The Ramayana

by Valmiki

  ‘To help is the sign of a friend, just as to harm is the sign of an enemy!’ said Rāma who knew and loved dharma and was a man of great power. ‘Today I shall kill the monkey who took your wife away from you! You shall watch as your brother, who has done you wrong and is your enemy, is slain by my arrows as a mountain is split!’

  ‘Good! Good!’ said Sugrīva, reassured by Rāma’s words. ‘Rāma, I am tormented by my troubles and you are the last resort for creatures like me! I come to you with my sorrows because of our mutual alliance. I can tell you about the troubles that consume me like a fire because we are friends!’ Sugrīva’s eyes filled with tears and he could barely speak as they threatened to choke him. His tears flowed like a river in spate but with a great effort he managed to staunch them. He wiped his beautiful eyes, sighed deeply and continued.

  ‘Long ago, I was driven out of the kingdom by Vālī who was stronger and very critical of me. He stole my wife who was dearer to me than my own life and he imprisoned all my friends and well wishers. That blackguard tried many times to destroy me and I have killed several monkeys that he sent here with that express purpose. That is why I was so suspicious when I saw you and did not move from this place! Everything is terrifying when there is a cause for fear!

  ‘Hanumān and the others are my only companions. And though I am in a bad way, I have survived only because of them. They protect me from all sides and look after me because they love me. They go where I go and stay where I stay. This, in short, is my story, Rāma. Why go into any details? The gist of it is that my own older brother, who is known for his strength, is my deadly enemy. My sorrows will end when he is destroyed. My life and my happiness depend on his death!’

  ‘But what is the reason for this hostility?’ asked Rāma. ‘I would like to hear about that! Then I will consider the matter carefully and decide upon the best way to restore you to happiness. The tale of your humiliation makes me very angry. You shall see your enemy destroyed the moment I release my arrow!’

  The monkeys and Sugrīva were thrilled when they heard what Rāma said and with a lighter heart Sugrīva began to tell Rāma the whole story.

  ‘My brother, the slayer of his enemies, is named Vālī. In the old days, my father thought very highly of him and so did I. When my father died, Vālī was placed on the throne by the ministers because he was older and because they held him in high regard. He ruled the kingdom that has come down to us from our forefathers and I obeyed him at all times.

  ‘Long before that, Vālī had a famous fight over a woman with Māyāvī, the oldest son of Dundubhi. One night, when everyone was asleep, Māyāvī came to the gates of Kiṣkindha and created a mighty din, challenging Vālī to a fight. My brother was also asleep but he woke when he heard that great shout and, unable to tolerate the insult, came out quickly. Determined to kill that mighty asura, Vālī left Kiṣkindha immediately. Even though his wives and I pleaded with him in all humility, he brushed us aside. But I followed him out of affection.

  ‘When the asura saw my brother and me coming after him from a distance, he fled in terror. We both ran after him and the moon lit up our path. The asura ran into a crevice that was covered with grass and seemed hard to access but we followed him to the mouth of the cave. Vālī was enraged when he saw his enemy disappearing into the hole and in a frenzy he said to me, “Stand here, Sugrīva, and guard the entrance to the cave. I will go and kill this hostile creature!” I begged him to let me go with him but he made me swear that I would stay there and plunged into the cave.

  ‘An entire year went by after he entered there and all that time I stood guard at the entrance. I saw no sign of Vālī and I assumed the worst. I presumed that he was dead and because of my affection for him, I was very upset. I heard the shouts of the asura but I heard nothing from my brother who was engrossed in the fight. That made me think that my brother was dead. I covered the entrance to the cave with a rock that was as big as a mountain and after performing the funeral rites for my brother, I returned to Kiṣkindha with a heavy heart.

  ‘Though I made very effort to hide the truth, the ministers heard what had happened and after consulting each other they crowned me king. While I was ruling the kingdom justly and well, Vālī returned, having killed the hostile asura. His eyes blazed with anger when he saw that I had become king. He imprisoned my councillors and berated me harshly. I could have had him thrown into prison but, out of respect for the fact that he was my older brother, I did not want to treat that wicked creature so badly. I honoured him and treated him with respect but Vālī did not invoke blessings upon me.

