by Ramesh Menon
Bharata folded his hands, and said, “All this earth and all fame have their source in you; you are the highest dharma. Every king of the earth looks up to you as the Devas do to Brahma. They look up to you as sons to their father. Rama, if a king like you undertakes the rajasuya, if a king like you sheds the blood of other kshatriyas and brings grief to their families, will that be dharma?
“If Rama destroys the peace of the earth, a tide of wrath will rise and sweep us all away. All the kshatriyas of the earth are already loyal to you, Rama; you must not challenge them in war.”
Rama took Bharata’s hand and said, “How wisely you speak, my brother! What you say is dharma, indeed. No, I will not perform the rajasuya. I will not provoke the kings of the earth, demean them, or force them to protect their honor in war. The wise never do anything that brings grief to the world. What the young say must be followed if they speak wisely. You are right, Bharata, I will do as you say.”
Then Lakshmana said, “Perform the aswamedha instead, Rama. The yagna is the purifier of all the wise; let it be yours as well. You know how Indra himself was cleansed of the sin of Brahmahatya, when he performed the aswamedha yagna.”
Rama said with a smile, “Remind us of it again, Lakshmana.”
Lakshmana said keenly, “In the eldest days, Diti had a son called Vritra. Vritra was an Asura, a hundred yojanas tall. He ruled the earth, once, with dharma and compassion. And during his reign, Bhumi Devi yielded the most abundant flowers, fruit, and roots, ever. With dharma, Vritrasura’s kingdom flourished.
“Then, that great and pious demon thought to himself, ‘Only tapasya yields the highest joy. Every other pleasure is illusory.’
“He entrusted his kingdom to his eldest son, Madhureswara, and sat in a truly searing tapasya upon the mountain. While Vritra performed his penance, Indra grew afraid in Devaloka. Indra went to Vishnu and said, ‘Already, I cannot subdue Vritrasura. If his tapasya continues, he will become Lord of the three worlds and of every creature in them. Precious Hari, how do you allow this Asura to flourish? It is because he has your blessing that no one can curb him. I beg you, kill this demon; only you can any more.’”
Lakshmana paused, and he was flushed with happiness at narrating the timeless legend. Rama said indulgently, “And how did Vritra die?”
“All the Devas echoed Indra’s misery, and Vishnu said to them, ‘It is true that once Vritra had my blessing, and that was for your own welfare, O Devas, to make you humble. But now his time has come. I will make myself three, so Indra can kill the Asura. One part of me will enter Indra himself; another shall infuse his vajra; and the third, the very earth. Vritrasura, master of the worlds, shall die.’
“The Devas bowed low before Mahavishnu and they went to have a final reckoning with the demon. They found Vritra at his tapasya, which was so intense it seemed he would drink down all creation into his spirit. His body seemed like a golden mountain, on fire. The Devas looked at him and shivered. They whispered among themselves, ‘How will we kill this awesome one?’
“But, murmuring a prayer to Vishnu, Indra cast his vajra at the meditating Asura. The thunderbolt of a thousand joints, charged with Vishnu’s power, struck Vritrasura’s great head from its neck, and it fell upon the earth like the pralaya. Indra fled from there in terror, to the ends of the world, sobbing; for his sin of killing a brahmana pursued him in a dreadful form of flames. Indra transformed himself into a water snake and hid in the Manasarovara, in the stem of a lotus. He dared not emerge, he dared not stir, and Devaloka had no ruler.
“Now Agni and the other Devas sat in a fervid tapasya to Mahavishnu. They said again and again, ‘You are the Primal Person, the First One, Un-born, omnipotent, the father of us all, the savior of us all: save our king, O Vishnu; his Brahmahatya pursues him relentlessly and even we do not know where he has hidden himself.’
“Vishnu said to the Devas, ‘You must perform the aswamedha yagna. It is the only way to save the thousand-eyed one from his sin.’
“Vishnu himself performed the horse sacrifice along with the Devas. At the end of the solemn yagna, the Brahmahatya, who had been pursuing Indra so remorselessly, came before blue Vishnu, and pleaded, ‘I beg you, Lord of Gods, give me sanctuary. Your yagna scathes me and I fear for my life.’
“Vishnu said to the spirit of the Brahmahatya, ‘Divide yourself in four, O Spirit, and live in four places.’
