Left in the grove

We move away from her, unable to bear the sight and our hearts heavy, turning back at her again and again as did Lakshmana, when he departed from her…

The Poet ends the sarga with a very moving description of Janaki being surrounded by misshapen demonesses and being taken to the Asoka grove, on the departure of Ravana. She was emaciated and too tired and overwhelmed by grief. “The aforesaid princess of Mithila, Sita (daughter of Janaka), however, found her limbs overpowered by grief. Fallen into the clutches of the ogresses she was reduced to the plight of a female deer fallen into the clutches of tigresses. Overwhelmed with excessive grief, the timid Sita (a princess of Mithila, daughter of Janaka, did not find peace of mind any more than a female deer caught in a snare.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto 56, Sloka 34 and 35)

Added to that, the ogresses had already started their threats, taunts and teases. She was unable to take it any further and she fainted, says the Poet. “Threatened in an excessive measure by those misshapen ogresses of deformed eyes, the princess of Mithila, however, did not find rest there. ‘patim smarantii dayitam ca devaram’ Remembering her beloved lord as well as her brother-in-law (Lakshmana), she lost her consciousness, oppressed as she was with fear and grief.” (Ibid, Sloka 36)

Valmiki leaves her there, not to be seen for one whole book to come, Kishkindha Kanda, excepting through the grieving words of Rama. We feel a lump forming in the throat as the Poet turns our attention to Rama, who is now returning from his pursuit of the golden deer, worried and consoling himself that nothing untoward would happen to Sita – who would doubtless be worried about the voice that called her name and that of Lakshmana – because Lakshmana was by her side to take care of her.

We move away from her, unable to bear the sight and our hearts heavy, turning back at her again and again as did Lakshmana, when he departed from her in search of Rama. Around ten months would have passed when we meet her again in the Sundara Kanda.

Some editions include an interpolated canto after Canto 56. The authenticity of this canto is not clearly established especially in view of the fact that the commentary of celebrated and ancient commentators is absent. None of them has written commentaries on this Canto and it obviously is a later addition by an unknown hand.

I am not going fully into this Canto, as the events described herein are not significant to the main story. It just says that Indra visited her, accompanied by Nidra, at the command of Brahma and offered her ‘milk boiled with rice and sugar’. Sita took the offering from the hands of Indra and offered it mentally to Rama and Lakshmana first. “If my husband, who is possessed of extraordinary might, is (yet) alive with his (younger half) brother, let this (food) offered with devotion (by me) conduce to their gratification. Then she partook of it herself.” (Ibid, Interpolated Canto – 57, Sloka 24)

That was the divine panacea that sustained her during the time of her incarceration in the Asoka Vana, says this Canto. “Having thus partaken of that food fit to be offered as an oblation to the sacred fire, Sita (the daughter of King Janaka), who was possessed of a charming countenance, bade adieu to the agony caused by the pangs of hunger experienced by all hunger-stricken creatures, and felt delighted in mind to gather from Indra the news of Sri Rama and Lakshmana (the two scions of Kakutstha).” (Ibid, Sloka 25)

It reads like the dream of that little match-girl who lost her consciousness in the thick snow that covered her. It is really surprising to note that Janaki says, “If Rama and Lakshmana are alive”, when she has no reason to think that way. We do not find a single instance of her uttering something that borders on suspicion of their survival, either in the scenes preceding this canto or later. That adds credence to the claim that this must be an interpolated canto.

Let us now move over to Sundara Kanda.

Hanuman spots her

He has just completed scouring the entire country of Lanka. He had entered the bedchamber of Ravana and spotted Mandodari who was sleeping by his side…

Both the Poets show us the interview of Ravana and Sita on three different occasions, Kamban following his own way, the occasions portrayed by him varying from that of Valmiki. They do not differ much. The pattern and the mode adopted varies in that Ravana brings in one kind of pressure after the other and even goes to the extent of making her shed bitter tears at the ‘illusory’ head of Rama, with the tall claim that he has been killed.

There are of course a couple of other occasions on which Ravana reaches the Asoka Vana. But the conversation is very limited on those occasions. Ravana appears on the scene for a few moments to announce the ‘vanquishing of Rama’ after the serpent noose is let loose in one occasion and with a drawn sword, driven by the agony of the loss of Indrajit.