  ‘I tried to placate my brother who was in a towering rage. “Thank goodness you are well and that the enemy has been destroyed! I am vulnerable and you are my only protector! Accept this fly whisk and this royal umbrella, that shines like the moon, which I shall hold over your head. You are the rightful king now, as you were before. I return to you the kingdom that I held in trust. Do not be angry with me, dear brother! I beg you with my palms joined and my head at your feet! The councillors and the citizens felt that a kingless country would be vulnerable to conquest and so they conferred and forced me to be king!”

  ‘And though I spoke from deep and sincere affection, that monkey was not moved. “Damn you!” he shouted and began to berate me and say all kinds of terrible things about me in front of the citizens and the ministers whom he had called together. “You know how the asura Māyāvī came here one night. That cruel and wicked fool, eager for battle, challenged me to a fight” he said. ‘I came out of Kiṣkindha when I heard his call and this ill-intentioned brother of mine followed me quickly. When the great asura saw us coming after him, he ran away in fright and entered a huge hole in the earth. I saw that and told this wicked brother of mine to wait for me at the entrance because I could not return to the city without killing Māyāvī. I thought my brother would do as I asked. When I entered the cave, it took me a whole year to find the asura. I saw that creature who strikes terror into the hearts of his opponents and I killed him and his entire family. Blood poured out of the asura’s mouth when I killed him and it filled the cave. I wanted to get out but I found that the entrance was blocked. I called out to Sugrīva again and again and was very angry when there was no response. I began to kick at the blocked entrance until, finally, I got out and returned to the city. This ruthless creature forgot all about filial love and trapped me in there because of his desire for the throne!”

  ‘Then Vālī threw me out with only the single piece of clothing that I was wearing. He threw me out and took my wife. Since then, I have wandered all over the earth with its forests and oceans, living in fear of him. Grieving for my lost wife, I came to live here on the Ṛṣyamūka mountain because the area is forbidden to Vālī for a certain reason.

  ‘Now that I have told you everything about this terrible enmity, you will see, Rāma, that I have been made to suffer even though I am utterly innocent. You rid the world of fear. Be gracious to me and destroy this creature that I fear so much!’

  Righteous Rāma smiled. ‘My arrows are sharp and as bright as the sun. They never miss their mark. They shall be sped on their way by my anger and shall fall upon the wicked Vālī!’ said Rāma, his words filled with dharma. ‘Immoral Vālī, the abductor of your wife, shall not live a single moment after I have set eyes on him! From my own experience, I know that you must be plunged in an ocean of sorrow. But I shall help you across it and you shall have what your heart desires.’

  Sugrīva listened to Rāma’s words which were intended to make him take heart and feel better and he honoured Rāma and praised him. ‘I have no doubt you can consume the world with your flaming arrows, like the fire at the end of time!’ he said. ‘Listen carefully and I will describe Vālī’s courage and strength and his skills. Then you can decide what you should do.

  ‘Vālī can travel from the eastern ocean to the western and from the northern ocean to the southern before the sun has risen and not feel any fatigue. He climbs to the tops o
f the highest mountains and, breaking off their peaks, he tosses them into the air and catches them before they fall. Vālī breaks sap-filled trees in the forest just to prove his strength to himself.

  ‘There was an enormous buffalo named Dundubhi, white as the peaks of Mount Kailāsa, and he had the strength of a thousand elephants. He was wicked at heart, proud of his strength and courage, and he had become arrogant because of the boons he had received. Himāvat, the lord of the mountains, sent Dundubhi to challenge Vālī to a fight, for Vālī was invincible. Dundubhi arrived at Kiṣkindha in a rage. He had taken on the form of a terrifying buffalo with sharp horns, dark as the rain-filled clouds in the monsoon sky.

  ‘Mighty Dundubhi roared like the rumble of war drums and it was a sound that made the earth tremble. Nearby trees split open and the buffalo dug up the earth with his hooves. In his arrogance, he gouged at the city gates with his horns, like an elephant in rut. Vālī was in the inner apartments at the time but he came out in a temper when he heard that sound, like the moon surrounded by stars.

