Valmiki's Ramayana

by Vālmīki,Sattar, Arshia

  Saramā’s words brought happiness to Sītā, who had been parched with grief like the dry earth. Saramā wanted to make her friend happy and she knew how to do that, so she said with a smile, ‘I can easily go to Rāma and come back without being seen. I can find out how he is and give him your good wishes. Neither the wind nor the king of the birds can keep pace as I fly through the sky!’

  ‘I know you would do anything for me,’ said Sītā, her voice sweet and pleasant with no trace of grief. ‘If you really want to help me, then I would like to know what Rāma is planning. Wicked Rāvaṇa keeps me confused with his magic, as if I had drunk alcohol. He threatens and intimidates me and keeps me guarded by fierce and cruel rākṣasīs. I am constantly fearful and suspicious and my mind is never at ease. I fear him even though I am in the aśoka grove. If you can find out Rāvaṇa’s plans and his intentions and report them to me, you will have done me a great favour!’

  Saramā wiped Sītā’s tear-stained face with a gentle hand and said sweetly, ‘If this is what you want, I shall leave immediately and find out about the enemy’s plans!’ Saramā went to where Rāvaṇa was in council with his ministers and listened to their conversations. She heard all their plans and came quickly back to the aśoka grove.

  Sītā embraced her and made her sit down. ‘Sit here comfortably and tell me all about vile Rāvaṇa’s plans!’ she said and Sarama reported all she had heard. ‘Rāvaṇa’s mother and his oldest advisor Aviddha have told him several times that he should give you up but Rāvaṇa is determined not to do so,’ began Saramā. ‘That wicked creature and his advisors have decided that you will not be returned until he has been killed in battle. Rāma will kill them all with his countless arrows. Then he will rescue you and take you back to Ayodhyā, dark-eyed lady!’

  At that very moment there was a huge sound that seemed to shake the earth and the entire rākṣasa army trembled. The rākṣasas were thoroughly disheartened, knowing that their king’s transgressions had left them little hope.

  The blaring of conch shells and the beating of drums announced the arrival of Rāma, destroyer of enemy cities. Rāvaṇa heard the sound and fell to thinking. Then he said to his ministers, ‘I have heard all you have to say about Rāma crossing the ocean, his courage and the strength of his army. But I also know that all of you are invincible in battle.’

  ‘A king who is learned in statecraft can rule for years and keep his enemies at bay,’ said Mālyavān, who was Rāvaṇa’s grandfather and was old and wise. ‘He declares war or peace according to the circumstances and through that, he increases his own power. A king should wage war only against those who are weaker. He should make alliances with his equals and with those that are superior to him. An enemy should never be underestimated. Rāvaṇa, I think we should make peace with Rāma. Sītā has become an obsession with you! Give her back! You should not oppose someone who has the gods and the celestial beings praying for his victory.

  ‘Brahmā created only two ways of life, dharma for the gods and adharma for asuras and rākṣasas. When dharma vanquishes adharma, it is the kṛtayuga and when adharma triumphs, it is the kaliyuga. When you conquered the world, you allowed adharma to flourish and this made our enemies stronger. The adharma you nurtured now works against us and strengthens the gods. The smoke from the ṛṣis’ sacrifices covers all the directions and dissipates the power of the rākṣasas. In all the sacred areas, good and pious men have been keeping firm vows and practising austerities; that has brought bad times upon the rākṣasas.

  ‘I have seen terrifying portents of doom that signify the destruction of the rākṣasas. Fierce clouds rumble harshly, striking fear into the hearts of the people as they rain blood all over Lankā. Tears fall from the eyes of our horses and elephants. Our battle banners are faded and dusty, they do not shine like they used to. Jackals, vultures and beasts of prey howl hideously. They are coming into Lankā and gathering in large numbers. Women are dreaming about evil spirits who laugh and grimace and bare their white teeth. The spirits call out to the women and toss their household goods around. Dogs are eating the offerings meant for the gods. Cows give birth to asses, mongooses are producing rats. Cats mate with tigers, dogs with pigs, kinnaras with rākṣasas. White birds with red legs wander around the city foretelling the death of the rākṣasas.

  ‘I am sure Viṣṇu has taken the form of a mortal and arrived here as Rāma. There simply cannot be a human being like him! Make an alliance with Rāma, Rāvaṇa!’ The distinguished Mālyavān fell silent and watched Rāvaṇa as he thought the matter over.

