Valmiki's Ramayana

by Vālmīki,Sattar, Arshia

  The omens indicating Rāvaṇa’s destruction multiplied even as signs of good fortune for Rāma appeared. Rāma was skilled in the reading of these signs and he was filled with joy to see auspicious signs for his victory. He threw himself into battle with even greater vigour.

  A vicious chariot duel began between Rāma and Rāvaṇa which filled the worlds with fear. The monkeys and the rākṣasas stood absolutely still, holding on to their weapons, and marvelled at the awesome combat between man and rākṣasa. Even though they were armed, they were too engrossed in the encounter to do anything other than watch, the rākṣasas fixing their eyes on Rāvaṇa and the monkeys on Rāma.

  The two warriors read the omens and knew what the outcome would be, that Rāvaṇa would die and Rāma would live—but they fought on relentlessly, summoning up all their energy and courage. Rāvaṇa loosed his arrows at the flag on Rāma’s chariot. They never reached the flag, for the moment they touched the chariot, they fell to the ground. Rāma attacked Rāvaṇa’s flag fiercely, with sharp arrows that blazed with their own splendour and were as hard to endure as a snakebite. They pierced Rāvaṇa’s flag and entered the earth as the flag fell to the ground.

  Rāvaṇa was incensed when he saw his flag crushed and crumpled and he loosed a volley of arrows at Rāma’s shining horses. Though they were hit, the horses did not stumble and were not more affected than if they had been assaulted with lotus stalks. Rāvaṇa grew angrier and, using his magic powers, he made thousands of arrows and clubs and spears, maces, discuses, mountains, trees and rocks rain down upon his enemy. The shower of weapons created a terrible din as they flew past Rāma and fell upon the monkey army.

  The battle of the arrows went on and they locked together in the air so that is seemed as if a new, bright sky had been formed. Not a single arrow missed its mark as they struck each other and fell to the ground.

  Monkeys and rākṣasas and other beings continued to watch as the chariots pursued each other, each determined to destroy the other. They executed complex manouevres as each tried to gain the upper hand. Rāma and Rāvaṇa were equally skilled and swift as they advanced and retreated and circled each other. They even faced each other head-on, their yokes touching, their horses nose to nose, their flags fluttering against each other. Rāma shot four sharp arrows from his bow and pushed Rāvaṇa’s horses back. Rāvaṇa retaliated with a storm of arrows that struck Rāma. But Rāma felt no pain and did not lose heart.

  Then, Rāvaṇa struck Indra’s charioteer Mātali all over his body but Mātali did not falter. Rāma was more enraged by the attack on Mātali than he was at being hit himself and he loosed hundreds and thousands of arrows against Rāvaṇa. The seven seas erupted with the hail of weapons that followed, their turbulence making the submarine creatures suffer terribly. The earth with its forests and mountains trembled, the sun dimmed and the wind died down. The gods, gandharvas, siddhas, great ṛṣis, the kinnaras and the uragas grew worried. ‘May all be well with the cows and the brahmins and may the worlds last for ever. May Rāma be victorious!’ they muttered.

  Then Rāma, the augmenter of his family’s fame, fitted his sharpest arrow, deadly as a poisonous snake, into his bow and cut off Rāvaṇa’s head with its glittering earrings. The three worlds watched as the head fell to the ground. But immediately, another one exactly like it grew in its place. Rāma’s swift hands quickly severed that head as well but another grew to replace it. One hundred magnificent heads were cut off in this fashion but there seemed to be no end to Rāvaṇa’s life.

  Rama still had many arrows left but he wondered, ‘These arrows killed Mārīca, Khara, Dūṣaṇa, Virādha and Kabandha. They have never failed me in combat before. Why are they so ineffective against Rāvaṇa?’ He continued to shower Rāvaṇa with arrows and Rāvaṇa fought back from his chariot with all his weapons. The gods and celestial beings watched this encounter that went on and on. Not for day or night, nor even for an hour or a moment did Rāma and Rāvaṇa stop fighting.

  ‘Why do you counter Rāvaṇa’s attack as if you don’t know what to do?’ asked Mātali. ‘Use Brahmā’s weapon against him. His hour of death has arrived!’ he prompted.

