Prem Purana

by Usha Narayanan

‘That means that there is something to betray!’ he exclaimed, shaking her fiercely again.

  ‘You must trust her, you must!’ the girl whispered. Her eyes blazed then in a final spark of rebellion. She would speak up for her queen who had saved her from evil men such as the one standing before her. ‘Do you not know that she is a hundred thousand times superior to you? You were never worthy of her love and loyalty!’

  Ravana was dumbfounded for a moment and then he exploded in incendiary rage. He stabbed the girl in the chest with terrible force. Kumuda uttered a gurgling cry and collapsed, just as Mandodari came running in, having discovered that Ketu had dragged the girl away.

  ‘Kumuda!’ she screamed, falling to the ground beside the lifeless girl and placing her head on her lap. ‘How could you do this?’ she shouted at Ravana. ‘You killed an innocent who knew nothing but her love for me! Your ungoverned rage has changed you into a beast, Ravana! No prayers of mine can salvage your cruel soul anymore!’ Her tears fell unheeded as she closed Kumuda’s eyes with a trembling hand.

  But Ravana’s rage was unabated as he could not accept that he had been thwarted by Kumuda’s courage and loyalty. ‘Tell me what she wouldn’t. You must!’ he roared. Mandodari raised her head and glared at him.

  She laid her shawl on the ground like a pillow and gently lowered Kumuda’s head onto it. Then she rose to her feet, majestic like a lioness protecting her young. ‘What have you accomplished by killing her?’ she asked in a low, fierce voice. ‘What is it you doubt? My love or my chastity? It is you who deserted me to roam the world to defile women and add to your evil karma. I have remained in your gilded prison, besieged by spies and jealous queens, pining for you. You have returned now after months of absence only to insult me.’ Her voice rose as her anger increased. ‘Are you still the man I married, the one who searched the universe until he found me? Are you the gallant who defied my parents and the voice from the gods in order to marry me? All I see now is a demented rakshasa whose hands are stained by the blood of innocents and whose aura is dark with sin. I am weary and desolate. Leave me alone so that I may grieve my loss.’

  There was silence then while Mandodari stood with her head bowed. There was nothing he could say in reply. He paused in thought for a moment and then walked away.

  Days and months passed. An impenetrable wall had risen between Ravana and his adored queen. Mandodari still felt his eyes watching her every movement. He stationed more guards around her chamber, and a fierce rakshasi took Kumuda’s place in her antapura. She often saw Ketu lurking in the shadows or threatening her maids. But there was nothing for him to discover. Kumuda had taken her secret with her.

  Ravana brought home young princesses from many foreign lands and cavorted with them before his wife’s eyes. But she remained listless, tortured by her own pain and guilt. She screamed in her sleep, feeling the dagger pierce her own breast. ‘You died for me, sweet Kumuda,’ she moaned. ‘Forgive me, dear one, for I could not protect you.’

  Now Ravana was always angry, always aggressive. His vanity would not let him accept that his own wife defied him with her silence. What had he not given her? Had he not brought her the rarest treasures on earth and heaven? Had he not proclaimed to the world that Mandodari was more beautiful than Parvati herself? And then, she had repaid him by denying him a daughter and keeping secrets from him.

  Yet, he could not lay rough hands on her, for he still remembered the sweet-faced innocence that had captured his heart in Kailasa. He recalled his delight when he had found her again in the jungle, after he had almost given up hope. Her startled eyes had met his and the deep blush that had stained her creamy cheeks had matched the hibiscus she wore in her hair. Ravana yearned to return to those idyllic days when love had not been marred by doubt and suspicion.

  It was then that the fates intervened. A visitor to their palace brought him some news that would change the course of their lives forever.

  8

  Beauteous Sita

  Ravana sat resplendent like Surya, on a throne hewn out of a magnificent emerald that he had discovered in a fierce jungle guarded by black panthers. He wore ten glittering crowns on his heads. A massive necklace studded with giant rubies stretched from one ten-armed shoulder to the other. His chest was bare, revealing the deep scars he had received in his battle with Indra, caused by his enemy’s thunderbolt and by his elephant, Airavata. Surya and Agni stood before him with their hands folded in respect; Vasuki, the emperor of the nagas, stood reverently before him with an offering of precious gems. Mandodari sat beside the king on his throne.

