The first sign

With the death of Atikaya grief overtakes him. But we see a very important change taking place in him for the first time.

Unlike Kumbhakarna, Atikaya was not pushed into war. The handsome and very powerful second son of Ravana was unable to bear the loss of reputation that his father has been suffering and threw himself voluntarily into mending it. Atikaya wanted to avenge for the death of Kumbakarna and therefore he chose to fight with Lakshmana and kill him in order that Rama undergoes the same kind of sufferings that his father was undergoing, with the loss of his brother. (See: The Battle with Atikaya I and II)

The battle with Atikaya, though not an easy one, was very short in duration. Lakshmana brought him down. Sri VVS Aiyar captures the emotions of Ravana when the messengers from the battlefield came to him for conveying the message of death of Atikaya. Here is a snapshot that Sri Aiyar gives from Kamban.

“Similarly, when Atikaya’s death was announced to him, tears gushed forth from his eyes; he sobbed and stood like a sea agitated by the changing emotions – dashing one against another – of grief and shame and pity and indignation and heroic determination. Now he would look in the direction of the battlefield; now he would look at the Devas standing around, now he would think on the unbearable shame of his son’s defeat and death; now he would look at his sword that had earned for him so many triumphs; now he would wring his hands in despair. Now like a mad man he would in turns smile and weep, frown and crouch in shame. Now he would think of demolishing the vault of heaven, now he would think of lifting he earth; now he would think of destroying all life in one full swoop.”

The death of Kumbakarna brought him grief and no more. He was shocked and choked with unbearable agony. But we see him not even making an attempt to retrieve the mortal remains of Kumbakarna from the war front. The Poet shows us the scene in which Atikaya stands mourning over the headless trunk of Kumbakarna, in the battlefront. With the death of Atikaya, of course – and obviously – grief overtakes him. But we see a very important change taking place in him for the first time.

‘maNNinai edukka eNNum.’ He would think of lifting the earth. ‘vaaninai idikka eNNum.’ He would, the very next moment, think of assuaging his anger by demolishing the vault of heaven. ‘eNNiya uyirgaL ellaam oru kaNaththu etra eNNUm.’ He would the other moment set his mind on destroying all life form. ‘peN enum peyarai ellaam piLappen endru eNNum,’ says the Poet. He would think that he would destroy all that is feminine, all that is known as women.

Ravana’s very first loss is of a dear one started with Aksha, the youngest of his sons, killed by Hanuman in Sundara Kanda. Though grieved, the thought of his unreasonable, unnatural and illogical infatuation did not trouble him. His own defeat at the hands of Rama did not evoke such a feeling in him. Instead, that humility troubled him only because Sita would mock at him. ‘saanaki naguvaL endrE naaNaththaal saambugindraan,’ said the Poet. He was humbled by only one thought – that she would mock at him. His infatuation grew stronger instead. Hook or crook, he tried to win her over.

When the death message of Kumbakarna reached him, he was standing before Janaki, with the ‘Maya Janaka’ and even then his amoral infatuation did not trouble his conscience. Now, for the very first time, we find a trace of that thought. ‘pEdhai nasai idaik kaNdaan enna nagum.’ He would laugh at his foolish desire that made him covet the wife of another person. This is only a faint flicker of a flame. And it necessitated the life of Indrajit to fuel it.

And another sign

People would think of Ravana, till the day they think of Rama! Ravana would live forever and ever in the minds of people! What more do I desire!

As we have seen, the attitude of Indrajit towards Rama and Lakshmana changes completely from the first war to the third war with Lakshmana. With the sacrificial fire at Nikumbhila having been destroyed and with his end showing up completely, Indrajit stood up with determination to do his best for his father. The completion of the Yaga would have bestowed him with invincibility. The rites stipulated that he should not rise up until the completion of the Yaga. In case someone moved in war with him, succeeded in destroying the Yaga and made him move away from his seat during its performance, then it was a forewarning that that person would vanquish Indrajit.

But Indrajit, even at that critical point of time, was worried about the safety of his country, his race and more importantly of his father, rather than that of his own. He rushed back to his palace, vanishing from the battlefield, to warn Ravana of his realisation that it was Narayana who had come in the form of Rama and Lakshmana. (See: The last encounter and Lakshmana the Supreme II)

Though Ravana’s personal loss till that moment was exceedingly great, and though he had – like a flash in the oven – cursed himself for his desire for Sita for a fleeting moment, his heart was still not amenable to reason. ‘Do not allege me that I am afraid, father. ‘aasaidhaan ach cheedhai paal vidudhi.’ Give up the desire that you have for Sita and send her back. That would assuage their anger and they would go back. ‘un mEl kaadhalaal uraiththEn.’ I say all this out of my love for you.

How did Ravana respond! ‘Do not think that I counted on all of my men who fell a prey to the enemy. Do not imagine that I depend on the vast number of men that are still living in my army. ‘unnai nee avarai vendru tharudhi endru uNarndhum andraaal.’ Nor was it depending on your strength, with the hope that you would beat them in battle that I went into this venture. ‘ennayE nOkki yaan in nedum pagai thEdik koNdEn.’ It was solely dependant on my own personal power, valour and strength that I dared provoking this war. Therefore either you go and fight for me, or my child, tarry here and enjoy your rest. I would go now and establish a clean and easy victory over them in a trice.

Why would he not go back on his stance? It is not the desire for Sita alone now. Ravana has moved slightly away from that position. ‘There is no question of going back now,’ said Ravana. ‘Victory or defeat, life or death, I stand to gain either way.’ ‘vendrilen endra pOdhum,’ Even if it is that I do not win, ‘vEdham uLLaLavum yaanum nindruLen’ my name would be remembered as far as the Vedas exist, ‘av iraaman pEr nirkkum aayin,’ (if as you say he is an incarnation of Narayana and) if His name would remain as long as the Holy Books exist. People would think of Ravana, till the day they think of Rama! Ravana would live forever and ever in the minds of people! What more do I desire!

There is no question therefore of sending Sita back. ‘mIdhu ezhum mokkuL anna yaakayai viduvadhu allaal,’ If at all I have anything to give up, I would gladly give this body of mine up. For it is nothing different from the bubbles that form on the surface of water and burst in a wink. One has to die a death, after all! If as you say he is the great Narayana, let me wage a war once again with Him! ‘seethayai viduvadhu undO?’ Is there a question at all of giving up Sita, ‘irubadhu thiN thOL uNdaaga,’ endowed as I am with twenty mighty arms!

This is the second most important change in Ravana. It is apt to recall here the words of Ravana when Märicä advised him against his misadventure.