  ‘Vālī, lord of the monkeys and of all the forest creatures, spoke clearly and distinctly to Dundubhi. “Why are you blocking the gates of my city and roaring like this? I know that you are Dundubhi. Protect yourself, mighty one!” Dundubhi’s eyes blazed with anger as he replied. “You should not speak like this in front of women, hero! Come and fight with me so that I can assess your strength! Or if you like, I shall contain my anger for the night. Indulge your pleasures until the morning, monkey!”

  ‘Vālī dismissed Tārā and the other women and smiled slowly. “Do not assume that I am drunk!” he shouted in his rage. “Unless, of course, you are scared to fight me! Assume that I have drunk what heroes drink before they go into battle!” Vālī threw off the golden necklace that had been given to him by his father Indra and prepared himself for combat.

  ‘He grabbed the mountainous Dundubhi by his horns and with a mighty roar, flung him to the ground. Blood poured from Dundubhi’s ears when he hit the ground and he lay there, dead. Vālī lifted that heavy and inert body in his arms and hurled it away with great force. It landed one full yojanā away but a few drops of blood fell from the body and were carried by the wind to the sage Matanga’s hermitage. Matanga saw the enormous carcass of the buffalo lying near by and, inflamed with anger, he cursed Vālī, who had thrown it. “Whoever threw this thing can never enter this area. He will die if he does so!” Vālī begged the sage to release him from the curse but to no avail. Since then, Vālī has not set foot on the Ṛṣyamūk mountain, nor even looked at it, for fear of the sage’s curse.

  ‘And I wander through these forests with my companions, free from fear, because I know that Vālī cannot set foot here. Look, you can see Dundubhi’s skeleton over there, large as a mountain. He was so proud of his strength that he brought about his own death.

  ‘See those seven sāla trees over there with their thick branches? Vālī could shake the trees and make the branches fall to the ground. I am giving you examples of Vālī’s strength. How will you kill him in battle, Rāma? If you can pierce even one of those sāla trees with a single arrow then I shall believe that you have the capacity to kill Vālī.’

  Rāma playfully lifted Dundubhi’s skeleton with his big toe and kicked it a distance of ten yojanās. Sugrīva watched and then, in front of Lakṣmaṇa, he said significantly, ‘The body was covered with flesh and blood when it was kicked away before, my friend! Now, Rāma, it is all bones and is as light as straw. Under these circumstances, I cannot judge who is stronger, you or Vālī!’

  Sugrīva’s pointed words made Rāma lift his mighty bow. He fitted it with a single arrow, aimed at the sāla trees and let it go with all his strength. The arrow resounded through the air and pierced all the seven trees as well as the mountain behind them before entering the earth. A little while later, the wondrous arrow came back and lodged itself in its quiver. The monkey was astounded and fell on the ground before Rāma, his head bowed, his ornaments dangling. Filled with delight, he honoured Rāma with his palms joined.

  Thrilled with Rāma’s feat, Sugrīva said to the man who knew dharma, who was the foremost among skilled warriors and who stood before him like a hero, ‘Bull among men, you are capable of destroying all the gods in battle, even Indra, with your arrows! What then, of Vālī! Who can face you in combat when you have pierced seven trees and a mountain and the earth with a single arrow? Today my sorrows end and happiness returns, for I have the equal of Indra and Varuṇa as a friend! Gratify me by killing Vālī today, this enemy in the guise of a brother! I beg you, Rāma, with folded hands!’

  Rāma embraced the happy Sugrīva and spoke words that Lakṣmaṇa also agreed with. ‘Let us go to Kiṣkindha! Go ahead of us, Sugrīva, and challenge Vālī, who is your brother in name only, to a fight.’

  Chapter Three

  Swiftly, they all went to Kiṣkindha, Vālī’s city, and stationed themselves in the forest, hiding behind trees. Sugrīva girded his loins and, outside the gates of Kiṣkindha, he let out a mighty roar that pierced the sky, challenging Vālī to fight. Vālī heard his brother and charged out in a rage, red as the sun over the western mountains. A huge and noisy fight ensued between Vālī and Sugrīva, like the clash of Mercury and Mars in the sky. In their fury, both the brothers attacked each other with their fists and feet, hitting one another with the force of thunderbolts.