We see her in sorrow, tears and desperation every time, nonetheless with the same firm determination in her position. As we have seen, ten months have rolled past now when we see her in the Sundara Kanda through the eyes of Hanuman. This is confirmed by what Ravana tells her, while Hanuman is watching them, perched on the branch of a tree close by. “According to the time-limit (of twelve months) which has been fixed by me, I must wait for two months (that now remain).” he tells her, “After that you must share my bed, O lady of excellent complexion! My cooks will mince you for my morning repast in case you do not wish to have me for your husband even after two months (from now).” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XXII, Sloka 8 and 9)

Valmiki gives the first glimpses of her after this long a time through the eyes of Hanuman. He has just completed scouring the entire country of Lanka. He had entered the bedchamber of Ravana and spotted Mandodari who was sleeping by his side and deceived by her appearance and auspicious marks, Hanuman mistakes her for Sita and concludes that he has spotted her at last. He was so glad and lost his balance for a while. Valmiki puts it so very beautifully. ‘aashpoTayaam aasa cucumba puccham’ The moment he thought that he had spotted Sita – without realising that if it was Sita, she would not be found in the bedchamber of Ravana – he clapped his arms and kissed his tail. And the next moment he realises his mistake.

He is not able to see her anywhere else and is dejected about having to return to the mainland with the news that she is not traceable. He decides to remain there in Lanka itself, without returning to the mainland, forever, fasting till death, or commit suicide after killing Ravana. But the consequences of his of either returning with no information or remaining there in Lanka trouble him.

“What, I wonder, will Sugriva or the assemble monkeys or the two sons of Dasaratha tell me when I have reached Kishkindha? If having gone there, I for my part communicate to Sri Rama (a scion of Kakutstha) the jarring news that Sita has not been found by me, he will forthwith give up his life. Hearing the harsh, severe, piercing, cruel, soul-agonising and unpleasant tidings about Sita, he will no longer survive. Finding him reduced to straits and resolved upon dying, the extremely devoted and sagacious Lakshmana too will be no more. Hearing of the two (half-) brothers having perished, Bharata too will die and hearing of Bharata being dead, Satrughna (too) will not live. Reckoning their sons to be dead, Kausalya and Sumitra and Kaikeyi too will no doubt cease to be.” (Ibid, Canto XIII, Sloka 22 – 27)

He then thinks of the calamity that would follow. Sugriva would then give his life up, which would be followed by Tara, Ruma and a whole lot of other monkeys, leaving both Ayodhya and Kishkindha without a single inhabitant alive. He shudders to think of the chain reaction that his failure would set in. He decides to remain in Lanka and by sheer accident turns around, spots the Asoka Vana, and realises that this spot has not yet been searched.

He leaps over there and finds an excellent brook. ‘If she is alive, she would come here,’ he ponders. samdhyaa kaala manaaH shyaamaa dhruvam eSyati jaanakii | nadiim ca imaam shiva jalaam samdhyaa arthe vara varNinii|| Intent on the devotions pertaining to the (morning and evening) twilights, the fair-complexioned daughter of Janaka, who (ever) looks as though she were (only) sixteen years old, will surely seek this stream of translucent water for the sake of her (morning) ablutions and devotions.” (Ibid, Canto XIV, Sloka 49)

That sets at naught the popular belief that women were precluded from sandhya vandanam. Hanuman tells himself that she would visit the river, if she is alive, for performing the ‘sandhya’ rites.

Flame covered by smoke

This is the same woman for whom the entire Ayodhya wept when she wore the hermit’s weeds…

The pen pictures that the Poets draw of her is extremely pathetic and moving. She is clad in a worn out silk saree, dulled to a great extent, stained and soiled, the upper portion of which she had severed for bundling the jewels she threw down when she saw those monkeys. A few more ornaments – other than those she discarded that day – remained on her. Poorly clad, dirty, untidy and devoid of a good portion of her ornaments. This is the same woman for whom the entire Ayodhya wept when she wore the hermit’s weeds and pleaded with the King to send her with all ornaments and necessary silk to last for fourteen years. Not that Dasaratha had to be told about that. He had himself ordered her to be sent to the jungle that way.

She did not have a second saree other than the one she was wearing. Wherefrom would she get one after all! If she wanted to change, she had to accept one from Ravana. Would she be able to accept it from him! Unimaginable!

