Companion in Dharma

Let us be fair and put ourselves in his place and ask: ‘Do I have the patience that Rama had when his wife held a different point of view and expressed it?

‘I hold Truth above all, you, Lakshmana and my own life.’ It was this preference to Truth – from the way he viewed Truth, though most of us are not able to see eye to eye with him on this particular matter – that pushed him into taking the most difficult and painful decision of his life. But before blaming Rama of ‘suspicion’ that led to Agni Pravesa and other incidents in the Uttara Kanda – it is too early to go into that question – let us be fair and put ourselves in his place and ask: ‘Do I have the patience that Rama had when his wife held a different point of view and expressed it? Do I listen to her when she is apprehensive about my steps? Do I see her point? Do I try to convince her, if I have a valid reason for pursuing my way? Do I recognise at all, the fact that there is nothing in my life that she cannot know, discuss, or even advise me against?’ Kudos to you if you can answer these questions in the affirmative.

I can sense a smile over there. To quote Srinivasa Sastriyar, “You may sometimes be so obedient to your wives that you follow even their wrong doings. I am not thinking of that. I am thinking of relations established upon a proper basis between husband and wife, where each respects the other’s province but knows also when a solemn warning may be necessary. Our business in life is not so distinguishable from our wives’ business that we should not consult them and be guided by them at all.”

‘I am happy about what you said,’ says Rama. “O Sita, I fully pleased. For a person is never advised unless he is dear. And it is becoming and proper not only for you but for your family too, O beautiful lady. sadharma caariNii me tvam praaNebhyo api gariiyasii. You are dearer to me even than life, being my companion in Dharma.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto X, Sloka 21)

‘Dharma is my pursuit. And you are my companion in that pursuit. You are loftier than me and make my life loftier.’ Mutual trust and mutual respect and moving towards one goal, hand in hand. Is this not what Ramayana holds for our personal lives? Is this not the pursuit that the divine couple stood for and have exemplified by their life to us?

Once again I quote from the silver-tongued orator. “You may do this and you may not do that. That is left to you. But do not go and justify it upon the ground that a wife is inferior in status, that she is there to do some slave duties. ‘She may keep the dhobi’s accounts but nothing more.’ To say that is not proper. It is certainly not sanctioned by the liberty that Rama gave to Sita. In such an important matter as an alliance with the Rishis of the forest, which was likely to lead him into trouble, how could Rama have said to you, ‘You do not know these things. Keep quiet.’ He allowed her to speak, and even though he did not follow her counsel, he told her she was right to give him a warning, that it was her duty to do so and that it was fitting when her family and his family were taken into consideration.”

Let her play her role in our lives, completely. There is no denying the fact that she has the responsibility to look at things in the proper perspective. But then, that responsibility rests on both. Each has his and her parts to play and each has that responsibility. Her voice needs to be heard, to be respected and has to be given its proper place in life. I cannot pooh-pooh her into silence in such circumstances. As Sastriyar rightly says, “It is certainly not sanctioned by the liberty that Rama gave to Sita.”

Blessed indeed I am, if I am able to learn this much from the life of Rama.

The story of Dandaka

The family was firm in its pursuit of Dharma and upholding righteousness. They had no place for freaks and eccentrics like Asamanja and Danda.

Because they are idolised as the ideal man and an exemplary woman, and as the embodiments of virtues, most of us tend to think that they led a monotonous life. Rama is perceived as a serious looking person, incapable of a joke. I wish to emphasise once again that their life had all the flavours and shades of any average person. There were moments of pleasure, humour, frolicking and fun and they went through all the troubles, travails and turmoil like any one of us. There were moments of darkness, moments of panic, helplessness et al through which they went. The difference lies in the manner in which they encountered the situations and came through them, though it cannot be denied the panic and pain that the Poets have described are no different from what we undergo.

The Viradha episode is one such incident. This takes place when Rama enters the forest of Dandaka, much before the sages approached Rama, seeking his protection. There is a story about the Dandaka Forest. It is a deserted forest, though a part of the kingdom of Ayodhya. It is said that Danda, the youngest son of Ikshvaku, by whose name the lineage of Rama is known (apart from other kings in the ancestry of Rama, like Kakusta, Raghu etc.) was a rogue in the family and the king used to receive complaints about his son, Danda.

