Day 24, Ayodhyākāṇḍa Chapters LXVI – LXXII Body preservation, Summoning of Bharata, His arrival

This is our twenty fourth session; the date is August 24, 2014. It is the last week of summer. Most people are on vacation travel. Surendrabhai Vaidya, Bhavani Vankineni, Janmejay Shishupal and Prem Nagar joined.

While translating, I am noticing the different syntax in Sanskrit, further modified in poetic composition. A complex Sanskrit sentence needs be decomposed to multiple sentences to be readable. I have not thought through if our brain works with long phrases. An action has to be contextually set up for writing. In Sanskrit the context is a pre-requisite before the verb is applied. In English we can use the context after the verb or in separate sentences. I do not have the linguistic insight to understand the process. Hopefully I will learn more through more observations.

Vālmīki’s description is detailed. He seems to know the geography of India making the story life-like. One also sees the song-like reinforcements to enhance a point. There is scope for improvisation in rendering the stanzas as a public performance which was perhaps a style.

We began our session at 3:10 PM.

Chapter LXVI Daśaratha’s body kept in an oil-bath, palace grief

The king’s body looked like an extinguished log of wood. It looked like an ocean without water, a sun without its shine. His soul had departed and the body was lying around. Kauśalyā was in shock and grief; her eyes were filled in tears. She clasped the king’s head in her arm tightly. She muttered to Kaikeyī : “Get fulfilled, O’ Kaikeyī! You cruel woman of evil conduct! Having done with the King, you can now relish the Kingdom without a problem! Rāma has left me, now my husband has passed away. I am confused, I have lost purpose in life; I have no desire to live! Which woman other than Kaikeyī would get rid of her god-like husband and would continue to live? Kaikeyī has lost all sense of nobility. A greedy person does not realize the mistake while eating an unknown food! Instigated by her maid Kaikeyī has destroyed the clan of the Raghus! Hearing that Rāma has been exiled with his wife through bad counsel, King Janaka must be perturbed as I am. That pious Rāma of lotus eyes, who has disappeared from this place though alive, would not know that I have become a widow today. The daughter of the King of Videha, who is undeserving of suffering and is rightfully engaged in her duties in life, must be feeling greatly afflicted in the forest. Scared and disturbed with the roars of the beasts in the forest she must be clinging to Rāma for support. The old father Janaka who does not have other children would surely lose his life just remembering his daughter. Devoted to my husband as I am, I would meet my end today. I shall enter the funeral pyre with my husband’s body in my arms!”

The Ministers and the attendants restrained Kauśalyā and respectfully removed her from clasping the body. They immersed the King’s body in an oil bath and performed various rituals as prescribed by the scriptures. Since they needed a son to cremate the body, they preserved the body temporarily. When the King was laid in the oil bath, the ladies in the palace convinced themselves about the death. They wailed “Ah! The King is dead!” Raising their hands in desperation with tears rolling down from the eyes the grief-stricken women were crying ruefully: “O’ King, why do you leave us? We are already missing our Rāma, who always spoke kindly to us. Rāma left us and now we are widows. How shall we operate with our co-wife, the crooked-natured Kaikeyī? Rāma was our protector; he treated us as his own. He has gone away to the forest leaving behind the wealth and the kingdom. Afflicted in misery and mistreated by Kaikeyī , how shall we operate without you and without that valiant Rāma? After having gotten rid of the King and having exiled Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā, whom else would Kaikeyī not go after?”

The wives in the palace were crying hard. Bereft of the King, the city of Ayodhyā looked dull as a night would look without the stars. The city looked like a woman without her husband. With men in tears, women crying in distress and with emptied meeting places, the city had no charm. Night fell on the city, darkness spread through. The assembled friends and relatives of the King did not think it was appropriate that the King be cremated without a son. They lay him in the oil-bath thinking of his incomprehensible condition. His face looked like the sky without the sun, it was like the night without the stars. The bustling city appeared choked and lusterless. Men and women were cursing Bharata’s mother. They were restless being deeply afflicted with the King’s demise.

Chapter LXVI ends in 29 stanzas

Chapter LXVII Counsellors request Vasiṣṭha to install a King
The night of wailing, grieving and tearful eyes came to an end. As the sun rose, the Brāhmins and the administrators assembled in the court. Facing the chief priest Vasiṣṭha, eminent Brāhmins like Mārkeṇḍeya, Maudgalya, Vāmadeva, Kaśyapa, Kātyāyana, Gautama and Jābāli spoke their opinions independently. They said: “The king passed away because of grief of separation from his son. This night was painful like a hundred years of grief. The King has parted for the heavens and Rāma is exiled to the forest. Lakṣmaṇa has left with Rāma. Bharata and S’atrughna are capable, but they are in their grandfather’s home. Someone from the clan of Ikṣvāku should be installed as the King today. Without a King the kingdom is prone to destruction.”

Variously they quoted the scriptures to show the importance of a king in a kingdom: “The cloud though may thunder but would not bring rains in a land without a King! In a king-less land, the grains do not respond when scattered on the ground. In such a land, the son or the wife does not listen to the father or the husband. In a king-less land one cannot keep wealth, or can expect loyalty from one’s wife. How do you find order in a land without a king? In such a land people do not assemble in meetings, nor do they construct flower gardens or elegant buildings. The self-restrained Brāhmins carrying vows of austerities do not perform sacrificial rituals in such a country. Brāhmins though wealthy and hosting large sacrificial events do not part with remuneration to the priests. The dancers are not happy and they do not participate in the festival events designed to promote the welfare of the State. In a king-less State, the litigating parties amuse themselves with the stories from agreeable friends; they do not care for the truth. No girl wearing gold jewelry visits public gardens in such a land. The wealthy and higher class professionals remain scared and do not keep their doors open. In a king-less land, the romantic lovers do not drive out to the forests with their consorts, nor do aged elephants with tusks roam the streets with bells hanging from their necks. In such a land, one does not hear the sound of plucking bow strings by the warrior practitioners, nor traveling traders show up with carts laden with goods. In a king-less land, strongly-vowed mystics do not move around choosing resting places as night falls. In such a land, there is no prosperity; the foes are not vanquished by the army. Nobody travels in such a land wearing ornaments in carts driven by elegant horses. The scholars in such a land are not seen holding debates in parks and gardens. Worshippers in such a land do not go out to fetch flowers, sweets and gifts for the service. Princes smeared with sandalwood paste and aloe, are rare in such a land like big branches of trees are rare in spring.”

“A king-less land is like a river without water; it is a forest without grass; it is like a cow without a keeper. A flag is the signature of a chariot and the smoke indicates the presence of fire. The King who brought us the flag of prominence has passed away. In a king-less land there is no respect for personal property; people devour each other as fish do. In such a land, people who are atheists, disrespectful of the scriptures, and people who were punished by the king for their crimes can take authority to exercise rule on others. Like the eyes look over the body all the time, the king is the source of truth and righteousness in the kingdom! The king represents truth and nobility; he is the best among the well-bred. The king is the father and the mother; the king is indeed the benefactor to all. A king of good conduct excels the stalwarts like Yama, Kubera, Indra and Varuṇa. If there is no king to discriminate between good and evil, this world would be reduced to darkness; nothing would be perceptible!”

Then they said: “While the King was alive, we never crossed your words like the ocean gets contained at the coast. O’ noble Brāhmaṇa! Considering our appeal and noticing that the kingdom may degrade to ruins, please install a prince from the clan of Ikṣvāku or another responsible person of your choice!”

Chapter LXVII ends in 38 stanzas.

Chapter LXVIII Vasiṣṭha’s orders, Messengers’ travel to Kaikeya

Hearing from the court counsels, Vasiṣṭha responded: “Bharata along with his brother S’atrughna is happily visiting his maternal uncle’s house. Let the messengers go in haste to call the brothers back. What else can we do?” Everyone concurred to Vasiṣṭha’s decision. Vasiṣṭha then summoned the messengers and ordered: “O’ Siddhārtha, Vijaya, Jayanta and Nandana! Please listen carefully. Here are the tasks. Please reach the city of Rājagṛha quickly. After resting, you should convey to Bharata the following orders from me. “The family priest and the counsellors have sent message that all is well. Please return quickly since there is some urgent task waiting for you.’” Vasiṣṭha continued: “Please do not tell him regarding the loss in the clan of the Raghus like Rāma is exiled, or the King is dead.” Then he concluded: “Please carry silk clothes and ornaments for the King of Kaikeya and Bharata, and depart!”

The messengers were paid for provisions on the road. They left for their houses to get ready for the travel. Finishing up the last-minute preparations the messengers left in the journey. They proceeded on the banks of Mālinī river flowing between the southern end of the Aparatala mountain range and the northern boundary of Pralamba mountain range. They crossed Gaṁgā at Hastināpura and proceeded westward reaching the kingdom of Pāñcāla in the area of Kurujāṅgala. They saw lakes with flowers and rivers with clear water. They did not stop but moved quickly. They reached the charming river Saradaṇḍā that had clear waters and a bird sanctuary. They crossed the river and encountered the holy tree called Satyopayācana on the other side. They circumambulated the tree praying good luck and entered the city of Kuliṅgā. They passed by the village of Tejobhibhavana and reached the next village Abhikāla. They crossed the river Ikṣumatī which has story connected with the paternal lineage of the King. They encountered highly skilled Vedic Brāhmaṇas known to drink water using their palms. Passing through the Bāhlīka kingdom they reached the Sudāma mountain range. They saw the footprints of Lord Viṣṇu preserved on those mountains and passed Vipāśā and S’ālmalī rivers. There were many wells, ponds, pools and lakes. They saw lions, tigers, deer and elephants. Eventually they reached a wide road and proceeded fast to accomplish the task. Though the horses were exhausted, they reached the majestic town of Girivraja through a winding but safe route. For the sake of their master and for the sake of protecting the clan and its honor, the messengers entered that city dutifully in the night itself.

Chapter LXVIII ends in 22 stanzas.

Chapter LXIX Bharata’s bad-omen dream

During the same night the messengers entered the city, Bharata was having a bad dream. He dreamt in the early morning hours and was disturbed. His friends noticed his pensiveness. They thought up ways among them to lighten up his mind. Some played instruments, some danced and some others tried to mimic comedic acts. Bharata however was not attracted to these fun exercises. A friend approached him in the assembly and spoke out: “O’ friend, why are not you feeling good among your friends?” Bharata replied: “Let me tell you what has happened. I had a bad dream. I saw my father dull and dejected with his hair dishevelled. He was falling down from a mountain peak to a pool of cow-dung. I saw him swimming through that pool drinking oil from his palms. He was laughing hysterically. Then he ate some rice cooked with sesame seeds. Smeared with oil all over and head-down he plunged into the oil over and over. In the dream I saw the ocean dried up, the moon sunk to the earth and the sky covered with darkness. Everything was blocked around. The earth had dried up with withered out trees. Mountains were destroyed and there was heavy smoke. I saw the tusk of the royal elephant broken into pieces. Then the blazing fires suddenly extinguished. I saw dark and ugly women beating up the King who was seated on an iron chair clad in dark clothes. I saw the noble king with a crimson garland on his neck and red sandalwood paste on his body proceeding south on a chariot pulled by the donkeys. I saw an ugly ogress clad in crimson mocking the King and dragging him away!”

“I think either I, or Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa or the King could die soon. I saw a column of smoke from the funeral pyre of the man going in the chariot. Because of this, I feel depressed and I do not relate to your activities. My throat feels parched and my mind is uneasy. I cannot see the location, but I see the fear. My voice is hoarse and I feel depressed. I hate myself without reason. By seeing these bad dreams and the uncalled-for implications, I feel scared. I think deeply about the King. The scary thoughts do not go away!”

Chapter LXIX ends in 21 stanzas.

Chapter LXX Messengers from Ayodhya, Bharata’s Departure

While Bharata was narrating his dream to his friends, the messengers from Ayodhyā crossed the moat around and arrived at the King’s palace with their tired horses. They were received by the King and the Prince. After paying respects to the King, they spoke to Bharata. “The Priest Vasiṣṭha and the counsellors have sent message. All is well. They want you to leave quickly; you are urgently needed. Please offer these precious garments and ornaments to your uncle. These materials worth twenty crores are for the King. There is another bundle worth ten crores is for the uncle.” Bharata, who was fond of his friends and relatives, accepted the gifts. He offered hospitality to the messengers. He spoke to them: “Is my father the celebrated King Daśaratha well? Are the noble souls Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa keeping good health? Is Rama’s mother, the right-knowing, the right-speaking, always-right in conduct, holy Kauśalyā keeping herself well? Is my middle mother, the mother of Lakṣmaṇa and heroic S’atrughna, doing well? And how is my mother, the self-proclaimed wise, always seeking out an advantage, violent and wrathful doing? Is she in good health? Did she send a message?”

Thus asked by Bharata, the messengers replied: “All are doing well about whom you asked. The Goddess S’rī has bestowed her grace on you with a lotus in hand.” Bharata said “I would seek the permission of the King saying the messengers are rushing me.” Then he proceeded to tell his grandfather: “I have been informed by the messengers to leave in order to visit my father. I will return back again whenever you would remember me!” The grandfather hugged him, smelt his head and blessed him: “Yes, my child, go to your place. You, the noble son of Kaikeyī, do convey to your parents that all is well here. Do convey our greetings to Priest Vasiṣṭha, to all the eminent Brāhmins in the court and to the two brothers Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, who wield the mighty bows.” The King of Kaikeya gifted Bharata with elephants, beautiful colored blankets, gold and a few specially-bred attack dogs that were of enormous size and strength. The gift contained two thousand gold coins and sixteen hundred horses. King Aśvapati ordered esteemed and trustworthy ministers to escort Bharata. Bharata’s uncle added to the gift special airāvata breed of Indraśira elephants and several well-trained fast mules. In his rush to depart, Bharata however was not in mood to receive the gifts at that point. He was getting anxious because of his dream in the previous night and the hastening by the messengers. Profusely endowed with the gifts, Bharata returned to his palace. Then he prepared his journey. The roads were already covered with the massive assembly of the horses and elephants. He passed through them. He directly went to the inner quarters without asking anyone. He bade farewell to his grandfather and his uncle Yudhājit and left with S’atrughna riding the chariot. Fixing another hundred wheeled chariots fitted with camels, horses and mules, the servants of the King followed Bharata.

Protected by escorts sent by the King, the noble Bharata left his residence accompanied by S’atrughna. It looked like a Siddha leaving the domain of Indra in the sky!

Chapter LXX ends in 30 stanzas.

Chapter LXXI Bharata reaches Ayodhya, desolate city

Proceeding to the east from Rājagṛha, the heroic Bharata crossed the river Sudāma. He surveyed the scenery as he moved. He proceeded forward and crossed the broad river Hrādinī and then the westward flowing S’atadru. He crossed another river at the village Ailadhāna and reached the mountain range called Aparaparvata. Then he crossed a river which petrified objects and reached the volcanic area of S’alyakarṣaṇa. The curious Bharata observed the scene with interest. Then he viewed the waters of the river S’ilāvahā. He crossed the Mahāśaila mountain range and entered the forest of Chaitraratha. Reaching the confluence of the rivers Sarasvatī and Gaṅgā, he passed through the northern part of the Vīramatsya territory and entered the Bhāruṇḍa forest. He crossed the swift river Kuliṅgā surrounded by the mountains. He reached the river Yamunā and crossed it. He let his contingent rest there. Bathing their horses and refreshing them with food and water, he proceeded forward. Enjoying the sights through the extended forests, he sped forward in his well-made chariot like wind moving in sky. He reached the massive Bhāgirathī (Gaṅgā) River near the village Aṁśudhāna and approached the well- known point of Prāgvaṭa in order to cross the river.

Crossing the Gaṅgā at Prāgvaṭa he proceeded further. He reached the river Kuṭikoṣṭhika and crossed it. He arrived at the village Dharmavardhana. He passed by the southern section of the village Toraṇa and reached the area of Jambūprastha. Then he proceeded towards the beautiful village Varūtha and halted for the night in the lovely forest there. Proceeding east, he reached the garden town of Ujjihānā and saw the saffron forest there. Taking on faster horses, Bharata proceeded quickly asking the party to follow in slower pace. He rested the night at the village Sarvatīrtha and then proceeded crossing the river Uttānikā. He used various mountain ponies to cross many other streams and reached the village Hastipṛṣṭhaka. He crossed the river Kuṭikā and then crossed another river Kapivatī near the village Lohitya. He continued to village Ekasāla and crossed the river Sthāṇumatī. Proceeding further he crossed the river Gomatī near the village Vinatā and then he reached the sāla forests of Kalinganagara. He dashed through the forest in the night. Early in the morning, he saw the city of Ayodhyā, established by Manu. By this time he had spent seven nights on the road!

Looking at Ayodhyā, he expressed his distress to the charioteer: “This does not look to me as the glorious town of gardens and life. The town that is nurtured by my father and populated by learned Brāhmins engaged in sacrificial oblations and wealthy citizens looks certainly dull from the distance. I do not hear the familiar roar of the assembly of men and women in the morning. The gardens normally used by people in the evening and lingered through the night look different to me. They appear abandoned by the sporting people. O’ Charioteer, the city appears more like a forest. The prominent people in the city are not moving around in conveyances or on elephants and horses. The lively gardens used by people for romantic outings look dull and cheerless. Scattered leaves on the road appear as though the trees are crying. The sweet inviting callings of animals and birds are not heard. How is that the pure morning air scented with the burned sandalwood and aloe not blowing as before? How has the sound of the bherī, mṛdaṅga and vīṇā music played with drums ceased to be heard today? I perceive many inauspicious, unwelcome and unpleasant signs. They bother me. While one does not expect the welfare of one’s family all the time, my heart is sinking in fear. I am perturbed by my imaginary apprehension.

Weary, depressed and anxious Bharata entered the palace of the Ikṣvākus. He entered with his tired horses through the western Vaijayanta gate. The guards immediately hailed his entry and escorted him inside. Sending the guards back, the troubled Bharata spoke to his fatigued charioteer: “Why am I brought in here without a cause? I am apprehending misfortune. I am losing myself. O’ Charioteer, I am seeing all indication of passing away of kings as I have read before. I see unkempt dirt-ridden houses and disorderly doors. I see the town lifeless. No rituals or sacrifices appear to have been performed. There is no odor of incense. The families have no food. People appear spiritless, houses look deprived. The temples have no flowers, their courtyards are not cleaned. There are no priests; nobody is seen in the sacrificial halls. The flower market and the goods stores are not busy. The merchants do not appear cheerful as before. They seem distracted, their business has suffered. The animals and birds in the temples and assembly places are uncared for. I see men and women in the city dull. There is misery, worry and sorrow. I see tears in their eyes!”

Having spoken thus to the charioteer and having witnessed those unwelcome signs, the troubled Bharata went to the royal palace. He was filled with sorrow to see the empty city with soiled doors and streets. A city that once shone like Indra’s palace in the heavens appeared to be in the tatters. Seeing the distasteful scenes as never seen before, the noble Bharata was unhappy and was utterly depressed. He entered his father’s residence stunned. He walked with his head down.

Chapter LXXI ends in 46 stanzas.

Chapter LXXII Bharata learns of King Daśaratha’s death

Not seeing his father in his quarters, Bharata proceeded to meet his mother at her palace. Kaikeyī was delighted to see her son after a long absence. She sprang forward from her golden couch in order to greet him. While entering Bharata did notice that his mother’s apartment also looked cheerless. He went forward and clasped his mother’s auspicious feet. Kaikeyī hugged her brilliant son and smelled his head. Putting him on her lap, she lovingly asked him about his journey: “How many nights were you on the road? Are you not tired traveling so fast in your chariot? Are the grandfather and the uncle Yudhājit keeping good health? Has everything been well with you since you left home? Please tell me all!”

Having questioned thus by his mother, the handsome prince narrated everything about him: “Seven nights have passed since I left the grandfather’s house. The grandfather and uncle Yudhājit are indeed in good health. The animals carrying the gold and the jewels given by the king were tired in travel on the way, so I came away early. The king’s messengers who conveyed the royal message had rushed me. So I came away in advance. Mother, I want to ask you a question that you can answer. The gold-plated bed here is empty. The attendants around do not appear happy. The king normally stays in your room; I came here expecting to see him. Please tell me where he is; I want to pay my respects at his feet. Could he be in the eldest mother Kauśalyā’s residence?” Kaikeyī narrated to him the most unpleasant story to make it sound friendly. Infatuated with the greed to occupy the kingdom, she revealed everything to her unknowing son. “Your father has followed the path that is inevitable to all beings. The virtuous king Daśaratha who was given to sacrificial rituals in his life has taken the path that all beings must follow!” Hearing those words, the righteous and clean-minded Bharata was devastated. He burst out “I am finished!” Immersed in grief and feeling terrible with the news of this father’s death, the glorious Bharata was confused and troubled. He felt miserable and pitiful. With his arms spread out, the strong Bharata lumped flat on the ground. He wept uncontrolled “This couch of my father looked most gorgeous as the moon shining in a clear autumn sky! It has no charm today being devoid of that moon! It looks like the sea where the water is dried up.” Choking up in grief, he covered his face with a piece of cloth. He wailed wildly.

Kaikeyī saw her handsome god-like son with the build of an elephant falling wretched on the ground. It was like a sāla tree felled in the forest cut by an axe. Lifting him up, she said: “Do get up, O’ King! Rise up, you glorious! Why are you lying on the ground? Good, honorable and determined people like you must not grieve! Following right conduct prescribed by the Vedas and practicing austerities, tempered by charity and sacrificial rituals your intellect is developed as the radiance of the sun right emanating from its surface!” Bharata went on wailing for a long time and went on rolling on the floor. In utter grief, he spoke to his mother “Having felt that the King would install Rāma to the throne or possibly was preparing to perform a sacrifice, I was happy to undertake the journey. Such thinking of mine has proved to be incorrect. My mind is torn that I do not see my benevolent father who always did good deeds for me. Mother! Through what disease the King die in my absence? Rāma and others are lucky that they could do the last rites for the father. It is a pity that the illustrious King would not know of my arrival; otherwise he would quickly hug me and affectionately smell my head. Where are those comforting hands by which he would rub out my soiled body over and over again? Please inform my arrival to Rāma, my brother and friend. Unwearied in action as he is, he is like my father. I am his agreeable servant! For a man who knows what is right, the eldest brother is indeed like the father. I shall fall on his feet, he is my support now! I wish to hear what blessed message my noble righteous father has left for us.”

Kaikeyī responded narrating the events as had happened. “The King murmured “Hā Rāma!”, “Hā Sītā”, “Hā Lakṣmaṇa!” Then the best among the brightest men departed to the other world. As though an elephant caught in a noose, your father was beaten up in time and duty. He spoke these parting words: “Those people would only feel fortunate who would witness the return of Rāma to Ayodhyā accompanied by dear Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā.”” Hearing these further unpleasant words, Bharata was extremely unhappy. Anxious, he asked his mother “Where is Rāma right now? Where is he coming from accompanied by Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā?” Asked thus, Kaikeyī duly narrated the events. She tried to present the unpleasant news to make it sound acceptable. “My son, clad in tree bark the prince has left for the Daṇḍaka forest. He was accompanied by Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa.” Hearing this, Bharata got puzzled apprehending misconduct on the part of his brother. Because of the dignity of his family, he continued to ask “Did he steal the property of any Brāhmin? Did he kill any rich or poor man who was innocent? Did he fall for another person’s wife? Why is my brother Rāma exiled to Daṇḍakāraṇya? ”

Frivolous Kaikeyī blurted out all details as women do with candor and affection. She was thinking herself to be smart. “No, Rāma did not steal any Brāhmin’s property or anyone else’s. He did not kill any innocent man whether rich or poor. Rāma has never lifted his eyes on another person’s wife. After hearing about the installation of Rāma, I asked your father for the exile of Rāma. Out of his own nature, your father did accordingly. Rāma with Lakṣmaṇa accompanied by Sītā was sent away to the forest. The illustrious King missed his son dearly and passed away. O’ Noble son, please accept the throne now. I have done all this only for you! Please do not get into grief or remorse. Please be bold. This beautiful land is now under your control. O’ son, please do the last rites with the help of the Brāhmins like Vasiṣṭha and others. After completing the rituals respectfully, do install you on the throne of this vast kingdom!”

Chapter LXXII ends in 54 stanzas.

 

Day 23, Ayodhyākāṇḍa Chapters LXIII – LXV, Daśaratha’s Youthful Adventure, Curse, His Death

This is our twenty third session; the date is August 10, 2014. In the immigrant community, we have less time for analytic literature reading. Very few have the familiarity with Sanskrit. It is my aim to read the entire text. The process needs a better organization than just meeting optionally, but we carry on. We realize that no literary organization might have existed while Valmiki would be composing. Poets are not remembered while they are alive! Surendrabhai Vaidya, Prem Nagar and Ravi Teja showed up. We assembled in the classroom.