  But Rāvaṇa was impelled by his own fate and ignored Mālyavān’s sound advice. He frowned, his face distorted with anger. His eyes blazed as he said, ‘You may be well-meaning, but your advice favours the enemy. You have spoken harshly and against my interests. And you expect me to listen to you? How can you think so highly of Rāma’s powers? He is a mere mortal, alone and unaided, backed only by forest animals! His father has renounced him and he lives in the forest!

  ‘And how can you think so little of me? I am the king of the rākṣasas! Even the gods fear me. I am stronger than Rāma in every way! Sītā is like Śrī without her lotus and I was the one who carried her off from the forest. You expect me to give her back because I am frightened? Watch! In a few days I will have killed Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa and Sugrīva and all the monkeys.

  ‘How can Rāvaṇa be afraid when no one, not even the gods, dare face me in battle? I may break, but I will never bend! This may be a flaw in my character, but it is who I am. So what if Rāma built a bridge across the ocean? Why should that frighten me? Now that Rāma has crossed over with the monkeys, I swear to you, he shall not return alive!’

  Mālyavān saw that Rāvaṇa was angry and in a foul mood and so he did not press the matter further. He invoked the blessings of the gods for Rāvaṇa’s victory, as was proper, and taking permission, returned to his own apartments.

  Rāvaṇa went back to his consultations with his ministers about the strategy to fortify Lankā. Prahasta was placed at the eastern gate and Mahāpārśva and Mahodara were sent to the southern gate. Rāvaṇa sent his son, Indrajit the sorcerer, to the western gate with a huge armed contingent. Śuka and Sāraṇa were sent to the northern gate and Rāvaṇa told them that he himself would join them there. The mighty Virūpākṣa was placed at the centre of the city with an enormous force of fierce rākṣasas. Now that he had made these arrangements, the king of the rākṣasas deluded himself into believing that he had ensured his safety. He accepted his ministers good wishes for victory and after dismissing them, he returned to his opulent apartments.

  * The significance of Sugrīva’s neck being broken and Hanumān’s smashed jaw lies in their names. ‘Sūgrīva’ means ‘the one with the beautiful neck’ and ‘Hanūmān’ means ‘the one with the jaw.’

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Meanwhile, Rāma was organizing his forces and giving them last-minute instructions. ‘No one will appear on the battlefield in the form of a man. This will be the distinguishing feature of the monkey army. When we see a monkey, we shall know him to be our own person. There are only seven of us who will fight in the form of men: me, Lakṣmaṇa, Vibhīṣaṇa and his four companions!’

  ‘Let us go to the top of the Suvela mountain,’ continued Rāma. ‘It is very pleasant. We can spend the night there. From its summit, I will be able to see Lankā, the home of the creature who abducted my wife and brought about his own death!’ Rāma and the monkey leaders went to the top of the mountain and spent the night there. They saw the magnificent city of Lankā with its mansions and ramparts and tall gateways and they also observed that it was guarded by heavily armed rākṣasas.

  The next morning, Rāma spoke to Lakṣmaṇa. ‘Let us begin the preparations for battle. We must establish control over pools of clear water and the forests filled with fruit. We must also deploy our commanders and their troops and give th
em their positions.

  ‘I see ill omens that portend the deaths of thousands of rākṣasas and monkeys and I see signs that indicate destruction for the worlds. A mighty gale blows, the earth trembles, the mountains quake and trees fall to the ground. Clouds form in the shape of beasts of prey and carrion eaters and they rumble harshly as they rain down bloody water. The evening sky burns red as sandal and fireballs fall from the sun. These signs indicate the end of the yuga, Lakṣmaṇa! Let us surround Rāvaṇa’s impregnable city without any further delay and lay siege to it!’

  Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa quickly descended from the mountain. Rāma looked out over his own immense army that no enemy could hope to defeat. When the right moment arrived, Rāma took up his bow, placed himself at the head of the army and started to move towards Lankā. Vibhīṣaṇa, Hanumān, Nala, Jāmbavān, Nīla and Lakṣmaṇa followed behind him and after them came the huge army of monkeys and bears that covered the earth. As large as elephants, the monkeys armed themselves with mountain peaks, rocks and huge trees.

