The Ramayana

by Valmiki

  Bharata gazed upon the assembly that seemed as bright as the night of the full moon when the clouds part. When Vasiṣṭha saw that all the regions of the kingdom were duly represented, he spoke softly to Bharata. ‘Child, Daśaratha has fulfilled his duties and gone to heaven. He has left you a prosperous kingdom abundant in grain and wealth. Honourable Rāma is dedicated to truth and being mindful of his duties, could not ignore his father’s words any more than the moon can give up its light. Your father and brother have left you an unencumbered kingdom. Crown yourself without further delay and enjoy its pleasures with your ministers!’

  Bharata was eager to do the right thing but his mind travelled to Rāma and he was plunged into grief. In a voice thick with tears, he rebuked the royal priest in front of everyone. ‘How can someone like me take the kingdom away from Rāma? He has entered the second phase of his life* and he is dedicated to dharma. How can a son of Daśaratha usurp the throne? The kingdom and I both belong to Rāma. You should be telling me how I should behave in this situation.

  ‘Rāma is the oldest and the best amongst us. He is the most worthy to rule, equal to Daśaratha himself! If I did the wrong thing now I would definitely go to hell! I would also defame my clan in the entire world! My mother has done an abominable thing and though I stand here, my thoughts are with Rāma who braves the dangers of the forest!

  ‘My brother Rāma is the one who deserves to be king. If I cannot persuade him to return from the forest, I shall live with him there, like Lakṣmaṇa does. I will use all the means at my disposal to bring him back!’

  ‘Go quickly, Sumantra, and carry out my instructions. Get the army ready to move and prepare for the journey at once!’ said Bharata.

  Sumantra was delighted with Bharata’s plans, as were the common people and the army commanders. The prospect of a journey to bring Rāma back filled them with excitement and happiness. Sumantra yoked the best of horses to Bharata’s chariot as each family of Ayodhyā, whether brahmin, kṣatriya, vaiśya or śūdra, prepared themselves for the journey, harnessing their camels, mules, horses and elephants.

  Bharata started on his journey preceded by his ministers and priests who rode in chariots that shone like the chariot of the sun. He was followed by ninety thousand elephants, sixty thousand chariots carrying archers and one hundred thousand cavalrymen. Rich people, leaders of trade guilds and commoners also went along, their conversations revolving around Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, their hearts filled with joy. Bharata decided to camp and rest on the banks of he Gangā and after the army had settled down, he began to think of ways to persuade Rāma to return.

  The king of the Niṣādas, Guha, came to meet Bharata, bearing gifts of fish, meat and honey. Sumantra, who knew about matters of protocol, said to Bharata, ‘Here comes the mighty chief of this region surrounded by thousands of his people. He is an elderly man and a good friend of your brother’s. He is familiar with the Daṇḍaka forest and is bound to know where Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa are. You must go and receive him!’

  ‘Here are some roots and fruits gathered by my people as well as fresh and dried meats and other forest produce,’ said Guha bowing low. ‘Let your army stay here for the night and we shall look after them. You can leave here in the morning.’

  Bharata questioned Guha eagerly, ‘Tell me, Gūha, where did Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā spend the night? What did Rāma eat? Where did he sleep?’ And Guha gladly told Bharata how he had welcomed Rāma as a friend and as an honoured guest.

  ‘I brought Rāma many different kinds of food as refreshment. He was gracious, but in keeping with the kṣatriya code, he refused to accept any gifts from me. “It is our duty to give and not to accept gifts” is what he said to us with great courtesy as he turned down our offerings. He drank only the water that Lakṣmaṇa brought him and then he and Sītā fasted for the night. Lakṣmaṇa drank what was left over before he, too, began his fast. Then they said their evening prayers.

  ‘Lakṣmaṇa gathered wild grasses and quickly made a bed for Rāma and when Rāma and Sītā had settled down for the night, Lakṣmaṇa stood at a distance keeping vigil. That is the ungudi tree under which they slept as Lakṣmaṇa kept watch with his bow strung and his quivers full of arrows. And I stood beside Lakṣmaṇa, armed with my bow and arrow, surrounded by my alert and watchful people.’

