Just before Vibhishana lit the funeral pyre, he dramatically raised the torchand proclaimed, “This is the end of a tyrant, a demon, a Rakshasa. Let his life be a lesson to all those who defy the supreme power of dharma, whose earthly manifestation is our master, Lord Sri Ramachandra of the heavenly kingdom of Ayodhya. Let today be the end of the evil and decadent ways of the Asuras. Let today be the holiest of all days, when Lord Rama, the avatar of Vishnu, showers his immense mercy upon us. He shall, in his infinite compassion, lead us to an exalted way of life. By the time Ravana’s sinful body has crumbled into ashes, a new dawn of Deva dharma will rise over our dark horizon. A dharma in which every man will know his place; and learning will be valued; the prowess of the warriors will be respected; and the skills in business appreciated. No longer will we be burdened by hard struggles to succeed in life, nor will we indulge in mad competition to get further ahead than our neighbours. We will cast away the evil society of the Asuras under Ravana, when men thought that merit and hard work alone could assure him happiness.
We will not, from now on, forget that we are but puny little beings, and that our actions and merit is nothing compared to the supreme power of God. Our material or spiritual success flows from his compassion and love. If you have had the misfortune to be born a pariah, do not grieve. In this life you will face difficulties because in a previous life you have done wrong. For your karma you have been born a Shudra or pariah. Do your duty and serve your masters faithfully; do not become overly ambitious or jealous of the respect and riches your superiors enjoy. Only with humility can you ensure that God, in his infinite compassion and wisdom, will show mercy and ensure that your birth in the next level of varna hierarchy in your next life.
Vishnu, is the preserver of the social order. The Lord promised that whenever there was a threat to this order, he would take birth among us mere human beings and restore dharma. Ravana and the ideology he perpetuated, was dangerous and disrupted that order. He would say that being a mere peasant boy of half-caste origin, he had created the mightiest empire in the world, with only his own bravery, hard work, ingenuity, and a few men to aid him. His temporary victory might have dazzled many. But I put my faith in God. Now, everything Ravana achieved is mine. Did I work for it? Did I use great wit? Did I form an evil company of men like Prahastha, Kumbakarna and Rudraka? The only thing I did was to put my complete faith in God. Ravana was killed and the kingdom and the richness he created is mine now.
Earlier, another usurper of this social order, who foolishly believed that all human beings were equal, ruled the western coast of India. You might know Mahabali, who ruled from Muzuris and challenged Vishnu’s social order. At that time the mighty Emperor was defeated by a small Brahmin boy, Vamana, who was none other than another avatar of Vishnu. That should have been a lesson to Ravana. I tried to warn him, for I loved him once as my brother. But he was too arrogant and proud to listen to good advice; too engrossed in life to worry about death. He thought his armies would save him. He thought he had given a good life to his subjects, so they would save him. He thought he had created architectural marvels in the great Shiva temples he had built and so Shiva would save him. But when the time, Ravana had no answer. There were no one to save him, except for the destitute and the poor, who did not understand what was right and wrong.
When Rama came, I fell at his feet, for I recognized God. So did all the noble men of intellect and wisdom, whether it was Varuna, or Lankini, or Jambumali. And see how we have been rewarded. Government servants, merchants, the police, and the army of Ravana, most have now recognized their folly and pledged support to my reign in Rama’s name. I am sure all of you, who had foolishly believed in Ravana or Mahabali’s utopian dreams, will now start leading your life as prescribed by our smrithis. Only by complete submission to his supreme will can one achieve moksha. The laws of our dharma, as defined by the great sage Manu, are eternal and divine. These laws cover every aspect of life. From birth to death, these dharmic laws will show you the path.
Knowledge is a dangerous thing in the hands of people who do not know how to use it. The Asuras had so far made the mistake of educating everyone without thinking of the consequences of equipping evil and ignorant people with knowledge. We made the mistake of seeing every human being as equal. But things will be different now. We will not continue with this folly. Only the first three castes will have the right to education and that too, it will be restricted to what is strictly required for their profession. The salvation of others lies in serving their masters with dedication and sincerity, without worrying about the results of their karma. This is the law ordained by Lord Vishnu himself. Let any man who thinks he can change or challenge this law, do so at his own peril.”
