The Ramcharitmanas 2

by Tulsidas

  They said to each other,

  ‘Understanding our distress, Ram left us.’

  They reproached themselves and praised the fishes,14 crying,

  ‘Fie upon our lives without Raghubir!

  If the Creator has separated us from our beloved,

  Why does he not give us death upon our asking?’

  In this manner the crowd wailed and lamented,

  And, burning with grief, returned to Avadh.

  Their pain at the separation was terrible beyond telling,

  And only the hope that Ram’s exile would end kept them alive.

  In the hope of seeing Ram again,

  Men and women began to fast and practice penance,

  Wretched as the kok and koki,

  Or lotuses, bereft of the sun.

  (86)

  With Sita and the minister, the two brothers

  Reached Shringberpur.

  Seeing the river of the gods, Ram alighted from the chariot,

  And joyfully prostrated himself.

  Lakshman, the minister and Sita also paid it homage,

  And, together with Ram, were filled with gladness,

  For the Ganga is the root of all joy and well-being,

  The bringer of every happiness and the remover of all pain.

  Repeating countless stories and legends,

  Ram gazed upon the waves of the Ganga,

  And explained to the minister, his brother and his beloved

  The sublime glory of the river of the gods.

  Bathing in the river, the fatigue of their journey disappeared,

  And drinking its pure water, their hearts grew joyful.

  For him, merely remembering whom removes the profound fatigue of birth and rebirth,

  This weariness was merely in accordance with worldly conduct.

  The root of pure being, consciousness and bliss,

  The banner of the Sun’s dynasty,

  Performed actions like those of an ordinary man,

  As a bridge over the ocean of mundane existence.

  (87)

  When Guha, chief of the Nishad tribe, heard this news,

  He was delighted and summoned his beloved kinsfolk and friends.

  Taking with him great baskets of fruits and tubers as gifts,

  He went to meet Ram, boundless joy in his heart.

  Laying down his gifts, he prostrated himself before Ram,

  And gazed with great love at the Lord.

  Raghurai, who is won over by simple love,

  Seated him beside him and asked after his well-being.

  ‘Lord, in looking upon your lotus feet is well-being,

  And I can now count myself amongst the fortunate.

  Lord, my land, wealth, and home are yours

  And I, together with my family, your lowly servant.

  Show us your favour and set foot in our village,

  Mark me your servant and make all envious of my good fortune.’

  Ram replied, ‘You speak truly, my wise friend,

  But my father has commanded me otherwise.

  For fourteen years I must live in the forest,

  In ascetic robes, following ascetic vows and diet,

  So for me to stay in a village is not right.’

  Hearing this, Guha was deeply grieved.

  (88)

  Seeing Ram, Lakshman and Sita’s beauty

  The village men and women lovingly wondered,

  ‘Tell me, my friend, what sort of father and mother are they,

  Who have sent such children to the forest?’

  But one said, ‘The king did well,

  For God has given us this reward for our eyes.’

  Then the Nishad chieftain reflected in his heart,

  And thinking of a beautiful sinsupa tree,

  Took Raghunath and showed him the place.

  Ram declared it to be suitable and pleasant in every way.

  The villagers paid him homage and returned home,

  And Raghubar went to perform the evening rites.

  Guha carefully made a bed, soft and pretty,

  Of kush grass and fresh new leaves,

  And fruits and roots, pure and sweet and tender,

  He placed there with his own hand in leaf-cups filled to the brim, with water.

  After dining on the tubers, roots and fruits

  With Sita, Sumantra and his brother,

  The jewel of the Raghu line lay down to rest.

  His brother massaged his feet.

  (89)

  When he saw that the Lord was asleep, Lakshman rose,

  And in a soft voice told the minister to sleep.

  At a little distance, he made ready his bow and arrows,

  And sat awake in a warrior’s stance, to keep watch.

  Guha summoned his trusted guards,

  And with great love for the Lord, stationed them at different points.

  He himself went to sit beside Lakshman,

  With his quiver at his waist and an arrow fitted to his bow.

  The Nishad, seeing the Lord sleeping,

  Was overcome with love, and his heart filled with grief.

  His body trembling, his eyes flowing with tears,

  He spoke loving words to Lakshman.

  ‘The king’s palace is inherently beautiful,

  Even Indra’s abode cannot compare to it.

  Its charming, jewel-encrusted pavilions

  Seem fashioned by Kamdev’s own hands.

  Bright and clean, of rare and handsome construction, they are filled with luxuries,

  And fragrant with the sweet perfume of flowers.

  With soft beds and jewelled lamps,

  They have every kind of comfort,

  (90)

  And coverlets, cushions and quilts of many kinds,

  As soft and white and pleasing as froth on milk.

  There Sita and Ram would lie down to rest each night,

  Their radiant beauty destroying Rati and Kamdev’s pride.

  The same Ram and Sita now sleep upon a mat of grass and leaves,

  Exhausted, without sheets and coverlets—it is a sight intolerable to behold.