“And one amsa of the hatya dwelt in the world, for four months of the year, the monsoon, to break the pride of sinners. Its second part dwelt in the earth. Its third possessed young women, who were arrogant of their beauty, for three nights. And its last and fourth part possessed and tormented murderers, especially the killers of brahmanas.
“Indra was rid of that scorching, ineluctable spirit, and returned to assume his throne that the worlds worship, in Amravati, the deathless city. Swarga, Bhumi, and Patala grew calm again; the spirit of chaos that had verged on creation disappeared.”
Lakshmana paused and slowly drew in a deep breath. He was a self-conscious storyteller, and, blushing slightly, concluded with some solemnity, “Rama, that is how powerful the aswamedha yagna is. It took his dreadful sin from Indra, who had killed Vritrasura when he sat in dhyana. It will certainly wash the sin of killing Sambuka from you. Perform the sacrifice of the horse, my lord: all our salvations depend on it.”
37. The tale of Ila
Rama laughed softly when Lakshmana finished his earnestly told tale. The king ruffled his brother’s hair like a boy’s, and said, “Have you heard the story of Ila?”
Lakshmana said eagerly, “No, Rama. Who was she?”
Rama began, “In the eldest days, the Prajapati Kardama was king of Bahlika. He had conquered all the earth and ruled his people as if they were his own children. Kardama had honor among both Devas and Daityas, and the nagas, rakshasas, gandharvas, and even the secretive yakshas revered that king of dharma.
“Once, Kardama went hunting in the forest. Drunk with bloodlust, he killed thousands of innocent creatures in the jungle he had entered, without favor for species, age, sex, or size. Their screams rang under the sorrowing trees. Spraying the jungle with blood, Kardama arrived in its heart, the very place where once Siva’s son Karttikeya had been born.
“It happened that Siva himself was in that jungle’s heart, making love to Parvati. To please her, Siva had assumed a woman’s form and had come with her sakhis. They now sat together beside a hill stream that chatted its way through the deep vana. Uma sat on Siva’s lap, and she wore not a stitch upon her perfect body. And by Siva’s power, so Uma would not be seen naked by any male creature, every beast, bird, and even the plants of that impenetrable forest had become female, even the trees.
“Blood on his hands, steamy from his hunt, Kardama staggered into the glade where Parvati sat in her lord’s lap, her arms twined around his neck like vines. Instantly, the king, all his soldiers, and the horses they rode were transformed: they became women and mares. Kardama felt the change come over him. He knew Siva had done this, and he trembled.
“Kardama and his men petitioned the Lord, the blue-throated, serpent-adorned Mahadeva. They came and fell at his feet. Siva said to the son of the Prajapati, ‘Arise, Rajarishi, and ask me for any boon, except your manhood.’
“Kardama remained mute; he asked for nothing. Then he remembered Uma always bestowed one half of every boon that Siva granted. Kardama came sobbing, as a woman, before the mountain’s daughter, and begged her, ‘Mother of worlds, bless me. Make me a man again.’
“Parvati laid her palm on Kardama’s head in blessing. The Devi said, ‘Only half of every boon is mine to bestow. So be a man for half your life.’
“Kardama cried in delight, ‘Anuttamaa, Peerless One, let me be a man for one month and a woman for the next.’
“Uma said, ‘So be it. And when you are a man, you shall not remember your womanhood; as, when you are a woman, you shall have no memory that you were a man. When you are a woman, Kardama, you will be known
as Ila.’
“And Siva and Uma vanished from there.”
Lakshmana asked breathlessly, “And how did Kardama live, Rama? When he was a king, and then when he was a woman? How did he live his life?”
“One day, Ila, the beautiful, seductive woman, came to a mountain in the midst of the forest of femininity. She saw a clear pool there, sparkling like a diamond. As she approached it, she saw the water shone strangely, with some other light than that of the sun above. It seemed as if the lotuses and water birds on the pool were also lit with this inner lambency.
“As Ila came nearer, she saw there was someone submerged in the pool. She gasped when she saw it was a Deva, surely, who sat in the water, obviously at tapasya. His body shone like a full moon. She did not know this, but that was Budha, Soma Deva’s son by Brihaspati’s wife Tara.