There was another case of a similar delinquent, Asamanja, who indulged in killing children by throwing them alive in ponds and rode amuck among people and slaying them at will and took delight in such other sadistic ways. The family was firm in its pursuit of Dharma and upholding righteousness. They had no place for freaks and eccentrics like Asamanja and Danda. As in the case of Asamanja, Ikshvaku decided to send this vermin of a son away and Danda was banished to the jungles.

Danda was enterprising, nonetheless. He built his own kingdom in the Vindhya mountain range. The kingdom was known by the name Madhumanta. But his qualities remained unchanged. He developed friendship with demons that roamed about in the mountain range and through them, he happened to meet Shukracharya, the Guru of asuras. He became the disciple of Shukracharya. Danda, already a demon by qualities and surrounded by demons for his friends did not have respect of values.

It so happened that he visited the hermitage of his Guru, Shukracharya. The master was not there in the hermitage. Danda saw Araja, the daughter of Shukracharya, and was tempted by her beauty and took her by force. When the master came to know what had happened, he cursed the king and his kingdom. Mud storm raged for seven consecutive days and Madhumanta, the kingdom that Danda built, submerged under mud. This portion of land that was thus destroyed later became the dense jungle of Dandaka-aranya. The forest of Danda.

The people of Madhumanta fled to a safer place when the storm raged by the curse of Shukracharya, and settled down, was known as Janasthana, which was far away on the south, from the forest of Dandaka. Now, this was the outpost of Ravana. Ravana had appointed Khara and Dhusana – sons of his paternal uncle – to hold fort on his behalf, in the mainland. This was the place that was infested with demons and ogres. As we have seen when we discussed Ravana, demons were of different kinds and one of them is the race of asuras. There was another kind demons. They were not demons by birth. They were cursed to become so.

Viradha was one such demon.

Viradha

The name Viradha is interpreted as vi-raadha, ‘devoid of love.’ According to another version of the story, he was a worshipper of Lakshmi…

Viradha was a Gandharva and was known as Tumburu, who served Kubera. He took a fancy for Rambha, the celestial nymph and failed in his duties. Kubera cursed him and it was by his curse that Tumburu turned into an ogre. The Poets vie with one another in describing the terror-striking appearance of Viradha, as he appeared before the three, when they entered Dandakaranya, paid their obeisance to the sages, which was described in Unstringing the Bow.

The name Viradha is interpreted as vi-raadha, ‘devoid of love.’ According to another version of the story, he was a worshipper of Lakshmi when he was a Gandharva. Scholars come out with various theories, taking this into account and attribute different motives and purposes for the desires expressed by Viradha in regard to Sita, who is the incarnation of Mahalakshmi. That may satisfy the predilection for the esoteric. People manage to find hidden and inner meaning in anything and everything.

But what the Poets describe is very simple. They do not even remotely suggest the complex stories to explain the threat by which Viradha demanded the brothers to leave Sita with him as his wife. He is a wanderer of the forest. He took a fancy for Sita even as the three entered the jungle and tried to take possession of her. The brothers were angered and killed him. There ends the matter. And how they faced the demon, how they reacted and how Sita, who for the very first time in her life comes across a demon, and is grabbed by him, is overcome by varying and quick changing emotions, makes the story. There is no need to attribute ‘divine’ motives to a demon who is under the spell of a curse and is in fact not aware of the fact that he is facing the very Rama, by whose hands the spell was to be broken. Here, take a look at the massive form of Viradha as Valmiki puts it.

“Rama (a descendent of Kakutstha) together with Sita saw in that forest full of wild animals a dreadful man-eating ogre of terrific voice, looking like a mountain peak, having deep eyes, a huge mouth, a fierce belly, despicable, uneven, tall, abnormal, presenting a terrible sight, wearing a tiger’s skin wet with fat and sprinkled with blood, molesting al beings, resembling the god of death with his mouth wide open, tying three lions, four tigers, two wolves, ten spotted deer and the big head of an elephant with tusks and wet with fat to an iron lance, and roaring in a terrific voice.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto II, Sloka 4 – 8)

This fellow seems to have had an appetite that could never be appeased and carried ‘a store of food’ – bodies of animals that he killed – on his lance. Kamban, who is very fond of the gothic, soars high in his flight of imagination. And, here is his description of the very same lance of Viradha.