Vibhishana paused and frowned at the crowd. We sat stone-faced. Then, licking his lips, he continued, “This soil is blessed, for the great God Vishnu himself took avatar here. Men were defying fate, men were defying the Gods. Ravana tried to teach the world that mere human effort and will power could lead to success. He was worse than Mahabali, for Mahabali wisely surrendered his kingdom when Vishnu came as Vamana. But my brother, I am ashamed to say so, chose to fight God himself. Ravana was a brave man, but he was conceited and vain, and thought that he could be a match for Vishnu. He taught you wrong by teaching you to defy fate and encouraging you to think that you were in control of your own destiny.
God has put an end to the chaos unleashed by the evil genius of Ravana. The peaceful order of varnashrama dharma has been restored. No longer shall the men who clean drains and toilets think that they are equal to those who learn Sanskrit and chant the Vedas. No longer shall the toddy maker consider himself equal to the merchant selling silk. No longer shall the tiller of the soil think he is equal to an accountant. Everyone has their place and knows his place.
Mandodari, has taken the lead in setting an example of what a virtuous widow’s conduct should be. We all know the shame that befell her in the heat of war. Great crimes were committed by both sides and she was an unfortunate victim,” Vibhishana paused and suppressing a smile as he looked at Mandodari.
There were a few snide remarks and cat calls among the soldiers, but I could feel the impotent rage and hatred that burned in all our hearts. Bastard! He had no intention of stopping. The air was thick with impending rain and the light played hide and seek among the coconut palms. If I could somehow shut up the man who dared to call himself the leader of the Asuras. . .
“What happened to the Queen was unfortunate, and Lord Rama has punished the men responsible for it. But to our shame, my brother accepted the Queen after what had happened. He, like any other Asura, did not guard the notions of chastity and purity of woman. How could he accept her after what had happened? But, he did not know what was good and what was evil. Why did this war start? Was there any reason for the devastation? He could have remained King, as a vassal of the great God Rama.
I am ashamed to say, Soorpanakha, my own sister, started this war. She cannot be blamed completely. She was a product of our culture that allowed women the freedom to lead a loose life. She tried to seduce the handsome Lakshmana. This impudence of a widow to fall in love cannot be tolerated by any man. He punished Soorpanakha by mutilating her nose and ears.
Ravana, instead of accepting what God had ordained for our immoral sister, decided to wage war against Lord Rama. Such arrogance, such false pride. See what happened to him. I have banished Soorpanakha out of the country. She is my sister but I wanted to set an example and prove my master that the Asuras have decided to shed their old ways. My friend Varuna ensured that she was banished to land of barbarians across the seas. She is now a beggar and a destitute, eking out a living with her begging bowl. I am sad at the fate of my sister, but she deserved nothing less.
Then my brother kidnapped Lord Rama’s wife. I have heard rumours that Sita is the daughter of Ravana and by kidnapping her, Ravana was trying to save his own daughter. There cannot be anything more deplorable. How could a low-born Asura have
fathered a Deva princess? Rama is not like Ravana. Sita, his beloved wife, for whose sake he waged a bloody war and staked his own and his men’s lives, has also sinned. I am sure, Sita, by virtue of being a Deva princess and wife of Lord Rama, has remained pure. Ravana did not dare to violate her. But, Lord Rama knows that the lustful eyes of Ravana and other Asuras have wandered over the pure body of his wife. Which husband would tolerate that? Lord Rama is a man, unlike my dead brother who accepted a violated wife, who wishes to set an example and prove to the whole world the chastity and purity of his wife. He wishes to burn the lustful thoughts of Ravana and other men from the body and soul of his wife forever.
This is a deeply moving personal affair, but it is also a public gesture by the Deva king for the whole world to emulate. Unlike the Asuras, the Devas believe in the purity of fire and life. Fire is the Supreme God, the giver of life and energy. Fire cleanses everything. The impurity of Sita in having lived with the Asuras and bearing the lustful eyes of the Asuras on her; and in living away from her husband for such a long period; for the baseless rumours suggesting that she is the daughter of Ravana; all these will be cleansed by fire. In front of all of you, in front of the Asuras and the Vanaras, in front of the whole world, Sita will undergo the supreme test the Devas have to test a woman’s purity – the Agni Pariksha. The divine fire that is burning near the funeral pyre of my brother will determine how pure Sita mata is. If she is chaste and pure, she will remain unscathed. If she is impure, the divine fire will devour her.