The sections describe the final night Daśaratha is alive. He recalls the incident that happened when he was young. He had killed a young hermit boy by mistake. He was cursed by the deceased boy’s father stating that pain would come to him with the separation of his own son at old age. Daśaratha rationalizes that Rama’s exile to the forest was a part in actualizing the curse. As a mother Kaushalya is too much stressed for Daśaratha’s story. She listens to Daśaratha and sleeps. The King dies in his sleep. This is Vālmīki ’s way to create a lonely end to a King who was known as a good ruler.

I have to make a few comments on translating Sanskrit. Since Sanskrit creates inflection for case endings, the syntax for the sentence is very different than what we see in English. The phrases in Sanskrit text are arranged in the order of occurrence and not guided by convenience. The early translators were more hooked to literary translations and tried word per word translation. Most of the phrases used by Vālmīki have cultural and colloquial root, they lose meaning when translated as independent words. I try various ways to capture the cultural slant. Because of a feedback, I am giving short content titles to the chapters.

We began our session at 3:10 PM.

Chapter LXIII
Daśaratha’s youthful adventure and the death of the young hermit

Daśaratha was deeply struck in grief and had lost his consciousness. He woke up after a long while. The noble King who was like the Indra in the heavens was continuously thinking about the exile of Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, and was in dreadful torment. His face looked as though the sun was eclipsed by the demons. On the sixth day of Rāma’s departure, the King remembered a misdeed he didd in his youth. He narrated the event to Kauśalyā. The deeply aggrieved father was trying to console the mother who was agonizing with the separation of her son. “My dear, whatever we sow, so we reap. One gets the results of one’s doing, good or bad. One who does not weigh the pros and cons while initiating a task is really a fool. A person cutting down a mango grove to replace with palāśa trees would surely repent when the flowers show up and no fruits! If one worked without thinking of the outcome would be stuck with no results as nourishing a good looking kiṁśuka tree! Thus I have cut down a mango grove and am taking care of the palāśa trees. What a fool I am that I have exiled Rāma to the forest while he was ready and productive! O’ Kauśalyā, my misdeed was due to a skill I had achieved in my youth that I could hit any target with sound by using my arrow that could follow the sound! After getting this skill, I have inflicted the pain on myself like a kid might take poison by simply being attracted to it! Just like another person might feel enamored with the palāśa trees, I was unaware of the disaster my skill could cause to me!”

“Dear Devī, this was before my marriage, I was only a prince. My passion to sport aroused as the monsoons set in! The land had dried out with the scorching sun. The sun was changing course causing fear in people. Suddenly the clouds burst forth, there were rains; the heat disappeared! The frogs, the deer and the peacocks fluttered. Birds with drenched wings hardly could climb up the rain swept trees. Rains continuously falling everywhere, the mountains were flooded like oceans. Streams with clear waters flowed in zigzag paths assuming various colors as they carried mineral ashes on their way. At that pleasant night, I started up with my bow and arrow to the River Sarayū. I was determined to make some sport by hunting a water buffalo, or a similar animal that might descend to drink from the river. In that darkness, I heard the sound of a pitcher being filled with water which I mistook as elephant drinking water unable to see from my position. Extracting a glowing arrow which looked like a snake in its deadliness, I discharged it in the direction of sound assuming to gain an elephant as prize. From the direction that I discharged the arrow returned the “ha, ha,” wail of a forest dweller who was hit in his heart by the weapon. Sunk to the ground the man cried out: ‘How come an ascetic like me is hit by an arrow? I came in the night to draw some water in this desolate river! Who did hit me? Whom did I harm? I am a hermit who has renounced violence. I live in the forest living only on the forest produce! How is it justified to use a weapon against a person of matted hair, clad in bark and deer skin? What interest he might have to kill me? What did I do? He has certainly done a useless act which would only result in bad consequences. He does not appear honest to me! He has done a sin like the one who longs for his teacher’s bed! I do not think much for me, but I do think of my parents who have been supported by me all this time. How would they operate after I die? With one arrow, my parents and I have been killed! Who is that juvenile mind that has killed us?’”

“I was deeply pained to hear his sorrowful words. I was worried with my action. The bow dropped from my hand. My thoughts rolled. I got dizzy. Depressed and confused I proceeded in the direction of the sound and saw the hermit fallen at the river bank struck with the arrow. The locks on his head were disheveled, the pitcher lay scattered; he was lying on the ground with his body covered with dust and blood. I was sick and scared. Enraged he was, he spoke cruel words as though to burn me up with his anger: ‘I am a forest dweller. What wrong have I caused you that you hurt me while I had come to take water for my parents? With a single arrow to my heart, you have killed me and both of my blind parents. Frail as they are, the two would be waiting for me in anticipation holding on to their painful thirst! Certainly their penance or their knowledge of the scriptures was of no use to them! My father does not know that I have fallen on the ground! What can he do even if he knew? He is incapable of moving on his own. Like a tree incapable of protecting a neighboring tree, he is incapable of protecting me. O’ Rāghava, please go to him quickly and apprise him of the situation. His anger though like a forest fire would be subdued! Ask him forgiveness such that he does not get mad and curse you. Here is the path that leads to his hermitage. Please help remove the arrow from my chest. It is killing me like a swift current eating away the river bank!’

“I got into a dilemma ‘he is suffering in pain with the arrow pierced in him; on the other hand he would die if I remove the arrow.’ The hermit did notice the painful anxiety in me that made me feel miserable. A scholar he was, he tried to speak with difficulty. He counseled ‘though I am made motionless and handicapped, and my death is near, I wish to stay composed restraining my pain. I wanted to tell you that you should get rid of any fear that you killed a Brāhmin. Please do not feel sorry since I am not a Brāhmin by birth. O’ King, my mother is a s’udra woman and my father is a vaiśya!’ Thus speaking with the arrow stuck in his chest, he was painfully turning around, sometimes still and sometimes quivering! Then I extracted the arrow from his body. Giving a scary look at me the ascetic breathed his last. O’ Kauśalyā! I was torn to see him sighing again and again with the wound at his heart. He was lying at the bank of the river with his body drenched in water!”

Chapter LXIII ends in 53 stanzas.

Chapter LXIV
The curse to Daśaratha, Daśaratha’s death

The King was recalling the story of the death of the hermit and feeling the deep pain. With righteousness at his heart, he spoke to Kauśalyā “Having done serious errors I tried to reconcile to myself. I went on thinking how do I turn things around. I collected that pitcher and filled it up with clear water. Then I proceeded on the path as was indicated to me. I reached the hermitage. There I saw the two worn out blind parents who were doomed in age. Since no one was there to help them move around, they were stuck as a pair of birds whose wings had been severed! They were sitting waiting for their son’s return and were talking about him. They were eagerly waiting without knowing that their hope had been destroyed by my action! I was deeply worried and felt scared. Hearing my foot-steps, the blind hermit spoke out ‘Why are you late, my son! Please bring the water quickly! You had been playing in water! Your mother is anxiously waiting! Please enter the cottage quickly. Please do not take into your noble heart anything your mother or I might have done wrong! Support-less as we are, you are our only support. Sight-less as we are, you are our eyes! Our life is focused on you!’ With a pause he wondered ‘How come you are not greeting me?’ Scared I was, my speech faltered. I lost my voice, I was utterly disorganized. Then taking courage and trying to compose myself, I spoke to him the dreadful story regarding his son!”

“I am the kṣatriya Daśaratha and not your son! Through my own action, I have caused an unforgivable tragedy. O’ noble hermit, I arrived at the banks of Sarayū with bow and arrow in hand looking for any animal that might descend to drink water. Hearing the sound of water filling the pitcher, I thought of it as an elephant and hit my arrow. While I went to the river, I saw the young hermit lying on the ground with life almost lost. Under the advice of that injured ascetic, I removed the arrow from his chest. Immediately he wailed out that you both were blind, then he passed away. Your son was killed by me through my ignorance! Please advise me what should be done as his last rites.” Hearing my heart-wrenching story confessing the guilt, the great hermit was unable to inflict a terrible curse. I stood there with folded arms in front of him. With choked voice and sighs, the aggrieved hermit spoke to me ‘Had you not told this terrible story yourself, your head would have split instantly into a thousand parts! Killing of an unidentified ascetic by a kṣatriya could bring down Indra from the heavens! In case a weapon is discharged knowingly to an ascetic sitting in meditation, the head of the person would definitely split in seven! You survived since you did this out of ignorance, otherwise the entire clan of the Raghu would have been extinct; you would not exist! Please take both of us to the site that you said; we wish to witness our son on his death bed. Our dear son drenched in blood and with scattered deerskin would be lying alone without senses being under the control of the Lord of Death, Yama! What a pity!’”

“I escorted the heart-broken couple towards the river and helped them touch their son. While they were feeling the body, they both sank down on it. The father wailed: ‘O’ my boy, you do not greet me today! You do not say a word! Why are you lying on the ground? Are you upset with me? My son, in case I am not to your liking, please look at your devoted mother. Why are you not giving her a hug? O’ my son, please speak sweet words to me! Whose lovely voice reading the scriptures would I hear in the night? Who would be there to help me bathe and help me with the evening rituals by setting up the oblation fire? Then who would be there to console me from the fear and sorrow caused by the death of my son? Who would bring fruits and roots as though for a beloved guest in order to feed me, a person of no resource and no support? How would I support this old mother of yours, who is not only blind but is immeasurably miserable with anxiety? Wait! Wait, my son! Do not go away alone to the Yama’s place! You would go tomorrow with me along with your mother! Distressed with grief and left without help in the forest, we should quickly proceed to the Lord of Death, Yama! We are forlorn since we have now lost you! Meeting Yama I would tell him ‘O protector of the worlds! Please forgive me. I request you to grant a boon that this boy may continue to take care of his parents. My son was killed through an error, but he is sinless. Let his truthfulness allow him to join those who die fighting with weapons. My son, reach that high level as is reached by those who die in battles fighting the enemy. My boy, you join the illustrious realm of Sagara, S’aibya, Dilīpa, Janamejaya, Nahuṣa, Dundumāra in your after-life. Let your domain be as those who study the Vedas, who donate land, who keep the sacred fire and who continue to stick to a single wife! Let you get similar fate as one who has given away a thousand cows in the service of his teachers, or one who has sacrificed himself for a noble cause! Anyone born in our clan would never have a bad fate. Only he who killed you, my son, would reap a bad fate!’”

“The miserable ascetic wailed piteously. Finally he got up to offer water to the dead body. Blessed with the splendid merits, the righteous son ascended to the heaven along with Indra. In the presence of Indra, he consoled his parents ‘Through my service to you, I have gained a place in the heaven. You two would soon reach my abode!’ Saying thus, he rode his aerial car and quickly moved. I stood there with my hands folded. The father did the libation rites and burst out to me ‘Thanks to your arrow taking away my son, I do not have any regrets to die today! Even though you killed my son out of ignorance, I am grieving terribly. I must curse you. You would suffer through the grief of losing your son as I am going through at the present time. Since you killed out of ignorance, I would not accuse you of having killed a brāhmin. A situation similar to this would quickly arise in your life. This would not only be sorrowful but would be fatal. The pain would increase as merit increases for the person who gives gifts to the priest!’ Invoking such a curse and wailing wildly, two of them jumped into the funeral pyre on their onward journey. My dear Kauśalyā, the foolish act I did of trying out the efficiency of the arrow to detect sound is haunting me now. Because of such act, the ill fate has dawned on me like a disease that follows unhealthy food consumed in a meal. The words of that great sage are echoing on my ears!”

The King was crying like a baby, he looked scared. He spoke to his wife “My life is about to give away distressed out of pain of losing my son. My eyes are blinding, I am unable to see. Please come near and touch me. People do lose their eyesight when they are about to die. I believe I might only recover if Rāma ever physically touches me or if he inherits the wealth or the crown! I am pained that the way I have treated him is very unbecoming to the service he has rendered to me! No intelligent man ever gets rid of a son however bad he might be! Which son when exiled would not find fault with his father? O’ Kauśalyā, I am losing myself! My eyesight has failed. The agents of death are rushing to me! It is painful that I am unable to see my noble, truthful and righteous Rāma as death is calling me! Not seeing my son of incomparable qualities is draining my energy away like water dries up in bright sunshine. After fifteen years, people who would see Rāma’s face with those beautiful lotus eyes and lovely nose, ears adorned with those charming and auspicious rings would be gods not men! Blessed are they who would see Rāma’s lovely countenance bloomed as a full lotus under the autumn moon with its pervaded fragrance. Rāma’s return to Ayodhyā after the exile is like the planet Venus getting back on its track! O’ Kauśalyā, my mind is frozen, the heart is pounding; I am losing my senses! Because of the loss of the senses my limbs are not functioning, like a lamp dims down with the reduced oil! This grief created in me by my own actions is rendering me helpless through corrosion like a swift current would eat away the river bank! O’ my Rāma, O’ man of extraordinary reach, O’ remover of my woes, O’ darling of your father, O’ my Lord, O’ my son! You are really gone out of my sight. O’ Kauśalyā, O’ Sumitrā, O’ unfriendly disgraceful Kaikeyī! My vision is lost!”

Thus wailing the King reached the last phase of his life in the company of Kauśalyā and Sumitrā. The noble King went on moaning through the night. Sorely grief-stricken, the King breathed his last about the middle of the night.

Chapter LXIV ends in 78 stanzas.

Chapter LXV
Discovery of Daśaratha’s death, wailing in the palace

The night passed. The singers, bards, minstrels and other well-trained musicians arrived at the palace in the early morning for the usual wake-up rituals. They went on singing and playing music in many different styles. The palace reverberated with the loud music and with the recitations of praises, blessings and benedictions. Some went on clapping hands recounting the marvelous feats accomplished by the King. The birds in the trees and in the cages went on cooing following the beats. The Brāhmins joined in with vīṇā music and sang from the scriptures and the extracts from the epics. Well-disciplined women from good families who were knowledgeable in attending the King showed up. Attendants in charge to bathe the King brought in water mixed with sandalwood paste and carried it in golden pitchers. Young virgin ladies brought in auspicious goods and water for the ritualistic morning sip. Everything was done with care and completeness as prescribed in the scriptures. The whole retinue worked eagerly till the morning sun rose. They got worried when the King did not show up outside.

The attendants in the inner quarters checked the bedroom. They tried to wake the King up by calling his name. They touched the bed gently and spoke with care and dignity. They did not see any sign of movement in the King. Knowledgeable as they were in the human condition and movements, they were getting scared about the state of King’s life; their nervous examination of the King looked like the grass reeds bending down facing a current! They felt apprehensive about the possible loss of King’s life. Kauśalyā and Sumitrā, overcome by the agony of the separation from their sons, were tired in deep sleep nearby and were not getting up. Devoid of her shine and discolored through crying, Kauśalyā looked like a star plunged in darkness. She was sleeping next to the King and Sumitrā slept next. Sumitrā’s face too was drenched in tears of grief. Seeing the queens in deep sleep and looking at the King with no movement, the ladies inferred that the King must have breathed his last during his sleep. They burst out in loud wails in agony. The sound appeared like those of crowing female elephants in a forest while the leader strayed away from the herd. Hearing that noise, Kauśalyā and Sumitrā suddenly woke up and tried to recover from their sleep. Looking at the King and touching him, they cried out “O’ Lord!” They dropped down to the ground. Kauśalyā fallen on the ground and now tossing over in pain, looked dull with dust stains like a star having fallen down on the ground!

The attending ladies saw the king dead. Highly distressed Kauśalyā was tossing on the ground as a nāga woman. All other women including Kaikeyī were crying loud. Many had lost their consciousness. Those loud wails echoed all over the palace. The King’s relatives showed up and all were in deep despair. The din and joy in the palace were replaced by misery and distress. All queens surrounded the body and went on waling the memorable deeds that the King did. They held his arms, cried piteously and moaned as having lost their support in the world!

Chapter LXV ends in 29 stanzas.

Day 22, Ayodhyākāṇḍa Chapters LIX – LXII

This is our twenty second session; the date is July 20, 2014. We had only one session in June. July is also a slow month with vacations and summer travels. Surendrabhai Vaidya, Prem Nagar, Meena Sivanarayanan and Ravi Teja showed up. We assembled in the classroom. We began our session at 3:15 PM.

The sections we read contain the repentances of Daśaratha and grief of Kauśalyā. Daśaratha is unable to reconcile with his error. His affection to Rāma gets more intense feeling the separation. Certainly Rāma was the most loved individual in the town and everyone feels the pain. Depiction of Rāma as the man of the people who love him dearly makes the characterization noble, positive and ideal. Vālmīki ’s play of words to enhance the emotional impact reached a new high.

Chapter LIX

Sumantra described to the King the parting sights with Rāma. “As Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa departed for the forest, I bade farewell to both the princes with tremendous grief at heart. I rode the chariot, but the horses would not move. They went on shedding tears. I felt helpless. I stayed with Guha a few extra days with the hope that I would hear from Rāma again. Even the trees in the kingdom have been affected with the grief of Rāma’s separation. The flowers, the buds and the shoots show signs of withering. The rivers, lakes and ponds have dried up. The leaves in the forest and in the gardens are showing stress. People are not moving around. Not even the snakes are out to procure food. The forests have no activity. All are affected by the grief caused by Rāma’s exile. The dried out leaves of the water plants have piled up on the river. They make the water dirty. The lotus flowers have withered. The fish and the birds have perished. Flowers and fruits have lost their charm. They are not fragrant any more. The gardens in the city are empty. The birds have disappeared. O’ King! There is nothing good and pleasant around! No one greeted me as I entered Ayodhyā. Not seeing Rāma in the chariot, people began sighing repeatedly. Tears were rolling from eyes. Distressed by the absence of Rāma, the ladies from the buildings and the homes wailed aloud. Their beautiful large eyes were sunk, filled in tears. They were gazing at each other expressionless, affected in deep sorrow. I did not see any distinction between Rāma’s friends, foes or the elders. All were in grief. With sadness in people and misery in the animals, I only heard painful sobs and deep sighs. All are unhappy. Ayodhyā looks like Kauśalyā whose son has been taken away!”

Hearing these words from Sumantra, the King got emotional. His voice faltered, choked with grief. He said: “I was duped by Kaikeyī ’s evil intentions. I did not discuss Rāma’s exile with any of the responsible elders. Without conferring with the well-wishers, the counsellors and the knowledgeable individuals, I did all this in a rush purely out of my infatuation to my wife. It is possible that Providence has caused this act in order to strike calamity, in order to destroy this race. O’ Sumantra, please get me over to Rāma if you think I have done anything good in life. My instincts are prompting me to see him. If there is any respect to my commands today, let someone help me to get Rāma back. I am unable to survive a moment without him! Please take me over to Rāma on a chariot in case my valiant son has gone away too far! O’ my son! Those brilliant teeth, that superb dignity with bow and arrow! I can only survive if I see him together with Sita! In case I am unable to see my son of those fierce eyes, those lovely long arms, that beautiful face wearing ear-rings of gems and pearls, I would rather welcome death! There is no more pain than the inability to have a sight of the scion of Ikṣvāku! Ha Rāma! Ha Lakṣmaṇa! Ha my dutiful Sītā! You do not know the pain of this miserable person! I have none to lean on! Please help!”

The King was overwhelmed with grief. Describing his state as though being immersed in a limitless ocean of sorrow, he turned to Kauśalyā “O’ Kauśalyā! The torment of separation from Rāma is the force in this ocean, locating Sita is the driver to reach the other shore, my periodic long breaths are the waves and vortices, my outflow of tears are the dirt in this ocean, my outstretched arms are the fishes, the loud wailings are the roaring noise in the deep waters, my dishevelled hair are the weeds, Kaikeyī is the deep ocean fire that causes tears to roll from my eyes, the words of Mantharā are like those ferocious alligators and the boons to cruel Kaikeyī are the coastlines that caused Rama’s exile. It is most unfortunate that I am immersed in this ocean without Rāma. O’ Devī! It is most difficult for me to survive in this ocean of grief! It is most unbecoming that I am unable to see Rama along with Lakṣmaṇa today!”

So saying, the King lost consciousness and dropped on the ground. Seeing him depressed and fallen down, Kauśalyā ’s agony doubled with the worry if the King would survive!

Chapter LIX ends in 34 stanzas.

Chapter LX

Kauśalyā was fallen on the ground almost lifeless. She was trembling periodically as though occupied by a spirit. After a while, she spoke to Sumantra “Please take me over where Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā are! I have no intention to live even for a moment without them today! Please return the chariot and take me over to Daṇḍaka quickly. In case I cannot reach them I should die.” Sumantra was deeply touched with such heart-felt emotion. His voice choked up. In faltering words, he tried to console the queen “Please get rid of any agony, attachment or emotion that comes with grief. Please forbid agony. Rāma is determined to stay in the forest. Lakṣmaṇa also would stay with him. He provides service to Rāma in a dutiful manner with an eye to the other world! Though she is lonely in the forest, she remains fully secure by keeping Rāma in her mind just like at home. I did not notice any slight disdain in her. It appeared as though she feels at home even in exile. She wanders around in the lonely forests just like she used to roam around in the gardens in the city. Sītā, with her face resembling the newly risen moon, roams like an innocent child in the forest holding Rāma in her heart. Sītā has indeed her heart in Rāma and lives her life for him. She would feel Ayodhyā as good as the forest when Rāma is not there. She goes on asking to Rāma or Lakṣmaṇa about the villages, the towns, the rivers and the trees as they pass by. Having them in proximity, she feels as though she is roaming in a town garden. I only remember so much about her. She did speak something about Kaikeyī, but I do not recall immediately!”

By skipping over those thoughts that had come to his mind, Sumantra went on adding some more pleasurable words. “Neither the strong winds, fierce sun, nor with the scare of the forest, disturb the moon-like brilliance in Sītā’s face. The lotus like face bright as a full moon does not show any strain. Though not colored with Alakta , her feet still look red as the buds of lotus. She has not relinquished her jewelry yet and walks around with jingling anklets. She does get scared by seeing an elephant, lion or a tiger in the forest, and feels fully protected in Rāma’s arms. Neither they, nor you or the King should be worried about this. This story would live through forever on this earth! They have shaken off grief and are following the paths trodden by eminent sages. They are keen to fulfill the vow of the father and live on fruits in the forest!”

Though advised by Sumantra to refrain for agonizing, Kaushalya could not restrain herself. In utter agony, she cried out “O’ my dear! O’ my son! O’ Rāma!”

Chapter LX ends in 23 stanzas.

Chapter LXI

Having settled in the thought that Rāma has indeed determined to stay in the forest in order to fulfill his vow, Kauśalyā wailed aloud. She felt miserable. Then she yelled at her husband “Though your reputation as a compassionate, generous and a well-meaning person is well known over the three worlds, you never cared to think how your two sons with Sītā would survive the perils of the forest. They were reared with comfort and luxury. Sītā is young, child-like, not adept to severities; she deserves all comforts. How can she endure the cold and heat in the forest? Having been used to well-cooked and delicious food, how would she handle forest food with wild rice? How can she handle the roars of flesh eating animals and lions when she was used to sweet harmony of music and songs? Where does that mighty-armed son resembling the banner for the great Indra sleep in the night? Would he only have his strong arms under his head to support him in his sleep? When shall I see that lotus-eyed Rāma back? Oh! When do I see my Rāma of lotus complexion, beautiful hairs, with breath that carries the fragrance of lotus! It is obvious that my heart is made of hard rock that it does not split up in thousand pieces while I am unable to see Rāma! You have imposed cruel demands on my children that they have been expelled and are running around in the forest while they deserve comforts in the palace! It is not likely that Bharata would relinquish the throne and the treasury even when Rama returns back after fourteen years!”

“In śrāddha ceremony, it is seen that some people feed their own relatives first and then attend to the invited Brāhmins. In that situation, Brāhmins, who are of character and learning, do not accept food even made of heavenly taste! Brāhmins of high social order would not bother to receive left over food like the bulls would resist when their horns are severed. Why should the eldest and more deserving bother take the land ruled by his younger brother? A tiger does not wish to eat food hunted by another! Rāma would not think about a kingdom enjoyed by another! The sacrificial food, the ghee, the kuśa grass and the sacrificial khādira posts are used only once. They are not used a second time in a sacrifice. Rāma would not enjoy a kingdom already reigned by another. It is like not to drink wine where the flavor is lost, or not to use spoiled soma in a sacrifice. Rāma would not allow himself such indignity as a mighty tiger would resist touching its tail! People everywhere are scared to go to war against him, but he did not choose to go off his righteous duties. That great warrior of mighty arms can ignite the ocean like the destruction at the end of a yuga! That bull-eyed man of lion strength has been destroyed by his own father as the big fish eats away its child! I doubt whether the eternal righteousness preached through the scriptures exist in you that you have sent your own son to exile! O’ King! The first support for a woman is her husband, next is her son, the third is her relatives, there does not exist a fourth! Among these three, you are no support since you caused Rāma to go to the forest. Rāma is in the forest and I do not wish to go there because of my own constraints. Alas! I am lost, destroyed by you! You have destroyed this kingdom, you have destroyed all the Ministers and the counsellors; you have destroyed the citizens. I am destroyed with my son! Only your wife Kaikeyī and son Bharata could be happy!”

