The Ramayana Read online

  “And now this? Oh no, Rama, this I cannot bear. I will come with you into the Dandaka vana. Yes, I have to!”

  She buried her face in her hands, and her frail form shook with sobs.

  9. Lakshmana’s anger

  Then Lakshmana could not stand it any more, and cried, “Our father has lost his reason! His love for Kaikeyi blinds him. But why should Rama sacrifice the throne for the whim of a greedy woman? For what crime is my blemishless brother banished to the Dandaka vana? A king should think of what is best for his kingdom, and not what suits his favorite wife.

  “I will not allow this. Our father walks the way of sin. As God is my witness, I will kill him and his Kaikeyi, and the world will forgive my parricide.”

  The distraught Kausalya cried, “You hear your brother, Rama. He has my blessing! I speak as your mother who has as much right to your obedience as your father does. I order you not to go to the forest, leaving me at the mercy of the younger queens. If you do, count yourself guilty of the sin of the lord of the rivers: of matrihatya. For I will die if you go.”

  Rama remained silent. He let them vent their grief, knowing it was sorrow that spoke as anger and threat. He touched his mother’s feet. Quietly, he said, “I cannot break my word to my father: that is how the ancient rishis have laid down the law for us. Think how Parasurama cut off his mother’s head because his father asked him to. The dharma taught in the Shastras cannot be false. The Shastras say that a son who does not obey his father has no place in heaven.

  “Lakshmana, you have sat at our guru’s feet and learned dharma. You know about vairagya. You know a man should accept his destiny with equanimity, be it fortune or misfortune. I know you love me more than anyone else; but love does not turn to violent means for its satisfaction. Violence is never dharma and you must not give in to your anger. I must go to the forest; my fate lies there. I must keep my sacred pledge to my father and mother Kaikeyi.”

  He touched Kausalya’s feet again. “Say the mantras of fortune over me; let me go to the vana. I will return to you as soon as my exile is served. Put away your grief and bless me. It is the way of dharma I go on, and in this world there is no other path to salvation.”

  Kausalya stared at her son. She saw he was perfectly calm and determined. For a long moment she stared, then she said slowly, “Rama, dharma clearly says that a man’s mother is as sacred to him as his father. Both are equal gurus. I command you to stay here by my side.” But then she broke down and began to sob. “Oh, my son, I cannot live without you. Even if I see you for just an hour, it is enough for me, and I can bear the burden of my life.”

  Lakshmana cried again, “I will kill the king and his Kaikeyi! You shall not go to the forest.”

  Rama turned to him and said sharply, “You add your anger again to my mother’s grief. You do not help me, Lakshmana.”

  10. The way of dharma

  Rama said, “Mother, the path I mean to tread leads straight to heaven, and any other to ruin. I must go to the forest. Bless me now; let me go in some peace.”

  He paused thoughtfully, then said with a smile, “Just yesterday, my father wanted to crown me, and today he must banish me to keep his word. If this is not the hand of fate, then I am much mistaken. Until yesterday Kaikeyi never made any distinction between Bharata and me; why, you could say I was her favorite son. Today she spoke words that struck me like knives and even her voice was not her own. If this wasn’t fate speaking through her, for a more mysterious end than any of us yet know, I am much mistaken.”

  When he thought of Kaikeyi, there was anguish on his face. He said, “She would not have spoken to me as she did, and before her husband, unless I was paying for some sin of a past life. For in this one I have never hurt her before; nor she me. I tell you, Lakshmana, all this is fate working toward her own inscrutable ends. Not even the rishis who are masters of their senses are beyond fate; even they fall prey to the passions of destiny. Then how can we escape her? It is not that mother Kaikeyi is evil, or that she hates me; only that destiny uses her, even against her own nature. Do you think she feels no pain at what she does? No, she is the most wounded of all.”

  But Lakshmana fumed, “Rama, it is folly to attribute what a common, greedy woman does to fate. There is cunning and design in her. How is it that only now, when you are to be crowned, she asks for her boons? She planned this all along, biding her time, pretending to love you, and made long fools of us all. Only a weakling accepts such a fate. If you let me take arms against this fate, I will show you which is more powerful: what you call providence or my arrows!

