‘—was Maharaja Dasaratha. Exactly. A guru, even one who shows his pupils the way to enlightenment, does not become the father of a child. In the same way, while Vayu engendered Hanuman, and Kesari raised him lovingly as his own son, it required one soul more to complete his fathering. You were that soul, Rama. Without you, Hanuman could not have achieved this self-realisation and actualisation. You are as essential to his blossoming as rain to a rose.’
Rama nodded, knowing better than to argue with the bear king when he was in a voluble mood. ‘It is my privilege then, to have been the one chosen to aid you in this journey of fulfilment.’ He addressed the words to Hanuman directly.
Jambavan laughed. ‘Still you do not understand your true nature, Rama. But it is of no account. In time, you will come to learn all, and mayhap that day may not be a happy one. All knowledge is not desirable. Some truths are better left unknown. It does not diminish their value as truth one ounce. Some of us, like Maruti here, need to be awakened to our true nature in order to fulfil our dharma. Others, like you Rama, must needs remain blissfully unaware precisely that you may fulfil your dharma! So the wheel of time turns and we all turn with it, topsy- turvy, upside down, inside and out. And the last one standing when the dumroodancer ends his dance at the end of time will not be the strongest or the bravest or even the most aggressive. Simply the loneliest.’
After this ominous speech, none seemed to know what to say. Finally, Hanuman broke the uneasy silence by coming to Rama and kneeling down before him.
‘My lord, you have brought me to this pass, that I have learned the full extent of my true powers. Now, even my king has released me, permitting me to serve you on his behalf. I exhort you now, my lord, command me. Tell me your will and it will be done.’
Rama laid his hands on the vanar’s rock-hard shoulders. ‘Then my first command is that you rise to your feet, and stand by Lakshman and me.’ When Hanuman complied, he embraced him warmly, and smiled at him. ‘I take great pleasure and pride in your self-discovery, my friend. May you tap bottomless reservoirs of strength and agility, and possess the power to achieve all your goals.’
Hanuman inclined his head soberly. ‘If you will it, so shall it be, Lord Rama. You have but to name your desire, and it shall be done. The lord of bears has shown me sights of feats I have performed in ages past, and made me aware of the immense possibilities of my state. If there is anything you desire me to do, only say the word.’
Rama exhaled deeply and turned to look at Lakshman. His brother’s face showed that he knew what Rama was thinking.
‘Hanuman, my friend, our brother Rama hesitates as always to speak his innermost desires. If left to him, he might well urge you to use your newfound abilities to help work on the bridge to proceed faster. And I have no doubt that with your help and Nala’s brilliant new method, we shall make great progress at great speed. But what use would a bridge be if it achieves its goal too late?’
‘Too late?’ Hanuman frowned. ‘I do not understand, Lakshman bhaiya.’
Lakshman explained about Rama’s pre-dawn encounter with their father’s spirit upon the unfinished bridge. ‘So, my friend, if we do not cross to Lanka today itself, we shall be too late to save our sister Sita, Rama’s beloved wife. And if we cannot save Sita, then what use is this bridge, this war, this whole endeavour?’
‘You speak truly, Lakshman bhaiya,’ Hanuman said, his eyes flashing with determination. ‘We must go to Lanka at once. Sita devi must be saved at all costs.’
Nala, who was standing within earshot, scratched his head vigorously. ‘Mayhap if Lord Hanuman expands himself to giant size again, he could help us complete the bridge within the day.’
Prince Angad frowned. ‘Are you certain of that, Nala? Just last night, we talked about this, about how, if you had Hanuman’s vast size to aid you, you could build it in a day or two. You did say, “or two”. Not one day.’
Nala bobbed his head. ‘I cannot be certain. A day. Perhaps two. These are not things that can be known exactly until they are done. Never before has such an endeavour been undertaken to my knowledge. Not even Lord Vishwakarma, architect of the devas—’
Angad cut him off gently. ‘Yes, Nala, we understand the limitations. But if it takes two days, not one. Or even a day and a half? Then what?’
‘Then we shall be too late,’ King Sugreeva intoned sadly. ‘And a victory delayed is a victory denied.’
Many more suggestions and comments flew about, and many more ideas were bandied by all and sundry. The air grew thick with the heat of the debate as everyone sought to use their newfound champion’s strength as well as their own ingenuity to come up with a solution to their problem.
Finally, Jambavan, who had been eating some variety of fruit whole, skin and seeds and all, said through an overfull mouth, ‘Vanars leap.’