Hearing these strong words, the King gasped “O’ Rāma!” He was deeply saddened and was in intense grief. While agonizing, he remembered an old misdeed he did while he was very young.

Chapter LXI ends in 27 stanzas.

Chapter LXII

The angry words of grieving Kauśalyā caused deep pains to the King. Reflecting on them, he appeared confused. He lost consciousness. Coming back to senses after a long time, he resumed in his perturbed state breathing warm with deep sighs. Noticing Kauśalyā on his side, he relapsed into his introspection again. An old misdeed that he did testing his skills of hitting targets by sensing sounds flashed in his memory. He lost his mind with this remorseful recollection. His grief doubled. Tormenting in grief, he folded his arms and trembled. With face hanging down, he spoke to Kauśalyā: “I seek your grace, O’ Kauśalyā, here is my respectful submission to you with my folded hands. You are a loving person. You are full of compassion even to your enemies! Whether the person is virtuous or lacks any virtue, the husband is the visible incarnation to a discriminating woman! You are righteous and are aware of the good and bad in the world. It does not behoove you to speak the harsh words howsoever grief-stricken you could be.”

Hearing such remorseful submission from the King, Kauśalyā was utterly dismayed and confused. She broke into tears. It looked like new water gushing through surface streams. Dropping her head into the King’s palms like a lotus, she said: “Please be kind to me. I beg of you. I am falling at your feet. I am totally ruined that you would ask me. My sin is unpardonable. That woman is not a wife who is not graced by her respectful and wise husband in this world and beyond. I do know what is right and I also know that you are always truthful. I have spoken something bad through my deep grief at heart for my son. Grief destroys patience and grief erases knowledge. Grief destroys everything, there is no more enemy than grief! A blow from the hands of an enemy can be handled, but small amount of grief is unbearable to sustain! Five nights have passed since Rāma began his exile, they appear like five years to me stealing all joy from my life. The grief in my heart increases while thinking about him as the ocean swells with the rapid inflow of the rivers.”

As Kauśalyā was saying these conciliatory words, the daylight was getting low and the night was approaching. The king was pleased with Kauśalyās words. Already deeply stricken in grief, the King fell into a deep sleep!

Chapter LXII ends in 20 stanzas.

 

Day 21, Ayodhyākāṇḍa Chapters LIII – LVIII

This is our twenty first session; the date is June 22, 2014. We have completed one full year of Rāmāyaṇa readings. We did celebrate an anniversary event on May 4, 2014. A report for the event was compiled and published http://www.lokvani.com/lokvani/article.php?article_id=10172 The pictures for the event are archived in http://www.dwarkamai.org/photos/category/115-valmiki-ramayana-reading-1st-anniversary

Though Rāma has left such that his father’s words are not broken, he remains concerned for his mother. He persuades Lakṣmaṇa to return back to Ayodhyā such that he can be helpful to the family. Lakṣmaṇa is determined that he must be around his brother and have an opportunity to serve him. Lakṣmaṇa’s character is bold and strong. Vālmīki ’s characterization of a brother through Lakṣmaṇa is exceptional. Any adventure needs a friend. There is no better friend than an adoring brother.

Sumantra has the unfortunate task of informing the royals about Rāma’s journey in the forest. Vālmīki is again slow and analytic. He takes care of emotions in detail and the scenes play out vividly through the words. It is the continuation of Karuṇa rasa which gradually intensifies.

The Summer is slow, we are a group of six. We assemble by 3:20 PM. Finishing our usual invocations, we begin our reading.

Chapter LIII

Rāma was settled near the tree. He offered his evening worship. Then he spoke to Lakṣmaṇa: “This is our first night’s stay outside our home city. This is also the first night we pass without our friend Sumantra. Please do not get worried; we just need to keep vigilant through the night such that we can protect Sītā. Let us pass down the night in some manner lying on the ground covering the space with whatever we can find.”

Rāma became reflective. Sitting on the bare ground he shared his thoughts with Lakṣmaṇa: “I think it is certain that the King would pass the night in pain. On the other hand, Kaikeyī would certainly be feeling gratified. Let me wish that she does not get overly ambitious and kill the King to acquire the kingdom on Bharata’s return! What the old and helpless king could do when I am not there! He is trapped by Kaikeyī because of his own desires! Observing such instability and confusion in the mind of the King, I have come to the conclusion that desire plays a stronger role in human life than wealth and merit. What kind of unwise man he would be who would get rid of an obedient son like me in order to please a woman? Bharata indeed is the lucky man. He is blessed with a good wife! He is going to rule the prosperous lands of Kosala. He will enjoy the full pleasure of the kingdom now since the king is retired and I have been exiled to the forest!”

“People who get to the sense pleasures abandoning the paths of wealth and merit very quickly fall into the lonely state as our father has gotten into. It appears that Kaikeyī succeeded in causing the end of King Daśaratha by sending me in exile and securing the kingdom for Bharata. Blinded by pride and wealth, she could cause hardship Kauśalyā and Sumitrā because of their relationship with me! Your mother Queen Sumitrā is likely to suffer through. Lakṣmaṇa, you should return to Ayodhyā tomorrow morning from here itself! I would proceed to Daṇḍaka with Sītā. You would be home to protect my helpless mother Kauśalyā and your own mother. Kaikeyī is known to act low and can resort to any unfair means. She is driven through malice. O’ my good brother, Kaikeyī can even administer poison to your mother and mine! In a previous birth, I think, my mother possibly caused some women to lose their children. So, Lakṣmaṇa, such unfortunate fate has presented itself to her!”

“Woe on to me! I am away from my mother not meeting her expectations to support her at her time of need! She nurtured and raised me all these years! No mother gives birth to such a useless son! Lakṣmaṇa, I have inflicted endless suffering to my mother! I believe that my mother’s pet parrot is more affectionate to her than me! She is heard of telling the parrot ‘O’ parrot, bite the foot of my enemy!’ What use I am to my grieving mother of such poor luck! It is as though she does not have a son! Indeed my mother is in bad luck that she feels distressed without me and is in insurmountable misery! Know this, if I get upset, I can subdue not only Ayodhyā but the entire planet through by my arrows all by myself! But, my brother, valor must not be always resorted! I am afraid of any wrong-doing, lest it becomes a problem to me in my next birth! Because of this, O’ Lakṣmaṇa, I do not prefer to install myself on the King’s throne today!”

Rāma went on long time in this manner through the night. Tears filled his eyes. He was miserable, he sat down quiet in that lonely forest looking like a smoking fire getting extinguished. He was like a sea without ripples! Lakṣmaṇa tried to console him: “O’ Rāma, the greatest among the warriors! It is true that Ayodhyā has lost its lustre with your departure. The city would look like a night without the moon! But it is not right for you to lament like this. It makes both me and Sītā sad. Both Sītā and I would not survive even for a moment without you! We would be like fish taken out of water! O’ Destroyer of the foes! I do not wish to see anyone – my father, or my brother S’atrughna or my mother Sumitrā, not even the heavens, without you today!”

Lakṣmaṇa made a decent bed for Rāma and Sītā under the banyan tree. They took rest there. Rāma continued to ponder on Lakṣmaṇa’s well-spoken consoling words. He made up his mind to spend the years of his exile in Lakṣmaṇa’s company. After this, the two scions of Raghu dynasty never experienced any disagreement in that lonely forest. They lived like two lions living on the mountain caves!

Chapter LIII ends in 35 stanzas.

Chapter LIV

The party spent that special night under the big banyan tree. In the morning, with the bright sun up in the sky, they set forward in their journey. They proceeded through the dense forest and went in the direction where the River Yamunā met the River Bhāgīrathī Gaṁgā. Passing through exquisite tracts of land they never saw before, the illustrious party slowly walked looking at the sights. They were delighted to see trees and flowers in blossom. It got dusk. Rāma said to Lakṣmaṇa: “O’ Soumitrī, look, we are close to Prayāga. Look at the smoke over there; it is the signal of the auspicious fire. I think a sage resides nearby. We certainly have reached the confluence of River Gaṁgā and River Yamunā since the noise of clash of waters is heard. I see various trees have been cut by people. I see logs indicating the hermitage.”

Leisurely walking through the forest, the two archers reached the hermitage of the Sage Bharadvāja at the confluence of Gaṁgā and Yamunā by the night-fall. Hounding away the beasts and birds on the road, Rāma and the party approached the hermitage. They waited at a distance in order to meet the Sage. Getting permission, Rāma with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa entered the hut. They met the Sage surrounded by his disciples. The deeply-vowed sage sat with his eyes set in deep meditation. Rāma saw the oblation fire. He offered respects to the Sage with folded hands. He said to the sage “O’ Sage! We are Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, the sons of King Daśaratha. This is Vaidehī Sītā, the honorable daughter of King Janaka. She follows me to the forest. I have been exiled by my father to the forest. My brother resolves to follow me. As ordered by my father, we would reside in the forest and would follow through our religious tasks subsisting on roots and fruits.”

The Sage heard Rāma quietly. He offered a cow as a gift and then offered them water to wash hands. The highly accomplished Sage observing the conduct of deep penance then served them food of different kinds made out of forest produce. He arranged accommodation for the party. Surrounded by forest animals, birds, and his many pupils, the Sage addressed Rāma seated nearby: “O’ Kākutstha! I am long since expecting your arrival. I have heard of the manner you have been exiled! This open stretch of land at the confluence of these two great rivers is not only secluded, but is holy and beautiful. Please feel free to stay here happily!” Hearing this, Rāma showed a bit disagreement: “O’ Noble Sage! The city of Ayodhyā and the settlements are close to this place. With easy access and finding easy sight, people would flock around to peep on Sītā. Because of this, I do not like to stay here. Please find for us a hermitage in a lonely location where Sītā may have an opportunity to move around more comfortably.” The Sage Bharadvāja understood the purport of Rāma’s request. He said “In about ten krośa from here there is a beautiful holy mountain inhabited by a great sage. Long-tailed monkeys and bears live around there. It is called Citrakūṭa and is as pretty as Gandhamādana. As long as man keeps looking at the peaks of Citrakūṭa Mountains, he gets devoted to pious acts. His mind is not distracted to sin. Many ascetics spend hundreds of years there and eventually ascend to heaven with their own body in tact! I think that location could be right for your stay. On the other hand, you are always welcome at this abode of mine!”

The Sage Bharadvāja offered hospitality of many kinds to Rāma, his wife and brother. While Rāma was engaged in conversations with the Sage, the night rolled deeper. Rāma, busy in protecting the rest, was tired. He was looking forward to rest. He slept the night comfortably in the lovely hermitage. In the dawn, he approached the bright-faced Sage. He said “Dear Noble Soul, we passed the night in your hermitage. Please allow us to move forward to our new location.” The Sage Bharadvāja responded “Please do proceed to Citrakūṭa, the mountain abounding with honey, fruits and roots. I believe the location would be suitable for you. That forest is adorned with trees of various kinds and is visited by Kinnaras and Nāgas. Flocks of peacocks make charming noise, the royal elephants inhabit the land. You would see herds of deer and elephants roaming around. It is holy, beautiful, and filled with fruits and roots. There are rivers, pools, lakes, streams, caves and mountain-ways. The soft sounds of koyaṣṭibha and cuckoo birds echo the land. It would delight you. That would be the right location for your stay!”

Chapter LIV ends in 43 stanzas.

Chapter LV

The princes begged leave of the Sage and wanted to proceed towards the Citrakūṭa Mountains. Seeing them leaving, the Sage performed the blessing rituals as a father would do to his own children. The glorious Sage instructed “O’ princes, after reaching the confluence of River Gaṁgā and River Yamunā, you follow the River Yamunā that goes westward for a distance. You approach that river going reverse and find the much-frequented passageway that descends to the river. Prepare a raft to cross the river. On the other side you would see the large green S’yāma Banyan Tree surrounded by many other trees. The tree is very auspicious and is worshipped by the Siddhas. Sītā should offer worship to the tree with folded arms in order to gain blessings. After that you could stay there or proceed further. At a distance of a krośa from that tree you would see the green Nīlakānana populated with sallakī and vadarī trees with bamboo bushes on the banks of Yamunā. This road there is plain and there is no danger of forest fires. I have taken that road many times.”

Rāma noted the instructions and requested by him the Sage returned back to the hermitage. Once the Sage left, Rāma told Lakṣmaṇa “We are lucky that the Sage was compassionate to us. Let all be good with you!” Thus feeling confident, the brothers proceeded towards the River Yamunā letting Sītā walk in the front. They reached the fast-moving Yamunā. They were worried about crossing the river. They assembled wooden logs and covered them with dry bamboos and uśīra plants thus constructing a fair-size raft. Cutting cane shoots and branches from the rose-apple trees Lakṣmaṇa made a comfortable seat for Sītā. Then Rāma helped the beautiful Sītā to ride the raft. Sītā felt a bit bashful with the attention. Rāma kept the dresses and the ornaments near Sītā, including the shovel and the basket that they carried. Holding the raft steady, the brothers cautiously began to row it. They were pleased with their efforts!

While they reached the mid-river, Sītā offered prayers to the river-deity. “O’ Mother! Have grace on me such that I may cross the difficult vow my husband has undertaken. Once we are back safely in Ayodhyā, ruled by the Ikṣvāku family, I promise to offer you a thousand cows and a hundred pitchers of drinks.” Sītā offered the prayers with heart and emotion. The raft reached the southern banks of the river crossing the fast moving currents. The trees on the banks were indeed useful in crossing the river! They succeeded! The party got down from the raft and left it. They proceeded to the green shaded areas of the S’yāma Banyan Tree. Reaching the tree, Sītā offered her prayers. “O’ Great Tree! I salute you. Please bless me such that I can help my husband keep his difficult vow. Please enable us to see Kauśalyā and the illustrious Sumitrā soon.” The noble-minded Sītā went around the tree.

The scene that his dear and loyal wife was begging for grace from the spirit of the tree touched Rāma. He instructed Lakṣmaṇa “Please proceed with Sītā in front and I will follow with weapons behind. Please fetch for her whatever fruit or flower she would like.” Having never seen such strange and massive trees and bushes, Sītā went on asking questions to Rāma. Hearing such queries, Lakṣmaṇa fetched twigs and blossoms of many beautiful flowering bushes. Sītā went on enjoying the sight of the river with its sandy beds, swans and cranes. Going another krośa on the river-bank, the brothers killed several deer for consecration. Alert, they walked through the forest inhabited by monkeys and elephants and soared by peacocks. They reached a level ground. They looked for a site to spend the night.

Chapter LV ends in 33 stanzas.

Chapter LVI

Lakṣmaṇa had dozed off in the early morning. As the night passed, Rāma gently roused him up: “O’ Soumitrī, listen, the birds have started making morning noise. Our time for journey has come.” Advised by his brother, Lakṣmaṇa quickly got up from sleep. He recovered from the drowsiness caused through fatigue. They all took dips in the holy waters of Yamunā and proceeded on the path to Citrakūṭa, the path taken by many ṛṣi(s) earlier. As they walked, Rāma spoke about the sights to Sītā: “Vaidehī ! Look at all these flowering trees radiating with spring blossoms. The kiṁśuka tree is laden with garlands made of its own flowers! See here, the nut and bilva trees are loaded with blooming fruits untouched by any. There are enough for us to live through. Lakṣmaṇa, look, there are large honeycombs dropping down from the every tree. They are laden with fresh honey made by the bees. And on the other side see the beautiful scatter of flowers. I hear birds chattering and peacocks crowing! Lakṣmaṇa, inhabited by herds of elephants and roared by flocks of birds these are the great mountains of Citrakūṭa. We would have good time roaming on these valleys surrounded by trees in this lovely and auspicious forest!” Going further, Rāma exclaimed: “My brother! It is overwhelming to view this grand sight of the mountain covered with all these beautiful trees. With the fruits and roots, I believe that we can find our sustenance easily. Many noble ascetics make their abode on these hills. This is the right place to live! We should reside here!”

In this manner, Rāma, Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa reached the hermitage of the Sage Vālmīki. They greeted him with folded arms. The eminent Sage was delighted and greeted the party with respect. He offered them seats. He said “Please be seated.” Rāma introduced all to him respectfully. Then he instructed Lakṣmaṇa: “Please fetch strong and good quality logs. Let us construct a hut. My mind is intent in living here!” Lakṣmaṇa immediately collected logs from the trees. He began erecting a hut and covered it with fresh twigs and leaves. Seeing the hut erected, Rāma advised: “Soumitrī, we should fetch a black deer as offering and do the vāstuśamana ritual such that we sanctify the hut against evil omens. Please remember the instructions from the scriptures on our duties. Please hunt for a deer and bring along.” Lakṣmaṇa followed his brother’s instructions and did as told. Rāma then said “Please cook the meat, we would sanctify the hut. Please rush, this is the right moment and today is the auspicious day of Dhruva.” Lakṣmaṇa did drop the sacrificial deer in the oblation fire. Once it was all cooked up and dried up of any blood, he reported to Rama “All the limbs of the black deer are now fully cooked. It is ready for propitiating the deities.”

The disciplined Rāma took a bath and recollected the mantras required for the ritual. Then he invoked all the protective deities and purified the hut. The glorious Rāma was pleased with the ritual. He offered vali to Vaiśvadeva, then to Rudra, and then to Viṣṇu. He chanted mangala to appease the Vāstu spirits. In this manner Rāma did the vali in order to ask forgiveness for any sins. For the proper services, he constructed the ritual altars and platforms fitting to the hermitage. Like gods entering an assembly hall, the three of them entered the good-looking hut, appropriately built that was covered with leaves and was positioned away from the winds. Reaching the beautiful Citrakūṭa Mountains and the nearby auspicious Mālyavatī River, Rāma was indeed happy. He was recovering from the agony of exile from Ayodhyā.

Chapter LVI ends in 35 stanzas.

Chapter LVII

After having spoken to Sumantra at length and after seeing Rāma reach the southern banks of Gaṁgā, the much distressed Guha left for his village. His informants had been keeping track of Rāma’s movement to Bharadvāja, his reception there and his departure to the Citrakūṭa Mountains. They reported their sighting to Sumantra, who was deeply disturbed. Feeling hopeless at heart, he yoked the horses to the chariot and left for Ayodhyā. He passed through fragrant forests, rivers, lakes; he passed many villages and towns. He reached Ayodhyā the second day evening. The city was empty and quiet, it appeared lifeless. Sumantra reflected inside ‘Did the elephants, the horses, people and the elders get consumed in the fire of grief caused by Rāma’s exile?’

With such stray thoughts in mind, he entered the town gates. Suddenly hundreds and thousands of people rushed out. They ran behind the chariot. They went on asking “Where is Rāma?” “Our righteous and noble Rāma took leave of me near the Gaṁgā. I returned from there” – the charioteer replied. Realizing that Rāma indeed has crossed over the Gaṁgā, people were teary-eyed. They cried hard. Some cursed themselves “Woe to me”; some sighed “Ha Rāma!” Sumantra heard groups of people assembled and shouting “Lost indeed we are that we are not seeing our Rāma here! We would not see our noble Rāma any more in our social events, weddings and festivals! What good are people, what good is love, what good is anything pleasurable without Rāma? This city was indeed taken care of by Rāma as a father to his children!”

Passing through the market, Sumantra heard the distressed cries of women standing near the widows. They grieved as they missed Rāma. Hiding his face from their view, Sumantra reached the place of King Daśaratha. He got down from the chariot and entered the palace. He passed through the seven gates flocked with large assembly of people. Women had assembled in houses, gates and tall buildings. They were wailing hard distressed with the absence of Rāma. With their eyes flooded in tears they were staring at each other without words, they were tormenting. Then he heard the voices of the queens from inside the palace. Distressed in grief, they were talking to each other in suppressed voice: “What message would the charioteer give to Kauśalyā? Though screaming hard since her son has left abandoning the throne, she is still surviving! It appears that it may not be easy to lose life since it is not easy to maintain it!”

The voices gave a realistic picture. Overhearing these Sumantra entered the palace while himself burning in grief. Entering the eighth house, which was white in color, he saw the King in a miserable state. He was overly anxious to know about his son. Reaching out to him and greeting him, Sumantra delivered the message from Rāma as he had spoken. Hearing the message in complete silence, the King immediately lost consciousness, succumbing to grief. When the King fell on the ground, the ladies in the inner quarters burst into a wail with their arms raised up. Kauśalyā tried to get the King up with the help of Sumitrā. She spoke to the King: “How come you are not speaking to your messenger who has returned after a difficult mission? Do you feel shame today for your action? Please get up! It does not help by crying! Dear King, the person fearing whom you are not speaking to the messenger is not present here, please speak out!” Having spoken thus, Kauśalyā herself fell down on the ground immersed in grief. Seeing Kauśalyā falling down, all ladies cried hard. They kept looking at the King. Hearing those wails, everyone around – the old, the young and all others went on crying. The city of Ayodhyā got tense once more!

Chapter LVII ends in 34 stanzas.

Chapter LVIII

When the King regained consciousness, he called over Sumantra to know more about Rāma. Sumantra stood with hands folded in front of the King. The King was pensive thinking about Rāma; he was both in pain and grief. Distressed and sighing heavily, he appeared like a newly captured elephant looking for his savior. Sumantra’s body was covered in dust, his eyes were in tears. The King spoke to him: “Where would my noble son stay resting under the tree? Having been raised in comfort, what would he eat? How does someone who is used to sleep in luxury go through pain undeserving to him? How does a King’s son sleep on the ground as a destitute? He had the soldiers, chariots and elephants following him wherever he went. How does he move in the lonely forest? How do the brothers and Sītā live in the forest that is ruled by wild animals and deer, and is infested by the black cobras? Sumantra, please tell me how did my sons and Sītā get down from the chariot and walk by foot? You are indeed the lucky person who saw them entering the forest like the Aśvina brothers entered the Mount Mandara. What did Rāma say? And what did Lakṣmaṇa say? What did Sītā say? Please keep speaking to me all about Rāma while I am sitting, eating or sleeping; I want to live like King Yayāti in the holy company!”

Requested in this manner by the King, Sumantra narrated the events with his voice choking up. “O’ King, by performing the proper rituals and by putting his folded arms on his head Rāma said “The feet of my noble and holy father should be worshiped by my name! All the ladies in the inner quarters should be greeted appropriately on my behalf. Their welfare should be inquired irrespective of their rank or position! My greetings should be conveyed to my mother Kauśalyā telling her that all is well with me. Please do tell her that she should continue her daily rituals including the fire sacrifice. Please tell her on my behalf ‘O’ Mother, do take care of your husband like your god! Please get rid of pride and esteem, and treat all other mothers equally. Particularly please treat Kaikeyi as your elder. Even though Bharata is young, he should be treated like a king. Please remember your royal duties, please treat all the junior kings with respect.’ Bharata should also be told these words on my behalf. ‘Please treat all mothers with justice. You are the inheritor of the Ikṣvāku dynastic throne. As the king-designate, please do rule the land under the father’s direction. The King has gone old beyond age, but do not dethrone him. Following his orders, do conduct as the king-designate.’ Shedding a lot of tears, Rāma told me repeatedly to convey to Bharata ‘My mother is too attached to me. She should be taken care of as your own!’ This is all the lotus-eyed illustrious Rāma told me. Tears rolled from his eyes again and again as he spoke!”

“Lakṣmaṇa told a few words in anger. Breathing heavily he said ‘For what misconduct Rāma has been exiled? The King acted upon quickly casually hearing the words of Kaikeyī. He did not think if it was right or wrong. His action has caused enormous suffering to us! Is Rāma exiled because of greed or because a boon was granted? In either case a massive error has taken place. Whether it was done as desired by the King or as an act by Iśvara, I do not see any reason for Rāma to be abandoned. Rāma’s exile, done without proper consideration and with lack of insight, would certainly cause enormous grief. Because of this, I do not see any father-like quality in the King. Rāma is everything to me: my brother, my protector, my friend and my father! How can one who seeks welfare of all people please his subjects by such an action in rejecting the person who is loved by all? By sending the most pious of all and the most righteous Rāma to exile, how can one continue as the King against the will of his people?’”

“Sītā was also breathing highly. She stood there unreactive, as though she had lost her mind. Having never witnessed such misery before, the illustrious princess was crying affected by the distress of her husband. She did not tell me anything. Looking at her husband’s withered out face, she broke out into tears as I was about to leave! Rāma with tears in his eyes stood there with folded arms. Lakṣmaṇa was there standing keeping guard on all. The dutiful Sītā kept gazing at the royal chariot and at me as I moved!”

