The Ramcharitmanas 3

by Tulsidas

  Fortunate is the monkey who, for his master’s purpose,

  Dances here, there and everywhere without shame.

  Prancing and leaping to entertain people,

  It serves its master. This is the culmination of its duty.

  Angad, your kind are devoted to their masters,

  So how could you not have praised your lord as you have done?

  I appreciate merit and am exceedingly good-natured,

  So I pay no heed to your rude and bitter chatter.’

  Said the monkey, ‘Your appreciation of merit—

  The Wind’s son told me the truth of that.

  He laid waste your grove, killed your son, burnt down your city,

  But even then you believed he did you no harm.

  It was considering this generous nature of yours,

  Dashkandhar, that I have been so bold and impudent.

  I have now seen for myself what Hanuman had told me—

  You feel no shame, no anger, nor any resentment.’

  ‘It is because you think this way, monkey, that you proved to be your father’s death.’

  Saying these words, the ten-headed one laughed.

  ‘Having consumed my father, I would have killed you next,

  But another thought has just occurred to me—

  Knowing you to be the cause of Baali’s untainted fame,

  I will not kill you, you arrogant wretch.

  Tell me, Ravan, how many Ravans are there in this world?

  Or listen while I tell you the ones I have heard of—

  One went to Patal to conquer Bali, king of the underworld,

  Where children tied him up and kept him in the stables.

  The boys beat him in play,

  Till Bali took pity on him and let him go.

  Another one was spotted by Sahasrabahu,

  Who ran and captured him as though he were a strange animal,

  And finding him to be a curious spectacle, took him home—

  The sage Pulastya then went and had him released.

  And one, I feel greatly abashed to say,

  Was held tight under my father, Baali’s, armpit.

  Which amongst these are you, Ravan?

  Tell me the truth, without anger.’

  (24)

  ‘Listen, fool, I am that same mighty Ravan,

  The miraculous doings of whose arms is known to Har’s mountain,

  Whose valour is known to Uma’s beloved lord,

  In whose worship I have offered my heads as flowers.

  I have, with my own hands, taken off the lotuses of my heads

  Countless times to worship Tripurari.

  The guardians of the quarters know the might of my arms,

  Which is like a thorn in their hearts even today, you fool.

  The elephants who hold up the earth know the hardness of my chest,

  Whose formidable tusks, whenever I closed with them in combat,

  Made not the slightest impression upon it,

  But snapped off like radishes as they struck against it.

  He, at whose moving the earth rocks

  Like a small boat when a mast elephant steps into it,

  I am that same Ravan, whose glory is famed throughout the world!

  Did you never hear of him, you lying chatterer?

  That is the Ravan you belittle

  And exalt a mere man!

  You savage, rude, vile and wicked monkey,

  Now I understand your wisdom!’

  (25)

  Hearing these words, Angad angrily replied,

  ‘Speak with care, you vile braggart.

  How can he be a mortal man, you ten-headed wretch,

  Beholding whom Parashuram’s arrogance fled—

  That same Parashuram whose axe was like a fire

  That burnt down the boundless forest of Sahasrabahu’s arms,

  Or like the sharp, swift tide of the sea

  In which countless kings drowned again and again?

  How can Ram be a mere man, you arrogant fool?

  Is Kamdev a mere bowman, or the Ganga only a river?

  Is the divine Kamadhenu a mere beast, and the Kalpataru only a tree?

  Is the gift of food just any gift, or nectar an ordinary drink?

  Is Vainateya just a bird, thousand-headed Shesh only a snake,

  And the wish-granting Chintamani merely a stone, Dashanan?

  Listen, you dull-witted fool, is Vaikuntha just any world,

  And unceasing devotion to Raghupati an ordinary blessing?

  And Hanuman, who trampled your pride and that of your army’s,

  Laid waste your grove, burnt down your city—

  Is he, fool, a mere monkey,

  Who returned home unharmed after killing your son?

  (26)

  Listen, Ravan, give up deceit.

  Why do you not worship the ocean of mercy, Raghurai?

  If you, wretch, remain Ram’s enemy,

  Neither Brahma nor Rudra can protect you.

  Fool, do not brag and boast in vain.

  If you fight with Ram, this will be your state—

  Struck by Ram’s arrows, your multiple heads

  Will fall to the ground in front of the monkeys,

  And using your heads like so many balls,

  The bears and monkeys will play chaugan3 with them.

  When Ram grows wrathful in battle,

  His arrows fly thick and terrible.

  Will your boasting then still prevail?

  Reflect on this and worship Ram, who is generous and forgiving.’

  Hearing Angad’s words, Ravan flared up anew,

  Like a blazing fire upon which ghee has been poured.

  ‘I have a brother like Kumbhakaran,

  And my son is the renowned Meghnad, vanquisher of Indra!

  And have you not heard of my valour,

  By which I conquered all creation, moving and unmoving?

  (27)

  With the help of tree-dwelling monkeys, fool,

  Ram bridged the sea—and that is his power and glory?

