RAMAYANA AND EASY ENGLISH -2 IN 1

19. ALONE BY THEMSELVES

The citizens who had slept on the bank of the Tamasa woke up in the morning and looked round. They were surprised to see that Rama and the chariot had disappeared.

They followed the track of the chariot-wheels but were disappointed to find that it was lost in the main road to the capital. They returned home to their own houses and sought satisfaction in reviling Kaikeyi. 

Without Rama, the city was bereft of beauty and wrapt in gloom. Sumantra and the princes had crossed the Tamasa long before dawn and travelled far into the forest. 

Crossing several streams, they approached the southern boundary of the Kosala country.

 As they journeyed on,  Rama SAID TO Sumantra: "I wonder when I shall hunt again in the forest of Sarayu. Is hunting good for princes? Perhaps, it is, in moderation." Thus conversing on many matters, they went forward. When they reached the southern boundary of the kingdom, Rama stopped the chariot and facing north towards Ayodhya, bent his head in a prayer, saying: "O, jewel among cities! O ancient capital of the Ikshwakus! Shall I finishing my penance in the forest, live to see my father and mother and you? Grant me that supreme joy." The chariot reached the bank of the Ganga. They proceeded along the bank, admiring the beauty of the river. Finding a spot of surpassing charm, Rama said: "We shall spend the night here." Untying the horses, they sat under a tree.

GUHA. THE GREAT BAKTHA OF RAMA,

Guha, the chief of the region, having learnt already from his men that Rama would be coming there, came forward with his retinue to greet Rama and Lakshmana. He had unbounded love for the royal family and for Rama. Being the chieftain of the tribes who dwelt on the banks of Ganga, he was a man of great prestige and power. Rama and Lakshmana rose to greet Guha, even while the latter was still at some distance from them. Guha welcomed them with a hearty embrace, saying: "Regard this land as your own. This place is as much yours as is Ayodhya. Who can hope to have a guest like you? It is indeed my good fortune." Guha had prepared a lavish entertainment. He said, "Feel perfectly at home and happy in my kingdom. You may spend all the fourteen years with us here. You will not lack anything I assure you. Looking after you will be a pleasure and privilege to me. Be gracious enough to accept my hospitality." Warmly embracing Guha again, Rama said: "Brother, I know how deep is your love for me. Your wish is itself as good as hospitality rendered. I am bound by my vows and must refuse anything more. I have come to dwell in the forest and not to enjoy life as a chieftain's guest. These horses are my dear father's favorites. Pray feed them well. We shall be content with simple food and rest for the night." They lay under the tree for the night.

 Guha and Lakshmana kept awake, conversing with Sumantra. Said Guha to Lakshmana: "Brother, do go and rest. There is a bed made ready for you. My men will keep careful watch. None dare do anything in the forest unknown to me. Have no anxiety regarding Rama. Do sleep."

 Lakshmana replied: "How can I find sleep, Guha? Here, lying on the bare ground, is Sita, daughter of  The great Janaka and daughter-in-law of the great Dasaratha. The great Purushottama himself who could subdue the three worlds lies stretched on the grass. How can I sleep who sees this? I wonder how Ayodhya is bearing it. The queens' apartments must be loud with wailing. I even doubt if at this moment Kausalya and my mother are alive. My father indeed found strength somehow to say to Rama, 'Go to the forest,' but I doubt if he has strength enough left to survive Rama's actual departure. And if he has passed away, our mothers too will have given up their lives. 

And here we are, deprived even of the privilege of doing the last offices to the dead. In any case it is hardly possible that our father and mothers will be alive to greet us, when we return to Ayodhya after our term in the forest." Thus spoke Lakshmana in sorrow. Guha was in tears. The night was spent in such sad conversation.

Early next morning, Rama told Lakshmana: "We must now cross the river. Ask Guha to make ready a boat big enough for crossing this broad river." Guha ordered his men to get this done and informed Rama. Sumantra bowed low and stood before Rama seeking his further commands. Rama understood Sumantra's unuttered grief and, laying his hand on Sumantra's shoulders, said: "Sumantra, return to Ayodhya with all speed and be at the side of the King. Your duty is now to look after him."

 "O Rama," exclaimed Sumantra, "rectitude, learning and culture seem to be of no value. You and your brother and Vaidehi are going to live in the forest. What is going to be our lot? How are we going to fare under Kaikeyi's rule?" He now wept like a child. Wiping the tears from Sumantra's eyes, Rama said: "Our family has known no nobler friend than you. It will be your task to console my father. His heart is river by grief. Whatever his commands carry them out dutifully. Do not ask yourself whether he wants a thing for himself or with a view to pleasing Kaikeyi. Avoid giving him any pain of mind. Have no anxiety about us. You should say this on my behalf to my aged father who is stricken with a grief he never knew before. Clasp his feet as you have seen me do, and assure him from me that none of us, not I nor Lakshmana, nor Sita, feel injured or sorry at having been sent away from Ayodhya. We look forward to fourteen years of forest life which will speed on happy wings, and then surely we shall return to his feet for blessings. Give our love to my mother Kausalya, and tell her that protected by her blessings we are well and give a like message to my stepmothers, especially to Kaikeyi, lest she should think we have parted in anger. Tell the Maharaja that it is my earnest prayer that he should hasten with the installation of Bharata, so that he may be a comfort to him in our absence."

 But Sumantra, unable to restrain his grief, burst out: "How am I to return and with what words can I give comfort?" And when he looked at the empty chariot, he wept and said: "How shall I drive this chariot that stands desolate without you?" Once again Rama spoke words of comfort and courage to Sumantra and urged on him the duty of patience, and sent him home. 

"Guha", said Rama, "I could indeed spend fourteen years in your kingdom as you desire. But would that be fulfilling my vow? I have left Ayodhya to fulfil my father's pledge. I must therefore lead the life of a tapasvi. 

 I must not touch dishes daintily cooked and served. We have to live only on fruits, roots and permissible kinds of meat such as we offer in the sacrificial fire." Comforting Guha thus, the brothers got their locks matted with the milk of the banyan. They helped Sita into the boat and then got into it themselves. Guha bade the boatmen to row it across. The boatmen took them quickly across the river. At midstream Sita offered a prayer to the goddess of the river: "Devi, help us fulfil our vow and return safe to our homeland." They talked as they went on. They reached the farther bank of Ganga.

 And there for the first time, the three stood alone, unattended by friends! "Lakshmana, you are my sole armed guard now," said Rama. 

 "You will go first. Sita will follow. And I shall walk behind you both. We must save Sita as far as possible from the hardships of forest life. Hereafter there will be none to keep us company and no fun or amusement."

Rama's thoughts went to his mother Kausalya. "Lakshmana," he said, "should you not go back to Ayodhya and look after mother Kausalya and Sumitra Devi? I shall manage my forest stay somehow." Lakshmana replied: "Forgive me, brother; I am not going back to Ayodhya." Rama indeed expected no other answer. Thus now and again we shall see the human element come up and the divine prince grieve and talk as common people do. This is the fascination of the Ramayana. If Almighty God remains almighty and does everything Himself, then where is room or need for an avatar and how could the dharma of common men be established? This is the difference between the earlier avatars and the later. In the Rama avatar, the course of human conduct and the dharma governing  IT come linked together. This has been made explicit by Valmiki. On the occasion of Sita's ordeal by fire at the end of the battle, Rama says to Brahma who appeared then among others and deprecated the idea of putting Sita to proof: "I regard myself only as Rama, son of Dasaratha, an ordinary human being. Who I am in reality, where I belong, why I took birth, are matters on which you must enlighten me, and I do not know." While Rama was plunged in thinking of the mothers left behind, Lakshmana ministered to him with loving words of courage and hope. 

They spent that night under a banyan tree and left early next morning for Bharadwaja's ashrama which they reached at sunset. Partaking of the hospitality of the sage, they besought him to tell where they could spend the years quietly in the forest on his advice and with his blessings left for Chitrakuta.

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

20. CHITRAKUTA 

Rama spent the night in Bharadwaja's ashrama. Getting up in the morning, they paid their respects to the Maharishi and, taking leave of him, set out for the Chitrakuta hill. The muni treated them affectionately as if they were his own children and sent them forth with his blessings after explaining to them the way they should take through the forest. The three followed his topographical instructions closely and in due course came upon the river Kalindi. 

They constructed a raft with logs and bamboos and creepers of the forest and on it Lakshmana made a seat for Sita with little twigs and leaves on which she sat. 

The passage of the river was accomplished in safety. In midstream Sita offered salutations to the river goddess and prayed that Rama might fulfil his vow and the river goddess and prayed that Rama might fulfil his vow and the three be enabled safely to return home. After crossing a few more streams, they came to a big banyan tree which had been described by Bharadwaja. 

