The Ramcharitmanas 3

by Tulsidas

  When children spin round and round in play, the houses and trees do not,

  But they call each other liars for saying so—

  Such also is the attribution of delusion to Hari, O bird,

  For not even in dream is the Lord a subject of ignorance.

  But the dull-witted wretches in the grip of delusion,

  Whose hearts are surrounded by many walls,

  Are the fools who stubbornly raise doubts

  And lay their own ignorance upon Ram.

  Addicted to lust, anger, pride and greed,

  Engrossed in domestic affairs, the very nature of which is suffering,

  How can they know Raghupati,

  These fools who have fallen into a well of darkness?

  (73A)

  The formless aspect of the Absolute is easy to understand,

  But no one can understand its incarnation.

  Even the minds of munis are perplexed

  Hearing of his many exploits, whether simple or profound.

  (73B)

  Hear, O king of the birds, of Raghupati’s power,

  As I relate, to the best of my ability, a delightful story.

  I will also tell you the whole story, my lord,

  Of how I was overcome by delusion.

  You are a receptacle of Ram’s grace, sire.

  You cherish great love for Hari’s perfections, and so give me great joy.

  Therefore I will hide nothing from you,

  But reveal to you a profound and charming secret.

  Hear, too, of Ram’s innate nature—

  He does not tolerate pride in his devotees,

  For pride is the root of rebirth, causes all kinds of pain,

  And gives rise to every sorrow.

  That is why, in his great affection for his devotees,

  The merciful Lord gets rid of it

  As when a boil appears on a child’s body, my lord,

  And the mother has it ruthlessly lanced.

  Although at first it hurts,

  And the child cries uncontrollably,

  The mother takes no notice of the little one’s pain,

  Her purpose being to cure the affliction.

  (74A)

  In the same way, for their own good,

  Raghupati cures his servants of pride.

  Who would not, abandoning all confusion,

  Worship such a Lord? So asks Tulsidas.

  (74B)

  O king of the birds, I will now tell you

  Of Ram’s grace and my own stupidity—listen with attention.

  Whenever Ram takes on human form,

  And, for the sake of his devotees, performs his countless playful acts,

  I go to the city of Avadh,

  And watch his childish acts with delight.

  I go and attend the great festival of his birth,

  And, charmed by his doings, stay there for five years.

  My own chosen god is the child Ram,

  In whose frame is contained the beauty of countless Kamdevs.

  Ever gazing upon the face of my own Lord,

  Uragari, I let my eyes be blessed.

  Taking on the insignificant form of a crow, I stay with Hari,

  And watch his various childish doings.

  Wherever he wanders in childhood,

  There I fly, close to him.

  And for food I pick up and eat

  Only the scraps that he lets fall in the courtyard.

  (75A)

  Once, Raghubir performed all his divine acts

  With heightened intensity.”

  Remembering those playful doings of the Lord,

  Bhushundi trembled with joy.

  (75B)

  “O king of the birds,” he continued,

  “Ram’s deeds always give joy to his devotees.

  The king’s palace was beautiful in every way,

  All of gold, and inlaid with precious stones of various kinds.

  The lovely courtyard, where the four brothers

  Daily played, defies description.

  Here Raghurai romped about,

  Performing the childish antics that delighted his mother.

  His tender frame was as dark as an emerald,

  Every part of it imbued with the beauty of countless Kamdevs.

  His feet were soft, and pink like new-blooming lotuses,

  With lovely toes and nails that had stolen the radiance of the moon,

  And soles marked with the thunderbolt, elephant-goad, flag and lotus.

  His pretty anklets made a sweet sound,

  While around his waist a bright girdle of little bells, made of gold and studded with jewels,

  Softly tinkled.

  Three lines creased his beautiful belly,

  His navel was pretty and deep.

  His broad chest glittered with jewels

  Befitting a child’s attire.

  (76)

  His rosy palms, and nails and fingers were heart-enchanting,

  And his long arms adorned with lovely ornaments.

  He had the shoulders of a young lion, a conch-like neck,

  A shapely chin, and a face the very extreme of beauty.

  His speech was lisping, his lips were red,

  And he had two perfect little white teeth above and below.

  He had pretty cheeks, a beautiful nose,

  And a smile that delighted all and was as radiant as the rays of the moon.

  His blue-lotus eyes released one from rebirth,

  And upon his forehead shone a gorochan tilak.

  His brows were arched, his ears shapely,

  And his curly hair black and beautiful.

  A fine yellow tunic shone upon his body,

  And his joyous shrieks and happy glances captivated me.

  The beautiful child played in the king’s courtyard,

  Dancing at the sight of his own shadow.

  He played all kinds of games with me,

  Which I feel too bashful to describe.

  When, laughing and shrieking, he would run to catch me,

  I would fly away; then he would show me a sweet flour-cake.