If Valmiki says she was like ‘pinaddhaam dhuuma jaalena shikhaam iva vibhaavasoH’ like a flame bedimmed because it is enveloped by smoke, Kamban says ‘veyilidaith thandha viLakku ena oLi ilaa meyyaaL,’ Her splendour was as dulled as a lamp put under broad day light. ‘piitena ekena samviitaam kliSTena uttama vaasasaa,’ says Valmiki. ‘She was clad in a single piece of excellent cloth that was wrinkled and worn out.’ ‘aavi am thugil punaivadhu ondru andri vEru ariyaaL,’ says Kamban. She had not seen a second cloth other than the one she was wearing, which she held on to as her very own life. It was as dear as her soul, because there was only one.

Valmiki’s agony for her takes the form of similes, which he rolls out in their dozens. “…who being enmeshed in a mighty and extensive cobweb of grief, ceased to shine like a flame intertwined with smoke, who resembled a Smrti text of doubtful meaning, a treasure that has been cast away, faith that has been shattered, a hope which has been frustrated, perfection impeded by obstacles understanding clouded by passion or reputation marred by false scandal…” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto XV, Sloka 32 – 34)

Kamban, in one breath rolls out a long list of various shades of her emotions in a single verse. If at all she felt anything and did anything, it was only these. ‘vizhudhal,’ tumble down on the ground, ‘vimmudhal’ sob, ‘mey ura vedhumbudhal,’ boil from within and be withered of body, ‘veruval’ frightened, ‘ezhudhal’ rise up uneasily, ‘Engudhal,’ yearn always, ‘iraamanai eNNith thozhudhal,’ pray with Rama in her mind, ‘sOrudhal,’ get exhausted, ‘thuLangudhal,’ perturbed, drooped, ‘thuyar uzhandhu uyirththal,’ heaving a sigh of sorrow, ‘azhudhal’ weeping in an unending stream of tears. ‘andri’ other than these, ‘matru ayal ondrum seyguvadhu ariyaaL’ she did not do anything and she did not know anything.

What I have attempted to give is only a mere crumb of a whole loaf of bread. Several dozens of loaves, to put it appropriately. It is not possible to capture the heights that the Poets have scaled. Every other phrase, every other simile and every other idiom enables us get a sharper and better picture of her condition; make our hearts bleed and shed tears.

Hanuman saw her, remaining in the midst of ogresses like a swan in the midst of vultures and a doe in the midst of wolves. Probably the memory of his mistake when he saw Mandodari demanded him to be extra cautious. He gazed at her and looked for evidence. ‘tarkayaam aasa siitaa iti kaaraNaiH upapaadibhiH.’ He reasoned out for himself, logically. ‘yathaa ruupaa hi dR^iSTaa vai tathaa ruupaa iyam anganaa.’ ‘She very much looks like the woman who was being borne away the other day by Ravana, over the Rishyamuka Parvata’ he thought.

But it was only a glimpse, an appearance for a fleeting moment that they have had of her at that time. Hanuman needed more evidence to come to the conclusion that he has really spotted her. He wanted to be doubly sure now, before deciding anything.

Logically speaking

Therefore, there is no doubt that she was the one who dropped the jewels that were collected in Rishyamuka Mountain the other day.

She resembles the woman who was seen borne away the other day; she matches the verbal picture that Rama painted for Hanuman. But these are rather vague. The group of monkeys saw her being taken away. They were worn out and emaciated and were troubled by the thoughts of being pursued by Vali. They took pity on this poor lady of course, but could not do anything because they at that time, including Hanuman, were dulled by the fear of Vali. The curse on Hanuman had made him forget his own strength. That in fact, was the reason why he was running along with Sugriva, though Vali in no way matched him in strength or valour.

She is tired, dulled and emaciated by the physical and mental torment that she has been undergoing for a long time. Even then, she is a woman of great charm. Going by her looks, she very much seemed to be the same woman that Rama described to him before the commencement of the search. And then, Hanuman takes a closer look at the ornaments that she is wearing. “I find (on her person) a pair of skilfully-shaped earrings and also a pair of Swadamstras (another ornament for the ears), as well as ornaments on the limbs of her hands, set with gems and coral. Though darkened (due to their not having been brushed for a long time and also due to their contact with her untidy person), they are of the same shape. I (therefore) believe them to be the same of which Sri Rama spoke (at the time).” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XV, Sloka 42 and 43)

Not only does the description of her appearance, but also the details that were given about he ornaments match. There is something more. The limbs where she must be wearing those ornaments that she discarded are unadorned. “I don’t find (on her person) those which had dropped (on the Rishyamuka Mountain). No doubt the existing ornaments are the same which did not drop from her person.” (Ibid, Sloka 44) Obviously, she has not discarded all the ornaments that she was wearing. She bundled only some of them and threw at them. That which is absent, more than that which is present on her person, confirm that she must be the same person for whom this search was undertaken.

