Ramayana

India's Immortal Tale of Adventure, Love, and Wisdom

• Publisher: Mandala Publishing
• Year: 2001
• ISBN:
  9781647221317
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Indian Literature
• Index: Literature

The odyssey of Rama, a great king of ancient India—a literary epic of romance, adventure, and philosophy. On the eve of his enthronement, Rama, the beloved prince of Ayodhya, is banished to the forest as a result of a sinister plot. Along with his wife Sita and brother Lakshmana, Rama accepts his destiny and departs as the kingdom mourns his loss. His exile, however, proves to have a deeper meaning as Rama becomes the protector of the forest sages and sparks the fury of Ravana, the seemingly invincible demon who terrorizes humans and gods alike. In a vengeful act, Ravana kidnaps Sita, taking her across the ocean to Lanka. Now Rama, with the help of an army of fantastical creatures, must fight to reclaim his dear bride and his honor. Despite its popularity in Eastern cultures, and though Eastern and Western scholars alike recognize it as a literary masterpiece, the Ramayana is unknown to most in the West. This edition gives English-speaking readers the best opportunity yet to discover and enjoy this ancient classic, revered throughout the ages for its moral and spiritual wisdom.

PART ONE BETRAYED

1 KING DASARATH’S LONGING

King Dasarath paced his palace balcony. His handsome brow was furrowed. In a pensive mood, he surveyed the scene around him. People thronged the inner courtyard below. Feudal kings and princes came with their retinues to pay tribute. From his seventh-story terrace Dasarath could see much of his city, which stretched to the horizon in all directions. Crowds of citizens moved along the well-planned roads, which were interspersed with mango groves and orchards. The broad central highway, built entirely of red stone, ran the full hundred-mile length of the city. Large white mansions lined that road, with many-colored pennants waving in the breeze on their roofs. The road was sprinkled with perfumed water and strewn with flowers. Above the city the king could see the golden airplanes of Apsaras, the consorts of the gods.

Looking out over his capital, Ayodhya, Dasarath was plunged in an ocean of anguish. He entered the palace and walked slowly towards his inner chambers. As he descended the wide marble stairways, he heard his priests chanting sacred Sanskrit texts. The sound of mantras mingled with that of drums and lutes being beautifully played by royal musicians. Even that sound, which normally gave him so much joy, could not placate him.

The king entered his rooms, leaving his personal guards at the door. Declining the food and drinks offered to him by his maidservants, he went over to the large latticed window. He moved aside the silk drapes and continued gazing out at his city. Ayodhya had been constructed by Manu, a son of Surya, the all-powerful sun-god. Manu had been the first of the kings in Dasarath’s line, all of them emperors of the globe. As he thought of his long ancestry, the king only felt more pain. He sighed and turned back into his rooms.

Seeing the anxious king, his three queens tried gently to console him. They sat him on a large golden couch covered with silk pillows and studded with gems. His senior wife, Kaushalya, gently massaged his feet, while Sumitra and Kaikeyi fanned him with snow-white chamara whisks.

The king sat lost in thought. He looked at the exquisite carvings of the gods lining his walls. All his life he had done so much to please those deities. Once he had even gone into battle against the celestial demons on their behalf. Surely they would help him now. Dasarath silently prayed to them.

While the king sat absorbed in his thoughts and prayers, a messenger came telling him that his chief priest Vasishtha was now present in the assembly hall. Dasarath had been waiting for this news. He rose up, and with the gait of a powerful lion went along the wide palace passageways, his large sword swinging at his side and his gold ornaments jangling as he walked.

Near to the hall he was joined by his chief ministers. All of them were heroes who had been tried in battle, and all were learned and wise. The state ran smoothly under their expert administration. There were no citizens without employment and no criminals left unchecked. The ministers were devoted to Dasarath’s service, and as they walked they considered the problem facing the king.

Flanked by his bodyguards and ministers, Dasarath entered his great hall. It vied in splendor with the assembly hall of Indra, the king of the gods. Massive marble pillars rose up to a roof which seemed to reach the sky. Balconies of alabaster and coral, worked with gold filigree, were gradually tiered all around the hall. Along the balconies were gold seats spread with white cushions. Large silk tapestries depicting the pastimes of the gods hung from the walls, which were lined with lapis lazuli and encrusted with jewels. The air was filled with the scent of incense. In the center of the hall sat numerous priests who continuously chanted prayers from the ancient scriptures, invoking the presence of deities. The great megha drum resounded deeply as Dasarath strode towards his seat. Everyone stood and there was a cry of “Victory! All glories to Emperor Dasarath!” The king, appearing like a god, took his seat on a large throne of refined gold bedecked with brilliant celestial gems.