Adieu my father, adieu

Though he is pushing Indrajit into the bottomless pit from over the precipice, Ravana sounds a little more genuine now

‘It is better to die at the hands of Rama, pierced by his arrows,’ declared Ravana when Märicä tried to dissuade him from undertaking a sinful misadventure. His desire for Sita was just sprouting up at that time. ‘maara vEL kodhikkum ambaal pondralin, iraaman ambaal pondralE pugazh,’ he said. It is far, far better to be killed, if as you say that puny two-handed creature is so very strong and would kill me. Let me better be killed that way rather than being tortured by the fiery arrows of flower that cupid aims on me!

Compare this statement with his present declaration. I will not give up Sita. I would persist in fighting Rama. If I succeed, I attain what I desire. If I fail, I leave my name behind for thousands of years to come, for as along as his name remains. ‘pondrudhal oru kaalththum thavirumO?’ Can anyone dodge the jaws of death forever? ‘podhumaiththu andrO?’ is it not the inevitable and common end for all beings?

What these two phrases ultimately convey can be rewritten like this. ‘Though I am blessed with a lifetime of three and a half crore years, even that is another number. There is an end even to such a lifetime, though long be it.’ ‘indru uLaar naaLai maaLvaar.’ It is not unnatural for one who is live today to be dead and gone tomorrow. ‘pugazhukkum irudhi uNdO?’ But what lasts forever and ever is the name that you leave behind. I have an opportunity to leave my name behind and I won’t give up that easily.

For, if I give up now, what respect can I expect from celestials and others? Would they not mock at me that Ravana the Great, Ravana the terror of the universe ultimately went on his knees before a mere man! ‘vitanen seethai thannai endralum,’ On hearing that I have sent Sita back, ‘viNNOr naNNi,’ the celestials would (shed all their fears for me and would) rush forward ‘kattuvadhu allaal,’ and would bind me down (make me their slave) ‘ennai yaan enak karudhuvaarO?’ Do you think they would still hold me as the Ravana that I am?

Next comes the deep underlying heart of Ravana, bearing his original quality of a true warrior. ‘pattanan endra pOdhum,’ Even if I have to die, ‘eLimayin padugilEn yaan’ I would not fall that easily. Remember. I have established my victory over all the eight directions.

Though he is pushing Indrajit into the bottomless pit from over the precipice, though this sounds like another attempt at the ‘mock challenge’ that he adopted with Kumbakarna, Ravana sounds a little more genuine now. ‘You go back and take rest my child,’ he tells Indrajit. ‘solli en palavum,’ What is the use of empty proclamations? ‘nee nin irukkayaith thodarndhu,’ go now to your palace. ‘pulliya pagazhi vaangi,’ pull out all the arrows that are stuck all over your body. ‘pOrth thozhil siramam pOkki,’ Take complete rest and be rejuvenated of the travails you underwent in the war front ‘elliyum kazhiththi’ rest for the night. 8The night has fallen. It is time for you to sleep. Let me go there. I won’t tarry even a minute and allow time to go waste. Prepare my chariot!’ he ordered.

Indrajit, the lad who had immense love and respect for his father, was left with no other alternative but to push himself into action. He could not bear the thought of allowing his father to move into the battle when he was still alive. He moves the reader to tears when he says adieu to this father with the words: ‘ozhindhu aruL sItram.’ Let your anger subside. ‘sonna urudhiyaip poruththi.’ Please bear with me for telling you what is right to do. ‘yaan pOik kazhindha pin,’ I will go and (let it be understood clearly that I will) die. ‘nallavaak kaaNdi.’ Let good sense prevail at least after my death.

We see a completely different Ravana on the death of Indrajit. It cannot however be said that all his scheming had died with Indrajit. The last vestiges of that quality remained for one more day.

A father in grief

He found an arm of Indrajit that was lying on the ground, firmly holding the bow. It was lying on the ground like a black cobra…

Immense was Ravana’s grief when the messengers brought the death news of Indrajit. He quickly, without another thought, drew his sword and beheaded them all and fell down he next moment as if hit by thunderbolt. Those who were standing by his side rushed away from his sight, hit by terror of an extreme kind. ‘What would he do, how would he react,’ was the sole question running in the minds of all of them.

As we have seen earlier, Ravana was down with shame and of course grief, when Aksha fell. The death of Kumbakarna brought unbearable agony to him. The death of his other son, Atikaya shook him to his very roots that he, for the very first time, mocked at his own self for the kind of lust he had developed for Sita. But the death of Indrajit, the son whom he loved most, the son on whom he had pinned all hopes, the son who was the very sheet anchor of all his victories, put an end to all his lust and all his unjustified desire.

He fell down from his throne, on the ground, boiling like ‘vidam pirandha kadal,’ like the sea when it was churned for amrita and it spewed the most dreaded of venom from its bowels. He could not believe that such a thing could happen. ‘maindhavO ennum,’ ‘O my son!’ he would wail. ‘ma maganE ennum,’ ‘O my great son!’ he would scream. ‘endhayO ennum; en uyirE ennum.’ ‘O Indrajit! My father, the very source of my life!’ he would weep. ‘undhinEn unai naan.’ It was I who pushed you into this my dear son; it was I. ‘naan uLanE ennum.’ And I live here on this earth after giving you unto the hands of death. Why is that I still live!

It is a very long lament that Ravana lets out. Kamban presents it dramatically with each of the ten heads of Ravana letting out a different wail, one after the other, showing the deep feelings of a very loving father for his very valiant son. For the very first time in the entire epic, we see Ravana going to the field in search of the mortal remains of his son. It has to be remembered that never once in the epic did he even send servants to fetch the mortal remains of others, though they were closest and dearest to him.

The remains of Kumbakarna are seen by Atikaya; the mortal remains of Atikaya are seen by Indrajit in the battlefield, which evidence the fact that they remained on the battlefield until the very last day for Vibishana to perform the last rites. But it is not so in the case of Indrajit. Ravana himself goes to the scene of war, moving large number of dead bodies of his warriors, their animals, severed limbs and broken chariots. The picture is extremely pathetic.

He found an arm of Indrajit that was lying on the ground, firmly holding the bow. It was lying on the ground like a black cobra, holding the great rainbow in its mouth, says the Poet. A long and strong piece of arm black in complexion, severed from shoulder, with the arrow case attached to it, shining with golden armlets lying on the ground, which did not lose its grip on the bow even at that stage. Ravana took it up tenderly. Imagine the feelings of a father now for his valiant son. He placed the arm on his heads. With tear running down his cheeks in unending torrents, he looked for the body of his endeared son. And there it was lying at another end of the battlefield, severed of its head. Lakshmana had taken the head away that evening, as souvenir of his victory.

‘kai kaNdaan.’ Ravana saw the hand of his son (lying like a mighty wave). ‘karum kadal kaNdena mey kaNdaan.’ And then he found the body of his son that was lying like the vast black sea.

Who cannot but shed tears at this character now, despite all that he had wreaked, all his misdeeds notwithstanding and all his illegitimate and cruel deeds not denying? His words of grief would move even the most hardhearted person.