  “Listen to me, Rama. No one, not the people, not the kings of the earth, not even the Devas will oppose your being crowned today. By force, if need be.”

  But Rama smiled at him and ruffled his hair as one does to a child. He said patiently, “The way of the soul is longer than fourteen years in a forest. You want me to sacrifice immortality for a paltry fourteen years? No, Lakshmana, you are wrong. Calm yourself. Think with your intellect, not your burning heart, and you will see what I must do.”

  Kausalya knew her son’s mind was made up; nothing would persuade him to abandon what he saw as being dharma and obedience to his father. In a low voice she said, “I see you will go to the vana no matter what. Rama, take me with you.”

  Rama looked at her and said gently, “How will my father bear my exile if you aren’t at his side? You must not abandon him now. He needs you, mother, and your place is here with him. That is your dharma.”

  She was silent. At last she sighed, “I will stay in Ayodhya. May Narayana give me the strength to bear this as well.”

  Rama smiled at his mother. “Take strength in Bharata. He is also your son; he will look after you. Now bless me and let me go: the sooner I leave the sooner I will return to you.”

  Kausalya said, “When fate is ranged against me, what else can I do? Go with my blessing and may your exile be more joyful to you than kingship. May Indra’s Devas and Viswamitra’s astras protect you in the jungle. May your path always be clear, my noble son, and your valor tameless. Come back to me the day your exile is over. I will wait for you each moment of the cruel years.”

  She poured libation on the fire again, and prayed, “May the blessing that Indra had from his mother Aditi, when he went to kill Vritrasura, be upon you, Rama. May the blessing Garuda had from his mother Vinata, when he went after the amrita, be upon you. May the blessing Vamana bore, when he came to Mahabali’s yagna, be upon you. May the jungle be a haven to you and a kingdom of joy.”

  She grew calm with these incantations. She marked a tilaka on Rama’s brow and tied a raksha of protection around his wrist. Her anxiety had left her, now that she recognized her own dharma. She embraced her son. Her weakness had passed, and she said, “I know you will return after fourteen years. I, who have waited so long, will wait a little longer. And I will see you in your rightful place, on the throne of your ancestors. Now go while I am strong, before my heart fails me again.”

  Rama lay one last time at her feet. Taking the padadhuli from them, he went out without looking back again.

  11. Sita

  The news had not yet filtered past the palace doors into the streets of Ayodhya. Rama gained his own palace quickly, by crying to the crowd that time was short. He did not say for what. But the smile that he managed to keep along the way vanished as soon as he passed his doors. His mind was a whirl and he had broken out in a sweat when he came to Sita.

  She saw his face and ran to him with a cry. “What happened, Rama?”

  For a moment, he stood staring mutely at her. Then he slumped into a chair and buried his head in his hands. He took her hands in his, kissed them feverishly, and said, “Sita, my father has banished me to the Dandaka vana for fourteen years. He once granted Kaikeyi two boons for saving his life. Last night, she asked that Bharata be crowned yuvaraja and that I be exiled to the jungle.”

  She began to speak, but he raised a hand for her to be quiet. “Listen to me, Sita, my
time is short. My father is bound in honor to keep his word. It is his dharma, and mine to uphold it. But I want you to be careful in Ayodhya. I want you to remember, always, that no man who sits upon a throne likes to hear another man being praised. Never praise me in Bharata’s presence or show how much you miss me. Don’t speak of me at all before him.”

  He smiled wanly and stroked her face. “Which does not mean that you forget me! Pray for me, Sita, keep your vows. I don’t know how my mother and my father will bear this; be loving to them. But remember, no matter what has happened today, Sumitra and Kaikeyi are also my mothers. Bharata and Shatrughna will look after you; love them as your own brothers. But remember, Bharata will be king, and a king will abandon even his own child if it does not obey him. So tread carefully with Bharata: from today you are not his older brother’s wife but his subject.”