  He whom mother, father, kinsfolk and the citizens of Avadh,

  Devoted friends, servants and handmaidens,

  Would protect and cherish as their own life’s breath,

  The same Lord Ram now sleeps upon the ground!

  And she whose father is mighty Janak, renowned throughout the world,

  Whose father-in-law is Indra’s friend and the lord of the Raghus,

  Whose husband is Ramchandra—the same Vaidehi

  Sleeps upon the ground! Whom does fate not turn against?

  Are Sita and Raghubir fit for exile to the forest?

  Men do rightly say that destiny is supreme!

  Kaikaya’s foolish daughter,

  Through cruel, devious means,

  At a time of joy, brought grief

  Upon Raghunandan and Janaki.

  (91)

  That foolish, vicious woman became an axe to the tree of the sun’s dynasty,

  And plunged the whole world into grief.’

  The Nishad was profoundly sad

  To see Ram and Sita sleeping upon the ground.

  Then Lakshman spoke in tones sweet and soft,

  And steeped in the essence of wisdom, detachment and faith.

  ‘No one is a giver of joy or sorrow to another,

  All suffer the results of their own actions, brother.

  Union and separation, the experiencing of joy or grief,

  Friends, enemies, and those in between—all are snares of delusion.

  Birth and death, anywhere in the entangled net of this illusory world,

  Prosperity and adversity, destiny and time,

  Land, home, wealth, city, family,

  Heaven and hell, and the extent of all human affairs,

  All that you can see and hear or imagine in your mind—

  Are rooted in delusion, and
not the supreme truth.

  Just as in a dream a beggar becomes a king,

  Or the lord of paradise, a pauper,

  But awakening, finds neither gain nor loss—

  So must you look, in your heart, upon this delusory world.

  (92)

  Reflecting thus, do not be angry

  Or uselessly blame anyone.

  All of us sleep in the night of delusion

  And see dreams of many kinds.

  In the night that is this world, only the yogis are awake,

  Seekers of the highest truth, free from delusion.

  Know a soul to be truly awake in this world

  Only when it has renounced all sensual pleasure.

  With discernment, delusion and attachment flee,

  And then comes love for Raghunath’s feet.

  Friend, the supreme, most sublime truth is only this:

  Devotion to Ram’s feet in thought, word and deed.

  Ram is brahm, the Supreme Reality embodied,

  Inconceivable, imperceptible, incomparable,

  Without beginning, free of all flaws, indivisible,

  Whom the Vedas ever describe as “Not this”.

  The compassionate Lord, for the sake of devotees,

  The earth, Brahmans, cows and gods,

  Takes the form of a man and performs wondrous deeds,

  Hearing of which, the snares and tangles of birth and rebirth in this world disappear.

  (93)

  Understanding this, friend, abandon delusion

  And be devoted to Sita and Raghubir’s feet.’

  In speaking of Ram’s virtues, day broke,

  And he who brings joy and bliss to the world awoke.

  After performing all the purificatory rites, Ram bathed;

  Then he, the pure and wise, called for the milk of the banyan tree

  And together with his brother, matted his hair.

  Seeing this, Sumantra’s eyes filled with tears.

  His heart burning with anguish, his face sorrowful,

  He spoke, utterly wretched, his hands folded,

  ‘Lord, the king of Koshal said thus to me:

  “Take a chariot and go with Ram.

  Show them the forest, let them bathe in the divine Ganga,

  And then quickly bring the two brothers back.

  Bring back Lakshman, Ram and Sita,

  Settling all their doubts and hesitation.”

  The king so commanded me, master.

  But now, upon my life, I will do whatever you say.’

  Thus entreating him, he fell at Ram’s feet,

  Weeping like a child.

  (94)

  ‘Beloved son, in your mercy act so that

  Avadh is not left without a master.’

  Ram raised up the minister and consoled him,

  ‘Sir, you have studied and investigated all the aspects of dharma.

  Shibi, Dadhichi and King Harishchandra

  Endured innumerable hardships for the sake of dharma.

  The wise kings Rantidev15 and Bali

  Upheld dharma even whilst bearing many afflictions.

  There is no dharma equal to truth,

  As the Vedas, the Shastras and the Puranas all declare,

  And I have attained that dharma with ease.

  If I abandon it, my disgrace will spread across the three worlds,

  And to men of honour, disgrace

  Is like the burning anguish of ten million deaths.

  What more can I say to you, respected sire?

  In answering you, I only take sin upon myself.

  Clasp my father’s feet, salute him ten million times

  And with folded hands, entreat him from me,

  “Do not be anxious in any way, Father,

  On my account.”

  (95)

  You, too, seek my well-being like my own father,

  And so, revered sire, with folded hands I entreat you,

  Make it your duty in every way to ensure

  That my father does not suffer with anxiety about us.’

  Listening to this conversation between Raghunath and the minister,

  The Nishad and his people grew distressed.

  Then Lakshman spoke some bitter words,

  But the Lord stopped him, regarding them most unseemly.

