RAMAYANA -EASY ENGLISH 2 IN 1

28. BHARATA BECOMES RAMA'S DEPUTY

 WHEN it was known that the four princes and the three queens were reunited and could be seen together in one place, a chorus of joy went up in the army and retinue and they came surging forward to witness that happy spectacle.

 They were sure now that Rama would return to Ayodhya and the people embraced one another for the very joy. 

The sage Vasishtha conducted the three queens to the hut.

 On the way, they saw the river Mandakini.

 When he showed them the spot where the princes daily took water for their use, Kausalya and Sumitra broke down and sobbed. 

Said Kausalya: "From this pool in the river, Sumitra, your son takes water to the ashrama every day.

 Lakshmana is prepared to do the commonest task cheerfully for his brother.

 He does not mind the weight of the water pot on his princely shoulder." 

They saw the spot where Rama and Lakshmana poured out libations for their father's Spirit. 

The darbha grass lay with the ends facing south, beside the oil cake.

 Kausalya clung to Sumitra and said: "O Sister! This is the food that the mightiest kings have to be content with after death." 

They reached the hut.

 There they saw the princes with faces clouded with sorrow, seated under a thatched roof. 

Unable to bear the sight, the royal mothers sank to the floor .When Rama lifted Kausalya tip, she stroked him with her flower-soft hands and was at once sad and happy. 

She embraced Sita and said: "My child, Janaka's daughter, daughter-in-law to the King of Ayodhya, do you live in this hut in the forest? 

O, faded lotus-flower! O, golden image covered with dust! My heart melts at the sight of you."

 Rama reverently touched the feet of Vasishtha who seemed another Brihaspati, the preceptor of the gods, come down to earth, and then sat by his mother. 

Bharata humbly sat apart facing Rama. 

The elders surrounded them, eagerly awaiting what Bharata would say and how Rama would react. 

"Bharata, why have you left your kingly duties and come here in deer skin and with matted locks?" asked Rama.

 Bharata attempted to speak several times, but at first could not get beyond the word 'Brother.' 

Then he pulled himself together with a great effort and said: "Sending you to the forest, but unable to bear the pain, our father's soul fled to heaven.

 All the good my mother has got from her evil plan has been that she has become a sinner and a widow and is in deep sorrow. Despised by the world, she experiences hell on earth. 

Only you can save us.

 Undo all the evil that has been done and wipe off our tears by agreeing to be crowned.

 It is to implore you for this that we and the citizens and the army and the widowed queens have come and are all here waiting on your word. 

Grant us our prayer. 

This alone will put an end to our sorrow and re-establish the dharma of our race. 

Without a rightful king, the land is like a widow, desolate and helpless. 

 You must come back and make it happy and secure. 

Like the full moon rising, dispel our darkness. The ministers here and I fall at your feet and beg of you.

 Do not refuse, O, brother!" 

Saying this, the great Bharata, with tear-filled eyes, clung to the feet of Ramachandra. 

Rama raised him from the ground and embracing him said: "Child, we were born in a noble family and brought up in good ways. Neither you nor I can do anything wrong. I see no fault in you, my blameless brother! Do not feel sad and do not speak unkind words about your mother. It is not proper that we should blame her. Surely our father had the right to tell us what to do, aye, even to decree banishment, just as he had the right to order a coronation. Our duty is to honor our father and our mother. How could I disobey or question their command? Was it for me to refuse my father's command that I should go to the forest? He gave you kingship and he ordained for me life in the forest. He certainly had the right to that I should go to the forest? He gave you kingship and he ordained for me life in the forest. He certainly had the right to settle the manner of our lives. What right do we have to alter or reject his plans? Far from being wrong, it is your duty to rule the land. And I too shall do my duty and fulfil our father's last command by living fourteen years in the Dandaka forest. Failing to fulfil our father's wish, can I find contentment in the possession of the whole world?" Bharata repeatedly besought and importuned Rama. Rama realised that Bharata grieved that it was for his sake that injustice had been done and that he endeavored to remove the blot.

 "Do not blame yourself," he said. "Do not think that all these things took place for your sake.

 Destiny rules everything. Give up your grief.

 Return to Ayodhya and rule the kingdom. Let us each perform Give up your grief. Return to Ayodhya and rule the kingdom. Let us each perform the duties assigned to us by the father we love and revere." The people who watched the talk and saw the determination of the prince were filled with joy and sorrow in equal measure. Bharata's affection and purity filled them with pride and joy. Rama told Bharata his unalterable decision.

 "I cannot possibly disobey my father's word. You will please me by not persisting in trying to persuade me. Satrughna is there to help you in ruling, as Lakshmana is here to help me in forest life. With Lakshmana by my side, I lack nothing. Let us all four, brother, do our other's will." 

The learned Jabali, one of the priests who had accompanied Bharata, here interposed a lesson on worldly wisdom for the benefit of Rama.

"You talk again and again of your father's command. 

Dasaratha was a physical body which has now rejoined the five elements. You talk as though there is some continuing relationship between that person who is now no more and yourself. This is sheer illusion. 

Why do you like the foolish prating of dharma and seek to give up the good fortune to which you were born? Like a woman mourning with dishevelled hair, the city of Ayodhya is plaintively longing and waiting for your return. Go back. Accept the crown. Enjoy life's pleasures. Listen to Bharata. Do not fail in your proper duties." 

This lecture angered Rama. 

He said with much sharpness: "Sir, you seem to set little value on truth and rectitude. Your materialist talk fills me with such abhorrence that I wonder that an unbeliever like you should have been tolerated in the court." Jabali hastened to explain that, far from being an infidel, he had all his life been a teacher of the Shastras and that he had only spoken as he had done out of an earnest wish to persuade Rama to return.

 Vasishtha also intervened on his behalf and that unlucky interlude came to an end. Vasishtha then put the case for Rama's return this way: 

"On the whole, my opinion is that you should return to Ayodhya and accept the throne. Of course, your father's command also has to be considered, and reconciled to this step. 

You have obeyed that command at once and unhesitatingly, but now a new situation has arisen. 

Bharata in his helplessness, fearing infamy, has sought shelter at your feet. How can you spurn him? We all know that you love him as your life. You never refuse those who approach you for help. How then can you deny it to Bharata now? Is it not your life-principle to help those who seek refuge at your feet?" But Rama showed no signs of relenting. 

Then, Bharata turned to Sumantra and said, "My brother has no pity for me. Please spread a bed of darbha grass here for me. I shall take the pledge of fasting unto death."

 Sumantra  hesitated and looked at Rama. Then Bharata himself fetched and spread the grass and sat on it. "My child, this is not right," said Rama firmly. "Rise. Go to Ayodhya and fulfil your duties. Do not go against Kshatriya dharma." Bharata got up and as a last resort appealed to the people who had accompanied him, a representative crowd of soldiers and citizens from Ayodhya: 

"O, citizens of Ayodhya! Why do you stand mutely looking on? Do you not want Rama to return? Why then are you silent?" The people answered: "Rama will not swerve from truth. He will stand firm by his father's promise. He will not return to Ayodhya. 

What is the use of pressing him further?" 

Rama said, "Listen to them, brother. They wish well by both of us.  They wish well by both of us. Virtue dwells in their hearts." Bharata said: "Here I am as guiltless as Rama and a fit substitute for him. If the King's word should be fulfilled let me stay here in the forest in place of Rama. Let him fill my place and rule in Ayodhya." Rama laughed and said: "This procedure of exchange cannot apply here. This is not trade or business for barter and agreement. It is true that sometimes one discharges the duties of another, when the latter is too weak and unable to do it. But how does it fit on this occasion? Can any of you say that for life in the forest I have no capacity but only Bharata has?" Then the wise Vasishtha found a solution for the problem in which righteousness struggled with righteousness as to which should be more right. 

"O, Bharata, rule the kingdom under Rama's authority and as his deputy. No blame would attach to you then and the pledge would be kept." Rama took Bharata on his lap and told him, "Brother, look on the kingdom as my gift to you. Accept it and rule it as our father wished." 

A glory descended on Rama and Bharata at that moment at they shone like two suns. 

Bharata said: "Brother, you are my father and my God. Your least wish is my dharma, Give me your sandals. That token of yours shall reign in Ayodhya till you return. And for fourteen years I shall stay outside the city and discharge the King's duties in your place, paying reverent homage to your sandals. 

At the end of that period, you will return and accept the kingship." "So be it," answered Rama.

 He placed his feet on the sandals and handed them to Bharata who prostrated himself on the ground and accepted them and put them on his head. Bharata and his retinue turned back towards Ayodhya. On the way, they met the sage Bharadwaja and reported what had happened. He blessed Bharata saying: "Your virtue will be for ever remembered. Are you not a son of the solar race? As water flows downwards, the virtue of your family runs its inevitable course in you. Your father Dasaratha is indeed happy. He is not dead but lives again immortally in you."

They met Guha again and crossed the Ganga and reached Ayodhya. 

Bharata and his followers entered Ayodhya. The city, bereft of the King and Rama, appeared desolate to Bharata. It seemed to be enveloped in the darkness of a moonless night. When he returned in haste from Kekaya, he had entered the city in fatigue and shapeless fear and suspense; but today he entered it again fully realising all the tragedy. He remembered the past and thought of the present and grieved afresh. He went to the palace and took the queens to their desolate apartments.He went to the assembly hall, and said: "Great is my sorrow. But I shall bear it. I shall stay in Nandigrama and carry out my tasks as I have promised Rama. Make all arrangements for this purpose." This was done and he solemnly announced in the assembly, "This kingdom is Rama's. For the time being, he has asked me to be in charge. In my brother's place I have installed his sandals. Deriving my authority from them I shall do my work as king." Accordingly, Bharata stayed in Nandigrama and with the help of ministers ruled the kingdom as a religious duty until Rama should return after completing his forest life. And indeed, is it not the law laid down in Scripture that one should serve the world unselfishly and without attachment, leaving the fruit of one's work at the feet of the Lord? Rama did his penance in the forest foof one's work at the feet of the Lord? Rama did his penance in the forest for fourteen years and all the time Bharata too did his penance at Nandigrama near Ayodhya

JAI SRI RAM/JAI SITA RAM/OM SRI RAM JAYA RAM JAYA JAYA RAM.

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9. VIRADHA'S END 

NOT far from Chitrakuta was an outpost of the Rakshasas, called Janasthana, in charge of a famous warrior named Khara, who was a brother of Ravana.

 From this station, fierce Rakshasas ranged the forest round, molesting the rishis in their isolated ashramas.

 They made life so insecure that the rishis abandoned their hermitages in the Chitrakuta region in spite of all that Rama could do to dissuade them. 

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After Bharata's departure Rama was not quite happy in Chitrakuta.

 The face of his beloved brother tearful with disappointment and the sad drooping form of his widowed mother were ever before his mind's eye.

 Now that the going away of the rishis had deprived him of even their companionship, the lonely hut was so full of sad memories that he made up his mind to seek some other resting place in the Dandaka forest.

 So they left Chitrakuta and proceeded to the hermitage of Atri, a rishi who knew the country, to seek his advice as to where they might establish themselves. 

They were most affectionately received and Sita won the heart of Atri's wife, the saintly Anasuya. Anasuya delighted at finding in Sita a perfect embodiment of wifely virtues, blessed her and presented her with beautiful garments and auspicious cosmetics that set out the charms of lovely young wives. Anasuya was the embodiment of pure womanhood and her gifts added beauty and inner strength to Sita. 