A hush descended on the assembly as Dasarath prepared to speak. Everyone sat in expectation. The citizens knew of the king’s worry; they loved him like a father and shared his anxiety. They were grouped in the hall according to their class. At the front were the brahmins, wearing simple cloth and holding their waterpots and prayer beads. On one side sat the warriors, their powerful bodies clad in silks and gold ornaments, with long swords hanging from their belts. Near to them were the tradespeople in their colorful dress, and behind them were the servants and workers, also beautifully adorned. All social classes were represented in that assembly.

Dasarath looked around the hall, smiling affectionately at everyone. Although the king was preoccupied with his worry, no one could detect in him any negligence or laxity in his duties. Seeing him smiling at them, the people felt reassured that Dasarath would find a solution to his problem. They sat awaiting his speech.

Placing his hand on his golden scepter, the king turned to his chief priest Vasishtha, who sat on a raised seat near the throne. With a powerful voice that boomed around the hall, Dasarath addressed the priest. “I have called this assembly to settle a great worry of mine. As you know, this wide earth has for a long time been held under the sway of victorious kings in my line. O jewel among sages, is that glorious history about to end? What can I do to ensure that our proud lineage will continue?”

Dasarath was perturbed that he had no son. Having ruled as the undisputed emperor of the earth for thousands of years, his retirement was now approaching; but there was no one to succeed him. Somehow, none of his wives had given birth to a son. The king had called for a full assembly to propose an idea he was considering. He needed the approval of the brahmins and he wanted the consent of his people. Dasarath looked anxiously at Vasishtha, who was both his priest and preceptor. “O learned one, you know well the perils that attend a kingdom bereft of a monarch. How can I retire to the forest leaving this world without a protector?”

Vasishtha sat surrounded by many other brahmin sages. His hand rested upon his staff as he listened to Dasarath. The sun shone through the carved lattice windows of the hall, covering the king with golden light. Vasishtha, shining with his own mystic power, appeared like a second sun as he replied to the king. “O emperor, I have no doubt that you will soon be blessed with a powerful son who can succeed you. Not long ago I heard this told by Sanat Kumar, the immortal sage who roams the universe. A divine arrangement is being worked by the gods for your everlasting benefit.”

Vasishtha lived in a hermitage outside the city. He was frequently visited by wandering sages and mystics. Some days previously the famous seer Sanat Kumar, who always appeared like a young boy, had spoken with Vasishtha. He told him that soon four powerful sons would be born to the emperor. These sons would be divine incarnations, appearing to fulfill the purpose of the gods. Vasishtha continued, “The brahmins have all been praying to the Lord for your sake, O monarch. We have seen auspicious signs in the heavens. It is clear that some great plan of the Supreme will be achieved through you.”

The king felt joy to hear his priest’s words. Like his forebears before him, Dasarath had religiously pursued his duties as emperor. Under his benevolent rule, the world enjoyed prosperity and peace. The king desired not only the immediate material enjoyment of his people but their spiritual well-being as well. He kept everyone on the path of piety and truth, leading them towards freedom from the cycle of birth and death. Seeing all the people as his own children, he was concerned that their happiness would continue after his retirement. He spoke again. “I have been considering the performance of a horse sacrifice for the pleasure of the gods and Vishnu. O noble sages, will this be successful? Can I satisfy the Lord in this way and thereby attain my desired end?”

Dasarath knew that nothing could be achieved unless Vishnu, the Supreme Lord, was pleased. Although they controlled the universe, the other gods were but Vishnu’s agents. Many times in the past the king’s ancestors had performed great sacrifices for satisfying the Lord and achieving their purposes. The king now considered this to be his only means of deliverance. He looked hopefully at Vasishtha, who had been speaking with the other sages at his side. Turning towards the king Vasishtha said, “We are in agreement, O tiger among men. Let the sacrifice proceed! We shall immediately prepare a ground on the banks of the Sarayu. You will certainly get a son by this method.”