And under this tree Sita again offered prayers saying: "Grant, O holy tree, that my husband may complete his vow and that I may see again the queens Kausalya and Sumitra." Rama asked Lakshmana to walk in front with Sita behind him while he himself followed in the rear. "Whatever, flower or fruit she asks for on the way," he said, "get it for her and keep her spirits up." As Sita went she showed an eager curiosity, asking about forest trees and creepers and was lost in admiration at the many-sided beauty of forest life.  They greatly enjoyed the journey and rested for the night on the bank of a river. Here and in other places, Valmiki describes how Rama and Lakshmana secured food by hunting. He makes it quite plain that they had to subsist largely on meat. Some good men are troubled by this. But meat was not prohibited for Kshatriyas. 

Indeed, it has always been the rule in India to permit any food legitimately obtained and consecrated as a sacrifice. Rama was a Kshatriya and he lived in the forest in the Kshatriya way, though abstemiously. The following morning Rama woke up Lakshmana and said: "Listen, the birds are singing to the morning sun. It is time for us to start." The popular story that Lakshmana spent the whole period of forest life without food or sleep is not found in Valmiki.

 Sometimes, even, through fatigue Lakshmana did not get up quite early in the morning and Rama had to rouse him from slumber! They performed their ablutions and worship and resumed their journey in the path indicated by Bharadwaja. The season was summer and the trees and plants were ablaze with multi colored flowers. The branches bowed under the weight of fruits and blossoms. Rama pointed out the beauty of the forest to Sita from time to then, saying as they walked: "How beautiful is the forest unspoilt by human interference! Look at the beehives hanging there! Look at the ground entirely covered with fallen flowers! Listen to the birds! How beautifully they sing to one another and live in joy! Life would indeed be pleasant if we could always enjoy such sights and sounds." Then they saw at a distance the Chitrakuta hill. They were glad and began to walk briskly towards it. "How beautiful this region is!" exclaimed Rama. "The forest here has fine edible roots and fruits. The water is clear and sweet. Rishis dwell in ashramas in this forest and we may most certainly live happily here in their holy company." They proceeded to put up an ashrama there for themselves. Lakshmana was a clever workman. He soon constructed a strong hut, which was weather-proof and made it comfortable and convenient. Single-handed, he completed the mud hut with windows and doors all made of bamboos and jungle material. Kamban and Valmiki vie with each other in their accounts of this episode. Kamban says that when Lakshmana had completed the structure, Rama embraced him weeping and asked him: "When and how did you learn all this?" One can imagine the scene. Rama, his eyes filled with tears of joy, said, according to Kamban: "The flowersoft feet of the Princess of Mithila have traversed the hard forest floor. If her feet have done a wonder, why, Lakshmana, Here, beside the lovely Chitrakuta hill, on the bank of the river Malyavati, in that cottage the three young people lived, free from care, performing their daily devotional routine. They forgot that they were in exile and spent the time happily, like Indra in Heaven surrounded by the gods. The happy life in Chitrakuta is a wonderful background to set off the later sufferings and sorrows of the three. 

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

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21. A MOTHER'S GRIEF

RAMAYANA AND EASY ENGLISH- TWO IN ONE.

17. SITA'S RESOLVE

 What took place in the inner apartments of the palace was not yet known to the town-people. But Rama for his part lost no time in preparing for forest life. He went to Queen Kausalya to receive her blessings before leaving the city. Kausalya said to him again: "How can I stay in Ayodhya after you are gone? It is best that I go with you to the forest." Of course, she knew that her duty was to serve her husband in his old age and share his sorrow in Ayodhya. And yet her mind was now so confused by grief that she did not see things clearly. But Rama would not hear of it and put her in mind of her duty to be with the heart-stricken old King in his sad solitude. She recognised the justice of this counsel. She gave him her benedictions in sweet words diluted with the salt of broken tears. "Do as your father has decreed and return in glory." Rama put heart in her with a smile saying: "The fourteen years will pass quickly and you will see me back." The poet says that, as Rama received his mother's benedictions, his bright face glowed with added effulgence. How truly he pictures the sublime loveliness that comes of a great renunciation that illumines one's being as with an Inner Light! We saw that Rama left Sita and went to the King in answer to the message brought by Sumantra. Sita was expecting Rama to return in a chariot with the royal umbrella, followed by a great retinue. But now she saw Rama return alone, unattended, with none of the royal insignia. And she noted on his face the glow of some fixed resolve. Rama was thinking as he came how he could break to his beloved the news that his father had decreed that he was to go to forest. "Something troubles the mind of my lord," thought Sita, "but what can anything matter so long as there is our love?" And she asked him: "What is the matter? Why do you look so strangely?" Rama told the story briefly and then added: "Princess, my love, I can well imagine your sorrow at having to part from me and stay here. Janaka's daughter requires not my guidance to her duty. Be thoughtful of the comfort of the King and the three Queens, your mothers. Do not expect any better treatment than that given to the other princesses in the palace. Be respectful to Bharata who will be ruler and guard against any offence to his feelings. Your love for me, I trust, will not

Your love for me, I trust, will not grow any less during this absence. I shall return from forest after these fourteen years. Till then do not neglect customary rites and ceremonies. Mother Kausalya in her sorrow will need your attentive care. Bharata and Satrughna are dear to me. You will look upon them as your brothers. Conduct yourself as befits your royal race and your own nature. Avoid extolling me so as to give possible offence to other good men. I must go to the forest today. Keep your mind steady and calm." When Sita heard this unexpected speech, her love for Rama manifested itself as anger that he should for a moment 

conceive that she could consent to part from him and live in comfort in the palace while he was a homeless wanderer in pathless forests. "A fine speech you have made, knower of dharma. It is to me a strange doctrine that a wife is diverse from her husband and that his duty is not hers, and that she has no right to share in it. I can never accept it. I hold that your fortunes are mine, and if Rama has to go to the forest, the command includes Sita also, who is a part of him. I shall walk in front of you in the forest ways and tread the thorns and the hard ground to make them smooth for your feet. Do not think me obstinate. My father and mother have instructed me in dharma. What you tell me is totally opposed to what they have taught me. To go with you wherever you go, that is my only course. If you must go to the forest today, then today I go with you. There is no room here for any discussion. Do not think that I cannot bear forest life. With you by my side it will be a joyous holiday. I shall not be a source of trouble to you. I shall eat fruit and roots like you and I shall not lag behind as we walk. I have long wished to go to the woods with you and rejoice in the sight of great mountains and rivers. I shall spend the time most happily among the birds and flowers, bathing in the rivers and doing the daily rites. Away from you, I do not care for Heaven itself. I shall surely die if you leave me behind. I implore you to take me with you. Have pity on me. Do not forsake me now." Beginning in anger, her speech ended in sobs. Rama explained to Sita that life in the forest was not as easy as she thought and set out at great length the difficulties and dangers and again insisted that she should not think of accompanying him. Sita's eyes filled with tears. "Tigers, lions, bears, snakes none of them will come near me. They will flee from us at the sight of you. The sun, rain, wind and hunger and the spikes and thorny shrubs you speak of, I shall endure them all cheerfully. I am not in the least afraid, and on the other hand you may be certain life will depart from this body if you leave me here and go." "When I was in Mithila," she said, "the Brahmanas and astrologers told my mother that I was destined to live in the forest for a while. Can I fulfil this prediction alone in the forest? Here is the opportunity for me to fulfil it in your company which will make the forest a garden of delight. For whom is forest life unpleasant? Only to those men and women who have not controlled their senses. You and I can be masters of our senses and miss nothing. I implore you, put me not away from you, for parting from you is more cruel than death." There is a strength in supreme love

rom you is more cruel than death." There is a strength in supreme love which defies reason and laughs at death itself. And Rama suffered himself to be persuaded, partly because his love was great as hers and every passionate word she spoke found ready lodgment in his heart, and partly because he was confident of his ability to protect her. It was settled that Sita should accompany Rama to the forest. She sent for the poor and gave away all her belongings and prepared herself for life in the forest. Lakshmana also decided to go with his brother and be of service to him in the forest, and Rama had to agree. The three went to take leave of the aged King. In the streets and on the balconies were crowds of people looking on. Through the windows and from the terraces of mansions, men and women saw Rama and Lakshmana and the princess proceeding

