Valmiki's Ramayana

by Vālmīki,Sattar, Arshia

  Somewhat reassured, the monkeys regrouped and armed themselves with trees and rocks. They turned around and attacked Kumbhakarṇa in fury but he remained unmoved despite their repeated assaults. The rocks shattered and the trees snapped against his huge body. Meanwhile, he ploughed through the apes, crushing them and tossing them about. Some tumbled into the sea, others fled into the sky, some ran down the bridge they had built.

  Angada exhorted them to return. ‘Stand and fight!’ he screamed. ‘Women laugh at warriors who fling down their weapons and run away from the battlefield. Surely that is worse than death! Remember your ancestry and stop behaving like common creatures! Our life on earth is short in any case. If we die in battle, we shall go to Brahmā’s realm. We shall earn fame and renown if we kill the enemy! Like a moth rushing into a fire, Kumbhakarṇa will not live once Rāma has set eyes on him. If we run from Kumbhakarṇa, we shall be branded cowards and will never achieve fame!’

  Encouraged by Angada’s words, the monkeys rallied and with renewed vigour they prepared to meet Kumbhakarṇa again. They attacked him with trees and rocks but Kumbhakarṇa flung them about, seven and eight hundred at a time, and they fell to the earth, their limbs smashed. He gathered sixteen and eighteen monkeys into his arms and threw them into his mouth, devouring them the way Garuḍa would snakes. Unable to have any effect on the giant, the monkey leaders set about destroying his forces by crushing them with mountain peaks.

  Hanumān rained rocks and stones upon Kumbhakarṇa from the sky but Kumbhakarṇa shattered them all with his spear. Hanumān placed himself in Kumbhakarṇa’s path and hurled a mountain peak at him with all his energy. Kumbhakarṇa whirled his shining spear above his head and struck Hanumān with it in the middle of his chest. Dazed and bewildered, Hanumān vomited blood and let out a terrible scream while the rākṣasas rejoiced to see him injured.

  Thousands of monkeys rushed upon Kumbhakarṇa. They climbed up his body as they would climb a hill, they bit him and scratched him and pounded him with their fists and feet. But Kumbhakarṇa ignored their blows and shovelled them into his mouth. He consumed the monkeys the way fire consumes a forest, making the earth slippery with blood and gore.

  Sugrīva, the heroic king of the monkeys, rose and rushed towards Kumbhakarṇa, brandishing a mountain peak. He threw an immense rock at Kumbhakarṇa with all his energy so that it struck him with the force of a thunderbolt. But the rock shattered into pieces against the giant’s massive chest. Enraged, Kumbhakarṇa hurled his spear at Sugrīva but Hanumān rose up and caught the iron spear adorned with gold, breaking it in two across his knee. Kumbhakarṇa seized a peak and brought it down on Sugrīva’s head, knocking him out cold.

  Kumbhakarṇa lifted Sugrīva in his arms and carried him away into the air, looking like Mount Meru with a cloud. The rākṣasas on the battlefield rejoiced but the army of monkeys scattered in all directions. Hanumān felt sure that he could rescue Sugrīva but then decided against it. Since Sugrīva was capable of freeing himself, it would not be the right thing to do. So he set about rallying the monkey army that was in retreat.

  Kumbhakarṇa entered the city of Lankā with the twitching Sugrīva in his arms. He was greeted with a rain of flowers from the people who crowded the towers and mansions. Refreshed by the cool water and the breeze that blew along the road, Sugrīva regained consciousness and found that he was in the arms of his enemy who was much stronger than himself. Quickly, he tore off Kumbhakarṇa’s ears with his nails, bit off his nose, digging into his sides with his feet. Bleeding profusely, Kumbhakarṇa howled in pain and hurled Sugrīva onto the ground. Rākṣasas attacked Sugrīva in a group but he sprang into the air and returned to Rāma.

  Without his nose and ears, Kumbhakarṇa looked like a mountain drenched in cascades of blood. Relying on his phenomenal strength, he decided to go back into battle. He realized that he had lost his weapon and so he armed himself with a mighty iron club. Hungry and hankering for flesh and blood, he devoured the monkeys like the doomsday fire. He gobbled up monkeys and rākṣasas indiscriminately, shoving them into his mouth twenty and thirty at a time.