‘ettodu ettu madha maa kari,’ sixteen elephants, ‘iratti arimaa’ thirty-two lions, ‘vatta vengaN aaLi padhinaaru’ and sixteen Yali – the legendary animal with the body of a lion and the trunk of an elephant – ‘kitta ittu idai kidandhana serindhadhu or kai thotta muththalai ayil’ were tied closely – like a string of flowers! – on his lance that he carried in one hand. From the continuing description, we understand that Viradha had used a python to string all the animals to his lance, as if he had decorated it with a string of flowers! And he carried them ever so lightly, in one hand.

A ghastly sight indeed! At least Rama and Lakshmana had guarded the Yaga of Viswamitra and have seen, encountered, fought with and killed demons of various shapes and sizes. What about Janaki! She has not seen any of them until this point of time!

Two men, in the garb of sages wielding weapons and in the company of a woman looked quite incongruous to Viradha. What a combination, he thought. The garb of a hermit, the tool of a warrior and the company of a woman. He laughed like thunder.

Satan quoting the scripture

‘You have the outward appearance of the sages. Your hair is matted. You are wearing the hermit’s weeds. But why are you carrying weapons?

It is not unusual in the world to see people who are themselves steeped in unrighteousness, walking about with their index finger always pointing at anyone and everyone – especially those who are respected by the society – ready to pick out the least little flaw – without going into an assessment of what they consider to be a flaw, is a flaw in the first instance. Proclaimed atheists are obsessed with the desire to ‘expose’ the ‘unholiness’ in the ‘holy’, chide everyone for superstition of one kind blindly following the baseless beliefs of another kind. This has been the way of the world, it seems, right from the beginning.

Viradha, who had nothing to do with whatever that goes with the name of Dharma, seemed to be worried about righteousness, all of a sudden. But the first thing he did, before he opened his mouth to question Rama and Lakshmana was the very pinnacle of all evil. aNkena aadaaya vaidehiim apakramya tadaa abraviit| He grabbed Vaidehi by the hand and moved away to some distance. (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto II, Sloka 10) After taking her away, he turned to the brothers and questioned:

“You two having matted hair and wearing a bark-garment, and still having a wife with you, with your life coming to an end, have entered the Dandaka forest taking arrows, bow and sword in your hands. Again, how are you two ascetics staying with a woman?” (Ibid, 10 and 11)

‘You have the outward appearance of the sages. Your hair is matted. You are wearing the hermit’s weeds. But why are you carrying weapons? What place has it in the life of a sage? And how saintly can you be, considering the fact that there is a woman with you! How come you two are living with a woman! How can you do this!’

Viradha exhibits the same kind of ‘predilection for justice’ that those who with unabashed enthusiasm tread the path of impiety. “Who are you two sinners, doing unrighteous deeds, bringing a blot upon the sages? Armed with weapons, I, an ogre named Viradha, always wander in this forest, which is difficult of access, eating the flesh of sages. This beautiful lady will become my wife and I shall drink the blood of you two sinners on the battlefield.” (Ibid, Sloka 12 and 13)

‘I am an ogre by name Viradha. I go about killing sages. You two, who are in the garb of saintly persons, do not seem to have even elementary knowledge of the way of life of a saint, which I have! Number one, you are violating the laws by carrying weapons with you! Number two, you have a woman with you! I have no doubt you are sinners in the disguise of saints!’

In the court of Viradha, the enquiry is conducted and concluded rather too quickly! It is sinful for a sage to carry weapons. And these two have exceeded the limits by living with a woman, thereby becoming a blot on all the sages! See who is worried about this ‘blot’ on sages! This person lived on the flesh of hermits and he considers himself fit enough to conduct a quick enquiry and render justice rather hastily. And how! ‘uyir thandhanan adaa!’ I spare you. I would let you go alive, despite the fact that your ways of life is regurgitating. ‘pOdhir, maadhu ivaLai undhi.’ Leave this place quickly and let her alone with me. Let her be my wife.

So very typical of the ‘living legends’ that we witness in our times. ‘You are supposed to lead a saintly life; but you are violating dharma. Here, I am rendering justice to the situation. I am taking her away with me, for saints are not supposed to go about with women!’

Excellent sense of rectitude!

Let him have his way

The brothers enjoyed the ride. ‘Do not disturb him. In fact, this is the way in which we have to go. He is saving us the trouble of walking,’ Rama laughed

It is not difficult to imagine the condition in which Vaidehi would have been at that moment, since this is the first time that she has seen an ogre and not only that, she has been grabbed by the ogre in the very presence of Rama and Lakshmana. The speed with which things happened made even Rama lose his composure, not being able to bear the torment to which his loving wife is subjected to before his very eyes and to lament. This is one of those moments in which Rama acts like any of us and exhibits the feelings of a troubled soul. Being a character trait of Rama, this would be taken up later.

