Ramayana Read online

  and back-stab the counter-party?’

  Said Rama, ‘Sugreeva sought your mercy

  instead you gave grief to a meek brother —’ ‘You won,’

  said Bali, interrupting, ‘Sugreeva’s support

  against Raavana?

  Is like courting a rabbit to tame a lion …

  One pleading word here

  and I would have died

  rucking to arrange on a platter this Raavana;

  returning, safe

  for your misfiring eyes, Sita.’ Lakshmana

  stepped in, ‘Do not blame Rama. We promised

  Sugreeva we’d keep back

  whilst you brothers fought. You been brass neck:

  you stole a kid brother’s wife, your sister-in-law!’

  The sails of the wind were lifting

  and eager to sail Bali away, but Bali puffed hard and,

  ‘Heyhey! Rama and Lakshmana,

  is blind judgement! In our monkey

  world is apt to take a brother’s

  wife. Becomes my duty

  to protect Ruma once

  my brother scram. My kid

  brother betrayed my trust.

  Plotting against me and leaping

  to the throne ahead of

  my son, Angada. And took my

  Tara to bed. You talking

  incest … treachery?’

  Said Rama, ‘Under my brother, Bharat’s reign in Ayodhya,

  we are here to assist his rule by establishing peace

  wherever we please.’

  ‘Human marital customs

  are alien to us. What is

  wedlock to us, hey? Our

  monkey laws and ways

  are not human customs

  of those who come from

  far-off, from Ayodhya.’

  Said Rama, ‘I am aware of your monkey ways.

  You own plenty insight to know right from wrong

  but when you rule barbarously

  it befalls on man to hunt wild animals.

  Remember man is granted power

  to trap in pits and with nets

  whatever beast is a bane.’

  ‘Is an eye-opener

  when my eyes are

  closing.

  A hunter kills me

  if I’m edible or a

  threat. Was I either,

  hey? Lord Rama,

  you are bent on

  good deeds – I must take

  death by your spear

  as God’s own judgement.’

  Bali’s last words,

  ‘Hey Angada …

  my son …

  make quick shift to the new …

  seek peace with your un—’

  In Bali’s dying, Rama said, ‘Fear not, great Bali.

  Your son and your wife

  are under my protection now.’

  Rama handed back Ruma, to her husband, Sugreeva.

  Rama watched them smiling,

  watched them yo! and behold

  whilst he shuffled off. But then he caught Tara’s stare,

  ‘Now you have trapped him hey, will you eat him?

  Where is the good in parting two so in heaven with love.

  O noble, noble man!’

  Chapter Four: Monsoon Causing up to No Good

  Rama grieves for Sita.

  No animal stirred for the period. Period.

  The sky rumbled and a golden lash

  cut the sky for lightning. The earth on a wizened wind

  sough song, was alliteratively bumbling big drops

  from Indra’s kohl clouds,

  was metaphorically raining constant cats and dogs!

  In the room where he and Sita had slept, he became downcast.

  He was stormed by pangs that uncertainty itself

  and uncertainty of an outcome were drowning him in.

  Mountain water rushing down with flesh and fowl

  served to bring on greater guilt about his wife

  and how she, from him, lay washed away …

  Real or hallucinatory, between trees

  peahens walking with their mates tormented him.

  He who lived daily without eating. So lost in his thoughts

  he did not even brush away a termite mound

  growing about him.

  Flaws coalesced in a mind abuzz as ever with his wife …

  He chased his mind after a girl

  in flowing silks for armour, with a bow of sugarcane

  and flowers for arrows – how could she have felled him so

  softly?

  He could not handle the irony.

  And fell upon the gravest point mankind attains

  and couldn’t haul up his head from the mire.

  Lakshmana saw it all and felt sad

  and could have said: obey a father and lose a wife …

  Instead Lakshmana interceded to groom his brother

  for the formal mood, ‘Rama, as you once told me:

  passion breeds mental chaos.

  This desire, this passion – how far from duty

  you are sinking. Rain that begets our earthly food –

  must we not open our arms to it

  and take on the storm or if we are sunk under … Let

  the rain feed you with its own sweet harmony

  so you shed worldly grief

  so you become fortified for our spiritual observance.

  How else win back Sita-jee?

  Come, let us turn to our allies for support.’

  ‘O brother, Sita and I are but one heart.

  If you tear us apart, what are we but bleeding for the rest …?’

  What could Lakshmana reply but look outside.