A terrified hush fell over the crowd. Heads turned to look at Rama, who sat in his high-backed chair. He was looking down and I could see he was visibly shaken and distressed. Yet he did not stand up and say, ‘Enough! I trust my wife’. Hanuman appeared tense and nervous, whereas Vibhishana gleefully enjoyed his duties. Lakshmana appeared pale and anxious, but tried to hide it with his trademark scowl. Mandodari, who was sitting in one corner with her tonsured head covered with a white veil, sobbed uncontrollably.
There was tension in the air and as if to match it, the first clap of thunder broke in the skies. I could see the black clouds of a thunder storm fast approaching the island. The sun was nothing but the silver edge of the looming dark clouds. A powerful wind swayed the coconut palms and huge waves crashed against the rocky boulders of the beach. People stood up as they dragged Sita towards the divine fire. Initially she resisted and cried out to her husband to save here. But when she comprehended the monstrosity of what her husband wanted her to do in order to prove her purity, she sagged and looked piteously at her him. He averted his eyes and looked straight ahead, beyond her, beyond his soldiers, beyond us, to some distant point on the horizon. Tears welled in his eyes. Beside him and his scowling brother, fat Brahmin priests chanted in Sanskrit, drowning the excited voices of the crowd and the sobs of Mandodari and the other women.
On the beach, Vibhishana, the newly crowned King of the Asuras and vassal of Rama, stood with a flaming torch in his hand and a satisfied smile on his face. In front of him lay the erstwhile King of the Asuras, dead, his face half-eaten by beasts, his head severed from his rotting body, on a funeral pyre. Near him, the fire that knew what chastity is, raged with its hundred arms.
The Asura soldiers left Sita near Vibhishana and marched back. The excitement in the crowd rose to dizzying heights. Never before had they seen anything like this. The sun set into the red sea that rose and fell. Silver-edged, dark clouds loomed in the sky, creating a dark and evil world of sinister-looking reptiles that twisted, turned and reflected a myriad colours from the dying sun.
“With this I end the evil reign of Ravana. With this I end the audacity of a man who dared to challenge the Gods. With this, I end the debauched life of a demon who nearly destroyed the world. Victory to Sri Rama. . .” Vibhishana thundered over the crowd and lit the funeral pyre of his brother as the rain began to fall.
A deep and inexplicable grief gripped me as I watched Ravana turn into ashes. An era had ended. A huge cheer rose from the Vanaras while the Asuras hung their heads in shame. Sita stood near the burning body of her father without any emotion, lost in her own world of grief and betrayal.
“As King of the Asuras, I proclaim that this day shall be celebrated every year, in every village of India, as the day of Victory. On this day, every man, woman and child shall be reminded of the victory of our Lord, avatar of Vishnu, Sri Ramachandra of Ayodhya, over the evil called Ravana. Let Ravana die a million deaths every year on this day, in every village, street, and home of India. . .” Vibhishana raised the flaming torch towards the sky and the Vanaras and a few Asuras cheered with enthusiasm. The sky responded with angry thunder and it began to drizzle. The pyre burned hesitantly as thick, black smoke coiled upwards, flickering, shattering, and re-forming in the wind.
“Now comes the test of purity, the Agni Pariksha for the respected and beloved wife of our Lord.” Vibhishana announced. An Asura servant poured more ghee into the burning pyre. The flames rose high and crackled in the wind. We all watched in horror and excitement, as Sita hesitated, looking at the raging fire into which she was supposed to step to prove her chastity to her husband. She looked at Rama, trying to catch his eye, but the God, like other Gods, looked away when he was most needed. Vibhishana became impatient and ordered more ghee to be poured into the fire. Sita stood there for a few moments longer. Then she slowly collapsed onto the floor. There was an awkward silence among the crowd. Had she backed out?
Someone near me whispered, “She might not be as pure as she looks, that is why she is not ready to face the fire.”