  Rāma chose a gleaming arrow that hissed like a snake. The arrow was a gift from Brahmā and had been given to Rāma by the great sage Agastya. Long ago, Brahmā had created it for Indra, for the conquest of the three worlds. The wind god was in its feathers, the sun and fire in its head. Its shaft had the essence of the skies and it was as heavy as the mountains Meru and Mandara. It was decorated with gold and shone with splendour. Bright as the sun, it contained the combined energies of all beings. Dark as the smoke from the doomsday fire and as deadly as a serpent, the arrow could destroy all the elephants, horses and chariots of the enemy. It had pierced gates and towers and walls, even mountains. Covered with the blood of all kinds of creatures, the arrow was truly terrifying to behold. Hard as diamond, it ripped through entire armies with a hiss, terrifying all those that heard it. The arrow was death incarnate and provided food for vultures, jackals, ghouls and other carrion eaters on the battlefield with unfailing certainty. Decorated with Garuḍa’s multi-coloured feathers, the arrow brought joy to the monkeys and death to the rākṣasas.

  Mighty Rāma fitted that incomparable arrow, which was about to destroy the menace to the Ikṣvākus, into his magnificent bow. He muttered the prescribed mantras over the arrow, drew his bow to the fullest and aimed the arrow at Rāvaṇa’s vitals. The arrow, which could not be opposed any more than death, was loosed with as much force as Indra might loose his thunderbolt. It struck Rāvaṇa in the chest and pierced his heart. It took Rāvaṇa’s life as it plunged into the earth and then, still drenched in blood, it came quickly back into its quiver.

  Rāvaṇa’s bow and arrow slipped from his hands and the king of the rākṣasas, who had befuddled the world with his strength and speed, tumbled out of his chariot and fell to the ground. The rākṣasas saw him fall and scattered in all directions. And the monkeys, who fought with trees for Rāma’s sake, chased them, laughing with joy. The rākṣasas ran back to Lankā with tears streaming down their faces. The monkeys proclaimed Rāvaṇa’s death and Rāma’s victory with glee. The sky resounded with the beating of drums and a perfumed breeze wafted through, soothing everyone.

  Rare and beautiful flowers rained down on Rāma’s chariot and the gods shouted ‘Marvellous!’ ‘Wonderful!’ from the skies. The gods and celestial beings were delighted with Rāvaṇa’s death, for he had tormented the worlds for a long time. The sky and the four quarters cleared, the earth stood still, the sun shone bright and steady and the gods were at peace. Sugrīva, Vibhīṣaṇa, Lakṣmaṇa and other well-wishers gathered around Rāma and they praised and honoured him with joy in their hearts. Now that Rāma had kept his promise and killed the enemy, he shone on the battlefield, surrounded by his own people as Indra is surrounded by the gods.

  As the rākṣasī women wept for Rāvaṇa, Mandodarī, his senior wife and most beloved queen, gazed sadly at her dead husband, the mighty rākṣasa whose feats surpassed the imagination, who had been killed by Rāma.

  ‘Ah, my heroic husband! Even Indra could not face you when you were angry! The ṛṣis, cāraṇas and gandharvas fled from you in terror! How could you let a mere mortal kill you in battle? You were covered in glory and had conquered the three worlds with your prowess, how could this man who wanders in the forest kill you? You could take any form you liked, you went where you pleased, how could you have fallen to the mortal Rāma? You were fully armed and fighting at the head of an enormous army. I cannot believe that Rāma was able to do this!

  ‘When your brother was killed in Janasthāna along with the other rākṣasas, I knew this was no ordinary man! And when Hanumān entered Lankā, the city that is impregnable even to the gods, we were all very worried. You would not listen when I told you not to seek enmity with Rāma. Now you reap its consequences!

  ‘How
can you justify your obsession with Sītā when it has cost you your majesty, your family and your life? Misguided creature! You did wrong when you abducted Sītā, who is more steadfast than Arundhatī and Rohiṇī! In your delusion, you did not see that Sītā was not superior to me, nor even equal to me in birth, in beauty and in skills! Death comes to everyone through some agent or the other. Your death came through Sītā.

  ‘Sītā will now be happy with Rāma. But I shall be alone, plunged into an ocean of grief! I have wandered through the pleasant woods of Kailāsa, Meru, Mandara and Caitraratha and the gardens of the gods with you! I have travelled with you to beautiful places and worn the finest clothes and jewels. Now I am bereft of all these pleasures.