Chapter LVIII ends in 37 stanzas.

 

Day 20, Ayodhyākāṇḍa Chapters XLVIII – LII

This is our twentieth session; the date is April 20, 2014.  This week is treated as the vacation week for the elementary school children in Massachusetts.  Many other States in the US also treat the week as a vacation time for the kids to let enjoy the outdoors and sun after the beatings of the winter.  The American Struggle for Independence started with the Battle of Lexington and Concord on April 19, 1775.  The day is memorialized as a holiday for the third Monday in April calling it the Patriot’s Day.  The State of Massachusetts celebrates the day in a big way.  The massive Boston Marathon is organized this day.  I should note that this event was marred by bomb-explosions by two disenchanted young men who had repressed desires of destruction.  One of the brothers was killed in police-fight, the second is being tried in the courts.

Vālmīki is deliberate; he describes every event in minutest detail.  A poet is not a story-teller, but Vālmīki is.  Actually he creates the story.   Unlike the later retelling, Vālmīki ’s steps are natural.  He has to walk every step and he does.  He creates the story though some outline might have existed. To me he establishes the rasa through the process.  He creates the theory of poetics by defining the length a reader may hold attention to enjoy the story with interest and curiosity.  One needs interest to get into the realm of rasa.

In today’s section, Rāma’s chariot goes through the outskirts of Ayodhyā and Rāma is delighted to see the greenery of the countryside.  He prepares himself for the forest life.  Rama’s character is enhanced through the lamentations of the people caused by his separation.  There is a poetic beauty is presenting how goodness is appreciated on the earth.  People genuinely love him.  My reading is that Vālmīki uses many more words in order to develop the righteousness in Rāma’s character.  Apparently the poet knows that the rasa needs an environment for its manifestation.

We are all assembled by 3:15.  Finishing our usual invocations, we begin our reading.

Chapter XLVIII

The returning people were sad and disheartened.  They felt seriously hurt having been unable to persuade Rāma to return back to the city.  They were crying hard, tears rolled from their eyes.  They lost their zeal in life.  More cries waited with their wives and children when they went back to their houses.   Faces looked swollen with tears and grief.  Nobody was in good mood, no one felt happy.  There was no trade; there was no merchandise.  Cooking stopped in homes.  People were indifferent to loss and gain in business.  Mothers did not rejoice to get a first-born son!  Women chastised their men like the drivers would prick elephants!   “What use people have in their life if they do not see Rāma!” “What is the use of a wife, wealth, children or pleasure?”  “The only good man on earth Lakṣmaṇa has followed Rāma  along with Sītā in order to serve him!”  “The rivers, ponds and the lakes are fortunate that they provide clean waters to Rāma for bathing in the forest!”  “Forests, trees, mountains and rivers would give company to Rāma.”  “Wherever Rāma would go, he would be treated as an honored guest.”  “Trees loaded with flowering blossoms and bees in the mountains would pave the way for him.”  “Even when out of season, flowers and fruits would show up in the mountains as a respect to Rāma.”  “Clear streams of water would leave the mountains and would adore the ground carving it as pictures.”  “Trees on the mountain tops would delight Rāma.”  “There is no fear where Rāma is, nor is there any defeat!”  “That heroic son of Daśaratha might not be too far from us.  Let us all follow him.  The feet of such noble protector are our abode of happiness!  He is our goal; he is our destined asylum!  We will attend on Sītā while you take care of Rāma!”  The agonized women went on lamenting.

They continued: “The Rāghava Rāma would be of support to you, while Sītā would provide support to us, the women.   Who would stay in a place in an unsettled mind where all are longing for Rāma? We would have no use for our life, much less for our children or property in case Kaikeyī takes over the kingdom in an unrighteous manner without the King!  What that evil mind, who has gotten rid of her husband and son in order to gain riches, would not do?  We swear by our sons that as long as we are alive, we would not live in Kaikeyī ’s kingdom even though we might be supported by her!  Who can live with that wicked unrighteous woman who exiles the King’s son without a scruple?  Without a leader, the kingdom would be in turmoil, nothing would be available.  All due to evil Kaikeyī , the kingdom would be ruined!  As Rāma is gone, the King would not live through.  As Daśaratha would die, the prestige of the kingdom would end!  You all distressed people, who have lost your merits, should take poison, or you should follow Rāma to the forest.  Otherwise you should leave for some far away land.  Rāma, with his wife Sītā and brother Lakṣmaṇa, is exiled to the forest in deceit.  We are left behind tied to Bharata as animals are gathered together for a butcher.  That great lotus-eyed truthful Rāma, with full moon-like face, long arms and broad shoulders, who greets everyone sweetly, who is a tiger among men and has the valor of a happy elephant is now walking in the forest adoring it with his presence!”

Tormenting and succumbing to the fear of death, the women in the city cried bitterly.  The sun set and the night fell.  The city was shrouded in darkness.  There were no lights and no chanting of the Vedas.  The business had stilled, none was happy; there was no support.  The city appeared like a dark sky with no stars.  The women were crying hard for Rāma like their own son or brother had gone in exile; Rāma was dearer to them than their own sons.  All music, dance and singing had ceased.  The city had no life, there was no business.  The city looked like an ocean with water dried up!

Chapter XLVIII ends in 48 stanzas.

Chapter XLIX

Keeping the father’s words in mind, Rāma traveled forth towards the forest in the last segment of the night.  As they were traveling, the beautiful night ended.  He greeted the dawn.  They passed through many villages.  Viewing the beauty of tilled lands and flowering coutryside, he slowed down a bit to enjoy the scene.  Suddenly he heard voices in those hamlets murmuring through.  “Woe to King Daśaratha, who fell into the trap of passion!”  “Alas, the cruel evil-minded hot-tempered Kaikeyī has manipulated the King to exile his noble, learned, dispassionate son!”  “How would that noble daughter of Janaka, who is used to royal comforts all her life, handle the hardship of the forest?”  “How come the King Daśaratha showed so little affection to his own son?”  “How does he get rid of Rāma, the most sinless person on earth?”

Ignoring these words from the villagers, the heroic Rāma passed through the villages.  Crossing a river named Vedaśruti, he proceeded south towards the land going by the name of Sage Agastya.  Going some distance he crossed the Gomatī River, populated with cows.  Its cool waters flowed to the sea.   On the other side he crossed the Syandikā River, inhabited by peacocks and swans.  Thus Rāma showed to Sītā the boundaries of the land of Kośala that was gifted to Ikṣvāku by Manu a long time ago.  In a passionate voice, Rāma addressed the charioteer: “O Sūta, hopefully someday I would come back with my parents to wander around for hunting in these well blossomed forests!”  Then he corrected himself:  “Actually I do not desire much in hunting in these forests!  This is meant for the enjoyment of the royal sages.  The hunting was made a sport for the benefit of royal sages only!  The sons of Manu adopted it in course of time and passed it on to others who played with the bows.  I am not much desirous of hunting.”

Thus exchanging sweet words with the charioteer, the scion of Ikṣvāku proceeded forward to the forest.

Chapter XLIX ends in 18 stanzas.

Chapter L        

After passing through the beautiful vistas of Kośala, Rāma took a break and looked back towards Ayodhyā. Folding his arms in humility, he reminisced: “I beg leave of you, O’ great land nurtured by King Daśaratha.  I bow down to all the deities that reside the land!  After fulfilling my obligations to the King in completing the exile, I shall see you again in the company of my parents.”  The copper-eyed prince got emotional.  He raised his right arm up and addressed the assembled people.  He had tear-filled eyes and a depressed look.  Chokingly he said: “You all have been very kind and respectful to me.  It is bad that you suffer because of me.  Let me request you to go back to work and remain productive.”  Some of the assembled men were wailing severely.  All went around him in pradakṣiṇa.  Though they were crying hard, Rāma moved forward out of their sight.  It was like the sun disappearing as night commencing!

Rāma’s chariot passed through the prosperous countryside.  People were kind, there was no fear.  He saw beautiful temples, sacrificial areas, and a scatter of gardens and ponds.  There were mango groves with herds of cows.  All were happy and healthy; vedic chanting echoed in the villages.  The land appeared just right to be ruled by a king.  These territories were ruled by various chiefs.  Then he saw the beautiful river Gaṅgā.  The river flowed cool and clean.  It served as a resource to the hermits residing in her banks. There were well-built hermitages nearby; the scene appropriate for the celestial nymphs to descend in order to use the water in many of its pools!  The river was equally adorned by the celestials, the demons, the Gandharvas and the Kinnaras.  The Naga and Gandharva women came to use the river all the time.  There were hundreds of hills and gardens strewn around.   The great river had descended from the heavens for the benefit of the celestials and was called devapadminī.  The strike of waters made huge noise while the foam appeared like sweet laughter.  Somewhere water flowed in braids and somewhere it would be whirling.  Somewhere the flow would be slow and deep, and somewhere it would be rapid and shallow.  Somewhere the noise would be high, and somewhere else it would be dreadfully quiet!   The celestials took dip in this water that was scattered with lotus pools.  Somewhere there would be wide banks, somewhere there would be extended white sand!

Gaṅgā was beautiful.  Water was covered with the noisy swans and cranes.   The mysterious cakravāka birds played around.  Other colorful and joyful birds dipped on her waters.  The trees on the banks decorated the river as a garland.  There were blue lotus pools, sometimes a whole lotus forest.  With colorful flowers painted around, Gaṅgā looked like a woman in passion.  The river flowed from the feet of the Lord Viṣṇu.  Her waters washed away the sins of people; the water stayed clean as a crystal.  Elephants guarded her quarters; wild elephants roamed her forests.  Tame elephants walked on the banks of the river in order to carry the entourage of Indra to the forest.  She was like a woman carefully decorated with the best of jewels.  Covered with trees, plants, fruits, flowers, shrubs, and birds, the sinless river washed away the earthly sins.  In deeper waters, there were sharks, snakes and crocodiles. They had fallen from the matted locks of Lord S’iva invited because of the austerities of King Bhagiratha.

Rāma reached river Gaṅgā near the land of S’ṛṁgaverapura.  The river looked majestic roaring with the sounds of swans and cranes.  Excited with the waves and ripples on the river, he advised Sumantra “Dear Charioteer! Let us halt here for the day.  Not too far is that Iṅgudī tree laden with flowers and blossoms.  We will stay there.  I wish to view the most auspicious river that benefits us all, the humans, the Gandharvas, the animals, the snakes and the birds!”  Both Lakṣmaṇa and Sumantra approved.  They drove the chariot up to the Iṅgudī  tree.  Ram alighted from the chariot with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa near that beautiful tree.  Sumantra got down and released the horses from the chariot.  Then he stood with folded palms in front of Rāma who sat under the tree.

There existed a King in that area named Guha, who was a good friend to Rāma.  He was a powerful man of Niṣāda caste, who was well known as a builder.  Having heard that Rāma had arrived in his area, he came to meet him together with his elder ministers and relatives.  Seeing the King of the Niṣāda from a distance, Rāma walked up with Lakṣmaṇa to greet him.  He hugged Guha, who looked distressed having heard the news of exile.  Guha returned the greetings: “Treat this place as your Ayodhyā.  Please tell me what can I do for you?  Who would get a guest like this in his whole life?”  He quickly collected well cooked food of various kinds and offered water to wash hands.  Then he said “Welcome to this land, o’ great man!  Think that this entire land is yours.  We are your servants, you are our Master.  Please rule this land as you wish.  Here are various kinds of food for you and for your horses.  And, here are the beds.”  Hearing Guha’s request, Rāma responded: “We are honored by your walking the distance to meet us in affection.  We are pleased.” With a hard embrace to Guha he said “I am glad to see you healthy with your family.  Is all good in your land, your friends and forests?”  Then he said “I do not accept the gifts that you have brought so lovingly for me.  Please take them back.  I have taken a vow to put on a dress of kuśa grass and deer skin, and survive on the roots and fruits as an ascetic in the forest.  Only I need the fodder for the horses.  I would feel duly entertained with those provisions of yours.  These horses belong to my father King Daśaratha.  I would feel honored if they are properly taken care of.”  Guha ordered his people to arrange food and drinks for the horses immediately.

Then Rāma did the dusk sandhyā worship facing west.   For food, he took only water that was obtained by Lakṣmaṇa.  Having washed Rāma’s and Sītā’s feet as they lay on the ground, Lakṣmaṇa sat near another tree close by.  The great bowman Guha made his bow ready and kept vigil for Rāma joined by Lakṣmaṇa and Sumantra.  In this manner, Rāma, the illustrious and learned son of Daśaratha, who was raised in all comforts and had never undergone any difficulties, passed the night away.

Chapter L ends in 51 stanzas.

Chapter LI

Because Lakṣmaṇa loved his brother very much, he kept a vigil in the night and stayed awake.  The much distressed Guha said to him: “This soft bed is prepared for you, please sleep on it in comfort.  We are used to take hardship, but you are not.  We would keep vigil for the night guarding Rāma.  Nobody on earth is dearer to me than him.  I am telling you the truth and I swear by it.  Through his grace, I would fetch great renown in the world as well as religious merit including ample wealth.   I with my relatives would guard my dear friend with bow in hand.  Because we wander around in this forest all the time, nothing here is unknown to us.  We can defeat any army however strong and powerful that comes at us!”

Lakṣmaṇa responded: “Because of you, who remain steadfast in your work, we feel safe.  We are not fearful.  How can I sleep and have comforts in life when the brother Rāma and Sītā are lying on the ground? Look at him!  Whom Devas and Asuras together cannot defeat in a battle, is sleeping happily on grass with his wife!  Through various austerities and sacred rituals, he was obtained by Daśaratha. He has characteristics similar to our father.  Once he is exiled to the forest, the King would not live long.  The earth herself would surely become a widow very soon. The women in the city must be tired after wailing loud.  The palace could be quiet after the commotion.  It could be hard for Kauśalyā, the King and my mother to survive this night.  My mother might survive waiting to meet Satrughna, but she would be utterly pained in case Kauśalyā passes away.  The happiness of loyal subjects in Ayodhyā would be destroyed with the King’s death!”

“How does the King hold on to his life when he is unable to see his eldest son?  Once the King dies, Kauśalyā would perish, and after that, my mother would go.  Having not succeeded in installing Rāma on the throne, my father would pass away sounding “It’s lost!” “It’s lost!”  Some lucky people would be there who would help perform the last rites for the King.  On the other hand, if he lives through, people would be moving around on the divided highways, the mansions and houses would look elegant with courtesans, the elephants and the horses would parade around with loud play of the musical instruments, the gardens would look peaceful, there would be social festivities, happy and prosperous people would be walking around in pleasure and gaiety. If he lives through we would see him on our return from the exile.  Let us hope that we successfully complete our journey to fulfill the vow of truth and return to Ayodhyā safe and well.”

With Lakṣmaṇa sharing such anxiety, the night slowly passed away.  His expressions were sincere; he shared his feelings in trust.  Guha was sentimental.  He cried.  Tears filled in his eyes looking like an elephant suffering from fever!

Chapter LI ends in 27 stanzas.

Chapter LII

Early next morning, the noble Rāma spoke to Lakṣmaṇa: “Dear brother, the night has passed; it is the auspicious time of sunrise.  The cuckoo is cooing in distance.  The sound of the peacocks in the forest is heard.  It is time we proceed. We cross over the fast flowing river Gaṅgā.”  Lakṣmaṇa communicated Rāma’s intent to Guha, then to Sumantra.  Addressing Rāma’s wish, Guha called over his Ministers and ordered: “Please bring over quickly a well-built boat equipped with oars and the boatman.”  Guha’s Minister departed and arranged an excellent boat and stationed it at the landing site right away.  With folded palms Guha submitted to Rama “O immortal soul, O Observer of noble vows! The boat is ready.  Please ride the boat to cross over the river.  Please tell us what more we can do.” The illustrious Rāma obliged “We are grateful to you.  We will ride the boat soon.”

Equipping themselves with armor and fastening with bows with arrows, the two brothers Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa proceeded to the landing site along with Sītā.   The charioteer humbly stood next with folded hands waiting for further instruction.  He asked “What is my next task?”  Rāma touched him with his right hand in a sign of compliment.  Then he said “Sumantra, please return to the King quickly without being distracted.  This much is enough service for me.  We leave the chariot here.  We proceed to the great forest by foot.”  The charioteer was terribly sad to hear of this imminent separation.   He exclaimed: “Your proceeding to the forest with your brother and wife in order to lead the life of a forest settler is unheard of in this world!  I do not think any austerities or reading of the scriptures or any cultivation of compassion and straightforwardness are useful when adversity strikes us.  O’ Rāghava, residing in the forest with wife Sītā and brother Lakṣmaṇa would give you much glory as having won over all the three worlds!  Separated from you, we would be distressed.  We would be ruined under the control of evil Kaikeyī.”  Having expressed his sentiment in this manner, Sumantra started crying.  Seeing Rāma walking away further, he erupted into a long and loud wailing!

Sumantra’s soaking tears took time to dry up.   He sipped some water to pacify himself.  Rāma consoled him with these sweet words: “Nobody else appears to be as trustworthy to the Ikṣvāku clan as you are.  Please act in such a manner that the King Daśaratha is not perturbed about me.  His mind is heavy with grief; he is old.  He is exhausted with the work having spent his life busy with the kingdom.  Hence I am telling you this.  Please do everything unhesitatingly as he would ask you to do such that Kaikeyī remains pleased.  Kings rule their land such that their orders are not violated.  Please work in such a manner that the King does not get displeased, nor does he suffer grief.  After greeting the old and honorable king who has never seen grief in his life, you speak the following on my behalf:  ‘Neither I or Lakṣmaṇa or Sītā feel sorry that we have been exiled from Ayodhyā, and that we are going to reside in the forest.  When fourteen years would pass by, you would see me, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā back in the kingdom without delay!’  After speaking to my father and my mother and to all other queens including Kaikeyī, please tell my mother that ‘My health is good.’  Please convey my respects at her feet as well as those of Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa.  Please advise the King to call back Bharata soon and install him as the King as soon as he arrives. Please tell him ‘By accepting Bharata and installing him as the King, the grief caused by our separation would reduce.’  Bharata should also be told ‘to treat all mothers as you would treat your father.  Even as Kaikeyī and Sumitrā are equally worthy of respect by you, so is my mother Kauśalyā.  If you accept the throne with the good wish of our father, you would reap happiness in this world and the next, all the time!’”

Sumantra humbly heard Rāma’s counsel asking him to return back.  He responded: “Please forgive me in case I have said something in affection and not in respect.  How do I return back to Ayodhyā?  The city would be in a painful state like a mother separated from her son.  People were very unhappy when I left with you in the chariot, now they would be torn apart not to see you back!  People would feel miserable by seeing the empty chariot.  It would appear as the warrior was killed in the battle and the charioteer was left behind.  Even though you are far away, many would be skipping food just thinking of you.  O’ Rāma, you have yourself seen the remorse of people as they learned of your exile.  People would wail a hundred times more by not seeing you return!  What shall I tell your mother?  Do I tell her that her son is visiting his uncle’s house?  I cannot make such a false statement!  And how do I tell the truth which no one would like?  These excellent horses are engaged only for you in carrying you and your family.  How would they drive the chariot without you?  O’ Sinless Rāma, I cannot return to Ayodhyā without you!  Please allow me to follow you to the forest along with you.  Using the chariot, I would take care of the obstacles that might appear against you in the forest! In case you abandon me here, I will sacrifice myself entering the fire along with the chariot!  I have been lucky to drive the chariot for you through your kind grace; I wish to enjoy the pleasure of residing with you in the forest!  Please be kind to me, I wish to serve you in the forest.  I wish to hear you say ‘Do become my close assistant!’  If these horses also can serve you, they would find liberation when they die.  I would most humbly serve you in the forest and I would not care for Ayodhyā or the heavens.  I am incapable of entering Ayodhyā without you like the capital of Indra is inaccessible to a sinner.  It is my desire that I would take you back to Ayodhyā when your exile in the forest would come to an end.  When I stay with you, the fourteen years would pass by like an instant; otherwise they would appear hundred-fold longer.  You are always kind to your dependents.  You ought not abandon me.  I stay resolved to act as a devoted servant to the son of my master!”

The pitiable Sumantra expressed his request in various ways repeatedly.  Rāma, who always feels for his servants, responded: “O’ Friendly Sumantra, I know of your supreme devotion to me.  Let me explain to you why I am sending you back to Ayodhyā.  Seeing you returned to the capital, my youngest co-mother Kaikeyī would believe that I have left for the forest.  Otherwise the discontented Kaikeyī would tout the King as a liar even though I am exiled in the forest.  This is my first intent that my youngest co-mother obtains the kingdom with her son Bharata installed as the king.  For my benefit and for the sake of the King, please go to Ayodhyā and convey the messages to all as I have instructed.”  Consoling Sumantra in this manner, Rāma reasoned with Guha: “It is not right for me to reside with my own people in the forest.  It is the rule to stay in a hermitage, so is my duty.  By adopting the rules appropriate of the ascetics and approved by Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa I would create my own matted locks and proceed forward.  I need some sap from a banyan tree.”  Guha fetched that sap quickly from a tree.  With that Rāma with his extended arms created the ascetic locks for him and for Lakṣmaṇa.  With complex knots of hair on their heads and being clad in bark of the trees, the two brothers glowed like two ascetic sages.

Having adopted the ascetic path along with Lakṣmaṇa, Rāma gave the following parting instructions to Guha: “Be alert in the matter of your army, treasury, fort and people.  Please know that a kingdom happens to be the most difficult to protect!”  Thus speaking to Guha, Rāma proceeded quickly forward with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa.  Seeing the boat on the bank of Gaṅgā, he was anxious to cross over the river.  He instructed to Lakṣmaṇa the following: “Please get to the boat slowly and hold it steady.  Give a hand to weak Sītā and let her ride.”  Hearing his brother’s instructions, Lakṣmaṇa let Sītā ride the boat first; he followed next.  Then Rāma rode the boat.  Guha, the King of the Niṣādas asked his relatives to move the boat.  While on the boat, Rāma recited scriptural texts as appropriate for the Brāhmins and the Kṣatriyas for the sake of warding off any mishaps.  As per the scriptural instructions, he took a sip of the river water along with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa, and offered his respects in gratitude.  Lakṣmaṇa also offered respects.  Begging leave of Sumantra, Guha and his army, Rāma urged the boatmen to row the boat.  The rowed boat directed by the helmsman and supported by the swift currents in the river moved rapidly through.

When they reached the middle of the river, the pious Sītā offered a prayer to the river: “O’ Gaṅgā, may you protect this son of the wise King Daśaratha in order that he can satisfy the King’s vow.  O’ Blessed Gaṅgā, you fulfill all desires.  I shall offer you satisfactory worship when he returns back to your banks with me and his brother after spending fourteen years in the forest.  O’ goddess, you travel in three ways together in the Brahmaloka and you appear as the wife of the Ocean-king on this earth.  O’ Charming River, I bow down to you and extoll you.  When we get back our land, I will offer a hundred thousand cows along with clothes and food to the Brāhmins in order to please you.  I will worship you with a thousand pitchers of wine with meat and cooked rice.  I will worship all the deities that reside over your banks as well as all the pilgrim centers and the religious sites.  O’ Sinless Gaṅgā, bless us such that the great pious Rāma may reenter Ayodhyā after his exile.”

While Sītā offered these prayers, the boat reached the southern bank of the river.  Rāma left the boat and gathered together with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā.   Then he told Lakṣmaṇa “Be ready to protect Sītā in all areas, inhabited or uninhabited.  It is my duty to protect you all in the uninhabited lands; you please walk in the front and let Sītā follow you.  I would follow at the end such that I can protect you and Sītā.  My dear jewel among men! we must protect each other!  No untoward events have happened so far, but Sītā would experience the pain of living in the forest today!  The land here is barren and uneven.  She would encounter the bushes and the waterfalls today.”  Hearing Rāma’s words, Lakṣmaṇa advanced to the front and Sītā followed him.

Sumantra had been gazing the departing Rāma from the other side.  He was remorseful losing the view of the party.  He shed tears profusely.  Rāma, the noble soul of incomparable fortitude, proceeded further towards the prosperous croplands in the kingdom of Vatsa.  The brothers were hungry.  They killed four large deers: Varāha, Rśya, Pṛṣata and Mahāruru, fit for sacrifice.  Then they took rest under a tree for the night.