The rites you should have performed…

‘These are rites that you should have performed to my dead body my child! Look at what has befallen me!’ lamented Ravana…

Which father could bear the sight of the headless trunk of his son, severed of a hand lying on the ground? It was the shock of his life for Ravana. This was the same Ravana who in a fit of rage killed his own brother-in-law, Vidyujjihva, husband of Surpanakha, in war, without realising what he was doing. It is not that he did not lament the death of his other sons and Kumbakarna. He did. If he went through grief and misery and even shame when they shed their lives for him, it was the pinnacle of those feelings that he suffered at the sight of his son’s armless trunk.

Hours back, this son had come back to advise him to realise the gravity of the situation, to stop the war; to restore Sita and to conclude peace with Rama. He did not listen. He mocked at his son. He acted in such a way that slighted the pride of Indrajit and made him stoically to walk towards his death, warning his father – ‘kazhindhanEn endra pinnar nallavaak kaaNdi’ – to see things as they are, and d the right thing at least after his death.

Having pushed Indrajit into this task – against his will that had taken a ‘U’ turn towards the end – the onus now lies on Ravana for his death.

He would tenderly take the body and place it on his laps. ‘appu maari azhuthiya maarbai,’ On the chest that bore a shower of arrows, ‘than appu maari azhudhu izhi yaakkayin appum’ would he shed a shower of tears as to immerse it ‘maarbil aNaikkum’ would embrace it to his chest. ‘aratrumaal.’ Would wail loudly. ‘ap pumaan utradhu yaavar utraar arO?’ Who had suffered such an agony that would equal the pain that he went through?

He would pluck the arrows from the body one by one. He would break them to pieces out of anger. In the same manner as people expending their emotions and energy, pointlessly punching on tables and walls, he would think of crunching the sun, the moon and the universe between his teeth. Immeasurable was his anguish due especially to the fact that he could not locate the head of his son anywhere in the scene of action. Ravana, the great Ravana, the matchless ogre who could pluck Mount Kailash from its roots, the person who could establish a clean victory over the elephants guarding the directions, the ogre who ruled gloriously over the Universe and wreaking terror all around, was lamenting over the headless trunk of his dear
son, his eldest son, helplessly on the field.

‘I saw the city of Indra set on fire. I ruled over the Universe. And it has been given to me to witness the headless frame of my dear son,’ he laments. Recollect here what Sita told him the other day when he tormented her with ‘Maya Janaka.’ ‘sumithirai eendra nan magan vaaLi nakka, naai avan udalai nakka,’ The arrows of Lakshmana are going to lick clean the life of your son Indrajit and his dead body would be licked by dogs. Ravana’s lament echoes those words now. ‘I have seen the most glorious of times in my days. ‘en madhalai yaakkai nari uNak kaNdEn.’ Now I witness the scene of my son’s body being feasted upon by foxes.

He makes the most moving statement. “Really speaking, obsequies in my honour ought to have been performed by you when I would have departed to the abode of Death, O hero!” (Valmiki Ramayana, Yuddha Kanda, Canto XCII, Sloka 13).

‘enakku nee seyyath thakka kadan elaam Engi Engi unakku naan seyvadhaanEn.’ These are rites that you should have performed to my dead body my child! Look at what has befallen me! I am that unfortunate father who has to I perform the very same rites to his son, my darling.

Poison made of nectar

Sita reads his intentions from his very gait, from his very visage, from the manner in which he is holding his sword. We see her in a different mood now.

That was the last straw that broke the camel’s back. Only, it was not a straw that hit Ravana here. It was harder than the thunderbolt. Unable to locate the head of Indrajit in the field of blood, Ravana returned to his palace with the trunk of his endeared son, sending waves of shock, lament and wails all around. Mandodari, the mother of Indrajit, falls on his frame. It has to be remembered that Mandodari is ranked very high and is one of the five most respected and venerable women – Ahalya, Draupadi, Tara, Sita and Mandodari. She is shaken to the very roots at the gory sight of his son’s body, falls on it and at the end of her lament she expresses her fears. Her fear of what would befall, what is in store.

‘panju eri utradhu enna,’ Like (bundles and bundles of) cotton wool consumed by a tiny speck of fire, ‘arakkar tham paravai ellaam,’ all the vast oceans of (multitudes of) Rakshasas have ‘vem sina manidhar kolla viLindhadhE,’ been obliterated by the anger of a man. ‘mINdadhu illai.’ Not a single one of them returned. ‘anjinEn, anjinEn.’ O! I am scared, I am scared now! ‘ach cheedhai ennum amudhinaal seidha nanjinaal,’ On account of Sita, the poison made of nectar, ‘ilangai vEndhan naaLai ith thagayan andrO,’ would not the king of Lanka be lying this-wise tomorrow!

I have lost the most valiant son, my only son now. I even now envisage the scene of my husband lying like this tomorrow. It’s all due to Sita, who is made of nectar, but who is actually a poison (for anyone but her husband). What Mandodari meant was ‘Ravana would be lying dead because of his desire for Sita.’ But those words evoked a totally different response from Ravana. ‘She is the source of all my trouble,’ he concluded.

“Deeply pondering with his mind, the cruel Ravana, who was tormented by the death of his (eldest) son (Indrajit) and overpowered by anger, resolved to kill Sita.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Yuddha Kanda, Canto XCII, Sloka 34). ‘van thazhaik kallin nenjin vanjagathaaLai vaaLaal kondru izhaithiduvEn,’ I will kill that woman of pitiless heart, whose mind is as hard as a stone, who is full of deceit, with my sword. So saying, he rushed to the Asoka Vana with his sword unsheathed and held high in hand.

There were other occasions earlier, which we have seen in detail, when Ravana stepped forward as if to kill, unsheathed the sword and even held it high. But that had never frightened her. ‘ennnayum kollaai.’ You would kill neither me. ‘innum unnayum kollaai.’ ‘Nor would you be able to kill yourself’, she had scoffed. (See: Maya Janaka IV). She knew that Ravana would not be able to kill her, at least for the period of one year that he had laid down for her. But the situation was not the same now. Ravana was extremely serious about his action. His fury had taken an entirely different shape now. He was merely threatening in the earlier instances. But he is determined to kill her now.

Sita reads his intentions from his very gait, from his very visage, from the manner in which he is holding his sword. We see her in a different mood now.

“Possessed with sorrow and (therefore) wailing, Sita spoke as follows – ‘From the way in which this fellow himself is rushing headlong towards me in fury, I fear the evil-minded ogre is going to kill me as if I were protectorless even though I have a protector (in my husband) … … Alas! That (sage) counsel of Hanuman was not followed by me, vile that I am. Had I left at that time, mounted on his back, tough not won back (by my husband), I would not have grieved as I am doing today, as I should be resting (in that case) in the lap of my husband.” (Ibid, Sloka 48, 55, 56)

That Ravana was bent upon killing her is evident from the words of alarm of Sita.