Lakshmana and the princess proceeding on foot, like the poorest in the land. Filled with boundless grief and indignation, the people said to one

another: "What kind of a King is this who sends so noble a prince to the forest? And their Sita walks a princess that should command the service of the royal chariot. Can she bear the heat and the rain of the forest? This is monstrous! We shall go then to the forest too. Let us gather up all we have and get away to the forest with these princes. The forest where Rama dwells shall be our Ayodhya. Let these houses here henceforth deserted be infested with snakes and rats. Let Kaikeyi rule over the ruins of Ayodhya. Wild beasts and vultures of the forest will come to stay here. This will become a forest, and the forest will become Ayodhya." Rama heard people talking thus, but took no notice. At the entrance to Kaikeyi's palace, Rama saw Sumantra seated sorrow fully aside in a corner. Rama tenderly spoke to him: "The three of us have come to meet the King. Sumantra, crave leave for us to enter his presence." Sumantra went, in accordingly to announce them to the King. What a sight met him there! Like the sun in eclipse, like an oven filled all over with ash, like a tank gone dry, the King was stretched flat on the floor, his glory gone and his face shrunken and distorted with anguish. Sumantra, his voice trembling with grief and his hands clasped together, said: "The Prince waits at the entrance and seeks audience to take your blessings before he gives away all he has to the Brahmanas and starts for the Dandaka forest." The King bade Sumantra let the Prince in. Rama came and bowed to the King from a distance. As soon as he saw Rama, the King suddenly rose and rushed with out stretched arms to embrace him, but dropped in a swoon before reaching his son. Rama and Lakshmana tenderly lifted him up and put him on the couch. "My Lord," said Rama, "we have come to seek your leave to go to I the forest. Vaidehi and Lakshmana too are going with me in spite of all I could do to make them desist. Pray give us your benedictions and leave to depart." Dasaratha then said: "Rama, I am bound by the boons that I have given to Kaikeyi. But you are not so bound. Why do you not brush me aside and seize the kingdom by force?" That had long been in the King's mind as the best and only solution of this cruel problem and came out now clearly in words. But Rama said: "I have no desire for kingdom or power, father. May you reign for a thousand years more. My heart is now set on going to the forest and I am even now in readin

But Rama said: "I have no desire for kingdom or power, father. May you reign for a thousand years more. My heart is now set on going to the forest and I am even now in readiness to start after receiving your blessing. When the fourteen years have passed I shall return and tender obeisance." The King's faint hope, it was now clear, must be abandoned. "My son! Bring glory to our line of kings. Go, but come back unscathed. May danger flee from your path. Cling to dharma. You are unshakable in resolution. Firm and unchangeable is your will. But do not go away today. Spend but this night here with me. Let me fill my eyes with the sight of you. You can go away at dawn. Like one handling a live coal deceptively covered with ash, I gave the promise to Kaikeyi not knowing what was in her mind. I am now helpless and caught in her net. And you say, 'I shall fulfil my father's promise. I shall not 

mind. I am now helpless and caught in her net. And you say, 'I shall fulfil my father's promise. I shall not let dishonor blot the name of my father. I shall give up the kingdom and go to the forest.' Where in the world can one find a son like unto you? I swear to you, I did not intend this great wrong.

Thus piteously spoke the King. It was Dasharatha's wish to die without losing, even in his last moments, the respect of Rama. "Father, send for Bharata at once and fulfil the promise you have given to mother Kaikeyi. Do not be troubled by the thought that you are doing me a wrong, for I had no desire for the throne, and do not feel it a deprivation to be denied it. Untroubled by grief or doubt, have Bharata crowned and give him your blessings. Cast all grief aside. Shed no tears. Can the ocean dry up? So may you too not lose your balance ever, great father. My sole wish is to make good the word you gave. If I got all the wealth of the world, but falsify your word, what joy would that be to me? I shall spend my time happily in the forest. Where but in the forests can one find beauty or joy? Father, you are my God. I take it that it is God that sends me to the forest. When the fourteen years are over, you will see me again. Do not grieve. What profits it that I stay here a night longer and go tomorrow? Time is made up of a succession of tomorrows and one day is just like another. Inevitable sorrows do not become joys by postponement." "Well then, send for the commanders," said the King to Sumantra, "and order them to get ready the chariots, elephants, horses and foot soldiers, to go with Rama to the forest. And along with the army send all the necessary stores for Rama to live with the Rishis of the forest. Let there be nothing wanting in men, money or things." Poor Dasaratha imagined that he could make Rama's exile to the forest something like a royal tour affording a pleasant change from routine and enlivened by exchange of gracious hospitalities with the sylvan population. As he spoke Kaikeyi's face paled with anger. She glowered at the King, and in a voice tremulous with scornful wrath she said: "A good and generous monarch surely! You will give Bharata this kingdom after squeezing out of it all the good it holds, as one might offer in mockery an empty drinking vessel to a man dying of thirst! What pleasure or glory will my son have in ruling a deserted state?" Dasaratha groaned in helpless chagrin and marveled at a cruelty that could stab a man already crushed under an intolerable burden. Angry words rose from the mouths of those around, for even the courtiers found this open heartlessness more than they could suffer in silence. Rama put an end to all recriminations by saying he would not agree to take paraphernalia incongruous with what was intended in forest life. 

"Honored Lord," he said, "what use have I, who am departing to the forest to live on what sylvan nature yields, for an army or the glittering equipage of a royal pageant? After gladly renouncing the throne, what use have I for its restrains? Would it not be covetous folly, after having parted with the elephant, to burden oneself with the ponderous chain? Father, I have cheerfully relinquished my claim to the kingdom in favor of Bharata and his mother, and with it all the incidents of royalty. For my fourteen years of forest life I require nothing but bark garments such as Rishis wear and simple necessaries of forest life such as spades and baskets." Hardly had Rama spoken these words when the unabashed Kaikeyi hastened to produce the forest dres

Hardly had Rama spoken these words when the unabashed Kaikeyi hastened to produce the forest dress! She had kept it ready and gave it herself without a blush to Rama. Then and there Rama dressed himself in bark. And in these garments be shone like a Rishi. Lakshmana too changed into bark dress, while Dasaratha watched all this in helpless anguish. Then Kaikeyi brought a bark dress for Sita too. She received it and stood bewildered, for she had never worn such garments before and did not know how to change into them. Approaching Rama, who stood there resplendent with divine effulgence, Sita said shyly: "Pray tell me, how does one put this thing on?" As Rama took up the bark dress and, wrapping it over Sita's silk, made a knot over her shoulder, the ladies-in-waiting wailed aloud and Dasaratha fell into a swoon. When he regained consciousness, he loudly reviled Kaikeyi, but she only smiled scornfully. She surely was not responsible for Sita going to the forest. The princess sought her own pleasure by going to the forest with her husband and would not be dissuaded. Lowering his eyes as he was leaving, Rama said: "Father, I leave behind my mother Kausalya, blameless and tenderhearted lady, bereft of her son in her old age. This sudden fate is bitter to her as death, but she consents to live only for your sake, to share your sorrow and console you. She is incapable of harboring an unkind thought towards anyone, and she has never before felt the pang of such poignant parting. Be kind to her when I am no longer here and, when I return after my long exile in the hope of putting my head on her feet, let me not hear that she has died of sorrow." Thus Rama spoke, unable to bear the thought of his mother's grief. As Rama went out speaking thus, Dasaratha could not endure the sight and covered his face with his hands. 

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

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18. TO THE FOREST AFTER

 Rama left his father's presence with these words, the stricken King lay prostrated in speechless sorrow, and it was some time before he could muster his faculties sufficiently even to think. When he recovered some strength, he muttered half unconsciously: "Surely I must in a previous birth have inflicted hideous suffering to loving hearts. I must have torn calves from their mothers, children from their parents, husbands from their wives. How else could I suffer thus? And death does not come when we want it. And I have to endure the torture of always having before my mind's eye my godlike son deprived of his birthright and forced into the bark-garments of a hermit. O life, how bitterly you cling to those who would be rid of you! Rama has gone into exile and yet I do not die! Rama ... Rama ... Have you gone? ..." A little later, his mind clearer, the King said: "Sumantra, get ready the chariot and take my sons and Janaki to the frontier o

A little later, his mind clearer, the King said: "Sumantra, get ready the chariot and take my sons and Janaki to the frontier of the kingdom." Lakshmana touched the feet of his mother Sumitra and uttered the single word "Mother." She embraced him, kissed his head and said: "Your devotion to your brother has filled your mother's heart with pride and joy. It is your duty, child, to guard and serve Rama. Always stand in vigilant watch by Rama's side in the forest. Your elder brother is to you both preceptor and king. This is the dharma of our race. Go with my blessing, Lakshmana. In the forest, regard Rama as your father and look upon Janaki as myself and the forest will be to you as Ayodhya. Go cheerfully, my dear son, and God bless you." In the Ramayana, 