If this was a situation when Rama, who had defended the Yaga of Viswamitra and killed ogres earlier, lost his balance, one can understand the state of mind in which Sita would have been. “Hearing thus the wicked and boastful speech of that wicked Viradha, the overawed Sita, the daughter of Janaka, trembled with fear as does a plantain tree in a storm,” says Valmiki. (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto II, Sloka 15)

Though Rama was perturbed, it did not take more than a few moments for him to come out of that darkness. He quickly discharged seven arrows decorated with peacock feathers that pierced Viradha and made him bleed. But Viradha had the protection of boons that guarded him unharmed by weapons.

The arrows however achieved the desired result. Viradha dropped Sita and grabbed the two instead. Placing them on his shoulders, like children, he hurried to another part of the jungle. Now, the danger is shifted from Sita to the brothers. Moments ago, we saw that Rama was depressed and troubled to see his endeared in the arms of an ogre. Now that Viradha had dropped Janaki from his hold and that she is out of trouble, we see Rama bubbling with his sense of humour, even at the height of crisis.

Remaining on the shoulders of Viradha, Rama smiled mischievously at Lakshmana. ‘Just let him carry us. Do not prevent him,’ he told Lakshmana. “Let this ogre gladly carry us by this way, O son of Sumitra! Indeed this is the path of ours by which the night-wanderer is going.” (Ibid, Sloka 23)

The brothers enjoyed the ride. ‘Do not disturb him. In fact, this is the way in which we have to go, to reach the deeper jungle. He is saving us the trouble of walking,’ Rama laughed. ‘With the two seated on his shoulders, even that ogre resembled Garuda,’ is how Kamban describes the situation. ‘suvaNa vaNNanodu kaNNan iru thOL poliya,’ with Lakshmana of golden hue and Rama adorning his shoulders, ‘avaNa viNNidai nimirndhu padargindravan’ Viradha who jumped up into the sky, ‘aram sivaNa anna siraimun avarodu Egum selavaththu,’ because of the fact that those two who are the guardians of Dharma (were seated on his shoulders) ‘vuvaNan enum nedu mannanum oththaan arO’ resembled Garuda, the great king of birds.

The brothers had no difficulty. They knew they were capable of handling the situation. Rama is now bubbling with self-confidence and even with sense of humour. Think of Sita. This ogre has jumped into the skies taking the two with him. She is left alone on the ground, all alone, by herself.

Is it that easy for someone who is not used to anything but love and tenderness to cope with?

In motherliness she pleads

But her reaction is quite different. She quickly turns into the mother that she is. She throws up her hands high in the air at Viradha, and pleads with him

Let us bring this picture once again to our minds. Viradha has reached for the clouds, carrying the brothers on his shoulders. The two enjoy the ride and Rama even jokes about their being spared the trouble of walking, and therefore asking Lakshmana to do nothing to prevent Viradha for some more time. But in the warrior’s game they were playing, they forgot for a moment that Janaki is left alone, down there on earth. How scary must have been the situation for her, especially in view of the fact that she is yet to see the two in action.

The normal tendency in such circumstances is to succumb to a sense of insecurity and to lament about one’s own safety. Just a while ago, she was grabbed by this demon who declared that she would remain with him, and was carried away by him. She was no more than a poor child, looking to its parent for protection. The situation has changed now. Her protectors are being carried away now. This fellow is carrying them away on his shoulders. She is left alone on the ground, while they have been carried away to the clouds. It is only natural that the sense of insecurity of a child that she had moments ago should have intensified and she should have, expressed the agony of being left alone and helpless.

But her reaction is quite different. She quickly turns into the mother that she is. She throws up her hands high in the air at Viradha, and pleads with him as though he would listen to her! “This Rama, son of Dasaratha, truthful, well-behaved and pious, is being taken away together with Lakshmana by an ogre of terrible form,” she speaks to herself. (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto IV, Sloka 2) That monologue leads to an entreaty for sympathy. ‘Spare them!’ she pleads. She is not able to bear the sight of the two being carried away before her very own eyes.