  ‘What Vibhiṣaṇa foretold has come true. The rākṣasas have been destroyed. Your lust and anger made you do these terrible things and now the entire race of rākṣasas is without a protector. You were famed for your strength and courage and though I may not mourn for you, I feel compassion because I am a woman! You have reaped the fruits of your good and bad deeds and you have gone your own way. I weep for myself now, for I am nothing without you!

  ‘Why do you lie there as if you are asleep? Why do you not answer me when I am desolate with grief? Your iron battle club decorated with gold filigree, with which you killed so many enemies, which you prized as much as Indra prizes his thunderbolt, it lies smashed into a thousand pieces by Rāma’s arrows! Damn my heart that does not break now that you are dead!’

  ‘Send the women away,’ said Rāma to Vibhīṣaṇa, ‘and perform the last rites for your brother!’

  Vibhīṣaṇa knew dharma and was devoted to it. He also wished to please Rāma and so he thought over the matter and said, ‘I cannot perform the last rites for a creature who was so cruel, so ruthless and unrighteous, who coveted the wives of others! He may have been my brother but he was an enemy, intent on causing harm to all creatures. Even though he was older than me, Rāvaṇa does not deserve this honour! The world will say that I am heartless because of this, but when they hear about Rāvaṇa’s behaviour, they will know that I did the right thing!’

  Rāma, the best of all those who uphold dharma, was very pleased with Vibhīṣaṇa’s words and he replied, ‘I should do what makes you happy since I was victorious because of your courage. But I must also tell you what is the right thing to do. It is true that this rākṣasa’s life was full of lies and deceit and cruelty and unrighteousness. But he was also splendid, brave and strong and he had never been defeated in battle. Death ends all hostilities. We have won. Now perform the funeral rites for him. I am as interested in his welfare as I am in yours. It is fitting that you perform the last rites for Rāvaṇa. An act like this will only add to your fame.’

  Vibhīṣaṇa performed the prescribed rites for Rāvaṇa and when they were completed, he joined Rāma and the monkeys in their victory celebrations.

  The gods, gandharvas and dānavas went away, talking among themselves about the wondrous things they had seen: Rāvaṇa’s brutal death, Rāma’s skills in battle, the splendid fight put up by the monkeys, Sugrīva’s wise advice and Lakṣmaṇa’s affection and courage. Rāma honoured Mātali and dismissed the brilliant charioteer sent to him by Indra. Mātali bade Rāma farewell and took the shining chariot back to the heavens.

  Then Rāma embraced Sugrīva with great joy and after accepting honours and congratulations from the other monkeys, he went back to where the army had camped.

  ‘Vibhīṣaṇa has been devoted and loyal,’ said Rāma to the effulgent Lakṣmaṇa, who stood beside him. ‘We must crown him king of Lankā without any further delay. It is my greatest wish to see Rāvaṇa’s younger brother crowned king.’ Lakṣmaṇa fetched two golden pots filled with water and anointed Vibhīṣaṇa king by Rāma’s decree in the presence of all the rākṣasas. His four rākṣasa companions were appointed ministers.

  Vibhiṣaṇa established peace within his realm and then presented himself to Rāma. The citizens brought him offerings of food, water and flowers and Vibhīṣaṇa gave them all to Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa. Rāma accepted them with a deep satisfaction because he knew that Vibhīṣaṇa had achieved his ends.

  Rāma turned to the mighty monkey Hanumān, who was as large as a mountain, and said, ‘Take King Vibhīṣaṇa’s permission and go with all courtesy to Rāvaṇa’s palace. Give Sītā greetings from Lakṣmaṇa, Sugrīva and myself. Tell her about my victory and Rāvaṇa’s death. Give her all the good news and bring back any message she may have for me!’

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Hanumān entered the city of Lankā and was honoured by all the rākṣasas. He went to Rāvaṇa’s palace and saw Sītā, pale and uncomfortable, like Rohiṇī without the moon. He bowed to her humbly and gently began to tell her all that had happened.

  ‘Rāma, the hero of the Ikṣvākus, sends you his greetings, princess, and asks about your welfare. I have good news for you. Rāma says to tell you, “It is our good fortune that you are alive and I have won the war. Calm yourself and grieve no more! Rāvaṇa has been killed and Lankā is now in my power.”

  ‘Rāma has killed his enemies and achieved his goals. Rāma has killed Rāvaṇa with Lakṣmaṇa’s advice and the help of Vibhīṣaṇa and the monkey army! Do not be confused. It is now all right for you to be in Rāvaṇa’s palace, for Vibhīṣaṇa has been made king of Lankā.’