 Sumitra is a woman of few words and mature wisdom and great tact and infinite courage, full of faith, in whom 'hope shines like a fame when it has gone out in all others.' The tradition is that Sumitra knew Rama's divinity and the purpose of his incarnation and that this enabled her not only to COMFORT Kausalya but to see a holy ministration in Lakshmana's sharing Rama's exile. Sumitra said: "Ascend the chariot, O Prince. God blesses you. Tell me where I am to drive, for the fourteen-year period has begun, my Prince." Sita got up the chariot cheerfully. Kausalya had made up for her a packet of personal requirements. The shields, bows and arrows and other weapons of the two brothers together with pickaxes and baskets were placed in the chariot. Pickaxes and baskets are essential in the forest. Rama and Lakshmana ascended the chariot. Sumantra drove it forward. Let us pause a while at this stage when Rama's forest life begins, and pray that we may be purified of our sins. Truth, courage and love are the gospel of the Ramayana to us. To give it to us was Rama born. We shall gain these gifts if we meditate on the Princes and Janaki in the bark habiliment as they left the city. The crowds in the street cried to the charioteer: "Go slow, go slow. Let us have a look at Rama's face. Alas, Alas, who could send such children to the forest? How could their mothers endure this sorrow and survive? Look at Vaidehi's face. She is indeed blessed. And Lakshmana is happy to have such a brother to whom he can give devoted service. He is indeed a hero and a knower of dharma." So the people of the city talked among themselves as they followed the chariot. And their grief swelled like a flood. Rama was saying to the good charioteer, "Faster, faster" The people were saying, "slow, slow." And the crowd became bigger and bigger. Sumantra managed somehow to take the chariot out of the press of the mourning town where, in addition to the loud sorrow of the crowded streets, the houses were full of mourning women and children. The King stepped out of Kaikeyi's apartment and looked at the departing chariot. A long time he stood there watching the cloud of dust as though he saw in it the beloved form of Rama. When even this went out of sight, he fell down, moaning. Kausalya and Kaikeyi sat on either side. "Do not touch me," said Dasaratha to Kaikeyi. "I hate the sight of you, sinful woman! Everything is at an end between you and me. I renounce you here and now." "If Bharata agrees to your arrangements and accepts the kingdom," he said again, "he need not perform my obsequies, and even if he did, my departed spirit would reject his offering of waters. How can Rama live in the forest? Will he sleep on the bare ground with a stone or a

"If Bharata agrees to your arrangements and accepts the kingdom," he said again, "he need not perform my obsequies, and even if he did, my departed spirit would reject his offering of waters. How can Rama live in the forest? Will he sleep on the bare ground with a stone or a log for a pillow? Will he eat fruits and berries?" Thus the king went on lamenting helplessly. Sometimes he would turn to Kaikeyi and say, "May you be happy in your success! Long may you live a happy widow." Heart-broken and empty like one returning home from the cremation ground, he entered Kaikeyi's apartment by force of habit; then suddenly he said, "Not here. Take me to the dwelling of Kausalya." And so they did, and th

idow." Heart-broken and empty like one returning home from the cremation ground, he entered Kaikeyi's apartment by force of habit; then suddenly he said, "Not here. Take me to the dwelling of Kausalya." And so they did, and there he lay waiting for his end. At midnight, he said, "Kausalya, are you there? Touch me with your hand. My sight is gone with Rama." Poor Kausalya did her best to comfort the King, but what comfort was there in her wounded heart to give? For as the slow sorrow-laden hours crawled from watch to watch, the cold night seemed to

her a devouring flame, and the gentle moon fierce as the noonday sun. To her thus sorrowing Sumitra said: "Sister, you have heard the Shastras and know dharma. Why should you grieve like this? It is your office to put courage in others, you should not lose heart yourself. Rama has gone to the forest for guarding the King's honor. You are indeed blessed among women, for you are the mother of a hero who has scorned a kingdom and preferred to uphold his father's honor. Why should you grieve for a son who fulfils a difficult duty to perfection? We should not feel sorry for one who walks in the path of his ancestors and wins undying fame. I am proud that Lakshmana has accompanied Rama. Janaki, though knowing well the hardships she has to face, has also gone with her husband. Rama's glory will shine like an undying lamp. This is no occasion for grief. His purity, his virtue shall be a shield and armor to them. He is so great and holy that the sunrays falling on him will not burn him and the wind that blows will caress him with its coolness. His pure frame, as he sleeps at night, will be embraced and protected by the moonbeams as an infant is by its loving mother. Shed all anxiety over your heroic son. No foe can en counter him and escape with life. Our Rama is endowed with all auspicious qualities. Your hero son will surely return to Ayodhya and ascend the throne. The Lord of the world, and no other, is Rama. Sita is with him, and Sita is no other than the Goddess Lakshmi. Rama will return and ascending the throne will fill with delight the kingdom which now laments his exile. You saw the grief of the citizens as they watched his departure. My heroic son, the devoted Lakshmana, armed with bow and sword, has gone with him to guard his person. No harm, no danger can approach Rama. You will see with your own eyes Rama returning after fulfilment of his vow. Believe me, Rama will return, beautiful like the full moon, and touch your feet with joy and devotion. You will then shed tears not of grief but of joy. Dear, dear Kausalya, give up your grief. You will see the three of them returning. You should console and encourage the other women in the palace and not stand broken-hearted yourself. Who else in this world stands firm by dharma like Rama? Is this a cause for grief? No, be proud of your son, Kausalya!" Listening to Sumitra's words, Kausalya was somewhat consoled. The people of the city followed Rama's chariot in a huge crowd. They tried to stop the chariot, shouting, "Do not go to the forest. Return to the city." "I am going to the forest to uphold my father's, word," Rama said. "There is no

"I am going to the forest to uphold my father's, word," Rama said. "There is no time for sorrow here and you should not seek to hinder me." But the people would not listen to him, and went in crowds after him shouting wildly: "Do not go to the forest, do not go to the forest!" Rama stopped the chariot and addressed them with his eyes full of love for them: "Citizens of Ayodhya, I know the love you bear for me. You will show it best by transferring it on my behalf, and at my behest, to my beloved brother Bharata. Nothing else will please me more. Bharata is good and noble, has all royal qualities and is fully worthy of love. So conduct yourselves as to please him. Young in years, he is old in wisdom

. So conduct yourselves as to please him. Young in years, he is old in wisdom and his heart is at once heroic and tender. He has the strength to protect you. He is your king, and you owe him loyalty and affection. I am going to the forest to fulfil my father word and the King has appointed Bharata as Yuvaraja. He is in every way fitted for that position. You and I alike should obey the King's commands.

You should go back and try to mitigate the sorrow of my father at parting from me." Thus Rama spoke to them in kindly tones. But they loved him all the more because of this and would not be consoled. Some Brahmanas, old in years and excellent in virtue, looking at the chariot wept and cried: "Why, O horses, do you carry our Rama into the forest? We have heard it said that horses are sharp of hearing. Listen to us then and bring back our Rama." Hearing these words of yearning from old Brahmanas, Rama stopped the chariot. The three descended from it and went forward walking. The common people, leading citizens and wise elders, men of penance, why, even the birds on wings, tried to prevent Rama from going to the forest. The river Tamasa, says the poet, seemed to conspire with them, for now it flowed across his path. The chariot stopped on the riverbank. Sumantra unyoked and watered the horses and let them loose to graze. Rama said: "Lakshmana, this is the first night of our forest life. Let us spend it on the bank of this holy river. Life in the forest holds no hardship, as you and I know. Look, the birds, the animals and even the trees seem to sympathise with us. The only pain is when we think of the grief of our parents in Ayodhya, though I feel reassured as I think of Bharata's nobility and goodness. He will assuredly tend our parents with true affection. Sumantra, go, look after the horses." Then, Rama offered the evening prayers by the river and said: "Let us fast on this first night of our forest life, Lakshmana. Your presence by my side rids me of all care." Lakshmana spread some grass on the ground for Rama and Sita to sleep on but he himself spent the night in vigil talking with Sumantra. Long before dawn Rama rose from sleep and told Sumantra: "The citizens who have followed us, fatigued by their long journey, are fast asleep. I am deeply moved by their affection; but I cannot permit their love to force me to go back. Let us therefore, move on even now, while they are yet asleep." The horses were harnessed and the chariot slowly crossed the river. Standing on the southern bank, Rama told Sumantra: "If you take the chariot to the other shore, where the people are asleep, and drive it for a little distance towards Ayodhya and then bring it back to this side, we can proceed on our journey before they wake up. They will see the track of the chariot going towards the city,  and thinking that we have returned home, may themselves go back. Unless you do this the crowd will go on following us." Sumantra did this and, when the chariot returned, the three got into it again and proceeded southwards.

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

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19. ALONE BY THEMSELVES.

RAMAYANA-EASY ENGLISH-

16. STORM AND CALM  

 RAMA went to Queen Kausalya's dwelling.

 Many visitors were assembled there, eagerly awaiting the coronation.

 In the innermost apartment, the Queen, clad in white silk, was before the sacrificial fire invoking blessings on her son. 

As soon as Rama entered, she embraced him and showed him, who she thought, was to become the Yuvaraja, to a specially raised seat. "Mother, this seat is now too high for me," said Rama. 