  A rasping wail broke the fearful silence that prevailed in the court. A huge woman with straggling hair and a harsh face bounded in like a dark wind.

  ‘Surpanakha!’ gasped the courtiers, who knew her reputation for ferocity. Then they noticed that her ears had been chopped off and that only a mangled stump remained of her nose. Which man or beast had been responsible for this foolhardy attack on the rakshasi?

  They had heard that Ravana’s sister was living in the dark forests of Dandaka with her asura cousins, Khara and Dushana. With them resided many dire demons, who killed and ate men and animals with equal relish, and destroyed the ashrams of the sages who lived there. Why had she come here now after so many years?

  ‘So the great Ravana sits here making love to his unworthy wife while his sister is abused and mutilated?’ she taunted.

  Ravana’s hand flashed to his sword, but then he satisfied himself with a warning growl. ‘Speak with respect to your king and his queen,’ he said. ‘Have you forgotten that it was Mandodari who supported your marriage to Vidyutjihva, the scion of my enemy clan?’

  ‘Yes, I remember. Perhaps it is you who has forgotten that you killed my husband when you invaded the Danava kingdom in your quest to become emperor!’ she retorted. ‘And then, when I raised my voice in protest, you banished me to the Dandaka forest.’

  ‘Why do you speak of things that are long past?’ asked Ravana, his voice scornful. ‘Tell me why you are here now or return again to your foul lair.’

  ‘I came here with the hope that you still had some love for your sister,’ said Surpanakha, her chest heaving. ‘Do you not care to find out what two humans did to me? Or do you prefer to remain ignorant of everything that goes on beyond the doors of your harem? Your monstrous ego clouds your senses. Your artful ministers and spies tell you only what you want to hear. Meanwhile, a huge calamity is waiting to happen.’

  ‘Tell us, sister,’ Mandodari intervened softly, knowing that her husband would not hesitate to throttle his sister if she continued in this vein. ‘The king is always eager to know what is happening in his kingdom.’

  ‘Then listen!’ said Surpanakha. ‘A lone mortal razed our clan in the forest, killing fourteen thousand rakshasas, including our cousins Khara and Dushana.’

  ‘Tell me about this man,’ said Ravana, his face as still as a snake’s before it attacks.

  How can he be so calm? wondered Surpanakha. Did he know already what had transpired in Dandaka? And was that derision in his eyes? Maybe he had heard of her disgrace. Her fists clenched and then loosened. She must be crafty if she wanted events to unfold the way she wanted.

  ‘The man’s name is Rama and he is the son of King Dasaratha of Ayodhya,’ she began, her tone softening as she recalled the stranger’s glorious form. ‘He wears a hermit’s garments, but his body is powerful and his arrows fly like lightning. Though he spared me from attack as I am a woman, his brother was not so noble. A magnificent warrior like his brother, Lakshmana maimed me cruelly and without cause.’

  ‘Without cause? What tales you tell, adored sister!’ Ravana mocked. ‘Did you not flaunt yourself before the brothers in the form of an apsara, trying to seduce them? And then, when this attempt failed, you tried to kill Rama’s wife so that you could take her place. Lakshmana attacked you only then and you ran to my men seeking to avenge your humiliation. If you had told me how desperately you needed to bed someone, I would hav
e sent you a hundred rakshasas, sister. Now, my brave cousins and my men have been sacrificed at the altar of your lust.’

  Someone has told him everything. Surpanakha trembled. Even being his sister would not protect her if he grew wrathful.

  Ravana’s eyes glared at her and his forked tongues darted out of his mouths with a hissing sound. She shuddered, realizing that she had made a mistake. Now all was lost.

  ‘Our uncle Akampana came to me with your shameful tale,’ he said. ‘To what depths have you sunk, Surpanakha?’

  His contempt slashed at her like a whip. Rage and hatred flared high in her breast. She had to humble not just Rama and Lakshmana but also her cruel brother. Ravana had blighted her happiness by killing her husband. And he dared to speak of her lust when all the realms were agog with tales of his escapades. She would provoke him to fight against the valiant humans, for if there was anyone who could kill Ravana, it was they.

  Her eyes glinted. She knew how she could ensure this.