  Bharata walked over to the tree under which Rāma had slept. He turned to his mothers who had accompanied him on his journey and spoke sadly. ‘This is where Rāma spent the night. Look, you can still see the imprint of his body on the ground! It is not right that someone as noble as Rāma, born into the family of Daśaratha, should sleep like this. He has slept under the finest quilts, blankets and sheets, how can that tiger among men now sleep on the ground?

  ‘From today onwards, I, too, shall sleep on the bare ground. I shall eat only roots and fruits. I shall mat my hair and wear simple clothes. I shall live happily in the forest for Rāma’s sake and take on the fulfilment of his pledge. Śatrughna will live with me while I carry out Rāma’s promise and he can protect Ayodhyā with Lakṣmaṇa. May the gods grant me my wish!

  ‘If I cannot persuade Rāma to return, even by laying my head at his feet, then I shall live with him in the forest for fourteen years. He cannot deny me that!’

  Bharata rose early the next morning. He woke Śatrughna and told him to instruct Guha to make arrangements to ferry the army across the river. Boats carried the army over the Gangā and they entered the forests of Prayāga at an auspicious time. Bharata halted the army and went ahead with his ministers to meet the sage Bharadvāja.

  Bharata knew how he should approach the sage so he left his weapons behind and went on foot. He wore only clothes of silk and was preceded by the royal priest.

  When Bharadvāja saw Vasiṣṭha coming towards him, he rose from his seat and instructed his disciples to bring the arghya water. Then he saw Bharata and recognized him as Daśaratha’s son. He honoured his visitors appropriately and asked if all was well in Ayodhyā. He had learned about Daśaratha’s death and so he did not refer to him. Prompted by his affection for Rāma, he asked Bharata, ‘Why have you come here when it is your job to rule the kingdom? My mind is uneasy about this. Tell me everything!

  ‘Isn’t it true that Kausalyā’s son has been exiled into the forest for fourteen years with his wife and brother because his father fell under the spell of a woman? I assume you have not come here to harm that innocent man so that you can rule the kingdom unhindered, a kingdom that should belong to your brother!’

  ‘I am utterly destroyed if even a holy man like you thinks this of me!’ replied Bharata with tears in his eyes, his voice choking. ‘I know that I have never had an ignoble thought or wicked intentions! What my mother did in my absence did not make me happy and I never asked her to do it. You should not accuse me thus! I am going to meet Rāma so that I can throw myself at his feet and beg him to return to Ayodha with me. Be kind to me and tell me where I can find Rāma, the lord of the earth!’

  Bharadvāja was reassured by Bharata’s words. ‘You are truly worthy of your clan, tiger among men! I know you are obedient to your elders and self-restrained and that you walk in the ways of good men. I knew your innermost thoughts but I wanted to be absolutely sure.

  ‘Your brother is living on the mighty Citrakūṭa mountain. Go there tomorrow but stay here tonight with your ministers. You know how to make others happy, so grant me this favour!’

  Bharata agreed and his retinue spent the night in comfort, their every wish fulfilled by Bharadvāja.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, Bharata made preparations to depart after profusely thanking the sage for his hospitality. ‘Tell me, great sage, how I can find my brother’s settlement? I am anxious to see him,’ he asked.

  ‘The Citrakūṭa mountain lies in the midst of the uninhabited forests not far from here, Bharata! The river Mandākinī flows along its northern side and is almost hidden by groves of flowering trees. I am sure you
will find your brother’s thatched hut between the mountain and the river,’ said Bharadvāja. ‘Take your army along the southern road and turn east. That road will lead you to your brother!’

  The royal party gathered around the sage before mounting their chariots. Thin, wan and trembling, Kausalyā and Sumitrā clung to Bharadvāja’s feet. Even Kaikeyī, whose wish had not been fulfilled and who was despised by the whole world, fell at his feet. She honoured the sage and then went and stood by Bharata, her eyes cast down. ‘Tell me all about your mothers,’ said the sage to Bharata.

  ‘This woman that you see here, so emaciated and wretched with grief is my father’s chief queen, Kausalyā. She is like a goddess and gave birth to the wide-striding Rāma like Aditi gave birth to Dhatr.. This one standing here so woebegone, wilting like a flowering tree is Sumitrā, the mother of the heroic Lakṣmaṇa and Śatrughna. This one here is Kaikeyī. She appears to be a noble woman but she is utterly deceitful. She is greedy and cruel, this mother of mine! I see only disaster ahead for myself because of what she has done!’ Bharata broke down and began to weep.