"I am a hermit and should sit on grass spread on the floor.

 I have brought you news, which may sadden you. 

, and give me your blessings."

 And he told her briefly what had happened: "The King wishes to give the crown to Bharata. His command is that I should spend fourteen years in the Dandaka forest. 

I must leave today, mother, and I come for your blessings before I go." 

When Kausalya heard this, she fell on the ground like a plantain tree suddenly cut down.

 Lakshmana and Rama gently raised her. 

She clung to Rama and cried: "Is my heart made of stone or iron that I still live?"

Lakshmana could not bear the sight of the Queen's grief. 

Angrily he spoke: "This old King has pronounced on Rama a doom that is reserved for the most wicked evil-doers.

 What sin or crime has Rama committed? 

Not even his worst enemy could find any fault in Rama. 

The doting old man has lost his senses over his young wife and is not fit to be king any more. 

How can a king listen to a woman and violate dharma? 

Even your enemies, O! Rama, when they look at you begin to love you, but this dotard of a father sends you to the forest. 

 Mother, now you will see the strength of my arm and so will you, brother." Lakshmana's words were some solace to Kausalya, but yet this strange talk of ousting the King and seizing the throne frightened her. 

 said: "Rama, consider well what Lakshmana says. Don't go to the forest. 

IF you go away, how can I stay here all alone among enemies? 

I too shall go with you."

 Rama had listened in silence to Lakshmana's outburst, for it was wise to let the pent up passion find outlet in words.

 Then, turning to Kausalya he said: "Mother, let there be no talk of anyone going with me to the forest.

 It is your duty to stay here serving the King and sharing the sorrow that has come to him in his old age. 

How can the crowned Queen of an Emperor wander with me like a widow in the forest? 

This cannot be.

 I shall return after my term of forest life.

 It is my duty to fulfil my father's word. 

It is all the same to me, whether it is just or unjust, spontaneous or extorted by force or fraud. 

If I fail in this primary duty, I can gain no satisfaction or good name through any amount of wealth or power.

 Lakshmana, your proposals are quite wrong.

 I know your great strength and I have no doubt that you can vanquish and destroy all opponents and secure for me the kingdom. 

I know also your affection for me. 

But the way in which you propose to use it is not worthy of the dynasty to which we belong. 

Our highest duty is to fulfil our father's word. 

If we fail in that, no other achievement can make up for it." 

Rama tried to console both his mother and his brother, but Lakshmana's anger could not be easily put down.

 Perhaps it could have been, if he himself, not Rama, were the sufferer.

 But it was Rama who was the victim of this cruel injustice. 

And so Lakshmana writhed in anger like a wounded cobra.

 Rama took him apart, made him sit down and tried to calm him: "Lakshmana, are you not my other self, my very soul in another body? 

Listen to me. 

 are courageous and strong. 

Control your anger and grief on my account. 

Don't allow these evil spirits to possess you. 

Holding fast to dharma, let us convert our present disgrace into a great joy.

 Let us forget all about the coronation, and think worthily as becomes our race.

 Consider our father's condition. 

Our hearts should go out to him in sympathy, for he is stricken with a great sorrow. 

Whatever be the reason, he gave a promise and if he should break it, he would be committing a shameful sin which would besmirch and blot out all his great and glorious deeds. 

He is heartbroken at the wrong he feels he has done me.

 But I do not feel it a wrong at all, for a king must keep his word and a son must obey his father. 

You should show that you too are free from any sense of injury. Only so can we bring him mental relief. 

He gave us the life that we hold and we should give him peace of mind. 

He is afraid about the other world.

 We should free him from this fear.

 So far, we have never given him cause for sorrow or dissatisfaction. 

Now we have become the cause of a great fear in his mind about what is to happen to him in the other world. 

We can easily relieve him.

 Instead of doing this, are we to add to his troubles? 

For this reason my mind has altogether turned away from the coronation and is intent on the journey to the forest. 

My sole desire now is to go to the forest and see that Bharata is crowned. 

This would please me best. 

If I delay, Kaikeyi will grow suspicious. 

Hence I should go to the forest this very day and bring peace to her mind. 

Rid of the fear of the sin of breaking a promise and assured of my willing and cheerful acceptance of his command, our father will be happy. 

And we should not be angry with Kaikeyi either.

 Has she not been kind to us all these years?

 That she should suddenly conceive this idea is surely the working of fate. 

We should not blame her for it. 

One proposes something and fate decides otherwise. 

In this, Kaikeyi is but a passive instrument in the hand of fate. Our little mother will have to bear the grievous burden of the world's blame, but our love for her should remain the same as ever. 

If, before this, there had been evil in her thought, her conduct would have shown it. 

There is no doubt that some higher force has made her say suddenly and harshly, 'Rama, go to the forest.' 

Otherwise how could a high-minded woman who so far looked upon us as her own children now behave so brazenly before her husband? 

Who can oppose destiny? 

Even steadfast sages have swerved suddenly from their tapas. 

How can poor Kaikeyi hope to resist fate?

 Let us resolve firmly to change this sorrow into joy.

 That would be a proof of our nobility and courage, Lakshmana. With the blessings of my mothers and elders, I shall go to the forest.

 Bring here the water, the water from the Ganga for the coronation.

 I shall use it for ablution before departing for the forest. 

No. no, that water belongs to the State and is intended for the coronation. 

How can we touch it? 

We shall go to holy Ganga ourselves and fetch the water for my ablution. 

Brother, be not sad thinking of kingdom or wealth; 

life in the forest will be my highest joy." 

So Rama revealed to his brother his inmost thoughts. 

In these passages Valmiki uses the word daiva. 

In Sanskrit literature, daivam means fate. Daivam, dishtam, bhagyam, niyati and vidhi are all words conveying the idea of something unexpected and inexplicable. 

Because of the belief in God as the Prime Cause, a natural confusion arises between fate and God's will.

 What Rama said to Lakshmana on the present occasion does not mean that he thought that the gods contrived Kaikeyi's action for their own benefit. 

Rama offered no more than the usual consolation: 

"It is the work of fate. Do not grieve. No one is to blame for this." In the Kamban Ramayana also, addressing his brother 'raging like the fire of dissolution,' 

Rama says: "It is not the river's fault that the bed is dry.

Even so, my going hence is not the King's fault, nor Queen Kaikeyi's nor her son's. 

The wrong is the work of fate. 

Why should one be angry then?" 

This explanation calmed Lakshmana for a while.

 But soon his anger boiled up again. He said: "Very well, then. This is the work of fate.

 Fate, I grant, is the cause of our step-mother's sudden folly.

 And I am not angry with her. 

But are we, on that account, to sit still and do nothing?

 It is Kshatriya dharma to overcome evil and establish justice. 

A hero does not bow down before fate. 

Having announced Rama's coronation by beat of drum to the town and country, the treacherous King invokes some old forgotten boon and orders you to go to the forest. 

Only Rama's coronation by beat of drum to the town and country, the treacherous King invokes some old forgotten boon and orders you to go to the forest. 

Is it manly to call this fate and obey it meekly? 

Only cowards go down under fate.

 Heroes should oppose and vanquish it. 

I am no weakling to yield to fate. 

You will see today the might of a hero matched against fate. 

I shall tame the mad elephant fate and make it serve me. 

I shall banish to the forest those who conspired to banish you. 

If you wish to visit the forest for a change, you can do so later.

The proper time for it will be when you have reigned as king for many years and then entrusted the crown to your sons. 

That was the way of our ancestors. 

If anyone questions your kingship now, I stand here to annihilate him. 

Are these two shoulders merely for beauty? 

This bow, these arrows and this sword hanging on my side are they mere decorations? 

Or do you think they are theatrical equipment put on for show?

 I await your orders.

 Give me the word and test my prowess." 

Rama gently pacified Lakshmana's rage which was flaming up into conflagration. 

"As long as our parents are alive," said Rama, "it is our duty to obey them. 

I cannot dream of disobeying my father. 

It is our prime duty to do his bidding and enable him to fulfil his pledge.

 What joy is there in getting a kingship after insulting our parents and slaying Bharata, the embodiment of dharma?"

 And he wiped with his hand the tears from Lakshmana's eyes. When Rama did this, Lakshmana grew calm for the affectionate magic of Rama's hand could work wonders. 