  ‘Forgive me, brother,’ said Surpanakha, casting down her eyes and looking penitent. ‘I spoke hastily, disappointed as I was in my quest. Akampana brought you only part of the tale. The reason I approached Rama and his wife in the forest was that I was thinking of you, as always. I wished to regain your affection by bringing you a rare gift—the most beautiful woman on earth.’ She cast a quick glance at his face and looked down again to hide her smile. She had seen desire spark instantly in Ravana’s eyes when she had mentioned the woman. ‘I told Rama that I was the sister of Ravana, the conqueror of the three lokas. I told him that his wife Sita belonged with you in your palace, and not in the wilderness with him. I exhorted him to surrender her to you, telling him that you would reward him with riches beyond imagination.’

  Ravana listened to her with rapt attention while Mandodari felt a dark sense of foreboding. ‘Do you know what they said in reply, Ravana?’ asked Surpanakha, her eyes fixed on his face. ‘The brothers laughed uproariously and mocked me. “My wife to be given up to a rakshasa king?” jeered Rama. “Tell this pretender that his days will be numbered if he were to cast even a single glance at my Sita. He may call himself emperor, but that is only because he has not faced Dasaratha’s sons in battle. Run away now, rakshasi, if you wish to save your life.”’

  Ravana’s eyes smouldered when he heard what Rama had said. Who was this puny human who dared laugh at Lankeshwara? He would go to Dandaka at once with his army and destroy the human and his brother. Before he left, however, he would gather all the information he could get about Rama.

  He encouraged Surpanakha to tell him more, and she was happy to do so. ‘When the brothers refused my friendly overtures, I took the form of an apsara so that I could get close to them and then kill them. After that, Sita would be helpless and I could bring her easily to you. Such is her beauty that it captivated even a rakshasi like me. Her lustrous skin glows like a magnolia blossom. Her lush body is more inviting than an apsara’s. Her lips are scarlet like the petals of a hibiscus. A treasure like her belongs in your harem, Ravana. I would boldly say that Sita is worth a thousand Mandodaris!’

  Surpanakha saw Ravana’s face darken at her gibe at Mandodari and hurried to turn his thoughts in the right direction again.

  ‘You will find it easy to slay the brothers, no doubt, but I have a better plan in mind,’ she said. ‘The best way to take revenge on Rama for killing our rakshasas is to abduct his wife. He loves her desperately and will roam the jungles looking for her. Meanwhile you can delight in the caresses of the beauteous Sita. Even if Rama manages to follow you to Lanka, it will be child’s play for you to kill him and his brother.’

  Ravana nodded slowly, turning over the plan in his mind and finding nothing to quibble about. Having planted the notion in his head, Surpanakha decided to retreat. ‘I will return to Dandaka and await your coming,’ she said, bowing to him and tossing a scornful glance at Mandodari before leaving the court.

  ‘Pray listen to me, husband,’ said Mandodari, seeing how his face had been transformed at the idea of another conquest. ‘Remember Vedavati’s curse and Nalakubara’s. Sage Pulastya too warned you that abusing a woman would destroy not just you but also our children and grandchildren. Do not pay heed to your sister’s words which spring from her desire to avenge her husband’s death at your hands. Think twice before making an enemy of a man who has singlehandedly routed your fiercest fighters.’

  ‘Are you done speaking or is there more, foolish woman?’ stormed Ravana. ‘You insult me with your doubts and your carping criticism. I forgive you because it is in the nature of women to weaken men with their cowardice and foolishness. How can a curse bring down mighty Ravana? How can two feeble men vanquish an emperor who has never been defeated? Remember also that my mighty brother Kumbhakarna and our valiant sons fight by my side. Leave me now, my queen, and reflect on the many occasions when you have failed me.’

  ‘How easily you say that I have failed you, my lord!’ Mandodari said, biting her lips to keep from crying. She walked away quietly, her head held high, for she had done what she had to. The future lay hidden in the mists of time. She could only pray that Ravana did not tempt fate with his actions.

  Ravana sped to his uncle Maricha, who dwelt in the Dandaka forest, and forced him to play a role in his diabolic plan. ‘You will take the form of a brilliant golden deer and entice Sita, uncle,’ he said. ‘When Rama follows you in order to capture the deer for his wife, you will lure him and his brother far away. I will use the opportunity to seize Sita.’