The assembly erupted with joyful shouts. Everywhere were cries of “Let it be so! Let the sacrifice proceed!”

The king, his eyes grown wide with delight as he anticipated the fulfillment of his desire, said to Vasishtha, “Let the preparations begin today. Protected by four hundred of my best warriors, the sacrificial horse will roam the globe before returning for the sacrifice.”

After Dasarath had issued all necessary instructions the assembly was dismissed and the king retired to his inner chambers. Together with his wives, he worshipped Vishnu and the gods, praying that his sacrifice would succeed.

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The whole city of Ayodhya was filled with excitement as the news of the king’s sacrifice spread. In the large public squares minstrels sang songs recounting the exploits of heroes in Dasarath’s line, while troupes of female dancers depicted the tales with precise and beautiful gestures. The temples became crowded with joyful people praying for the success of Dasarath’s sacrifice. From the balconies of houses lining the wide avenues, wealthy people threw down gems for the brahmins and the jewels sparkled brightly on the clean, paved roads. The city resonated with the sound of lutes, trumpets and kettledrums. Augmenting the music was the chanting of brahmins reciting the holy scriptures. With flags and pennants flying, festoons hanging between the houses and flowers strewn everywhere, Ayodhya had the appearance of a festival held by the gods in heaven.

The priests of Ayodhya set about preparing for the sacrifice. Selecting and consecrating a purebred horse which was free from any blemish, they released it to range freely across the country. As it traveled, it was followed and protected by four hundred powerful generals from the king’s army. According to the ritual, wherever the horse went, the residing rulers were called upon to attend the sacrifice and pay homage to Dasarath. Anyone refusing would be immediately challenged to a fight. If they were not subjugated, then the sacrifice could not proceed. None, however, wished the emperor any ill. The horse came back to Ayodhya without incident at the end of one year.

Seeing the horse returned, Dasarath called Vasishtha. He touched his guru’s feet and asked him with all humility, “O holy one, if you deem it fit, please now commence the sacrifice. You are my dearest friend as well as my guru. Indeed, you are a highly exalted soul. Fully depending on you, I am confident of the sacrifice’s outcome.”

After assuring the king, Vasishtha spoke with the priests, instructing them to have the sacrificial arena built. Chief among them was Rishwashringa, a powerful brahmin who had come from the kingdom of Anga. It had long ago been prophesied that Rishwashringa would help Dasarath obtain progeny. Along with Vasishta, he took charge of the arrangements for the sacrifice.

Vasishta ordered that many white marble palaces be constructed for the monarchs who would attend. The very best food and drink was made available, and actors and dancers came to entertain the guests. Horse stables, elephant stalls and vast dormitories to accomodate thousands of people were built. Vasishtha instructed the king’s ministers, “Everyone should have whatever they desire. Take care that no one is disrespected at any time, even under the impulse of passion or anger.”

Vasishtha spoke to the king’s charioteer and minister, Sumantra, who was especially close to Dasarath. “We have invited kings from all over the globe. On behalf of the emperor you should personally ensure that they are all properly received. Take particular care of the celebrated king Janaka, the heroic and truthful ruler of Mithila. With my inner vision I can see that he will in the future become intimately related to our house.”

Soon many kings came to Ayodhya bearing valuable gifts of jewels, pearls, clothing and golden ornaments. Upon their arrival they in turn were offered gifts at Vasishtha’s command, who had instructed his assistants, “Give freely to all. No gift should ever be made with disrespect or irreverence, for such begrudging gifts will doubtlessly bring ruin to the giver.”

The royal astrologers ascertained the most favorable day for the commencement of the sacrifice. Dasarath, headed by Vasishtha and Rishwashringa, and accompanied by his three wives, then came to the sacrificial compound, which resembled an assembly of the gods. Many fires blazed, each dedicated to a different deity and attended by numerous brahmins. The great compound was crowded with sages absorbed in prayer and meditation. On all sides stood warriors equipped with every kind of weapon, fully alert to any danger. The king sat surrounded by brahmins, who consecrated him for the sacrifice. He and his wives made offerings into the fires and joined in the chanting of prayers.