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

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 17. SITA'S RESOLVE 

What took place in the inner apartments of the palace was not yet known to the town-people. But Rama for his part lost no time in preparing for forest life. He went to Queen Kausalya to receive her blessings before leaving the city. Kausalya said to him again: "How can I stay in Ayodhya after you are gone? It is best that I go with you to the forest." Of course, she knew that her duty was to serve her husband in his old age and share his sorrow in Ayodhya. And yet her mind was now so confused by grief that she did not see things clearly. But Rama would not hear of it and put her in mind of her duty to be with the heart-stricken old King in his sad solitude. She recognised the justice of this counsel. She gave him her benedictions in sweet words diluted with the salt of broken tears. "Do as your father has decreed and return in glory." Rama put heart in her with a smile saying: "The fourteen years will pass quickly and you will see me back." The poet says that, as Rama received his mother's benedictions, his bright face glowed with added effulgence. How truly he pictures the sublime loveliness that comes of a great renunciation that illumines one's being as with an Inner Light! We saw that Rama left Sita and went to the King in answer to the message brought by Sumantra. Sita was expecting Rama to return in a chariot with the royal umbrella, followed by a great retinue. But now she saw Rama return alone, unattended, with none of the royal insignia. And she noted on his face the glow of some fixed resolve. Rama was thinking as he came how he could break to his beloved the news that his father had decreed that he was to go to forest. "Something troubles the mind of my lord," thought Sita, "but what can anything matter so long as there is our love?" And she asked him: "What is the matter? Why do you look so strangely?" Rama told the story briefly and then added: "Princess, my love, I can well imagine your sorrow at having to part from me and stay here. Janaka's daughter requires not my guidance to her duty. Be thoughtful of the comfort of the King and the three Queens, your mothers. Do not expect any better treatment than that given to the other princesses in the palace. Be respectful to Bharata who will be ruler and guard against any offence to his feelings. Your love for me, I trust, will not grow any less during this absence. I shall return from forest after these fourteen years. Till then do not neglect customary rites and ceremonies. Mother Kausalya i

Mother Kausalya in her sorrow will need your attentive care. Bharata and Satrughna are dear to me. You will look upon them as your brothers. Conduct yourself as befits your royal race and your own nature. Avoid extolling me so as to give possible offence to other good men. I must go to the forest today. Keep your mind steady and calm." When Sita heard this unexpected speech, her love for Rama manifested itself as anger that he should for a moment. 

conceive that she could consent to part from him and live in comfort in the palace while he was a homeless wanderer in pathless forests. "A fine speech you have made, knower of dharma. It is to me a strange doctrine that a wife is diverse from her husband and that his duty is not hers, and that she has no right to share in it. I can never accept it. I hold that your fortunes are mine, and if Rama has to go to the forest, the command includes Sita also, who is a part of him. I shall walk in front of you in the forest ways and tread the thorns and the hard ground to make them smooth for your feet. Do not think me obstinate. My father and mother have instructed me in dharma. What you tell me is totally opposed to what they have taught me. To go with you wherever you go, that is my only course. If you must go to the forest today, then today I go with you. There is no room here for any discussion. Do not think that I cannot bear forest life. With you by my side it will be a joyous holiday. I shall not be a source of trouble to you. I shall eat fruit and roots like you and I shall not lag behind as we walk. I have long wished to go to the woods with you and rejoice in the sight of great mountains and rivers. I shall spend the time most happily among the birds and flowers, bathing in the rivers and doing the daily rites. Away from you, I do not care for Heaven itself. I shall surely die if you leave me behind. I implore you to take me with you. Have pity on me. Do not forsake me now." Beginning in anger, her speech ended in sobs. Rama explained to Sita that life in the forest was not as easy as she thought and set out at great length the difficulties and dangers and again insisted that she should not think of accompanying him. Sita's eyes filled with tears. "Tigers, lions, bears, snakes none of them will come near me. They will flee from us at the sight of you. The sun, rain, wind and hunger and the spikes and thorny shrubs you speak of, I shall endure them all cheerfully. I am not in the least afraid, and on the other hand you may be certain life will depart from this body if you leave me here and go." "When I was in Mithila," she said, "the Brahmanas and astrologers told my mother that I was destined to live in the forest for a while. Can I fulfil this prediction alone in the forest? Here is the opportunity for me to fulfil it in your company which will make the forest a garden of delight. For whom is forest life unpleasant? Only to those men and women who have not controlled their senses. You and I can be masters of our senses and miss nothing. I implore you, put me not away from you, for parting from you is more cruel than death." There is a strength in supreme love

There is a strength in supreme love which defies reason and laughs at death itself. And Rama suffered himself to be persuaded, partly because his love was great as hers and every passionate word she spoke found ready lodgment in his heart, and partly because he was confident of his ability to protect her. It was settled that Sita should accompany Rama to the forest. She sent for the poor and gave away all her belongings and prepared herself for life in the forest. Lakshmana also decided to go with his brother and be of service to him in the forest, and Rama had to agree. The three went to take leave of the aged King. In the streets and on the balconies were crowds of people looking on. Through the windows and from the terraces of mansions, men and women saw Rama and 

men and women saw Rama and Lakshmana and the princess proceeding on foot, like the poorest in the land. Filled with boundless grief and indignation, the people said to one

another: "What kind of a King is this who sends so noble a prince to the forest? And their Sita walks a princess that should command the service of the royal chariot. Can she bear the heat and the rain of the forest? This is monstrous! We shall go then to the forest too. Let us gather up all we have and get away to the forest with these princes. The forest where Rama dwells shall be our Ayodhya. Let these houses here henceforth deserted be infested with snakes and rats. Let Kaikeyi rule over the ruins of Ayodhya. Wild beasts and vultures of the forest will come to stay here. This will become a forest, and the forest will become Ayodhya." Rama heard people talking thus, but took no notice. At the entrance to Kaikeyi's palace, Rama saw Sumantra seated sorrow fully aside in a corner. Rama tenderly spoke to him: "The three of us have come to meet the King. Sumantra, crave leave for us to enter his presence." Sumantra went, in accordingly to announce them to the King. What a sight met him there! Like the sun in eclipse, like an oven filled all over with ash, like a tank gone dry, the King was stretched flat on the floor, his glory gone and his face shrunken and distorted with anguish. Sumantra, his voice trembling with grief and his hands clasped together, said: "The Prince waits at the entrance and seeks audience to take your blessings before he gives away all he has to the Brahmanas and starts for the Dandaka forest." The King bade Sumantra let the Prince in. Rama came and bowed to the King from a distance. As soon as he saw Rama, the King suddenly rose and rushed with out stretched arms to embrace him, but dropped in a swoon before reaching his son. Rama and Lakshmana tenderly lifted him up and put him on the couch. "My Lord," said Rama, "we have come to seek your leave to go to I the forest. Vaidehi and Lakshmana too are going with me in spite of all I could do to make them desist. Pray give us your benedictions and leave to depart." Dasaratha then said: "Rama, I am bound by the boons that I have given to Kaikeyi. But you are not so bound. Why do you not brush me aside and seize the kingdom by force?" That had long been in the King's mind as the best and only solution of this cruel problem and came out now clearly in words. But Rama said: "I have no desire for kingdom or power, father. May you reign for a thousand years more. My heart is now set on going to the forest and I am

now set on going to the forest and I am even now in readiness to start after receiving your blessing. When the fourteen years have passed I shall return and tender obeisance." The King's faint hope, it was now clear, must be abandoned. "My son! Bring glory to our line of kings. Go, but come back unscathed. May danger flee from your path. Cling to dharma. You are unshakable in resolution. Firm and unchangeable is your will. But do not go away today. Spend but this night here with me. Let me fill my eyes with the sight of you. You can go away at dawn. Like one handling a live coal deceptively covered with ash, I gave the promise to Kaikeyi not knowing what was in her mind. I am now he

mind. I am now helpless and caught in her net. And you say, 'I shall fulfil my father's promise. I shall not let dishonor blot the name of my father. I shall give up the kingdom and go to the forest.' Where in the world can one find a son like unto you? I swear to you, I did not intend this great wrong