  Outside, season over, nature’s traffic

  cheeped and jippered

  with swans, cranes and other aquatic birds in aerial concourse,

  new fish flexing about in the streams

  and areca palms ripened their fruits in golden bunches

  around flowers

  whilst crocodiles spanned out in the sun.

  Peacocks furled their tails and gave up their love games.

  And Rama holding a white thumba flower

  slowly managed his grief

  whilst huffy Lakshmana marched to Kiskinda.

  Lakshmana would find a baggy-eyed Sugreeva,

  baggy clearly from too much partying with molasses wine,

  with honey wine. Or so the sweet air implied.

  Tara was sent at the palace gates

  to receive and then with her fine words placate Lakshmana.

  Sugreeva’s conscience was easily pricked about a mission

  with the mega post-monsoon army he’d promised.

  Chapter Five: Not so by Thiruvengadam

  Sugreeva informs Hanuman about where he should search for Sita.

  Sugreeva became himself and readied an army to locate Sita,

  but first things first, where the heck is the enemy?

  A search party was led by a nigh-on midget monkey,

  Hanuman,

  for only Hanuman could come up trumps.

  Hanuman, that startling white-bodied, white-haired monkey

  quietly memorised all the details Sugreeva imparted.

  ‘Hey Hanuman, you are my most trusted.

  Report to me within thirty days where exactly Sita is captive.

  Now absorb my words.

  Head mostly southwards

  but comb the land from west to east and down.

  Go past the cloud-topping Vindhya mountain peaks

  and search for Sita in every nook of the mountain ranges

  then after that range check along the lovely rivers

  of Bhagirathi, Sarayu and Kausiki

  perhaps even afield to the Yamuna river

  and the mountains in which it rises.

  Then to the Sarasvati, the Sindhu and the Sona

  with their jewel-sparkling waters,

  and nearby is Mahi and then nearby
is Kalamahi

  with its hilly and wooded banks.

  Still no Sita?

  Sweep across to Magadha’s great villages,

  search in the kingdoms of Brahma-mala, Malava,

  in Pundra and Anga; look where the silk worm is bred

  and where silver is mined.

  Then you will reach the range called Hemakuta

  on whose gold-topped towers divine damsels descend

  to spend their hours composing and singing lyrics

  which lull even birds and beasts to sleep.

  Listen hard, Hanuman. Do not let any holy spot

  wobble your legs from the main task.

  If you find yourself by that holiest mountain,

  Thiruvengadam:

  I say, stiffen up. Back off.

  A visit to this spot is your instant

  heaven but seek all reward after Sita is found.

  Besides, how likely is Raavana

  to be rooted at this sacred ladder?

  Your time is limited. Tarry not, yo.

  Look next in the hills, perhaps the hills of Mandara

  where there are people with ears that are

  curtains draping

  down their body:

  ears so long they lollop below their lips,

  and peoples whose faces are made from iron

  and hopping peoples who schlep about on a single leg.

  All these peoples or what they are

  eat only mammal flesh.

  Next look where the beautiful gold-skin hunters

  who are known as human tigers live –

  they live underwater in hill and forest homes.

  Still no Sita? Then veer for the island of Yava-dvipa

  which can only be reached

  by crossing over hills and seas,

  and only you, my magnificent Hanuman, can make this trek.

  Inside the mountains are many lions, tigers, elephants

  and boars roaring the long sundial day

  enchanted only by the echo of the din of their own sounds.

  Yava-dvipa has seven kingdoms

  where is mined gold and silver.

  Look carefully among these terrifying islands

  for here are enormous arsooras

  that catch creatures by their shadows.

  Then by nibbling on the shadow they nibble

  throu

  gh the

  creature’s actual flesh!

  Thereby is a mountain where is the greatest dancer.

  Whilst she dances your ears will fill with erotic song.

  Hema is her name. Hema will help you in,

  but if you enter her mountain

  you enter Death, yo,

  for you cannot give her grooves the slip.

  Your ears will be like bees gumped in the music’s honey.

  And you will drop dead when her song drops off.

  Do not nowhere near enter the shadow of Hema’s mountain

  for the shadow goes against the sun

  for that shadow is Hema’s crafted handiwork.

  Then you will come upon a sea clad with serpents

  where you will greet the blood-red waters

  that are said to be redder even than the waters of Lohita

  where live fierce Mandehas

  who are huge as boulders

  and who hang upside down from mountain peaks.

  They are daily burnt by the sun

  and they daily slip into the ocean

  and then return to hang upside down

  again, each day.

  Soon you are at the ocean of pure water

  where is said all will be floating at Time’s end.

