Their bodies were immobile and covered with arrows right down to their fingertips. Blood flowed from them like rivers from Mount Prasravaṇa. Indrajit, who had even defeated Indra, turned his arrows onto Rāma first and the great hero fell to the ground. He was still holding his mighty bow with the three bends, decorated with gold bands, but it was split right at the point where he held it. When Lakṣmaṇa saw Rāma fallen, he lost the will to live. The monkeys gathered around the two heroic warriors who lay on the ground and were plunged into grief.
Indrajit rested after accomplishing his task, as Indra rests after he has sent the rains. Vibhīṣaṇa and Sugrīva came with all the other monkeys to where the brothers lay. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were unconscious, barely breathing, as they lay on their bed of arrows in agony with blood pouring from their bodies. The monkeys surrounded them, their eyes dim with tears. They looked up into the sky and in all directions but they could not see the invisible Indrajit anywhere. But he continued to torment the monkeys with his arrows, laughing as he said, ‘Look at those brothers, bound by my snake arrows!’
The rākṣasas were thrilled and awed by what Indrajit had done and they praised him profusely. ‘Rāma is dead!’ they shouted gleefully and the sound of their cheers swelled as they honoured Rāvaṇa’s son. Indrajit saw Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa lying there, unable to move, and presumed they were dead. He went back into the city in high spirits.
Sugrīva was terribly frightened when he saw Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa covered with arrows from head to foot. ‘Stem the flow of your tears!’ said Vibhīṣaṇa to the dejected Sugrīva. ‘This is no time for sorrow. These things happen in battle, for no one is assured of victory. We may have a little good fortune left and with that, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa may recover from their swoon. Pull yourself together. That will cheer me up as well. The righteous are never afraid of death!’
Vibhīṣaṇa gently wiped Sugrīva’s shining eyes with his hand. ‘This is not the time to display our weakness, king of the monkeys! If we succumb to our affection for Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa now, we shall surely die! Let us look after Rāma until he regains consciousness. He will banish our fears when he is better. This injury is nothing to Rāma. He is not going to die! Look, death’s pallor has not yet touched his bright face.
‘Compose yourself and go and reassure your troops. I will do the same thing. The troops are very upset. They gaze at each other, their eyes filled with fear, and they whisper among themselves.’ After comforting Sugrīva, Vibhīṣaṇa went to rally the troops who were on the verge of flight.
Meanwhile, Indrajit had returned to Lankā with his army and went to see his father. He bowed before him and with joined palms, he announced that Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were dead. Delighted, Rāvaṇa leapt from his seat and embraced his son in front of all the rākṣasas. He kissed him on the forehead and questioned him eagerly. In great detail, Indrajit told his father how he killed the brothers.
Meanwhile, the monkeys kept an alert watch over Rāma, looking in all directions and imagining even a moving blade of grass to be a rākṣasa.
Rāvaṇa had dismissed his son and now, with great delight, he sent for the rākṣasīs that guarded Sītā. They came at once, led by Trijaṭā. ‘Tell Sītā that Indrajit has killed Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa! Take her to the battlefield in Puṣpaka so that she can see that the husband and the brother-in-law she relied upon to protect her are dead! Now that she has no hope of being rescued, she will adorn herself with jewels and come to me!’
The rākṣasīs did as they were told and put Sītā in the magical chariot. Rāvaṇa had the city decorated with flags and banners and announced everywhere that Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were dead. Sītā went to the battlefield with Trijaṭā and saw that the entire monkey army had been struck down. She saw rākṣasas celebrating and the monkeys gathered around Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, distraught with grief. She saw Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa lying unconscious upon a bed of arrows, tortured by their wounds. Their armour had been torn open, their bows had fallen from their hands and every inch of their bodies were covered with arrows. Sītā’s grief knew no bounds as she gazed at the brothers who rivalled the gods. Her eyes clouded with tears and she began to wail.
As she lamented her fate, Trijaṭā said to her, ‘Don’t cry. I am sure your husband is still alive! Listen and I will tell you why I think Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa are not dead.
