Ramayana Read online

  Rama pressed the Choodamani to his chest and wept,

  ‘Sita’s father gave it her on our wedding day

  and how it blazed in her hair.

  Just as we throw water on the face of one

  who is dying, splash words of Sita to revive me.’

  Hanuman spoke beautifully. Then warned,

  ‘I am glad to have seen Raavana –

  he is a terrifying warrior!

  Even if not for Raavana, we have a fight on our hands –

  Lanka will not be easy to reach or penetrate.’

  He recalled Lanka’s perfect four-fold protection

  of water, mountain, forest and fort

  as it sat on top of a mountain with a golden rampart

  studded on the inside with coral and tinted beryl

  but worst of all: no sailing routes for the army.

  ‘I smashed some drawbridges,

  filled up the serpent-and-shark-packed moats somewhat

  and razed some of the city

  but I fear all will be swiftly healed unless we can hurry.’

  No one said a word in return.

  Rama and his army walked south till they reached the ocean.

  They gawped at the measureless waters

  snapping with serpents

  that were buoyed by smelling such vivid meat.

  The ocean, underworlded with mountain ranges

  and vicious peaks.

  At night, Ocean’s violent snarling at the moon.

  Water was like sky and sky like water.

  How to separate the two in the blue-grey blur …

  Water idly crashing out sparks

  with a noise like drums on a battlefield.

  Rama felt useless before the wild

  till, after prolonged staring, he became so inflamed,

  he called at the ocean

  whilst preparing his mighty Brahmastra arrow,

  ‘If you refuse to clear a path

  I will drain your channels dry.

  If I pull this arrow you cannot save your teeming creatures.’

  The sky shuddered and the deep waters churned upwards.

  The waters stood up like a wall from the bed to the sky

  and faced the shore!

  The wind bounced back off the wall and blew back many a

  soldier.

  The ocean wall was the Ocean-God, Varuna, who spoke thus,

  ‘Rama,

  Air, Earth, Space, Fire and Light pursue the ancient laws as they were ordained. I too am beholden to Nature’s laws. How can I depart from my deep and wave-crammed ways? I would offend the creator if I ceased from my duty. Yet there is one amongst you who is cursed or blessed in that whatever he throws onto water will not sink but will float. He alone can subdue me. Only for him I can relent my waves, only for him can I relent the serpents herein for your safe passage to and fro

  Lanka.’

  With that, Ocean went back to its splashy violent charge.

  All looked around for the ONE.

  Came forward from the millions monkeys

  one from a remote south-eastern world, almost whispering,

  ‘Sorry please sirs, I am Nala.

  ’Tis most true I inherited a problem skill.

  I would throw stones as a child

  and bobbling on water they would stay

  not ever a one would ever sink.

  If my stones bobble perchance I may bobble a bridge?’

  Asked Sugreeva, ‘What is it you know

  about making bridges and whatnot?

  ‘But sir I am naturally boon’d with construction skills.

  My brain, my fingers and all my parts

  ’tis geared to such perfection.

  I am sorry I never before thought

  it worth a mention.

  And I never before been inquired after.’

  Nala bowed before Sugreeva and Rama.

  His chubby cheeks blushing at his own forwardness.

  Nala was soon advising a thousand monkeys

  to smash mountain peaks.

  Whilst some animals made stakes and lines and measuring

  rods,

  Nala lay each rock and stone he was passed

  upon the ocean.

  Over the rocks a roadbed of poles was placed.

  When they heard of the bridge-building,

  it’s said the red squirrel tribes wet their fur in the surf

  then rolled in the sand, then quickly ran onto Nala’s bridge

  and shook themselves – filling all the tiny spaces

  to make the bridge firm for the 100 yojanas to touchdown!

  The completed bridge was straight as a lady’s hair-parting.

  Nala returned to base and instructed,

  ‘Sirs, I am certain the ether is crammed with demons.

  One power is mine to secure us.

  Pleaseth you if we all formation as a dragon

  then in safety will we cross with weapons and all.’

  So it was the army organised themselves, with shady parasols,

  banners and wave upon wave of arrows, into dragon parts.

  Nala led troops at the dragon’s head,

  Sugreeva led those of the upper lip,

  Lakshmana those of the lower lip,

  Chompoopan led troops comprising the dragon’s crest,

  Komut and Soraram led those comprising the left and the

  right eye,

  Onkot commanded the body of the dragon,

  Jambavan led the two front legs,

  Tawipat led the hind legs,

  Kesorn commanded the tongue,

  several million monkeys became the scales, teeth and talons

  and Hanuman tipped the tail.

  Frustrated serpents gawped with their muzzled chops

  whilst a prandial heads-down dragon

  yomped as one

  on the bobbing causeway.

