Sita and the signet - I

This is the reaction of Janaki that Valmiki paints, on seeing the ring of her loved one, after such a long time of separation and yearning that led her to dejection…

The dramatic elements and build of characters is awe-inspiring in Kamban. If Sita asks for a description of the physical appearance of Rama, it is only incidental and out of an anxious curiosity in Kamban’s poetry. She does not seek that information to verify the identity of Hanuman. All her suspicions about this ‘monkey’ are subsided the moment she pacifies herself. (See: irakkamE vadivaai vandhu…) And whatever remains evaporates when Hanuman establishes his personal relations with her.

In fact, if Kamban’s Sita asks Maruti to describe to her the physical features of Sri Rama, it appears more to be so to provide to the poet an opportunity to exploit happily to draw a vivid verbal picture, full of passion and devotion. That is simply an excuse for such an opportunity and no more. In line with the tradition, Hanuman gives her a padhaathi-kesa description – starting from the feet and going upwards limb-by-limb until the locks of hair are described with a liberal dose of enrapturing similes and metaphors.

Hanuman then narrates a few personal incidents that are known only to the couple, by way of authentication, which Rama had asked him to recall to her mind. And, most important of all, he remembers to produce the signet ring of Rama at the end of the effusion. The reader would remember the ‘error of omission’ that Valmiki portrays. (See: An Error of Omission too)

‘mIttum urai vENduvana illai ena’ There is no need for adding another word to what I have already said, he told her. ‘meyp pEr thIttiyadhu,’ Engraved with my name ‘thItta ariya seigayadhu,’ and impossible to be imitated because of its excellent craftsmanship ‘sevvE nIttu idhu,’ show this to her ‘enaa nErndhanan,’ ordered my Lord to me ‘enaa’ so saying, ‘nediya kayyaal kaatinan Or aazhi,’ Hanuman showed her the signet of Rama that bore his name.

‘Mother, you would have no doubt about this ring, for you have seen this on his finger for more than twenty years. Yet, let me tell you these. This ring bears his name. And you know that it is not possible to produce an imitation because of the intricate workmanship that has gone into its creation.’ ‘Do not entertain that fear any more,’ he seems to suggest. ‘This ring is inimitable. This bears his name and therefore, you can rest assured that it belongs to him.’

This is the reaction of Janaki that Valmiki paints, on seeing the ring of her loved one, after such a long time of separation and yearning that led her to dejection and took her to almost the edge of the precipice less than an hour back. “Taking the jewel which had been adorned (so long) by the hand of her lord and gazing on it, as though her own husband had duly arrived (in the form of that ring), Sita (Janaka’s daughter) felt rejoiced. Her charming countenance with large coppery and white eyes bloomed with joy and shone like moon released by Rahu.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XXXVI, Sloka 4 and 5)

She is rejoiced. It is not a ring any more. She sees her own loving Rama in it. She feels as if Rama has come in person and is standing before her. But she still seems to be under control. She is not choked by emotions and overtaken by her love for her lord. If she was, it did not show through her actions. She praises Hanuman, holding the ring in her palm, adores him, appreciates him for having accomplished what is ‘impossible’ for the most able and valiant. “Surely, Sri Rama, who is difficult to overpower, would not send to my presence in particular an untried hand without fully ascertaining the latter’s prowess,” she tells him. (Ibid, Sloka 11)

The focus now shifts to Hanuman. A loving heart living in isolation and deprivation, which is yearning for the semblance of the signs that serve as the harbinger of the end of her turmoil, would surely not be able to contain itself when the promise of liberation and the assurance of love falls into its hands. We would have expected her to give a free vent to her feelings. Love restrains nothing. Love knows no shame. Love is not bound by circumstances – that too the kind of circumstances that have been dogging her this long a time.

Kamban’s vision takes us to another plane. He lifts our hearts high up and let them float in the air, along with her heart.

Sita and the signet - II

Strange indeed are the ways of the mind. When the loved one is away, very ordinary objects kindle and intensify the tender feelings. It reminds one of his or her warmth and love and affection. A hundred and more incidents – connected or not connected with the object – come to the mind and saturate the inner space in a second. It may be a pen, or a book that carries his or her signature or just anything. When the person that used it or gifted it is absent, that object takes the place of the person, especially so when the mind is loaded and burdened with the yearning to be together again.

The mind plays the magic on itself and there appears the darling in that lifeless object. That dull and cold object suddenly takes the form of the person. No. It is not illusion. It is magic. Pure and pleasant magic that love alone can create. Kamban captures those beautiful moments in his wonderful lines. Earlier too, when the jewels of Janaki are shown to Rama he paints such a picture, bringing out his love-laden and the love-lorn heart.

To quote just one verse that Kamban speaks of Rama’s state of mind on seeing her ornaments, ‘mOndhida naru malar aayina.’ Flowers, they must have been, for he smelt them so deep. ‘moymbinil Endhida uthariyaththai Eyndhana.’ Or were they the upper garment, for he started wearing them on his person? ‘saandhamum aay.’ Or they should be the paste of sandalwood, for he smeared them all over. ‘thazuva pOrththalaal,’ since he tried to cover his person with those jewels, ‘pUn thugil aay ap pUvai pUNgaLE,’ they became the silken garments for him to wear.

This is no place to elaborate on the tender feelings that filled the heart of Rama now. We are speaking about Janaki. However, I quoted just one verse for the sake of bringing out the fact that similar was the kind of feelings that filled their hearts when they were placed in similar circumstances. The reaction of Janaki was no different. And it was given to Maruti to stand witness to both. Beautiful. Just beautiful.

She held on to it. Rama tried those ornaments on himself and felt her presence. This is a very small ornament that does not even fill one’s palm. She felt elated; her mind played the magic, however. ‘vaanginaL.’ She took it from Hanuman. ‘mulaik kuvayil vaiththanaL.’ Pressed it to her breasts, as though embracing him. ‘siraththal thaanginaL.’ Placed it on her head, as though paying her love and obeisance at the feet of her endeared husband. ‘thadandh thOL vInginaL; melindhanaL.’ Her shoulders would broaden now; and would contract the very next moment. ‘kuLrindhanaL.’ Cool was her mind. ‘vedhupOdu EnginaL.’ Warm was her feelings and her person. ‘idhu innal enal aamE!’ Who can say that this was the state of her mind, precisely!