  His bow at the ready, Rāma watched the two monkeys fighting. They looked exactly like each other, like the aśvins. Rāma could not tell which was Vālī and which Sugrīva, so he held back the arrow that was bound to kill one of them. Worsted in combat, his spirit broken, Sugrīva ran back to the Ṛṣyamūka mountain because he could not see his protector, Rāma, anywhere. Vālī followed him, wounded, tired and covered with blood. But when he saw Sugrīva enter the area where he could not go because of the curse, he shouted, ‘You have escaped this time!’ and went back to Kiṣkindha.

  Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Hanumān returned to find Sugrīva, his head hanging low, feeling utterly disgraced. ‘Rāma, you showed me your skills and urged me to challenge Vālī. Then you let me be injured by my enemy! Why did you do this?’ said Sugrīva plaintively, wretched and miserable. ‘If you had made it clear before that you were not going to kill Vālī, I would never have left his place!’

  ‘Listen to me, dear Sugrīva, and do not be angry,’ said Rāma. ‘Listen to why I held back my arrows. You and Vālī are exactly alike. You look like each other, your movements are the same, even your clothes and ornaments do not distinguish you from one another! Monkey, I could not even tell you apart by voice and complexion, nor by your skills, your speech or your personalities. I was thoroughly confused by these resemblances and so I did not release my deadly arrow which would have taken a life. But within the next hour, you shall see Vālī laid low by my arrow, writhing on the ground. Put on something that will distinguish you from him so that I can recognize you when you are fighting. Lakṣmaṇa, take this flowering creeper and place it around Sugrīva’s neck as a garland!’

  Lakṣmaṇa picked up the creeper, abundant with flowers that grew on the hillside, and arranged it around Sugrīva’s neck. The monkey shone with that garland like a cloud in the evening sky. Then he made for Kiṣkindha, reassured by Rāma’s words.

  Once again, they all hid themselves in the trees of the forest. Sugrīva looked around the forest that he loved and worked himself up into a rage. Again he let out a great roar that seemed to pierce the sky and challenged Vālī to fight. Sugrīva blazed like the morning sun and his gait was like a lion’s. He turned to Rāma who was skilled at his task and said, ‘We have arrived at Vālī’s city with its golden arches and flying banners, filled with powerful monkeys. Fulfil the promise that you made earlier, as the season brings the vine to fruit, and kill Vālī!’

  ‘You are wearing the flower garland as a sign. I shall recognize you by that!’ replied Rāma. ‘It makes you shine brightly like the moon with a necklace of stars in the sky! I
shall release a single arrow, monkey, that will free you from the fear of your enemy Vālī! As soon as that enemy in the guise of a brother appears, I shall strike him down and he will roll in the dust. If he is still alive after I set eyes on him, Sugrīva, then the fault will be mine and you can criticize me and berate me all you want. I have never told a lie, not even in an adversity, and I never shall, for I cannot bear to violate dharma. Have no doubt, I shall make good my promise, as Indra ripens the crops with timely rains! Challenge Vālī, the wearer of the golden necklace! Raise the cry that will bring out that monkey who is so eager to fight!’

  Golden-yellow Sugrīva let out a harsh cry that seemed to split the sky. It troubled the placid cows, who turned pale like high-born women would at the prospect of violence and anarchy. Deer fled like war horses that have been turned loose on the battlefield. Birds fell out of the sky like heavenly bodies that have exhausted their merit. Sugrīva, son of the Sun, his confidence and strength swelling like the ocean agitated by the winds, yelled with all his might, sounding like thunder from gathering clouds.

  Vālī was in the women’s apartments and he was terribly annoyed with his brother’s yells. The sound which had made all the creatures tremble jogged Vālī out of his intoxication and roused him to anger. His anger distorted him so much that Vālī, who was normally the colour of the evening sun, dimmed like the sun in eclipse. He rushed out of the palace, tearing up the earth with his powerful feet.

  Tārā was very upset and she clung to him and spoke to him affectionately, displaying her concern for his welfare. ‘Throw away this anger, hero, that has come upon you like a river in spate, as one who wakes throws away flowers from the night before! Your rushing off like this makes me uneasy. Listen and I will tell you why I want you to hold back!