  Sītā rose in confusion. Overwhelmed with joy, she could not say a word. ‘What are you thinking?’ asked Hanumān gently. ‘Why don’t you say something?’

  In a voice that trembled with happiness, Sītā, who always trod the path of righteousness, said, ‘The news of my husband’s victory left me speechless for a moment! I cannot see anything to give you as a reward for the good news you have brought me! I cannot think of anything in the world that will equal the news you bring, not gold, not jewels, nor even lordship over the three worlds!’

  ‘Gentle lady, your sweet words are worth more to me than a heap of jewels and the kingdom of the gods!’ said Hanumān. ‘I have achieved all I wanted when I saw Rāma victorious over his enemies. But I would like to kill all these cruel and ugly rākṣasīs who used to torment you and make you unhappy! With my fists and feet and teeth, I shall bite off their ears and pull out their hair. I shall kill them by jumping up and down on their ugly, dried-up faces!’

  ‘How can you be angry with women who are slaves?’ said Sītā. ‘They are under the control of the king, they do his bidding and are utterly dependent on him! All that happened to me earlier was because of things I must have done in the past. It was obviously ordained that I would have to suffer these circumstances. I want to forgive Rāvaṇa’s helpless slaves! They only harassed me because he told them to. They will not bother me now that he is dead.

  ‘The truly noble are compassionate and forgive both good and wicked people, criminals as well as those that deserve death. There is no one who has never done anything wrong! You should not even harm those who enjoy hurting others!’

  ‘You are indeed worthy of Rāma!’ said Hanumān when Sītā had finished speaking. ‘You are noble and righteous! Now, command me to return to Rāma!’

  ‘I want to see my husband, monkey!’ said Sītā quietly.

  ‘You will soon see Rāma, whose face is like the full moon, as well as his friends and well-wishers!’ cried Hanumān and returned to Rāma.

  ‘You must see Sītā!’ he said to Rāma, the best of all archers. ‘It was for her that we undertook this enterprise which has ended in success. She has been consumed by grief and her eyes have been filled with tears. She rejoiced when she heard about your victory. She knew me from before and so she trusted me and said, “I want to see my husband who has achieved his ends and Lakṣmaṇa as well!”’

  Rāma was silent for a moment and his eyes filled with tears. He sighed and looked down at the ground and then said to Hanumān, ‘Let Sītā bathe and wash her hair. L
et her adorn herself with jewels and anoint her body with rare unguents. Then bring her here as soon as you can!’

  Vibhiṣaṇa went into the inner apartments and told the women to help Sītā and to tell her that her husband wished to see her after she had bathed and adorned herself. But Sītā insisted that she wanted to see her husband before she bathed. ‘You should do as your husband says,’ replied Vibhīṣaṇa. Sītā did as she was told because she was devoted to her husband who was like a god to her. She bathed and washed her hair and the young women adorned her with fine clothes and rare jewels. Vibhīṣaṇa placed Sītā in an exquisite palanquin and guarded by several rākṣasas, he took her to Rāma.

  With great delight, he honoured Rāma and announced Sītā’s arrival. Rāma seemed preoccupied and deep in thought, even though he knew that Sītā, who had spent so many months in the home of the rākṣasa had come. Joy, depression and anger flooded over him.

  Vibhiṣaṇa tried to organize and control the surging crowds that had gathered there. Men in turbans and coats, their hands rough from wielding whips, moved among the people, getting them to disperse. Monkeys, bears and rākṣasas were driven away and they retreated to a safe distance. Rāma saw that they were disappointed at being pushed along and thinking of their hurt feelings, he put a stop to Vibhīṣaṇa’s actions. His eyes blazed with anger as he said to Vibhiṣaṇa, ‘Why are you going against my wishes and treating these people so harshly? Stop it immediately! These are my people! A woman’s behaviour is what protects her modesty—not a home, nor fine clothes, nor high walls or honours such as these! Women can be seen in public in times of calamities and emergencies, in times of war, at their own weddings and at religious rituals. A war has just been fought on Sītā’s account. She faces a crisis in her life. There is nothing wrong if she is seen in public, especially in my presence! Bring Sītā here quickly, Vibhīṣaṇa! Let her see me surrounded by all my friends!’