She received the gifts and said: "My Lord the prince loves me with the love of a mother and a father. I am indeed blessed." Then they made inquiries concerning the way and resumed their journey. Walking, through the great Dandaka forest, Rama, Sita and Lakshmana reached a spot where many rishis lived. Even as they approached the place, they saw the sacrificial materials, bark garments and deer skins spread out to dry and they knew it was a colony of holy men. The place was beautiful to look at. Birds and animals moved about with the freedom from fear born of affectionate familiarity with their human neighbors. Ripe fruits hung from the trees. The beautiful sound of Vedic chanting was heard. As they came near, they saw the radiant faces of the rishis. They welcomed Rama. "O, King! You are our protector," they said. "Whether we are in the town or in the forest, you are our king." And they gave the new comers all they needed and a place in which to rest. The following morning, the three took leave of the rishis and re-entered the forest, which was now denser than before and there were tigers and other wild animals. They proceeded slowly and cautiously. 

ccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc The   The forest was indescribably beautiful, with deer and bison, boars and elephants. The birds, the trees, the creepers, the blue waterlilies, all live again in the beauty of Valmiki's poetry. Rama was very happy these ten years, the joy of association with great and holy men being added to his joy in the quiet companionship of Lakshmana and Sita. These ten years are disposed of in a small chapter. Time happily spent seems short and needs no length in recording. When after ten years had thus passed, the end of their forest life was approaching, Rama wished to have darshan of the sage Agastya who lived in the south. The sage was, like Vishwamitra, famous through the three worlds. It used to be said that if all the wisdom and spiritual merit between the Himalayas and the Vindhyas were put on one scale and Agastya sat on the other, the  southern scale would go down by his weight. There is also the story of Agastya's service during the wedding of Siva and Parvati. All the rishis had gone to Mount Kailas for the great event. Agastya alone, staying in the south, maintained the balance of the earth. Once the Vindhya Mountain steadily grew towards the heavens and threatened to obstruct the sun's passage between the northern and southern hemispheres. The gods grew frightened and approached Agastya for help. The Sage stood before the mountain which bent low in reverence before him. Then he blessed it saving: "May you ever remain thus", and so the mountain stretches low and long even now. So goes the story.

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Two Rakshasas, Vatapi and Ilvala, gave much trouble to the rishis. The former had obtained a boon that no matter into how many pieces his body was cut up, they would all reunite and his body would be whole and strong as before.

 IIvala, disguised as a brahmana, would go to the ashrama of one rishi after another and say, "O Learned One! Go over to my humble home and oblige me by accepting the consecrated food prepared for my manes." On no account, according to ancient rule, could one refuse such an invitation. The rishis therefore had to accept the invitation. To them Ilvala served as food his brother Vatapi cut up and cooked lusciously and after the unsuspecting guests had eaten the meat, the host would, according to custom, ask the guests, "Are you satisfied?" The answer would be "Yes. We are content." Then, Ilvala would shout, "Vatapi Come out!" And at the call of Ilvala, Vatapi reunited into life would come out tearing the bowels of the guests. Many rishis had to die in this way. One day, Ilvala tried to play this trick on Agastya. As usual, Vatapi entered Agastya's entrails as meat. Agastya of course knew this, but he was a devotee of Ganapati and had obtained the power to digest the Rakshasa. "Are you satisfied?" asked Ilvala. "Yes, I am satisfied," answered Agastya. IIvala shouted, "Vatapi, come out." Agastya, laughing, said, "Vatapi has been digested, my host!" "What?" cried Ilvala. "Have you killed my brother?" And he rushed against Agastya. The Sage opened his eyes in indignation and the rakshasa was reduced to ashes. No rakshasas would thereafter come near Agastya and he protected the other sages also. Rama first went to the ashrama of Agastya's younger brother and obtained his blessings before visiting ashrama of Agastya's himself Proceeding south and approaching Agastya's place, Rama noticed the brightness of the whole region, the birds and animals playing about without fear and brahmanas gathering flowers for worship. He told Lakshmana to go in advance and announce him to the sage. Lakshmana met one of the disciples of the sage and sent word through him: "Ramachandra, son of Dasaratha, has come with his brother and wife . He said: "I heard of your having come to dwell in Chitrakuta, and I was looking forward to your visit. The end of your exile is approaching. Stay here during what remains of it in peace. This place is free from the fear of rakshasas." Rama answered: "I am happy to receive your blessing and I thank you for your gracious welcome. But I have promised protection to the rishis in

Dandaka and now that I have received your blessings, I must return to that forest." And Agastya answered: "What you say is right." Then the Sage gave to Rama the bow made by Viswakarma for Vishnu and an inexhaustible quiver, as well as a sword. He blessed him saying, "Rama, destroy the rakshasas with these weapons which of yore Vishnu gave me." Agastya advised the prince to spend the rest of his exile at Panchavati. "May God bless you, O, Prince," said Agastya, "take good care of Sita who for love of you cheerfully submits to hardships to which she was not born or accustomed. Women are by nature fond of comfort and averse to hardship but no such weakness is found in Sita. She is like Arundhati. Wherever you are, Ramachandra, with Lakshmana and Sita by your side, the place will be filled with beauty. But Panchavati is itself a beautiful spot and Sita will love to live there, secure in the protection of you both. Fruit and roots are there in abundance. Stay there on the bank of the Godavari. The period of your exile is coming to an end. You will soon fulfil your father's plighted word. Like Yayati, Dasaratha is served by his eldest son."

JAI SRI RAM.JAI SITA RAM/OM SRI RAM JAYA RAM JAYA JAYA RAM.

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 31. THE SURPANAKHA EPISODE 

THE Princes and Sita, following Agastya's instruction, took the way to Panchavati. On the way they met a huge figure perched on a big tree. They took it to be a Rakshasa. "Who are you?" asked Rama in an angry tone. The vulture however answered in a voice full of mildness and affection: "My child, I am your father's aged friend." Then he proceeded to tell his story. Jatayu was the brother of Sampati, the son of Aruna the dawn-god, who was brother to Garuda the great eagle-vehicle of Vishnu. He said: "When you leave Sita alone and go hunting in the forest, I shall be looking after her safety." The prince was pleased and accepted the offer of the bird with gratitude. They then proceeded on their journey. Rama was thrilled by the beauty of Panchavati and gratefully offered praise in his thoughts to Agastya for recommending the spot to them. He told Lakshmana: "We can build our ashrama and enjoy our stay here for any length of time. Those hills are near and yet not too near. Look at those herds of deer. The trees with their flowers and the sweetly singing birds, the river, the clean sand, everything is beautiful. Choose for us a good site and build a cottage." Lakshmana did as he was told. He constructed an ashrama. Valmiki pauses here to explai

Lakshmana did as he was told. He constructed an ashrama. Valmiki pauses here to explain the skill and swiftness of Lakshmana's workmanship. He describes in detail how the mud walls were raised and the thatched roof was made. Rama admires Lakshmana enthusiastically. "You are more than a father to me," said the prince shedding tears of love and joy. We, too, may pause to think how the noble prince Lakshmana acquired this skill. We may infer that in those days education even of princes included a knowledge of the realities of life and development of manual skill such as could enable one to collect materials in a forest and put a neat cottage for oneself. In the ashrama at Panchavati, Rama and Sita lived happily, lovingly served byIn the ashrama at Panchavati, Rama and Sita lived happily, lovingly served by Lakshmana. One morning in early winter the three went as usual to the Godavari for their bath and to offer their morning prayers and fetch water for the day's needs. Theywalked conversing about the beauty of the season. Lakshmana thought of Bharata and how he would then be busy performing the ceremonies appropriate to the month. He said: "Bharata is entitled to live in ease but he has taken on himself a life of hardship because we live a life of hardship in the forest. My heart is full of sorrow for him. Even in this cold weather poor Bharata no doubt eats sparingly and sleeps on the bare floor. This cold morning he too is probably walking towards the Sarayu. How fortunate we are to have such a noble brother! Pure in mind and speech and conduct, renouncing all pleasures, he lives a life of austerity for our sake. He is exactly like our dear father and quite the opposite of his mother. How could so cruel a woman as Kaikeyi bear so good a son?" Rama stopped him, saying: "Talk as much as you like of Bharata and our father, but stop condemning Kaikeyi. All that you say of Bharata is true and my thoughts too today go to him in love. How long yet to see him again? When shall we have that pleasure, Lakshmana? When shall we four brothers live together again? Bharata's loving words are still sweetly ringing in my ears." Thus thinking longingly of home and Bharata they bathed in the Godavari on that early winter morning. After offering oblations to their ancestors and prayers to the sun, Rama rose transfigured like the Lord Siva and returned to the ashrama with Sita and Lakshmana. Their morning duties over, they sat whiling the hours with wistful talk of old days and tales of long ago. While they were thus recapturing the past in sweet companionship suddenly there came a Rakshasa woman who saw them. She was Surpanakha, Ravana's sister who was roaming the forest full of the idle thoughts of well-fed ill-taught youth. She was horribly ugly, but had the magic power to assume any lovely form at will. When she saw the godlike beauty of Rama, she was filled with uncontrollable desire for him and accosted him. "Who are you, dressed like an ascetic but accompanied by a woman and carrying warlike weapons and arrows? Why are you here in the forest that belongs to the Rakshasas? Speak the truth." On such occasions it was the courtesy of those days for the person accosted to announce himself and recite his name, city and history and inquire of the newcomer concerning his or her family and the purpose of the visit. Rama began, "I am the eldest son of the great King Dasaratha. My name is Rama. This is my brother Lakshmana. And this is my wife Sita. Obeying the behests of my father and mother and in fulfilment of dharma, I am now in the forest. And now please announce who you are. What is your family? You look like a woman of the Rakshasa race. What is your purpose in coming here?" She answered, "Have you heard of Ravana, the heroic son of Visravas and the king of the Rakshasas? I am his sister. My name is Surpanakha. My brothers Kumbhakarna and Vibhishana are also renowned warriors. The lords of this region, Khara and Dushana, are also my brothers. They too are mighty men at arms and wield great authority in these regions. But I am not subject to their control, but am a free person, free to do what I like and please myself. Everybody in this

Everybody in this forest is, as a matter of fact, afraid of me." She said this to strengthen her wooing position. "The moment I set eyes on you," she continued, "I fell in love with you. You are now my husband. Why do you wander around with this midget of a woman! I am the mate worthy of you. Come with me. Let us wander at will through the forest. I can take what shape I please. Do not mind this girl of yours. I shall cut her up in a trice and dispose of her. Do not hesitate." Under the influence of lust, she thought in the manner of her race and prated thus. All this amazed and amused Rama. He smiled and said: "Oh beautiful one! Your desire for me will end in trouble for you. My wife is here with me. I do not care to live the life of a man with two wives. But my hefty brother here is untrammelled with a wife, and is as good-looking as myself. He is the proper husband for you. Offer your hand to him and leave me alone." Rama said this, being confident that Lakshmana would deal with Surpanakha suitably. The Rakshasi took Rama's advice seriously and approached Lakshmana saying, "Oh, my hero, come with me. Let us together wander at will in joy through this Dandaka forest." Lakshmana entered into the humor of the situation and said, "Do not be foolish. He is trying to cheat you. What is your status and what is mine? I am here a slave to my brother, while you are a princess. How could you become my wife and accept the position of a slave's slave? Insist on Rama's taking you as his second wife. Do not mind Sita. Soon Rama will prefer you to her and you will be happy with him." Some critic might ask whether it was proper thus to torment a woman, especially a woman in love. But if we exercise our imagination and have before us a monster of ugliness we can understand the situation. It is true that she could assume any charming form she chose, but in the intoxication of lust, she seems to have omitted even this allurement. "This ugly, corpulent and paunchy Rakshasi, with leering eyes blood-shot with lust, her red hair all dishevelled and her voice hoarse with passion, accosted the handsome, beautifully built and smiling Rama", says Valmiki. The Tamil poet Kamban varies the situation by making Surpanakha assume a lovely shape from the outset. Impelled by brute passion, the Rakshasi did as she was told by Lakshmana and went again to Rama. She thought and acted like a Rakshasi for she knew no other way of life. The sight of Sita enraged her. "It is this wretched little insect that stands between you and me. How could you love this girl without a waist? Look. I shall finish her off this instant. I cannot live without you. Once I have put her out of the way, you off this instant. I cannot live without you. Once I have put her out of the way, you and I shall live together happily." Saying this, she sprang on Sita. Rama intervened just in time to save Sita. The farce had gone too far and threatened to become a tragedy. Rama shouted to Lakshmana, "Look, I have just been able to save Sita. Attend to this monster and teach her a lesson." Lakshmana at once took up his sword and maimed Surpanakha and drove her out. Disgraced and mutilated, Surpanakha uttered a loud wail and disappeared into the forest. Bleeding and mad with pain and rage, she flung herself on the ground before Khara, as he sat in state with his colleagues. Yelling with anguish,  she related the story of her wrongs. The scorn and mutilation she had suffered was an insult to the Rakshasa race which only blood could efface. She said: "Look at me. Rama and Lakshmana have done this and they are still alive and roaming in your domain. And you sit here doing nothing." Khara stood up and said: "My dear sister, what is all this? I understand nothing. Calm yourself and tell me what has happened. Who dared to do this thing to you and is he in this forest? Who is he that wants to become food for crows and vultures? Who has stirred up the black cobra? Who is that fool? Where is he? Tell me, and he shall die at once. The earth is thirsty for his blood. Stand up and tell me everything as it happened."

