglect his dharma, for his people are his first and only dharma.”

  Lakshmana said, “That was a harsh curse for so small a crime, Rama. What did Nriga do?”

  “Nriga was aghast when he heard of the brahmanas’ curse. But he was a rajarishi, and controlled his grief. Calmly, he had his young son, Vasu, crowned king. Then he ordered his artisans to build him a marvelous pit below the earth, protected from the cold and the rain, and pave it with the brightest jewels. He had a secret garden fashioned above the ground, and the finest fruit and flowering trees planted in it, among which he could bask in summer.

  “He blessed his son, and told him to be always attentive to the needs of his subjects. Then Nriga entered his secret hideaway, and at once he felt himself being transformed by the brahmanas’ curse. He felt himself becoming a great monitor lizard. And, my brother, Nriga of old still dwells in his secret hideaway, that no man knows, and he waits for a dark savior to be born into the world. But, Lakshmana, that time is still very far.”

  Lakshmana laid his head in his brother’s lap and sighed. When Rama had finished his strange tale and fell silent, it seemed the night’s immense grief closed around them again, reaching for them with cold fingers. The breeze that stole in through an open window sobbed in the dark.

  Lakshmana shivered. He rose and shut the window. He came back to his brother, and sat at his feet again. Rama was truly like a God now, so serene was he. Still, his sorrow filled the night like a sea. The brothers sat thus, in silence, for a long time. Then, Lakshmana whispered, “Rama, tell me another story.”

  Rama smiled. “Have I told you about King Nimi of our line and how he cursed our kulaguru, Rishi Vasishta, and how Vasishta cursed him?”

  “Perhaps you have. But tell me again, Rama.”

  “Nimi was the twelfth son of Ikshvaku. He, too, was a rajarishi. He founded a city as splendid as Amravati, near Rishi Gautama’s asrama, and he called it Vaijayanta, city of victory. When he had finished building, Nimi thought he must perform a yagna to please his father. He went to Manu’s son, Ikshvaku, and asked if he could undertake the sacrifice. With his father’s consent, Nimi began to prepare for the yagna.

  “First, he chose Brahma’s son Vasishta to be his chief priest. Then he asked Atri, Angiras, and Bhrigu, also, to sit over his yagna. But Vasishta said to Nimi, ‘Indra has already asked me to be his ritvik. I beg you, wait until I finish Indra’s yagna before you begin your sacrifice.’

  “Nimi agreed. But when Vasishta went to Amravati, the impatient king asked Gautama to be his main ritvik, until Vasishta returned. King Nimi’s yagna was soon begun, outside Vaijayanta, in the lap of the Himalaya. Nimi was consecrated as the sacrificer and his yagna would last five thousand years.

  “Mean
while, as soon as Indra’s yagna was completed in Devaloka, Vasishta returned to the earth and to Vaijayanta. He found that Nimi’s yagna was already under way, with Gautama as the ritvik. Vasishta trembled with anger. He asked to meet the king, and sat for a muhurta before the yagnashala. But Nimi was exhausted that day and he had gone to sleep.

  “Vasishta’s rage grew, and he cursed Nimi: ‘May you lose your body, vain and treacherous kshatriya!’

  “When Nimi heard of Vasishta’s curse, he also cursed the brahmarishi, crying, ‘You defile yourself with anger, Vasishta. I curse you, that you will also lose your splendid body!’

  “And so, Lakshmana, both the king and the rishi lost their bodies. They became forms of air. Vasishta flew up to his father, Brahma, and said, ‘Pitamaha, how can I fulfill my destiny in the world when I have lost my body, which was created from your immaculate thought? I beg you, O Hiranyagarbha, let me have a body again.’

  “Brahma said, ‘There will soon be occasion for Mitra and Varuna to spill their seed. Enter that seed, my son, and you will have a body again. You shall not be born of a woman’s womb, so your life will still be mine to influence.’

  “Vasishta bowed to the Creator, and he flew away in his spirit body to the Kshirasagara, where Varuna, Lord of all oceans, dwells, and is worshipped by the four Lokapalas. It happened that the Deva Mitra was there as well, sharing in his friend Varuna’s sovereignty. Vasishta arrived in Varuna’s submarine kingdom, and awaited his chance.