“Ila felt a fluid warmth fill her body. She turned away in shyness; but already the God in the pool had sensed the presence of the women. Budha opened his eyes and they fell on Ila. The Deva quivered; he had never seen anyone so exquisite in all his life. He had been with apsaras and naginas, with ethereal gandharvis; but the woman he saw now on the banks of the pool in which he sat in dhyana touched him as no other had before. There was a certain quality about her that no woman he had ever seen possessed.
“Just one thought filled his mind: ‘If she isn’t already given, I must make her mine.’
“Like the moon rising from the sea, he climbed out from the pool and came up to Ila’s companions. He said in his irresistible Deva’s voice, ‘Who is your friend? I have never seen anyone so beautiful. What is she doing here, in the heart of this vana? What are you doing here?’
“They replied, tittering, ‘She is our mistress, brilliant one. And we all live in this vana and roam through it together.’
“Budha, the intelligent, was puzzled: something about their story seemed strange and incomplete. The Deva softly chanted the avartani vidya, in his mind, and the occult stotra informed him about Kardama and his soldiers, and how Siva’s power had turned them into women. When he learned the fate of Kardama’s men, who had turned into women forever, Budha Deva was moved to pity.
“Budha blessed those women, saying, ‘Let your lives be fruitful and full of joy. Become kimpurushis from now. Live on fruit, roots, and herbs, and let the kinnaras of the mountain be your mates’
“Instantly, the women were turned into female fauns and they vanished into the forest, to find the magical kimpurushas, who are masters of riddles. When the shimmering fauns had gone, Budha turned with a smile to Ila. ‘Lovely one, I am Soma’s son Budha. Look on me with love in your eyes. I know all about you and I am determined to make you mine.’
“She flushed, she quivered with wanting him, and said softly, ‘I am yours, my lord, do what you will with me.’
“Soma took her in his glowing arms. He peeled away her single garment, and they lay together on the thick satin moss that grew beside the pool. Great Budha made love to his strange beloved for a month, without pause, and the month passed like a few delirious hours. Then, suddenly, Kardama awoke one morning, in the bed in the asrama, as if from a long sleep. He went out and found himself beside a clear pool, and he saw Budha Deva at dhyana, seated in the posture of the lotus upon the water, with no other support.
“Kardama did not remember how he came to be here; he remembered nothing of the curse of Siva, or of Ila. He asked Budha, ‘My lord Brahmana, I came into this jungle with my army. But I do not see any of my men. Do you know what happened to them?’
“Budha replied serenely, ‘Your men were all killed by a shower of rocks from heaven. But you fled into the asrama and fell asleep within. Take courage, O King, live here in this hermitage. There are roots, fruit, and game aplenty for you to feed yourself.’
“Kardama grew thoughtful for a moment, then said, ‘I will do as you say. But ah, I hardly want to live any more, when all my soldiers have perished. I have a noble son called Sasabindu; he will rule my kingdom.’
“And so it was. Whenever he was a man for a month, Kardama performed rigorous tapasya beside the forest pool, and served the meditating Budha; and when he was Ila, he made love with Soma Deva’s son. Soon enough, Ila conceived and gave birth to a splendid boy, who resembled his unearthly father and whom they named Pururava. By Budha’s power and Siva’s, even at the end of a year Kardama knew nothing about Ila.
“When Pururava was a year old, Budha called some of the world’s holiest rishis to the asrama. He called Samvarta, Bhrigu’s son Chyvana, Arishtanemi, the blithe and merry Pramodana, Modakara, and the awesome Durvasa. Pulastya, Kratu, and Vasatkara arrived in that secret hermitage, as well. Budha told them all who Ila really was. He showed them their son, and said, ‘My lords, you decide what Kardama must do next.’
“The rishis spoke among themselves briefly, then they said, ‘We will undertake an aswamedha for the sake of Kardama; no yagna pleases the Lord Siva as the horse sacrifice does’
“Samvarta, who was Brihaspati’s brother, reminded them, ‘Once, when my sishya, the king Marutta, performed the aswamedha, all his sins were washed from him, and he and his kingdom prospered.’
“So those munis undertook an aswamedha yagna in Kardama’s name. They sent a white horse across the lands, and finally sacrificed it in the vana, in Siva’s name. Siva appeared in a mass of light before those rishis and Ila. Laying his hand on her head, he gave Ila her manhood back, for good, and vanished from there. The aswamedha yagna completed, the rishis also left.