‘An army would not display anger and suppressed excitement if its leaders were dead. If Rāma were truly dead, this magical vehicle would not carry you. This army is calm and collected, Sītā. They watch over the brothers as if they were still alive. All these signs point to a happy conclusion of affairs. I say all this because I am fond of you!
‘Look at their vital signs Sītā. They may be unconscious but death’s pallor has not come to their bright faces. Curb your morbid thoughts and your grief! They cannot possibly be dead!’
Sītā joined her palms and whispered, ‘May all this be true!’ Trijaṭā turned Puṣpaka around and took Sītā back to Lankā. Sītā entered the beautiful aśoka grove but her thoughts stayed with Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa and she was still depressed.
Even as the monkey leaders stood around Daśaratha’s sons miserably, Rāma recovered consciousness though he was still bound by Indrajit’s snake arrows. When he saw his brother lying there, pale, bloodied and obviously suffering, he cried out in despair. ‘What use to me is Sītā or my life when I see my brother lifeless like this on the battlefield? If I looked hard enough, I would find another woman like Sītā in this world. But I would never find anyone like my brother Lakṣmaṇa, my companion and advisor! If Lakṣmaṇa dies, I will kill myself in front of all the monkeys!
‘How can I return to Ayodhyā without him when he followed me into the forest? How will I endure Sumitrā’s reproaches? I cannot go on living, I shall kill myself! Damn me and my ignoble acts that have led to Lakṣmaṇa lying like this, covered with arrows, as if he were dead!
‘Ah Lakṣmaṇa! You always comforted me and cheered me! Now I am filled with sorrow and you say not a word! I shall follow this brave hero to the world of the dead just as he followed me into the forest! The empty boast that I would make Vibhīṣaṇa the king of the rākṣasas will haunt me always! Sugrīva, you should return. Rāvaṇa will pursue you thinking that you have been weakened without me. Take your army and your followers across the bridge over the ocean. It is not possible for mortals to counter their destinies, Sugrīva! You have done all that a friend and ally can do without transgressing dharma. I give you leave to depart, monkey! Go your own way!’
The monkeys heard Rāma’s lament and tears poured from their eyes.
Vibhīṣaṇa came over and when he saw the two lifeless bodies, he stroked their faces and wept. ‘These heroes have been laid low by the rākṣasas who fight unfairly! My wicked nephew tricked and deceived them! He has brought disgrace upon his father by fighting in this unethical way!
‘They lie here, covered with arrows and bathed in blood, sleeping the endless sleep. I had centred my hopes for kingship on them! I am as good as dead without a kingdom and my enemy Rāvaṇa has done what he said he would do. His wishes have been fulfilled!’
Sugrīva embraced Vibhīṣaṇa and consoled him, saying, ‘I feel sure you will become the king of Lankā! Neither Rāvaṇa nor his son shall have their wishes come true. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa are not dead! As soon as they recover consciousness, they will kill Rāvaṇa and all his followers!’
Sugrīva turned to his father-in-law, Suṣeṇa, who stood by his side and said, ‘When Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa have regained consciousness, take them back to Kiṣkindha along with the monkey army. I will kill Rāvaṇa and his family and rescue Sītā!’
‘During the terrible war between the gods and the asuras, the asuras defeated the gods by disappearing again and again,’ said Suṣeṇa. ‘Bṛhaspati revived the gods who were close to death and those that were unconscious with m
edicinal herbs and mantras. Let the monkeys go to the ocean of milk and bring those herbs here quickly!
‘The herbs we need grow on the mountains Candra and Droṇa which lie in the ocean where the nectar was churned. Let Hanumān, the son of the wind, go and fetch those herbs!’
At that very moment, a huge gale arose accompanied by clouds and lightning. The waters rose, the mountains trembled and islands with their great trees tumbled into the ocean. A little later, the monkeys saw Garuḍa, the king of the birds, bright as a fire, approaching. The minute they saw him, the arrows that had become snakes and bound Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa fled.
Garuḍa honoured the princes and touched their moon-like faces with his hands. The moment he did that, their wounds were healed and the bodies shone golden. Their energy, vigour, intelligence and memory as well as their good looks and all their virtues were doubled.