  Countless birds also cross the ocean,

  But listen, monkey, that doesn’t make them heroes!

  My arms are seas brimming over with the tides of strength,

  In which have drowned innumerable gods, men and demons.

  Who is there so valiant who can cross

  These twenty oceans, deep and vast?

  I have made the guardians of the quarters draw water for me,

  And you tell me about some mere mortal king’s glory, wretch?

  If that master of yours, whose glory you recount again and again,

  Is truly valiant in battle,

  Then why does he need to send a messenger?

  Is he not ashamed to make alliance with his enemy?

  Look at my arms, which lifted and shook Har’s mountain,

  And then, foolish monkey, praise, if you will, your master to me!

  What hero is as valiant as Ravan,

  Who cut off his heads with his own hands,

  And joyously gave them as offerings to the sacrificial fire

  Countless times—as Gauri’s lord is witness!

  (28)

  When, as my heads burnt, I saw

  The letters written upon my brow by Vidhi,

  And read that I would be killed by a man,

  I laughed, knowing that Vidhi’s words were untrue.

  Remembering this, I have no fear—

  Old Viranchi wrote this with his mind confused by age.

  And yet, fool, casting aside all modesty and decorum,

  You praise again and again another hero’s might in my presence!’

  Replied Angad, ‘In this world, Ravan,

  There is none so modest as you.

  Modesty is innate in you—

  Never do you, with your own tongue, praise yourself.

  The story of your heads and the mountain is constantly in your mind,

  Which is why yo
u have told it me twenty times!

  And the strength of your arms by which you defeated Sahasrabahu, Bali, and Baali—

  Those tales you have kept hidden in your heart.

  Listen, dimwit, now end this.

  Does one become a hero by cutting off one’s head?

  No one calls a magician brave,

  Though he cuts up his whole body with his own hands!

  Moths, overcome by delusion, burn themselves to death

  And herds of donkeys carry heavy loads,

  But they are not called heroic or valiant—

  Think, idiot, and understand!

  (29)

  Now stop arguing, wretch,

  And listen to my words without arrogance.

  Dashmukh, I have not come here as an envoy to propose an alliance.

  Raghubir has sent me here with a different motive.

  The merciful one often says

  That a lion earns no glory by killing a jackal.

  Keeping those words of my Lord in my heart,

  I have tolerated, fool, your rude and discourteous words.

  Otherwise I would have broken your head,

  And forcibly taken away Sita.

  I had the measure of your might, vile enemy of the gods,

  When you stole away another’s wife when she was all alone.

  You are the king of the demons and very haughty,

  While I am only a messenger of one of Raghupati’s servants.

  But if I were not afraid of displeasing Ram,

  I would have wrought this wonder even as you watched.

  After dashing you to the ground, routing your army,

  And destroying your town, fool,

  I would have taken away Janak’s daughter,

  With all your women and wives.

  (30)

  Were I to do so, though, I would gain no glory,

  For there is no valour in killing those already dead.

  One of heretical views, one in the grip of lust, a miser, or a fool,

  One exceedingly poor, of bad repute, or extremely aged,

  One who is always ill, or perpetually angry,

  One hostile to Vishnu, or opposed to the Vedas and the saints,

  One who pampers only his body, or defames others, or in whom resides every sin—

  These fourteen kinds of beings are like corpses even when alive.

  Reflecting thus, I do not kill you, wretch.

  So now don’t make me angry.’

  On hearing this, the lord of the demons grew furious—

  He bared his teeth and rubbed his hands, and snarled,

  ‘You wretched monkey! It seems you are now determined to die,

  For you speak big words from a tiny mouth!

  He, by whose strength, stupid monkey, you so fiercely gibber and chatter,

  Has no might, no power, no wit, nor glory.

  Finding him bereft of good qualities or self-respect,

  His father exiled him to the forest.

  This sorrow and the grief of separation from his young wife weigh heavily upon him—

  And then, terror of me oppresses him night and day.

  (31A)

  He of whose might you are so proud,

  There are many men like him—

  We demons devour them day and night.

  Stop being so stubborn, fool, and understand what I say.’

  (31B)

  When he thus disparaged Ram,

  The monkey prince was furious.

  He who listens to attacks upon Hari and Har,

  Incurs sin equal to that of killing a cow.

  The monkey, huge as an elephant, gnashed his teeth in fury,

  And, flying into a terrible rage, struck the earth with both his mighty arms.

  The earth swayed and shook. The ministers, thrown out of their seats,

  Fled, carried off on the winds of fear.

  Dashkandhar steadied himself and stood up.

  His magnificent crowns lay upon the ground—

  Some he picked up and set upon his heads,

  Some Angad threw towards the Lord.

  When they saw the crowns come flying through the air, the monkeys ran away, crying,

  ‘Are stars falling during the day, dear God?

  Or has Ravan in his anger released

  Four thunderbolts that come with such great speed?