Thus piteously spoke the King. It was Dasharatha's wish to die without losing, even in his last moments, the respect of Rama. "Father, send for Bharata at once and fulfil the promise you have given to mother Kaikeyi. Do not be troubled by the thought that you are doing me a wrong, for I had no desire for the throne, and do not feel it a deprivation to be denied it. Untroubled by grief or doubt, have Bharata crowned and give him your blessings. Cast all grief aside. Shed no tears. Can the ocean dry up? So may you too not lose your balance ever, great father. My sole wish is to make good the word you gave. If I got all the wealth of the world, but falsify your word, what joy would that be to me? I shall spend my time happily in the forest. Where but in the forests can one find beauty or joy? Father, you are my God. I take it that it is God that sends me to the forest. When the fourteen years are over, you will see me again. Do not grieve. What profits it that I stay here a night longer and go tomorrow? Time is made up of a succession of tomorrows and one day is just like another. Inevitable sorrows do not become joys by postponement." "Well then, send for the commanders," said the King to Sumantra, "and order them to get ready the chariots, elephants, horses and foot soldiers, to go with Rama to the forest. And along with the army send all the necessary stores for Rama to live with the Rishis of the forest. Let there be nothing wanting in men, money or things." Poor Dasaratha imagined that he could make Rama's exile to the forest something like a royal tour affording a pleasant change from routine and enlivened by exchange of gracious hospitalities with the sylvan population. As he spoke Kaikeyi's face paled with anger. She glowered at the King, and in a voice tremulous with scornful wrath she said: "A good and generous monarch surely! You will give Bharata this kingdom after squeezing out of it all the good it holds, as one might offer in mockery an empty drinking vessel to a man dying of thirst! What pleasure or glory will my son have in ruling a deserted state?" Dasaratha groaned in helpless chagrin and marveled at a cruelty that could stab a man already crushed under an intolerable burden. Angry words rose from the mouths of those around, for even the courtiers found this open heartlessness more than they could suffer in silence. Rama put an end to all recriminations by saying he would not agree to take paraphernalia incongruous w

incongruous with what was intended in forest life. "Honored Lord," he said, "what use have I, who am departing to the forest to live on what sylvan nature yields, for an army or the glittering equipage of a royal pageant? After gladly renouncing the throne, what use have I for its restrains? Would it not be covetous folly, after having parted with the elephant, to burden oneself with the ponderous chain? Father, I have cheerfully relinquished my claim to the kingdom in favor of Bharata and his mother, and with it all the incidents of royalty. For my fourteen years of forest life I require nothing but bark garments such as Rishis wear and simple necessaries of forest life such as spades and baskets." Hardly had Rama spoken these words when the unabashed Kaikeyi hastened to produce the forest dress! She had kept it ready and gave it herself w

She had kept it ready and gave it herself without a blush to Rama. Then and there Rama dressed himself in bark. And in these garments be shone like a Rishi. Lakshmana too

changed into bark dress, while Dasaratha watched all this in helpless anguish. Then Kaikeyi brought a bark dress for Sita too. She received it and stood bewildered, for she had never worn such garments before and did not know how to change into them. Approaching Rama, who stood there resplendent with divine effulgence, Sita said shyly: "Pray tell me, how does one put this thing on?" As Rama took up the bark dress and, wrapping it over Sita's silk, made a knot over her shoulder, the ladies-in-waiting wailed aloud and Dasaratha fell into a swoon. When he regained consciousness, he loudly reviled Kaikeyi, but she only smiled scornfully. She surely was not responsible for Sita going to the forest. The princess sought her own pleasure by going to the forest with her husband and would not be dissuaded. Lowering his eyes as he was leaving, Rama said: "Father, I leave behind my mother Kausalya, blameless and tenderhearted lady, bereft of her son in her old age. This sudden fate is bitter to her as death, but she consents to live only for your sake, to share your sorrow and console you. She is incapable of harboring an unkind thought towards anyone, and she has never before felt the pang of such poignant parting. Be kind to her when I am no longer here and, when I return after my long exile in the hope of putting my head on her feet, let me not hear that she has died of sorrow." Thus Rama spoke, unable to bear the thought of his mother's grief. As Rama went out speaking thus, Dasaratha could not endure the sight and covered his face with his hands. 18. TO THE FOREST AFTER Rama left his father's presence with these words, the stricken King lay prostrated in speechless sorrow, and it was some time before he could muster his faculties sufficiently even to think. When he recovered some strength, he muttered half unconsciously: "Surely I must in a previous birth have inflicted hideous suffering to loving hearts. I must have torn calves from their mothers, children from their parents, husbands from their wives. How else could I suffer thus? And death does not come when we want it. And I have to endure the torture of always having before my mind's eye my godlike son deprived of his birthright and forced into the bark-garments of a hermit. O life, how bitterly you cling to those who would be rid of you! Rama has gone into exile and yet I do not die! Rama ... Rama ... Have you gone? ..." A little later, his mind clearer, the King

gone into exile and yet I do not die! Rama ... Rama ... Have you gone? ..." A little later, his mind clearer, the King said: "Sumantra, get ready the chariot and take my sons and Janaki to the frontier of the kingdom." Lakshmana touched the feet of his mother Sumitra and uttered the single word "Mother." She embraced him, kissed his head and said: "Your devotion to your brother has filled your mother's heart with pride and joy. It is your duty, child, to guard and serve Rama. Always stand in vigilant watch by Rama's side in the forest. Your elder brother is to you both preceptor and king. This is the dharma of our race. Go with my blessing, Lakshmana. In the forest, regard Rama as your father and look upon Janaki as myself and the forest will be to you as Ayodhya. Go cheerfully, my dear son, and

Go with my blessing, Lakshmana. In the forest, regard Rama as your father and look upon Janaki as myself and the forest will be to you as Ayodhya. Go cheerfully, my dear son, and God bless you." In the Ramayana, Sumitra is a woman of few words and mature wisdom and great tact and infinite courage, full of faith, in whom 'hope shines like a fame when it has gone out in all others.' The tradition is that Sumitra knew Rama's divinity and the purpose of his incarnation and that this enabled her not only to

RAMAYANA=EASY ENGLISH- DASARATHA'S LAST DAY

15. BEHOLD A WONDER!

 POOR Dasaratha was in extreme agony, pulled by natural affection on one side and by the moral obligation to fulfil a pledge on the other. 

He had fondly hoped that Kaikeyi would relent and that somehow the conflict of duties would be resolved. 

But now he saw that this was not to be.

 He had still one faint hope: "Rama is in no way bound by my promises and pledges. 

Strong as he is in people's love and in his peerless prowess, he may disregard my promise, and stand on his own rights.

 But I cannot conceive his doing so, for my slightest wish has always been sacred to him. 

Yet, if by some chance he did so, it would save the situation."

 In the confusion and anguish of his heart, the old King consoled himself with such false hopes, forgetting that Rama
would never think of disregarding his father's promise and that filial obedience was a fundamental rule of his life. 

But the false hopes did not persist long. 

He felt that his death was near.

 In this agonising conflict of duties, death would be a relief, and save him from the disruption and sorrows to come.

 As death drew near, his mind recalled past events.

 He remembered a great sin committed by him in youth. 

He felt that he was now reaping what he then sowed: "I killed the Rishi's son and brought grief to his aged parents.

 How could this sin be wiped off except by my suffering the anguish of losing a dear son?" 

Thus Dasaratha resigned himself to his fate as a just retribution for the wrong he had once done.

 He concluded that be had no alternative but to fulfil his word to his cruel wife and left the ordering of things entirely to Kaikeyi. Day dawned. 

The hour fixed for the coronation was approaching. 

The procession of Vasishtha and his disciples carrying the golden vessels containing the waters of holy rivers was coming towards the palace. 

The great street was decorated and was crowded with eager men and women. 

They rejoiced to see Vasishtha and his disciples march to the palace with the holy waters, and the paraphernalia of installation. As they saw the honey, curds, clarified butter, fried rice, sacred grass, flowers, maidens, elephants, horses and chariots, the white umbrella, the bull, the horse and the tiger-skin seat moving to the accompaniment of music from many instruments, the people made loud and jubilant acclamations which filled the air. 

Vasishtha, approaching the palace gate, saw Sumantra and said to him: "Pray, go in at once and inform the King that the people are waiting and all preparations are complete." 

Sumantra approached the King's bedchamber and chanting the morning hymn, conveyed Vasishtha's message.

 "Oh King," he said, "arise from slumber to the hymn of your charioteer as the king of the gods does to Matali's waking songs. May all the gods be gracious unto you. 

The elders, generals, and chief citizens are waiting for your darshan. 

The goddess of night has withdrawn.

 The day's work awaits your ordering. 

Oh King of kings, be pleased to rise.

 Holy Vasishtha and his men are waiting." 

At that moment the King was speechless with agony, but Kaikeyi boldly answered for him and told Sumantra: "The King spent the night talking of Rama's coronation and had no sleep. 

So now he is in a slumber. 

Go at once and bring Rama."

 Thus the clever woman sent Sumantra to fetch Rama to convey the King's command. 

She knew that Dasaratha had agreed but had not the strength to do what had to be done. 

Hence Kaikeyi resolved that she would herself do what needed to be done.

 Sumantra went to Rama's palace. 

Sita and Rama were getting ready for coronation. 

Then Sumantra gave to Rama the message that the King and Queen Kaikeyi wanted his presence. 

Rama hastened to obey. 

The unexpected delay and these strange goings and comings roused doubts, but no one dared to talk of them. 

The men concerned hoped that somehow things would turn out right and went on with their allotted work. 

The streets were brightly decorated; the great hour was approaching as in the Queen's chamber strange and sinister events were developing.
"Why this long delay?" the people wondered. 

"Perhaps the preliminary rites are more elaborate than we had thought." 

The crowds in the streets grew bigger and bigger and more impatient.

 Sumantra accompanied Rama to Kaikeyi's palace, treading the way with difficulty through the throng. 