 "Two handsome young men," said Surpanakha, "have come into the forest, dressed like ascetics and accompanied by a girl. They say they are the sons of Dasaratha. These two together, making an excuse of the girl attacked me and have hurt me thus shamefully. I am thirsting for the blood of these villains. Slay them first. Everything else can wait." Khara ordered his generals: "Go at once, slay these men and bring their lifeless bodies. Drag hither the woman also. Delay not." Fourteen generals set out to do his bidding. In Kamban's Ramayana, Surpanakha is delineated as having come in the shape of a beautiful young woman, entirely human, who tried to tempt Rama. Kamban departs widely from Valmiki in this episode and he makes a beautiful episode of it as will be seen in the next chapter. There are some people who pose as critics of our holy books and traditions saying, "This hero killed a woman. He insulted and injured a woman who offered him her love. He killed Vali from behind, rather than face him and accept honorable defeat. He unjustly banished Sita to the forest at the end of all the adventures. If the banishment of Sita was not unjust and if he rightly suspected Sita's fidelity, why then, we too, must suspect her fidelity." All such criticism is based on a mentality of hatred. We have unfortunately plenty of barren, heartless cleverness, devoid of true understanding. Let those who find faults in Rama see faults, and if these critics faultlessly pursue dharma and avoid in their own lives the flaws they discover in Rama, the bhaktas of Sri Rama will indeed welcome it with joy. If they exhibit the virtues of Rama and add to these more virtues and greater flawlessness, who can complain?

JAI SRI RAM/ JAI SITA RAM/OM SRI RAM JAYA RAM JAYA JAYA RAM.

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 32. KAMBAN'S SURPANAKHA

 RAMA and Lakshmana drove out Surpanakha, as one takes a stick and drives out a donkey straying into a garden. Such is the brief and simple treatment of this incident by Valmiki. Kamban, the Tamil poet, howeverKamban, the Tamil poet, however, deals with it more elaborately and has made a number of changes in the story. Sitting on the riverbank, Rama watched a swan walking and then looked at Sita, also walking. Noting the similarity in the gait, Rama was pleased and smiled. Sita, for her part, observed an elephant returning from the river and, reminded of Rama's gait, smiled. Thus in Panchavati, beside the river Godavari, love flowed smoothly between the banks of dharma. Just then fate conspired with lust to drag Surpanakha to the presence of Rama. The Lord Vishnu had left the Ocean of Milk and taken birth as Dasaratha's son, to rid the earth of the enemies of the gods. But how was Surpanakha to know this? 

Beholding the beauty of his person, she wondered: "Is this Manmatha or Indra or Siva or Vishnu? But Manmatha has no body. Indra has a thousand eyes and Siva has third eye in the forehead, and Vishnu has four arms; so he cannot be Indra, Siva or Vishnu. Perhaps, after all, this is Manmatha who has recovered his body through penance, after it had been reduced to ashes by Siva's wrath. If it beManmatha, why should this handsome hero still perform penance? Why should this lotus-eyed youth waste his time in tapas?" So she stood there wondering, watching, unable to turn her eyes away. She thought, "My own form would fill him with disgust. I shall change my appearance and then approach him." She transformed herself into a beautiful young woman and appeared before him like the full moon. Her slender frame was like a golden creeper climbing up the Kalpaka tree in Heaven. Her lovely lips and teeth were matched by her fawn-like eyes. Her gait was that of a peacock. Her anklets made music as she came near. Rama looked up and his eyes beheld this creature of ravishing beauty. She bowed low and touched his feet. Then she withdrew a little with modesty shading her eyes. Rama welcomed her, imagining that she was a visitor from some distant place and inquired: "Which is your place? What is your name? Who are your kinsfolk?" She answered: "I am the daughter of the grandson of Brahma. Kubera is a brother of mine. Another is Ravana, conqueror of Kailasa. I am a maiden and my name is Kamavalli. And what is your purpose in coming here? It is not proper for a woman to speak out the trouble in her mind. And yet I suppose I must speak it out. The God of Love has invaded my heart. You can and should save me." She paused. Rama remained silent. And she went on. "You may wed me with Gandharva rites. You know it is permitted for lovers to come together in this manner. Once we are joined in this way, not only will happiness be ours, but friendship between you and my brother, the great Ravana, will follow. You are alone in this forest and the Rakshasas will molest you. Even if you do not provoke them, they will give you trouble because you are dressed as an ascetic. If you marry me, you will be free from all this danger. Not only that, my powerful people will be ready to serve you in all ways. Consider this well." Thus she pleaded for the fulfilment of her desire, citing authority and appealing to Rama's self-interest also. Rama laughed revealing his beautiful pearly teeth. Just then, Sita was coming towards them through the plants and creepers, herself looking like another creeper. Surpanakha saw and marvelled at her loveliness. Not knowing whom she was, Surpanakha angered by lust, told Rama: "This girl is a Rakshasi in human formShe has come to deceive you. Beware of her. Demonic is not her real form. She is a Rakshasi that eats raw meat. Throw her out. Have nothing to do with her." Rama laughed again. "You are indeed wise," said he. "You have found out the truth about her." Meanwhile, Sita had come and stood by Rama. Surpanakha could not understand what Rama was laughing for. In her lust, she had quite lost her wits. She hissed at Sita: "Why do you approach this hero of mine, oh Rakshasi? Go away from here." Sita, bewildered and afraid, hung on the prince's shoulder, and she then seemed like a lightning flash hugging a rainbearing cloud. Rama now saw that the joke.Rama now saw that the joke had gone too far and said: "Dear lady, please stop, lest my brother should hear you. He is quick-tempered and terrible when angry. I advise you to go back quickly the way you came." Saying this, Rama took Sita with him and went into the hermitage. The fire of her desire unquenched, the Rakshasi spent the night somewheresomehow. In the morning, she thought: "I shall die if I do not get this man. So long as this girl is with him, he will never come near me. I must contrive to carry her off and put her away somewhere and then I may secure his love." Thus resolved, she came again to the ashrama. Rama had gone to the river for his morning ablutions and prayer and Sita was alone in the ashrama. Surpanakha reckoned this was her chance to carry her off. She did not notice that Lakshmana was in the wood nearby. She rushed towards Sita. Lakshmana shouted and sprang on the Rakshasi. Catching hold of her hair, he kicked her and drew his sword. Surpanakha when attacked resumed her own shape and at tacked Lakshmana. Lakshmana easily caught hold of her and mutilated her and drove her off. Surpanakha ran into the forest, bleeding and loudly appealing to her kinsfolk: "Oh, brother Khara! Oh, brother Ravana! Oh, Indrajit! Oh, kings of the Rakshasa race! Are you all asleep? A mere man has insulted me and cut off my nose. Do you not hear my lamentations?" This is Kamban's version of the episode. Surpanakha approaches and tries to attract Rama, hiding her true form and appearing like a beautiful human girl. This variation is supported in a way by Valmiki's description of Surpanakha as Kamarupini, that is, one able to assume what form she liked. The Tamil poet appears to have felt something wrong or wanting in Valmiki's story and has woven an episode showing how bestial passion works.

JAI SRI RAM/ JAI SITA RAM/OM SRI RAM JAYA RAM JAYA JAYA RAM.