  Bharadvāja comforted him. ‘Do not censure Kaikeyī, Bharata, for Rāma’s exile will have happy consequences!’

  Bharata took the sage’s permission to leave and ordered the army to march onwards. People rushed to their gilded chariots, yoked their horses and climbed in, eager to depart. Slowly, the elephants decorated with golden harnesses and bells began to move. With their bells tinkling and their banners fluttering, they looked like the dark clouds at the end of summer. Large and small vehicles started up and the foot soldiers kept pace with them. Eager to see Rāma, Kausalyā and Sumitrā climbed into a separate chariot.

  Bharata was surrounded by his retainers and rode in a chariot that was as bright as the rising sun and as beautiful as the moon. The mighty army with its horses, elephants and chariots rumbled through the forest, which was filled with birds and animals, sounding like distant thunder clouds.

  The forest animals grew agitated when they saw the huge army. Rutting tuskers fled away followed by their herds. Bear, antelope and deer stood petrified in the forest clearings on the mountain slopes. And Daśaratha’s honourable son marched onwards with his thundering army, complete with all four divisions. The army was as vast as the ocean and covered the earth as completely as rain clouds cover the sky in the monsoon.

  When they had gone about half way, Bharata’s horses grew tired. ‘This looks like the area Bharadvāja described to us,’ he said to Vasiṣṭha. ‘This must be the river Mandākinī and so this has to be Mount Citrakūṭa. I can see the dense forests in the distance, dark as rain clouds.

  ‘Already the beautiful ridges of the mountain slopes are being flattened by my elephants who are as large as mountains themselves. The trees here rain flowers on the ground the way clouds rain water! Look Śatrughna! look at this mountain teeming with deer like the ocean teems with water creatures! This forest was terrifying in its silence just a little while ago. Now it is so full of people, it is like Ayodhyā!

  ‘The dust from the horses’ hooves darkens the sky but there is a gentle breeze that blows it away, as if for my pleasure! Our chariots descend upon the mountain and the peacocks display their plumage as they rush to their homes. This region is the home of ascetics and hermits. It is so beautiful, it is like heaven! Let the army move carefully through the forest, keeping a sharp lookout for Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa!’

  The army penetrated deeper into the forest and soon they saw smoke rising into the air. They ran to tell Bharata. ‘There cannot be fire in a place uninhabited by men. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa must be here! And if not them, then there must be other ascetics just like them.’ Bharata told the massive army to stop where it was. ‘I shall go ahead with Sumantra and Vasiṣṭha,’ he declared.

  Rāma, meanwhile, had lived in the forest for some time now. He loved the mountains and the trees and he was showing Sītā the beauty of Citrakūṭa, as Indra might show his wife. ‘I am not upset about the loss of the kingdom nor do I miss the company of my friends when I see the natural beauty of the mountain slopes,’ he said to her.

  As they sat chatting pleasantly with each other, the noise and the dust from Bharata’s army rose into the sky. The animals were disturbed and herds fled in all directions in fright. Rāma heard the tumult and saw the animals fleeing. ‘Listen Lakṣmaṇa!’ he said. ‘What could that terrifying sound be? Could it be a royal hunting party? Or some huge beast of prey? Go and find out what it is, quickly!’

  Lakṣmaṇa immediately climbed up a tall tree and looked in all directions. In the north, he saw the army with its horses and elephants, chariots and foot soldiers. He told Rāma what he had seen. ‘Put out the fire Rāma and send Sītā into the hut! Put on your armour and prepare your bow and arrows!’

  ‘Look again, Lakṣmaṇa,’ cautioned Rāma. ‘Whose army do you think it is?’ Lakṣmaṇa turned to him with a look of such anger that he could have consumed the entire army. ‘It is obvious that Kaikeyī’s son is here to kill us. He has been crowned and wants to enjoy the kingdom without any hindrances! The kovidāra banner flutters from the chariot in which he rides. The men mounted on horses and elephants seem eager and happy.