Chapter LII ends in 102 stanzas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 19, Ayodhyākāṇḍa Chapters XLI – XLVII

This is our nineteenth session; the date is March 30, 2014. This year has seen more than average snowfall in Boston. Though it is past the equinox, there is fair amount of snow left on the ground; air is cold. Every year since 1994 we have been doing an annual recitation of Gosvāmī Tulasī Dāsa’s S’rīRāmacaritamānasa in the local S’rīlakṣmī Temple and the preparation for the event is on. Indian festivals are in principle literary activities. Recitation gives an environment to reflect on life. Tulasīrāmāyaṇa as the book is popularly called is a staple among Indian immigrants from north India.

We are meeting in the small classroom of the Sai Temple these days leaving the shrine area for other Temple activities. Six to eight people normally join us in our reading, hence the classroom is right space. Surendrabhai showed up along with Kaladhar and Vijaya. Arun Karna joins. Ravi, Janmejay and Hemant from the Sanskrit class are also there.

We are entering the difficult phase of Rāmayaṇa when Rāma is leaving for the forest. Rāma’s decision appears ad hoc, his rationale is to protect the truthfulness of his father. The logic of the decision dealing with after-life and the follow up difficult events would appear not helpful to the modern mind. It is quite possible that Vālmīki is following a previous story line and not analyzing as he normally does. While everyone feels bereaved, Rāma is steadfast in his resolve.

Some of the sections in these chapters would have great melody if sung with good voice. Various wailings, chats and outbursts have a great drama and rhythmic diction built into them. Vālmīki seems to be the master storyteller driving the emotion through various arrangements of words and phrase repetitions. The mood is pure grief.

We begin our reading about 3:20 PM.

Chapter XLI

At the time Rāma bade farewell to all and left the palace, loud sobs and wailings were heard from the inner quarters. “Where does that Lord go who has been a support to the weak, the helpless and the distressed?” “Where does that the even-tempered Rama go, who never gets angry even when called names and who pacifies all who are angry?” “Where does that noble soul go, who in spite of being of exceptional glory treated us in the same manner as to his own mother Kauśalyā?” “Where is our Rāma, who is the protector of the whole world?” “Look he is being sent away to the forest by the King conspired by Kaikeyī. How thoughtless the King is who is sending away to forest the virtuous Rāma, the support of the entire living world, who always abides by the truth?” Immersed in immense grief the queens wailed loudly. The wailings appeared like those of helpless cows when separated from their calves!

The King heard these loud wailings inside. Already tormented with the grief caused by his son’s separation, the King was further distressed hearing the frightful lamentations. Everything came to a stand- still in the kingdom. No priest did any oblation, no householder cooked any food; none did any business! The sun itself disappeared! The elephants dropped grass from their mouth; the cows did not feed their calves! The mothers even did not cheerfully welcome their firstborn boy! The Asteroid belt, Mars, Jupiter and Mercury conjoined with the Moon assuming a very unfavorable configuration. The stars lost their glitter; the planets lost their shine. Misaligned, they showed up hazy in the sky. A massive cloud appeared in the sky driven by fierce winds. It looked like an agitated ocean rocking the city! All directions were covered up and it was dark everywhere. No planets or stars shed slightest light! Misery engulfed the citizens, nobody had any interest if food or recreation! Sighing deeply and distressed with grief, the people in Ayodhyā went on cursing the King. People traveling on road had tearful eyes. Nobody was happy; all were plunged in grief!

The air did not blow. The moon did not look good. The sun had no heat! Everything appeared distressed. The sons did not care for their mothers; the husbands had little to do with their wives. The brothers had no use for each other. Abandoning everything everybody thought about Rāma only. All of Rāma’s friends were perplexed in their minds. Overwhelmed with grief they barely slept in the nights! Bereaved of Rāma, Ayodhyā was frightfully disturbed like the earth’s mountains would when not guarded by the Great Indra. Elephants, horses and battle-ready warriors joined in the tumultuous noise!

Chapter XLI ends in 21 stanzas.

Chapter XLII

King Daśaratha, the scion of Ikṣvāku clan, kept looking in the direction of the chariot until the dust cloud remained visible. As the King reflected on the most virtuous Rāma on the chariot, his desire to see his son back again became more intense. When he could not see the dust any more, he broke down and dropped down on the ground. He was utterly remorseful. Kauśalyā tried to support him through her arms in the right. The younger Kaikeyī picked up the other side. The distressed King, prudent, righteous and humble, shouted to Kaikeyī: “You sinful Kaikeyī, keep away from touching me! I do not wish to see you. You are neither my wife nor my friend. I have nothing to do with you or anyone who depends on you. I disown you. You are evil and self-centered. I disclaim any merit through my marriage to you in this life or the next. Remember, in case Bharata assumes this eternal land, let him not offer ritual oblations for the departed ancestors in order to reach me!” Herself in deep distress, Kauśalyā tried to lift up the king who was totally dishevelled in dust. The king constantly reflected on his son. He was deeply tormenting. He repented as that man who might have killed a Brahmana accidentally, or had put hands on fire without knowing! Repeatedly looking back in the direction of the chariot, the King was spiritless. It was like an eclipse that shrouded the sun.

The King wailed loudly remembering Rāma. When told that the chariot might have reached the outskirts of the city, he cried out his remorse. “What a pity! I do see the hoof marks of the brilliant horses that carried my son, but I am unable to see my noble son! My son, who gets smeared with sandal paste and rests on comfortable mattresses being fanned by beautiful ladies, would be sleeping tonight under some tree using a block of wood or stone to support his head! He would be getting up in the morning covered in dust, sighing audibly like an elephant coming out from a drink of water in the stream! The forest-dwellers would be seeing the mighty Rāma, the protector of the world, walking without any support! That lovely daughter of Janaka, who deserves all happiness, would be exhausted today walking on the thorny forest paths with bare feet! Unaquainted to the forest, she would be getting scared to hear the frightful roars of the wild beasts! O’ Kaikeyī, let your wish be fulfilled! You stay as a widow in the kingdom! I have no interest to live a moment without the company of my son, the bravest among men!”

Thus lamenting, and surrounded by servants on all sides, the King entered the town. The town was drenched in sorrow as though a strong mishap had taken place. Nobody was seen on the outdoor platforms, none on the cross-roads. The shop shutters were drawn. People appeared weak, depressed and exhausted. The traffic on the road was pitiably light! Seeing such depressed state of the town and thinking of Rāma only, the King entered the palace like the sun would enter to hide under the clouds. Without Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā, the palace appeared inactive as a big lake when the snakes are removed by Garuḍa! Continuing his lamentations, the King spoke to his attendants in a soft faltering voice: “I do not feel like staying anywhere. Please take me over to Kauśalyā’s quarters.” Thus ordered, the attendants helped him to get to Kauśalyā’s quarters and seated him on a couch in a gentle manner.

The King, though in Kauśalyā ’s quarters and lying on the couch, continued to feel restless. Without the two sons and the daughter-in-law, the palace looked barren like the sky without the moon. Raising his arms, the powerful King yelled at a high voice: “Rāma, are you abandoning both of us! Those people are only happy who would be living through and can hug you after your return.” The night fell and it appeared like the night of doom. At midnight, the King Daśaratha spoke to Kauśalyā: “O’ Kauśalyā, I cannot see you. Please touch me with your hands. By following Rāma’s chariot during the day, my sight is blinded.” Observing such pitiable condition of the King who was thinking of Rāma all the time, and was having difficulty in breathing, Kauśalyā sat by his side herself extremely grief-stricken. She started crying.

Chapter XLII ends in 34 stanzas.

Chapter XLIII

Kauśalyā expressed her frustration to the King sorrowfully lying on the couch. “By releasing her poison on the valiant Rāma, Kaikeyī would be wandering as a free snake that shed its cast. Having succeeded in exiling Rāma, she would now go after me like a wicked serpent nesting in one’s own house! Even if Rāma was allowed to live in the city living on alms would have been preferable to me, or I could have offered my son as a slave to Kaikeyī to do chores for her. By throwing Rāma off from the city, Kaikeyī has acted as one who offers oblations to the evils on a full moon day. My son, the great bow-man who walks majestically like a lovely royal elephant, must have reached the forest by now along with his wife and Lakṣmaṇa. I cannot imagine what unseen miseries would fall on the exiled children that you have lumped in order to please Kaikeyī!”

“They are deprived from their life’s luxuries while they should have been enjoying the prime of life. How would they operate in forest miserly feeding on fruits and roots? Would there be a time when I would see my Rāma along with his wife and brother? Would my grief ever come to an end? When would Ayodhyā regain back her glory with joyful people and tall banners by hearing the arrival of the two heroes? When would the town get back to life as the ocean dances on the full moon days? When would my mighty-armed son re-enter Ayodhyā back? When would I see him place Sītā in front of the chariot and follow like a bull behind a cow? When would thousands of people greet the two brothers on the main road throwing auspicious parched rice flakes at them? When would I see the two brothers well dressed with their ear-ornaments hanging and with bows and swords fastened, re-enter Ayodhyā like two massive mountains crowned with peaks? When would the children happily tour around the town receiving flowers from the girls and fruits from the Brahmins? When would that noble soul, ripe in age and intellect, nurture the kingdom like a good shower nourishing the land?”

“I am convinced that in some past life, I am guilty of cutting away the nipples of the cows while their calves were waiting for milk. Kaikeyī has forcibly deprived me of my child as a lion would take away a young calf from the mother! I have only one son, who is the master of all scriptures and is endowed with all qualities. I am unable to survive without him. By not seeing the power and strength of my dear son and Lakṣmaṇa, I have little capacity to survive! This fire, born of grief caused by the separation from my son is extremely harmful to me. It is torturing me as the life-giving Sun burns up the earth with its rays in the summer!”

Chapter XLIII ends in 21 stanzas.

Chapter XLIV

Observing the most celebrated Kauśalyā lamenting hard, the righteous Sumitrā tried to console her with reason. “O’ respected sister, your son is endowed with all good qualities and is considered the best among men. Why do you lament and cry so pitifully? Your mighty son has renounced the throne in order to fulfill the vow of his noble father. Rāma always follows righteousness. Strong ethical people follow such path; it rewards them in their next life. Rāma is the best. You should not worry at all. He is blessed with the presence of my ever sin-less Lakṣmaṇa who is kind to all beings and who offers excellent service to him. Sītā deserves all comfort, but she has voluntarily departed to the forest following your pious son. Your son is bound to truth and righteousness. Your son has merited all blessing; his fame has spread throughout the world. Knowing his purity and nobility, the sun would refrain from burning him with its rays! A gentle breeze of moderate temperature would always blow from the forest and would soothe him! A cool moon would hug him like a father wiping away the day’s heat when resting at night!”

“He has been rewarded with special weapons by the Sage Viśvāmitra when he killed the son of the demon Timidhvaja in battle. He is indeed self-reliant. Defiant as he is, he would easily make the forest as his new home. When the enemies get destroyed by his arrows, how would the earthly creatures not accept his rule? The grace, the strength and the generosity that make Rāma, would make him regain his throne immediately after returning from the forest. He is the light of the Sun and the ignition in the fire. He is the endowment in the endowed and the glory in the glorious. He is indeed the forgiveness in the act of forgiving! He is the divinity in the Divine and he is the most endowed among all created beings. What would lack in him either in the forest or at home? Along with the trio of Sītā, the Earth and S’rīlakṣmī, Rāma would be consecrated to the throne pretty soon. All people in Ayodhyā are immersed in intense sorrow to know that Rāma has departed for the forest. All are shedding tears of grief. S’rīlakṣmī as Sītā follows this invincible hero clad in the forest dress of kuśa grass! What would be lacking for him? What else would he need when the great bowman Lakṣmaṇa himself walks in front of him carrying weapons, swords and arrows! I am convinced that you would see him on return from his exile in the forest. O’ Devī, please get rid of your sorrow and attachment! You would see your son bowing down at your feet and greet you like the rising moon soon. By seeing him returned and installed on the throne, you would have tears of joy! Rāma cannot have any misfortune, please do not grieve or feel sad. You would see him back soon along with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa! My noble sister, how do you hold grief in your heart at a time when you are supposed to offer comfort to all those grief stricken people in the town? There is none in the whole world more virtuous than Rāma. As the mother of this great son you should not grieve at all! You would shed tears of joy like the monsoon clouds pouring rain by seeing your son greet you with his friends. Your blessed son would come back to Ayodhyā quickly and would engage himself to press your feet with his gentle hands. By greeting your heroic son and his friends, you would bathe him in your tears as the clouds drench a mountain!”

Having consoled Kauśalyā with kind words and expressions, the charming Sumitrā rested herself. Hearing those consoling words, the grief that had occupied Kauśalyā’s mind disappeared like an autumnal cloud that contains little water!

Chapter XLIV ends in 31 stanzas.

Chapter XLV

People close to Rāma followed him on his way to the forest. Though the King was forced to return back by the friends against his desire, the townspeople did not turn back. They followed the chariot to have a glimpse of the illustrious Rāma. Endowed with all good qualities he was loved as the full moon! Though begged heartily, he was determined to keep his father’s word and pressed on to the forest! Looking back at people with affection, he spoke to them kindly as addressing them as his own children. “It would please me if the love and respect that you have bestowed on me be directed to Bharata! He is of benevolent conduct and is the joy to Kaikeyī. He would do work for you for your liking and for your welfare. Though young in age, he is rich in knowledge. Though soft at heart, he is heroic by nature. He would be the proper protector for you to keep you safe. He is endowed with the royal qualities. He would be installed as the Crown Prince. You should follow him either through royal decree or as advised by me! I would be pleased if the King himself is not agonized when I am gone to the forest.”

More Rāma leaned towards upholding his vow of truth, more was people’s desire to get him back as their ruler! Rāma and Lakshmana had drawn themselves into those afflicted teary-eyed people as though bound by a cord! A few Brahmins, ripe in age, knowledge and chastity, whose heads were shaking because of old age, spoke falteringly from a distance as follows. “O’ Swift horses, please return back. Do not proceed further. Please be good to your master. All creatures with ears listen to our prayers, special are the horses. Please do return. Your master is pure at heart, he is strongly determined. He is a hero. Please do carry him around, but do not take him away to the forest!” By hearing such heart-felt words from the old Brahmins, Rāma stopped suddenly and got down from the chariot. He walked on foot with short steps along with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā, but remained determined to proceed to the forest. Because he liked the Brahmins, he could not disrespect their desire to catch up with him. Noticing that Rāma kept moving, the richly endowed Brahmins spoke to him expressing their sorrow. “Since you are kind to the Brahmins, the entire Brahmin community is following you. The sacred fire along with the container vessels are also following. Look at these Vājapeya canopies we carry, they look like white clouds in an autumn day. Since you do not carry a canopy yourself, we would protect you from the hot sun with these canopies. Our minds, which had been engaged in learning the Vedas and the Mantras, are now dedicated to you to follow you to the forest! The Vedas are our supreme property and we carry them in our hearts. Our wives are home protecting our property and family. We are fully determined to follow you to the forest. If you would deflect from the path of righteousness, who else would be there to follow it? Our heads are covered with white hair like those of swans and are soiled with dust by prostrating on the ground. We pray that you return back. Many Brahmins had begun their sacrificial rituals. The sacrifices are interrupted since they join us here. The completion of the sacrifices depends on your return. All created beings, both animate and inanimate, are devoted to you. Please show your affection to your prayerful devotees. The tall trees, which are stuck by their roots, are showing their emotion by noise generated with the winds! Birds, which are unable to move and sit in one place on a tree, are begging you as compassionate to all beings.”

While being appealed by the Brahmins in this manner, they reached the River Tamasā. The river retarded their journey. Sumantra got down from the chariot and released the tired horses quickly. He let them have a drink of water and let them take a swim in the river. Afterwards, he let them graze on the nearby fields.

Chapter XLV ends in 33 stanzas.

Chapter XLVI

Lying down at the beautiful banks of Tamasā, Rāma looked at Sītā and reflected. He expressed his thoughts to Lakṣmaṇa. “This is the first night we are out of home. Please do not feel anxious about the conditions. Look, all the beasts and animals are seeking after their shelters. The empty forest appears like crying. Certainly, men and women in the city of Ayodhyā, the capital of my father’s kingdom, would think about us tonight. People are devoted to the King in many ways, as they are to you, me, Bharata and S’atrughna. I do get concerned about my father and my illustrious mother. Let them not lose their eyesight by weeping too much. Bharata is a righteous man. I feel good thinking that he would console my parents with the words of righteousness, purpose and desire. Reflecting on the kind-heartedness of Bharata, my worries are reduced. You indeed have served a great purpose by following me. I would have looked for help to assist with Sītā’s needs. Even though other forest foods are available let me live on water tonight; it is to my liking.”

After speaking to Lakṣmaṇa, Rāma did speak to Sumantra: “Dear Soumya, you need not bother about us. Please attend to the horses!” Sumantra brought the horses back and took care of them by fastening them. He gave them enough grass to eat. The sun having set, he returned to meet Rāma. After offering the evening prayers, he tried to make the sleeping arrangements with the help of Lakṣmaṇa. They created a bed out of tree leaves on the banks of the river. Rāma lay down on it along with Sītā. Seeing the exhausted Rāma and Sītā in deep sleep, Lakṣmaṇa began a conversation with the charioteer narrating the many noble qualities of Rāma. Thus recounting at that river bank, Lakṣmaṇa kept awake through the night and it was sunrise. Rāma spent that night in the lap of nature with the cow herds seen grazing at a distance on the river bank. Getting up, Rāma saw the city people resting nearby. He said: “Lakṣmaṇa, look, the citizens have left their houses and are resting under the trees in order to see us. It appears from their effort to make us return back that they might give away their lives but not get rid of their resolve. Let us leave on our chariot in a less troublesome direction such that the citizens do not have to sleep under the trees again. The royal princes should only help to take away the pains of the subjects. They must not burden them as is happening now.” Lakṣmaṇa agreed with Rāma. “What you said makes sense to me. Please do ride the chariot quickly.”

Rāma advised to Sumantra: “Please set up the chariot soon. We have to reach the forest. Let us leave this place quickly!” Sumantra set up the steed horses and fixing everything spoke to Rāma with folded arms: “O’ Prince, your chariot is ready. You can ride with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa. Let all be good with you!” Mounting the chariot Rāma and the group crossed over the swift-flowing Tamasā river. On the other side of the river they did find a road which appeared smooth and uncluttered. In order to confuse the citizens he advised Sumantra “Please ride the chariot alone and go forward in northerly direction. Do return back after a short while. Drive the chariot in such a way that the citizens would not be able to locate me!” Sumantra did as instructed and returned back to pick them up again.

Sumantra put the chariot facing north before proceeding as a sign of auspiciousness! Sītā along with the Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa rode the chariot. Placing himself on the chariot the great Rāma proceeded along with the charioteer and family. The charioteer drove the horses swiftly on road to the forest.

Chapter XLVI ends in 34 stanzas

Chapter XLVII

By not seeing Rāma and the chariot in the morning, the citizens were extremely perturbed. They looked around with teary eyes. There was no trace of Rāma. Extremely aggrieved and with pain-stricken faces, they blamed themselves for their ill luck. “Let our sleep be cursed that deprived us to have a look at the broad-chested mighty-armed Rāma! How did Rāma, who does everything in a reasoned manner, leave his devotees and proceed to the exile as an ascetic? How did that greatest of the Raghu clan leave his subjects whom he always cared for as his own children? What use we have now to live without Rāma? We must die right here while in our noble pursuit! There is a large amount of dry wood around. Let us light a funeral pyre and enter into it! How do we say to others that the great Rāma, who speaks sweetly and is never jealous to anyone, was sent away to the forest under our very watch? How are we capable to say such things? By seeing us returning without Rāma, the whole town would assume a wretched look. All people including women, children and the aged would be extremely unhappy. We had been going out with that hero every day. How would we visit the city again without Rāma?”

Holding their arms together, those grief-stricken men wailed out their sorrow like the cows who lose their calves. They followed the path of the chariot for some distance and were extremely perplexed to find that the tracks were lost. They returned back following the tracks and thought to themselves “What should we do now? The luck has turned against us!” Exhausted as they were, they trekked back on the same path they had taken and reached the town where all good people were grieving. Reaching the town, they felt more sorrowful. They had anxious minds; they shed tears profusely. “The town does not look good without Rāma. It feels as though Garuḍa has taken away the snake from the lake! It feels like the sky without the moon. It is like the sea without any water!” Seeing the town lifeless, the men felt extremely perturbed.

In their sorrow and grief, they entered their rich and well-supplied houses. But they could not distinguish between their own family people and others though they gazed very carefully. They had lost their joy forever!

Chapter XLVII ends in 19 stanzas.

Day 18, Ayodhyākāṇḍa Chapters XXXVI – XL

This is our eighteenth session; the date is March 9, 2014. I began a year of Sanskrit classes on March 8 to help create more interest to Sanskrit. By being abroad, I think Sanskrit as a language can be a bridge between the cultures. The huge repository of Sanskrit literature is a storehouse of scholarly wisdom, philosophy and a bridge to the heritage. Notes from the Sanskrit class are being archived at http://sanskritdiscussion.wordpress.com

A few students from the class have come by. Others show up. We are on our way to read the difficult part of Rama leaving for the forest. From the bībhatsa episodes with Kaikeyī , we have entered grief, the karuṇa rasa. Daśaratha is distraught, Kauśalyā is heart-broken, all in the palace are wailing. Rāma is determined to fulfill the word. Sītā adds a delicate touch to the episode. She is a newly married bride coming from another home. While she handles herself sportively, the entire exercise is new to her. Kaikeyī ’s arrogance adds fuel to the fire.

With our usual invocations, we continue our reading about 3:20PM.

Chapter XXXVI

Feeling bound through his word, Daśaratha was totally grief-stricken. Tears rolled from his eyes and he sighed deeply. Haltingly he spoke to the charioteer Sumantra. “O’ Sūta, let a platoon consisting of all four sections of the army be arranged to accompany Rāma. Let them all be well decorated with gems. Let the courtesans, musicians, merchants and wealthy people spread out in long lines lend charm to the prince’s entourage. Also engage those who sustain themselves through Rāma’s gratuity and those musclemen with whom Rāma has his fun time. Give them enough gifts, let them join in. Let people carrying weapons, well-known citizens, cartloads of goods and the knowledgeable hunters in the forest follow the scion of Kākutstha. By hunting wild animals and elephants, seeing many rivers and enjoying the wild honey, he would not miss his time in the kingdom. Let my granary and my treasury be transported to the uninhabited forest to enable him to do sacrificial rituals at holy places and to give appropriate gifts to the deserving priests. By courting the company of the sages, he should feel good in the forest. Let Rāma be provided everything desirable. The great fighter Bharata would take care of Ayodhyā!”

Hearing Daśaratha’s above orders, Kaikeyī was disturbed. Her throat dried out and she felt suffocated. Deeply worried, she approached the king and said: “O’ Noble King, a kingdom devoid of its wealth is like wine that has rotted out. Bharata would not appreciate a kingdom that is colorless and empty!” Daśaratha was at a loss to hear such shameless taunts from Kaikeyī . He retorted “Why do you hit me again while I am trying to carry out the heavy task that you have asked me to do! You, the indecent woman! Why did not you talk about this when you asked for your boons?” Hearing such angry words from Daśaratha, Kaikeyī got doubly enraged.  She responded: “King Sagara in your clan had gotten rid of his eldest son Asamañja. It is proper that Rāma be treated in the same manner. ” The King muttered “Dhik!” in exasperation. Everybody present felt the vulgarity of her high-handed insults. She herself did not understand though.

The Chief Minister in the court named Siddhārtha, who was deeply respected by the King, stood up and explained. “The evil-mind Asamañja picked up children playing on the road and enjoyed throwing them to the Sarayū River for fun! All the citizens were upset with this conduct and told the King to either to keep Asamañja alone or keep the citizens by dispatching Asamañja away. The King asked them why they were so scared. Then the citizens narrated what was happening. After hearing the words from people the king got rid of his son in order to please them. By putting him on a chariot with his wife and a few needs, the King ordered his Ministers to send him into exile for life. Taking a shovel and a basket, the son went on searching the mountains and caves in all directions looking for a place to live. King Sagara had gotten rid of his son since he was engaged in a sinful conduct. What sin Rāma has done that he is being blocked out from assuming the throne. We do not see any negative qualities in Rāma; it is difficult to pick anything bad in him! It is like looking for dirt on the disk of the full moon. Otherwise, O’ Queen, please express any fault you see in Rāma, that you think he should be exiled. The crooked person who rejects a person exhibiting right and straightforward conduct extinguishes the glory of Indra. O’ Queen, it is not right to block Rāma’s ascension to fortune. You must protect yourself from the public outcry against your conduct!”

Hearing the tired speech of Siddhārtha, the King got more remorseful. In a voice choked in grief, he said to Kaikeyī : “You, evil incarnation! Do you not like this advice? You do not seem to know what is good for you or what is good for me. You have taken a path that would lead us to misery. You are far removed from the path of righteousness. Renouncing wealth and happiness, I myself would follow Rama to the forest along with all people in the kingdom. You with Bharata can rule the kingdom in your pleasure for whatever time you choose!”
Chapter XXXVI ends in 33 stanzas.