  Rāma invoked Śiva’s weapon and pierced Kumbhakarṇa’s heart with many sharp arrows. Sparks and smoke emerged from Kumbhakarṇa’s cavernous mouth and his huge mace fell to the ground as the peacock-feathered-arrows lodged in his chest. Kumbhakarṇa found that he was unarmed and lashed out with his feet and fists. Weak and disoriented from loss of blood, he ran around in circles, attacking monkeys and rākṣasas.

  Rāma picked up his great bow and bore down upon Kumbhakarṇa, followed by Lakṣmaṇa. The sight of Rāma with his magnificent bow and quiver full of deadly arrows reassured the monkey army. Rāma saw Kumbhakarṇa, his gleaming crown upon his head, covered in blood, devouring everything in sight. His eyes bloodshot, he licked the blood that poured from his face and trampled upon the monkey army like death at the end of time.

  Rāma twanged his bow and the sound drove Kumbhakarṇa into a frenzy. He charged towards Rāma, who shouted, ‘Come! I am ready for you, armed with my bow! Know that this is Rāma who speaks to you. You shall be dead within the hour!’ Kumbhakarṇa laughed hideously and the monkeys’ hearts leapt into their mouths. ‘This is not Virādha or Khara or Kabandha, Vālī or Mārīca! I am Kumbhakarṇa! Look at my massive iron club with which I have destroyed gods and dānavas in the past! Do not look at me and think that I have neither nose nor ears. I feel no pain from those injuries. Show me your strength, tiger among men, and then I shall eat you up!’

  Rāma loosed his splendid arrows against Kumbhakarṇa to no effect. The same arrows that had pierced the sāla trees and killed Vālī made not the slightest impression upon Kumbhakarṇa. Rāma invoked Vāyu’s weapon and severed Kumbhakarṇa’s right arm which was wielding the enormous club. The club fell to the ground, killing hundreds of monkeys. The ones that survived retired to a safe distance, trembling, and watched the terrible battle from there. Then Rāma invoked Indra’s weapon and cut off Kumbhakarṇa’s other arm which brandished a tree. That arm crushed trees and mountains and monkeys and rākṣasas as it fell. But still, Kumbhakarṇa lumbered towards Rāma, roaring as he came. Rāma cut off his legs with two crescent-headed arrows. Kumbhakarṇa opened his mouth wide and came forward. Rāma filled his terrifying maw with sharp, golden arrows. And then, Rāma picked his most formidable arrow, powered by Indra himself. It blazed like the sun and was as invincible as death. He loosed it against the rākṣasa and it sped through the air with the force of Indra’s thunderbolt, lighting up the ten directions. It severed Kumbhakarṇa’s mountainous head with its bared teeth and dangling golden earrings. The head smashed towers and ramparts as it fell and his massive body collapsed into the ocean, crushing fish and mighty serpents as it buried itself in the seabed.

  When Kumbhakarṇa, the enemy of the gods and the brahmins, was killed, the earth shook and all the heavenly beings rejoiced. The monkeys broke into shouts of joy and honoured Rāma for his incredible feat. The surviving rākṣasas ran to tell Rāvaṇa that Kumbhakarṇa had been slain. The king of the rākṣasas was overwhelmed by grief and fell into a swoon. After a while, he regained consciousness and began to lament the loss of his brother.

  ‘Ah, heroic and mighty Kumbhakarṇa! Conqueror of the enemy! Why have you left me and gone? I am as good as dead now that you, my right arm, upon whom I depended and did not fear the gods or the asuras, have fallen. How could a hero like this, who has smashed the pride of the gods and the dānavas, who is like the doomsday fire, how could he have been killed in battle by Rāma?

  ‘I am sure the rejoicing monkeys will seize this opportunity and swarm over the walls of Lankā. What use is the kingdom to me now? Or Sītā? I have no interest in life now that Kumbhakarṇa is dead! I would rather die than live this worthless life if I do not kill Rāma, my brother’s killer, in battle! I shall follow my brother to the abode of death today! I cannot live for a moment without him! I am rea
ping the fruits of insulting noble Vibhīṣaṇa and ignoring his words!’ Rāvaṇa mourned the loss of his brother and, overcome with grief, he swooned again.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Rāvaṇa’s sons and nephews saw him grieving and they spoke words of encouragement, begging to be allowed to join the battle. All his sons were equal to Indra in valour. They could fly in the air, they were masters of the magical arts, they were invincible in battle and could humble the gods. Skilled in the use of all kinds of weapons, they were famous for their exploits. They were experienced warriors and had all won mighty boons for themselves.