  If I drew near, the Lord would laugh,

  And cry if I flew away.

  If I went up to him to touch his feet,

  He would run away, turning again and again to look at me.

  (77A)

  Seeing him play like an ordinary child,

  I became confused.

  What were these actions of the Lord,

  Who is the aggregation of knowledge and bliss?

  (77B)

  As soon as this doubt came into my mind, king of the birds,

  Raghupati’s delusive power, directed by him, overcame me.

  But his maya did not trouble me,

  Nor did it trap me in the cycle of birth and rebirth as it does other beings.

  This, my lord, was because of a special reason—

  Listen attentively to what it was, O steed of Hari!

  Sita’s beloved alone is absolute knowledge,

  While every creature, moving or unmoving, is under the sway of maya.

  If all were endowed with the same perfect knowledge,

  Tell me, what would be the difference between God and the individual soul?

  The individual soul in its arrogance is subject to maya,

  And maya, the source of the three gunas, is subject to God.

  The individual soul is dependent, the Deity is self-dependent;

  The individual souls are many, Lakshmi’s beloved is one.

  Though these distinctions, which have been created by maya, are without purpose,

  They do not disappear without Hari’s grace, no matter what you try.

  He who seeks salvation

  Without prayer to Ramchandra,

  Is a beast without tail and horns,

  Whether he be wise or not.

  (78A)

  Even if the moon were to rise in all its brilliance,

  With its entire en
tourage of stars,

  Or every forest on every mountain set ablaze,

  Night would not end without the sun.

  (78B)

  In the same way, O king of the birds, without the worship of Hari,

  Mortals cannot be rid of their suffering.

  Ignorance cannot prevail upon a servant of Hari’s—

  It is knowledge, impelled by the Lord, that pervades his whole being.

  That is why, O noblest of birds, the servant is never destroyed,

  But his devotion to the Lord grows ever stronger.

  Ram laughed when he saw me bewildered and confused—

  Now hear more of the wondrous act that followed.

  The mystery of that playful deed no one ever knew,

  Not his younger brothers, nor his mother or father.

  The child, dark of form, with rosy palms and feet,

  Upon his hands and knees, he rushed to catch me,

  At that, Uragari, I took to flight,

  And Ram stretched out his arms to catch me.

  I flew higher and higher into the sky,

  But still saw his arms as close to me as ever.

  I flew up into Brahma’s realm,

  But when I looked back in my flight,

  Two fingers’ breadth was all the distance, sire,

  Between Ram’s arms and me.

  (79A)

  Piercing the seven veils5 of the world,

  I flew as high as I could.

  But when there too I saw the Lord’s arms,

  I grew alarmed.

  (79B)

  Terrified, I closed my eyes,

  And when I opened them again, I found myself in Ayodhya.

  Ram looked at me with a smile,

  And as he laughed, I instantly fell into his mouth.

  Inside his belly, O king of the birds,

  I saw innumerable clusters of universes,

  And within those, many strange worlds,

  Each more wonderful than the other.

  There were countless Brahmas and Shivs,

  Innumerable stars and suns and moons,

  Innumerable guardians of the quarters and gods of death and time,

  Innumerable mountains and vast plains,

  Seas, rivers, lakes and forests without end,

  And many more kinds of worlds spread out,

  With gods, munis, Siddhas, serpents, men and Kinnaras,

  And the four kinds of beings, moving and unmoving.

  Wonders that I had never seen, never heard of,

  And which had never entered my mind,

  All those marvels I saw there.

  How can I ever describe them?

  (80A)

  In each universe I stayed

  One hundred years,

  And in this manner I wandered about

  Visiting numerous worlds.

  (80B)

  Each world had its own separate Creator,

  Its own Vishnu, Shiv and Manu, its own deities guarding the points of the compass,

  And men, Gandharvas, ghosts and goblins,

  Kinnaras, demons, animals, birds and serpents,

  And all the tribes of gods and Danavs.

  Every creature was there, but different in form.

  Each world, with its many rivers, seas, lakes, mountains,

  Indeed each universe, was quite distinct.

  In every universe I saw my own form,

  And many other strange and extraordinary sights.

  Every world had its own separate Ayodhya,

  Its own Sarju, and its own, different, men and women.

  And listen, sire, Dasharath and Kaushalya were there too,

  And Bharat and the other brothers, different in each world.

  In every universe, I witnessed Ram’s descent

  And his infinite childlike play.

  I saw everything separately and differently repeated—

  It was all quite extraordinary, O steed of Hari!

  But though I wandered through countless worlds,

  I did not see a different Ram, my lord.

  (81A)

  The same childlike ways, the same beauty,

  The same gracious Raghubir

  Were what I saw as I went from world to world,

  Blown along by the fierce wind of delusion.