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 33. KHARA AND HIS ARMY LIQUIDATED ACCOMPANIED 

by the fourteen generals of Khara, Surpanakha came back to Rama's ashrama, determined to avenge herself and drink the blood of the princes. Pointing to the two young men, she told her escort, "Look, there stand the men who insulted and mutilated me. Slay them immediately." Rama understood the situation at once and told Lakshmana: "Take care of Sita for a while, while I deal with those fellows." Saying this, he took up his bow. Following the prevailing rules of war, Rama announced himself to Khara's generals and said, "Tell us the reason that you come here. Know that we are here in the forest at the bidding of the rishis for the purpose of destroying their enemies. If you wish to escape with life, leave us alone." But the Rakshasas wanted not peace, but war. And the battle began. It did not take long for Rama's arrows to annihilateBut the Rakshasas wanted not peace, but war. And the battle began. It did not take long for Rama's arrows to annihilate the Rakshasa generals. Once again, lamenting loudly, Surpanakha went to Khara. The destruction of the powerful detachment he had sent was inconceivable. He could not believe it. He sought to soothe his disturbed sister with soft words. "I have sent warriors unconquerable, each one like Yama. They must have by now fulfilled their mission. Why do you weep'? Why need you bewail while I am here?" Surpanakha rose, and wiping the tears from her eyes, said: "True, you sent your fourteen warriors with me. But the fourteen now lie stiff and cold in deathslain by Rama, whose skill with weapons baffles description. If you have a spark of pride in you, start at once, fight with Rama and save the Rakshasa race. If you do not, the destruction of our people is certain. But if you are afraid, tell me so and I shall understand. These young men who have entered your satrapy are determined to destroy your race, unless you first meet and destroy themThese words, spoken by his sister in a loud voice before all his courtiers, pierced Khara's heart. "Why do you speak thus terrified by a puny human being? Hold yourself in patience for a moment and you will have his blood to drink." So saying, Khara rose. "Do not go alone!" she said. "Take your army with you." Khara gave orders accordingly. A great army, fully armed, went in advance under the leadership of Dushana. Behind the army Khara proceeded majestically in a chariot. On the way he met with many bad omens which affected the spirits of his host. He laughed and reassured his army, saying: "Never have I been so far defeated in battle. Do not mind these portents. We shall soon crush these two little men and return in triumph." The army took heart at these bold words of their leader. Hearing the tumultuous noise of the approaching army, Rama and Lakshmana prepared for battle. Rama told Lakshmana: "Do you see the signs? It is certain that the Rakshasas of Janasthana are coming here to their death! I see in your face the glory of the victory that awaits us. Arm yourself and take Sita with you to a cave in the hill and look after her. I shall encounter the Rakshasa hordes and destroy them. Go at once. I do not require any help." Saying this, Rama put on his armor and strung his bow. Lakshmana did as Rama bade and took Sita to a mountain cave. A great battle was to follow. So the Devas and Gandharvas hovered in the heavens to watch the fight. They uttered benedictions and prayed for Rama's victory. The rishis had misgivings. How was Rama, standing single, to meet and quell this huge army? As Rama stood there, bow in hand, the radiance of his face was like that of Rudra himself when he bent his great bow Pinaka. The Rakshasa force advanced in proud array, with drums and trumpets and the clanking pageantry of war filling the quarters with clamor and causing the denizens of the forest to stampede in all directions. Rama stood holding his bow with his band on the string. Like great black clouds disturbing the sun the Rakshasa hordes surrounded him. The battle began. But while even the Devas wondered how he could withstand the yelling masses which rushed on him, a constant stream of deadly arrows sped from his bow before which the Rakshasa ranks withered and fell like moths before a blazing fire. Dushana himself now stood in front of Rama. Rama bent his bow and senDushana himself now stood in front of Rama. Rama bent his bow and sent his shafts in all directions in an unceasing stream. Like rays from the sun, and with the speed of light, arrows shot out from the spot where Rama stood, spread out in all directions and brought down warriors, chariots, elephants and horses. The shafts pierced the bodies of the Rakshasas and came out, covered with their blood shining like fire. The army was utterly destroyed and Rama stood still, like Siva at the end of Time. Dushana came again with another great army. For a while he seemed indomitable. But soon Rama's arrows laid low his chariot, drivers and horses. He jumped down and sprang towards Rama. Rama's arrows, however, severed his arms from his trunk. And the monster fell dead onarrows, however, severed his arms from his trunk. And the monster fell dead on the ground like a huge elephant. Other Rakshasas, who saw Dushana falling, rushed against Rama and were also slain by the arrows that sped from his Kodanda bow. In this way, the whole army of Khara was destroyed. It had come roaring like an ocean and now it lay still, a mass ofcorpses and severed limbs and derelict weapons and broken chariots. Only Khara and Trisiras remained. As Khara rushed forward to meet Rama, Trisiras stopped him saying: "I shall go first and kill Rama. Or else, I shall be killed. After I am dead, you may meet him." The three-headed Rakshasa mounted on his chariot attacked Rama with his arrows. Rama met them with arrows that hissed like deadly serpents. At last Trisiras collapsed and fell spitting blood. His followers fled like deer. Khara, seeing this, cried: 'Hold' to the fugitives and directed his chariot against Rama. His confident pride was gone but he fought manfully. The shafts sent by the two warriors covered the sky. Khara stood like Yama in his chariot, sending his stream of arrows. For an instant, Rama leaned on his bow. In that interval Rama's armor was pierced by Khara's arrows and showed the prince's body shining like the sun. Rama now took up the bow of Vishnu and laid low Khara's chariot and cut his bow in twain. Khara then took his mace and approached Rama. The Devas and rishis watching the battle became anxious and renewed their benedictions. "You have been a terror and a plague to mankind!" exclaimed Rama. "Strength of body is no protection to an evil-doer. You have persecuted and killed rishis engaged in penance in the forest. You will now receive the punishment due for these sins of yours. The spirits of the rishis whose flesh you fed on are now witnessing your punishment from their aerial chariots. I have come to the Dandaka forest to destroy wicked Rakshasas. My arrows will pierce the bodies of all your kinsfolk. Your head will soon roll on the ground like a ripe fruit." "Human worm!" exclaimed Khara. "Son of Dasaratha! Have done with boasting! You are proud because you have killed a few common Rakshasas. A hero boasts not as you do. Only a Kshatriya banished by his people can talk boasting like this. You have shown you can brag. Let us see now if you can fight! Your words have blazed up like burning straw with little heat or life. Here I stand mace in hand, like Yama to take your life. Evening approaches. Be prepared to lose your life. I am here to avenge the death of these my followers whom you have killed." So saying, he whirled his mace, andSo saying, he whirled his mace, and hurled it at Rama. The mace was split by Rama's arrows into splinters which fell harmless on the ground. "Have you finished speaking, Rakshasa? Now you shall die. This forest will be safe hereafter and the rishis will live in peace," said Rama. Even while Rama was speaking, Khara pulled out by its roots a huge tree, and gnashing his teeth, threw it at Rama. But this too Rama split by his arrows. And fearing further delay, he aimed deadly darts at Khara. The wounded Rakshasa sprang on Rama intending close combat with him. But the latter avoided contact by stepping back and laid him dead with a shaft which clove his breastThe Devas showered flowers from on high and cried in joy: "Rama has killed the sinful Rakshasa. Men can live in peace in the Dandaka forest hereafter. Within an hour Rama has destroyed Khara, Dushana, Trisiras and their whole army. Indeed he is a hero." Sita and Lakshmana returned from the cave. Lakshmana embraced Rama and rejoiced that single-handed he had fulfilled the promise of safety he had given to the rishisHow did Rama all alone perform these feats? If one observes a cow guarding her calf and scattering a whole crowd of men, one can realise the power of love. Love is a supreme quality which according to occasion manifests itself in diverse heroic forms such as valor and self-sacrifice, just like gold which can be changed for silver or goods or other things of value. When God assumes human form and is engaged in fulfilling His promise to save the helpless, His limitless power comes into play. 

JAI SRI RAM/JAI SITA RAM/ OM SRI RAM JAYA RAM JAYA JAYA RAM.

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RAMAYANA AND EASY ENGLISH -2 IN 1

25. INTRIGUE WASTED 

Now Bharata understood everything and realised the enormity of the harm wrought by his mother. 

Overwhelmed by grief and near, he could not control himself. 

At the thought of what she had done and the eternal infamy she had incurred, his grief grew wild and he hurled cruel words at her. "What have you done?" he cried. 

"Did you ever hope to make me accept the kingdom? 

Deprived of such a father and such a brother, am I likely to care for power? 

After causing the death of the King and the banishment of Rama, you ask me to take their place and rule the land. 

This is like pouring oil into the fire of my grief. 

How unfortunate was my father to have chosen you for a wife! Kausalya and Sumitra will also die of grief. 

Oh, how could you bring yourself to do this to Rama who was so devoted to you?

 Revered mother Kausalya treated you like her own blood-sister. How could you think of plotting against her beloved son?

 And did you not know how much I loved Rama? 

Greed destroyed your understanding.

 How else could you so foolishly plan for my happiness? 

Even the great King relied on Rama and Lakshmana.

 How could you believe that in their absence I could rule the kingdom? 

And, even if I could, would I agree?

 Never will your wish be fulfilled through my cooperation. 

I can no longer regard you as my mother. 

I cut myself off from all relation with you and decline to regard you as my mother. 

How could you ever think of setting aside rule and custom and getting a younger son crowned? 

Would not the world revile us for all time? 

The general law of kings and the tradition of our family cannot be violated. 

I will not carry out your wish.

 I shall go to the forest and bring Rama back. 

I shall set the crown on his head and rejoice in being his loyal servant."

 To understand Bharata's feelings, we should keep in mind his innate noble nature, his love for Rama, his grief for his father and the sense of guilt and shame that for his sake his mother had done this grievous wrong. 

We should not weigh his words in dry air and a chemical balance. In such contexts, poetry flashes fire.

 One sees it both in Valmiki and Kamban.

 Bharata raised his voice and spoke again: "Banish Rama indeed! It is you that ought to be banished, cruel woman, who have forsaken the path of dharma. 

So far as you are concerned you may take it that I am dead, for I would rather be dead than be son to a murderess!

 Murderess of your husband! 

You are not the daughter of the good King Asvapati. 

You are a Rakshasi.

 To what hell should you go, you, who banished the only child of mother Kausalya? 

What punishment would be too great for the grief you have caused her?

 Kamadhenu, the cow-mother, had hundreds of thousands of children, yet she shed tears at the sight of the suffering of two bulls yoked to a plough and her tears scalded Indra on his throne in high Heaven. 

And Kausalya's only child you sent to the forest, hoping thus that you and I could be made happy! 

I shall do the obsequies and go to the forest and fall at the feet of Rama and bring him to his kingdom.

 And then, to cleanse myself of the sin and the shame you have brought on me, I shall lead the life of an ascetic in the Dandaka forest. 

What a flood of sorrow have you let loose on the earth? 

By what penitence, by what self mortification, can you redeem yourself?

 I shall go myself at once to Rama and get rid of my guilt by restoring the kingdom to him."

 Finding no relief for his anguish by angry words, sighing like a young elephant newly captured, hot tears-falling from his eyes, he felt he could bear no longer the sight of his mother and rushed to Kausalya's apartment, there to find a better place to give vent to his sorrow. 

Thus did Kaikeyi's castle in the air go up in smoke. 

She lay down on the floor and wept.

 The most painful of all reflexions is that of a crime perpetrated in vain. 

Among the characters in the Ramayana, Bharata is the perfect embodiment of virtue.

 In the villages of the North, the people celebrate an annual festival for the episode of the meeting of Rama and Bharata at Chitrakuta, which they consider the most sanctifying part of the Ramayana epic. 

There have been through the ages great and noble souls whose virtue shines eternally in the midst of the sordid self-seeking of a sinful world, as a beacon light to seekers of the right path, and as a token of the god in man.

 Soon the news of Bharata's arrival spread throughout the palace. Kausalya, still laboring under her grief, heard this, and was glad and told Sumitra, "Come, let us go and meet Bharata."

 Hardly had they taken a couple of steps when they saw Bharata himself rushing wildly towards them to plead for mercy. Kausalya's first thought when she heard of Bharata's arrival was that he had hastened back to assume the fortune which had come to him. 

Had not the elders and ministers, led by Vasishtha, decided to send for Bharata so that he might perform his father's obsequies and be crowned king?

 Hence, seeing Bharata, Kausalya, her heart desolate with her loss of husband and son, said in a low voice: "Bharata, the kingship is waiting secured for your sake by Kaikeyi. 

You need not fear any let or hindrance from us. 

Take it, and may all happiness be yours. 

Only one boon I crave of you to let me join your father on the funeral pyre."

 These words were like stinging poison in Bharata's ears.

 He fell at her feet and clung to them, unable to speak.

Kausalya said again: "Oh Bharata, at least take me where Rama is in the forest." 

Unable to bear all these piteous words of Kausalya and unable to speak, Bharata fell into a swoon.

 After a while he sat up and said: "Mother, why do you thus torture me who am innocent? 

You know I was far away and knew nothing of the wicked things going on here.

 Do you not know the love I bear for Rama? 

Would I ever do such a thing to him?

 May all the sins of the world descend on me if I had the least notion of the evil brewing here! 

I had nothing to do with it. 

I have no desire to reap its fruit."

 He raised his hands and recited all the horrible sins that one could commit and invoked on himself the punishments due to them if he had any part in the plot.
In those days as now it was hard for a son to prove that he knew nothing of a scheme carried out by his mother for his benefit. Bharata could only swear his innocence again and again. 

He cared nothing for kingdom or wealth or power
and it was a terrible torment to him that Kausalya should think him capable of greed for them at the expense of his brother.

 Indeed such a thought was hardly less cruel and unjust than Rama's exile! 

He could never accept the crown which was his beloved brother's birthright. 

His passionate sincerity convinced Kausalya of the injustice of her suspicions, and her heart went out to him. 

Tenderly she raised him from the ground and took his head on her lap and caressed him as though he were Rama himself. 

"My dear son, my grief is doubled by seeing the pain raging in your innocent heart.

 What shall we do child? 

We are the playthings of fate.

 May the reward of goodness come to you in this world and the next!" 

Kausalya had not believed Bharata privy to the plot, but she feared that he would condone it and yield to the temptation of its results.

 Now she was convinced that Bharata's heart was completely free from stain. 

Though her own son had gone to the forest, she was pleased that such another son had come to her in his place. 