A catastrophe averted

The gravity of the situation is really striking. It is really serious, seen especially in the context of Sita’s fright at the sight of Ravana rushing to her with sword in hand. But it was Mahodara, (Suparsava according to Valmiki Ramayana) who came to the rescue of Sita this time. ‘No my dear king,’ he intercepted Ravana, ‘this does not befit you. It is not right to kill a woman, who is innocent, who has not wronged you in any manner, who is protectorless. This sword of yours was used against mighty celestials; Yaksas and others invincible might. Do you propose to use it against a helpless woman? Is this what Ravana is famed for?’
All said and done, it has to be admitted that Ravana had an ear for his ‘esteem’, his ‘fame’ and ‘acceptance by the world in general’. Strangely, these did not deter him from his passion for Sita. It is yet another story. What fuelled his passion for Sita was not her beauty alone. He was not able to digest the fact that someone could reject him downright. He was not used to this kind of a response from the fair sex, excepting of course on a few occasions that we have described earlier like the Vedavathi incident etc.
If we recall, it was with a similar kind of argument that Vibishana could minimise the ‘punishment’ that he contemplated for Hanuman. Somehow, Mahodara was not for this dastardly act of attempting to kill a woman in prison. But if Sita was frightened, it should be remembered it was only momentary. She was not afraid of death. It was the imposing figure of Ravana with sword in hand, with a really serious intent, which pushed her off-balance for a time. We will discuss this later, when we take up Sita.
Mahodara knows how to present his idea to his king. He does not stop with the warning that he sounds against the act of Ravana. He once again tempts Ravana. ‘The chances of success against the war with Rama cannot be denied,’ he says. ‘indru nI ivaLai vaaLaal eRindhanai.’ Agreed. You kill her now. You sever her with your sword today. ‘iraman thannai vendru mINdu ilangai mUdhUr eydhinai,’ Supposing in your war with Rama, you vanquish him, emerge victorious, and get back to Lanka, what would you do then? ‘vedhumbuvaayO?’ Would you brood over what you did now? Would you lament for having killed her a minute too early? And if you kill her, let us think of what effect it would have on the enemy camp.
‘pondrinaL seethai indrE.’ Let us assume that she dies now. ‘puravala,’ my King, ‘pudhalvan thannaik kondravar thammaik kollak kUsinai’ it will only be seen as your fear for the enemy. If she dies here, the very purpose of their campaign is lost and they would return to their place. You will lose a golden opportunity to avenge for the death of your son. You have to take revenge for the killing of Indrajit, remember that. If they go back, would it not deny you the last chance to assuage your anger for the killing of your kith and kin? Desist, therefore from this act. Concentrate your attention and efforts on the war and the killing of enemies, instead, said Mahodara.
Good sense prevailed and Ravana ordered that the body of Indrajit be embalmed and preserved till he is back from his war with Rama. ‘There is no going back on my efforts to kill them,’ he vowed, ‘until their heads, who took away the head of my son as memento, roll on the ground.
But if Ravana desisted from killing Sita that day, it was still due to the last remnants of lust for her that remained in his heart. His penchant for scheming and lying had not left him completely as yet.

Summoning the Core Army

You go and kill him, just that one person. If you are not able to kill him, I will do so. I will kill him, after you maim him with your arrows!

We now see Ravana standing alone, with all his trusted deputies dispatched to the other world, having to face the Rama in the theatres of war. He makes one last attempt and sends word for all the Rakshasas forces that are stationed all over the globe and collects them in his place. This force, known as his ‘mUla bala sainya’ or the core army was the base of all his power, consisting of warriors the very best and handpicked commandos, equalling the stature of Kumbakarna. Several millions of Kumbakarna and Indrajit walking the earth, that is to say.

Kamban describes their appearance very vividly. Of course the scene offers all the scope for his eye for details and vivid imagination to envision an overwhelming picture of multitudes of ogres of various shapes and sizes marching to Lanka. Once they assemble, Ravana invites the Chiefs for an appraisal of the situation. Since they live in far off lands, they are not aware of what has actually happened. ‘Was it for killing monkeys and men that you summoned us!’ laughed the chiefs. ‘enna,’ (As Ravana) explained them (the purpose for which they were summoned), ‘kai erindhu,’ they clapped their hands in mock appreciation ‘urum ena nakku,’ and laughed like thunder. ‘minnum vaaL eyitru arakkarai am kaiyaal vilakki,’ Signalling them not to laugh and remain calm, ‘vanni enbaan’ a Chief known as Vanni, ‘putkarath thIvu mannan,’ who was ruling the island of Pushkara, ‘annadhu Or narar valiyar? endre araindhaan’ asked, ‘is that so? Are these men (and monkeys) so very strong?’

What can be more humiliating for a leader, who ruled the worlds by sheer muscle power, and who had built a very large army of the ‘best of all ogres’ who respected him only for his might (or what else was there in Ravana that they could respect him!) to be laughed at for having called them to accomplish a task, the performance of which would be a slur on their dignity. Using a sledgehammer to kill a fly on the glass-window! Malyavan, the grandfather of Ravana intervenes and explains how even Kumbakarna and Indrajit were wiped out from the face of the earth.

We now see Ravana hiding the fact that he was defeated in the day of the first war at the hands of Rama. He is questioned by Vanni. ‘nI ivar elaam madiya,’ When so many of our men, including your brother and sons, have died ‘enna kaaraNam igal seyyaadhu irundhadh?’ what held you back? Why did you not go in war with them? What stopped you? ‘punmai nOkkinEn,’ replies Ravana. I did not fight because I was ashamed to fight with men. How do you expect me to fight puny creatures! Does it befit my stature? Who would take pride in fighting with babies born only the other day! ‘naaNinaal porudhilEn’ I did not fight because I was ashamed.

‘Now my men,’ Ravana addressed them, ‘do me a favour. All of you go and kill just the two of them. I need your support for maiming at least one of them. Rama.’ “Surrounded by the entire army of elephants and horses, nay, graced with columns of chariots and foot soldiers, march you all. (Nay) encompassing Rama, the leader (of the enemies) you ought to kill him in combat, discharging hails of arrows (even) as clouds pour showers during the monsoon. Or I shall (easily) dispatch him tomorrow, while the world stands looking on, once his limbs have been torn by you, with your sharp arrows in a major conflict.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Yuddha Kanda, Canto XCIII, Sloka 2 and 3)

You go and kill him, just that one person. If you are not able to kill him, I will do so. I will kill him, after you maim him with your arrows!

Is this the Ravana that we have seen till this day!