His neighbours snickered, each colouring their own imagination with lewd thoughts.
I angrily turned and said, “Such nonsense! Even if she is not virtuous, how can it be proved by entering a raging fire? A fire cannot discriminate between
a virtuous and non-virtuous.”
The man who had made comments about Sita clearly did not like what I said. “So you, an ignorant peasant, knows all about fire. This is what the learned Brahmins have said. Who are we to question them?” Though a few appeared sceptical, most nodded their heads in agreement. I had missed a little of what was happening in talking to these idiots.
Sita had stood up. Again the crowd sensed that something was going to happen. Then with sudden strength, she ran towards the raging fire. Did we hear correctly or was it my imagination? I’m still not sure. Did she cry out, “Father. . .” before she jumped into the fire? A gasp went up from the crowd and at that moment the skies opened up and tons of water poured down. The wind had turned into a full-fledged storm and the coconut palms swayed and coiled, the fronds whirling in a frenzy like the arms of a drowning man. It had grown unnaturally dark and the lightning that blazed gave everyone a ghostly appearance. The crowd pushed towards the funeral pyre of their slain King and soon became uncontrollable. Policemen pushed and shoved back the crowd and there was total chaos. The pyre had gone out and we saw Hanuman carrying Sita to Rama. She appeared limp, but to my experienced eyes she seemed to be alive. So, she was pure after all. I remembered when I had held her in my hands in the Vindhya forests, a small bundle of life given to me by the Asura nobles to bury.
The crowd disappeared after the mela as the main actors disappreared into the fort for another night of celebration. I stood there drenched in the raging tropical storm till the crowd thinned and then slowly walked towards Ravana’s funeral pyre. It was still raining but not as heavily as before. The pyre was a mess. It was a mush of ash and mud, with bits of bone and half-burnt skull protruding haphazardly. I stood there not knowing what to do. Then I kicked the bones and other remnants of the great Asura Emperor into the raging waters of the sea. After some time, I walked back home to sleep.
62 Life sprouts again
Bhadra
The months after the death of Ravana, were a horrible period in the life of the Asuras. There was confusion regarding the new caste hierarchy and plenty of caste conflicts. Each family got itself aligned to whichever caste which
they thought would emerge on top. If it had been only a clear division on the basis of four varnas, it would not have been so difficult to find one’s caste. The hierarchy would have been well defined and everyone would have just obeyed or fought against it. I do not know whether it was an act of genius or a reflection of muddled thinking, that devised the bewildering system of castes and sub-castes. It divided our society into a million parts, with the Brahmins clearly at the top.
It took me almost three months to understand that I belonged to the caste of washermen, which was theoretically lower than goldsmiths, carpenters, etc, but miles higher than travelling minstrels, woodcutters, potters, and the rest. I was not permitted to walk on the road when those belonging to higher castes, decided to use the road. But I, in turn, had the right to kick a potter if he dared to cross my path. My purity was besmirched if I touched a woodcutter, but, in turn, if I ever touched a carpenter, I could cause impurity. None of these castes belonging to the lowest rung, could walk on the streets or wear good clothes or have fine houses or enter the temples – all of which reserved for the people of the other three varnas. It was a perverse system and depended on the base emotions of man to inflict humiliation on those under him. I would have to accept any insult from a higher caste person, because I had the right to torture those below me. And then, gripping poverty cast a pall of doom over the dispirited Asura populace.
After about nine months, a terrible famine broke out in the south of India and on the islands. Trade came to a standstill as the Brahmins decried that crossing the black waters of the ocean would result in losing one’s caste. The merchant class, in fear of losing their newly-found privileges, refused to go to sea and soon the Chinese and yellow haired barbarians, took over the trade of spices and fine things. Soon there was nothing to eat. But Vibhishana’s tax collectors showed no mercy in extracting the last morsel due to the government. There was one person who could have worked a miracle to set right the leaky dams and canals, and restart the farming in the countryside. But the mad scientist Mayan, was now a prisoner in chains, held in a dungeon. The Brahmins laughed at his theories and proclaimed all that he had achieved had been the result of black magic of the Asuras.
Asura- Tale of the Vanquished Page 48