Rama had several of her ornaments. She had just only one of them. However, that single ring of Rama transmuted itself. ‘mOkkum.’ She would inhale it deep. ‘mulai vaiththu ura muyangum.’ Put it to her breasts, embracing him in her mind. ‘oLir nal nIr neekki,’ Wiping the tears that shone at her eyelids, ‘nirai kaN iNai thadhumba,’ and with tears filling those pair of eyes again, ‘nedu nILam nOkkum’ she would gaze and gaze on it for a long, long time. ‘nuvalak karudhum.’ She would begin to say something. ‘ondrum nuvalgilaL.’ But did not say anything, for words failed her. ‘mEkku nimir vimmalaL vizhungal urugindraaL.’ She would suppress the sobs that would emanate from deep within her being, trying not to show her emotions out.

So deep ran their love for each other.

In praise of Maruti

As we have seen earlier, Maruti is the very backbone of the story. We have held this magnificent character under our curious eyes. We have seen several shades of this multifaceted gem, as the crisis manager, as the trusted deputy, as a staunch and loyal devotee and as a self-effacing personality who crossed the ocean and moved mountains – literally as well as figuratively – in his service to Sri Rama. That was when we began this series of articles on the Ramayana, more than two years back. For those who want to go through those earlier instalments, I am giving here the link for the first article on Hanuman. See: The brewing of a crisis I

Hanuman is praised very highly in the Ramayana in several places, starting with the words of Jambavan. He virtually worships this hero. “Indeed you are a compeer, O Hanuman, of Sugriva, the ruler of (all) monkeys, nay even Sri Rama and Lakshmana in point of valour and might,” he tells Hanuman. (Valmiki Ramayana, Kishkindha Kanda, Canto LXVI, Sloka 3) That Sloka puts him on par with Sri Rama and Lakshmana though he would not personally approve of such comparison. The eleven verses of Jambavan in the parallel scene in Kamba Ramayana are pure manna for the devotees of this embodiment of wisdom and valour.

He is praised by almost everyone in the epic. Sri Rama himself praises Hanuman in several instances. If I were asked to list the best of compliments and tributes ever paid to Hanuman in the Ramayana, I would pick out three verses; all of them uttered by Sita, her soul melting and flowing through the words of the Poet, soaked in grace, gratefulness and gratitude. Two of them thank him profusely and the remaining one is a blessing. It’s a blessing that befits him, a blessing that is appropriate for this wonderful personality and a blessing to which none else excepting his own self would qualify. Two of these verses occur in this particular scene and the third occurs in the Yuddha Kanda, after the killing of Ravana.

She was speechless for a long time with the signet of Sri Rama in her hands. She appeared as though she was charmed, as though she is possessed, throwing all caution, circumspection and the consciousness of the ogresses on guard – now under a spell – to the winds. ‘men kudhalai thaLLa,’ she blabbered like a baby, unable to speak. ‘uyir thandhaai uththama.’ The words merely state, ‘Noble one! You gave my life back to me.’ But the import of those words, the emotions that are laden in them are quite heavy and are of deeper significance. ‘You brought me the reason to live. You made me feel that this life is worth living indeed!’ I promise to go into this seemingly little phrase when we take up Agni Pravesa.

What follows is a very rare tribute that Hanuman receives. He considers himself no more than a humble servant of the divine couple. Listen to what the Mother tells him. ‘mummai aam ulagam thandha mudhalvarkkum mudhalvan thUdhu aay,’ ‘You have come here as the messenger of the one who is the Creator of Creator of this Universe.’ That is to say, you are the messenger of Rama, who is none other than Narayana, the Father of Brahma. ‘semmayaal uyir thandhaaikku seyal enaal eLiyadhu uNdE!’ Am I capable of repaying the burden of debt that I owe you, by your act of restoring my life to me – and of course, for brining me the reason for continuing to exist?

She states half the truth and lets the remaining half to be understood by inference. You are the messenger of Rama, who is none other than Narayana. She leaves it unstated. We know that it implies that She is His Consort playing this present role. And how does the Mother of the Universe address Hanuman! ‘ammai aai,’ You are my mother, Maruti ‘appan aaya aththanE,’ and you are my father. ‘aruLin vaazhvE,’ You are the refuge of, you are the shelter for grace, for mercy!

And why does she say so? ‘immayE marumai thaanum nalginai isayOdu.’ You stand witness to my purity and save my reputation – for this world and the other. We will elaborate on this a little later.

Now for the second verse, the blessing.

indru ena iruththi

We have a long tradition of seeking the blessings of elders. On meeting them and also when departing, we touch their feet and they bless us profusely. Sometimes, we are so moved about the benedictions showered on us that it resounds in the inner ear almost always. Those words stay with us and many of us strongly believe that it is due to the benedictions – aasi – of elders that we are what we are today and that those words suffused in love and affection would lead us to greater heights.

Allow me to digress a little today from the main topic of discussion. The verse that we are about to discuss necessitates it. It is necessary to understand the beauty of this unique blessing of Janaki, on Hanuman. What is the purpose of a blessing? What does the person who blesses wish to convey and what does the blessed expect from it?

The answer is very simple. Growth. Movement from the present position to greater heights. ‘May you get good marks and stand first in the class,’ is what a young student would receive as his blessing from any elder. When that boy or girl reaches the school final, the phrase ‘first in the class’ would be replaced by ‘first in the State.’ And then when education is complete, the ‘aasi’ changes completely. ‘May you get a good job and be placed in a good position, receive the best salary.’ ‘May you be married to a good person,’ is the next stage. ‘May you beget lovely kids,’ is the next stage that follows. ‘May you be promoted and become the CEO,’ is perhaps the next stage.

But people are never satisfied with blessings. We have often seen many of us demanding the elder when touching his or her feet, to bless us for such-and-such specific positions of growth in life, for the days to come. Some times people demand, ‘Uncle, now that I am the CEO of this Company, bless me that I become the President of that Corporation, larger in size and financial standing.’ Unending and unchanging are the desires of growth and demands for blessings. There is nothing wrong in it. As far as we are blessed with elders who are only too ready to wish us the way we want them, the more blessed we are than ever!