  Go on all fours or fly fast through this scape

  for the sound here will be unbearable –

  wailing creatures of the deep are heard

  for they cannot bear to look at

  the horse-faced son of Wrath-God

  who is held trapped here. Who knows why all this happens?

  Once out of the ocean you are at Jatarupa,

  a mountain where lives a serpent

  with a thousand heads nested atop its head.

  Keep watching him for he is still: silent.

  Yet when he moves he’s reared at you

  before you knew he was there.

  Past Jatarupa, there is a crevice clefting the earth –

  peep down and you may glimpse the serpent Sesha

  who is white like the moon. He upholds Earth on his coils.

  Nobody can travel any further.

  Beyond is the region where several gods roam –

  no sun or moon is here but darkness only for mortal eyes.

  This is as far as monkeys tread

  for we do not know what is beyond

  except is pure walkabout.’

  Storing in his capacious monkey mind every detail,

  diminutive Hanuman was ready for his biggest challenge.

  Rama added, ‘You know not Sita but

  you can observe her by her toe-nails

  glowing red as rubies. Or observe her heels

  for learned men have compared them to a quiver …’

  Lost in sighs, Rama ceased his description.

  Chapter Six: In Bird Brain

  Hanuman seeks help in locating Sita.

  For thirty days Hanuman’s army

  scoured mountains and valleys,

  passed impassable torrents and climbed

  unclimbable crags, ran alongside temples with hidden

  side-doors leading to heaven

  and still Raavana and Sita

  where are they?

  Hanuman called despairing from a mountain tableland,

  ‘Great Jatayu, if you had not died

  only your vision could have enlightened us now.’

  At this, what seemed a vile looking raksassy

  hobbled towards him with giant wings

  all skin-marred, with guzzy feathers.

  It spoke in a cut-glass voice,

  ‘I am the vulture Sampathi, Jatayu’s elder brother.

  Long ago, we were parted

  and now I hear him mentioned as being dead.

  Who killed him? Who would kill my gentle brother?’

  Hanuman explained how they had found Jatayu

  dangling from trees and had buried him

  offering several fat deer in sacrifice

  to the spirit of the departed so Jatayu could find peace.

  Relieved Sampathi explained how the brothers had been

  parted,

  ‘… we would skim and float in the higher skies. One day

  we flew higher than ever so we the heavens might glimpse.

  We flew higher and crossed the path of Sun-God

  who became vexed. Perhaps he assumed we were being

  impudent.

  He bore his full heat on us. I said to Jatayu,

  fly away! I shielded him under my wings whilst he escaped.

  My feathers, as you see are burnt. I tried flying away

  but my propulsion flapped me to this peak.

  I have been here unheard the while, gripping to dear life,

  for my inner vision says redemption from the gods will come

  when I hear Rama uttered within my earshot.’

  At this, Hanuman and his army cried in one voice,

  Rama Zindabad!

  Sampathi’s feathers healed and as he rose

  his wings were again

  soft broad arches cruising through the effortless skies!

  The feathery monarch heard about Hanuman’s mission

  and recalled from aloft, ‘If it is Raavana you seek,

  you have come too far east. He was carrying a woman back to

  Lanka

  and that is direct south.

  My brain has divine powers and has sensed only this:

  Raavana holding Sita captive in the Asoka gardens.

  Now I must take my leave, I must return

  to lead my tribe
since there is no Jatayu.’

  Chapter Seven.one: Jawman

  The army considers how to reach Lanka.

  All you who would mock a fellow humanoid

  by jesting how they’re a monkey,

  I say it’s neither a fun-mock nor a wise-jest.

  Now watch me show you how cussing a fellow

  by calling them monkey

  is dread ironic!

  Listen to the true tale about wee Hanuman

  whose army despaired at the great ocean between them

  and Lanka. No flying monkey could make the perishing

  journey.

  Jambavan, the wise bear, whose army had recently

  hooked up with Hanuman, spoke thus,

  ‘Youthful when I was, I leapt 200 yojanas high

  and circumambulated

  about Vishnu’s triple-stride through the universe.

  Ancient as I am now, I can still leap up to 100 yojanas

  but my upper-leap is shot with age.

  One is here who can leap greater than I could ever.’

  Angada stepped in, ‘It falls to none other

  but I must attempt this leap.’

  Jambavan bowed before the warrior,

  saying,

  ‘Kings or a king-to-be, such as you are,

  send servants whose honour is served best

  by attending upon the duty. You are the darling and the boast,

  we serve to defend our hope that is enshrined in you

  and your king, King Sugreeva.

  Look not around Hanuman. Who is the one

  who alone can make the leap and live?

  You only