Everyone turned to look at the bear king. Jambavan spat violently, spraying a mouthful of discarded seeds and fruit offal over some vanars foolish enough to have crept up too close to the lord of bears. They scurried away, cheeka-ing indignantly. Sakra was among them, of course. But he stopped after retreating a few yards, still eager to watch and listen to what the lords were saying. Jambavan looked around with a bearish grin. ‘Is that not what vanars do when the far branch is too distant to swing to?’
Everyone stared at him incredulously.
‘Leap? Leap to where?’ Angad asked. ‘What far branch do you speak of, Lord Jambavan?’
Jambavan snorted. A few flecks issued from his black nostrils; they might have been fragments of fruit. ‘To the branch of the nearest coconut tree, Prince Angad! What do you think I mean?’
‘To Lanka?’ Lakshman asked. ‘You mean we should leap across the ocean to Lanka?’ He looked around quickly, aware that he had said something laughable.
The bear king raised his dark eyes to the sky. ‘Devas grant us mercy. Not all of us, Lakshman, my lad. I said vanars leap. Not mortals. Or bears. We rksaas would rather get our hind fur wet than do any jumping around, thank you, sir. Leaping is what vanars and monkeys do.’ He added brightly, ‘And fish. Lovely leaping silvery salmon, fat and juicy and soft-bellied salmon, leaping all the way up to—’
Angad interrupted hastily. ‘You cannot mean that, Lord Jambavan. It is quite impossible.’
Jambavan looked at him with a dark frown. ‘Would you like to accompany me to the glacial rivers? I will show you such leaping salmon as would make your mouth salivate and your stomach growl with anticipation, big as bears almost, and silver-perfect, fat and—’
Sugreeva came to Angad’s rescue. ‘He means to Lanka. It is quite impossible to leap all the way to Lanka, Lord Jambavan. It is a distance of many yojanas, several dozens of miles. No vanar in history could leap that far. It is hardly akin to leaping to the far branch.’
‘Oh.’ Jambavan’s thoughts seemed to linger a moment longer on those lovely leaping salmon. Then he shrugged. ‘You’re right. Can’t be done. Forget about it.’
‘Forget about it?’ Lakshman repeated. ‘But it was you who just suggested—’
‘Yes, yes, boy,’ the bear king said testily. ‘Are you suggesting that I don’t know what I just suggested? Of course I do. I suggested that we all leap to Lanka. Which, I agree is quite impossible. Even the vanars cannot make that great a leap.’
Everyone looked at one another, nonplussed.
Jambavan turned and scanned their frowning faces.
‘So it’s settled, then.’
Rama looked at him benevolently. ‘What is settled, Jambavan? Pray, speak more clearly, my lord bear, not all of us possess your silvery salmon swiftness of mind.’
Jambavan chortled. ‘Well spoken, Lord Rama. That’s the way to get a bear to open up. Praise him. Praise him to the skies. Or scratch his back. All bears love a good back-scratch.’ He paused, as if seeking the thread of his thoughts, then went on. ‘I meant, it’s obvious then that we cannot all leap across the ocean to Lanka. And leaping is the only way to make the trip in so short a while
. So, it is settled, then. Only Hanuman will do it.’
Hanuman stared at Jambavan. ‘I, my lord?’
‘Aye, Maruti. You will have to make the leap to Lanka. You must go there and fetch Sita. It’s the only way.’
TWELVE
They stood on Mount Mahendra, saying their goodbyes to Hanuman before he went. Rama waited until everyone had said their words and left the mountain. Jambavan had told them that they must give the vanar sufficient distance to expand himself and warned that the force of his leap would endanger anyone who stood too close. The eagerly watching armies had been ordered to retreat to a distance of two miles from Mahendra, keeping the entire mountain and a half mile on either side clear. Now, as King Sugreeva, Angad and the others strode quickly down the mountainside, Jambavan was close on their heels, shouting orders to his bears to make sure the entire area was clear of all gawkers, including that pesky half-brother of Hanuman.
Hanuman’s eyes moistened as Rama came before him. Rama moved to embrace him, but the vanar was quicker, bending and touching Rama’s feet to take his blessings. Rama did not protest but touched the vanar’s matted hair gently, conferring on him the traditional aashirwaad that all elders passed on to their juniors. Then Rama raised him up and embraced him. His voice shook as he gripped the vanar’s shoulders tightly.