  Book Fifth: Attack of the Astras Mega-Fantastic to the Death!

  CHAPTER ONE : PANURAT DREAM GARDENS

  CHAPTER TWO: THE DOOSHMAN WITHIN

  CHAPTER THREE: HAALAAHAALAA!

  CHAPTER FOUR: ENTER THE VITAL INVISIBLE

  CHAPTER FIVE: FEEL MY SHAKTI, BOY

  CHAPTER SIX: PATRONISATION FOR COCKY SHOT

  CHAPTER SEVEN: WAKEY WAKEY DIN-DIN TIME!

  CHAPTER EIGHT: THE DREAM ARROW

  CHAPTER NINE: ATTACK OF THE ASTRAS MEGA-FANTASTIC TO THE DEATH!

  CHAPTER TEN: AMPLE HEAD OVER HEART LACKING

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: DUTY

  CHAPTER TWELVE: LET’S HAVE A CAK PARTY CALLING IT DIWALI!

  EPILOGUE: PRAYER

  Chapter One: Panurat Dream Gardens

  Rama and his army arrive in dreamy Lanka.

  Breaking out of the dragon in Lanka

  Rama and his army landed on a perfect lawn with broad

  exact paths. The trees suspended with showcase

  fruits that did not fall but stood there ripe, enticing.

  Heavenly Lanka with a calm polleny breeze

  where the army fed on fruit

  then dropped, on the shiny grass, asleep.

  Rama sensed a worrisome perfection

  and sent Hanuman to delve.

  Shrinking

  to a pip size

  he dived

  through

  and about

  the warm earth.

  Once in the deep, he heard a raggedy breathing,

  and as he pelted under the garden borders

  he noticed the whole park

  with its perfect trees and luscious grass

  was decked upon the back of a beast.

  A beast lying deep, deep under the park.

  A beast with tentacles spiralling between the roots in the soil.

  Unbeknown to Hanuman, it was the narrow-eyed

  serpent, Panurat. Panurat being another in the long line

  of monsters happy serving Raavana,

  happy to consume all unwanted visitors …

 
Panurat who was always happy to have a whole

  army upon his back

  before flipping over to crush it

  into his poison soups!

  Panurat heard Hanuman crammed-in in front of his face

  but before seeking to up-end the army

  and feast on his mortal feed

  he opened his mouth to swallow Hanuman.

  Hanuman dinkily obliged but flewwwwwwwwwwwwwww

  into Panurat’s spiky

  mouth

  so fast that he

  pierced out,

  in and out,

  of his brains

  thus killing that mute monster ever so quietly.

  Hanuman, soaked in Panurat’s poisonous brain slime,

  feared death

  but then remembered his own

  immortal state, that only he

  can choose the manner of his own dying.

  And dying in the heady slimes of a monster

  did not seem top of his Death Wish list.

  So he bathed in a lake

  and watched the paradise garden

  become sere and sink slowly back to sand

  beneath each shuteye army head.

  Chapter Two: The Dooshman Within

  Raavana’s brother seeks to join forces with Rama.

  What other dangers lurked in Lanka?

  No sooner were the army awake

  and away for the capital

  when

  coming their way – was that

  Raavana’s brother, Vibishana?

  Vibishana, it was,

  seeking alliance with Rama.

  Lakshmana was delighted,

  ‘He will be a useful tool in our hand

  to break open

  the citadel.’

  Many stared around at each other

  to gauge a response at this apparent defection.

  Sugreeva stared at Vibishana and said,

  ‘What is a dooshman, an enemy, if not this, yo?

  When a brother is ditching a brother,

  in the midst of muddied calamity, can we defend him?

  Who else might he back-stabbingly abandon

  so his means win?’

  Sugreeva’s nephew, Angada, looked up and said,

  ‘At least let’s watch his conduct closely, hey.’

  Said Jambavan, the bear king,

  ‘Villainy if he hides it

  what test will spy its crouching shadow?’

  This Vibishana loyalty issue caused a well-phrased debate.

  Then finally, Rama stared at all and opened his heart,

  ‘Who is not born of family? Whether it be the family

  of the mother and onward to the families

  of the inquiring imagining mind

  and the widest world

  where we earn our bread and our last breath …

  Who is not ever subject

  to all that lives? Would we ever desist hearing

  all that lives around us is eternally speaking, is calling us

  home?

  Is there a head of such a home, such a rooted family? Surely

  no man alone is mighty? And if there is mighty

  then there must be mightier and even mightier

  and onward goes the universal ascent.

  Should I ever seek to live on high and refuse a hand?

  Would it not be a turning away from my family?

  From the world? Even if I am defeated

  because I have been taken in

  by this man’s word

  I feel blissed

  to have lived justly.