The desire never ceases. ‘Bless my son with a green card!’ a sixty-five year old would ask for, when touching the feet of a seventy-year old and the seventy-year old would seek for the continuance of his pension benefits – with the Government toying with the idea of bringing about ‘economic reforms’. The desire never ends until the day of death. That keeps haunting the soul. The demand for growth and the desire for prosperity, more prosperity and still more prosperity.

Let’s now turn to the verse. Listen to what Janaki blesses Hanuman with. ‘paazhiya paNaith thOL vIra,’ O the warrior of muscular arms and shoulders! ‘thuNai ilEn parivu thIrththa vaazhiya vaLLalE!’ I have been lonely, unaided and remained unsupported for a long time. You have brought an end to all my woes. ‘yaan maru ilaa manththEn ennin,’ If at all I am sinless, unblemished, faultless, let my words come true. ‘Uzhi Or pagalaai Odhum yaaNdu elaam,’ Several million years make a day in the celestial calendar. ‘ulagam Ezhum Ezhum vIvutra gnandrum,’ even after the end of all the fourteen worlds, ‘indru ena iruththi,’ May you live as you are today.

‘If it is true that I am pure, then let this also come true. May you live long.’ But then, the significance is not in the blessing of longevity. Observe those words, ‘indru ena iruththi,’ May you live as you are today.

What is that you have not achieved? What is the height that you have not scaled? What is it that is impossible for you? What is that you need any more? You have reached the peak. You have reached the pinnacle in every single respect. Nothing is impossible for you. You are complete. You have everything in you. You are the embodiment of wisdom. You are the personification of valour. Everything that a person would desire to attain, resides in you. And therefore, I bless you with a long, long, long life, in the same state that you are today.

Who else, excepting Maruti, would be more appropriate to receive such a blessing?

Monkey’s proposal

She does not intend to hurt him. But his size and the puny form in which he appears leads her to think that his proposal is not proportionate to his ability.

Humility is the keynote around which Kamban has constructed the character of Hanuman. He portrays that quality without fail at every superhuman endeavour that Hanuman undertakes. If Hanuman jumps the sea or moves the mountain, he does so with the skill and strength of a titan, so naturally, without being conscious in the least of the great deed that he has completed just now. This is one of the striking changes that Kamban has woven into his composition of Hanuman. If he plucks up the hill and flies across the ocean, it is as effortless as our picking up the wallet and slipping it into the pocket. When it is done with such ease, where is the question of his being conscious of it or feel elated about it!

Taking a closer look at the work of Kamban, we are not able to find even the little self-conscious references that Maruti makes to himself in Valmiki Ramayana – either in thought or through spoken word – about his extraordinary strength, wisdom and out-of-this-world abilities. ‘I am not willing to return empty handed to my lord. O mother mine! Be seated on my back and let me take you to him,’ he pleads with Sita. ‘You are so small! How do you propose to carry me!’ asks an astonished Sita. ‘She does not know what I am,’ thinks Hanuman, in Valmiki Ramayana.

It is not only that. There is a tinge of mockery in the response of Sita. Listen to her. “How do you intend to take me, O Hanuman, to (such) a long distance from this place? ‘tadeva kalu te manyE kapitvam hariyu thapa.’ Indeed I look upon the aforesaid proposal (of yours) to be precisely monkey-like, O leader of monkey hordes!” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XXXVII, Sloka 30 – 31)

She does not intend to hurt him. But his size and the puny form in which he appears leads her to think that his proposal is not proportionate to his ability. ‘You truly speak like a monkey! You do not seem to think of the impossibility of your proposal. You are not more than half my height. You offer to carry me on your back. That in itself is a joke. Added to that, you propose to jump across the ocean, carrying me on your back!’ And then, she asks half-humorously, “How do you intend to take me from this place, diminutive of form that you are, to the presence of my royal husband, O jewel among monkeys?” (Ibid, Sloka 32)

Hanuman must have smiled. If that smile did not appear on his countenance, it surely shows through in the words that he utters to himself. “Hearing the question of Sita, the glorious Hanuman, son of the wind-god, thought it to be the first affront (of its kind) offered to him.” (Sloka 33) He was not offended but obviously, his pride was slighted. ‘She is not aware of what I am capable of,’ he thinks mischievously. ‘Here, let me stand before her in my viswa-rupa and let her know what this ‘little monkey’ means.’ “(He said to himself): “The dark-eyed lady does not know my strength nor my power. Let the princess of the Videha territory, therefore, behold the form that I can assume at will.” (Sloka 34)

Thinking thus, he leapt down from the branch on which he was perched and stood before her. He resembled the Mount Meru in a matter of seconds. Valmiki says, “The redoubtable monkey, who resembled a mountain had a coppery countenance with adamantine teeth and nails and was endowed with extraordinary might.” His form struck terror. But his words still carried the submissive tone. “(He) submitted as follows to Sita (a princess of Videha territory.) ‘There is capacity in me to carry this (entire city of) Lanka including its hills and woodlands as well as its market places, defensive walls and arches and with its (very) lord (Ravana). Therefore let your mind be settled O godlike lady, and have done with hesitation.” (Sloka 38)

‘If my present appearance is deceptive, look at this giant form of mine. I am can carry this entire city in one hand. Let peace prevail in your heart. Let all doubts in your heart be set at rest.’ Hanuman does sound modest; but he – out of sheer necessity – speaks of himself as a person who is conscious of his superiority. That is done only in consonance with the situation and it fits so nicely. Though the words may be considered to be somewhat boastful, the tone – which is the essence and true measure of the heart – is very modest and sincere.

Let us now see how Kamban makes a detour.

Limited by the sky

Humility is the sign of inner-strength. A person, whose self-esteem is strong, whose conviction is unshakeable, does not feel the necessity to speak about himself…

As we saw, the viswa-rupa of Anjaneya was triggered by what Sita told him endearingly, which at the same time carried a hint of mockery in it. If he grew up in size, it was not only to assure her and to put her mind at rest, but also in response to a taunt, however light it was. That was what made him think, “The dark-eyed lady does not know my strength nor my power. Let the princess of the Videha territory, therefore, behold the form that I can assume at will.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XXXVII, Sloka 34).