Chapter XXXVII

Rama heard the counsel of the aged Minister with humility. With utter politeness he told King Daśaratha: “I am renouncing everything in order to sustain myself in the wilderness. What good it would be for an army to follow a renunciate like me? One who has given away the best of the elephants, what good he has to hold on to the rope! When we are the best among the truthful people, what good we have for the army? I approve all the possessions to be left behind, let the service-maids bring out the forest dress as appropriate for me. Also let them bring a spade and a basket, I have to live in the forest for fourteen years.” Kaikeyī herself brought forth the bark to be used as the forest attire and most shamelessly said “Put these on!” Rāma collected two pieces of bark from Kaikeyī. Getting rid off the fine clothes he had, he dressed himself like a hermit. Abandoning his own special dress in front of his father, Lakṣmaṇa also covered himself with two pieces of bark like an ascetic.

Looking at the kuśa grass cover obtained for her, Sītā was scared like a doe seeing a noose. Distressed in her mind and in utter shame, she collected the kuśa grass article from Kaikeyī . With tear-filled eyes, she spoke to her husband who looked like the king of the Gandharvas in his new dress. “How do the ascetics and the forest dwellers fasten the grass cover?” Since she did not know, Sītā went on making repeated errors. Putting one piece near the neck and carrying the other by hand, she looked confused. Rāma stepped forward quickly and fastened the grass dress over her clothes. Seeing Rāma helping Sītā with her forest dress, the women in the inner quarters were overwhelmed with emotion, their eyes were flooded with tears of affection. They spoke : “Son, this cultured princess is not ready for an exile in the forest! You are going to the forest to fulfill your father’s words. Please let us continue to look after Sītā in the interim. You operate in the forest with the help of Lakṣmaṇa. The little princess is not ready to be an ascetic in the forest. Please grant our request by letting her stay back with us. You do not want to stay with us bound by righteousness as you are!”Though Rāma heard these pleas from the ladies , he was unperturbed. He went on fixing Sītā’s attire to make her prepare for the forest.

Such drama being played, the Sage Vasiṣṭha was disgusted. He had tears in his eyes. In an agitated voice he said to Kaikeyī: “You, Evil-minded, you are a disgrace to the family. Having betrayed the King, now you are crossing the limits! O’ ill-natured woman, Sītā would not go to the forest. She would assume the throne that was offered to Rāma. The wife indeed is the soul of all house-holders. She would take care of the kingdom as the soul of Rāma. In case Sītā leaves for the forest with Rāma, we and all people would follow her. The guards would go where Rāma lives with his wife. All resources of the kingdom would go along with all goods and objects. Bharata and Satrughna would assume forest dress and conduct themselves in the mode of life that their older brother lives in the forest. You can rule the land devoid of people with only trees standing. Crooked as you are, you exist only to harm people! A state without Rama would not survive. The forest would transform to a state when Rama would inhabit! Bharata would not like to rule a land not given to him by his father. He would not be a son to you since he owes his life to the King. Even if you jump to the heavens from the earth in your apparent glee, Bharata would follow the conduct of his forefathers. Though you like your son, you have done an unkind act towards him. There is no one in the world who does not feel good about Rama. You would see today itself that all animals, beasts, snakes, birds along with the trees would follow Rama. O’ queen, give good clothes and ornaments to your daughter-in-law in place of these grass and bark objects. These are not meant for Sītā!” So saying Sage Vasiṣṭha asked Sītā not to put on those forest articles. Vasiṣṭha continued: “O’ Princess of Kaikeyī , you had only asked for the exile of Rama. But Sītā can have her daily preparations while she resides in the forest with Rāma. You did not ask that she be exiled. Let her carry all her clothes, the attendants, other articles and the conveyances.”

Even though the great Brāhmaṇa of incomparable virtues made the remarks, Sītā remained steadfast just wishing to follow her husband!

Chapter XXXVII ends in 37 stanzas.

Chapter XXXVIII

Standing there covered with a dress of grass and bark, Sītā looked utterly helpless. All people were agitated and they shouted “Shame on Daśaratha!” Such admonitions brought total distress to the King. He lost all interest in life, the ethics and the renown that he cherished. Taking a long sigh of grief, he spoke to Kaikey: “My teacher has spoken right. Sītā does not deserve to be clad in the forest attire. Delicate and young as she is, she is not fit for the hardship in the forest. Has this great daughter of King Janaka done anything wrong to deserve such insult? She looks like an ascetic beggar standing confused and helpless! I did not commit that she should be exiled to the forest! Let her proceed as she pleases with all her articles together. By virtue of a vow I have done a cruel act and I no longer deserve to live. And now you have started this crude childishness that hurts me. It is like a bamboo tree getting destroyed through its own blossom! You, Vile woman, if you felt Rāma did some unworthy act against you, what wrong has Sītā done to you? See how mild-mannered beautiful girl she is with so exquisite gazelle-like eyes! What bad can she possibly do? It is enough for you that you are sending Rāma to exile. What more sin do you seek to earn through these wrongful acts? Having heard your statement to Rama in connection with his installation, I had kept quiet. Now that you have clad Sītā in the forest dress, you are crossing limits!”

Daśaratha sat quiet looking undignified with the head hung down. Rāma was ready to leave for the forest. He spoke to his father: “Father, this virtuous lady Kauśalyā is my mother. She has grown old in age.  She is generous at heart and respects you very much. Having never seen grief before, she would fall in a state of sorrow when I am gone. I request you to be kind to her. By receiving respect from you, she may bear to withstand the pain caused to her by my departure. Thinking about me, she might survive under your care. Please give sufficient attention to her such that she does not pass away in grief while I am residing in the forest!”

Chapter XXXVIII ends in 17 stanzas.

Chapter XXXIX

Hearing Rāma’s words and seeing him clad in ascetic’s dress, the King lost consciousness. Tormented with immense grief, he could not exchange a glance at Rāma, nor could he speak anything. With pain at heart, he lost his senses for a while. Regaining consciousness he went on wailing about Rāma. “Most likely I have killed many calves in my past life. In this life, I have killed many. They are all coming back to me. Life does not go away until the proper time arrives. But with the pain caused by Kaikeyī, I do not need to wait for death. My son, pure as the fire, is standing in front of me clad in an ascetic’s dress! Only one Kaikeyī who has caused pain to all people. Drowned in selfishness, she is resorting to crookedness to achieve her goal!” With such distressing thoughts, the King choked in emotion. He gasped the sound “Rāma” and could not continue further. Regaining consciousness after a while with tear-filled eyes he spoke to Sumantra: “Please come back fixing the chariot with the best of the horses. You take this blessed prince out of the city limits. It is told that one is rewarded with the virtues among all the virtuous when a pious and hero-like son is exiled to the forest by his father or the mother.”

Hearing the King’s orders, the swift Sumantra fixed the chariot with well decorated horses. With folded palms, he reported that the gilded chariot with excellent horses were ready for travel. The King then called the man in charge of the Treasury and ordered him “Please be quick to arrange dresses and ornaments for Sītā counting the number of years she would be in the forest. Please be quick!” The officer went inside the storage and fetched everything that was ordered. He delivered them to Sītā. Sītā, unusual in her birth and comely in appearance, decorated her well-formed limbs with those colorful ornaments. Well-dressed, she regaled the palace with a radiance like the morning sun lights up the deep blue sky.

Giving Sītā a tight hug and smelling her head in affection, the mother-in-law Kauśalyā spoke the following to the guileless princess. “Women who are always adored by their husbands but fail to return respects during bad times are considered wicked throughout the world. Having enjoyed happiness before, they find faults in their husbands. They cease to be the partners when slightest misfortune strikes. Women who are untruthful in nature, who live in their biases, who are difficult to be understood, who are heartless, who have sinful thoughts and who lose their composure in a moment, are considered wicked. No pedigree, or activity, or learning, or gifts, or even marriage captures the heart of women, so temperamental they are. For virtuous women, who live in good conduct, operate in truthfulness and maintain traditions, the husband alone is the most sacred object, he alone excels. Though sent to the forest my son should not be despised by you. Whether he has means or he is a pauper, he should be considered a person of nobility by you!”

Listening to her advice sincerely, Sītā folded her palms and respectfully said: “Dear Mother, I will do it all as you are advising. I have been instructed before about my conduct towards my husband. You should not equate me to those wicked women. I am unable to deviate from a virtuous path like the moon’s rays are incapable of being parted from the moon. No vīṇā plays without the chords, no chariot moves without the wheels, no happiness to a wife arises without a husband though one may have a hundred sons! Happiness conferred by the father, or a brother, or a son are only limited in scope, unlimited is the happiness with a husband. Why should not a wife worship her husband? Having heard from my elders that the husband is indeed the dignity for a woman, O’ Mother, how can I despise my own husband?”

The heart-felt response by Sītā brought tears to Kauśalyā’s eyes. She felt joyous though it was an event of extreme grief for her. The most virtuous Rāma then consoled his mother, who was the most respected queen in the palace. “Dear Mother, please do not feel bad, please look after my father. My exile period would soon come to an end. Fourteen years would pass by just while you would be asleep!” After speaking to his mother, he looked at the three hundred fifty step-mothers gathered over there. Seeing them as grief-stricken as his own mother, he spoke: “I beg forgiveness in case I have done anything improper because of my ignorance. I beg leave of you all!” Hearing the emotion-filled voice of Rama, the queens were tormented in grief. There was a loud wailing like a collective of cranes making a chorus of shrill noise. The palace that had heard the sounds of drums, tomtoms and Meghas was now filled with cries of agony expressed in utter grief!

Chapter XXXIX ends in 41 stanzas.

Chapter XL

After clasping their father’s feet in respect, Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā walked around him with palms held together. While begging leave of him, Rāma though steady, got emotional. He greeted Kauśalyā in utmost grief. Observing his brother’s act, Lakṣmaṇa also greeted the feet of Kauśalyā and then paid respects to his own mother Sumitrā. Smelling his head in affection Sumitrā told her illustrious son: “Son, you are made for supporting your kinsmen during the period of their exile. Please make sure that you are with Rāma such that troubles keep away from him. The younger to be supervised by the elder is the rule of the world, be it in affluence or be it in a calamity. Practicing charity, consecration in sacrificial performance and losing life in a battlefield have been the conduct of this clan for ages.” After speaking to Lakṣmaṇa, Sumitrā approached her dear Rāma and went on saying repeatedly “Go, Rāma, go!” And, to Lakṣmaṇa she said “Treat Rāma as your father Daśaratha, treat Sītā as me, treat the forest as Ayodhyā. Proceed, my son, happily!”

Sumantra was standing there with folded palms. The humble and obedient he was, he looked like the charioteer Mātali to Lord Indra. “Please ride the chariot, O’ Rāma. I will let you reach wherever you ask me to go. The fourteen years you are supposed to be in the forest as requested by Queen Kaikeyī counts from today!” Sītā was the first to ride the chariot. She had decorated herself with dress and ornaments and looked cheerful. The dresses and ornaments given by her father-in-law to be used during the period in exile were arranged in the back of the chariot along with the weapons and armors given to the brothers. There was a spade and a leather basket tucked in. The two brothers, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, rode the gold-decorated chariot that looked like a ball of fire! Seeing all three riding up, Sumantra let the chariot move. The horses drove the chariot fast competing with the speed of the wind.

Life in the city lost its charm as Rāma left on his journey to reside in the forest. For a period there was dullness everywhere, among people, in the army. But suddenly there was loud noise of elephants running around and tinkling noise of the horses being made ready. At that time, all people, young and old, ran towards Rāma. It was like people looking for water in hot sweltering sun. Clinging to the sides and the back of the chariot, and with tearful eyes, they spoke to Sumantra in a loud voice: “Please hold on to the reins of the horses and go slow. We would like to see the face of Rāma. It gets difficult with speed! There is no doubt that Mother Kauśalyā ’s heart is hard as iron, since it does not crack when her god-like son is leaving for the forest! Blessed is that Vaidehī Sītā who follows her husband like a shadow. She is ever engaged in his services and never leaves him like the sunlight sticking to Mount Meru. Oh, Lakṣmaṇa, fulfilled you are that you can take care of your god-like brother who is always truthful. We applaud your wisdom that you so quickly executed, this is your sure road to the heavens as you are following Rāma.” Speaking like this, people could not control their tears; they went on following their dear son behind the chariot!

King Daśaratha was in the palace surrounded by his queens, who were feeling miserable and were distressed in mind. The king sprang forth outside the palace and said “I want to see my beloved son!” There was a loud noise of crying women like the she-elephants crowing when the male is chained out. The King looked pale and dull. It was like the full moon being overshadowed during an eclipse. At the other side, Rāma, steadfast in his resolve, advised Sumantra to move the chariot fast. Rāma saying “go” and people saying “stay”, the charioteer could do neither! The dust blown from the ground was settling back being washed by the tears of people following the chariot. Crying and teary eyed, many made loud lamentations and fell unconscious. There was wide agony in the city. Women were crying with tears flowing down. It looked as though water drops were shaking off from the lotuses when hit by the agitated movement of fish under water.

Seeing the entire city occupied with one thought, the King was distraught and fell down like a tree cut from its base. Observing the King’s state, there was a vocal noise of lamentation from the back of the chariot. Some shouted “Ha Rāma”, some others cried “Ha Rāma’s mother!” Looking behind, Rāma did see his father running down and confused. He also saw his mother following his father. Being bound his word of honor, he did not dwell on his looking as the foal does not look at her mother when a noose is waiting to trap! He saw his parents walking with no conveyance and bareft of their well-deserved happiness. He asked the charioteer to move the chariot swiftly. He was unable to bear the pain of looking back at his parents.  It was as if an elephant is goaded to move forward.

Kauśalyā ran forward like a cow rushing towards her calf bound at the stall! She leaped forward shouting “Rāma, O’ Rāma, Ha Sītā, Ha Lakṣmaṇa”. She was crying with tears flowing down her eyes. Rāma saw his mother, who lookede like dancing on the street. The King went on ordering “stop” while Rāma went on prompting “move forward!” Sumantra was helpless as though stuck between two running wheels. Rāma advised Sumantra that any delay would increase the pain. He suggested to Sumantra to tell the King on return that “I did not hear.” Paying heed to Rāma’s advice, Sumantra took leave of the crowd that was following and drove the horses fast. The king’s men paid respects to Rāma in their minds and returned back. The citizens however did not return back.

The King’s men said “One whom we wish to return back should not be pursued long!” The most endowed King Daśaratha was perspiring all over. He looked dejected. Hearing the above submission along with his queens, the King kept gazing in the direction of his son in the departing chariot!

Chapter XL ends in 51 stanzas.

 

 

 

Day 17, Ayodhyākāṇḍa Chapters XXXII – XXXV

This is our seventeenth session; the date is February 23, 2014. This is the week preceding S’ivarātri. S’ivarātri is a big festival in Hindu temples of worship. Many people coming from traditional households follow the S’ivarātri rituals religiously. There are nine days of Vedic recitation and puja events. We are carrying our schedule of the reading in spite of conflicts in calendar. I have a class of students whom I wish to educate in Sanskrit. Surendra Vaidya showed up along with Prem and Preeti Nagar. Various students joined along with Suren Shenoy who used to join in earlier readings. We settled down by 3:20 PM.

Rāma seems at ease with his decision to go to the forest. He understood that he was supporting his father’s word and must not question the context. That Daśaratha must have a full guilt-free old age is foremost in Rāma’s mind. Rāma is aware that guilt is psychological and is not temporary. He appears to know that his following the orders would cause huge grief among many, but he is resolute on his course of action. After Sītā could her find her way with him and Lakṣmaṇa took his permission to accompany, Rāma is eager to proceed on his unchartered path in an adventure.

Vālmīki’s genius comes into play in helping to portray the event with realistic imagery. All observers realize that it is an unfortunate decision. They try various ways to convince the parties to mend their positions. But Kaikeyī remains adamant in her decision not to withdraw from the ensuing devastation. Rāma is totally convinced that his exile as a duty towards his father, he does not do anything to modify the course. In Vālmīki’s view, Rāma probably knows that his staying back would do more trouble to people than his going away. Possibly, he was aware of Kaikeyī’s selfishness from his own dealings. He does tell her that he respects her, but inside he knows that he is cheated as he acknowledges later.

The question can be phrased as: what is the duty of a good man in a house of trouble? Rāma tries to follow a path to withdraw from the trouble such that he is not a party to it. His most serious concern is that nobody should point fingers at his father saying that the father failed to keep his word. Rāma is determined to uphold the dignity of his father even though there are serious repercussions resulting from the action. Vālmīki ’s message could be that one has to sacrifice one’s own happiness in order to hold out the dignity of oneself or another individual. The other individual happens to be his father Daśaratha in this case. Rāma expresses highest respects to his father.

With our usual invocations, we continue our reading.

Chapter XXXII

Receiving the well-meaning instructions from his brother, Lakṣmaṇa quickly left for the residence of Suyajña. Greeting the latter at his fire sanctuary, Lakṣmaṇa said “Dear friend, please do come with me. Please visit Rāma who is about to carry out the difficult task.” Finishing his evening worship, Suyajña accompanied Lakṣmaṇa. They reached the beautiful bountiful and luxurious palace of Rāma. Seeing the learned sage, Rāma rose up. He greeted Suyajña as one would respect the sacred fire. He had his hands folded; Sītā was by his side. Rama offered Suyajña many golden armlets, earrings, gems strung on golden threads, beautifully done arm-bangles and other ornaments. Urged by Sītā, Rāma said to Suyajña, “O’ Gentle Sage, your wife’s friend Sītā wants to give her a necklace with a string of gold, and a girdle. Kindly pass them on to her. Because Sītā is going to the forest, she also wishes to give away the armlets and arm-bangles to your wife. She wants to drop off the gem-studded bed with its excellent bedspread. In addition, I give the elephant named Satrunjaya that my uncle gave me. I give you a thousand gold coins.” Suyajña accepted the gifts. He offered benediction blessings on Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā.

Then Rāma spoke to his brother who was calmly watching. The scene resembled Brahmā ’s instructions to Indra. “Please call the foremost pair of Brahmins: Agastya and Kauśika. Load them with gems as rains fall on the ground. Give them a thousand cows each and load them up with gold and silver jewels. Remember that Taittirīya scholar Brāhmin who assists Kauśalyā in Vedic benedictions! Give him a transport and attach a few assistants to him. Give him enough silk and clothes until he is fully satisfied. Felicitate our long-standing friend charioteer Citraratha with gems, clothes and riches. Give him all animals and an extra thousand cows. Then there are these Kaṭha and Kalapa students who walk carrying staffs with them. They are always busy with their studies and rarely do anything else. They do not work but are eager to possess tasteful objects! Give them eighty cart loads of jewels and a thousand cart load of rice. Then give them two hundred bullocks to help in plowing and a thousand cows for their food production. There is a large group of celibate students gathering around Kauśalyā for assistance. Please give them a thousand gold coins each. O’ Lakṣmaṇa, please honor these Brāhmins the best way possible such that my mother feels good about my gifts.”

As instructed the valiant Lakṣmaṇa gave away the riches like Lord Kubera distributes wealth. Rāma then spoke to his grief-stricken voice-choked dependents. He gave each sufficient goods to sustain until he returned. He instructed them to keep guarding his house and Lakṣmaṇa’s house for the period they would be away. Then he asked his treasurer “Please bring the rest of my wealth.” All his people then gathered the riches and piled over there making a large heap. With the help of Lakṣmaṇa he distributed that wealth to the young and old Brāhmins, and to the destitute.

There existed a Brāhmin called Trijaṭa out of the Gārgya clan. Pale in complexion, he survived by collecting roots and fruits. He always carried a spade, an axe and a ploughshare. He was old but had a young wife. His children were young . This day, the wife took their children together and approached the old man: “The husband is like a god to a woman, but I have something to tell you. Please relieve yourself from the axe and spade, and visit the benevolent Rama. You might get something.” Desperate as he was, he pulled his tattered cloth together and proceeded to Rama’s palace. With deep austerity, he was glowing like the sage Bhṛgu and Aṅgiras. Nobody stopped him until the fifth gate of the palace. He reached near Rāma. Trijaṭa said “O’ prince, I have no money and I have several children. I engage myself digging for food in the forest, please look at me!” Rāma was sympathetic to hear his story. Rāma said “One thousand cows are still there to be given away. You could get as many of them as would cover by throwing your staff across them!”

The Brāhmin tightened his loincloth round his waist. Aiming his staff in air, he threw it with all his might and speed. Released from hand, that staff flew across the Sarayū River and fell near a bull amidst thousands of cows. Rāma embraced him for his strength. He arranged to have the cows up to the banks of Sarayū escorted over to the Brāhmin’s hermitage. There Rāma consoled him and said “You should not mind because of my jest! I wanted to witness your remarkable strength. You can ask if anything else you desire! To tell you the truth all wealth with me has been earned for the Brāhmins alone. I get renown if I can distribute them properly.” The ascetic Trijaṭa received the cows with his wife. He was extremely happy. He invoked blessings on Rama for reputation, strength, love and happiness. Rāma continued to distribute his well-earned massive wealth among his acquaintances. All Brāhmins, dependents or poor persons in Ayodhyā were felicitated with gifts and attention conforming to their status.

Chapter XXXII ends in 45 stanzas.

Chapter XXXIII

Together with Sītā, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa gave away their abundant wealth to the Brāhmins. The brothers then went to visit their father, accompanied by Sītā. Two servants carried their bows decorated with garlands beautifully made by Sītā. People who had means had gone to the rooftops and rode tall buildings in order to take a good view. The roads became impassable because of the crowd. The mood was sorrowful and depressing. Seeing Rāma walking with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa, utterly grief-stricken people were offering various comments! “Look! The same Rāma who was earlier followed by an entire army is walking all alone accompanied by Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa!” “The person who had tasted the delights of being a King, and who is a repository of all desires and enjoyments, chose not to belie his father’s word in order to uphold the dignity of truth.” “Sītā, hardly ever seen even from the sky, is now being seen by people walking on the street!” “Deeply deserved to be well cared for, she loves to protect her beauty by smearing crimson-colored sandalwood paste; but very quickly heat, cold and rain would discolor her beauty!” “Definitely King Daśaratha is under an evil spell today! Otherwise he would not banish his dear son to exile!” “Nobody sends an unqualified son to exile, what to talk of a person who has won the entire world by his conduct!” “Non-cruelty, compassion, learning, proper disposition, sense-discipline and peacefulness – the six masculine qualities adore Rama.”… People were extremely pained by the hurt caused to Rāma. The feeling was like the aquatic creatures seeking water in summer months! The whole world was feeling the pain as the protector of the world was hurt! It is like a tree with flowers and fruits damaged by injury caused to its root! “He is the epitome of virtue!” “He is the most shining talent.” “He is the root of the entire humanity; all others are like flowers and fruits, leaves and branches!”

“Let us follow Rāma immediately with our wives and family members as Lakshmana is doing. Let us abandon the farms and the gardens. Let us follow Rāma sharing his joy and grief. Let our houses be deserted and all material be removed. Let us forget our courtyards. Let the riches and food products be taken away. Let all accumulate dust. Let the gods run away. Let the mice rule the place running out of their holes. Devoid of water and smoke, unswept and not maintained, let the places of sacrifice be abandoned. Let there be no prayers or chanting. Let the place look as a calamity has fallen with broken down vessels. Let there be all gloom. Let that evil Kaikeyī enjoy the land after we leave! Let the forest transform to a city where Rāma enters. Let the city of Ayodhyā convert itself to a forest as we abandon it! Being scared by our presence in the forest, let the snakes abandon their holes. Let the deer, birds, lions and elephants leave the forest such that we inhabit. Let them be in the land where would be enough grass, meat and fruits. Let them live with Kaikeyī and her son and relatives. We would live happily in the forest with Rāma!”

Thus people spoke variously. Rāma heard them all but was not perturbed. He once again reached the palace of his stepmother that was shining like the peak of Mount Kailāsa. With dignity and elegance, he walked along. Entering the palace guarded by loyal soldiers, he saw Sumantra, standing not too far, looking desperate. Though all people waiting were in sorrowful mood, Rāma maintained a smile and had no sorrow. He went to his father eagerly. He was determined to pursue his father’s command dutifully. Seeing the King giving a desolate appearance, he waited outside to let Sumantra announce his arrival to the King. Being resolute about his exile to the forest, he told to Sumantra “Please report my arrival to the King!”

Chapter XXXIII ends in 33 chapters.