  Maricha feared Rama’s prowess, but could not turn down the command of his demon-king. He transformed himself into a deer and carried out his role to perfection. When Rama followed him deep into the forest, Maricha called for help in Rama’s voice. A panicky Sita forced Lakshmana to go to his brother’s aid, leaving her alone.

  Ravana then crept close to Rama’s ashram and looked for the maiden whom his sister had described in such ecstatic terms. He saw Sita’s feet first, so dainty and graceful that he could hardly lift his eyes from them. She came out of her hut then, and he gazed spellbound at her. The moon was gleaming brightly in the skies, but before him shone another moon that was even more brilliant. Sita’s skin was the froth of the cosmic ocean. Her long hair rippled like the Ganga in spate. Her neck was graceful like Vishnu’s conch and her body seemed sculpted from deep sea pearls. Her doe eyes glowed with the light of sapphires and set his heart on fire.

  But something about her made Ravana pause before approaching her. Sita had a rare incandescence like that of the sacrificial fire, and he heard Mandodari’s voice in his head, warning him to back away. ‘Slake your desire if you must, but only with women who will gladly surrender to you, my king,’ she seemed to be saying.

  However, Ravana was drawn irresistibly to Sita as if they were tied by a mystical bond. So powerful was her spell that he wondered for a moment if this was the eternal love he had been promised by Shiva.

  He could not stop himself, nor did he want to. He would seize her now and not give room to fanciful notions. Sita was but a woman like many others he had wooed and won. She would soon forget the hermit Rama when she reigned by his side.

  Ravana took one step forward. And then another. He snatched her up in his arms and carried her struggling to his aerial chariot.

  Sita screamed for help. ‘Rama, save me! Lakshmana, where are you? Beloved peacock, bring my lord to me. O mighty devas, will you not save me from the demon?’ she cried. She tried to leap from the chariot as it climbed into the skies but Ravana held her down fiercely with a warning hiss. His forked tongues and fangs terrified her into silence.

  Onward flew the demon over hill and dale while Sita sobbed, wondering how her Rama would find her. And below on earth, the rivers wept as they thundered down mountain slopes. Tigers and lions tore at the shadow of the passing chariot with fangs and claws. The giant bird Jatayu obstructed the rakshasa’s path, but lost his wings and later his life. Sita said a prayer for the valiant bird and
cast her jewels to the ground one by one so that they would guide her Rama in his search.

  The chariot flew over the turquoise ocean to arrive at Ravana’s jade island with its soaring walls and towers. However, Sita could see nothing as her eyes were blinded by tears.

  ‘Stop weeping, beautiful one,’ said Ravana. ‘Look upon the empire that I lay at your feet. Behold the mansions I have built for my queens. One shines with the lustre of pearls, another glows with the light of amethysts. I will build you a palace that glitters with diamonds. Forget your mortal husband who lives like a beggar in the forest, chased out of his kingdom by a weak king and his vicious wife.’

  Sita sobbed, realizing that she was now completely at Ravana’s mercy. The chariot descended in a beautiful garden and several rakshasis appeared at his command to take charge of their prisoner. ‘You will stay in this ashokavana until I build you a palace,’ he said.

  He turned away reluctantly then, realizing that his new conquest had made him forget Mandodari and all his promises to her. He would now direct his energies towards convincing his wife to accept Sita so that the three of them could live peacefully together.

  However, when Ravana entered his wife’s chamber, Mandodari fended him off with raised arms and horrified eyes.

  ‘What have you done?’ she shuddered. ‘The stench of evil clinging to you overpowers my senses.’

  ‘Sita, the fair daughter of King Janaka, is now held safely in the ashokavana just beyond our palace gates,’ he said, unwilling to describe Sita as another man’s wife. ‘I have abducted her and brought her here to be my wife and your sister.’

  ‘Alas, you have forgotten Vedavati and my warning to you,’ said Mandodari. ‘The wives of all those who died in your battles and all the women you forced apart from their loved ones curse you. And now, you have exceeded all bounds by abducting the wife of Rama, who the world believes is Vishnu himself! Do you not realize that in your desire to embrace this woman you embrace death? Give her up before it is too late, my lord. Seek Sita’s forgiveness and return her to Rama. Or prepare to face your doom!’