  (81B)

  In my wanderings through the numerous universes,

  One hundred kalpas must have passed.

  At last I came to my own hermitage,

  And there I stayed for some time.

  When I heard of my Lord’s descent at Avadh,

  I was overwhelmed with love and joy, and rushed there at once

  To witness the great celebration of his birth

  In the manner I have earlier described to you.

  In Ram’s belly I saw many worlds,

  A sight to be seen, but beyond all telling.

  There I beheld again the all-wise Ram,

  Maya’s master, the merciful God.

  I reflected upon this again and again,

  But my understanding was clouded by delusion.

  I saw all this within the space of an hour,

  And I was utterly confused and bewildered.

  When he saw me so troubled,

  The all-merciful Raghubir laughed,

  And the instant he laughed,

  I fell out of his mouth, O Garud,

  (82A)

  And Ram began to play his childlike games

  With me again.

  I tried to explain this to myself in a million ways,

  But my mind knew no rest.

  (82B)

  Seeing his childlike doings now and recalling the supreme power I had just witnessed,

  I lost awareness of my own body.

  I fell to the ground, unable to utter a word

  Except to cry, ‘Save me, save me, O protector of the afflicted!’

  When the Lord saw me so overcome with devotion,

  He at once reined in the power of his maya.

  Then the Lord, who is ever merciful to the lowly, placed his lotus hands

  Upon my head and took away all my sorrow.

  Ram, sum of compassion and the bestower of joy upon his devotees,

  Thus rid me of all delusion.

  As I reflected upon his great power that I had earlier glimpsed,

  My heart filled with great joy.

  Seeing his great tenderness towards his devotees,

  Deep love sprang up in my heart.

  With folded hands, and my eyes full of tears and my body trembling,

  I paid him homage again and again.

  Hearing my loving words,

  And seeing in me his own humble servant,

  He who dwells with Ramaa spoke words

  That were pleasing, sweet and profound.

  (83A)

  ‘Kak Bhushundi, know me to be very pleased

  And ask of me any boon,

  Be it a mystic power like anima, boundless wealth,

  Or freedom from rebirth, the source of all bliss.

  (83B)

  Or wisdom, knowledge, dispassion, discernment,

  And all those many qualities that are difficult even for sages to attain in this world—

  All these, without hesitation, I am ready to give you today. So ask whatever your heart desires.’

  Upon hearing the Lord’s words, I was filled with great love,

  And I began to think to myself,

  ‘The Lord, it is true, has offered to give me every blessing,

  But he has not offered to grant me devotion to him.

  Without devotion, all these virtues and blessings

  Are like condiments without salt.

  Without prayer, what use is any blessing?’

  Having thus reflected, O king of the birds, I replied,

  ‘If it is your pleasure, Lord, to give me a boon,

  And bestow upon me your grace and love,

  I ask the boon my heart desires, master,

 
; For you are generous and know the inner secrets of all hearts.

  Unceasing and unalloyed faith in you,

  Of which the Vedas and Puranas sing,

  And for which the greatest ascetics and sages search

  But only a few, by your grace, find—

  (84A)

  O Ram, wish-fulfilling Kalpataru to the devotee, friend of the suppliant,

  Ocean of mercy and abode of all bliss,

  Show me your grace, O Lord,

  And grant me that faith in you.’

  (84B)

  ‘So be it,’ said the prince of the Raghu line,

  And then spoke these most pleasing words,

  ‘Listen, O crow, you are inherently wise,

  So how could you have asked for any boon but this!

  You have asked for devotion, the source of all blessing—

  There is no one as fortunate as you in the world,

  For even those munis who destroy their bodies in the fire of prayer and penance,

  Cannot attain to it despite all their efforts.

  I am delighted to see your shrewdness.

  That you asked for devotion to me, pleased me greatly.

  Listen now, bird, to the gifts I bestow upon you:

  Every good quality will reside in your heart—

  Devotion, wisdom, knowledge, dispassion,

  The practice of abstract contemplation, and the mystery of my exploits and their classification.

  You will understand the secret of all these,

  And by my grace, will not need to suffer the hardship of spiritual endeavour.

  All the confusions born of maya

  Will no longer affect you.

  Know me as brahm, the Supreme Absolute, without beginning or birth or attributes,

  And endowed with every transcendent quality.

  (85A)

  Listen, O crow, devotees are always dear to me—

  Remember this,

  And in thought, word and deed,

  Practise unwavering devotion to my feet.

  (85B)

  Now listen to this pure speech of mine,

  Which is true and simple and has been explained in the Vedas and other scriptures.

  I will reveal to you my own doctrine—

  Listen to it with attention, and, abandoning all others, worship only me.

  The world has come forth from my maya,

  With all its diverse forms of life, moving and unmoving.