Therefore, there is no doubt that she was the one who dropped the jewels that were collected in Rishyamuka Mountain the other day. “That shining yellow upper garment, which looked like a sheet of gold (due to its texture of gold) and which, when dropped was seen by the monkeys caught in a tree at that time, as also the principal ornaments found lying on the earth’s surface, which were valuable and made a tinkling sound were dropped by her alone.” (Ibid, Sloka 45)

And there is another evidence. The garment that she is now wearing is of the same colour and is made of the same material as that of the piece of cloth that was used for bundling the jewels. “Although the existing garment (on her person) is exceedingly worn, having been used (by her) for a long time, its colour is yet unfaded and the piece is as bright as the other one.” (Ibid, Sloka 46) Both pieces match perfectly. What she is wearing is the same cloth and the other piece that was used to wrap the jewels has obviously been ripped from this garment.

Therefore, logically speaking, this is the same woman for whom Rama is agonised. “Here is the one for whom Sri Rama is suffering torment through the following four viz., pity, tenderness, grief and love – through pity for a (helpless) woman (deserving protection) having disappeared; through tenderness for one who was dependent on him, through grief at the thought of his (own) spouse having been lost and through love for one who was beloved of him.” (Ibid, Sloka 49 and 50)

While Hanuman was debating and reasoning out for himself, there appeared the most vital and indisputable evidence in the shape of Ravana. Hanuman has seen him a couple of hours ago, sleeping. The day has not yet dawned. This fellow could not sleep, obviously, and has now come to the Asoka Vana.

The Assault on Identity

‘Everything starts with the assault upon identity,’ says Lifton. Erase that identity and the person is prepared for his or her inner surrender.

This second interview – first one in Kamba Ramayana – between Ravana and Sita is not going to be any different from the first one that Valmiki portrayed, on the first day on which she was brought to Lanka. The content is very much the same, the approach is the very same – starting from lewd remarks about her, pleading, touching her feet and departing with angry words – the arguments are the same and her firm stand also remains unchanged.

As we have mentioned earlier, both Valmiki and Kamban describe these conversations on three different occasions. But there is no reason to believe that such occasions were limited to that number. It was a matter of everyday habit, a matter of routine for Ravana to go to the Asoka Vana, during the day or during the night, whenever he was impelled by that desire. This is evidenced by the angry retort of Kumbakarna in the war council when Ravana opens his speech with the remark that the pride of the race was slighted by a mere monkey who set the country on fire.

‘nannagar azhindhadhu ena naaNinai nayaththaal,’ Kumbakarna quips. ‘So? You feel ashamed by the fact that the country has been set ablaze?’ ‘un uyir enath thagum dhEviyargaL un mEl in nagai tharath thara,’ Even as your queens, who must really be valued as dear as your own soul, look at you with a loving smile (even as they continue to love you) ‘oruththan manai utraaL pon adi thozhath thozha maruththal,’ you habitually (go everyday) to touch the feet of another man’s wife and she turns you down firmly every time. ‘pugazh pOlaam’ Ravana, my brother, this act of yours adds to the pride of the race indeed! We are so proud that the king of Lanka, the lord of the universe does this everyday!

It is not that easy to withstand this kind of emotional assault everyday. Speaking of the ‘brainwashing techniques’ adopted in China, Robert Jay Lifton says in ‘Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism,’ that over a period of time, the person who is subjected to such treatment, gets converted and very willingly ‘confesses’ of activities that are doctored by and by into the mind, though he or she is innocent. Administered with appropriate doses of torture – both physical and emotional – the person migrates from the position of innocence to that of ‘acceptance of guilt’ and even begs for help on ‘expiating’ it, when in reality he or she is not actually guilty of such activities.

‘Everything starts with the assault upon identity,’ says Lifton. Erase that identity and the person is prepared for his or her inner surrender. After his extensive studies on Father Luca and Dr. Vincent, who were subjected to such treatment (and who were made to confess against themselves, of activities which they were not guilty of), Lifton says the following. “This assault upon autonomy and identity even extended to the level of consciousness, so that men began to exist on a level which was neither sleep nor wakefulness, but rather an in-between hypnogogic state. In this state they were not only more readily influenced, but they were also susceptible to destructive and aggressive impulses arising from within themselves.”

The assault on identity then leads to the establishment of guilt and self-betrayal, says Lifton.