  Rāvaṇa called blessings upon his sons and embraced them and decorated them with jewels and ornaments before he sent them out. The rākṣasa princes rubbed themselves with medicinal herbs and sweet perfumes before they set out, impelled by fate. Bright like the sun, they wore glittering crowns and with their gleaming weapons, they shone like planets in the sky. Determined to vanquish the enemy, they thundered and roared and snatched arrows from their quivers. The earth trembled under their feet and the sky was pierced by their battle cries.

  The monkey army saw them coming and roared with delight, eager to show off their strength and skills. And the rākṣasas, not to be outdone, yelled back as they prepared to attack. The monkeys greeted them with a hail of stones and rocks and trees. They crushed and smashed and pulverized the rākṣasas through their armour, even if they were riding in chariots or on horses or elephants. The rākṣasas fought back with arrows and other deadly weapons, tearing the monkeys’ bodies apart. They even snatched rocks and trees from the monkeys and pounded them with their own weapons.

  Riding on a horse that was as swift as the wind, Rāvaṇa’s son Narāntaka cut through the monkey army with his spear like an enormous fish slicing through the waters. He killed seven hundred monkeys with a single blow leaving bloody corpses in his wake. He was everywhere, trampling the monkeys and attacking them before they could run to safety.

  Sugrīva told Angada to confront Narāntaka and Vālī’s splendid son emerged from the mass of monkeys like the sun emerging from the clouds. He had no weapons apart from his nails and teeth but he stood in front of Narāntaka and taunted him. Narāntaka whirled his spear above his head and attacked Angada, but the deadly spear shattered against the monkey’s chest. Angada pounded Narāntaka’s horse with his open palm and it collapsed in a heap, its eyes popping out of its head. Narāntaka attacked Angada with his fists and Angada retaliated by punching Narāntaka in the chest. It was a deadly blow, swift as a thunderbolt and with the weight of a mountain, and the rākṣasa’s chest broke open, blood spurting from it like tongues of flame.

  Rāvaṇa’s other sons cried out when Narāntaka was killed and Devāntaka, Triśiras and Mahodara attacked Angada together. Angada rained trees and mountain peaks and rocks upon them but the rākṣasas cut them to bits with their sharp arrows. Though they all pounded him with their weapons, Angada showed no signs of fatigue or pain. He slapped Mahodara’s great elephant and it fell to the ground. Then he grabbed its tusk and struck Devāntaka with it. Devāntaka dealt Angada a mighty blow with his club while Triśiras pierced the monkey’s head with his arrows.

  Hanumān and Nīla came to Angada’s rescue and the rākṣasas were delighted with the prospect of new enemies to fight. Devāntaka rushed at Hanumān with his iron club raised but Hanumān killed him with a single blow to the head with his fist. Devāntaka fell to the ground, his head smashed to pulp, his teeth and eyes knocked out, his tongue lolling.

  Triśiras and Mahodara attacked Nīla with a shower of arrows and Nīla succumbed. But he recovered very quickly and, uprooting an entire hill, he brought it down on Mahodara’s head, killing him in an instant. Triśiras turned his attention to Hanumān, sending his magnificent spear through the air towards the monkey. Hanumān caught it as it flew like a firebrand and roaring fiercely, he snapped it in two. Triśiras then came at Hanumān with his sword but Hanumān felled him with a blow to the chest, snatching the sword that fell from his nerveless hand. Enraged, he severed the rākṣasa’s three heads with their crowns and golden earrings. The blazing heads fell to the ground like planets dislodged from their orbits.

  The monkeys shouted for joy and the earth trembled as the rākṣasas fled in all directions, leaving their weapons behind as they ran in terror of their lives.

  Mountainous Atikāya, who was strong and powerful, was enraged when he saw his brothers being killed. He had been given a boon by Brahmā and had humbled the gods and the dānavas in battle. He blazed like a thousand suns in his chariot and his crown and earrings shone with splendour. He roared like a lion, declaring his name and his exploits and twanged his bow. The monkeys were terrified at the sight of his immense body and fled in all directions, seeking refuge with Rāma.

  Atikāya plunged forward into the monkey army with his chariot, twanging his bow and roaring. The monkey leaders attacked him with trees and rocks but he splintered them with a shower of arrows. The monkeys could not retaliate and withdrew. ‘I am seated in a chariot and armed with a bow and arrows!’ he shouted arrogantly as he approached Rāma. ‘I will not fight with just anyone! Let whoever dares come and confront me!’