  Could I reject whoever, however flawed,

  especially if he comes bravely before me, seeking a friend?

  I tell you, were Raavana seeking sanctuary

  I would forgive him everything

  so why would I shame his brother?

  This is the law of my life.

  Let us treat Vibishana as king-in-waiting.’

  Lakshmana, from his brother’s shade, walked forth,

  saying, ‘Is this a wonder?

  Truly Rama, you are the miracle.’

  Vibishana looked down at Rama’s feet

  as though they had lightened his burdens,

  ‘Believe me, my purpose was about

  seeking your grace and not Lanka’s kingdom.

  Lord Rama, if you are conferring it, before all

  I am accepting.’

  The leaders of the army consulted Vibishana

  and then refined their strategy.

  Once more, Rama spoke

  calmly again, ‘I implore all monkeys

  to desist from magic, from changing into human, snake, ogre

  or any other skin. I beg you, rage with the tide

  firming your own clean flesh.

  We are here to fight the good fight

  so long as it is just, so long as we are clean,

  so long as we wipe out the dooshman within ourselves,

  there is no shame in defeat.

  Only if we are true can we truly win.

  Look around the borders of Lanka, when order is lost

  chaos is come. Cows are giving birth to asses,

  mongooses are rearing rats, cats are mating with leopards

  and squabblesome mynah are flying into houses screaming

  But putting laughter aside, today when we fight

  it is not for Sita

  who lies captive behind those towers, gates and barbicans,

  nor is it you fight for me, nor is it for God.

  Comes the time when each heart must be emptied

  of desire, must be hungry for sacrifice.

  One who serves an ideal will find eternal reward.

  In sacrifice, in servitude,

  in inner silence and in doing

  we serve the ideal being,

  the ideal being that harbours in ourselves –

  somewhere in here

  – albeit lost yet lodged in.

  I say we fight for the spiritual battle raging in our souls.

  I say we fight ramifying our powers of virtue

  thus we become our own bowered path

  seeking the immortal lane.’

  Chapter Three: Haalaahaalaa!

  The battle begins.

  Sheer routes rose up to the palace.

  Rama and Lakshmana went to the northern gate

  for this was where Raavana was positioned.

  Hanuman went towards the western gate with the bears.

  Elsewhere went Sugreeva and the fiercest monkeys.

  Raksassy being nocturnal revellers

  they would struggle for a morning grapple

  so at the sun’s zenith, in the dry winds,

  Rama heralded showdown’s pageantry –

  the earth-shaking din of conches and drums.

  But then, Rama, being ever sober

  and ever the stickler for correct procedure,

  knew that prior to battle the enemy should be offered

  a final stab at peace.

  Sugreeva sent his own nephew, Angada,

  to Raavana’s palace. He flew there and was taken

  to the Great Hall where Raavana stood with his ministers.

  Angada had Bali’s, his dad’s, coiled anger.

  In other words, Angada got aggro!

  In other words, Angada cruising to be bruising!

  So perhaps his peace-offerings to Raavana

  lacked creamy cadence. In any case, the diplomacy

  was soon strained …

  Raavana, ‘… you serve a mere man.’

  Angada, ‘Rama a mere man? Then Love-God’s a mere archer,

  Ganga a threadbare stream, heaven’s nectar

  stinky juice, the great Garuda mere feathers —’ ‘Shutting it!

  I am a hero, boy!

  Kill this effrontery messenger.’

  Angada, although attacked by two raksassy,

  was tickled pink to be the first on show!

  He slun
g each raksassy under an arm

  then flew them scot-free upwards before freeing them

  to fall blood-and-guts

  slap on the marble slabs.

  First blood on the death-toll war board for Rama.

  On the palace borders the battlefield

  where rival now clearly heard rival

  and watched the dandy war-kit of garlands, leg-rings

  and jangling sparkler ornaments.

  Loudest were those chivvied by their preferred war-drink:

  poppy heads with thickened milk

  or infusion of mohua flowers

  or fermented porridge of rag known as londaa. Yaaah!

  Peace snuffed, each rival

  four-division army of infantry and cavalry

  came forth drawn by dogs, foxes, pigs, yalis,

  donkeys, buffaloes and overhead from all directions

  and encircling the world

  flocks of vultures.

  So many creatures partitioning the amorous gaze

  between the boyish sky

  and the girly green

  meadows of Lanka.

  The scene so black it could have made white-looking

  that deadliest poison, deadliest for it was a by-product

  churned by the gods, known as

  haalaahaalaa!

  The broad-field armies were catching at the fringes,

  at the thick and from overhead as they swarmed

  like the unvanquishable sway of Ocean-God,

  with their legs and wings bursting at the speed of Wind-God,