Here, Kamban beautifully sings how Kausalya shed tears of joy over Bharata and embraced him imagining that Rama himself had returned from the forest. 

Kausalya said amidst her sobs: "Many were your ancestors who attained fame. 

You have surpassed them all in glory by renouncing the kingship that has come to you. 

You are indeed king among kings." 

The Kausalya and Bharata portrayed by Kamban embody a culture. 

May these heroic figures and that culture live forever in the land of Bharata! 

The obsequies of the dead King were duly performed. 

Vasishtha and other learned men and elders offered grave shastric consolation to Bharata and Satrughna. 

Fourteen days after the King's demise, the ministers called the Assembly and addressed Bharata thus: "The King has gone to the world above. 

Rama and Lakshmana are in the forest. 

The land is now without a king.

 It is right that you should assume the rule at our request. 

The preparations for the coronation are all complete. 

The citizens and ministers are awaiting your acceptance. 

This is your kingdom lawfully descended from your ancestors, It is for you to be anointed and rule righteously over us.

" Bharata went with folded hands round the materials gathered for the coronation and said in grave tones to the assembled elders: "I do not consider it proper that you should ask me thus to accept the kingdom. 

According to the custom of our house, the throne belongs to the eldest son. 

 With all respect to you, I have decided to go to the forest and bring Rama back to Ayodhya with Lakshmana and see that Rama is crowned.

 Please get ready the men and materials for this purpose.

 Prepare the road for the journey. 

Let laborers be mobilised for it.

 It is my final and irrevocable decision not to accept the crown." Listening to the prince's words, the whole assembly was beside itself with joy. 

They applauded Bharata's suggestion. 

The army and a big retinue were got ready to accompany the prince to the forest. 

Quickly an army of workers with their tools went forward to prepare the road. 

Men who knew the forest, pioneers who could dig wells and canals, builders of rafts and boats, carpenters and engineers, worked enthusiastically, because they were engaged in getting beloved Rama back.

 Culverts were built, trees felled, a broad road for the prince and his retinue was soon laid.

 Ups and downs were levelled, marshes drained,
resting-places for the army and facilities for drinking water and all other conveniences were soon made ready. 

Though thus preparations were made for Bharata's journey to the forest, Vasishtha and the other ministers formally summoned the Assembly again.

 They did not give up their desire to get Bharata to agree to be crowned.

 They sent messengers to Bharata palace and invited him to the Hall. 

They approached him with music playing on many instruments. All this pained him. 

He stopped the musicians and sent the messengers back and told Satrughna: "Why should they still persist in tormenting me when I have refused the kingdom?

 This is the result of our mother's intrigue.

 My father has gone to Heaven leaving me to bear all this alone. The land needs a king; without one it drifts like a rudderless and derelict ship. 

We must soon get Rama back." 

The Assembly sat eagerly looking for the entrance of the blameless prince.

 He entered the Hall as the full moon rises in the sky He bowed to the elders and sat down.

 Vasishtha said: "This kingdom has been given to you by your father and your brother Rama. 

Accept it and protect us according to ancient custom."

 Bharata's heart was far away with Rama.

 Tears fell from his yes.

 The young prince wept aloud in the midst of the royal Assembly and in a voice struggling with tears, he addressed words of respectful reproach to the preceptors: "How can you ask one of my race and upbringing to usurp what belongs to another far nobler and more worthy than I? 

Can any son of Dasaratha possibly dream of such iniquity?

 This kingdom and I, and all else in it belong to Rama.

 He is the eldest son, the noblest among us, a lover of dharma, an equal to Dilipa and Nahusha of old. 

He is the rightful king. 

He is fit to be sovereign in the three worlds. 

Standing here I pay my homage to Rama there in the forest.

 He is the King, not I." 

The Assembly burst into tears of joy when they heard Bharata speak thus. 

And Bharata continued: "If I am unable to persuade King Rama to agree, I shall stay there performing penance. 

It is your duty, O Elders, to use every means to bring Rama back. I shall do all I can to make Rama come back to Ayodhya and make him King." 

He then ordered Sumantra who was standing near him to hasten the preparations for going to the forest. 

The city rejoiced in anticipation of Rama's return, for all felt sure that nothing could resist the force of Bharata's dutiful love. 
JAI SRI RAM/JAI SITA RAM/OM SRI RAM JAYA RAM JAYA JAYA RAM.

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26. BHARATA SUSPECTED

26. BHARATA SUSPECTED GAZING across the river Ganga, Guha, the hunter-king, noticed unusual commotion on the bank opposite. A great army had encamped there. He pointed it to his kinsmen standing by his side and said: "Who is this and why has he come here with a large army, apparently to cross the river? The flag suggests that it is Kaikeyi's son Bharata and his army. Yes, I see the flag flying on the top of the chariot and I can recognise the tree painted on it. That is the flag of the King of Ayodhya. Is not Rama's enemy, Bharata, the King of Ayodhya too? Having secured the kingdom unjustly through his mother Kaikeyi, it looks as though he has pursued Rama here to slay him. Get together our warriors and kinsmen and f

kinsmen and friends. Let them stand ready on this bank. Gather all the boats and fill them with armed men ready for battle. Let us wait and see. If the newcomers are well disposed towards Rama, we shall help them to cross the river and come over to this side. But, if

their intention is hostile, we shall prevent them from crossing the Ganga." And so having made all preparations, Guha, in accordance with rules of courtesy, took some presents, got into a boat and went to meet Bharata. On the other bank at the same time Sumantra, was telling Bharata: "Look! Guha, the hunter-king, devoted friend of Rama, has come with his people to welcome us. He is the ruler of this region. He and his kinsmen are well acquainted with every nook and corner of this forest. They could tell us where Rama is to found and lead us safely and swiftly to the place." Meanwhile Guha crossed the stream and, approaching Bharata, bowed and said: "Though we have been taken by surprise by your unexpected visit, still all that is mine here you may consider as your own and command me. I consider it an honor to be able to welcome and entertain you and your army." Bharata answered: "It is very kind of you, O friend of my brother, to offer hospitality to such a large army. I wish to proceed to the hermitage of Bharadwaja. We do not know the way, and, we also need to cross this great river." Guha bowed before him with clasped hands and said politely: "My lord, my servants and myself are ready to go with you and act as guides. But you must excuse me for expressing a doubt which occurs to me on seeing this large army you have brought. Surely you have no intentions hostile to Rama?" Pained by these words and from a heart clear and pure as the summer sky, Bharata said: "Alas, what greater shame can come to me than this, that men who love Rama should fear and suspect me? Have no misgivings, Guha. Rama is my father now, for he has taken the place of my lost father. I have come here to beg of him to return to Ayodhya. I swear, I have no other purpose in my mind." Guha rejoiced to see in Bharata's face his intense love for Rama and his grief at what had happened. He said: "My Lord, who in the world can equal you in sacrifice? Who but you would renounce such wealth and power coming to him unsought? Your glory will shine forever." The hunter-king supplied Bharata's army with all it needed. The hosts and the guests retired for the night. The meeting with Guha only increased Bharata's sorrow. Bharata was endowed with a heart of utter innocence. He sighed and said: "AIas, that it should come to this," and rolled sleepless on the ground. His whole body burned with thoughts of the infamy that had come as a cloud over him, his father's death and the parting from Rama. Guha spoke words of comfort and tried to console him. This meeting of

Guha spoke words of comfort and tried to console him. This meeting of Bharata and Guha and the way they shared their sorrow is an episode dear to the Vaishnava Alvars and other true Bhaktas. Bharat questioned: "What food did Rama take when he was here? Where did he sit? Where did he sleep? What did he say? And what did he do?" Guha answered every question lovingly and pointed the spot where Rama had slept. And when he was asked, "Where did Lakshmana sleep?" He replied: "Lakshmana said, 'When Rama and Sita lie stretched on the bare earth, how can I sleep?' and he shed tears and, like me, stood on guard the whole night, bow in hand." As Bharata pictured this scene, his

As Bharata pictured this scene, his grief became unendurable. He saw the spot where Rama and Sita had slept that night and showed it to the weeping queens. Asked what Rama ate, Guha answered: "My Lord, they fasted that night.

Lakshmana brought some water and Rama drank of it and handed it back to Lakshmana to drink. The food brought was returned untasted. The following morning, they matted their locks and walked into the forest." Bharata had found some relief from sorrow in his resolve to seek out Rama and persuade him to return, but his talk with Guha and the sights he saw brought it back in full flood. "For my sake, Rama, you slept on the grass. I have seen the spot and still live. And they want me to wear a crown, on top of all this!" Thus he lamented inconsolably. Then he told himself: "I shall somehow take Rama back and seat him on the throne. If he wants his vow fulfilled, I shall replace him in the forest for fourteen years. He will agree to this arrangement as it is only right and proper." Thus he calmed himself. Early next morning, Bharata woke up Satrughna: "What are you still sleeping? The day has already dawned. The army has to cross the river. We should send quickly for Guha and arrange for the journey." Satrughna answered: "I am not asleep, brother. Like you I spent the whole night thinking of Rama." While they were speaking, Guha arrived and after courteous greetings announced that he had a fleet of many boats ready. All the baggage and the whole army were put on boats. The loaded vessels crossed the great river. The transport across raised a joyous clamor like some great festival. The people did not see the sorrow in Bharata's heart for they had concluded, even when Bharata set out, that Rama would surely return. They went forward rejoicing that soon Rama would be in their midst as crowned king and all their recent sorrows would pass like a bad dream. Valmiki describes the scene on the bank of the Ganga in a way that recalls to one a crowded railway station during a popular festival. When the whole army had crossed the river, Bharata followed it in a boat specially fitted up for him. They reached the ashrama of Bharadwaja. The story of Bharata in the Ramayana portraying a character of unrivalled purity and sublime selflessness is something, more than an episode, and stands out by itself even in that noble epic, as holy shrines do on the banks of the Ganga. It uplifts the heart, and gives one a glimpse of the heights to which human nature can rise when cleansed by love and 

nature can rise when cleansed by love and devotion. Whether Rama and Bharata were incarnations of the Deity or merely supreme creations of a nation's imagination this episode is among the masterpieces of the world's literature. Jnana and bhakti will automatically grow by a contemplation of the personality of Bharata. In order to recreate the scene and the person in his own mind the reader must bring into play his reverent imagination. We bring with us into this world as our inborn gift some wisdom and reverence. This gift is always in us and though sometimes obscured by prejudice or passion it keeps alive the divine in man which prevents him from reeling back into the beast. Bharata and his retinue went on towards Bhar

rejudice or passion it keeps alive the divine in man which prevents him from reeling back into the beast. Bharata and his retinue went on towards Bharadawaja's ashrama. When they reached the Prayaga wood, they saw at a distance a beautiful grove with a cottage in its midst. Learning that this was Bharadwaja's ashrama, Bharata left his retinue behind and, accompanied only by Vasishtha and a few other elders, walked towards it with due humility.