Too late to…

But it is not that the Chiefs of the Core Army were dull-headed dummies. ‘You should have sent Sita back,’ says Vanni, the Chief of all of them…

The first experience is still in his mind. The first defeat still haunts him. But he is not able express it. When he woke Kumbakarna up as soon as he returned from the battlefield hanging his head down in shame, we saw him cleverly leaving out the information that he went to the war and was defeated. Now, when the massive core army has been collected, he still wants to keep a foot away from Rama and Lakshmana. He wants his core army to deal with them. And he makes his plan sound grand. Very grand indeed!

‘vaanarap perum sEnayai,’ Of the large army of monkeys, ‘yaan oru vazhi sendru,’ I shall take care, fight with all of them ‘Un arak kuraithu,’ sever them limb by limb ‘uyir uNben’ and devour their lives. ‘nIvir pOi orungE,’ You all collect together ‘aana matru iruvaraik kOrIr’ and fight with just these two.

Very clever indeed. ‘Let me go and bear the brunt of facing the vast army of powerful monkeys and wipe them clean, all by myself. You, with all the countless millions of your soldiers, go and fight just the two of them. I need only this favour from you.’ Place this side by side with what Valmiki’s Ravana says. “Or I shall (easily) dispatch him tomorrow, while the world stands looking on, once his limbs have been torn by you, with your sharp arrows in a major conflict.”

But it is not that the Chiefs of the Core Army were dull-headed dummies. ‘You should have sent Sita back,’ says Vanni, the Chief of all of them. ‘mUdhu uNarandha im mudhu magan’ (We heard) this elderly person (Malyavan) who has all the information of the past (whose knowledge and experience is rich) ‘kUriya muyarchi’ as advised by him, ‘seedhai enbavaL thannai vittu,’ returning the woman by name Sita, ‘am manidharaich chErdhal’ and live in peace with those humans ‘aadhiyin thalai seyath thakkadhu,’ but this should have been done in the very initial stages. ‘inich cheyal.’ If we do it now at this stage, ‘kaadhal indhirasithayum maayviththal kaNdum’ even after the death of Indrajit, ‘azhivaal’ would be harmful (to our reputation).

‘You should have listened to the wise words of this grand old man, given that woman back and established good relations with those men. But this should have been done at the very early stages. Now it is too late. We have lost so many lives. We have lost precious lives of Kumbakarna and even Indrajit. If we attempt to make peace with them at this stage, it would then make a mockery of the persons who shed their lives, fighting for your cause. And therefore, we are left with only one choice, that of continuing the battle.

I am narrating this only to show that even the chief of the core army, the very last of resources that he counted on, was not in favour of his misadventure; was not in favour of a war with Sri Rama but agreed to do so merely because it was too late and they were left with no choice.

Ravana is stripped bare of all his dear ones, all his friends, all his reliable soldiers. The mUla bala sainya is marching into the field of action, striking terror all around. The monkey chiefs were so terrified, that we saw them running away from the battlefield, in our earlier discussions. (See: Loyalty turning into hostility). Angada collected them with great difficulty. If Ravana said that he would ‘vanquish all the Vanara host all by himself,’ he did not mean it literally. What he meant was that he, assisted by a vast contingent of his army, would do so. But Rama decided, decided in split-second, that he would handle the situation all by himself, fighting all the millions of ogres single-handedly, alone and unassisted.

Delighted a minute too soon

Ravana threw a grand party on his return, with the firm belief that he has succeeded at last. But it was his last day of happiness. He did not have much time afterwards.

That Rama, whose trusted Chiefs – excepting a handful of them – who were terror-stricken and ran away from the battlefield was left with the burden of instilling confidence in his side and decided to take on the vast multitudes of ogres alone, all by himself is a matter of discussion for another day. ‘It is not that I depend on you for carrying out this task,’ he tells Sugriva in another place. ‘I can handle it all by myself.’ True to his words, he undertook the mission, ordering Lakshmana and Hanuman to guard the Vanara army in his absence.

His movements and his arrows were so swift that ‘He appeared in all corners of the battlefield at the same time,’ says Valmiki. Remember. On this occasion even the ‘siriya thiruvadi’ Hanuman is not with him and he treads the earth unassisted. If not anything else, even if it is not elaborated, this Sloka from Valmiki is worth mentioning here. “Those night-stalkers were able to perceive on the battlefield the mot terrible deeds of Sri Rama, which were difficult to perform for others, only when they had actually been performed by him (and not while they were being performed, his movement being quick as lightning). They could not actually behold Sri Rama while he was dispersing the huge army (of the ogres) and destroying great car-warriors, any more than one could see a blast blowing in a forest. (His presence could be detected only by his deeds.)” (Valmiki Ramayana, Yuddha Kanda, Canto XCIII, Sloka 20 and 21)

They could not see him. But the results of his actions could be seen and confirmed his presence everywhere, at the same time! This beautiful, inspiring and enthralling scene deserves to be studied later, more appropriately when we study Rama.

While Rama was engaged in a fierce battle with the mUla bala sainya, Ravana sneaked in from the other side. ‘Appear where you are least expected,’ says Sun Tzu, in his Art of War. If one studies the strategies of Ravana, it can be seen that his techniques go very well with the strategies that Sun Tzu details. But this was an enemy who clearly foresees all kinds of moves now! Rama had put Lakshmana aided by Hanuman with the specific instruction that they should be on guard against the surprise attack of Ravana!

That led to a fierce combat between Lakshmana and Ravana. This battle was described in detail in our study of Lakshmana. Ravana was enraged by Vibishana who was acting as the resource person for Lakshmana and countering his divine missiles. He, in a fit of rage, hurled his lance, Shakthi, an unfailing missile on Vibishana. Lakshmana offered himself gladly, in order to protect Vibishana. (See: The attempt on Vibishana, Remarkable hero and A solider to the core) Ravana was overjoyed that his Shakthi, aimed at Vibishana, struck Lakshmana instead, without his having to make any attempt on the offensive against that impregnable hero. He returned to his palace that day, happy and contented for the last time of having eliminated Lakshmana, in the full knowledge that Sri Rama would not be able to stand the bereavement of his brother and would either go back or give his life up.

He threw a grand party on his return, with the firm belief that he has succeeded at last. But it was his last day of happiness. He did not have much time afterwards. He had to come back to the field very soon to face the person who he was avoiding all these days. Here emerges the real Ravana. The warrior that he was.

There is no hurry

It is a complete change of attitude that we see in Ravana when he starts for the war, now. It is no more a struggle for Sita. Here is a challenge to his honour.

It is a complete change of attitude that we see in Ravana when he starts for the war, now. It is no more a struggle for Sita. Here is a challenge to his honour. Here is a human being who is turning his unbeatable army, into dust effortlessly, and totally unaided and unassisted. Grief-stricken, shocked and surprised, anybody else would have crumbled down that day.

He collected all that remained of his army. He took all the remaining divine weapons that he had earned because of his past austerities; donated riches to the needy and prepared himself for the last struggle. A battle unto death.