This very same scene has a slightly different flavour in Kamban. The event of Hanuman’s viswa-rupa is not triggered by the innocent little joke of Janaki. Kamban lets it happen in another way.

‘How is it possible for this monkey, so small in size, to have crossed the ocean?’ wonders Sita in her mind. She thinks in the conventional way. ‘He must have swum across the sea,’ is the only and natural impression that she gets. ‘How at all it is possible for this fellow to have done that extraordinary feat of swimming across the ocean?’ she is amazed. Listen to how she phrases her question. ‘ayya! nI aLapparum aLakkar nIndhinai eydhiyadhu ep parisu? Iyambuvai!’ Tell me my dear sir, how was it possible for you to reach here, swimming across the ocean? I am amazed.

And listen to the way he responds. ‘un oru thuNaivan thUya thaaL orungu udai uNarivinOr Oyyvu il maayayin perum kadal kadandhanar peyarum petri pOl’ ‘What I did was nothing. People who set their minds on the feet of your husband cross the ocean of births and deaths. I did the same thing and ‘karum kadal kadandhanan kaalinaal’ flew over the sea through the air. ‘There is nothing great about what I did. What is not possible for the devotees of Sri Rama? His devotees cross a greater ocean, the ocean of births and deaths, with ease. That being so, what is there to speak about my simple act?’

Humility is the sign of inner-strength. A person whose self-esteem is strong, whose conviction is unshakeable, does not feel the necessity to speak about himself nor is there any need for him to demonstrate or prove what he is capable of, in any manner. Measure the above portraiture of Hanuman against this thumb rule. The effect is just plain and obvious.

That answer took her by even greater surprise. ‘You flew across? What do you mean? ‘ithuNai siriyadhu oru eeN il yaakkayai.’ You look so small. ‘thaththinai kadal.’ Yet you jumped across the sea. ‘adhu thavaththin aayadhO?’ Have you performed severe penance in the past? Was it possible because of that? ‘sidhdhiyin iyandradhO?’ Or are you blessed with the ashta-maha-sidhdhi – the ability to perform the eight great feats?’

‘suttinan nindranan,’ says Kamban. I should let her know the true form that I assumed for that purpose, he decided. ‘thozhudha kaiyinan.’ He stood with joined palms. ‘vittu uyuar thOLinan.’ His shoulders kept scaling ever-greater heights, with his form growing taller and taller. ‘visumbin etta aru nedu mugadu eydha,’ He soon reached the dome of the sky, and was limited by it. ‘nILumEl muttum endru uruvodu vaLaindha mUrththiyaan,’ He stood before her with his back bent forwards. It was not only an expression of humility. He did so because there was no space left for him to stand straight!

Kamban’s sense of humour sparkles. He stood with joined palms and a bent back. He did so out of his respect for Janaki. But it also appeared that he did so because the sky limited his stature and he had to stand that way.

It is worth spending some time on the viswa-rupa of Anjaneya as painted by Kamban. Let’s now have a glimpse.

On the Universal Form

It is an awe-inspiring form that Valmiki speaks about. Vyasa shows a similar picture. Bhima, who went in search of the Saukandhika flower, meets Hanuman in the way

Ancient Tamil literature is replete with the descriptions of the Trivikrama avatar. Almost all of them tirelessly refer to those two ‘tiny feet’ that ultimately grew up to measure all the worlds in one-step and the skies with the next. ‘madiyila mannavan eydhum adi-aLandhaan thaayadhu ellaam orungu’ says the Thirukkural, “The king who never gives way to idleness will obtain entire possession of the space passed over by Him who measured (the worlds) with His foot.” (Translated by Rev. Drew & John Lazarus) ‘mU ulagum murai niramba vagai mudiya, thaaviya sEvadi sEppath thambiyodum kaan pOndhu,’ is how Silappadhikaaram rolls both the Trivikrama and Rama avatars in one simple stroke. ‘The feet that wandered the forests along with his younger brother, were the same that measured all the three worlds in two steps.’

The viswa-rupa of Anjaneya is spoken about in several places in the Ramayana. In fact, the first meeting of Rama with Hanuman – who came as the ambassador of Sugriva – ends with the latter assuming the Universal Form. This happens again when he is poised on the Mahendra Mountain, before his leap across the ocean. He does so again before Sita. We witness his doing the same again when he goes in search of the Sanjivi Parvata and later when he is asked to go to Bharata in Nandigrama, taking the message of Rama’s arrival. The later portions of Sundara Kanda and also the Yuddha Kanda refer to this form, many times.

Valmiki speaks vividly too, of Hanuman’s massive form in almost equal number of scenes. However, he does not speak of the viswa-rupa of Maruti during his first meeting with Rama. He stops with saying that Hanuman was in the form of an ascetic when they met. At the end of the meeting, Hanuman discarded that form and assumed his original form. bhikshu rUpam parityajya vAnaram rUpam AsthitaH. (Valmiki Ramayana, Kishkindha Kanda, Canto IV, Sloka 34) ‘Casting aside the form of the ascetic, he assumed his original monkey-form’, is the only mention that Valmiki makes about the change of forms that Hanuman assumed on that occasion.

However, at the end of the Kishkindha Kanda, when Hanuman assumes the massive-form, Valmiki says, “Pressed under the feet by that exalted soul, the huge mountain screamed (in the shape of the animals inhabiting it) like a mighty elephant in rut and attacked by a lion. That huge mountain released (new) springs of water, its masses of rocks getting disintegrated. The deer and elephants inhabiting it got alarmed and the giant trees standing on it violently shook.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Kishkindha Kanda, Canto LXVII, Sloka 43 and 44)

Valmiki speaks of his fierce form in the Sundara Kanda, when Hanuman stood before Janaki. “Hanuman (the foremost of monkeys) looked like Mount Meru or Mount Mandara and stood in front of Sita, shining brightly like a blazing fire. The redoubtable monkey, who resembled a mountain, had coppery countenance with adamantine teeth and nails and was endowed with extraordinary might.” (Ibid, Sundara Kanda, Canto XXXVII, Sloka 37 and 38)

It is an awe-inspiring form that Valmiki speaks about. Vyasa shows a similar picture. Bhima, who went in search of the Saukandhika flower, meets Hanuman in the way and as desired by him Hanuman grows taller, to an extent. ‘Bhima, it is not possible for all to perceive me in this form. I am limiting myself to your ability,’ he tells Bhima. Bhima was not only thrilled; but also frightened, says Vyasa. ‘Please stop there brother! I am afraid and would not be able to look at you if you grow taller than this,’ Bhima pleads. ‘I would assume an even fiercer form,’ Hanuman tells him, ‘when I stand in the midst of enemies.’