Chapter XXXIV

The handsome lotus-eyed Rāma, whose elegance defied description, advised Sumantra to let his father know of his arrival. Deeply remorseful Sumantra quickly entered the inner quarters. He saw the King restless and breathing heavily. The King looked like an eclipsed sun, like a fire being covered up with the ashes. He looked dull like a dried up pond. The King was pensive and was deeply ruminating of Rāma. The wise Sumantra greeted the King with folded hands. He offered benediction in appreciation of his many victories as he greeted. Finally, he said in a low and sweet voice: “The valiant Rāma has arrived at the gate. He has given away all his belongings to the Brāhmins and the dependents. After having taken leave from all his relatives, the great follower of truth is here to see you. The great Rāma is endowed with all the royal qualities as the sun is covered with the rays. He would be proceeding to the forest. Please see him. Let all be good with you.” The King Daśaratha, who was righteousness and truthful, stainless as the sky, and grave as the ocean, responded: “Sumantra, please call all my wives. Let me meet Rāma together with them.”

Sumantra went to the inner quarters in the palace. He announced to the wives: “The Noble King has asked that you all go there without delay!” Hearing this, three hundred and fifty coppery-eyed young wives, who were steadfast in their devotion to the husband, slowly walked forth to Kaikeyi’s quarters. Kauśalyā walked in the middle encircled by the rest. Seeing that the wives had assembled, the King ordered to Sumantra “Please do bring my son!” Sumantra escorted Rāma along with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā. He led them to the King. Noticing Rāma from a distance walking with folded hands, the remorseful King got up from his seat and started sprinting towards his son. Alas! before reaching Rāma, the King dropped unconscious on the ground. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa reached out to the unconscious King. There was a wail of “Hā Hā Rāma!” from the thousands of women in the palace, mixed with the jingling noise of their ornaments. Supporting the King in their arms and crying, the brothers along with Sītā laid the King on the couch.

The grief-stricken teary-eyed King did regain consciousness for a brief moment. Rāma tried to speak to him: “O’ King, you are the master of all. I beg leave of you in order to proceed to Daṇḍakāraṇya. Please offer your good wishes to me. Please allow Lakṣmaṇa to follow me and let Sītā accompany me. In spite of dissuading them with manifold factual reasons, they do not wish to stay behind. O’ Giver of Dignity, please allow us to leave, like Lord Brahmā had done to his sons earlier.” Rāma stood undistracted waiting for the commands of the King. The King looked pensive at Rāma and said: “I have lost my senses through the boon episode by Kaikeyī. I urge you take me captive and assume the reign of Ayodhyā today.” Rāma, the noblest among the righteous, responded with folded hands: “You remain the King of the entire kingdom for another thousand years. I will live in the forest since I have no interest in assuming the throne. O’ King, after completing the vow and spending fourteen years in the forest, I would return home to your feet!”

The King was crying, and was feeling desperate observing how his own words had bound him. Under Kaikeyī bidding, he gave his farewell “Your mind dwells on truth and righteousness so your decision cannot be reversed. In order that your glory may enhance on your return please proceed in a steady and unperturbed mind. Do overcome obstacles on the road and be safe. Let me request not to leave today and stay over the night. By being with you another day I would feel happy. Be considerate to me, and to your mother. You stay the night over such that I can treat you. You can leave tomorrow morning. It is unusual that you are proceeding to the forest in order to satisfy something I had said. Your task is most difficult in all accounts. I swear by truth, I do not agree with this development! I have been distracted from the path that I should be following! You are trying to achieve a pledge fraudulently extracted from me by Kaikeyī. She concealed her intentions as ash conceals fire. It is not surprising that being the eldest son you want your father released from the burden of not keeping his word!”

Rāma along with his brother heard the most passionate words from his father. With utter humility, he said “Who would offer me the treats tomorrow that I am likely to get today? I think I should leave without getting into the distractions. Please give away the kingdom with its people and riches to Bharata. The kingdom has been relinquished by me. My decision to go to the forest must not be forsaken since the boon that you gave to Kaikeyī in the battlefield needs to be fulfilled. By giving away everything and me following your orders, your truthfulness would be vindicated. I will live in the forest for fourteen years. Please do give away the entire kingdom to Bharata; please do not think otherwise. I do not have any desire for the kingdom, personal happiness or sweet objects. But I have intention to follow your orders in order to fulfill the boon. Let your sorrow remit itself. Please do not get overwhelmed in tears. The invincible ocean, the lord of the rivers, as you are, must not get perturbed. I do not desire the kingdom, nor do I seek happiness or land. I do not need them in this world or the other. I only wish that you remain true to your word, and that you never prove untruthful. I swear this with all my truthfulness and my virtues. Father, I am unable to stay a moment longer. Please restrain from your grief, I have no second thoughts. I have been commanded by Kaikeyī with “Go to the forest,” and I have responded “I am going.” I need to follow up on such statements. Please do not be anxious. We would be merrily moving around in the forest amidst the quiet deer herds hearing noisy flocks of birds!”

“Dear Father, one’s father is like a god and is remembered among the gods. I would follow my father’s words as the command of the gods. After fourteen years have elapsed, you would see me back again. Please get rid of any remorse. All people grieving in the kingdom are supposed to be consoled by you, how is it that you yourself are falling into grief? The city, the state and the land renounced by me should be given away to Bharata. In order to fulfill your orders I will go to the forest for quite a long period of time. Let Bharata rule over this land containing mountain ranges, cities and gardens, that are renounced by me. Let him apply limits of his righteousness in ruling. Let your word come out to be true. I do not take pleasure in any activity other than following your orders. I do not wish the kingdom, the pleasures, the land or even Sītā by causing you anxiety. By removing your anxiety of non-truthfulness, you should feel relaxed that your word would come true. By sustaining myself with fruits and roots and viewing the mountains, rivers and lakes, I would be happy among the beautiful trees in the forest. Please be in peace!”

King Daśaratha was tormenting in grief and sorrow. He embraced his son, but soon lost consciousness. He fell down on the ground. He had no senses. Barring one, all queens started crying. The charioteer Sumantra cried hard and went unconscious. There were laments and loud cries all around!

Chapter XXXIV ends in 61 stanzas.

Chapter XXXV

Sumantra, the charioteer of Daśaratha, was extremely upset. Taking long sighs, pressing his palms together and grinding his teeth he had turned red in anger. He beat his head suddenly, he was overwhelmed with wrath and was in deep agony. By reading Daśaratha’s mind, he bombarded Kaikeyī with sharp rebukes strong as to shake her up. His acrimonious words appeared like thunders penetrating Kaikeyī ’s heart. “You wretched lady! Nothing is undesirable to you! You have betrayed your husband the great King Daśaratha, the ruler of the entire land. I consider you the killer of your husband, and ultimately the destroyer of the race! By your actions, you indeed have succeeded in tormenting our great King, who is invincible as Indra, unshakable as a mountain and imperturbable as an ocean. Do not despise King Daśaratha, who is your husband, protector and bestower of the boons. For a woman, the will of a husband is superior to tens of millions of sons! When the King dies, the sons are supposed inherit the kingdom according to age. You wish to break this Ikṣvāku tradition even when the king is alive!”

“Let your son Bharata become the King and rule over the kingdom. We would go where Rāma will go. No Brāhmin would find it fit to stay in your rule. If you continue to do the undignified work that you are pursuing, we will all follow the path of Rāma. All family members, the Brahmins and the ascetics would leave the kingdom. What good would happen to you by securing such kingdom? Why do you resort to such a despicable act? I am stunned to observe your conduct. Why does not the earth explode to forsake such conduct? How is that fiery rods of punishment do not bombard on you, the evil conduct, one who plots Rāma’s exile? Who on earth would nurture a Neem tree by cutting down a Mango tree? No Neem tree would turn sweet though nurtured in milk! It appears to me that your conduct is like that of your mother’s. As the popular saying is ‘honey would not flow from a Neem tree’!”

“Let me tell you what is heard about the evil conduct of your mother. Someone noble gave an excellent boon to your father. Through the boon, the King could understand the language of all created beings. He could understand the language of the inferior creatures. Once while in bed, he heard a loud shrill cry of a bird. He understood the language and laughed repeatedly. Your mother was extremely annoyed and asked your father to reveal the meaning of his laugh even threatening to hang him otherwise! The King responded ‘If I tell you the reason for my laughter, my death would surely follow from it! There is no doubt!” Your mother responded ‘Whether you live or die, you have to tell me such that you would not laugh at me!’ Admonished by his wife, the King of the Kaikeyas reported the matter to the sage who had bestowed the boon on him. The sage told the King ‘Whether she dies or departs from your home, never you reveal the secret!’ The King was happy to hear these words and ignoring your mother lived happily like the King Kubera. You, the evil conduct, are also guiding the King to take the wrong course taking advantage of his infatuation through your crookedness.”

“The popular saying that the males take after the father and females after the mother appears to be true. Do not be like your mother, but accept as the King advises you. By following the will of your husband, be a protector of all people here. Incited by evil minds, do not engage your god-like husband into an improper course of conduct. The glorious sinless handsome King Daśaratha would not fall back from the boon given to you. The strong, generous and virtuous Rāma who is the eldest and is engaged in protecting his own duties and protecting everyone else, should be installed on the throne. In case Rāma goes to forest leaving the King, a great infamy would fall on you. Let Rāma get his own kingdom and you be free of anxiety. Nobody else other than Rama on the throne would be well disposed towards you. Once Rāma is installed as the King, the great bow-man King Daśaratha would retire to the forest following the family tradition.”

Standing with folded hands, Sumantra delivered these sharp as well as consoling remarks repeatedly in order to shake up Kaikeyī . The Queen on the other hand was neither excited nor agonized. No change was perceived on her face to note any reaction!

Chapter XXXV ends in 35 stanzas.

 

Day 16, Ayodhyākāṇḍa Chapters XXVI – XXXI

This is our sixteenth session; the date is February 9, 2014. The winter in the New England has been a bit severe this year, but we are able to keep up with our schedule. Some of the prospective Sanskrit students have shown up. They help in setting up the chairs, cushions and seats. We set up a mini meeting space every time we meet. Our usual participants like Kaladhar Rao, Vijaya Rao, Surendra Vaidya, Prem Nagar and Preeti Nagar did show up. We settled down by 3:15 PM.

After introducing many strong characters, Vālmīki is ready to characterize the strong personality of Sītā. She brings the feminine sensitivity and a strong determined character. She was “found” by Daśaratha while a land was being ploughed for farming. She grew up bright and good-looking. Her wedding ritual connected with the special bow of Siva had attracted Viśvāmitra’s attention prompting him to escort Rāma to Mithilā that culminated Rāma’s boyhood journey. Sītā had been married for a year when the exile to the forest is ordered on Rāma. Her reaction to this untoward situation makes her the most loved feminine character in Indian history and literature.

Sītā defines the conduct for a married woman in India. Again we are unsure if Vālmīki borrowed the story, or if he created the character. Either way, Sītā presents herself as a decisive person, completely secure in her thoughts and words. Unlike Rāma, she does not bring acts of Providence into consideration, but deals with the local situation in womanly resilience. Her decision-making and insistence stuns Rāma and makes her the key to the story of Rāmāyaṇa. She is willing to sacrifice her comforts to be able to be with her husband in the time of his distress. She draws sympathy and admiration for her courage and her dedication, both from her family and from millions of followers of Rāmāyaṇa. Sītā’s character has been an icon In India in portraying feminine virtues.

With our usual invocations, we continue our reading.

Chapter XXVI

Rāma, the prince of righteousness, received his mother’s blessings and prepared to go to the forest. Bidding his mother fare-well he came to the main road. The road was crowded with people. There were engaging conversations about him and his good conduct. Not being aware of all the developments, Sītā was eagerly looking forward to the installation ceremony in the palace. After having done the rituals in the morning, she was feeling grateful and delighted. She had been briefed with the installation protocol. She was waiting for Rāma to return.

Rāma did return to the well-decorated palace. There was jubilant noise with joyful rejoicing in anticipation. Bashful Rāma kept himself low-key. Sītā rose up from her seat and came near him. She noticed him anxious and distressed. She was shocked. Out of fear she trembled. Seeing Sītā losing her balance, Rāma could not control his emotions and broke down. He was sweating profusely; his face had turned pale. Sītā was further aggrieved to see his sorrowful face. She asked: “What has happened, my Lord? The Brāhmaṇas and the wise men have said that today is the most auspicious day for you since the Puṣya constellation is in ascendance to Jupiter (Bṛhaspati). Why are you in bad mood? Your face has lost its shine. Where is that splendid umbrella made of a hundred ribs that present an impression of foam? Why is it not covering you? None is fanning you with those two large royal chowries looking like a moon and a swan! The joyful minstrels and the bards are not singing your praise, nor are seen the charioteers and the messengers. The Brāhmaṇas and the learned men have not poured ritualistic honey and curd on your head to prepare you for the installation! Ceremonially dressed ministers, prominent tradesmen and people from the countryside are not seeking to follow you! Why is not a gorgeous chariot pulled by four fast moving horses and decked in flowers with decorations in gold going in front? No signature elephant looking like a dark mountain cloud endowed with all noble qualities, walks in front of you. I do not see the servants carrying the throne with the gold insignia escorting you. Why do you look pale while all arrangements of your installation should be complete at this moment? I do not see you happy!”

Rāma responded to his perplexed wife: “My dear Sītā, the noble father is sending me in exile to the forest! Jānakī, you descend from a noble family and you are righteous. You conduct yourself in virtue. Let me tell you how this exile has come to be. Our father King Daśaratha, who keeps true to his promise, had given two special boons to our mother Kaikeyī . She brought them up today while the King was following his righteous obligations, and was all prepared with my installation. I have to spend fourteen years in exile at the Daṇḍaka forest. Bharata is appointed by our father to be the Crown Prince. I came to see you on my way to the lonely forest. Please never praise me near Bharata. Prosperous people do not tolerate to hear others’ glories. Never talk about my qualities in front of him. Do not use special adjectives to refer to me. Stay near him, and act as it would conform to his wishes. The King has conferred on him the position of Crown Prince and you need to serve him since he would also be the King. In following the orders from the King I proceed to the forest today itself. My bright partner, please do maintain calm!”

“My dear, do resort to holy rites and fasting when I am gone to the forest inhabited by the sages. Do get up at dawn and offer worship to the gods. Then, you should offer your respects to the King Daśaratha, our father. My mother Kauśalyā is old and is highly distressed in grief. She deserves your respect as a part of your virtue. The rest of my step-mothers deserve your greetings every day since all of them are equal in affection, company and nurture to me. The two cousins Bharata and Satrughna are dearer to me more than my life. You should specially consider them as your brothers or sons! O’ Vaidehī, you must not do anything unpleasant to Bharata. He is the ruler of the land and the custodian of our clan. Kings get happy when they are served with proper conduct and care, and they get upset otherwise. When adversity rides, the kings forsake their own children. They are known to accept strangers who support. O’ my blessed wife, you live here following the King Bharata and remain engaged in a righteous life, virtuous and truthful. I will go to the dense forest. You stay here, my dear! You should not do anything that may offend anyone. This is my advice to you!”

Chapter XXVI ends in 38 stanzas.

Chapter XXVII

Thus counseled by Rāma, the sweet-speaking Sītā got upset. Her love to her husband turned into disgust. She said: “O’ Rāma, why are you giving such advice to me making me look small! O’ great among men, indeed I am amused to hear your words. O’ King, what you have said today in unworthy of being spoken by capable princes skilled in the use of weapons and shafts. It is disgraceful and not worth listening to! My dear noble man! know this! Father, mother, brother, son and daughter-in-law – each reaps his or her own destiny enjoying his or her own merits. A wife only gets the destiny of her husband. So, take it that I have also been ordered to live in the forest. For a woman, no father or mother or son or friends or even her own self is a refuge. Her destiny is linked with her husband all the time!”

“O’ Rāghava, in case you leave for the difficult forest today, I would walk in front of you stumping on the grass and clearing the thorns. Casting away any envy and anger, please do take me without hesitation. Take me as people would take water after a meal. I submit I do not have any sins in me. Whether it is at the top of a palace, or traveling in a craft in the sky or cruising through the cosmos – in all circumstances shelter at the husband’s feet is preferable to a woman. I have been instructed by my parents how I conduct myself in different situations. I need not be told again now. I can travel without the help of servants to the difficult forest populated by wild animals and herds of tigers. Not thinking of the three worlds and mindful of serving my husband, I would live happily in the forest as I would in my parental home. Being in self-restraint, I would serve you every day moving with you in the forest through the sweet fragrant trees!”

“O’ Rāma, you are capable of protecting the dignity of other persons in the forest, so why not mine? I have no doubt that I would accompany you to the forest; I cannot be persuaded otherwise, O’ noble soul! Unhesitatingly I would live on fruits and roots every day in the forest. I would not give you any trouble while living with you. I will walk in front of you and shall eat only after you have taken your meal. I wish to visit the mountains, ponds and lakes. I want to enjoy them without fear, being protected by you. I wish to visit the lotus-ponds filled with flowers, swan and fowls. Happily, I shall take my daily bath in them following you. I shall feel delighted to spend hundreds or thousands of years with you! Heaven would not be acceptable to me without you. I will go to the impenetrable forest populated by wild beasts, monkeys and elephants, and will love to live there at your feet as though I am in my parental home. I have my single-minded devotion to you! I would die if separated from you! Please grant my prayer and take me along with you; I would never be a burden to you!”

Even though spoken like this, Rāma was not inclined to take Sītā to the forest. In order to restrain her, he spoke about many miseries associated with the life in a forest!

Chapter XXVII ends in 24 stanzas.

Chapter XXVIII

Enumerating the difficulties that would present themselves in the forest, the righteous Rāma did not think it wise to take Sītā along with him. At the same time, Sītā remained confident about her own views. She had tears listening to Rāma’s reluctance. Consoling her and trying to restrain her from her thinking, Rāma continued: “O’ Sītā, you belong to an excellent family and you are always engaged in righteousness. You should conduct yourself in nobility here such that it gives me peace. My dear, please do as I advise you. Living in the forest has severe hardships; I can explain them to you. Life in forest is fraught with miseries, please do forego the thought of living in the forest. I advise such to you for your own good. I do not know any happiness in the forest; it is all grief all the time!”

“With the rushing swerves of the mountain-streams, and roars of lions from the mountain caves – the noise gives pain to the ears. Wild beasts jump freely and converge on the human being just by noticing. There are streams and swamps crowded with alligators, difficult to cross even by the high-spirited elephants. Shrubs and needles cover the narrow trails. Wild cocks howl, there is no water to drink. The forest path is too difficult to tread. After a long-toiled day, one has to sleep on a bed made out of leaves fallen from the trees right on the ground. It is painful. Every day and night one has to be satisfied by eating fruits fallen from the trees. One has to observe fasts and one must maintain matted locks with a dress of bark. One needs to offer prescribed worship to the gods and the ancestors. One has to take care of any guests who might show up. Living through discipline, one must take ablutions three times a day. One must make worship articles made of flowers plucked from the forest in order to conform to the code of the sages. The forest dwellers must restrain on their food and should be happy to take what is available. Forest is indeed a very miserable place!”

“Severe wind blows. One feels hungry all the time. All kinds of scary snakes and reptiles creep mightily on the trail. Water snakes making crooked paths cover the road at will. Moths, insects, scorpions, mosquitoes and gnats bite and cause trouble. Wild grass, trees with thorns and extended branches cover the path! Various bodily pains and scares of all kinds bother people living in the forest. One has to get rid of anger and greed and must make the mind of an ascetic to live in the forest. One must learn not to fear what is indeed scary. The forest is fraught with many evils. You must forsake the thought of going to the forest; you cannot handle it!”

While the noble-souled Rāma did not agree to take Sītā to the forest, she adamantly disagreed. Deeply aggrieved, she tried to speak to Rama again.

Chapter XXVIII ends in 26 stanzas.

Chapter XXIX

Sītā was deeply attached to Rāma. His disinclination to her along with him was hurting her badly. With tears rolling, she spoke gently: “The difficulties that you have stated regarding living in the forest would turn out to be a blessing in disguise for me when I am rewarded with your affection. Wild beasts, lions, elephants, tigers, and other ferocious animals roaming in the forest would simply run away seeing you since they have never seen your face before and are scared of you. O’ Rāma, I have to go with you as is permitted by the parents. I would give up my life if separated from you! Even the powerful Indra cannot dislodge me when I am by your side!”

“It is you who have told me that a woman without a husband would not survive. Moreover, I have heard a prophecy from the Brāhmaṇas at my parents’ house. After interpreting various birthmarks in my body, they said that I have to live in the forest for a while during my life. I have developed a longing to live in the forest ever since. The prophecy of exile needs be satisfied. Time has come for the prophecy to come true. Permitted by you, I would go with you. Timidity is only for people who lack confidence. I am aware of forest living since I heard about it from a woman hermit narrating in front of my mother. You have yourself also asked me many times to accompany you in your trips to the forest. I am desirous of going to the forest with you!”

“I feel delighted to think of going to the forest and serving my heroic husband. By following the husband in pure heart and in devotion, I would feel guilt-free. The husband is indeed the ultimate refuge. Through my union with you, I am indeed blessed in my life after death! The eminent Brāhmaṇas have told that the woman continues to be with the person whom the parents have given away in faith with sanctified water. What makes you think not to take your own wife who is well natured and devoted to her husband? It should be just right for you to take me to the forest. This woman, your wife, is devoted to her husband. She treats pleasure and sorrow equally, she feels miserable to be ignored. In case you do not take me, I would find a way to end my life – be it poison, fire or water!”

In this manner, Sītā went on requesting Rāma to take her to the forest. Rāma remained unmoved on his determination not to take her. Discouraged, Sītā was worried. Tears rolled from her eyes. The calm-mind Rama continued to pacify her in many ways. Sītā was emotional and angry.

Chapter XXIX ends in 24 stanzas.

Chapter XXX

Rāma consoled Sītā, but she continued to urge him to go with him to the forest. Agitated with love and pride, she taunted the broad-shouldered Rāma. “Did my father, the King of Videha, know that his son-in-law is otherwise a woman in a man’s form? It would not be false if people observe in ignorance that Rama does not have the valor though he shines like the sun! Why do you feel sad? Whom do you fear that you must forsake your devoted wife like me? Know me as obedient as Sāvitrī who followed Satyavān, the son of Dyumatsena. Unlike others who bring shame on their families, I have not seen anyone else other than you in my whole life! I should go with you. How do you wish to give away your own wife to somebody else? You married her when she was a virgin. She has been committed to you all her life. You should be loyal to your traditions and follow the rules of those who are your own preceptors. It is not right for you to go to the forest without me. Be it a sacrifice, be it forest or be it the heavens, I have no place without you. I would not cause you any extra labor. I would be walking behind you in travel. I would take rest after you do. Grass, shrubs, reeds, bushes and thorny trees would feel to my feet like cotton rolled deerskin. When wind gusts would drench me in dust, I would consider them as holy sandalwood powder! Beds covered with carpets do not feel more comfortable than lying down with you on the ground deep in the forest! Be it a root or a fruit, be small quantity or large, they taste like nectar when obtained by you! I would enjoy the seasonal flowers and fruits and would not miss my parents’ home. You would not see anything unwelcome in the forest because of me, neither you would get any pain due to me. I would not be a burden to you! When with you, it feels like heaven to me, and without you, it is hell. Please know this love from me and walk with me. If you do not take me along, confident as I am, I will drink poison today rather than submit to anyone else. It would be difficult for me to live in pain abandoned by you. Death is superior. I cannot handle this pain even for a minute! How do I survive fourteen years in such condition?”

Wailing Sītā was exhausted. Hurt by statements like poison shafts piercing an elephant, she could not restrain herself but burst out crying. She held Rāma in tight embrace. She was sobbing as fire coming out of wood sticks. Crystal-like tears were falling from her eyes like water dropping from a pair of lotus flowers! That great face with wide eyes, looking like the unstained full moon, was colorless, dull. It was like a withered lotus in heat without water! Holding her in his arms, Rama reassured her. She was suffocating and losing her consciousness!

Rāma changed his mind! He said: “My dear, even the heavens would not please me if I see you in distress. Just like Svayaṁbhū Narayana, I do not have any fear to anyone. Failing to understand your mind, I did not approve of your exile to the forest. I am fully capable of protecting you. As you have been destined to dwell with me in the forest, I must not leave you alone. Love does not leave the self-restrained. My dear, I have committed myself to go through a path of righteousness; you can follow me like Suvarcalā follows the Sun! It cannot be that I do not go to the forest. My father’s words are taking me to the forest such that his words remain true! To obey the parents is righteous. I have no desire to survive when disobeying their commands. How does one offer worship to an undependable Providence while disregarding one’s own dependable father, mother and the teacher? There is no other service in the entire three worlds as noble as serving these three!”