Garuḍa raised the princes who were Indra’s equals and embraced them. ‘Because of you, we have been able to overcome this terrible thing Rāvaṇa’s son did to us,’ said Rāma. ‘You have given us back our strength! Your presence makes me as happy as if I were with my father. Who are you, mighty one, with your good looks, your celestial garlands and ornaments and clothes and sweet perfumes?’
Garuḍa’s eyes were wide with joy as he replied, ‘I am your dear friend, Rāma, the breath outside your body! I am Garuḍa and I have come here to help you both. No one, not the gods nor the gandharvas nor any of the celestial beings could have released you from these terrible bonds wicked Indrajit created with his magical powers.
‘Rāma, you and your brother are fortunate indeed that I heard what had happened and came here immediately because of my affection for you! Now that you have been freed from those terrible bonds, you must be vigilant. It is in the nature of rākṣasas to fight by duplicitous means, but heroes fight honourably. That is their greatest strength. Never trust a rākṣasa on the battlefield!’ said Garuḍa as he embraced them and prepared to leave.
When the monkeys saw that Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa had been revived, they shouted and yelled and whipped their tails. They beat their drums and blew their conches and laughed and danced and went back to their monkey pranks. They slapped each other’s backs and pulled up thousands of trees, ready to do battle again. They surged towards the gates of Lankā, lusting for a fight, and the din they raised made the rākṣasas anxious.
Chapter Sixty
Rāvaṇa heard the sound of the monkeys that swelled like thunder and remarked to his ministers, ‘This thunderous din sounds as if the monkeys are rejoicing. They are obviously very pleased about something, for the noise they are making is enough to agitate the ocean! But Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa are supposed to be bound by Indrajit’s snake arrows. This uproar produces grave doubts in my mind!’
He turned to his personal guards who stood around him. ‘Find out what makes the monkeys rejoice at a time when they should be in despair!’
The guards were confused and climbed to the tops of the ramparts. They saw Sugrīva in full control of the army. Then, they saw Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa standing there, freed of their bonds, and they were filled with despair. Fear clutched at their hearts as they climbed down and went back to Rāvaṇa with crestfallen faces. They reported the bad news to him in great detail.
‘Indrajit felled the brothers with his arrows, binding them so that they could move neither hand nor foot. They have snapped their bonds with the strength of elephants and can now be seen on the battlefield!’
A wave of sadness washed over Rāvaṇa, and he grew somewhat worried. He kept his eyes on the ground as he said, ‘Indrajit’s arrows were like the sun in splendour and they were a gift from the gods. They were infallible, like poisonous snakes. If my enemies were able to free themselves from these, it does not bode well for the rest of my forces.’ Hissing like an angry snake, Rāvaṇa called upon Dhūmrākṣa. ‘Go out with a huge force of fierce rākṣasas and kill Rāma and the monkeys!’
Dhūmrākṣa lost no time in carrying out Rāvaṇa’s commands and quickly organized a band of heroic rākṣasas. The frightful rākṣasas with bells on their girdles shouted with glee as they came from all directions, armed with every kind of weapon. Laughing, Dhūmrākṣa rode out of the western gate, surrounded by the rākṣasas. A host of bad omens appeared as he went out and Dhūmrākṣa was scared. Then he saw that enormous monkey army that was as large as the ocean, commanded by Rāma.
The monkeys were delighted to see formidable Dhūmrākṣa marching forth and, in their eagerness to fight, they sent up a huge shout. A great battle ensued between the monkeys and the rākṣasas as they attacked each other with trees and stones and spears and iron clubs. The rākṣasas attacked the monkeys with their vicious weapons, tore their limbs apart with arrows and pierced their bodies with spears. The monkeys retaliated with huge trees and rocks, tearing at the rākṣasas with their nails and teeth, smashing them with their fists and crushing them underfoot as they yelled and shouted. The ground was littered with fallen horses, chariots, elephants and dead rākṣasas as the monkeys continued to fight enthusiastically, even though they were drenched in blood from their wounds. Some had been disembowelled, others had had their chests ripped open and some lay dead on the ground.