‘Isanai, imaiaya mukkaN oruvanai,’ To the Lord, the Lord with the unwinking third eye, ‘irumaikku Etra pUsanai murayin seydhu,’ he offered such worship that would bestow that which is needed in this world and in the other, ‘thiru marai pugandra dhaanam vIsinaan,’ and donated liberally as laid down in the scriptures. ‘matru vEttana vEttaarkku ellaam aasu ara nalgi,’ and gave away whatever was wanted to whoever that wanted them, ‘pOrth thozhirkku amaivadhu aanaan’ he set his mind on the battle and started off.

His heart was set more on the victory in the war. More on retaining his honour. More on fighting to the end to establish his waning glory. Sita is immaterial now. It is an ‘either win or die’ situation for him now. ‘mandral am kuzhal sanaki,’ he declares, ‘than malark kaiyaan vayiru kondru, alandhalaik kodu nedum thuyaridaik kuLiththal,’ It is either that Janaki whose thick tresses are decorated by flowers, is immersed in misery and sorrow, beat her belly with her slender arms because of the bereavement of her husband. ‘andru idhu ennidin,’ Or if this does not happen, if this is not possible, ‘mayan magaL ath thozhil urudhal’ the daughter of Mayan be pushed into such a state.

Only one of us would remain at the end of this day’s battle. It would be either Sita or Mandodari who mourns over her husband. As we have been mentioning, this was the state of mind that Rama was waiting for. This was what he wanted Ravana to be, before the last test of strength. It was not mere killing that he intended. If it was so, he could have killed him right on the day of the first war when Ravana had lost all his army and was standing on the ground, stripped of his shield and all his weapons.

The mind of Rama is seen in another verse when Indra sends him his chariot for the battle. ‘Listen to me,’ he tells Matali, the charioteer of Indra who had come to assist him. ‘maatali vadhanm nOkki,’ He looked at Matali ‘mannar tham mannar maindhan,’ and that son of the Emperor (told him) ‘kaadhalaal karumam ondru kEttiyaal.’ Listen to what I intend, for the love of me. ‘kaLiththa sindhai Edhalan,’ Let Ravana whose heart is bubbling with joy (because of his successes in the war that is about to ensue) ‘migudhi ellaam iyatri,’ do whatever he wants. Let him go berserk. Let him have his
way. Be patient. ‘pindrai,’ after that, ‘en sOdhanai nOkki cheidhi,’ understand what I intend and act accordingly. ‘thudippu ilai.’ There is no hurry.

Let him have his way today. Let him get the feeling that he is moving towards his victory. Do not get confused by all this. Let him complete his deeds and then look at me for my signal. See what I am going to do. There is absolutely no hurry.

The Trident of Shiva

Rama did nothing to resist the trident that was advancing menacingly. It flew to him with the only intention to kill, with the large bells attached to it sounding loudly…

Very few epics can match the detailed description of the war scene so very vividly presented by Valmiki or Kamban. The Poets give intricate details of the battle between Rama and Ravana tirelessly. They deserve our attention not because of the curious details of the divine and the plain weapons and the strategies that were adopted alone, but also because it is in these scenes that the qualities of both Rama and Ravana are seen in a better and brighter light.

Kamban brings out the divinity of Rama in the war scenes. If Ravana blew his conch and sent waves of terror and trepidation all around, it was Panchajanya that resonated itself in the conch of Indra that Matali the charioteer blew. ‘sonna sanginadhu Osai thuLakkura enna sanu ena imayavar Engura,’ Ravana sounded his conch and struck terror in the hearts of celestials, leaving them perplexed. ‘anna sanginaip poraamayinaal,’ since it could not bear what the sound of Ravana’s conch was causing all around, ‘ari thanna sangu thaanum muzhangitraal’ the Panchajanya issued its clarion call by itself, that mixed with the resonance of the conch of Indra.

Rama parried and destroyed al the arrows that Ravana aimed at him. He allowed him to play all the tricks that he was capable of. If the chariot of Ravana roe to the skies, Matali would manoeuvre Indra’s chariot on which Rama was seated into the sky as well. Ravana expended all his tricks, put all the experience that he had gained in his unparalleled wars over the thousands of years of his existence into his war, a war that he had decided to wage to the last.

Resorting to his divine astras, Ravana aimed the Maya astra and created the illusion of all dead ogre warriors including Indrajit, Kumbakarna, Atikaya et al returning to the battlefield and it appeared as though those illusory forms advanced towards the terror stricken Vanara host. Rama parried the Maya astra with the gnana astra. It is more appropriate to study these scenes in detail when we study Rama. We will limit ourselves only to the most important highlights.

In the long drawn out but methodical warfare, Ravana finally decided to use the trident of Lord Shiva that he had acquired from him. Sri V V S Aiyar brings out the scene beautifully in these words:

“The triple lance of Shiva was then hurled by Ravana which came flaming through the air, spreading a weird light over all things and terrifying the gods. The arrows that Rama aimed against it, all fell powerless to hurl it, and it came on and nearer and nearer Rama. When even divine weapons could not prevail against it, Rama stood motionless. The Devas trembled to see Rama standing inactive, a target to the terrible weapon of Shiva hurled by the foe. Dharma itself was terror struck.”

Rama did nothing to resist the trident that was advancing menacingly. He allowed it to reach all the way to him. ‘sangaaraththaan kaNdai olippa thazhal sindha,’ It flew to him with the only intention to kill, with the large bells attached to it sounding loudly and spewing fire, ‘pongu aaraththaan maarbu edhir Odip pugalOdum,’ and advanced to the flower bedecked chest of Rama, ‘vengaaraththaan mutrum munindhaan,’ Rama (who was inactive till that point of time) showed all his anger ‘veguLip pEr ungaaraththal ukkadhu pal nUru udhir aagi’ and the trident broke into hundreds of pieces when Rama stopped it with a loud and angry ‘hoom’. That is, he sounded like an angry parent who stops his mischievous child to silence it. ‘Hoom’ he shouted and the Trident of Shiva broke into fragments.

The feelings of Ravana now were no different from that of Indrajit who saw his Narayana astra, aimed at Lakshmana, returning to him without harming Lakshmana and after paying its obeisance to him by circumambulation. ‘This person,’ realised
Ravana, ‘is the Supreme of the Three.’

Supreme of the Three

This realisation was too late for him to retrace his steps. Had he done so at this stage, he would have gone down as the last and lowliest of all cowards that existed on earth.

‘Who could he be!’ was the first thought that ran in his shocked and dazed mind. For the first time Ravana realised that he is facing a foe of formidable nature. ‘If he can turn the trident of Shiva that I hurled at him to pieces merely by raising his angry voice, he is something to be reckoned with,’ he thought. ‘ungaarathidai ukku Odudhal kaaNa nindran,’ seeing the trident falling to pieces by a mere sound of anger, ‘an naaL vIdaNanaar sol ninaivutraan’ the words of Vibishana started ringing in his mind.