“No truth, no charity, no sacrifice or gifts equal to the potency of serving one’s parents. Be it the heavens, wealth, food, knowledge, children or happiness – nothing is unreachable should the blessings of elders be with you. Noble-souled individuals who serve their parents transcend to the sphere of the gods, the Gandharvas, the Goloka, the Brahmaloka and beyond! I wish to follow whatever my father directs me in his truthful conduct. This law is eternal! Since you are so determined to go with me to the Daṇḍaka forest, I am not reluctant any more. O’ sweet and beautiful, do follow me to the forest as my quiet partner! Your decision to accompany me appears to me the right one taking account of my family traditions and yours. Please do proceed with your preparations. No paradise is lovelier than your company is to me now! Do give charities to the Brāhmaṇas and food to the needy. Please be quick, do not delay! Give away your ornaments, good clothes, household articles and playful objects to the families of your servants. Give the remainders to the Brāhmaṇas.”

Reassured with her husband’s words Sītā felt delighted. The illustrious and strong-willed Sītā began distributing her riches and jewels to the righteous individuals.

Chapter XXX ends in 47 stanzas.

Chapter XXXI

Lakṣmaṇa had arrived there. Hearing of the developments, he was immensely grief-stricken. He broke down into tears. Holding his brother’s feet tightly with his hands, he begged him and the noble Sītā not to leave him back. “The forest is inhabited by wild beasts and elephants. In case you are determined to proceed, please allow me to go along with you to protect you. I will walk with my bow right up in the front! You could move freely around in the forest. The forest is a noisy place filled with the sounds of the animals and birds. I do not wish anything without your company – no heavens, no immortality, no ruling the world!” Lakṣmaṇa was determined to accompany Rāma to the forest; and Rāma discouraged him in many different ways. Lakṣmaṇa continued: “My going with you is already permitted by you by your previous words to me. Why are you preventing me now? I wish to know the reason you are not allowing me to go with you. O’ the virtuous one, kindly help remove this doubt in me!” Lakṣmaṇa stood there with folded hands waiting for a response. Rāma took Lakṣmaṇa’s gestures to heart and spoke to his steady and calm brother, who was always up there to support him.

“O’ Lakṣmaṇa! You are affectionate, righteous, calm and always virtuous. You are my dear, like my own life; you are victorious, loyal and act as a friend to me. Who would take care of Mother Kauśalyā and Mother Sumitrā if you would go away with me to the forest? The glorious King who showered blessings on people like the rains on earth is stuck in bouts of lust. After procuring the kingdom from the King, Kaikeyī, the daughter of King Aśvapati, would certainly not take proper care of her distressed co-wives. Bharata, having occupied the throne and supervised by Kaikeyī, would not be able to care for our grief-stricken mothers Kauśalyā and Sumitrā. O’ Saumitrī, you must take care of distinctive Kauśalyā, either through your own efforts or by taking help from the King. Such action of yours would show full devotion to me. It would accrue great merits for you through offering service to the elders. My mother would have no happiness without us around. Dear scion of Raghu, you need to do this for my sake!”

Spoken like this, the skilled Lakṣmaṇa responded in a calm and steady voice: “Bharata is endowed with the moral lustre inspired by you. I have no doubt that he would be devoted to Kauśalyā and Sumitrā. I would finish him off in case he does not take care of the prized piece of land, and if he shows pride and haughtiness. Not only him, would I take care of all people who would support him in the entire universe! The dependents of Mother Kauśalyā are granted thousands of villages that can support thousands like me! Mother Kauśalyā would have enough resources to support herself and my Mother, and many like her including me. Please do take me to attend on you! This action has no unrighteousness in it. I would be thankful for the opportunity! Your cherished goal would be accomplished. Carrying my bow and a spade with a basket, I would be walking ahead of you to show you the way. I would procure wild roots and fruits for you every day. I would procure materials required for the fire oblation. You would be roaming around with Sītā on the mountain hillocks and I would do everything for you whether you are awake or asleep!”

Rāma was affectionate to Lakṣmaṇa and was pleased to hear his words. He said “Go, get leave from all your friends. Two fierce looking bows that Lord Varuṇa gave himself to King Janaka at the grand sacrifice, a pair of impenetrable armors, a pair of quivers with inexhaustible supply of arrows and two lustrous swords bedecked with gold shining like the sun are deposited with our teacher. They are stored in his house. Please collect them all, and return soon.” Assured of his journey to the forest Lakṣmaṇa took leave from his inner circle and collected the garlanded weapons from Guru Vasiṣṭha’s house. The strong prince showed all the divine weapons to Rāma. Rāma was happy. He told him: “You are back at right time. Through you, I want to give away all the remaining belongings I have to the Brāhmaṇas, who reside here and are firm in their devotion to the preceptors. The rest can be given away to my dependents. Please invite over the gentle Suyajña, the son of Guru Vasiṣṭha, the foremost among the Brāhmaṇas. After paying my respects to him and all other erudite Brāhmaṇas, I shall proceed to the forest!”

Chapter XXXI ends in 37 stanzas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 15, Ayodhyākāṇḍa Chapters XXI (51) – XXV

 

This is our fifteenth session; the date is January 26, 2014. Today happens to be Republic Day of India and there are various festivities in the community. We have advanced our schedule to 2 PM and we would have a shorter session until 4 PM. Some from new student group have come and they helped in arranging the cushions to help people sit. I wanted to dedicate the reading to the mothers of the world following Kauśalya’s example of offering protective prayers for Rāma’s journey. Various new people have shown up along with our usual readers.

Vālmīki’s depiction of Kauśalya fascinates me. She is King Daśaratha’s first queen, but does not have the happiest of the time. She is a religious woman spending time in rituals and austerities not admired by the pompous Daśaratha. Daśaratha marries a second queen Kaikeyi from a stronger royal family. Kaikeyi has better looks and is more luxurious in her habitat. Daśaratha spends most of his free time with Kaikeyi neglecting Kauśalya. Kauśalya attends to the official duties as the first queen causing jealousy in Kaikeyi. Rāma, the person of principle and talent, is born to Kauśalya as the eldest son in the family. Kauśalya has enough reason to think that her period of “disrespect” could end with Rāma’s installation as the prospective King.

Kauśalya has been counting time to escape from the taunts of Kaikeyi. She is devastated with Rāma’s decision of going to the forest. Vālmīki portrays Kauśalya as a person of strength and high moral character. This is the third feminine personality characterized in the book and Vālmīki soars with the poetic beauty. I enjoy the power of motherhood that the poet has stuffed into the character. The drama heightens with the story of these two mothers. Kaikeyi, the mother, is counseled by her servant Mantharā to manipulate the King. Kauśalya, the righteous mother, is neglected by her husband, and presently is being left alone by her son. Kaikeyi wants her son to be the King. Kauśalya prays that her son is safe during the exile in the forest.

We begin our session at 2:15 PM.

Chapter XXI (51st stanza onwards)

Kauśalya was depressed almost like a dead person. After hearing Rāma’s morality-laced statements uttered in a clear and steadfast manner, she looked at him again. With heart-filled emotion, she cried out “My son, like your father I am also your teacher by virtue of my relationship to you. I have done my duties to raise you! I do not grant you permission to go to the forest. It is not right for you to go away leaving me alone! It would make me extremely unhappy. What life do I have in this world without you? What do I do with the oblations? What do I do with the divine nectar? A moment with you is superior to me than anything else in the rest of the universe!” Hearing these most pitiful wailings, Rāma felt agitated inside. His condition was like that of a trapped elephant hounded by men with fire sticks. Holding his patience and knowing the gravity of his duty, Rāma spoke in his characteristic manner. Turning to Lakṣmaṇa he said: “Dear Lakṣmaṇa, indeed I know your devotion to me and I am aware of your valor. Without fully comprehending my intent, you have been hurting me as my mother does. Like an obedient wife giving birth to a son, various religious merits, material gain and enjoyment do ensue because of a desire of cherishing righteousness. One must pursue paths where all three are desired together since pure material gain brings hatred. Addiction to enjoyment does not do any good. Only a man cruel in his conduct would fail to perform tasks ordered by his aged father, whether expressed out of anger, excitement or lust! Brother, I am unable to carry out the pledge of my father dutifully. He can command us to any task. He is our refuge, our resource and is the guardian of our mother!” Turning to his mother, he said: “O’ Mother, how do you think of departing with me as a widow, when the virtuous King is alive and is stoutly following the path of righteousness? Please do grant me permission to leave for the forest. Please do the necessary sacred rituals for my welfare such that I can return after the completion of the exile as King Yayāti ascended to heaven by virtue of his truthfulness! I consider fame more valuable than the kingdom. Life being of short duration, I do not want a life lived in an unrighteous manner.”

Thus consoling his mother and teaching his brother about his principles, Rāma was ready to proceed to Daṇḍaka forest for his exile. He expressed his respect to his mother by mentally going around her in a clockwise manner (pradakṣiṇa).

Chapter XXI ends in 64 stanzas.

Chapter XXII

Lakṣmaṇa had been depressed and agonized. He was furious; his eyes had lit up in rage as those of an angry elephant. The truthful and insightful Rāma approached Lakṣmaṇa to speak to him. He consoled his brother with patience: “O’ Lakṣmaṇa, please restrain from anger and grief. You must adopt patience. Please abandon any ill feeling and accept everything peacefully. Please return everything back that is assembled for the sake of the installation. Please hurry up. Please display the same organizational skill in canceling the installation as in the preparation. Please make sure that our mother Kaikeyi is free from any apprehension since she was very much troubled with my installation. I cannot ignore any pain arising in her mind. I do not recall if I did any insincere or less sincere act to my mothers, or to my father. Our father is truthful, upholds truth and sticks to his truthfulness. He is scared of the perceived pain in the after-death world. We should make him free from such scare. As long as we do not stop these installation activities, the thought of lack of truthfulness would continue to haunt him. It would trouble me as well. Canceling the installation arrangements, I wish to proceed to the forest as soon as possible. Satisfied with my exile the Queen Kaikeyi can proceed to install her son without any anxiety. She would be mentally happy by seeing me gone to the forest clad in bark and deerskin with a coil of matted locks on my head! It is not appropriate for me to blame the destiny that implanted the idea in Kaikeyi’s mind. I will proceed to the forest without delay!”

“Dear brother, you should only see the hand of Providence in my exile. Providence took back the kingdom once offered to me. How would the idea of causing me trouble arise in Kaikeyi’s mind without invoked by Providence? You know that I never had any discrimination among my mothers, nor she ever made any distinction between me, and her son. I cannot see any other reason than the hand of Providence for the bad and cruel words uttered by her while proposing to the King to send me to the forest. How is it that an accomplished and talented princess as she is, would speak like a street person near her husband to torment me! What is unforeseen is not preventable by created beings. Misfortune has struck to her and to me. Dear Lakṣmaṇa, the destiny is only experienced through its effects. How do you want to fight with it? Joy and sorrow, fear and anger, profit and loss, birth and death – nothing happens without the hand of the Providence. Sages engaged in severe austerities deflect and forego their discipline when Providence strikes! Surely it is the hand of Providence when something that had already commenced stops in an unexpected manner! Having steadied my mind in such manner I have no regrets that my installation is cancelled. Following me, you should restrain yourself from any regrets, and quickly eliminate any activity connected to the installation. I can use the water in these jars readied for my consecration for my bath to accept the vow of ascetic life. Otherwise, what would I do with all these water collected? Water drawn personally by me would be used to lead me to the vow of ascetic life! O’ Lakṣmaṇa, do not regret with the loss of fortune. It matters little to me if I am the King or I am in exile! The latter could even be better! Our younger mother or our father must not be held responsible for blocking the installation. They are themselves affected by the Providence. Please do know that all is the doing of Providence!”

Chapter XXII ends in 30 stanzas.

Chapter XXIII

Lakṣmaṇa’s head had sunk low. He listened silently to Rāma’s words but had a rage in him. His feelings were swinging between utmost grief and respectful delight. Knotting together his brows between two eyebrows, he hissed like a dangerous snake coming out of a hole. With the terrible frown on his face, he looked like an angry and upset lion. By shaking his hand violently as an elephant would do with its trunk, he started moving his neck upward and sideways. Looking through the corner of his eyes towards his brother, he exploded: “This noble discipline of duty has risen in you at the wrong time! How does this scare of lapsing from duty or creating suspicion among people arise in you unless you are agitated? How do you glorify this pitiable and impotent fate as an impotent person? Are not you supposed to be the best among the Kṣatriyas? How do you not suspect the intentions of these two wicked persons? My pious brother, why do not you think that there are fraudulent people pretending to be righteous? Had it not been the well-planned selfish manipulation by these two, the installation would not have been scheduled in the first place. If this business of granting a boon and receiving a boon is real, they could have handled it earlier. People do not like the installation of someone else as the Prince in lieu of you. I do not approve of it either. I beg your forgiveness, O’ my Hero! You are a bright person. I do not like the way you are distracting your thinking to your own “righteousness.” As a capable man as you are, why are you falling prey to the crooked plot of Kakeyi putting words in our father? I feel distressed that you are not recognizing the distrustful manipulation. You are associating yourself in false piety! People do not appreciate this kind of action from you. Who else besides you would fall into the desire of these two selfish individuals calling themselves as parents? They are real enemies who are always hostile to you! Even though you think that the fate creates situation, such thought must be ignored. I do not buy into this dependence on fate. Only the cowards and powerless people follow the decree of fate. Strong and secure people must not consider fate as a factor. A person capable of confronting fate by his own efforts never gets disheartened when struck by it.”

“People will see today the duel between the man and the fate. The distinction between man and fate would manifest. People who have stopped your installation would see today that human valor can vanquish fate. As an intoxicated and unrestrained elephant with liquid oozing from the lips, I will dash in speed to throw that fate away. Gods in all three worlds would be unable to block Rāma’s installation today, what to talk of our father? People who are plotting to send you to the forest would themselves be exiled for fourteen years to the forest! I will squash the hopes of father and of Kaikeyi who are making way to install their son by blocking yours. The power of destiny would not stand against my valor! My fierce fight would bring suffering to fate itself!”

“You can retire to the forest after you have taken care of people for a thousand years. Your children would rule the land. In the older days, the royal sages recommended forest living by committing their people to be cared for as their children by their own children. You are pious minded, you do not cherish the kingdom for fear of instability and indecision. Please rest assured that I would guard you as the coastline guards the ocean. Let the path of the heroes come to me if I fail in my task. Please join in the ceremonial rituals and let me single-handed take care of any opposing force. These arms are not just for show, and these bows are not simple ornaments. My sword is just not bound to my waist, and these arrows are not just for my support. These four are there for me to destroy enemies. I have no desire to be with people who have enmity to me. With my sharp-edged sword shining like the lightning I take on my enemies, let it be Indra! Severed with my sword, the earth will be covered with the heads and trunks of elephants and horses making it difficult to tread on. My enemies would fall on the ground as balls of fire like the rain falls on the ground with lightning. Is there a man who has courage to stand before me when I am dressed up with my battle gloves readied with my bow? My pounding weapons would hit the vitals of men, horses and elephants and eliminate them. My sword would handle many at one stroke! Today the ferocity of my weapons would manifest to respond to the poor judgment of the King and to establish your rule, my Lord! These arms of mine good for decoration with sandalwood and armlets, they distribute riches and protect people, would work today for the sake of Rāma. They will clear the obstacles coming in the path of your consecration. Tell me who your enemy is. I will deprive them of their life, position or family such that the entire world would be under your control! Please instruct me, I am at your service!”
Rāma, the inheritor of the great clan of Raghu, consoled his brother Lakṣmaṇa. He wiped away tears from Lakṣmaṇa’s face. He said in a resolute voice: “My dear brother, please know that I am completely dedicated to follow the commands of my parents. Such is only the path of righteousness.”

Chapter XXIII ends in 41 stanzas.

Chapter XXIV

Kauśalya was struck in grief, and was in tears. Observing that Rāma was determined to follow the father’s orders, she wailed and teased: “O’ Noble Soul! Born out of Daśaratha and me, who has never witnessed sorrow and speaks well of all beings, how would he live on leftover food in the forest? How would this Rāma, whose servants and followers eat specially cooked food, live on roots and fruits? Who would believe that the King has exiled his talented dear son to the forest? Who would not be fearful to hear this? It is true that the fate commands everything in the world, so the charming Rāma is going to the forest! The thought of not able to see you is acting as the wind to ignite the fire of my grief, my tears are pouring oblation to the fire! The thoughts connected to your return from exile are appearing as smoke in the fire. They torment me more causing me to breathe harder just to survive! In your absence, the fire of grief would consume me as the fire consumes forest after the winter. My boy, a cow follows her calf wherever the calf goes. I would follow you wherever you would go!”

Rāma remained unfazed to hear his mother’s emotional utterance. Kauśalya was extremely distressed. In a steady voice, Rāma spoke: “The king is betrayed by Kaikeyi. He would not survive if you stay away from him when I am gone to the forest. To reject a husband is a cruel act on the part of a woman. You should not think such unkindly act in your mind. You should provide care to my father, the King, as long as he lives. Such is the noble moral conduct.” Though distressed at heart, Kauśalya could not but be delighted to hear her son’s sage advice. She said, “So be it”. Rāma, the best among the righteous, spoke further to his mother: “Both you and I must carry out the commands of father. The King is your husband, my teacher, the best among all, and the guardian of us all. Sportingly stayed in the forest for fourteen years, I will return to be with you at your call.” With tears rolling, the affectionate Kauśalya broke down again: “In case you have made up your mind to go with your father’s words, please take me along with you to the forest as a deer that fits right in the forest. I would have difficulty to survive in the worldly living of my co-wives here!”

Kauśalya was crying. Rāma felt aggrieved himself. He spoke: “The husband is indeed the Lord for a living married woman. The King has the full control on both you and me. We are not helpless because of the wisdom of our King, the ruler. Bharata is also a noble-minded person and speaks kindly to all. He follows the path of righteousness. He would certainly serve you. Father would have stress when I depart for the forest. Please see that nothing bad happens to him, and that this severe stress does not take away his life. The most high-natured woman as you who is always at service for the old King and conducts herself through austerities and religious services, can get to sin if she does not follow her husband. Even a woman, who does not offer respects to the gods and refrains from worshipping them, gets the bliss of heaven by offering care to her husband. The Vedas and the Smṛti texts declare that dutifulness and kindness to husband are the greatest virtues of a woman. Dear Mother, do wait for my return by being engaged in fire rituals, and by offering flowers to the deities and the respected well-meaning scholars. Being disciplined in life and disciplined in food, and engaging yourself in the service of your husband, you would fulfill your highest desire through my return. Please allow the King, the best among all righteous men hold on to his life!”

Thus said by Rāma, the tear-eyed and anxious Kauśalya responded with a heavy heart feeling sorry for her son. She said: “My Son, I cannot restrain you from your resolute determination of going away. Destiny indeed is all-powerful. My good son, go, remain focused in your journey. Let all be well with you all the time. My misery would end when you return. Once you have accomplished your task successfully and have settled the debt on behalf of your father, I will indeed rest happily. Nobody can turn back the direction of fate as it is prompting you against my requests. O’ Mighty-armed boy, do go now and return back safe. On return, you would again entertain me with your sweet and delightful words. Let the present moment turn to your return moment from the forest such that I see you clad with bark with knotted locks on your head!”

The Mother Kauśalya could see in her mental eye the resolve of Rāma to proceed to the forest. She turned herself to chant benediction. She performed the scriptural rites to provide protection to Rāma in undertaking his exile.

Chapter XXIV ends in 38 stanzas.

Chapter XXV

The noble-minded Kauśalya tried to suppress her agony and pain. She took a sip of holy water and tried to perform the rituals for Rāma’s welfare. “I cannot prevent you from going away, O’ Best of the Raghus! Do go now and return after following the righteousness path as determined by you. O’ Strong Raghu! Let the righteousness you nurture through your discipline, protect you in the forest. Let the gods whom you offer respects in temples and shrines, and the sages protect you in the forest. Let Viśvāmitra’s gifted weapons applied by you with skill protect you all the time. O’ Mighty Armed Son! Let your services offered to your parents protect you giving long life! Let the holy fire-sticks, the kusha grass, temples, shrines, ritual sites, the mountains, the trees, the ponds, the lakes, the birds, the snakes, and the lions protect you, O’ Best on Men! Let the gods who give skills and the gods who protect earth be good to you. Let the winds and the sages remain kind to you. Let the Almighty God and the Creator God bring happiness to you. Let the gods Puṣa, Bhaga and Aryama look at you in favor. Let the guardian gods of various directions on earth including their leader Indra be good to you. Let the six seasons, the months and years bless you. Let the days and nights with all moments in them bring happiness to you. Let the Vedas, the Smṛtis and the power of righteousness protect you everywhere. Let the Lord Skanda, Lord Mahādeva, the Moon and Jupiter protect you. Let the celestial circle of seven sages and the Rṣi Nārada provide you protection everywhere.”

“Worshipped by me, let the celebrated Siddhas, the four quarters and their presiding deities guard you in the forest all the time. The mountains, the oceans, the King Varuṇa, the sky, the cosmos, the earth, the wind, all creatures, the stars, the planets, the gods presiding over the day and night and the intermediate times protect you in the forest! Like the seasons, the months and the years, let the smaller time units Kāḻa and Kāṣṭhā grant you happiness. Let the gods and demons be kind to you when we roam the great forest dressed as a hermit of wisdom! Let there be no fear to you, my dear son, from the terrible ogres, the cruel fiends or the flesh-eating animals. Let the water creatures, the scorpions, gnats and mosquitoes, reptiles and insects do not scare you in the deep forest! Let not the great elephants, the lions, the tigers, the bears, the strong-toothed animals, the buffaloes, the fierce horned animals go against you! Let the terrible cannibals and all other similar creatures keep away from you propitiated by me from here! Let your pathways be propitious, let your efforts succeed! Let you be blessed with all wealth! O’ My son, proceed in peace! Let the celestials and earthly creatures stay benevolent to you again, and again! Let all gods and the adversaries show kindness to you. Offered worship by me let the Venus, the Moon, the Sun, the wealth god Kubera, and the god of death Yama protect you in the Daṇḍaka forest. Let the Fire, the Air, the Smoke, the sacred words from the Rṣis protect you when you touch water, O’ Scion of Raghu! Let Brahmā, the lord of all worlds, the Rṣis and the remaining gods guard you while you stay in the forest!”

Thus saying, the illustrious Kauśalya offered worship to the gods using garlands, and incense. She recited appropriate benedictions. Duly procuring material for the fire and with the help of a noble Brāhmaṇa the well-featured Kauśalya had oblations offered properly to pray for Rāma’s welfare. She made available ghee, white flowers, firewood and mustard seeds for the service. After offering materials to fire through the scriptural rules, the priest invoked peace to all. Then he offered the remainders outside as bali . Then Kauśalya used honey, curd and grains of rice to have the assembled Brāhmaṇas recite blessings for the welfare of Rama in the forest. After the services, she offered the customary gifts to the priest as desired. Finally, she herself offered the benediction to Rāma: “Let the same celebratory blessings be showered on you as was done to Indra by all gods after the destruction of the demon Vṛtra. Let the same auspicious blessings come to you as Vinatā invoked on Garuḍa while he was seeking nectar. Let the same blessings shower on you as Aditi invoked on Indra after he killed the demons during the time of extracting nectar from the ocean. Let the same glory come to you as came to the inimitable Viṣṇu when he covered the world in three steps. Let the sages, the oceans, the continents, the Vedas, the people and all directions including their own auspicious objects shower blessings on you, O’ Mighty Armed!”

Offering benediction with rice on the head and applying sandalwood paste to Rāma, the wide-eyed Kauśalya gave him a token of security by tying a special herb viśalyakaraṇī as an amulet on his wrist while reciting a special mantra. Though deep in sorrow, she attempted to utter them in a happy voice. They came out only mechanically, not with heart and not with diction. The illustrious Kauśalya bent down and embraced her son. She smelt his head in affection. She said: “O’ Son, go happily to fulfill your tasks. I will see you in good health back in Ayodhyā moving happily on the main road when you would return after successfully completing your stay. Seeing you returned back from the forest would eliminate all grief in me and would bring joy to me. You would look like the full moon rising in the sky. O’ Rama, I will certainly see you returned from the forest after accomplishing the word of your father, and installed on the ceremonial throne! After returning from the forest and clad in festive robes, you would fulfill many desires of my daughter-in-law. O’ Scion of Raghu! Please go. Let Lord Siva, the sages, the spirits, the celestial serpents, the quarters and the gods worshipped by me bless you when you leave for the forest.”

Tears filled in her eyes. Deeply distressed, she completed the welfare rites as per rule. Looking at Rāma she went around him (pradakṣiṇa) again and again. Circumambulated by his mother, Rāma pressed his mother’s two feet repeatedly. Looking radiant through the benediction of his mother, the illustrious Rāma left for the residence of Sītā.

Chapter XXV ends in 47 stanzas.