Divesting himself of his silk garments and his weapons and accompanied only by the ministers he went on foot behind Vasishtha. A little further on, he left behind even the ministers, and he and Vasishtha alone went forward. When Bharadwaja saw Vasishtha, he rose from his seat and went to meet the illustrious visitor and bade his disciples to bring the customary water for the feet of the guests. Bharata offered humble salutations to Bharadwaja. Learning who he was, the rishi received him with the respect due to a king and made inquiries concerning his welfare. He thoughtfully refrained from making any mention of the sad fate of Dasaratha. The narration that follows is as told in Valmiki's epic. A few words by way of explanation may be useful. Bharadwaja suspected and questioned Bharata, just as Guha had done earlier. This is, however, not so put in the Tulasidas Ramayana which is a poem of pure bhakti. There is nothing that was not within the knowledge of rishis. How then could Bharadwaja (in the Tulasidas Ramayana) entertain any doubt about Bharata? Kamban, the Tamil poet of the Ramayana, follows Valmiki closely not only here but in many other places where Tulasidas differs. Although Kamban carefully follows Valmiki, he adds many beautiful passages out of his own imagination. With a touch here and a touch there, Kamban manages skilfully to disentangle many knots. The changes he makes are very few, while Tulasidas deals freely with the story, taking such liberties as he likes with the story as a great bhakta may who has made his god his own by self-forgetting surrender. Following Valmiki, Kamban reports the conversation between Bharadwaja and Bharata and very beautifully expresses Bharata's indignation. We may not, reading it all today, appreciate Bharadwaja's doubts about innocent Bharata. Such suspicion was perfectly natural to Guha, but not so in a wise rishi. Valmiki makes the rishi justify himself saying: "Don't I know you, young prince? I put you these questions only the more clearly to reveal your innocence." Valmiki pictures rishis not as omniscient sages, but as very human wise men and seekers after truth, liable to love and fear somewhat like the rest of us. Just as Valmiki delineates Rama as a hero rather than as an avatar, so he makes Bharadwaja doubt Bharata because of his tender affection for Rama. Bound by his attachment to Rama, he hurts Bharata. Seeing the latter suffer, he at once consoles him with an explanation. All Valmiki's characters are

All Valmiki's characters are human beings with heightened human qualities. It is only under great stress or in exceptional circumstances that divinity shines faintly through the human nature. In the time of Tulasidas, bhakti had reached its noonday height. It shone dispelling every shade. Though bhakti predominates in Kamban's picture also, he contrives to retain the humanity of Valmiki's characters and in places makes them even more beautiful. Bharadwaja, after making the usual personal inquiries, asked Bharata: "Why did you leave your kingly duties and go over here? Should you not stay in Ayodhya? Listening to his young wife, Dasaratha ordered Rama to live for fourteen years in the forest and the prince accordingly left the city with his brother and Sita. Do you feel that even now the way is not clear for your rule and have you come to complete what Dasarath

you come to complete what Dasaratha began and make assurance doubly sure?" Hearing these words, Bharata wept. The tears gushed and he could hardly

speak. "Death," he said, "would be better than such a life as this." "Do you doubt me, master?" he asked. "Do not blame me for what was done by my mother in my absence without my knowledge or consent. I have come now to do my utmost and persuade Rama to go back with me to Ayodhya, and there to be crowned King. And it is my purpose to be his humble slave all my life. I have come here to ask you where Rama dwells, to go and beg of him to return home. And me, you suspect!" Bharadwaja said: "Bharata, I know your real nature. You are a scion of the race of Raghu. I questioned you because I wished to draw out a revelation of your affection and loyalty and thereby establish and spread your glory. Do not grieve. The Prince is dwelling on Chitrakuta hill. Stay here today. Tomorrow, you and your ministers shall go there. You will please me by accepting hospitality for a day in the ashrama." Bharata said: "My Lord, your wishes and words of affection are a feast. What more is required?" Bharadwaja smilled because he could see that Bharata was unwilling to cast the burden of feeding an army on a poor ascetic. He said: "I am bound to entertain you in a manner worthy of your status and goodness. Why have you left behind your army and retinue?" Bharata answered: "I followed the rule that one should not approach a rishi's dwelling with a retinue. There is a big crowd following me. It would be a great disturbance to you if they all come here." The rishi said: "Nothing of the sort. Order them all to come up." And so Bharata ordered. Bharadwaja went to the sacrificial fire and, uttering mantras, sipped water thrice and called on Viswakarma, Maya, Yama, Varuna, Kubera, Agni and other celestial beings and ordered them to produce a great feast for Bharata and his followers. Then a miracle happened. The feast that was ready in Bharadwaja's ashrama was like that which Vasishtha gave of old to Viswamitra. The only difference was that here, there was no quarrel or commotion. Everyone had ample accommodation. Sandal paste, flowers, food and drink, music and dance by divine performers were all provided. Bharadwaja's feast was more sumptuous than that given by emulous kings to one another. Dwellings, vehicles, servants rose suddenly into being. The guests forgot themselves in the feast. The soldiers in Bharata's army in the ecstasy of present enjoyment exclaimed to one another: "We shall not go to the Dandaka forest. We shall not return to Ay

We shall not return to Ayodhya. We shall stay here forever." How were they to know that the good things they enjoyed were for a day, and would disappear at dawn, like the stage and the crowd after a village play is over? The guests ate fully and soon fell fast asleep. The following morning Bharadwaja said to Bharata: "At a distance of two-anda-half yojanas from here runs the river Mandakini. On its banks is an unpeopled forest with Chitrakuta hill to its south. On the slope of the hill, in a hut your brothers and Sita are dwelling." And he explained in detail the way they should follow. The three queens were presented to receive the sage's blessings. "This is Queen Kausalya," said Bharata, "the mother of Rama and here, to her right and supporting her, stands the mother of Lakshmana and Satrughna, sorrowstricken and limp like a creeper stricken

Lakshmana and Satrughna, sorrowstricken and limp like a creeper stricken by summer winds." "And here is my mother, the cause of all our sorrow," said Bharata, pointing to Kaikeyi who along

with the other Queens prostrated before the sage. "Do not judge your mother harshly," said Bharadwaja casting his gentle eyes on the sorrowing lady. "All that has happened has happened for the good of the world." This episode of introducing the mothers is placed by Kamban in the earlier scene with Guha. Guha reverently inquires about the queens and Bharata explains. What Valmiki describes as having taken place in Bharadwaja's ashrama is, with more poetical effect, transferred by Kamban to its proper place. Introducing Kausalya to Guha, Bharata says, in the Ramayana of Kamban: "This is the mother of Rama. Her treasure was Rama and she lost it because of me." Of Sumitra he said: "This is the mother of Lakshmana, truer brother to Rama, who has a happiness beyond the reach of poor me." Kaikeyi in Kamban, as in Valmiki, is introduced by Bharata in harsh terms. Bharata and his great retinue took the forest path as directed by Bharadwaja. They saw from afar the Chitrakuta hill and as they proceeded eagerly a column of smoke indicated the spot where the prince's dwelling was and shouts of joy arose from the crowd. Leaving his following behind, Bharata went forward accompanied only by Sumantra and Vasishtha. 27. THE BROTHERS MEET WHILE Bharata was thus engaged in trying to undo the mischief wrought by others, in the forest hut at Chitrakuta, life went on fairly cheerfully. With Lakshmana and Sita by his side, Rama lacked nothing. The grandeur of the mountain scenery and the forest and the sweet songs and play of the birds pleased his heart. He forgot the sorrow of his exile from kinsfolk and city. "Look, Sita, at those birds playing," he would say. "Look at that rock on the hill with the blue, yellow and red veins shining on it. Look at these plants and creepers with their flowers. We feared life in the forest, not knowing how pleasant it would be. I am so happy here. And I have in addition to this pleasure the feeling that I carry out my father's promise. We have the joy of duty done besides leading a happy life here. Over and above all this, I am happy that my brother Bharata is ruling the kingdom." Thus Rama, free from sorrow himself, made Sita happy. Descending from the hill they would sometimes go to the river Mandakini and spend time there. "Look at those sand hillocks," Rama would say. "Look at the swans playing among the lotuses. The stream is as lovely

"Look at those sand hillocks," Rama would say. "Look at the swans playing among the lotuses. The stream is as lovely as yourself, beloved. The fords where animals come to drink are beautifully red with new earth. Even the river in Kubera's kingdom cannot be as beautiful as this. Sea the rishis bathing there and standing in supplication and offering hymns to the sun. Look at the flowers falling from the boughs on the water. Look at that pearls cattering cascade. We are indeed lucky to 

e. We are indeed lucky to be far away from the crowded city here in the forest. There, we cannot see rishis and pure souls such as we see here bathing everyday. This hill is our Ayodhya. The birds and beasts are our subjects. The Mandakini is our Sarayu. With you and Lakshmana by me, I am so happy and content. How pleasant it is to see the animals drinking water in the stream without any fear! Plunging in the water here, eating fruits and roots, walking about in the forest and climbing the hills, why should I think of kingdom or power?" Thus, in the company of Sita and Lakshmana, Rama was sp

Thus, in the company of Sita and Lakshmana, Rama was spending happy days.

One day as they were sitting as usual on the slope of the hill in utter peace, suddenly at a distance, they saw a cloud of dust rise in the sky which seemed moving towards them. And soon they heard a great noise as of a big crowd. Rama saw the forest animals stampeding hither and thither in fear. It looked as if an army entered the forest. "Do you hear that noise?" Rama said to Lakshmana, "'The elephants, bisons and deer are running helter skelter. What could it be? Could it be some king come here hunting? Or is it that some tiger or other fierce wild beast has come rummaging? Just see and tell me." Lakshmana climbed up a tall tree and looked all around. He saw a large army approaching from the north, a complete force of all limbs, chariots, elephants, horses and foot soldiers. He shouted to Rama in warning: "Listen, brother. A great army is approaching with flags flying and in complete formation. Let us be careful. Put out the fire. Take Sita into the cave for safety. Let us don our armor and get ready for battle." Rama said: "Do not be in such hurry. Look again at the flag on the chariot and tell me which king is leading his army here." Lakshmana looked and was filled with anger. "O my brother, it is Bharata. Not satisfied with getting the kingdom, he is t Nandigrama near Ayodhya.

Rama said: "Do not be in such hurry. Look again at the flag on the chariot and tell me which king is leading his army here." Lakshmana looked and was filled with anger. "O my brother, it is Bharata. Not satisfied with getting the kingdom, he is pursuing us here. I can see the tree on our flag flying in the breeze. He has come to slay us. But the son of Kaikeyi shall not escape with life from me today. What sin is there in killing this destroyer of dharma? The only question now is, shall we wait for them here, or sh

But the son of Kaikeyi shall not escape with life from me today. What sin is there in killing this destroyer of dharma? The only question now is, shall we wait for them here, or shall we give them battle on the top of the hill? We will make him pay for all the harm be has done us. It is surely no sin to kill one who comes to slay us. With him will be

RAMAYANA AND EASY ENGLISH -2 IN 1

21. A MOTHER'S GRIEF 

Sumantra and Guha stood watching the three figures as long as they could. When they disappeared from sight, they were plunged in sorrow and went back to Guha's town. After a while Sumantra returned to Ayodhya. As the charioteer approached the city, he found it desolate and devoid of the usual cheerful bustle of urban life. As soon as he crossed the fortress-gate and entered the city, his chariot was surrounded by a crowd eagerly asking: "Where did you leave Rama? How was he when you left him?"

 "Dear people of Ayodhya," said Sumantra, "Rama and Lakshmana have crossed the Ganga. Ordering me to return home, they entered the forest on foot." A great cry of grief rose from the multitude and many cursed themselves and attributed the catastrophe to their own sins. On both sides of the streets, women stood as the chariot passed and cried: "Look at the car which departed with the princes and Sita and has come back empty."

 Sumantra drove forward covering his face with the end of his upper garment, ashamed of himself. He stopped the chariot in front of Dasaratha's palace and alighted. There in front of the palace a great crowd had gathered. Women were saying, "How is Sumantra going to meet Kausalya and tell her that he left her son in the forest? How will she survive the report?" With increasing sorrow and confusion, Sumantra entered the Queen's apartment.