‘My friend, my brother, you are now Sita’s champion. She depends on you to survive this day. Go to Lanka and seek her out. Do what you must but rescue her. She is my heart’s blood, my life itself. Without her, I am nothing. If anything should happen to her, I will die a living death. I entreat you, save her and bring her home to me. I shall be eternally thankful to you if you accomplish this task.’
Hanuman took Rama’s hand and kissed it. ‘My lord, you have no need to thank me. What I go to do now is my dharma. It is my duty to serve you. Rescuing Sita devi is a task I now realise I must have been born to accomplish. This must surely be the whole intent of my existence. I wonder if even Lord Brahma knew that someday you would require someone to accomplish this task and so he ordained that the deva of wind, Vayu, should sire me. It feels like the fulfilment of my entire life’s purpose. Even if I should lose my life in the process, I will not fail you. I will return here with Sita devi or I will not return at all.’
Rama squeezed the vanar’s shoulder. ‘Nay, return you shall. For whatever transpires in Lanka, you must report to me everything you see and hear. I pray that you will be in time to save her, but if for any reason, things should go amiss, you must still return and tell me every scrap of news you have gathered, good or bad, terrible or wonderful. If the devas have willed that I will lose a wife today, then I would not want to lose a friend and ally as well. Promise me that you will return, with or without Sita.’
Hanuman breathed heavily. ‘I will return, my lord. But it will be with your cherished one. Even if I must battle all Lanka to free her from Ravana’s clutches. This I promise you, in the name of all that I hold dear.’
Rama looked at him with glistening eyes. ‘Go then, my friend. Go with the gods’ grace and my blessings. Go now and return victorious quickly to us. I will count the heartbeats until I see your face again.’
He embraced Hanuman once more, then turned away, walking quickly down the mountain. Lakshman, who had already said his farewell, walked with him. Farther downhill, Jambavan was roaring at a clutch of mischievous vanars who had been flushed out of a grove where they had been skulking, trying to get a ringside seat of Hanuman’s leap. Sakra, predictably, was one of them. The bear king trundled down the steep slope, roaring and windmilling his arms, chasing the shrieking vanars before him.
‘Rama—Nala and Sugreeva and Angad have suggested that we continue with the bridge even as we wait for Hanuman to return. There is no point in sitting around and doing nothing.’
‘Well thought,’ Rama replied. ‘The work will keep our minds occupied while we wait.’
‘Exactly. And we do not know how long we may wait.’
Lakshman did not elaborate on that cryptic statement, but Rama understood. Sita’s crisis was today, and they all prayed that it would be averted. But for all they knew, Hanuman might return in two days or twenty, or never. For that matter, who knew how long it would take to reach Lanka? None of them had any knowledge of such fantastical things as leaping across an ocean. At what speed would the vanar travel? When would he reach his destination? And then there were the myriad uncertainties of what he might encounter in Lanka itself. Who knew how heavily fortified the island-kingdom really was? Or how many rakshasas and other asuras now resided there? As Sugreeva had put it in his sage way, where Ravana was concerned, the only certain thing was that nothing was certain. Lies and subterfuge, deceit and deception, smoke and mirrors. ‘Sab maya hain,’ the vanar king had said disdainfully, ‘all is illusion with the lord of Lanka.’
‘Of course,’ Rama said as they continued down the mountain, ‘if he does return with Sita safe and sound, then there probably won’t be much use for the bridge.’
Lakshman glanced at him sharply. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean, what use will it be to have a bridge when we don’t need to cross the ocean any more?’
Lakshman stopped abruptly. ‘Rama, I don’t understand your meaning. What does Hanuman’s mission have to do with our crossing to Lanka?’
‘Well, if his mission is successful, then it makes the crossing redundant.’
Lakshman frowned, adjusted his rig on his shoulder, and shook his head. ‘I still don’t understand you. Even if Hanuman should return with Sita, and I pray that he does do so, we will still have to cross to Lanka and fight the war.’
‘Why, Lakshman?’
Lakshman stared at him. ‘Why? You are asking me why? Because he kidnapped Sita, brother! Because he came to our house and took away your wife, my sister-in-law and carried her off to his fortress as if she was no more than a spoil of war or a trinket he had filched! That’s why. What more reason do you need?’
‘Lakshman, that is why we are sending Hanuman to fetch her. If he succeeds, then we will have undone what Ravana did. We will have Sita back home safe and sound, and this nightmare will be over. We have no need to wage war.’