  ‘Let us move further up the mountain with our bows and arrows. Or we can make a stand here. Bharata’s banner shall surely fall to us in battle! I want to see Bharata who has brought this terrible calamity upon us! Rāma, he has deprived you of the kingdom and kingship. Now that your enemy has arrived here, I shall kill him!

  ‘There is nothing wrong with killing Bharata, Rāma! To kill someone who has harmed you is not a violation of dharma. And when he is dead, you shall rule the entire earth. Today Kaikeyī shall drown in sorrow when she sees me kill her son in battle, as easily as a tree is snapped in half by an elephant. Then I will kill Kaikeyī and her entire family. The earth deserves to be rid of such a creature!

  ‘I shall no longer hold back the fire of my wrath which I have controlled for so long. The slopes of Citrakūṭa will be drenched with the blood of our enemies as it pours forth from the wounds my arrows shall inflict! Beasts of prey will drag away the corpses of men and elephants that I have killed. I have repaid the debt to my weapons in many a great battle and I shall do so again today by destroying Bharata and his entire army!’

  ‘What use are all our weapons when Bharata the mighty archer has come here himself?’ said Rāma, trying to calm Lakṣmaṇa. ‘He has come to see us. The thought of harming us would never cross his mind! He has never harmed you in the past so you should not suspect him like this. Do not speak harshly to him for an unkindness to him would be an unkindness to me. Under no circumstances can a son kill his father or a brother kill his brother.

  ‘If you are saying all this on account of the kingdom then listen. When Bharata comes here I will ask him to give me the kingdom. And I have no doubt that Bharata will give it to me even before I ask for it.’ Lakṣmaṇa was ashamed when he heard Rāma’s words, for he was devoted to his brother.

  Meanwhile, the mighty Ikṣvāku army with its horses and elephants and chariots surrounded the mountain and settled on its slopes. It had been ordered to do so by Bharata who placed dharma above all else and who had suppressed his own pride. The army had come there to take Rāma back and so it behaved with deference and humility.

  Once the army had settled down, Bharata spoke to Śatrughna. ‘Dear brother, go and search every inch of the forest with a group of men. I shall have no peace until I have seen Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā!’

  Bharata himself entered the forest on foot. The best of men walked through the flowering groves that covered the mountain slopes. When he reached the sāla tree at the top of the mountain, he saw the smoke from Rāma’s fire rising into the air like a banner. Bharata was filled with joy and shouted to his companions ‘Rāma is here!’ like a man who has reached the far shores of the ocean. He went ahead quickly with Guha, asking the others to stay back.

  He instructed Vasiṣṭha to fetc
h his mothers. Sumantra followed closely behind Śatrughna for his longing to see Rāma was as great as Bharata’s. As he walked on, Bharata saw his brothers’ thatched hut.

  In front of the hut there were split logs of wood, heaps of flowers and piles of deer and buffalo dung which had been collected to make a fire to ward off the cold. The hut was thatched with many different kinds of leaves and its floor was covered with kuśa grass, like a sacrificial altar. Inside the hut, Bharata could see his brothers’ mighty bows and arrows, equal to the weapons of Indra himself. They were adorned with gold and blazed with such splendour that they would make their enemies tremble. Even the arrows with their gleaming tips in their quivers shone like the rays of the sun. Swords glistened in their golden scabbards and shields were decorated with gold designs.

  A sacrificial fire burned in the northern corner of Rāma’s hut. Bharata had to look hard before he saw Rāma sitting in a corner, his matted locks piled on top of his head. The lord of the earth, who had always walked the path of the righteous, was seated on the skin of a black antelope, his arms and shoulders like that of a lion, his eyes as beautiful as a lotus. Rāma sat on the darbha grass like the eternal Brahmā, with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā next to him.

  Kaikeyī’s honourable son ran forward, overcome with grief. For a moment he could not speak but then he collected himself and cried out in a voice thick with tears. ‘My older brother who should be honoured by his people in the halls of state sits here surrounded by forest animals! He used to wear the finest clothes and now he covers himself with deerskin, as dharma dictates! Rāma used to have flowers in his hair. How can his locks be matted? He who should have earned merit from the performance of sacrifices now earns merit through mortifying his body! This noble man’s body used to be anointed with sandal paste and now it is covered with dust! Rāma deserves all happiness but he suffers these hardships because of me. Damn this life that I must live!’