 There he saw the King more dead than alive. In low tones, he spoke of Rama's message to the King who heard it in heartbroken silence. Then Kausalya, unable to control her wrath, addressed the King: "Here stands your minister who has returned from the forest after leaving my child to fulfil your command. Why are you silent? It was easy and pleasant to give boons to Kaikeyi. Why are you ashamed of it now? Did you not know that this would be the result of what you did? You have honored your word. You may be happy over that. But who can share my sorrow with me? I have to bear it all. My grief cannot be reduced by your pain. No convention binds you to feel or appear to be grieved for what you have deliberately done. Why are you silent? You need not refrain from giving expression to sorrow for fear of offending Kaikeyi, for she is not here. Surely you should inquire of Sumantra about Rama. Have you no humanity? Why do you try to suppress even natural feelings?" Her grief and love for Rama blinded her to the state of her husband's body and mind. Instead of lightening, she aggravated his suffering. Dasaratha opened his eyes and Sumantra reported duly Rama's message in his own words. Sumantra tried his best to console Kausalya. But she went on repeating: "Take me and leave me where Rama is. Young Sita is there with him facing the hardships of the forest. I cannot bear this hardships of the forest. I cannot bear this agony. Let me go to Dandaka and be with Sita."

 Sumantra answered: "Queen, be brave. Banish this grief. Rama spends his time even more happily in the forest than he did in Ayodhya. He feels no sorrow. Lakshmana finds joy in the supreme job of dutiful service to the brother he loves. He is very happy. As for Sita, there in the forest, as here in the palace, she lives for Rama with every breath and knows neither fear nor sorrow. She spends her time as though she was a sylvan goddess and is as happy there as she was here playing in the groves and gardens of Ayodhya. The beauty of her face is still like the rising moon's. Like a forest fawn she lives there with care-free grace, spending the, golden hours with Rama by her side.

. Every sight and sound is a new source of joy to her and the theme of talk with Rama and Lakshmana. Walking barefoot, her feet are red like the lotus, and need no painting with henna. She walks in the forest as if she were dancing.

She only lacks the tinkling anklets to make it complete. All that I say is true. There is no need for you to grieve. The three of them are fulfilling their sacred duty and offering an object lesson to the world. They are making the King's word good. Their life will be remembered and praised forever. Why, then, should we grieve for them?" With such talk, Kausalya would be consoled for a while. But soon she would break down again and cry: "Alas, alas, Rama, my child." Her grief seemed redoubled when she saw Sumantra come back, leaving Rama in the forest.

JAI SRI RAM/JAI SITA RAM/OM SRI RAM JAYA RAM JAYA JAYA RAM.

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 22. IDLE SPORT 

22. IDLE SPORT AND TERRIBLE RESULT 

Dasaradha had been driven ruthlessly by circumstances to an action which not only broke his heart but made him hate himself and deprived him even of self pity. The only way out of the dilemma of either breaking his plighted word or doing a great wrong to Rama would have been for the latter to disobey him and insist on his rights. But Rama placed his duty to his father high above all other things. And Rama was all the world to Sita and Lakshmana. So they had all gone together. To Dasaratha, agonising on his bed of pain in desolation and remorse, Kausalya spoke reproachful words. The stinging words in which Kausalya's sorrow found expression caused excruciating pain to Dasaratha, but she seemed to find some relief in giving vent to her feelings in this way. "Proud of having kept your word and happy in young Kaikeyi's approval and gratification, have you any thought for others? You have been my world and my god, my joy in this world and my hope for the next and you have forsaken me. My son, the light of my life, has been wrenched away from me and banished. I live here alone, old, helpless woman, without the love of my lord or the sight of my only son. Was ever a woman left more desolate? But you, are you not delighted with what you have done? It is enough for you that Kaikeyi and Bharata are happy. You need not entertain any fear that Rama will mar that happiness, even if he returned from the forest after fourteen years. He will not touch the kingdom once ruled by Bharata. The tiger does not touch the leavings of another animal's. Like a fish, eating its offspring, you have killed your own child." Touched to the quick, the King even in the intensity of his anguish turned to his wife with a humble prayer for forgiveness with clasped hands. "Have pity on me, Kausalya," he moaned. "You have been kind and forgiving even to strangers. Do have some compassion on your husband who has always loved and honored you and whose heart is broken by a sorrow which knows no remedy!" These piteous words and the sight of her husband in supplication and the memory of happier hours pierced the noble queen to the heart and she fell at his feet imploring forgiveness for unbecoming words forced out of her by grief. As the leaden hours crept slowly on, Dasaratha remembered something that had happened long ago and it aggravated had happened long ago and it aggravated the anguish of his heart. The King turned to Kausalya and said: "Are you still here, my dear? The fruit of one's action can never be escaped. I now endure the result of a great sin that I committed in the days that are gone. Men in their ignorance sometimes do great evils for the sake of some slight momentary pleasure. Then when the time comes, the price has to be paid. When I was young, I had the skill to use my bow against unseen targets aiming by sound only. For the pleasure of exercising this skill, I once killed an innocent man and committed a great sin. Listen, I shall relate to you that sad adventure. It was before you came to me. One night I went, out in my chariot to hunt on the banks of the Sarayu. It had been raining heavily and, from the mountainsides, the streams were running dyed with the rich colors of minerals and fresh soil. The birds were silent. The forest seemed asleep. I could take the aim by the ear and shoot, without seeing, a tiger or bear or other wild beast that might come to slake its thirst in the stream. I wanted to test this skill of mine. It was dense darkness. I waited for some wild animal to come. Then I heard a gurgling sound as of an elephant drinking. At once I aimed an arrow in the direction whence the sound came. Like a venomous serpent, swish went my dart and hit the object. But I was shocked to hear a human voice exclaim 'Alas! I am dead!' I heard the man cry again piteously, 'Who can be my enemy? Never have I done any harm to anyone. Who then could want to kill me thus as I was filling my pitcher with water? What could he gain by this? Why should anyone bear hate against one living his innocent hermit life in the forest? What is to happen to my old blind parents now, with none to look after them? O misery!' Horror-struck, I stood trembling in every limb. My bow and arrow slipped from my hands. I approached the place from where the voice came and I found a young ascetic lying on the ground with dishevelled hair, covered all over with blood and earth. Beside him lay an upturned pitcher. The look of his eyes was as fire. When he saw me, he cried, 'O Sinner that has killed me! Why did you aim your arrow at me that was taking water from the stream? My old blind parents are thirsty and are waiting for me in the ashrama, thinking that I would return with my pitcher filled. Why did you kill me? O God, my penances and my devotions have all gone to naught. My parents do not know that I lie here stricken and helpless. They will go on waiting for me and even if they knew it, what could they do, blind and helpless? Who are you? What! Are you not the King of Kosala? And so, you, the King, who should by right protect me, have slain me. Very well, O King, go yourself and tell them what you have done. Fall at their feet and beg for forgiveness. Else, their anger will reduce you to ashes. Go straight to the ashrama. Take that path there. Go at once and save yourself. But this arrow is a torture. Pull it out and relieve me of the pain before you go.' I knew that if I pulled out the arrow from his body, his pain would end indeed his body, his pain would end indeed, but so would his life in a gush of blood. My hand refused to do the deed. For a while I stood, not knowing what to do. Then, the young ascetic said: 'Do not hesitate. Do end my pain. My mind is now clear and I have calmed myself. Boldly pull out the arrow and release my life.' Gently I pulled the arrow out. The young ascetic turned on the ground, heaved a sigh and, with his eyes fixed on me, breathed his last. It is this crime of mine that is now pursuing me. The agony of those blind parents who were deprived by me of their son has come now for me to endure."

JAI SRI RAM/JAI SITA RAM/OM SRI RAM JAYA RAM JAYA JAYA RAM.

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23. LAST MOMENTS  THE STORY OF

Dasaratha continued: "Listen, I shall tell you what followed. Having committed a sin and seeing the young ascetic die, I stood wondering what-to do next. Finally I decided that it was my duty and my interest to do what he advised me. I cleaned the pitcher, and filling it with fresh water, took it and went along the footpath he had pointed out. I reached his cottage and there I saw the old couple waiting for the return of their son. They sat there like two birds with broken wings shrivelled in body and unable to move. Both were blind. They were speaking to each other about the long delay of their son in fetching water from the stream. I was filled with terror as I slowly approached them. The old man, hearing my footsteps, mumbled: 'Why this long delay, my son? Quickly give me some water to drink. Your mother too is athirst. Were you making your pleasure in the stream? Was this the cause of your delay, son? Why are you silent? Even if your mother or I have offended you in any manner, you should not take it to heart. You are a perfect son and our only prop. We have lost our eyesight and you serve as our eyes. Indeed you are more than our life to us. Why are you still silent? Are you still angry. I trembled in fear when I heard the toothless old man talking thus. Gathering courage I began: 'O, holy one, I am Dasaratha by name, a Kshatriya, bound to obey and serve you, though not your son. Driven by my former karma, I have committed a terrible sin and stand in abject humility before you. I went to the riverbank for sport, hoping to shoot wild beasts. I thought I heard in the darkness an elephant drinking water. I aimed my arrow, as I am a marksman that can aim by sound as well as by sight. It was my misfortune and his fate that my arrow struck your son as he was filling his pitcher, with the gurgling I had mistaken for that of an elephant drinking. Thus, without intending it, I fatally wounded your beloved son. When I went to the spot and saw him rolling in blood with my arrow stuck in his breast, I cursed myself. I was filled with horror and stood not knowing what to do. At his request I pulled the arrow out to release him from the mortal pain. He is dead. I have told you the horrible sin I have committed. I throw myself at your mercy. I await your judgment.' The miserable couples were struck dumb by my dreadful tale about their son. Tears poured from their sightless eyes, and the old man said: 'King, your sin is indeed great. But it was done in ignorance. And you have come yourself to tell me your crime. So you shall live. Now take us both to the spot. Let us touch our beloved son with our hands and send him into Yama's keeping.' I carried them to the river bank where their son lay dead. They felt his body all over, cried and blessed his soul and performed the cremation. Then before ascending the funeral pyre and giving them selves up to the fire, they turned to me and said: 'This great grief you have brought about for us, you too, will endure in good time. You will die of grief parted from your son.' Saying this, they burnt themselves and their souls joined the gods. My sin has pursued me and I My sin has pursued me and I am now in its grip. My old crime is killing me now. As food prohibited by they doctors foolishly consumed by a sick man kills him, what that old father uttered in unbearable grief has now come true. I have sent my innocent son to the forest and, unable to bear the grief, I now enter Yama's abode. How else could these unnatural events occur? How else could I be thus deceived and betrayed? Even if I ordered Rama to go to forest, why should he obey my unjust command? Why should he insist on being exiled? It is the curse of that old blind couple, nothing else. Kausalya, I do not see you. My sight is gone. Death is fast approaching. Come nearer and let me feel you. All is over. The messengers of Yama are calling meThe messengers of Yama are calling me. Will Rama come? Shall I see him before I die? Oh, I am dying. The oil is all consumed and my light is going out! Ah Kausalya! Oh Sumitra!

His life slowly ebbed away and that night at some time unobserved by any, the King breathed his last. As described by Valmiki in the early pages of the epic, Dasaratha was one who had mastered all the Vedas and Shastras, was a farsighted person, the hero of many battles, the performer of many sacrifices, follower of dharma, a far-famed king with many friends and no foes, and one who had conquered his senses. His power was like Indra's. His wealth was like Kubera's. In statesmanship, he was like Manu. Fate had ordered that such a one should exile his beloved son and die of a broken heart, with none by him in his last moments but two faithful women stricken by himself with a common sorrow. Since the King had so often fainted and recovered, his death was not immediately noticed by Kausalya or Sumitra. They were weary, too, with grief and watching, and fell into a sleep of fatigue in a corner of the apartment. At dawn, the musicians and singers, whose duty it was to rouse the King from slumber, came to his bedchamber and played on instruments and sang the usual hymns. But they saw no sign of the King waking. The royal servants who attended to the King's morning needs waited long and wondered why he slept till so late. Then they made bold to enter the apartment and saw him lying dead. Soon the news spread and filled the palace with grief. The widows of the great Dasaratha cried like orphaned children, embracing one another in unavailing lamentation.