‘What do you mean? Of course, we need to wage war. We must wage war!’
‘Why do I need to wage war once Sita is returned safely to me? She was the reason for this whole campaign. As long as she is brought back safe and sound, I have no more quarrel with Lanka.’
Lakshman exploded indignantly. ‘And what about the insult suffered by you? By me as well? What about the stain on our honour by having a woman of our house abducted and taken by force into a strange man’s hold? Who will avenge that?’
Rama sighed. ‘Brother, we are not the only ones wronged in this affair. Do not forget, we killed Taraka and her hybrid offspring and cleansed the Bhayanak-van of Ravana’s influence. We wiped out Ravana’s asura armies at Mithila. We humiliated and defaced his cousin Supanakha at Chitrakut. And we slaughtered all her rakshasa hordes during the years of our exile. Even Vali, whom I killed at Kiskindha, was a secret ally of Ravana. We have done our share of harm to him and his forces. We have inflicted many more wounds upon him than he has upon us. Why, we did not even know that Ravana still lived until he appeared that day and abducted Sita! This is a war we have won already, many times over.’
‘Yes, I thought so too. But with this one demoniac act he has altered the balance in his favour once more. By casting this slur upon our reputation and family name, he has compelled us to wage war. It is the only honourable thing to do, Rama. We cannot back down now, whether we get Sita back or not. Safe and sound, or not.’
He did not have to spell out what he meant by that last statement. Rama swallowed, feeling his gorge rise at the thought of what Sita might have undergone while in the lord of Lanka’s clutches—what she might be undergoing even now as they stood here on the slope of Mahendra, arguing. ‘Lakshman, what is it you seek? What do you expect to get by waging this war
? Get Sita back, right? Well, if Hanuman gets her back, then what more do we want?’
‘Justice, Rama! To clear our name. What will the world say, today, tomorrow, or a thousand years hence, if we let a vanar save your wife and then go home meekly and quietly? What will Ravana think? We will be branded cowards, yellow-bellies, cravens. They will say we did not have the stomach to fight for her ourselves. We sent a hireling to do it for us. And then we went home with our tails between our legs, without avenging our honour.’
Rama shook his head. ‘We do not need to prove ourselves. We have killed enough to be remembered for a thousand years, if history chooses to remember. People are fickle. Today we are heroes. Tomorrow we may be branded mass murderers. Indeed, to the asura races, we are probably branded genocidal killers already! We do not need to slaughter more rakshasas to prove our honour.’
Lakshman slammed his fist into his own open palm in frustration. ‘Who cares about the asuras and the rakshasas? We never sought war with them. They were the transgressors. We only defended ourselves and our people.’
‘And in this war, whom are we defending?’ Rama asked gently, trying to calm Lakshman down.
‘Our honour! Our family name.’ Lakshman paused a moment, seeking to control his tone. ‘Rama, I understand your reluctance to engage in another war with no certain outcome. I am our father’s son too. I know what Dasaratha taught us: war is the last resort of desperate and foolish kings. But in this case too, we have been wronged as surely as if Ravana had led an invading force into the heart of Ayodhya. By abducting Sita, he has struck at the heart of our entire house. If we do not go to Lanka and make reparation for this violation, people will say that the Ikshvaku Suryavansha dynasty does not defend the honour of their women. That a rakshasa can enter their house and carry off their daughters, or sisters, or mothers, or wives, and the men do nothing to avenge the dishonour. It is our dharma to make reparation for this wrong done to us.’
‘And how much is the price of that reparation? When will our honour be sufficiently redeemed? When we have killed another fourteen thousand rakshasas? Or fourteen lakh, if there are so many left in Lanka? And even if we succeed in wiping out all of Lanka’s rakshasas, how do we know that some other cousin of Ravana, or some son of his or brother, will not hear of it and come to seek reparation for the loss of his house’s honour? At what point does the cycle of revenge end? What if revenge itself is the worst crime of all? For, by enacting vengeance, a man perpetuates the cycle of sin. Only by forgiving and forgetting can we end the killing and the endless seeking of retribution. I say, let the bridge be built, for bridges are necessary to unite and unify. But once Sita is returned to us, let there be no war. For war serves no man well, and only breeds more war in turn. It is the instrument of death and devastation, and has no relation to life, love or dharma.’
RAMAYANA Part 3_PRINCE AT WAR Page 26