Rama entered the Queen's apartment.

 As he stepped over the threshold, he started as if he had set his foot upon a snake, for he saw with awe-struck amazement his father lying on the bare floor in anguish. 

The King evidently had been struck down with some great sorrow. His face was like a parijata blossom wilted in the sun. 

He touched his father's feet and paid the same filial worship to Kaikeyi.

 Dasaratha uttered in a low voice the name of Rama and stopped. He could speak no more. 

He could not look straight into the face of Rama.

 Rama was perplexed and filled with apprehension at the sight of his father, lying there unable to speak, in the grip of some great agony. 

What it could be Rama could not even guess.

 He turned to Kaikeyi and said: "Mother, this is indeed strange. No matter how angry he was, my father would speak sweetly to me.

 Have I without knowing it offended him in any matter?

 Has some sudden sickness struck him down? 

Has someone spoken rudely to him? 

Do tell me what has happened. 

I can bear this suspense no longer."

 Bold Kaikeyi seized the chance and said: "The King is angry with no one. 

There is nothing wrong with his health.

 But there is something in his mind which he is afraid to tell you. That is all.

 He is afraid to say it to you, lest you should feel hurt.

 That is why he is silent.

 Once upon a time, pleased with me he offered, and I accepted, the gift to two boons.

 Now, like an uncultured person, the King regrets he did so. 

Is this worthy of him? 

Is it not unbecoming of a King to pledge his word and then regret it?

 You have the power to fulfil his promise, but he fears even to tell you of it and is thinking of violating it. 

Would it be right? 

If you assure him that he need not be anxious about your attitude and that he should keep his word at all costs, you will give him the needed strength to behave righteously.

 You must give him the help he needs. 

The thing is in your hands. 

I shall tell you what it is, but after you promise me that you will help the King to fulfil his pledge." 

Rama, saddened at the thought that he should in any way be the occasion of distress to his father, said to Kaikeyi: "Mother, am I indeed the cause of all this trouble? 

I do not deserve that you should have any doubts about me. 

If my father asks me to jump into the fire, 
I shall not hesitate to do it. 

If he asks me to drink poison, I shall drink it without hesitation. You know this. 

You know well enough that at his bidding I would drown myself in the sea. 

Here mother, I give you my solemn promise that I shall fulfil the King's promise to you, and I never break my word." 

When Rama uttered these words, Kaikeyi exulted, for she knew she had conquered. 

The King for his part was in despair, seeing that all escape was now barred. 

Thereupon the pitiless Kaikeyi uttered these terrible words: "Rama, your words are worthy of you. 

What higher duty has a son than helping fulfilment of the word his father has given? 

Now I shall let you know your father's promise to me. 

When
in the battle with Sambara your father was wounded, I rescued and revived him. 

Your father in gratitude for having been rescued by me when grievously wounded gave me two boons to be claimed and specified when I choose. 

I have claimed and specified them now. 

They are that Bharata should be anointed Yuvaraja and that you should be sent away this very day to the Dandaka forest, to remain in exile for fourteen years. 

You have sworn solemnly to carry out his promise to me, and now it is your duty to prove true to your pledged word.

If you find right conduct as hard as your father did, that is another matter.

 Otherwise, listen to what I say.

 It is for you now to relinquish the installation and to go out into exile with matted locks and hermit weeds, leaving the preparations now ready to serve for Bharata's installation."

 When she uttered these cruel words the King writhed in agony, but Rama heard her untroubled.

 Kaikeyi beheld a miracle. 

There was not the slightest sign of disappointment or sorrow in Rama's face. Smiling, the Prince said: "Is that all, mother? 

Surely, the King's promise must be fulfilled. 

My hair shall be twisted and I shall wear the bark and I shall go this very day to the forest." 

Kaikeyi spoke prophetic words when she said Rama's dutifulness would bring him glory undying. 

That glory will continue as long as the Himalaya stands and the waters of Ganga flow and as long as the ocean-waves beat on the solid earth.

 Rama said to Kaikeyi, in unperturbed tones: "I am not in the least annoyed. 

Would I not be happy to give anything to Bharata? 

 if no one asked me, I would cheerfully give him my all.

 And how can I hold back a moment when my father commands it? 

What pains me a little is that father should have entertained any doubt about my willingness. 

Why should he have hesitated to tell me what he wanted and left it to you to say it to me? 

Am I not his son, bound to do his behest? 

What glory or what joy can I look for except to make good his word? 

How did I deserve it that my father should avert his face from me and refrain from speaking loving words to me? 

My grievance, if at all, is that he did not send for me straight and give me his command. 

I shall go to the forest this very day, with no regret. 

Send swift messengers at once to fetch Bharata home."

 The Prince's face glowed like a sacrificial fire bursting into flame as the ghee is poured into it.

 Kaikeyi felt glad at her apparent success.

 She could not look into the future and its sorrow, for what greater grief can come to a woman than the scorn of her own son? 

Greed deceived her into folly. It prevented her from understanding aright the mind of her own son Bharata. 

Like a captive elephant hemmed in on all sides, Dasaratha lay in anguish. 

With needless harshness, Kaikeyi hurried Rama saying, "Do not wait for the King to speak .

Your father in gratitude for having been rescued by me when grievously wounded gave me two boons to be claimed and specified when I choose. I have claimed and specified them now.

They are that Bharata should be anointed Yuvaraja and that you should be sent away this very day to the Dandaka forest, to remain in exile for fourteen years.

 You have sworn solemnly to carry out his promise to me, and now it is your duty to prove true to your pledged word. If you find right conduct as hard as your father did, that is another matter. Otherwise, listen to what I say. It is for you now to relinquish the installation and to go out into exile with matted locks and hermit weeds, leaving the preparations now ready to serve for Bharata's installation." When she uttered these cruel words the King writhed in agony, but Rama heard her untroubled. Kaikeyi beheld a miracle. There was not the slightest sign of disappointment or sorrow in Rama's face. Smiling, the Prince said: "Is that all, mother? Surely, the King's promise must be fulfilled. My hair shall be twisted and I shall wear the bark and I shall go this very day to the forest." Kaikeyi spoke prophetic words when she said Rama's dutifulness would bring him glory undying. That glory will continue as long as the Himalaya stands and the waters of Ganga flow and as long as the ocean-waves beat on the solid earth. Rama said to Kaikeyi, in unperturbed tones: "I am not in the least annoyed. Would I not be happy to give anything to Bharata? Even if no one asked me, I would cheerfully give him my all. And how can I hold back a moment when my father commands it? What pains me a little is that father should have entertained any doubt about my willingness. Why should he have hesitated to tell me what he wanted and left it to you to say it to me? Am I not his son, bound to do his behest? What glory or what joy can I look for except to make good his word? How did I deserve it that my father should avert his face from me and refrain from speaking loving words to me? My grievance, if at all, is that he did not send for me straight and give me his command. I shall go to the forest this very day, with no regret. Send swift messengers at once to fetch Bharata home." The Prince's face glowed like a sacrificial fire bursting into flame as the ghee is poured into it. Kaikeyi felt glad at her apparent success. She could not look into the future and its sorrow, for what greater grief can come to a woman than the scorn of her own son? Greed deceived her into folly. It prevented her from understanding aright the mind of her own son Bharata. Like a captive elephant hemmed in on all sides, Dasaratha lay in anguish. With needless harshness, Kaikeyi hurried Rama saying, "Do not wait for the King to speak 

At this Rama said: "Mother, you have not, it seems, known me. I value no pleasure higher than to honor my father's pledge. Let Bharata carry the burden of kingship, and look after our aged father. It will indeed give me the greatest joy." Dasaratha, silent till now though listening intently, moaned aloud. Rama touched the feet of his father and Kaikeyi and hurried out of the chamber. Lakshmana had been standing outside. He knew what had happened and with eyes red with anger he followed Rama. On the way Rama saw the vessels holding the consecrated water for the coronation. He walked round them in worship. With calm majesty lie left behind the white umbrella and other royal insignia and advised the crowds
insignia and advised the crowds to disperse. The Prince, in whom desire had been vanquished, went to the house of Queen Kausalya to give her the news and take her blessings before departing to the forest.
Readers should exercise their imagination and build up in their own hearts the passions and sorrows of the persons figuring in this epic. Dasaratha's anguish, Rama's cheerful renunciation and the greedy passion of Kaikeyi which smothered all noble impulses these are familiar phases in our daily lives. Valmiki and Kamban saw with the vision of genius and made the events in Rama's story live again in song. We too should see them through imagination. This is the meaning of the tradition that wherever Rama's tale is told Hanuman himself joins the gathering and reverently stands listening with tear-filled eyes. May everyone that reads this chapter receive by Rama's grace and strength to bear the sorrows that have to be faced in life.

16. STORM AND CALM