Though Kamban limits it to the words of Vibishana, he should have actually meant all the words of wise counsel, of Mälyavän, Kumbakarna and his own endeared son Indrajit. ‘Let all be well at least after my death,’ said Kumbakarna. Indrajit repeated the very same words, when he, like Kumbakarna, was left with no option but to pursue the course of battle. His mind runs wild at that moment. He is perplexed over the real identity of this person who stands before him.

‘sivanO allaan.’ No. He is not Shiva. ‘naan mugan allan.’ I know for sure that he is not Brahma, the four-headed Lord either. ‘thirumaalaam avanO allan.’ Or could he be Vishnu? I do not think so. ‘thavanO ennin,’ Or if I am to deduce him to be one among great sages (if he is not one of the Three) ‘seydhu mudikkum tharan allan,’ no a sage cannot fight like this. ‘ivanO dhaan av vEdha mudhal kaaraNan endraan.’ He must verily be none other than the Supreme One whom the Vedas point to, who is the very reason for the existence of the Vedas, and One who is sought after by the Vedas.

This realisation was too late for him to retrace his steps. Had he done so at this stage, he would have gone down as the last and lowliest of all cowards that existed on earth. He had pushed others into this mission, on his behalf. This mission had only him and his desire at the centre and nothing more than that. As we have discussed already there was no other purpose, noble or otherwise, for all others to shed their dear lives. It was not a common cause they were fighting for; nor was it against the aggression of an abominable enemy they were resisting. The war was fought for only one reason. Ravana’s desire for Sita and his inability to accept the vile nature of his act, despite being reminded of whom he is defying and whom he is denying.

‘naasam vandhu utra pOdhum nalladhu Or pagayaip petrEn,’ he had told Mälyavän, recounting his defeat at the hands of Rama, earlier. ‘I have an enemy worth the name even at the face of destruction.’ ‘Even if I have to die, I will not die that easily,’ he had told Indrajit. ‘I will not return Sita for anything, whatever be the reason,’ was his declaration throughout.

His soldierly bearing returned to him once again. ‘Whoever he is, let that be so,’ he decided. ‘I will not take one step back. I will not retreat.’ ‘yaarEnum thaan aaguga.’ Whoever he is, let it be. Let him be Shiva, Brahma or Vishnu or the Supreme of the Three. ‘yaan thani aaNmai pErEn.’ I will not swerve from my stand and will fight like the warrior that I am. ‘nindrE vendri mudippEn.’ I will stay here and fight and establish my victory. ‘pugazh petrEn.’ I have already won my reputation as a great warrior already, either way. ‘nErE sellum, kollum ennin,’ If Rama stands before me and kills me, fine. ‘nimir vendri vErE nirkkum.’ My victory would be in another form. My name would live as long as his name prevails. ‘mILkilEn.’ I will not retreat.

But the realisation, though late it be, served one good purpose. It erased the thought of Sita from his mind.

The last phase

Like the proverbial lantern that burns high and bright before it runs out of fuel, Ravana shone bright and burnt like ‘kalaagni,’ the primordial fire…

In the last day of the war, we see Ravana’s mind set only on his name, his reputation and his valour rather than anything else. He who walked back his way to his palace in shame from the first war, now shines out with his original qualities. Valiant was his efforts and extremely stiff was his resistance that day. Like the proverbial lantern that burns high and bright before it runs out of fuel, Ravana shone bright and burnt like ‘kalaagni,’ the primordial fire that is supposed to come out of earth at the time of deluge.

He struck with such force that Valmiki says: “Being overwhelmed by the ten-headed ogre, Sri Rama for his part could not (even) fit his arrows to his bow in the forefront of the battle. Knitting his brows, his eyes turned slightly crimson, he gave way to a fierce rage as though he would consume the ogres.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Yuddha Kanda, Canto CII, Sloka 32)

Rama severed his heads one by one. But the heads kept growing back the moment one was severed. Kamban paints a gory picture of the battle when he says: ‘koydhadhu koydhu iladhu ennum koLgayin eydha vandhu ak kaNaththu ezhundhadhu Or siram.’ A (new) head would spring up on the very moment one of the ten heads was severed, with such quickness that the beholders had no means of knowing whether the head was severed or not. A head would laugh at Rama when it springs back in position. Another would scoff at him when it flies in the air, severed by his arrows.

Ravana then downed the flag flying high on the chariot of Indra on which Rama was seated. “He tore the standard (of Indra’s chariot) with a single arrow aimed at it, and having felled the golden ensign from (the top of) the chariot down to the seat of the chariot, Ravana struck Indra’s horses as well with a series of arrows.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Yuddha Kanda, Canto CII, Sloka 29)

Enraged by this act, Rama hurled the javelin of Indra – Vajra – that was brought by Matali, along with the chariot, at Ravana. Ravana fell unconscious in his chariot. His charioteer immediately moved him away from the field, impelled by his duty, loyalty and love for his king. It was an act of kindness, an act of concern and an act of love. But Ravana could not see the correctness of what his charioteer did. But it is difficult to serve Ravana, you see. He was overwhelmed with shame. He unsheathed his sword immediately, in order to kill the charioteer. “Your chariot was not arbitrarily removed by me, O gallant warrior,” pleaded the charioteer. What was done by me was done because I was overwhelmed with affection for my master, O lord! Command me with an eye to the reality of things, O valiant exterminator of your enemies!” (Ibid, Canto CIII, Sloka 22, 23)

‘Oyvum Utramum nOkki, uyir porai saaivy nIkkudhal saaradhi thanmaiththaal,’ explains the charioteer. It is the duty of a charioteer to see when his lord is energetic and when he is tired. He should see to it that his king is saved from the jaws of death when he is swooned and helpless. I removed you from the field because you were vulnerable.’ Ravana’s anger cooled at those words. He returned to the battle with redoubled rage and energy. The onlookers were taken aback at the speed. ‘vEtru oru vaaL arakkan enum vemmayaal.’ ‘This must be another Ravana!’ they thought.

Do I sound like singing the praise of Ravana? Partially yes. There is nothing wrong in praising a heroic deed, even if it comes out of Ravana. Sri Rama himself did not hesitate to do so. On the other hand, I am simply preparing the ground for the study on Rama. For instance there are two remarkable qualities of Rama that come out in this one scene. Number one, he did not attempt to kill Ravana when he was unconscious. This was the second time that he spared him his life. Number two, the vinaya with which Rama speaks to his charioteer is to be seen against the backdrop of the above scene. But of course, that has to wait for some more time.

Guilt expiated

Ravana, when he gave up his life, did so for the sake of his reputation and not for Sita. His mind was clean of the lust that he had at the time of his death…

The war between Rama and Ravana lasted for seven days. ‘rama ravanayor yuddham rama ravanyoriva’ sang Valmiki. “the struggle between Sri Rama and Ravana can be likened only to the struggle between Sri Rama and Ravana.” We have seen only portions of it from the angle of Ravana. The glory of it is yet to come. What we have seen so far is only a preparation of ground for a detailed study when we take up Rama.