  “Not a day had passed when the apsara Urvashi came to Varuna’s realm with her sakhis. She was seductive past reason, she was beautiful past imagining, and the good Lord Varuna was smitten! Varuna found her alone in a secluded grotto, where she had been bathing, naked, and he said hoarsely to her, ‘There is no one as lovely as you are in the three worlds, Urvashi. Ah, I must hold you in my arms, apsara, I must feel your body under mine.’

  “She flushed, and said to the aroused Deva, ‘My lord, I have come here to meet your friend Mitra, for I have already promised myself to him. He is my lover now; I cannot betray him.’

  “But Varuna was beside himself. The white sea swelled around them in mountainous tides at the desire he felt for her. He was past helping himself; he shook with lust. He must have some release, or he would drown the world in his despair.

  “He said, ‘You see how I am, apsara. I beg you, if you cannot make love at least help me to some release. At least touch me, Urvashi, and I will spill my seed into this urn.’

  “She was not so cruel that she would refuse him this. She laid her exquisite hands on him, and he ejaculated like a tide of flames into the golden urn. She vanished from there, a fragrant mist, to where Mitra, her lover, waited for her. But even as they made love, Mitra felt that the touch of another Deva had been upon her. Pulling away, the Deva Mitra, also, ejaculated outside Urvashi’s enchanting body, into the golden urn that appeared, fatefully, to receive his seed.”

  By now the story absorbed them, and for the moment, grief seemed distanced. Rama said, “It was the same golden urn into which both Varuna and Mitra spilled their seed. There was a blaze of light from the urn, when Mitra’s seed fell onto Varuna’s, and a rishi of blinding splendor rose from that urn. He was Agastya; bowing to both Urvashi and the God Mitra, that already realized sage sought the Himalaya to sit in tapasya.

  “No sooner had the peerless Agastya vanished than Vasishta, who had subtly entered the golden urn in his spirit body, rose, embodied and resplendent from the mingled seed of Mitra and Varuna. He stood with folded hands before Urvashi and her lover and said, ‘Mitra Deva, I am not only your son!’

  “And he vanished from there. Mitra now saw clearly in his mind’s eye what had transpired between Urvashi and Varuna. He cried in despair, ‘Unfaithful woman, I curse you to live half a mortal life in the world of men! Go down to the earth and be the wife of Pururavas of Kasi.’

  “Pururavas was Budha’s son, and by Mitra’s curse Urvashi became his queen for a time. In his city, Pratishtana, she bore him a son of great prowess, called Ayu. Ayu’s son was Nahusha, who was hardly less glorious than Indra; and, indeed, Nahusha ruled Devaloka for a hundred thousand years, when Indra was cursed after he killed Vritrasura treacherously.

  “When she had lived with Pururavas for some years on earth, Mitra’s curse ended and Urvashi returned to Devaloka, to Indra’s realm, where she is a dancer in his court.”

  Lakshmana wanted to know, “What happened to Nimi, Rama?”

  “When Vasishta had his new body, Ikshvaku asked him to be the kulaguru of the royal House of the Sun, this ancient house of ours.

  “As for Nimi, the rishis at his yagna saw the king had died. They embalmed his body in oils to preserve it. They clothed him in white silks and draped garlands made from unfading flowers over him. Then they completed the yagna he had begun, and Bhrigu spoke to the king’s spirit that hovered over the yagnashala as a shimmering vapor.

  “‘The Devas are pleased with you, Kshatriya. If you like, I can fetch your soul back into your body. Otherwise, I can bless you so you will dwell anywhere you choose. Ask for any boon you want.’

  “But having tasted the freedom of death, Nimi did not want to be imprisoned in a single body any more. He said from the air, ‘Holy ones, let me dwell in the eyelids of every living being. Let me see all the earth at once. But first, let me have a son to rule my kingdom.’

  “The rishis and Devas blessed King Nimi of old that he would live as subtle air in the eyelids of all the living, and when he stirred in their eyes, they would blink. Lakshmana, before King Nimi of old lost his body, no living creature blinked.