The dimension that Kamban gives to the viswa-rupa of Hanuman is quite different. His poetry creates images that are not only awe-inspiring, but also pleasing – especially so when he assumed the form before Rama and again before Sita.

It is not without reason that we began this instalment with a reference to Trivikrama. With the above background in mind, let us go into Kamban’s portraiture.

The Lord and the devotee

A curious scene indeed. The reverse of the viswa rupa dharashan that Arjuna had of Lord Krishna.

As we had occasion to mention earlier (See: The Natural and the Supernatural) the hero of Ramayana identifies himself as a human being and nothing more. All the supernatural powers that would normally be vested in the main character are seen in others that serve him and the hero manifests none. The Supreme does not show any sign of his being conscious of what He actually is throughout until the very last scene, while almost all the others around him – that includes the demons like Kumbakarna and Indrajit who stood against him – recognise this fact. With the exception of sages like Vasistha, Viswamitra, Agastya and others like them, we can safely conclude that Hanuman was the first one – among the allies and also the evil forces – to recognise the fact that Sri Rama is none other than the Supreme, though Rama and Lakshmana speak to him in the strain of very ordinary mortals.

Kamban’s Hanuman prostrates before Sri Rama during the first meeting. ‘No,’ objects Rama. ‘You are a Vedic scholar. ‘thagaadha seydhadhu enna?’ How can you do a thing that is not proper for people of your stature? ‘dharumam andraal.’ It is not right for scholars to prostrate before persons like me. ‘aaziyaay!’ answers Hanuman. The address is a pun. It may mean an emperor, or the One who wields the Disc. Hanuman has identified the truth. ‘What I have done is proper. I am a monkey in reality,’ he says and assumes his real form. That simple form of a monkey grew up into a massive mountain quickly.

Kamban weaves his word magic. ‘kaNdilan ulgam mUndrum kaalinaal kadandhu koNda puNdarIgak kaN aazhip puravalan,’ he wonders at the massive form. Hanuman grew up so high that Rama could not see his face. ‘Remember’, Kamban says. ‘This was the same One who measured the earth and the sky in two steps’. A curious scene indeed. The reverse of the viswa rupa dharashan that Arjuna had of Lord Krishna. The Lord stood innocently before his devotee, here.

It was not the all-encompassing Universal form that Krishna revealed to Arjuna. The Lord here who enjoys the manifestation of the immense form of his devotee, who is to be celebrated as His ‘siriya thiruvadi,’ or the ‘junior carrier’ coming next to Garuda in the order of importance. There are clear differences between the all-encompassing Universal form of Krishna and the way Hanuman is depicted. I do not propose to go into the intricacies now. We will see them later in our study of Rama.

Hanuman did so with complete sense of respect and devotion to his Lord, fully conscious of the fact that it is the Supreme One who stands there holding the bow and the arrows. That Hanuman has realised the Truth at this point of time is abundantly clear from what he tells Sugriva in the following scene. ‘I know that he is the Ultimate,’ he would declare. ‘sanku chakkarak kuri uLa, thadakkayil thaaLil,’ he would tell the Vanara chief. ‘I have seen the Conch and the Disc insignia on His hands and feet. There need be no further proof.’

The Poet so very carefully handles the situation. We see every single one who happens to witness this massive form of Hanuman, plead with him to assume his ordinary from again. It is not so with Sri Rama. Kamban draws our attention to the pleased smile of Rama when he turns to Lakshmana. ‘naat padaa maraigaLaalum, navai ilaa gnaaththalum kOt padaap padhamE ayya, kurakku uruk koNdadhu, endraan.’ Lakshmana, know him to be the very embodiment of untainted Wisdom distilled from the Timeless Vedas. He is the personification of Wisdom that walks in the form of a monkey.

The total effect of the form is subdued and mellowed with the complete consciousness of the Person who stands witnessing the event. Let us now move to Sundara Kanda, with Sita witnessing this very same form.

Galaxies as fireflies

The Poet has moved his brush rather quickly when that happened in the presence of Sri Rama. He does not detail the appearance of Anjaneya there and stops with saying that he appeared so massive that it was not possible even for Rama look at his face, because of the enormity of the size. That form might have been the equivalent of Valmiki’s description when he said that he resembled Mount Meru.

The form that Hanuman has assumed before Janaki now in the Sundara Kanda seems to be more massive than the one that the Poet depicted earlier in the Kishkindha Kanda. The vision that Kamban must have had of this moment in the epic should have been mind-boggling. His poetry creates rich and vivid images in the minds of the reader. One who knows epic poetry, one who is able to distinguish between mere verbiage and excellence of expression knows for certain that such detailed portraiture would not be possible unless the Poet had had a vision before his inner-eye, of the event, several times more vivid and more elaborate than what is depicted through his verses.

We have seen the beautiful beginning of that picture of Hanuman standing with a slouch and Kamban’s description of that posture. (See: Limited by the Sky) That’s only a beginning. He moves ahead with a series of images that would challenge the brush of the best of painters.

Recall the picture again. He is standing there with joined palms, with a stoop. His head and is virtually touching the dome of the sky. The clouds must have been somewhere around the knees. ‘minminik kulam moyththu uLavaam ena munnum pinnarum thoththina thaaragai mayirin sutru elaam.’ The grandest of all images, I should say. With Hanuman standing so tall, the galaxies surrounded his head and stars floated through the strands of hair. And my god! The simile that he employs to enable ordinary minds to have a glimpse of that vision! ‘The stars surrounded his hair, even as fireflies surround the tallest of trees that has grown on Mount Meru.’

Stirring the soul, lifting it far above the frontiers that are known to it and letting it float at least for a while in exhilaration, enraptured in silent amazement. That is what epic poetry does to the ordinary soul whose existence turns colourless and even visionless by the mundane ways it is subjected to every other day.