Though she is proud about the valour of Rama and Lakshmana, she has not seen them in action so far. She is overcome by fear that the demon would gobble the brothers up and that she would be left alone in the jungle, unprotected. ‘Let me die instead,’ she thinks. ‘maam haraH utsRijya kaakutsthau namaste raakshasottamaH’ she pleads. “Take me away. Bears will eat me up and so will tigers and panthers. Release the descendants of Kakutstha.” I would anyway be eaten away by tigers, bears and leopards. Here, take me and spare them! ‘namaste raakshasottamaH’ she pleads. I pray to you O jewel among demons.

‘pinnai Edhum udhavum thuNai peRaaL,’ says Kamban. She was left with no one to help her. ‘urai peraaL.’ Nor was there anyone to calm her with words. ‘minnai eei idai nudanga viraindhu thodarvaaL.’ She followed Viradha (running) causing pain to her slender waist that swayed wildly (since she ran behind the ogre). ‘annaiyE anaya anbin,’ She was overcome by love, being the mother that she is (and pleaded) ‘arvOrgaL thammai vittu,’ Leave those two. Let them not die in your hands as they tread the path of rectitude. ‘ennaiyE nugardhi.’ Here, take me. Eat me instead. Leave them!

Srinivasa Sastriyar sums the situation up beautifully. “She says to him ‘O Viradha, take my homage and worship. I yield them gladly. But do me this favour. Leave them alone, and take me instead and eat me up. Why should I fall a prey to them? You eat me and release them.” She offered herself as a ransom as it were. This is just to show you how, usually speaking, in the last extremity, even though you are surrounded by your own children, your life being in danger, nature has decreed that the foremost tendency, the strongest temptation, will be to protect your own life and then the lives of others. Here Sita was just the opposite. She was trained such-wise that she preferred that Rama and Lakshmana should live, to her own continued existence.”

This was the Sita, when they entered the jungle. And this would be the Sita that is going to face the ogre of ogres, the ten-headed monster, the greatest of all demons. Unbelievable transformation!

Protector in times of fear

‘I know you all by name. I did not realise that you are Rama and she is Vaidehi. Now, bear with me. Let your feet liberate me and set me unto deliverance!’

The love and affection that Lakshmana had for his sister-in-law ran very deep. He held her as his own mother. In fact, Sumitra had instructed him to consider Rama as his father and Sita as his mother when the three started on their exile. No. I do not mean to say that Lakshmana held her in that position because Sumitra had instructed him that way. He needed no instruction from anyone in that respect. What I wish to stress is that the entire family of Ayodhya perceived her as the mother for Bharata, Lakshmana and Satrughna.

Lakshmana heard the lamentation of Janaki and her appeal to Viradha. He saw her standing with her hands raised up to the clouds, towards Viradha, and begging him with tears rolling down her eyes to spare the two and have her instead for a meal. ‘azhudhu, vaai kuzhari, aar uyir azhungi, ulayaa,’ She wailed, her speech faltered, her vitality withered and she was overcome by distress. ‘ezhudhu paavai annayaaL nilai uNarndhu iLayavan,’ Lakshmana (looked at her from the shoulder of Viradha who had carried them beyond the clouds) ‘thozhudhu,’ (turned to Rama and) joined his palms respectfully ‘devi thuyar kUra viLayaadal thozhilO?’ (and asked him) Is this the time to have fun (with this demon) when she – my mother – is distressed? ‘pazhudhu.’ No. What we are doing is wrong. ‘vaazhi!’ Hail to thee.

Rama realised that it was not possible to kill him with weapons. The arrows that struck him did not have any effect on him. ‘eyththa meyp periya kEzhal enna’ he looked like an over-sized porcupine with arrows hanging from his body, not penetrated deep. ‘engum visayin thaiththa ak kaNai therippa mey silirththu udharavE’ Viradha shook his body violently and the arrows flew from his body, as do the prickles from the porcupine. ‘It is not possible, Lakshmana, to kill him with weapons,’ he said.