  “When the Devas had blessed Nimi, they vanished. And now, the holy rishis began to rub the king’s lifeless body with their hands, as if they were rubbing arani sticks to make fire. They chanted secret mantras as they did this. Soon, Nimi’s corpse was as hot as fire and suddenly a child sprang from it.

  “The munis called that child Videha, since he had been born from a dead body. They also named him Mithi, since he had been born at their rubbing Nimi’s corpse. Since he had no mother, he was called Janaka, and his city was named Mithila, where Mithi ruled.”

  Now Rama’s eyes filled; for, of course, he spoke of Sita’s father.

  30. Sukra curses Yayati

  Lakshmana said, “Why did Nimi and Vasishta curse each other, Rama? How is it such great men were not more forgiving?”

  Rama said, “Forgiveness often deserts the greatest men, when they are tested with anger. Would you hear the story of Yayati?”

  Lakshmana nodded eagerly.

  Rama began yet another tale of ancient times. “Yayati was a king in the royal House of Soma. He was Nahusha’s son, and he was a sovereign without equal in his time. He had two wives, each one as beautiful, accomplished, and virtuous as the other. The first was Sarmishta and she was Diti’s own granddaughter, Vrishaparva’s child. Yayati loved Sarmishta dearly, like his very life.

  “His second wife was Devayani, to whom the king was indifferent, though she was in no way inferior to Sarmishta. In time, two sons were born to Yayati, one to each of his wives. Sarmishta bore Puru, and Devayani, Yadu. Yayati, of course, openly preferred Puru, since he was Sarmishta’s son, and neglected Yadu.

  “As Yadu grew up, he saw how unhappy his mother was. One day, he said to Devayani, ‘You are the great Sukra’s daughter. How do you tolerate being treated so wretchedly in your own husband’s house? The king does not care if you live or die, mother. He is my father, as much as he is Puru’s; but he has time only for my brother. I am treated like an unwelcome guest in this house, often like a servant. You may be able to bear this, but not I. I mean to put an end to myself.’

  “In anguish, Devayani invoked her father, the awesome Sukracharya, the guru of the Asuras, who, being Bhrigu’s son, is also called Bhargava. Sukra appeared before his distraught daughter and asked the cause of her misery. However, she would only shake her lovely head, as tears flowed down her face, and say, ‘I mean to drink poison
, or drown myself.’

  “Repeatedly, Bhargava asked her, ‘But tell me what the matter is, my child. You have never complained before.’

  “Finally, she broke down and cried, ‘You do not know how I am treated in this house. My husband humiliates my son and me. He always prefers Sarmishta and her Puru, and ignores Yadu and me.’

  “Sukra Bhargava’s eyes turned red as blood. He went to Yayati and cursed him: ‘You have tormented my daughter. Be an old man from this moment. May your body lose its strength and may you be impotent!’

  “And Sukracharya stormed out of Yayati’s city. The moment Usana pronounced his curse, the mighty Yayati felt his limbs grow weak. He felt vast age upon him. His hair turned white, his skin became wrinkled, and he felt many thousands of years old.

  “Yayati called for his son Yadu and said, ‘I have become an old man by your grandfather’s curse. But I have not satisfied my desires; they burn like fire within me. My righteous son, lend me your youth so I can enjoy my life and grow old naturally.’

  “But Yadu said to him, ‘How is it, father, that you have remembered me today? Puru is your son whom you love. Ask him to give you his youth.’

  “Yayati called for Puru and asked him for his youth. Without a moment’s hesitation, Puru said, ‘I am honored that I can serve you. Take my youth and let me be old in your place.’

  “So it was. Yayati shed his unnatural age, and Puru received it like a blessing, while he gave his virile youth to his father. Now the son was an old man and the father a young one. Yayati ruled the earth and lived a full life for many thousands of years. He performed a hundred aswamedhas and rajasuyas.

  “One day, he called Puru and said, ‘My son, give me back the age I burdened you with so long ago. And receive your youth back from me. You, my faithful child, shall be king.’