Our purpose is not to go into the intricacies of Thought Reform. Nevertheless, one who goes into the details of the techniques adopted there, and the details of the techniques that Janaki was subjected to, would realise that they do not differ much. His attempt was aimed at breaking her psyche, the core of her being, tinkering with her emotions and doctoring her decision. If Sri Rama waged his war with Ravana with will and weapons, Janaki waged her war against him by her strong will alone, all alone by herself.

On wives and their roles

It is just plain and obvious that Mandodari or Dhanyamalini did not like what was going on before their eyes. And it is also very plain and obvious that…

What is more striking is that Ravana, whenever he visits the Asoka Vana, is accompanied by Mandodari, the first of his queens and mother of Indrajit and Dhanyamalini, the youngest of the queens and mother of Atikaya. They do not attempt to stop him or advice him against his act, as any normal wife would do. It must be that they got so used to the wayward ways of Ravana and have got reconciled to it and accepted it as their normal way of life.

If one thinks over, one would realise that this was the case with Tara, the wife of Vali too. We do not find a single word from Tara, objecting to his coveting Ruma. Properly speaking, as per our tradition, the wife of the elder brother is held as one’s own mother and the wife of the younger brother is held as one’s very own daughter. And that is how Lakshmana holds Sita as his own mother, even Sumitra tells him that she should be regarded as his mother, while Rama is to be seen as his father. Think about it. Lakshmana was younger to Rama by just two days and Janaki was younger to both by about four years. Despite this difference in age, Lakshmana had no difficulty in accepting Janaki as his mother. We find in so many different places Janaki referring to Lakshmana as their own endeared son.

Given this situation, it is rather strange that Tara did not open her mouth in protest when Vali coveted Ruma, the wife of Sugriva. She does not do so anywhere either in Valmiki or in Kamba Ramayana. As against this, we find Dhanyamalini bursting forth at Ravana, unable to control her agony any further, when the news of the death of her handsome son Atikaya reaches home. ‘Edhu ayya sindhiththu irukkiraai?’ she would taunt. ‘What are you thinking about now?’ ‘eN irandha kOdhai aar vEl arakkar pattaaraik kUvaayO?’ ‘Why don’t you call back to life the numberless Rakshasas who have been killed?’ You have been telling all of us that even Yama is afraid of you and is at your beck and call. Now, call him and bring back all those countless ogres who died for you. Give my Atikaya back to me!

That is a couched way of reminding Ravana that which he is incapable of and that which he had not realised thus far. ‘pEdhai aai kaamam pidiththaar pizhaipparO?’ she would continue. Will any fool whose mind is inundated by lust survive? ‘seethayaal innum varuva silavO?’ Do you think that this would stop with my son? Don’t you see that many more agonising moments remain to come because of Sita?

Mandodari would hit out at Ravana only when she sights the headless trunk of Indrajit. ‘anjinEn, anjinEn,’ she would wail at that moment. ‘O I am frightened, I am horrified!’ ‘ach cheedhai ennnum amudhaal seydha nanjinal,’ because of that Sita, hemlock made of nectar, ‘ilangai vEndhan naaLai ith thagayan andrO?’ would the Emperor of Lanka not be like this tomorrow? She would tell this when Ravana is around, within earshot. She would bare the innermost recesses of her heart only when she wails over the mortal remains of Ravana.

It is just plain and obvious that Mandodari or Dhanyamalini did not like what was going on before their eyes. And it is also very plain and obvious that they could not protest at that moment. Their feelings could only be seen when Ravana remains absolutely crestfallen and is not able to retort in any way. And that makes it very plain that though Ravana loved his queens, though Mandodari is celebrated as one among the five most distinguished women, she – or his other wives for that matter – did not have the right to express what they really felt.

Compare this situation with Janaki, who did not have any difficulty in expressing her thoughts when she had the slightest feeling that Sri Rama may be overstepping the bounds of rectitude. (See: Here are your weapons, Up in arms? and It is the way of weaponry)

Is it Sri Rama who shows us how a husband should be or is it the Mother who tells us what a wife should do?

What she went through

That is something, which a normal woman of any age is not capable of listening to. Despite all the ‘cultural revolutions’ that the world has witnessed…

It has to be remembered that the present scene is taking place in the presence of Hanuman. Both, Sita and Ravana are completely unaware of his presence. Hanuman has assumed the form of a very ordinary monkey now and is perched on the branch of a tree. As for Hanuman, this was the evidence that he needed to confirm what he deduced moments back.