After some days the horse was brought before the sacrificial fire dedicated to Vishnu. Learned priests constantly poured into it oblations of clarified butter along with handfuls of grains. Taking the horse by its reins, Vasishta uttered a powerful mantra and the animal fell unconscious. It was immediately placed upon the fire. As the horse was consumed by the blazing fire, those with divine vision saw the soul of the creature rise from the fire, glowing brilliantly, and ascend towards heaven.

As the sacrifice concluded, Dasarath was delighted. He said to the priests, “According to the ordinance it is fitting that I now bestow upon you proper charity. Therefore, O holy ones, take this entire earth as a gift. This is the only appropriate offering for great souls like yourselves.”

The priests replied, “You alone are able to protect this earth with its countless people. As ascetics we having nothing to do with the world, nor are we able to maintain it; therefore we leave it with you, O monarch.”

The brahmins had no interest in wealth but wished only to live simply, unencumbered by material possessions. However, Dasarath understood that unless charity were given to the priests the sacrifice was not complete. Falling at the brahmins’ feet, he implored, “If you refuse my gift, then the success of my endeavor is most uncertain.”

The priests quickly raised up the king. They understood the scriptural injunction to which the king alluded. “If it so pleases you, then you may give to us a little wealth. We have no use for the earth.”

The king distributed to the brahmins hundreds of millions of gold and silver coins, as well as millions of milk-bearing cows. He supplied tens of thousands of brahmins present at that sacrifice with enough wealth to last their entire lives.

Vasishtha and Rishwashringa then arranged for one final ritual to be performed. They called the gods by name to come and accept the sacrificial offerings made to them. The celestial smoke from the offerings, sanctified by Vedic mantras, rose upwards to the skies and was received by the gods. With the universal creator Brahma at their head, they personally assembled in sky above Dasarath’s sacrificial compound. Unseen by everyone, the gods began to address Brahma:

“Because of a boon granted by you, O lord, the king of the Rakshasas Ravana is constantly harassing us and is extremely difficult to overpower. Having begged from you that he be made invincible to us as well as to practically all other created beings, that evil-minded one now seeks to overthrow us. He profanes even great saints and has no regard for anyone at all.” Brahma, was concerned that his boon to Ravana had created such problems, listened as Indra, on behalf of the gods, continued: “Ravana sought invincibility but did not ask for immunity against humans, whom he considered of no consequence. Thus his death must come at the hands of a human. Please, therefore, beseech the Lord to appear as Dasarath’s son.”

Although Ravana could still be killed by a human, the gods knew that no ordinary man could slay him. It could only be done by the all-powerful Vishnu himself, if he came to the earth as a man. And here was the ideal opportunity. The emperor of the earth was praying to Vishnu for a powerful son. Surely the Lord would consent to appear in Dasarath’s family, especially if Brahma, Vishnu’s devoted servant, also prayed to him to appear.

Brahma assented to the gods’ request. He knew that the time for the Lord’s appearance had come. Seated in meditation, Brahma thought of the Lord within his heart. At that moment Vishnu appeared in the sky. Only the gods saw him as he descended upon the back of his eagle carrier, Garuda. His beautiful body was blackish and he shone with a brilliant luster. He was dressed in yellow silk with a garland of blue lotuses. A necklace of bright celestial gems hung around his neck. Adorned with numerous gold ornaments and jewels, he held in his four hands a conch shell, a mace, a discus weapon and a lotus flower. Gracefully descending, he sat amid the gods as they worshipped him with hymns and prayers.

Brahma addressed Vishnu in a reverential tone. “O Lord, here is the worthy Dasarath praying for a son. All the worlds are sorely afflicted by the evil Rakshasa Ravana, who must be slain by a man. Be pleased, therefore, to take birth as Dasarath’s son. Appearing in a human form, please dispatch Ravana in an encounter and save the worlds from their suffering.”

Vishnu smiled at the gods. He spoke reassuringly in a voice deep like the rumbling of thunderclouds. “O gods, give up all fear. Along with my own expansions I shall soon be born as four sons of Dasarath. I myself shall appear as his eldest son, and my personal weapons will incarnate as my brothers. After annihilating Ravana and his demon hordes, I will remain on the mortal plane, ruling the globe for eleven thousand years.”

The inconceivable Vishnu then disappeared even as he was being worshipped. The gods felt their purpose was acco...