Janaki’s mind was restored to peace and confidence at that sight. She realised the enormous force that stood by Sri Rama. She knew what this would mean to the immeasurable valour of her husband. Kamban

It is not my job

You might remember the wayside mechanic who serviced your two-wheeler the other day. There was some problem in the carburettor. He opened it, carefully cleaned the insides and assembled it. You notice that dust and grime has formed around the outer case and other surrounding parts. You also notice that the mechanic is ‘completely and consciously unaware’ of it. He would not even think of wiping the dust with a piece of cloth. His job ends with cleaning the carburettor. That’s all. He is not willing to move even the little finger to proceed to the next step. He is paid to do this job and not that. It is as simple as that.

That is the attitude of almost all of us. That attitude is not limited just to that roadside mechanic. It applies to almost all of us. When an assignment is given, it is done, yes. It is done only to that extent which the situation demands. Not a step more. We want to quickly ‘complete’ the job and move away from it, early. ‘My job is over here,’ is the maha-vakya that guides most of us. I do not say every one of us. Most of us. My observation is limited to qualities and attitudes. It does not go beyond that and discuss the right or wrong of it.

That is where Hanuman differs. He was assigned – in fact, his team was assigned – the job of spotting Sita. They were supposed to bring information on her whereabouts. There ends the job. Anyone would have done that. Leap to the other side of the sea. Sieve through the island. Find her out. Okay. I have completed this superhuman task and what more do you expect of me? My job ends here and I leap back to the mainland and tell you that the job has been successfully completed and that she is in such-and-such location and in such-and-such condition. Would someone be able to find fault with my job, if I did that? Would Rama have criticised him, if Hanuman stopped there? Would Sugriva be upset if Hanuman returned on seeing her in the Asoka Vana? As far as Hanuman is concerned, his job ends with spotting her.

But Ramayana would have been no Ramayana, had he stopped there! It is the attitude of the leader. A leader does not wait until he is told. And, a leader is not merely the one who leads. Hanuman was not a leader by function. It cannot be denied that he led great hordes of Vanaras in the battle. That is a different story. But he had always played a secondary role everywhere. Even here, in the assignment of sifting the earth on the south, he had accepted the leadership of Angada. The team that went south was led by Angada and not by Hanuman. When playing a subservient role, it is far, far easier to ‘pass the buck’ to the leader-by-function.

Hanuman was a leader-by-quality. He accepts responsibility very gladly. He keeps looking for additional responsibilities that come up in the way. He decides what is to be done and what is not to be done, quickly. If he decided on stopping Sita from what she intended, if he decided to start an unprovoked battle and kill detachments of ogres, if he decided to leave indelible marks of his visit on the country of Lanka, meet Ravana and speak on behalf of Rama, he did every single one of it on his own. He was not told to do this-and-this-and-this. He was a self-appointed counsellor, self-appointed one-man-army, self-appointed ambassador et al, on that day. Remember, all that happens in Sundara Kanda takes place in a matter of just twenty-four hours.

And more. If his wisdom made him take quick decisions on several things, that wisdom also guided him against making hasty decisions. Thrice on that night was he impelled to kill Ravana on that very spot. But he stopped himself. ‘It is not my job,’ he told himself. ‘It is for Rama to do.’

However, there was a job that he attempted to take up on himself that night. Janaki stopped him from doing so. ‘It is for Rama to do that,’ she told him. ‘I would not allow that role to be played by anyone else. I am capable of doing that myself. But I will not. If at all I am waiting all these months patiently here, it is only due to the fact that that job belongs to Rama and nobody else.’

Let this be my job

There is no purpose in leaving her back, making her undergo the kind of torture that I witnessed just now. She should not be left here any more…

‘What stops me from killing this fellow here and now,’ was the thought that filled Hanuman’s mind when Ravana was speaking to Vaidehi and was begging for her love. He could not contain himself, hearing the nauseating description of her limbs that Ravana indulged in, in his presence. ‘ennai aaLudai naayagan dhEviyai en mun sonna nIsan kai thodu mun,’ This scum dared speaking such words to the consort of my Lord, who has me as his slave. Before he attempts to touch her (not knowing I am here) ‘thugaiththu, uzhakki,’ I will mash him into a mass of meat.’ This was a moment’s impulse because he was angered at the way Ravana behaved. ‘She is the consort of my Lord and I am their slave. I cannot let this happen in my presence.’

The next thought that occurred to him was to kick all the ten heads apart. ‘thaniyan nindranan.’ He is alone here. ‘thalai paththum kadidhu ugath thaaki,’ Let me, with my kicks, quickly make those ten heads drop and roll on the ground. ‘paniyin vElayil ilangayaik kIzh urap paaychi,’ and then turn this island upside down into the sea, ‘punidha maathavaththu aNanginaich chumandhanen pOven’ and leave this place, carrying the hallowed Lady of sacred penance to the presence of Rama.

But that was a time when Vaidehi was not aware of the fact that Hanuman has come from Rama. He might succeed in killing Ravana. But there is no guarantee that Sita would trust him. She might as well think that here is another demon that fought with the old demon and that she is going to be imprisoned by another ogre in another place. Hanuman pacified himself because of the possible and inherent dangers in the situation. He restrained himself because he had not yet established his credentials with Sita.

Earlier too, when searching for Janaki in the palace of Ravana and when entering his bedchamber to find a sleeping Ravana, Hanuman’s rage went high and uncontainable. He thought of squeezing and squashing all the ten heads in one go, even when Ravana was in deep slumber. ‘nEmiyaan paNi andraal,’ he restrained himself at that time. ‘This was not the job that Rama assigned to me.’ ‘ondru Ukki, ondru izhaiththal uNarvu udamaikku uriththu andru,’ It is not part of wisdom to do something when one is required to do something else. I was sent here to find the whereabouts of Janaki. That is my first priority. I should not do things that are not expected of me. More over, I have no right to kill him until my first job is completed.’

Hanuman’s mind was already set on taking her back to Rama by himself. He could not wait for anything. ‘There is no purpose in leaving her back, making her undergo the kind of torture that I witnessed just now. She should not be left here any more, alone and unprotected. Let me take her back and put an end to all sufferings of my Lord and His Lady as well. When it is as simple as this, why should I not make that attempt?’