  Embarrassed, Ram made the minister swear upon him

  That he would not repeat Lakshman’s words.

  Sumantra then gave the king’s message:

  ‘“Sita will not be able to bear the hardships of the forest,

  So whatever will persuade Sita to return to Avadh,

  That is what you, Raghubar, must do.

  Otherwise, left completely without support,

  Like a fish without water, I will not survive.

  In her father’s home and with her husband’s parents, there is every comfort.

  Sita can live happily

  Wherever her heart desires,

  Until these troubles pass.”

  (96)

  The manner in which the king made this plea,

  His anguish and his love—I cannot describe.’

  Hearing his father’s message, the abode of compassion,

  Tried to persuade Sita in innumerable ways:

  ‘Your mother- and father-in-law, our guru, our beloved kinsfolk—

  If you go back, all their grief will vanish.’

  Hearing her husband’s words, Vaidehi replied,

  ‘Listen, most loving lord of my life,

  You are compassionate, Lord, and most discerning—

  Abandoning its body, can a shadow remain?

  Without the sun, where will its radiance go,

  Or where the moonlight, abandoning the moon?’

  Having made this entreaty full of love to her husband,

  She spoke to the minister in a voice sweet and gentle:

  ‘You are my well-wisher, like my father and father-in-law,

  So to answer you back is most unseemly of me.

  But, in the grip of sorrow, I oppose you,

  So do not be offended, revered sire.

  Without the lotus feet of my noble lord,

  All relationships are meaningless to me.

  (97)

  I have seen my father’s magnificence and grandeur,

  His footstool kissed by jewelled crowns of kings.

  Such an abode of bliss is my father’s home,

  Yet, without my beloved, it does not please my heart even in a moment of forgetfulness.

  My father-in-law is the emperor, Koshal’s king,

  Whose glory is manifest in all the fourteen spheres,

  And whom the king of the gods, Indra himself, rushes forward to welcome,

  Giving him half his own throne as a seat.

  Such is my father-in-law, and Avadh my home,

  Beloved is my family, and my mothers-in-law each like a mother to me—

  But without the pollen-dust of Raghupati’s lotus feet,

  None of these give me joy even in dream.

  Inaccessible paths, forests and mountains,

  Elephants, lions, impassable lakes and rivers,

  Kols, Kirats, kurang deer and wild birds—

  With my beloved lord, all are delightful to me.

  Falling at the feet of my mother- and father-in-law

  Entreat them on my behalf,

  “Do not worry about me at all,

  For I am inherently happy in the forest.

  (98)

  With the lord of my life and beloved brother-in-law,

  The greatest of heroes, bearing bows and quivers,

  I will know no fatigue on the road, nor any apprehension or sorrow in my heart.

  So do not, even unwittingly, be anxious about me.”’

  Sumantra, hearing Sita’s calm and soothing words,

  Grew as distraught as a cobra bereft of its crest-jewel,

  And his eyes could not see, nor his ears hear.

  He could not utter a sin
gle word, so deeply distressed was he.

  Ram consoled him in many ways,

  But his troubled heart could not be calmed.

  He begged in countless ways to go with them,

  But Raghunandan gave an appropriate reply each time.

  Ram’s command could not be disobeyed—

  The ways of fate are cruel and beyond control.

  Bowing his head at Ram, Lakshman and Sita’s feet,

  He turned back, like a merchant who has lost his capital.

  He tried to drive his chariot away, but the horses

  Kept looking back at Ram and whinnying.

  Seeing this, the Nishads were overwhelmed by grief—

  They beat their heads, and lamented,

  (99)

  ‘When even animals are so distressed at being separated from him,

  How will his people and his mother and father survive?’

  Resolutely, Ram sent Sumantra away,

  Then came to the banks of the sacred Ganga.

  He called for a boat, but the boatman would not bring it,

  Saying, ‘I know your secret—

  Everyone says that the dust of your lotus feet

  Is some magical herb that can turn things into people.

  At its touch, a rock became a beautiful woman!

  Wood is not as hard as stone,

  And if my boat turns into a muni’s wife

  And flies off, I will be ruined.

  This boat is the mainstay of my whole family,

  And I know no other trade.

  If you are determined to go across, Lord,

  First allow me to wash your lotus feet.

  Only after I have washed your lotus feet will I let you board my boat—

  I seek no other fee from you, Lord.

  I swear by you, Ram, and by Dasharath too,

  That I am speaking truly.

  Let Lakshman shoot his arrows at me,

  But until I wash your feet—till then,

  Compassionate lord of Tulsidas,

  I will not ferry you across!’

  Hearing the boatman’s words,

  So rough and clumsy and wrapped in love,

  The abode of mercy laughed,

  Glancing at Janaki and Lakshman.

  (100)

  The ocean of compassion replied with a smile,

  ‘Do that by which your boat is not lost,

  Quickly fetch some water and wash my feet—

  It is getting late, take us across.’