  The Lord smiled and said, ‘Do not be afraid,

  These are not stars or thunderbolts, nor even Ketu or Rahu.

  These are ten-headed Ravan’s crowns,

  Which come here sent by Baali’s son.

  The Wind’s son leapt and caught them in his hand,

  And brought and placed them before the Lord.

  The bears and monkeys gazed at them in wonder,

  For their brilliance was like that of the sun.

  (32A)

  And in his court the furious Dashanan

  Cried angrily to all,

  ‘Seize the monkey, seize and kill him!’

  Hearing this, Angad smiled.

  (32B)

  ‘Kill him and then run quickly, all you great warriors,

  And devour every bear and monkey wherever you find them.

  Go, clear this earth of monkeys,

  And capture those two ascetic brothers alive!’

  Then Prince Angad angrily said,

  ‘Are you not ashamed to brag and bluster thus?

  Cut your throat and die, you shameless destroyer of your own clan!

  Does your heart not burst upon seeing my might?

  You villainous woman-stealer!

  Aggregate of everything evil and impure! You lustful dimwit!

  You babble vile and vicious words as though delirious—

  Death has you in its grip, you vile, man-eating Rakshasa!

  The fruit of this you will receive in the future,

  When you feel the blows of the monkeys and bears.

  Calling Ram a mortal man—

  How do your tongues not fall off?

  But—and of this there is no doubt—your tongues will fall off,

  Along with your heads, upon the field of battle.

  Is he a mere man, Dashkandhar,

  He who slew Baali with a single shaft?

  For all your twenty eyes you are still blind.

  Cursed be your birth, you base-born fool!

  (33A)

  Ram’s arrows are thirsty,

  Longing for your blood.

  I spare you only for fear of him,

  You vile and bitter-tongued demon!

  (33B)

  I am capable of breaking your teeth,

  But Raghunayak has not given me permission.

  I am so furious I could break all your ten heads,

  And picking up Lanka, sink it into the sea.

  Your Lanka is like the fruit of the wild fig tree,

  And you the unsuspecting insect that lives in its centre.

  I am a monkey, I would have devoured this fruit in an instant,

  But the gracious Ram did not give me the command.’

  Ravan smiled to hear his clever metaphor,

  ‘Fool, where did you learn to tell such falsehoods?

  Baali never bragged or blustered thus!

  Associating with the ascetics, you have become a liar!’

  ‘I am truly a liar, twenty-armed one,

  If I do not pull out your ten tongues!’

  Remembering Ram’s majesty, the monkey grew furious,

  And determinedly planted his foot in the middle of the assembly.

  ‘If you can move my foot, you fool,

  Ram will go back, and I will give up Sita.’

  ‘Hear that, you brave warriors all!’ cried the ten-headed one.

  ‘Grab his foot and dash the monkey to the ground!’

  Indrajit and other mighty warriors

  Rose up, rejoicing, wherever they sat,

  And fell upon him using all their great strength,

  But his foot did not
move, and they sat back down with bowed heads.

  Again those enemies of the gods rose up and fell upon him,

  But could not move the monkey’s foot in the same way

  That one devoted to worldly pleasures, Uragari,xi

  Cannot uproot the tree of delusion.

  Countless warriors as mighty as Meghnad

  Rose up rejoicing.

  Try as they might, they could not move the monkey’s foot,

  But sat down again, heads bowed in defeat.

  (34A)

  The monkey’s foot would not leave the ground

  In the same way that the heart of a holy man,

  Despite countless obstacles, will not give up righteousness.

  Seeing this, the enemy’s pride was broken.

  (34B)

  Seeing the monkey’s strength, all lost heart.

  Upon being challenged by the monkey, Ravan himself rose,

  And as he reached out to grasp his foot, Baali’s son said,

  ‘You won’t find deliverance in grabbing my foot.

  Why don’t you go and clasp Ram’s foot, fool?’

  At this, Ravan turned away, deeply mortified.

  He lost his majesty, and all his splendour left him,

  As when the moon shines faintly at midday.

  He sat upon his throne with bowed head,

  As though he had lost all his riches.

  Ram is the spirit of the universe, the lord of life—

  Can one hostile to him ever find peace?

  Uma, at the play of Ram’s brows

  The universe comes into existence and is again dissolved.

  He can turn a blade of grass into a thunderbolt, and a thunderbolt into a blade of grass—

  So how could his ambassador’s challenge fail?

  Then the monkey explained righteousness and right policy to him in many ways,

  But Ravan would not listen for his death had drawn near.

  Having crushed the enemy’s pride and recounted the glory of his Lord,

  King Baali’s son departed with these words:

  ‘Till I kill you on the battlefield in play,

  Why do I bother to praise myself?’

  Ravan was already stricken with grief, when he had heard

  That the monkey had killed his son.

  Now the demons, upon witnessing Angad’s challenge,

  Grew even more distraught.

  Having crushed the enemy’s power, the mighty monkey,

  Baali’s son,

  His body trembling, his eyes full of tears,