  Sita’s eyes did not fill with tears, as he expected; they flashed in anger. She cried accusingly, “Rama, what have I done to deserve such cruelty from you? The dharma I learned in my father’s house was perhaps different from what you did here. But I have been taught that for better or for worse, a wife’s dharma is to share her husband’s fate.

  “If you have been banished to the Dandaka vana, then so have I. I will go with you, Rama; my place is at your side. With you, I would walk down the paths of hell. The jungle will be like heaven for me. I must disobey you in this, my love; forget my disobedience, as you do the water you leave behind in a glass after drinking.

  “I want to come to green riverbanks with you, and to hidden lakes. I want to see deer and tigers, great elephants, and all there is to see in the wild. Can’t Rama who killed the rakshasas protect his wife? I swear I will never complain as long as you are with me. I will be content to gaze at lotuses on crystal pools and watch swans glide on silver water. Why fourteen, Rama? Let us spend a hundred years in the forest together.”

  But he said, “Sita, this is not the time to try me with frivolous arguments. I know you will miss me, but we are young and time is on our side: fourteen years will pass quickly. You must not make this parting harder than it is for both of us. You must obey me; that is your dharma.

  “You are naive to think that life in the vana is sniffing flowers or watching gentle birds and animals. You don’t know the terror of the jungle. Every waking moment is a nightmare for fear of savage beasts. You dream of green riverbanks; but the rivers are full of crocodiles. There are no paths and deadly serpents slither through the grass. And how will a princess like you sleep on a rough bed of leaves every night? Clad not in silk but tree bark.

  “At times, we may not find water to drink for days; at others, no food for weeks, even roots or fruit. And how, my love, will your tender body bear the ferocity of the seasons? Burning summer, icy winter, and rain that soaks you to the bone.

  “Be reasonable, precious Sita, and my exile will be over sooner than you imagine.”

  Now, for the first time since he knew her, he saw her eyes fill with tears, like lotuses with dew. They spilled over her lids, drop by drop. She made no move to wipe them and he could not bear the sight.

  She said softly, her voice unchanged, “All that will only add excitement to our lives. And I just remembered something. When I was ten, some rishis who read the stars came to my father’s palace. Even then, they told me I would spend many years with my husband in the forest. Rama, if you leave me behind I will take my life: either with poison, or fire, or I will drown myself.

  “You are my world. I will be your wife not just in this life, but the next one, and the one after that, and forever. When even a moment without you is so painful for me, how will I survive a year, then another three and another ten after those?”

  She spoke so calmly and reasonably that Rama was a little frightened by her. Not even his mother or his father, he realized, loved him as Sita did. He rose and clasped her to him, “You were born to come even into the jungle with me. I was only testing you. You are the rarest woman on earth, and I will take you with me wherever I go. That is our destiny: to be together. Let us feed the poor, give alms to our brahmanas, and all our possessions to our servants. Let us go lightly into the jungle.”

  Her face lit up like the sun emerging from behind dark clouds.

  12. Lakshmana

  At the door, Lakshmana heard all this, and he could not stand it. He burst into the room, fell at Rama’s feet, and cried, “I will walk before you both in the jungle! You spoke of Shatrughna and Bharata remaining in Ayodhya, but not of me. Which means I will go with you.”

  He looked pleadingly at his brother, then at Sita. Rama raised him up and said, “Of you I need not speak, because you are part of me. But if you come to the forest, who will protect our mothers from Kaikeyi? Our father is a broken man and she rules his will. Who will look after Urmila, if you come with us?”

  But Lakshmana said, “I don’t doubt Bharata. He will look after our mothers better than his own, and his wife will look after Urmila. And if he does not, Rama, it won’t take me long to come back and kill him.

  “You must take me with you. I will carry your weapons and clear your path before you. I will gather fruit and hunt for you, while Sita and you walk together on mountain slopes. How else will you both eat? Think about it, Rama: you cannot leave her alone every time you go to hunt.”