Kamban is very particular that the fair name of Sita is not affected in any manner. In the beginning, when Surpanakha stoked the fire of lust in Ravana, Kamban made a mention. mayiludaich chaayalaaLai vanjiyaa munnam,’ Even before he abducted Sita (and isolated her in prison) ‘nINda eyiludai ilangai vEndhan idhayamam sirayil vaiththaan’ Ravana arrested and imprisoned her in the gaol of his heart. (See: A tender feeling?)

Kamban remembers that the prison of Ravana’s heart needs to be opened now. He is very particular that the heart of Ravana is cleansed before he dies. He is very particular to open this prison of Ravana’s heart and release Sita from there, in full view of the world, before Vibishana could assume the kingship of Lanka and set her free. It was not just for the sake of holding Ravana above what he was. He expiated Ravana of the guilt because he could not allow even the slightest of stain to remain on Sita, writing of whom he often forgets himself and floats higher and higher up on the “viewless wings of poesy.”

He remembers those lines after around 7000 verses (6762 to be precise). Mandodari, the wife of Ravana runs to his dead body, and is overtaken by grief at the sight of her valiant husband lying on the dust of ground drilled by arrows a myriad, one away from the other just by less than a hair’s breadth. She breaks down at the sheer number of them and the depth each had drilled through his body. ‘Ah my darling! Your mighty frame that lifted Mount Kailash up is drilled through by arrows so many that there is not even space for spilling a single seed of sesame.’

‘kaL irukkum malark kUndhal saanakiyai manach chirayil karandha kaadhal
uL irukkum enak karudhi udal pugundhu thadaviyadhO oruvan vaaLi?’

‘What are they doing in your body, piercing it this deep? Is each of his (Rama’s) arrow reaching the depth of your heart, just to ensure that there is no trace of the love that you had for Janaki, where you had kept her imprisoned?’ ‘manach chirai’ she says, using almost the same phrase that was used by the Poet in Aranya Kanda. That prison is empty now. Even the last traces of lust, if any, which was already wiped clean by the death of Indrajit, and the personal realisation of Ravana in the battlefield, were cleansed by the sharpest of arrows of Rama.

Ravana, when he gave up his life, did so for the sake of his reputation and not for Sita. His mind was clean of the lust that he had at the time of his death. It was precisely this state of mind that Rama was waiting for and that is why he did not kill him at the end of the war on the first day and also when he fell unconscious in his chariot in the last day. And who else other than Mandodari, the wife of Ravana, can vouch for that fact? And how eloquently, how beautifully, how movingly she declares that!

There he lies on the field. As Sri VVS Aiyar says: “So ended the hero of a thousand battles, the most valiant hero, excepting Rama that epic poetry has ever created or sung. Achilles and Hector and even Arjuna and Bhima look like mere pigmies when placed beside this giant-king of Lanka. We do not speak only of the physical stature that the poet attributes to him. His passions and his power, his valour and his pride, his prowess and his authority are on the same gigantic scale as his vast physical proportions.”

He could not bear the thought that a woman could reject him. That made him try all the tricks in the book and also not in the book. One more instalment on this and we can move over to Sita.

A grand character, but…

You conquered your senses. You observed righteousness in the beginning and that is how you were able to conquer all the worlds. Now, they have conquered you!

Without doubt, Ravana is a grand character. Be it Valmiki or Kamban, both have crafted the character with grandeur. We have seen Rama remarking when he saw Ravana for the first time: “Oh! Ravana, the lord of ogres, is invested with an extraordinary luminous glory! Like the sun, Ravana is difficult to gaze on because of his rays of light. I do not actually discern his form, fully invested (as it is with effulgence. (Valmiki Ramayana, Yuddha Kanda, Canto LIX, Sloka 26 and 27)

Rama praises him very generously, after the war. He says, “Ravana has not met his death because he lacked in energy. He has fallen in combat for the good of the world even though he was endowed with terrible prowess and exhibited extraordinary enthusiasm of a very exalted type and remained undaunted (throughout). (Ibid, Canto CIX, Sloka 14)

It was no mean achievement, performing a gory penance on years on end, waging a war and winning all the three worlds. But he stands as an example – or rather a warning – of how one has to guard one’s mind always, irrespective of the fact whether one is considered to have hushed – or indeed won – one’s sense-centred, sense-directed and baser desires. As we have had occasion to point out earlier, the process of staying in control, as far as the desire to run after the gratification of the desires generated by the five-senses is concerned, is a continuous and unceasing one. ‘It is like waging a perennial war,’ says Valluvar. ‘adal vENdum aindhan pulaththai.’ It is a war that you have to wage against the senses five. You don’t afford to be slack even for a moment – even after the ‘supposed’ victory over them. The mind may take you anywhere, once you lose grip over it.

That is what Mandodari says in her lament. ”indhriyaaNi puraa jitva jitam thribhuvanam thvaya” After subduing the senses (including the mind, the internal sense) (all) the three worlds were conquered by you (I the course of the austerities practised by you) in the past. You (now) stand vanquished (in your turn) by the senses themselves (who have ceased to co-operate with you) as though they recollected their old grudge against you (occasioned by their discomfiture at your hands).” (Ibid, Canto CXI, Sloka 15)

You conquered your senses. You observed righteousness in the beginning and that is how you were able to conquer all the worlds. Now, they have conquered you! You lay on the ground today, because you let them conquer you. They in turn took revenge on you; they sprang back on you with the same force with which you suppressed them.

He was pious in the beginning; he was a tempest in the battlefield; he established his victories by sheer strength – strength of physical might and strength of the boons that had. But the real strength that is the foremost of all others, – the strength of character was sadly lacking in him. Moral Law is the first of all the five constant factors that govern the Art of War, says Sun Tzu. Of what avail is all external victories, if one fails to establish the victory over one’s own self?

The questions that Mandodari throw on the mortal remains of Ravana push us into deep contemplation. “That curse which was pronounced by them at that time on their having been wronged by you, has fallen on you. The popular saying that ‘the tears of women devoted to their husband do not generally fall on earth’s surface in vain’ has come out true in your case, O King! Nay, how was this mean act of abducting a woman actually perpetrated by you, O King, who, having invaded (all) the three worlds by your might, prided on your heroism? How cowardly it was on your part that the aforesaid consort of Sri Rama was borne away by you after luring away Sri Rama from his hermitage by recourse to a fraud in the shape of an (illusory) deer and also removing Lakshmana (from the scene).” (Valmiki Ramayana, Yuddha Kanda, Sloka 66-68)

One of the grandest warriors that epic poetry has ever produced. There is no denying that. But where does he stand in the estimation of his own wife!

Hari Krishnan