The verbal torment starts once again. It would be better to give a portion of what Ravana speaks direct from what the Poet says rather than giving an essence of it. Listen to how he begins his address. “Concealing your breasts and belly, O lady with thighs resembling the proboscis of an elephant, you want to keep yourself out of sight as it were through fear (of me).” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XX, Sloka 2)

That is something, which a normal woman of any age is not capable of listening to. Despite all the ‘cultural revolutions’ that the world has witnessed, the changes that the society has undergone due to the passage of thousands of years from that time to this day, such an approach and such a description is still offensive and is considered harassment to this day. Imagine the agony that this would have caused her when she was subjected to this verbal torment to this epitome of modesty. It does not stop there. The entire address of Ravana has liberal doses of such observations every now and then.

“Who, having come across you, O princess of the Videha territory adorned (as you are) with comeliness and (exuberant youth), would not lose his balance of mind, even if he is Brahma (the grandfather of the universe) himself? My eye gets riveted, O lady of broad hips, on each of your limbs, which I behold, O lady endowed with a moonlike countenance.” (Ibid, Sloka 15)

‘indru irandhana, naaLai irandhana,’ The days are passing. Dead and gone is many a yesterday and dead and gone would be many a morrow. ‘en tharum thanmai idhaal.’ This is the kind of mercy that you are showing unto me. ‘enaik kondru irandha pin kUdudhiyO?’ When would you join me! Don’t you see that I am dying of the passion for you? Don’t you see that you are killing me with this unsatiated love that I am burdened with at my heart!

Kamban has toned down the language of Ravana to a very great extent. This was the poet who, it is said, refused to write the Uttara Kanda because he is unable to depict his mother in agony any more! He could not allow Ravana to indulge in such unrestrained limb-by-limb description of her. Of course, he paints a pen picture of her beauty through the eyes of Rama and also that of Hanuman. Not certainly, through the lusty words of Ravana.

Though void of the lascivious descriptions, sometimes bordering on obscenity, the description that Ravana indulges in of Janaki’s beauty in Kamban, bite nevertheless. The absence of the bland and direct remarks, intended to give an adequate peep into the material with which Ravana is made, do not make any difference to the character that Kamban has built. Ravana still sounds harsh and unbearable.

Anyone else would have crumbled under such enormous pressure. This is where Janaki differs. I do not say that the world is devoid of Janakis. We do have unsung Vaidehis who go through such excruciating moments and fight the brute with a strong will. It is only natural that they do so, because you see, they are all none but the brave daughters of this bulwark of iron will.

What she went through – Part II

That sets a series of threats from those ogresses of varying shapes, who had mastered the art of coercion. If Ekajata adopts a conciliatory tone…

Infuriated by the angry retort of Sita, Ravana stepped forward menacingly, as to kill her. “O woman devoted to a man who is beset with ill luck and is devoid of resource, I shall get rid of you today by recourse to my glory (even) as the sun dispels the morning twilight by its brilliance.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XXII, Sloka 31). But he is stopped by Mandodari and Dhanyamalini. Ravana is practically drawn away from that place by his queens. ‘Adopt whatever method that you think fit,’ Ravana instructs the misshapen guards that surrounded her, encouraging them to intensify their psychological assault. ‘Ensure only this. She must be mine. She should listen to me. I don’t care what you are going to do and how you are going to achieve it.’

‘anjuviththaanum,’ Frighten her. ‘ondraal arivurath thEtriyaanum,’ or advise her, appealing to her intellect, making the hard reality clear to her and the only choice left for her. ‘vanjiyin sevviyaaLai vasithu enpaal varuvIr’ come to my presence with her mind turned in love for me. ‘andrEl,’ or else, ‘nanju umakku aavEn’ I will be the poison that puts an end to your lives.

That sets a series of threats from those ogresses of varying shapes, who had mastered the art of coercion. If Ekajata – one of the demonesses – adopts a conciliatory tone and narrates the glory of Ravana, Harijata, another ogress follows quickly and intercepts Ekajata with her remarks of anger. The next moment Vikata takes over and sounds pleasing and appealing. This is once again followed by the harsh words of a group of ogresses, which is stopped by Vinata, who compares Rama and Ravana and tells Sita how Ravana is preferable in all respects.