“Now Kardama was himself again, always, and he founded the city of Pratishtana in the heart of that forest and ruled from there for many years. Meanwhile, his son Sasabindu ruled over the old kingdom of Bahlika. Soon, Budha’s son Pururava grew into manhood, and Kardama gave his kingdom to the wonderful youth. Kardama himself sat in tapasya for some years and then gained Brahmaloka.
“This, my brothers, is another story that tells how powerful the aswamedha yagna is. Indeed, it is said to be the most auspicious and potent sacrifice in the world,” said Rama, his eyes alight at the thought of performing the noble yagna himself.
“Lakshmana, we must gather the greatest rishis of the world here in this sabha: Vasishta, Vamadeva, Jabali, Kashyapa, and the rest, from all the Pravaras. And with their blessings and guidance, I mean to loose a horse of the noblest pedigree across the land of Bharata.”
Lakshmana’s face shone at the prospect. He would not wait a moment, and cried, “Shall I fetch the brahmanas immediately?”
Smiling, Rama nodded that he might.
* * *
Very soon, those holy men of the earth were gathered like a constellation of stars in the ancient sabha of Ayodhya. Rama received each of them, washing their feet himself and offering them madhurparka. When they were all seated at the head of the sabha, Rama said simply, “My lords, I mean to perform an aswamedha yagna. I need your blessings.”
Each of those profound munis spoke in that sabha, turn by turn, and they were all delighted at what Rama planned. When they had finished, Rama turned in joy to Lakshmana. “My brother, send word to Sugriva in Kishkinda. Tell him what we mean to do, and tell him he must come to Ayodhya for the yagna, with his vanaras.
“Send word to Lanka, also; the sacrifice cannot begin until Vibheeshana is here with me. Let word be taken across all the kingdoms and let every king who calls himself my friend be at my side. Let every brahmana be invited, and let this aswamedha be not just for us but for the whole world’s sanctity. Let singers and dancers from all over the earth come to us now, and take part in our yagna.”
Lakshmana asked, “Where will we perform the yagna, Rama?”
His brother had already decided. “In the Naimisa vana, so all this earth may be blessed. Let any man, woman, or child who wants to be there come to my aswamedha. Every one shall find honor at our yagna; let no effort or expense be spared.”
Rama asked for royal dwellings to be built at the site of the yagna, for the kings and their entourages who would att
end the aswamedha. It is told a hundred thousand men carried the unbroken rice that would be used at the sacrifice. Another hundred thousand carried sesame seeds and beans, other grains, pulses, salt, oil, and spices.
Bharata led the party from Ayodhya that was dispatched to make the preparations. He took many millions of gold and silver coins from the treasury with him, by elephant, horse, and chariot, and in litters. Moving marketplaces, with their colorful stalls, went with Bharata, and throngs of cooks, actors, singers, dancers, and, inevitably, harems of lovely young women.
In time, all Ayodhya came streaming forth from the city gates, and flowed like a vivid river toward the Naimisa vana. Brahmanas walked in the interminable crowd and countless day laborers, carpenters, masons, tinkers, joiners, and men from every imaginable trade. Most went with their families. Kausalya, Sumitra, and Kaikeyi were borne to the sacred forest in golden litters. And in the most exquisite palanquin of all, another strange figure journeyed to Rama’s aswamedha: it was the kanchana Sita, the golden image of his wife fashioned for Rama by the world’s finest sculptors: the image he kept near him at all times and took with him wherever he went.
38. The aswamedha yagna
Rama, Lakshmana, Bharata, and Shatrughna entered the Naimisa vana. Sugriva’s vanaras arrived in their merry troops, and Vibheeshana and his rakshasas came with their legions and Jambavan with his great bears. They came with their women, exotic and striking. When the rishis who sat over the yagna had been worshipped, Rama sent a black horse of the finest bloodlines to run through the kingdoms of Bharatavarsha, challenging any king to stop its careen. Lakshmana rode behind that horse, with an army.
The kshatriyas of the earth heard about the aswamedha, and they began to arrive in the jungle with gifts and tribute, pledging their allegiance to Rama. He received them with honor, and their comfort was seen to by his brothers and ministers, and by the vanaras and rakshasas. The poor came in droves to Rama’s yagna, and his generosity was like a river in spate. Beggars who came to the Naimisa went away as rich men.