Motivated thus, he submitted, “Lo, bearing you (on my back), O princess of Videha territory, I shall undoubtedly return through space precisely as I came here.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XXXVII, Sloka 29)

I came here looking for you, silently and unobserved. I will leave from this place, taking you with me, silently and unobserved. Let me do this. Please permit me doing this. ‘ilangayodum Egudhi kol enninum,’ Even if you desire me to pluck this island from its roots and carry you with it, ‘idandhu,’ I would pluck it, ‘en valamkoL oru kaith thalayil vaiththu,’ would take it in just one palm of my powerful arms, ‘edhir thaduppaan vilanginari nUri,’ would kill all those who try to stop me, ‘vari vem silayinOr tham polam kOL kazhal thaazguven,’ and would pay my respects at the feet of those two Bowmen, safely taking you to them.

That is a plausible step. That would avoid lots of trouble. That would obviate the necessity of a war. Even if Ravana and his men pursue, they can be killed in the mainland and the trouble of facing the enemy in his own land would be eliminated. Sita would be lodged safely back with Rama. The main issue having been solved, the purpose of war would then be defensive and not offensive.

But what did Vaidehi say? She knows her Rama. She would not let that happen. Or was it that since Rama knew her heart, he would consider it his responsibility to secure her liberty and would not leave it to others? Both. They knew each other so very well, is it not?

Unassisted you are

You need a companion in your endeavours. A person needs the assistance of another, however able he be of performing a task all alone.

‘It does not need any more arguments, my mother. Here, step on my shoulders this moment!’ Maruti kneeled and bent before her in order that she might climb his shoulders. She looked at him with a smile. The gentle and proud smile of a mother, listening to her child. ‘thaayai munniya kandru anayaan thanakku,’ To that Hanuman who stood like the young calf looking at its mother eagerly, she said, ‘aaya thanmai ariyadhu andraal,’ it is not impossible for you. I know you will be able to do that. I am now convinced that you can perform impossible deeds. I know that you are not making tall claims.’

Her words sound very gentle and prepare him for the disappointment that is to come. She is preparing him to accept her refusal. ‘The trouble is with me,’ she puts it to him, drawing his attention to the many possibilities. “My going with you, however, O jewel among monkeys, is not proper. Your speed, which is equal to that of the wind, may render me unconscious. Besides, stuck to space, even as you sweep with speed all over the sea, I may actually tumble down from your back. Nay, fallen insensible into the sea, teeming with sharks, crocodiles and giant fish, I may become the excellent food of aquatic creatures.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XXXVII, Sloka 45 – 47)

‘It is not that you are incapable of doing this. But consider me. I may not be strong enough to withstand the effects of your speed. I may go unconscious. I may even fall from your back when you are crossing the ocean. That would defeat your purpose.’ A very good, sound and valid reason indeed. If Hanuman is celebrated as ‘sollin selvan’ and if Rama is praised as ‘vakta vachaspati’, referring to their communication skills, she is equally gifted in that art. Now, Hanuman may say that he would limit his speed. She wards off that argument even before it arises.

‘vElayin idayE vandhu meyyavar kOli ninnodum venjaram kOththa pOdhu,’ When you thus leave this place with me, would it go unnoticed? Would these ogres not realise that I am missing? Would they not follow you, flying as you are in the open space and could be spotted with ease? They would pursue with bows and arrows, and that would result in a battle in the midair. ‘aalam annavarkku allai, erkku allayaal,’ you will not be able to pay attention because you will have to divide your attention between two completely different tasks. The situation would demand your fighting with them and protecting me at the same time. And that would be a time when we are crossing the sea. ‘saalavum thadumaarum thanimayOi,’ Your attention would be pulled in opposite directions and you would not be able to give your attention to fighting a complete detachment of ogres and at the same time ensure that I do not slip down from your back. Because, you are alone.

You are alone. ‘thanimayOi.’ That is the point. That single word expresses almost all that is required to convince Hanuman of the situation. Unsaid, yet completely expressed. What does that imply? You are unparalleled in skills, strength, courage, the martial art. You can change your size in a matter of seconds. You are very quick and you have everything in you to perform what is not at all possible for anyone else. But not all tasks are similar in nature. You need a companion in your endeavours. A person needs the assistance of another, however able he be of performing a task all alone.

If there is someone with you to take care of me, you can assign the job of taking care of my security to him and fight the enemy yourself or you may dodge them, carrying me, letting the other person handle the situation. Despite the personal ability of any person, the work in hand almost always demands the assistance of another. And that is why Rama who is capable of securing my liberty himself has sought your ally, is that not so?

Valmiki puts it in a similar strain. “Surrounded by the heroic ogres carrying darts and clubs in their hands, and accompanied by a lady in me, you will fall into danger. There will be numerous ogres equipped with arms in space; how (then) will you be able to fight them, as also to protect me, unarmed that you are? Stricken with fear, O jewel among monkeys, I may then fall down from your back while you are contending with those ogres of cruel deeds.” (Ibid, Sloka 50 – 52)

It is not limited only to my safety and your ability to taking care of the situation. You may succeed in your attempt. But have you considered this?

sollinaal suduvEn…

I know you would challenge the fellow, fight with him and kill him with bare hands. You are capable of it. But, Maruti, I am capable of that too!

‘Let us assume that despite all odds, you are able to take me back and reach the presence of Sri Rama. He would of course be happy about it. But do you realise that we would then be denying him an opportunity to avenge for what has happened? He has to come here. He has to fight the evil. He has to kill this fellow and take me back. It is therefore not right for me to go with you to his presence. You bring him here along with all the monkey forces, instead of taking me there. That will be more appropriate.’

‘I know what he would do. I have seen him in action. I have seen him killing countless ogres effortlessly. “Therefore O jewel among monkeys, bring here with all speed my beloved lord along with Lakshmana and the leaders of monkey hordes. Bring joy to me, O gallant monkey, emaciated (as I am) through grief for long on account of Sri Rama.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Sundara Kanda, Canto XXXVII, Sloka 68)

Suddenly her anger picks up. She surprises us by a Panchali-like fury. Her anger was manifest until now only in the presence of Ravana. She had not shown it even to the demonesses guarding her, even under extreme provocation and harassment. She had felt helpless and had even wept at such times, to be pacified by Trijata. But, for the first time we see her expressing herself strongly when Ravana is not present.