Vikata, another demoness sounds logical and places the emphasis on the situation that offered no protection; no asylum and nobody to turn to except Ravana. “(It is a pity that) you do not even then abide by our wholesome and opportune advice. (You must remember that) you have been transported to the other shore of the sea, which is difficult to access to others. Again, you have found your way into the dreadful gynaecium of Ravana, O princess of Mithila! (Nay) you have been detained in the abode of Ravana and are guarded on all sides by us. Not even Indra (the destroyer of strongholds) himself is capable of rescuing you. (Therefore) act up to the advice of mine, who am tendering friendly counsel (to you), O princess of Mithila!” (Ibid, Sloka 30 – 32)

‘Stop shedding tears. This does not befit you. You have to realise that you don’t have a choice left for you but to accept Ravana as your consort.’ Even before Vikata could complete her advice offered in a very appealing manner, Candodari, another demoness, interrupted her and came out with a very descriptive and elaborate threat of gobbling her down. “At the sight of this woman with eyes resembling those of a fawn and with her breasts shaking through fear, borne away (to Lanka) by Ravana, this great longing sprang up in my heart that I should feast on her liver and spleen, her swollen breast as well as her heart including its stem (consisting of veins and arteries), nay, all her limbs and head too. Such is my mind even now” (Ibid, Sloka 37 – 41)

‘Let us join together and kill her. Bring some wine. Let us drink and pull her limbs piece by piece and eat to our heart’s content,’ they roared together. Janaki trembled. She wept. She was afraid. But her resolve remained the same. ‘You may devour me, if you want. My mind remains the same,’ she told them with tears rolling from her eyes and with a voice that trembled and choked out of fear.

Is the spirit willing?

Well, it happened to Janaki too. She was depressed. She was unable to take it any further. She thought that there is no reason to believe that Rama…

Subjected to regular and never-ending harassment over a number of months, even the patience, faith and confidence of Janaki came down that day. Trijata, the daughter of Vibishana was the only support on whom she could lean on. But even Trijata had to be discreet. She had to be cautious about not letting either Ravana or the other guards around Sita know her supportive role. That would affect Janaki first more than anyone else. Sarama, the wife of Vibishana, is shown extending her moral support to Sita in a couple of scenes in Valmiki Ramayana. But Sarama is totally absent in Kamba Ramayana. Kamban does not mention anything about her.

Her mind troubled, anguished and clouded, her soul distressed, her physique emaciated, she – for the first time – feels insecure and lonely. ‘Why is Rama not coming! What could be the reason for this delay in his arrival, which seems to be extending over an unbearably long number of days! Would this ordeal be over ever, or would the period of two months that is left for now also wear out and disappear? Ten months have already elapsed in faith and hopes. But now, there seems to be nothing left for her to bank her faith on.

It is not that she lost her confidence in Rama. It is not that she thought that he would ever remain inactive and nonchalant about her. He would reach for her the moment he comes to know of this island in which she is imprisoned, unseen by a soul who can tell him of her whereabouts. ‘It is a distant dream,’ she feels now, ‘to think that Rama would ever come to know anything about me,’ not knowing that such a valiant source is watching her right now, perched on the bough of the tree under which she is sitting!

That happens to all of us. Pressures and pains surround, mount and crush us. We undergo a test of endurance for a long time. Actually, this ‘long time’ is a relative term. The question of ‘long’ or ‘short’ is answered by the mind and not by the clock. Endurance wears out after what we believe it to be a ‘very long time’ when all the reasons for our hopes, faith and even survival suddenly seem to move away from us, vanish from our hearts. It so happens that we mock at our own selves for nursing such ‘impossible’ dreams and come to urgent and often unfortunate conclusions. The moment that we conclude that way, may be the very same moment in which help is very close at hand.

There would be moments when our faith seem to slacken, our hopes seem to wane, our will seem to wilt. But the unknown Designer has His own ways. Many of us have been through such moments. Tired and emaciated, we would lose our grip on all the firm holds and would even tend to think that the pain that we experience in our hands might be due to the fierce grip that we have on the stake that supports our survival, a stake named faith. We would give up. We would decide to quit from all this. Is it not our experience that at such times an unknown and unsolicited and even unexpected helping hand taps on our shoulders, holds our hands and lifts our spirits to unseen heights and changes our very perception, clears the clouds and lets bright and clear sunshine into our hearts. It happens. It happens to all of us. Every single one of us.