  After a while, they reached the outskirts of Lankā. The monkey army settled into its positions and laid siege to the city. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa positioned themselves at Lankā’s northern gate which was as tall as a mountain and particularly well fortified. Rāma chose this gate for himself and Lakṣmaṇa because he knew that Rāvaṇa had placed himself there, and because there was no one else capable of sealing off the gate. Nīla, Mainda and Dvivida were placed at the eastern gate, the mighty warrior Angada took the southern gate with Ṛṣabha, Gavākṣa, Gaja and Gavya. The mightiest monkey of them all, Hanumān, guarded the western gate with Pramāthi, Praghasa and other valiant warriors. Sugrīva himself took the centre with a band of monkeys that were as swift as Garuḍa and as powerful as the wind.

  Fierce monkeys whose teeth were like tigers’ fangs picked up their weapons, eager and ready to do battle. They used their nails and teeth to fight, stood with their tails erect and twisted their faces and bodies into terrifying shapes. Some of them had the strength of ten elephants, others had the strength of a hundred and still others had the strength of a thousand. The army consisted of hundreds of millions of monkeys and it was like a swarm of locusts that covered the earth and sky. The hills that surrounded Lankā were covered with monkeys and even the wind could not get past these great warriors who were armed with trees.

  The rākṣasas were stunned when they found themselves surrounded by monkeys who were as large as clouds and were equal to Indra in valour. Their roaring could only be compared to the ocean at high tide and the walls and gateways of Lankā as well as the hills and forests resounded with their noise.

  On the advice of Vibhīṣaṇa, who was skilled in the arts of kingship, Rāma called Angada and gave him a special task. ‘My child, go to the ten-headed Rāvaṇa in Lankā and give him my message. Enter Lankā without fear and tell him this:

  ‘“O rākṣasa! You have been deluded and have done terrible things against the ṛṣis, the gods, gandharvas, apsarases, nāgas, yakṣas and kings. But now the time has come for the destruction of your power and majesty! The arrogance you developed because of your boon from Brahmā will soon be crushed. I have come here to punish you for your transgressions! Show me the strength you used when you carried Sītā off, after you had lured me away with your magic tricks. I shall destroy the earth with my sharp arrows unless you return Sītā and beg for mercy!

  ‘“Righteous Vibhīṣaṇa, the best of all rākṣasas, has joined me. He shall inherit the glories of Lankā completely unencumbered. Summon your courage and all your resources and come and fight me, rākṣasa! My arrows will purify you and bring you the ultimate peace on the battlefield! You cannot escape, now that I have seen you! Even if you take the form of a bird and fly through the three worlds as swift as thought! I speak for your own good. Organize your last rites, take a good look around Lankā for the last time. Your life is now in my hands!”’

  Angada rose into the air and reached Rāvaṇa’s palace in an instant. He saw Rāvaṇa seated amidst his advisors and blazing like fire, golden Angada delivered Rāma’s message.

  Rāvaṇa was incensed with Rāma’s strong words. His eyes blazed and he screamed at his ministers, ‘Catch that idiot and kill him!’ At once, four shining rākṣasas jumped up and grabbed Angada. Angada allowed himself to be caught so that he could display the strength he would use against the rākṣasa army. The rākṣasas clung to his arms like birds and Angada carried them away as he leapt to the top of the palace that was as high as a mountain. As Rāvaṇa watched, the rākṣasas were tossed to the ground by the speed of Angada’s movements. Angada shattered the top of the palace with a single kick and it collapsed right in front of Rāvaṇa. Angada roared out his name and rose into the sky. Rāvaṇa was enraged by the destruction, but he also heaved a great sigh, knowing that his end was near.

  Meanwhile, millions of monkeys had covered the area between the city and the ocean. The rākṣasas stared at them in amazement, some agitated, others rejoicing at the prospect of a fight. They saw that the ramparts were swarming with monkeys and that they had filled the spaces between the ramparts as well as the moats. The rākṣasas raised a terrible din as they set about arming themselves and they sounded like the howling winds at the end of time.