‘It is not merely sufficient to return to my Lord, Maruti. When I return, I should do so with all honour, my anger having been quenched. ‘koNda pOril,’ In the war that is to ensue, ‘em kotravan vil thozhil aNdar evarum nOkka,’ ‘let all in the Universe witness the skill in archery of my Lord’. The structure of the verse naturally allows a pause, letting us know the pent up fury getting released and her voice choking and trembling. ‘en aakkayaik kaNda vaaL arakkan vizhi, kaagangaL unda pOdhu andri,’ Unless crows peck at those twenty eyes of this fellow that cast a lustful glance on my body, ‘yaan uLan aavenO?’ would there be a purpose behind my survival?

He claims himself to be the terror of the universe. When the arrows of Rama kick his heads apart and make him fall down, even crows would not be afraid of him any more and would peck at his eyes for a good meal. My heart would not be at rest, my anger would not subside, my existence would not find its fulfilment unless that happens.

‘You may say that you would do it for me right now. I know you would challenge the fellow, fight with him and kill him with bare hands. You are capable of it. But, Maruti, I am capable of that too! I can – if at all I set my mind on it – turn him to ashes. If I am suffering silently, if I am undergoing this torture for such a long time, if I am waiting here patiently, it is not because I am incapable of handling the situation myself and go back to my Lord.’

‘allal maakkaL ilangayadhu aagumO?’ This Lanka, populated by the race of people whose mind is given to cruelty, is rather too small for me. ‘ellai nIththa ulagangaL yaavum en sollinaal suduvEn’ I will set this Universe, all its vast, immeasurable expanse ablaze, with a single word of mine. The entire Universe will turn to ashes in no time if I pronounce my curse. But I have not done so. I have spared this fellow, this long. I have restrained myself from vanquishing this lecher, this scum who has no values, who is not ashamed of setting his mind on another man’s wife, not because it is not within my power to do so.

You know why I am restraining myself? ‘adhu, thUyavan villin aatrarkku maasu ena vIsinEn.’ I did not do so. I threw that thought away from my mind, because if I do it and secure my liberty myself, it would affect his name. It would bring disrepute to him. He would be looked at as a person who did not act in time to protect his wife. I want the entire credit of protecting me to go to him. I cannot think of spoiling his name.

Mother! O mother mine! You make tears roll down my cheeks. You make my heart feel intensely for you with veneration, devotion and pride at your stance. If Rama’s arrows were powered by his skill, power and chivalry, you were the string of his massive bow that kicked his arrows into action, silently.

She has more reasons for not returning with Hanuman.

Means and ends

‘There is one more aspect that is to be considered as a matter of principle. While the act of my returning is important, the manner in which it is done is also equally important. My returning with you, stealthily and unnoticed, would it not stain the fair name of Sri Rama?’ ‘andriyum piridhu uLLadhu ondru.’ There is another aspect to for us to consider. ‘aariyan vendri vem silai maasurum.’ It will cause a slur on the gallantry of Rama. ‘vEru nandri enbadhu ini en?’ What is the right thing that remains to be done now?

She raises that question but does not give a direct answer. ‘vanjiththa naaigaLin nindra vanjanai nIyum ninaithaayO?’ Is it right, appropriate or proper for you to think in the lines of the dogs that took to deceptive means? Powerful is that short phrase. It raises a very fundamental question. ‘Do ends justify means?’

We know that this age old question has been around the corner ever since the beginning of civilised existence. It has been answered differently in different contexts. The Mahabharata presents us with many incidents that strengthen the case for the stance, ‘ends do justify means’. That is to say, one need not worry too much about the manner in which a thing is done, if the result is right. But we also see in other places that it is not enough if the ends are right; the means adopted should also be equally right and proper. The answer varies, depending on the context. It depends on the urgency of obtaining the result and on the situation also. The answer therefore is context-sensitive.

Vaidehi prefers to stand by the dictum that the means should also be right. Listen to her question again. ‘vanjiththa naaigaLin nindra vanjanai nIyum ninaithaayO?’ It is for the dogs to adopt deceptive means to attain the ends. When I was brought here, Ravana deceived me. He gained entry into our parnasala in the guise of a mendicant. He sent a deceptive deer in advance to take my husband and also Lakshmana away. He took me away in their absence. Neither the means were right nor was the end right.

In my going back with you, however, the ends are right. But that doesn’t matter. I am the wife of Sri Rama. I won’t adopt the same manner that that dog adopted. Yes. I was brought here through deception, with nobody around to challenge his action, stop him from his intention. The stiff and valiant resistance that Jatayu offered turned futile because of his age. I came here unnoticed. But I will not return from here unnoticed. If that ogre adopted stealth for bringing me, you should not think in the same lines to take me back stealthily. Let those ‘vanjiththa naaigal’ – dogs of deception – adopt whatever way they want to. It is not for us to follow. The whole world should witness my return. And, it should be secured by none other than Sri Rama. The end is of course right. The means should also be right.

Let me reiterate that this answer, this stance of Vaidehi, is context-sensitive. This would be elaborated later in relevant instances.

These are her arguments, thus far, that we have seen from Valmiki as well as from Kamban, to convince Hanuman against his proposal. ‘I may not be able to withstand your speed,’ is an argument for a start in Valmiki, which Kamban has not included in his version. ‘We will be pursued and you will be pushed into a tight corner,’ is the next argument, which Kamban adopts. Kamban walks the footsteps of Valmiki when he advances the same arguments of Valmiki and elaborates on what the latter has to say on the question of doing nothing that would mar the fair name of Sri Rama. In fact Kamban elaborates this point and what we have seen above is a very beautiful addition, contributed by Kamban.

And then one more thing remains. You are a man. My modesty would not allow me to touch any man other than Rama.

It sounds somewhat rude, when her stance is written in two lines. But she sounds very reasonable and takes care not to hurt the feelings of Maruti, when she presents this idea. We will see that presently.

More over, though the argument is the same, the Poets advance it from totally differing contexts, differing angles and differing backdrops. Given the context that Kamban has moved away from Valmiki in his narration about the manner in which Ravana brought Vaidehi to Lanka, the way Valmiki develops this argument cannot be fitted into Kamban’s version. He treats it differently, as usual, in his own way.

Hari Krishnan