  Lakṣmaṇa drew his bow in anger and the sound filled the earth, the mountains, the sky and the ocean. Atikāya shot an arrow at Lakṣmaṇa and it sailed through the air, hissing like a serpent. Lakṣmaṇa shredded it to bits with his crescent-headed arrows and then chose another gleaming, razor-sharp arrow from his quiver. It struck Atikāya on the forehead and the rākṣasa reeled from the impact. Atikāya produced a rain of arrows but Lakṣmaṇa cut them to bits with his own weapons. Lakṣmaṇa loosed an arrow powered by the fire god and Atikāya retaliated with one powered by the sun god. Their tips blazing, the arrows met in the air like hissing serpents. They burnt each other out and were reduced to ashes.

  The two mighty warriors assailed each other with all the celestial weapons at their command but they were perfectly matched and neither could get the better of the other. Finally, the wind god came to Lakṣmaṇa and whispered, ‘Atikāya was granted a boon by Brahmā and he is protected by celestial armour. Use Brahmā’s weapon, there is no other way to kill him!’

  Lakṣmaṇa picked an arrow that would not miss its mark and called upon Brahmā to direct it. The universe shuddered in fear as Lakṣmaṇa fitted it into his bow and loosed it against Atikāya. Atikāya saw it blazing through the air with its golden shaft and though he tried to counter it with his own arrows and all his other weapons, it descended on him with the speed of Garuḍa. It severed his head which crashed to the ground like a Himalayan peak.

  Those rākṣasas that still lived, weary and wretched from being routed by the enemy, wailed aloud when Atikāya fell. They fled back to Lankā, having lost all their leaders. But the monkeys rejoiced and praised Lakṣmaṇa, who had triumphed over a formidable enemy.

  Rāvaṇa was beside himself with grief over the death of his sons and he mourned and lamented. His eyes filled with tears and he swooned in sorrow. And as he sat there grieving, his son Indrajit, the best of all the chariot warriors, came to him and said, ‘Father, do not succumb to confusion and despair. I, Indrajit, am still alive. I am the enemy of Indra and no one can escape my arrows! Today you will see Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa lifeless on the battlefield, their broken bodies covered with my arrows!’

  He went out of the city in his splendid chariot, surrounded by fully armed warriors who were eager to fight. The sound of drums and conches filled the air and with the white canopy held over his head, Indrajit seemed like the moon rising into the sky. When Indrajit reached the battlefield, he placed warriors all around his chariot and propitiated the fire with oblations and mantras. He offered flowers and perfumes and the head of a black goat as he surrounded the fire with his weapons. The fire god himself appeared, dressed in red and enveloped by flames, to receive the offerings. Indrajit invoked Brahmā’s powers an
d muttered mantras over his chariot, and over his bow and other weapons. He made himself invisible in the sky with all the powers he had gathered through the ritual.

  The rākṣasa army marched forward and slaughtered the monkeys with their arrows. Indrajit killed seven and eight monkeys at a time with a single arrow and they ran helter skelter, their bodies streaming with blood, fear lodged in their hearts. Determined to make a stand for Rāma’s sake, they turned and showered Indrajit with trees and stones and boulders but the mighty warrior warded them off and deluged the monkeys with arrows.

  Indrajit inflicted terrible wounds on the leading monkey warriors with his various weapons and they fell to the ground. Indrajit then attacked Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa with showers of arrows that were as bright as the rays of the sun. They did not affect Rāma, who turned to Lakṣmaṇa and said, ‘The mighty rākṣasa is using Brahmā’s power for his weapons. Now that he has felled the monkey leaders, he has turned his arrows upon us. He has a boon from Brahmā. How can we kill him when we cannot even see him? Let us pretend to be struck by the arrows and fall to the ground as if we are unconscious. He will definitely return to the city, thinking that he has won the first round of battle!’

  Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa fell to the ground and Indrajit shouted with joy at having created trouble for the monkey army as well as for Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa and returned to Rāvaṇa’s city.

  The monkeys were perplexed and troubled, but there was nothing Sugrīva, Nīla, Angada or Jāmbavān could do. Vibhīṣaṇa saw how disheartened the army was and reassured the monkey leaders. ‘Do not be afraid. This is not the time for grief. It is true the princes have fallen, but it is only because they respect Brahmā’s power that they have succumbed to Indrajit’s arrows. How can this be an occasion for grief?’