Hanumān saw that the monkey army was having trouble and he surged towards Dhūmrākṣa with a massive rock. Hanumān was his father’s equal in strength and speed, and he hurled the rock with all his might towards the rākṣasa. Dhūmrākṣa jumped out of his chariot as it was smashed into little pieces along with its horses. Hanumān then turned his attention to the rākṣasa army and wreaked havoc among them, assaulting them with trees and rocks. The rākṣasas fell to the ground, their heads broken, their bodies bathed in blood, tormented by their wounds.
Hanumān renewed his attack on Dhūmrākṣa, uprooting an entire mountain crest as he ran towards him. Dhūmrākṣa struck Hanumān with his spiked mace but the monkey did not even feel the blow. Hanumān threw the mountain peak at Dhūmrākṣa and it hit him on the head. Dhūmrākṣa collapsed on the ground, his body limp. When the rākṣasas who were still left alive saw that their commander had been slain, they ran back to Lankā in terror. Hanumān was tired, but glad that he had routed the enemy and received the praises of the monkeys with joy.
Rāvaṇa was enraged when he heard about the death of Dhūmrākṣa. He called the famed general Akampana and ordered him to go out and meet the monkey forces. A huge number of truly frightening rākṣasas came to join him as Akampana, black as a cloud and with a voice like thunder, rode out in his chariot of burnished gold.
There was another great battle between the rākṣasas and the monkeys who were ready to sacrifice their lives. The air was rent with battle cries and great shouts as they fought with speed and power. The warriors could not see each other or anything else because of the dust, white as washed silk, that rose and covered the battlefield. Horses, chariots, flags, banners, weapons and armour were all obscured by the dust and the fighters ran here and there, practically invisible. The rākṣasas and the monkeys attacked each other, killing friend and foe alike, and the earth was drenched in blood.
Akampana inspired the rākṣasas to great deeds, but the monkeys fought with equal valour and killed huge numbers of the enemy.
Akampana worked himself up into a mighty rage and brandished his bow. He ordered his charioteer to drive straight into the heart of the battle and he slaughtered monkeys all around him with his sharp arrows. The monkeys could not take a stand against him and fell back.
Hanumān saw the rout and arrived there to face Akampana. The monkeys rallied around him with great shouts of joy and stood firm against the enemy. Akampana greeted Hanumān with a rain of arrows but the mighty monkey stood there, steady as a rock, unmindful of the arrows that struck him, like a mountain in a storm. He concentrated his mind on how he was going to kill Akampana. He charged towards the rākṣasa with all his migh
t and realizing that he was unarmed, he grabbed a mountain peak along the way, blazing like fire. But Akampana shattered the peak from a distance with his sharp arrows. Hanumān was enraged and uprooted a tree as tall as a mountain. He whirled it around over his head gleefully and renewed his charge, tearing up the earth with his feet. He killed and maimed rākṣasas as well as horses and elephants here and there and finally, the terrified rākṣasas fled.
Akampana roared and rushed towards Hanumān, striking him with fourteen arrows. The great monkey pulled up another tree and smashed it down on Akampana’s head. The rākṣasa fell down in a heap and died. The other rākṣasas fled in terror, their hair dishevelled, sweat pouring from their bodies. The monkeys gathered around Hanumān and praised him for his prowess in battle.
Rāvaṇa was disheartened to hear about the death of Akampana. He brooded for a while and then held discussions with his ministers. He walked around the city with its flags and banners and inspected the fortifications and defences and saw that it was well-guarded at every post. He called for Prahasta, the veteran warrior, and told him to mount an attack against the monkeys.
Prahasta summoned his forces and within an hour, Lankā was swarming with mighty warriors brandishing their weapons. They poured oblations into the fire and honoured the brahmins as the air filled with the fragrance of ghee. Ready for battle, they joyfully took the wreaths and garlands over which mantras for their invincibility had been uttered and saluted their king before they set forth.
Valmiki's Ramayana Page 52