JAI SRI RAM/JAI SITA RAM/OM SRIRAM JAYA RAM

JAYA JAYA RAM.

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 24. BHARATA ARRIVES

 Kausalya clung to the King's body and cried: "I shall go with the King to Yama's abode. How can I live without my son and without my husband?" The elders and officers of the palace managed to separate her from the dead King and take her away. Then they discussed about the funeral rites. They could not be performed immediately, for Rama and Lakshmana had gone to the forest and Bharata and Satrughna were far away in their uncle's place. It was decided to send for Bharata and to keep the body immersed in oil till his arrival. The great monarch's remains were thus kept waiting for Bharata's arrival. Ayodhya, the city of splendor, was sunk in darkness and lamentation. Crowds of women met here and there and reviled Kaikeyi. There was anxiety in men's hearts. The crown prince had gone to the forest. Bharata too was far away. Anarchy was feared, for no one in those days could imagine a people going on without a king. After the long night had passed, the ministers, officers and elders assembled in the hall in the morning. Markandeya,

 Markandeya, Vamadeva, Kashyapa, Katyayana, Gautama, Jabali and other learned men, with Sumantra and the other ministers, bowed to Vasishtha and said: "Sir, the night we have passed was like a century. The King is no more. Rama and Lakshmana are in the forest. Bharata and Satrughna are in far off Kekaya in their grandfather's house. Someone must forthwith be asked to take up the responsibility of rule. A land without a king cannot survive. Order will disappear, son will not obey father, nor wife her husband. The rains will hold back

After the long night had passed, the ministers, officers and elders assembled in the hall in the morning. Markandeya, Vamadeva, Kashyapa, Katyayana, Gautama, Jabali and other learned men, with Sumantra and the other ministers, bowed to Vasishtha and said: "Sir, the night we have passed was like a century. The King is no more. Rama and Lakshmana are in the forest. Bharata and Satrughna are in far off Kekaya in their grandfather's house. Someone must forthwith be asked to take up the responsibility of rule. A land without a king cannot survive. Order will disappear, son will not obey father, nor wife her husband. The rains will hold back. Thieves and robbers will range at will. There will be no mutual trust among people. Neither agriculture nor trade can flourish. Without a king, the land must lose its prosperity. The springs of ch

Without a king, the land must lose its prosperity. The springs of charity will dry up. Festivals and services will cease to be performed in temples. There will be no expounding of Shastras or epics, nor any listeners. People will no more sleep with doors open. Culture will decline and soon disappear. Penances,

vows, enjoyments, learning, all depend on the king's protection. The beauty of women will vanish. The sense of security will be lost. Men will eat one another up as, fish do. Cruelty and misery will grow apace and lay waste the land. For good to prosper and evil to be restrained, a king is essential." Thus Valmiki describes at length the dangers of anarchy through the mouths of leaders in that assembly. "It looks as if a great darkness has enveloped the land," they said. "Dharma is in danger. Let us forthwith secure a king." Vasishtha sent for tried messengers and said to them: "Start at once. Go straight and swift to Kekaya. See that you wear no sign of sorrow on your face or show it in your behavior. Bharata should not know that the King is dead. Tell him simply that the family preceptor and ministers want his presence at once in Ayodhya and bring him along with you with all the speed you may. Tell him nothing about Rama and Sita going to the forest or the King's death on account of grief. To avoid all suspicion, take with you the usual gifts of jewels and precious garments for presentation to the King of Kekaya." From this we can understand the meaning of what the Shastras and Kural say about Truth. Truthfulness should be such that it needlessly hurts no being in the world. The test for right conduct including truthfulness is harmlessness. This does not mean that truth is underrated. Soon the messengers were provisioned and equipped for the long journey and furnished with gifts of honor. Mounted on swift and sturdy horses, they sped past rivers and forests, up hill and down dale, and reached Kekaya, which was somewhere to the west of the modern Punjab, and found themselves in Rajagriha, its capital, where the Ikshvaku princes were residing in the palace of their maternal uncle. They decided to wait on the princes the next morning. The night the messengers arrived, Bharata had evil dreams and woke up in the morning filled with anxiety as to what they might portend. His face showed the state of his mind. His companions tried to entertain him with dance and mirth to make him forget his cares, but did not succeed. We still do not know all the secrets of nature and the telepathy of affection. Maybe, Dasaratha's mental anguish and death throes reached Bharata across space and caused him his bad dreams. He said to himself: "It seems to me that death is approaching my brother Rama or Lakshmana or myself. They say that an early morning dream does not fail to They say that an early morning dream does not fail to be fulfilled. And mine has been a terrible dream. I am full of fear. I know not what to do." Just then the messengers were announced. The King of Kekaya and his son Yudhajit received the envoys with due courtesy. They paid their respects to the King and that princes, then turned to Bharata and said: "The priests and ministers send you their blessings and request you to return at once to Ayodhya. They want us to convey to you that the need for your presence there is most urgent. Please touch for acceptance these garments and jewels to be given to your uncle and to the King as

be given to your uncle and to the King as gifts from the palace of Ayodhya." Bharata questioned the messengers after the welfare of all at home. The manner of his inquiry suggests that he had an uneasy premonition that his mother's headstrong and ambitious nature might have had something to do with this hasty summons home. "And is my mother, the haughty and irascible Queen Kaikeyi who

believes herself all-wise and must always have her way, is she in good health?" The messengers must have been at their wits' end for an answer. The best they could make was: "O tiger among men, all are well whose welfare is dear to you. Lakshmi, the goddess of sovereignty, whose abode is the lotus, woos you. Get into your chariot without loss of time." There was an enigmatic thought in this greeting, for according to them Bharata was to be installed on the throne. The prince took leave of his uncle and grandfather for returning home and preparations were made for his departure. The old king and Yudhajit collected rare and valuable things of their country to be sent as gifts to King Dasaratha and Prince Rama of Ayodhya. Bharata and Satrughna mounted their chariots and started with a big retinue towards Ayodhya. They travelled fast, unmindful of fatigue, and by forced marches reached Ayodhya on the morning of the eighth day. As he approached the city, Bharata's mind was filled with misgiving. Nothing seemed to be as it was before, and the air seemed heavy with disaster. He asked the charioteer: "Why does the city wear such a strange look? I do not see the usual crowds of people going in and coming out in the gardens outside the city. One used to see young men and women with bright, cheerful faces. But now they all seem sad." Bharata's chariot entered the city through the Victory Gate. The streets, houses and temples were bare and unadorned. The faces of the people looked drawn and famished. "Why are the musical instruments silent?" he asked. "Why are the citizens not decked with flowers and sandal paste? These are all bad signs. I cannot repress my anxiety." Inauspicious omens were seen everywhere. Bharata concluded that some great misfortune had overtaken the city and that was the reason why he had been so hastily sent for. He entered Dasaratha's palace. The King was not to be seen. His anxiety increased. He then entered Kaikeyi's palace. When she saw her son after a long absence, she jumped from her golden couch to embrace him. He bent down and touched her feet. She kissed his head and welcomed him with maternal blessings. "Did you have a good journey?" she asked. "Are your uncle and grandfather well? Tell me all about them." He answered: "The journey took seven days. All our people at Kekaya are happy and well. Grandfather and uncle send you their love. They have sent rich gifts for you, but these will arrive later. I have come in advance. The envoys hurried me,The envoys hurried me, saying there was urgent work demanding my presence here. What is all this about? I went to the King's palace to pay him my respects. He was not to be found there and here too his couch is empty. Perhaps he is with one of my senior mothers. I must go and see him and tender my respects." When Bharata, innocent of heart and unaware of what had happened, said this, the foolish queen intoxicated with a new sense of power answered: "My child, your father had his full share of the blessings of this life. His fame was great. He performed all the sacrifices enjoined by tradition. He was a refuge for the good. He has now entered the higher world and joined the gods."

On hearing this, Bharata fell down uttering a cry, his long arms stretched out on the ground. Rising, he looked at his father's empty bed and sobbed like a destitute orphan. The mighty hero threw his god-like frame on the earth and wept like a child in uncontrolled grief.

Looking at her son, who lay on the ground like a big tree fallen to the axe, Kaikeyi said: "Arise, O King. Stand up. It is not right for a king thus to mourn and roll on the ground. Honor and glory are waiting for your acceptance. You are to uphold the dharma and perform sacrifices in the way of your royal fathers. Your intelligence shines like the noonday sun. No misfortune dare come near you. Son, strong of limb and brave-hearted, stand up." Bharata's mind was immaculate, spotless. He did not see all that Kaikeyi had put in this her appeal! After lamenting long, he got up and said: "When I went to my uncle's house I had hoped that Rama's installation as Yuvaraja would come off soon and that on my return I would see the great festive ceremonies. How differently have things turned out! How am I to bear this calamity? No more shall I see my father's 'face. What did he die of? How did he get the illness? And I was not by his side when he lay sick! It was given to Rama to tend him in his last moments. How affectionate the King was towards me! If some dust settled on my body, he would wipe it with his hand. And how soft and pleasing was his touch! And it was not given me to serve him in his need. But mother where is Rama? Hereafter he is both father and preceptor to me. I must see him at once and kiss his feet. He is now my sole refuge. What was my father's last message to me? I want his very words." Kaikeyi's answer had to be consistent both with truth and her designs. She was pulled in contrary directions by her culture and her ambition. She found words which conveyed that the King did not think of Bharata in his last moments. She also wished to prepare him for the rest of the news. She said: "Your father breathed his last crying, 'Ha, Rama, Ha, Lakshmana, Ha, Janaki.' These were his last words." He died saying: "It is not given me to live to see Rama, Lakshmana and Sita return. Happy they who will see their return." Listening to this, Bharata gathered that Rama and Lakshmana too were absent from the Kings side. His grief increased and he asked Kaikeyi: "Where. Were they? What business took them away from our father's side during his last moments?" Hoping to pacify him, Kaikeyi said: "My son, Rama put on the garments of an ascetic and, taking Lakshmana and Sita with him, went to the Dandaka forest." Bharata's amazement now knew no bounds. He asked: "I understand nothing of what you are saying. What sin did Rama commit th

of what you are saying. What sin did Rama commit that he should undertake such expiation? Did be rob any Brahmana or cause bodily hurt to any innocent person or desire somebody else's wife? Why did he have to go to the forest? Who laid on him this penance?" In those days people went of their own will or were sent to the forest as a purifying punishment for such and other heinous crimes. Now Kaikeyi shaken out of silence by this tempest of questions came out with the truth foolishly hoping for the best. "Rama committed no crime. He neither robbed nor harmed anyone. And it was not in Rama's nature to cast eyes of desire at other people's wives. What happened was that, seeing that preparations were afoot for installing him as crown prince and regent, I approached the King for your sake and secured the fulfillment of two boons he had long ago granted to meUnable to bear this separation, your father expired of grief. Do not waste yourself in vain lamentations now. Think now what you should do. You know dharma. Your duty is to accept the burden of kingship. I did all this for your sake and you should accept the fruit of my action in the spirit in which I acted. The city and kingdom have come into your possession without your wanting or working for it. Following the injunctions of Vasishtha and other learned men, perform duly your father's obsequies and then prepare for the coronation. You are a Kshatriya. You have inherited your father's kingdom. Attend to what has fallen to you as your duty.