  Suddenly Rama laughed. He embraced his brother and cried, “You will come with us, Lakshmana. I always meant to take you with me, because I could not live without you either. Go to our Acharya Sudhanva and ask him for our weapons. I thank God, Kaikeyi has not said we must go unarmed into exile. We will take the two bows Varuna gave us, the sets of armor light as sun rays and the magic quivers. Tell our master we need Varuna’s swords, as well. Hurry back, Lakshmana; our time is short.”

  Like a delighted child Lakshmana hugged Rama, and ran to their acharya’s armory. He was back in no time, his arms full of the glittering weapons the Lord of the sea had given them. Lakshmana was excited; gone were the tears and the rage, forgotten the animosity against Kaikeyi and their father.

  His eyes shining, he laid the unearthly weapons at Rama’s feet and cried, “What else, my brother? Our time is short you know.”

  Rama said, “I want to give away all our possessions as alms; for possessions possess one even from afar. Then we can leave in peace. Go and fetch Vasishta’s son Suyagna, and his disciples. Let us take their blessings before we leave.”

  13. Rama and Dasaratha

  They gave away everything they owned to their servants and to some deserving brahmanas. Rama, Lakshmana, and Sita came out into the sun. The princes carried Varuna’s bows and the people were dazzled by those weapons. By now, they had heard of the tragedy that had struck Ayodhya like dark lightning. They cried out Rama’s name in lament. They had filled the streets to watch him ride the elephant to his coronation, his face under the white parasol. Instead they saw him barefoot, going to bid farewell to his father.

  “How can Dasaratha send Rama to the forest?” they cried.

  “And the tender Sita with him?”

  “Let us follow them to the vana.”

  “Let Kaikeyi rule over an empty city.”

  Rama walked silently through that eddying sea of sorrow, unmoved by what they shouted. He kept his eyes turned from their angry faces and passed on to the king’s palace. His head bowed, Sumantra waited at Dasaratha’s gates. But Rama smiled at the old sarathy and said gently, “Sumantra, announce us to the king.”

  Sumantra came in to Dasaratha. “My lord, Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana are here.”

  The king sighed and said in a clear voice now, “Fetch my wives and the others who are close to us by blood and by service. I want to see Rama with all of them one last time.”

  Kausalya came, Sumitra, and Kaikeyi also. Dasaratha nodded to Sumantra, and he showed Rama in, with Sita and Lakshmana. Rama entered, his hands folded. Dasaratha jumped up with a cry and tried to run to his son. But he slumped senseless to the floor. Rama and Lakshmana carried him to his th
rone.

  When the king’s eyes fluttered open, Rama stood before him and said, “Lord of the earth, I have come to take leave of you. Sita and Lakshmana will go with me. Give us your blessing.”

  In wonder, the father stared at his son, who was as calm as ever and no less radiant. He beckoned to Rama to come nearer, and whispered to him, “Kaikeyi has betrayed me. I am bound by my oath to her, but you are not. The people want you for their king. Disobey me today, Rama, and make an old man happy: take the throne that is yours by force!”

  But Rama stopped his father’s lips with his hand. “I cannot break your word. Besides, you must rule Ayodhya for many years still. Nine years and five will pass quickly, and I will come back to your feet and clasp them in my hands.”

  Dasaratha sighed once more. With all the courage he could find he said slowly, “Then go, noble child, and may this deed of yours be a legend through the world forever. You are the jewel of our line, the fulfillment of all the Ikshvakus. Yet I have a small wish you must grant me. Don’t go today; spend one last night with your mother and me, and leave tomorrow.”

  Rama said, “If I stay tonight, tomorrow you will ask me to stay another day. But I have already gone, for my spirit is on its way. Abandon your grief, my lord. Don’t let your great heart be burdened: I will be happy in the forest. Besides, Sita and Lakshmana are going with me; the years will pass swiftly, and swiftly I will come back to you. Now give me your blessing and your leave.”

  Dasaratha embraced Rama and wept. There was no dry eye in his court, save Kaikeyi’s. She stood apart, her face a mask. The king said to Sumantra, “Order my army to go to the forest with Rama. Let chariots be laden with silks, gold, and ornaments for my children. Let Rama’s palace be emptied and all his household go with him into the wilderness. Let our best hunters go with him and the finest cooks.”