Well, it happened to Janaki too. She was depressed. She was unable to take it any further. She thought that there is no reason to believe that Rama would ever come to know anything about her. Even at this point of time, she does not suspect Rama’s quality. “Consumed by Sri Rama’s shafts, Lanka with its principal ogres slain and its splendour dissipated will look gloomy, if only that heroic Sri Rama, the corners of whose eyes are red, comes to know of my being present in the abode of Ravana (an ogre).” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XXVI, Sloka 30 and 31)

Lanka would be destroyed with all the chief ogres, the moment he comes to know that I am here. But what is the source that would carry that information to him?

Or, am I deceiving myself? Is there a possibility that he has given up on me? Is there a likelihood of his deserting me? Well, there are good reasons for his doing so, if he does so. I would be in a helpless situation, even if I am rescued by him.

She clearly foresees what might happen. Kamban portrays her envisioning what lies in store for her. The spirit may not be willing sometimes, when the meat is tired.

Surudhi naayagan varum varum…

Her eyes would roll in all directions, always eager and ready to receive him the moment he arrives. He might come there any moment.

Kamban opens the scene with Janaki brooding over the various possibilities that might be the cause for this delay in Sri Rama coming to her rescue. ‘Lakshmana might have told him about the harsh words that I spoke. ‘என்னை, நாயகன் இளவலை, எண்ணலா வினையேன் சொன்னவார்த்தை கேட்டு,’ Rama might have heard of the words that I spoke to Lakshmana, ‘அறிவு இலள் எனத் துறந்தானோ ?’ and may be he thought that I don’t deserve to be protected and therefore discarded me. Or it may be that Lakshmana was not able to find Rama in the thick jungle and they are not able to meet each other. It is not likely that Jatayu, the only witness to my abduction, would have survived till Rama could see him. He was so mortally wounded. There is no possibility of Rama coming to know of this island.

What is to be observed here is the fact that even at such a moment of distress, she does not think ill of Rama and does not conclude that he had failed in his duty or suspect his love for her in any manner. If there is delay, it is due to circumstances. Or it may be even that she was the reason that justified the situation. Not he. His love for her would not change and he would reach here. If it is not happening, he is not aware of where she is hidden.

But the mind wavers. ‘Would it be that Bharata, Kaikeyi and others came to the forest after my abduction, and took him back to the kingdom during these last ten months?’ a fleeting thought goes through her mind. ‘பெற்ற தாயரும தம்பியும் பெயர்த்தும் வந்து எய்தி, கொற்ற மா நகர்க் கொண்டு இறந்தார்களோ ? ’ Kausalya, Sumitra and Kaikeyi, along with Bharata and Satrughna might have come again to the jungle and might have even taken him back. That thought lasts for just a moment. ‘No, it is not possible at all,’ she tells herself the next moment. ‘சொற்ற ஆண்டு எலாம் உறைந்தன்றி, அந் நகர் துன்னான்’ He won’t return to Ayodhya until he completes the specified number of years in exile. It is not possible to take him back.

‘What has happened is a stain on his race,’ she feels. He would not be able to bear that blemish. He would come looking for me. ‘பரிதி வானவன் குலத்தையும் பழியையும் பாரா சுருதிநாயகன்,’ He, the Lord of Vedas, would not be able to bear the blemish that would be caused on the family of Ayodhya ‘வரும் வரும் என்பதோர் துணிவால்,’ and if not for the love of me, he would verily come to take me back for the sake of saving his race from the blame that would otherwise cloud its fair name. That sustained her. That enabled her to live, though her soul was overburdening her and she would very much prefer to shed her life. ‘கருதி மாதிரம் அனைத்தையும் அளக்கின்ற கண்ணாள் ’ Her mind would be so filled with the faith that Sri Rama would be with her. Her eyes would roll in all directions, always eager and ready to receive him the moment he arrives. He might come there any moment.

This was the position before the arrival of Ravana. Even before Hanuman arrived in Asoka Vana. Hanuman would arrive shortly on the scene. Ravana came there and tormented her mind, and left from there, instructing the guards to break her will by adopting any method that they may think fit. Of course, Trijata silenced the guards and she was left alone. She is not able to bear this any more. After all, she has only a period of remission for just two more months. Of course, the hope that Sri Rama would come to her rescue even before those two months expired, still lasted. But then, something else troubles her now.

Agreed. Rama would come. He would kill Ravana and wipe out the evil forces from the face of the earth. He would not fail in his duty. The duty to save the fair name of his father and his race and the family of Ayodhya would not let him remain idle. She knows her Rama by his inches. She knows his mind. She knows every nook and corner, every niche and every recess of that unfathomable heart.

He would rescue her, no doubt. But would he accept her?

Hari Krishnan