  The rākṣasas went and told Rāvaṇa that the city was under siege by Rāma and the monkeys and Rāvaṇa immediately doubled the guard around his palace. He watched as the monkeys swarmed over Lankā for Rāma’s sake. The monkeys with their coppery red faces and gleaming golden bodies were ready to die for Rāma and they began to attack with rocks and trees and with their clenched fists. They broke buildings and crushed them into the ground. They clogged the clear water moats with rocks and grass and logs of wood. Hundreds of thousands of millions of monkeys climbed into Lankā, clambering over the golden gates and over the towers that were as tall as Mount Kailāsa. They roared and jumped up and down and took any form that pleased them as they swarmed over the ramparts.

  Rāvaṇa was beside himself with rage and called for his entire army to march forth at once. With great delight, the rākṣasa hordes surged out of the city like the ocean during a storm.

  There began a terrible battle between the monkeys and the rākṣasas that recalled the battle between the gods and the asuras in the old days. The rākṣasas ploughed through the monkeys with their spears and clubs and maces and battle axes, boasting about their valour as they did so. But the monkeys fought back with their teeth and nails and with rocks and trees. Rākṣasas stationed on the ramparts attacked the invading monkeys with their weapons and the monkeys retaliated by hurling them off the walls. The indescribable battle between the monkeys and the rākṣasas went on and on and soon the ground under their feet was drenched with blood and smeared with bits of flesh.

  As they fought on, the sun set and the night, which was to take a number of lives, came on. But the fighting continued, for the monkeys and the rākṣasas were sworn to enmity and both sides were equally determined to win. In that terrible darkness, they attacked their own kind, the rākṣasas shouting, ‘You are a monkey!’ and the monkeys shouting, ‘You are a rākṣasa!’

  ‘Kill him!’ ‘Cut him up!’ ‘Why are you running away!’ were the shouts heard through the darkness above the din. As they went on a rampage and devoured the monkeys, the black rākṣasas with their golden armour gleamed like mountains covered with medicinal herbs that emit light. In their rage, they fell upon horses with golden trappings whose plumes were like flames and tore them apart with their sharp teeth. Elephants decorated with plumes and banners were dragged here and there and crushed along with their riders. The dust that rose from the hooves of the horses and from the chariot wheels filled the warriors’ eyes and ears and a river of blood flowed as if in spate.

  The blaring of conches and beating of drums rose into the air and it mingled with the groans of dying rākṣasas and the roars of wounded monkey
s. Weapons lay in heaps like piles of flower offerings and the battlefield could not be reached or even be recognized because of the blood and gore everywhere. The night which had come to claim the lives of the monkeys and rākṣasas seemed determined to destroy everything, like the night at the end of time.

  In the darkness, the rākṣasas attacked Rāma together, deluging him with their arrows. But in a split second, Rāma had killed six of them with six sharp arrows that consumed them like tongues of flame. He lit up the directions with his shining, golden arrows, and other rākṣasas who tried to attack Rāma were burned like moths at a flame. Thousands of arrows powered by golden feathers flew in all directions and the battlefield was like an autumn night illuminated by fireflies.

  That awful night was made even more so by the roaring of the rākṣasas and the monkeys that echoed and reverberated through the caves of Mount Trikūṭa. Angada was determined to kill the enemy and he destroyed Indrajit’s horses and chariot. Indrajit quickly got rid of his chariot and vanished. Rāvaṇa’s terrifying son was invincible in battle because of a boon he had received from Brahmā. He made himself invisible and loosed a shower of arrows. In his fury, he wounded Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa all over their bodies with arrows that turned into snakes.

  Rāma wanted to know where the rākṣasa prince had disappeared to and appointed ten monkeys to find him. The monkey warriors armed themselves with trees and leapt into the sky in search of Indrajit. But Indrajit was a skilled warrior and harried those swift monkeys with even swifter arrows. The monkeys were wounded by Indrajit’s arrows despite their quick movements, but still, they could not see him in the dark, as the sun cannot be seen behind clouds.

  Indrajit then attacked Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa and his arrows struck them in their vitals. In fact, there was not a single part of their bodies that was spared the onslaught of Indrajit’s arrows. Indrajit, who was as black as collyrium, twanged his bow and struck them again and again. His arrows turned into snakes and bound the brothers so that they could not move. In a moment, they had fallen onto the battlefield, unable, even, to open their eyes. The arrows bit into their flesh as they lay there, like Indra’s flagstaff lies when the ropes that hold it have been severed.