“O tiger-man, by virtue of his penance this ogre cannot be conquered in battle with a weapon. We two shall bury him in a pit. O Lakshmana, dig a very big pit in this forest for this terrible ogre of fierce lustre, looking like an elephant.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto IV, Sloka 10 and 11)

But by that time, the brothers had severed his hands, though they could not kill him. It was at that time that Viradha realised that these two ‘sages with weapons’ were Rama and Lakshmana, who were supposed to be his liberators from his curse. He then narrates his story to Rama. (See: Viradha) ‘I did not realise that it was you,’ he tells Rama. “O tiger-man, I stand killed by you, equal in strength to Indra. However, O jewel among men, previously due to delusion you were not recognised by me. O dear, Kausalya is possessed of good progeny in you. You are known by me as Rama as also the princess of Videha territory, who is very fortunate and Lakshmana, who is very well-known.” (Ibid, Sloka 14 and 15)

‘I know you all by name. I did not realise that you are Rama and she is Vaidehi. Now, bear with me. Let your feet liberate me and set me unto deliverance!’ Knowing him to be the very Narayana, Viradha, who was known as Tumburu before he was cursed, worships Rama and requests him to kill him with his feet. ‘bhayeSu abhaya daH’ says the Poet, referring to Rama. One who grants protection in times of fear. He accepted the request of Viradha.

Five and five peaceful years

That came like a nightmare and passed like a dream. Lakshmana prepared the pit for burying Viradha and Rama kicked him into it. It is one of the very rare occasions when Rama proceeds to kill, after the person has fallen, is defenceless and is even unable to move. This happens once again when Kumbakarna falls down in the battlefield, in Kamban’s version of the epic. But, it has to be seen that in both the occasions, he did so only at the specific request of the person concerned. It was Viradha who sought to be killed, emphasises Valmiki.

“Having realised that the great demon could not be killed with a sharp weapon, both those foremost men, highly skilled, then killed Viradha burying him in a pit with full justification. In fact, Viradha himself had desired his own forcible death from Rama. Hence, the forest-wanderer himself said, “My death cannot happen with a weapon.” Having heard this very speech, Rama made up his mind to throw him into a pit and while that might ogre was being thrown into the pit he made the forest resound.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto IV, Sloka 30 to 32)

Viradha, assuming his ethereal form once again, returned, advising Sri Rama to visit the hermitage of Sarabhanga, thus making him commence his journey from the dense jungle of Dandaka, to down south, Janasthana, and further down to the very southern tip of the country and beyond.

Janaki was still trembling. Rama embraced her and consoled her, says the Poet. “After killing that stupendously mighty Viradha, the demon in forest, then Rama embraced Sita comfortingly.” (Ibid, Canto 3, Sloka 1)

Now, in this context, bring back to mind the arguments of Sita against Rama’s assurance of killing ogres. She had gone through nightmare in her first experience with demons. She had, for the first time ever, saw her husband in action. She had seen for herself how the enormous demon, who walked about with carcasses of elephants and lions pierced and lined up on his lance – as though he was carrying them for the barbecue! – was put to death by the feet of her husband.

‘na hi me rocate viiraH gamanam daNDakaan prati‘ I do not like your going to Dandaka,’ she says, even after going through this nightmare, even after seeing for herself what an ogre is capable of. ‘Restrain yourself, for they have not harmed you in any way. It is not for that purpose you were sent on exile. You were sent to lead the life of a sage,’ she says.

That is why Rama appeals to the mother in her. He draws her attention to the sufferings of the sages and saints at the hands of the demons. Which mother could take objection to that promise of protection, now! She was convinced of what Rama stood for, the fairness of what he assured and how he is justified in his action. ‘sadharma caariNii me tvam praaNebhyo api gariiyasii’ You are dearer to me even than life, being my companion in Dharma, says Rama.

The couple and Lakshmana spent ten years in Dandakaranya, spending all their time with the hermits.

“Raghava together with Vaidehi and Lakshmana then entered that beautiful group of hermitages and staying there happily, being honoured by great sages, that descendant of Kakutstha visited one by one the hermitages of those sages with whom that knower of great weapons had previously stayed. Raghava happily stayed somewhere for ten months, somewhere for a year, somewhere for four months, somewhere for five, six and (even) more, elsewhere for more months, somewhere half a month and in other hermitages for eight and three months. While he was thus staying in the hermitages of the seers and passing time happily and comfortably, ten years passed.” (Ibid, Canto XI, Sloka 23 to 27)  -" ரமத: ச அநுகூல்யேந  யயு: ஸம்வத்ஸரா தச "

Scholars break their heads over the number of years on this portion. They get a total of sixty months from the above Slokas and are hard put to find out to what happened to the other five years. But Kamban keeps his description very simple. He spends just two lines – half a verse – for giving an account of this period. ‘aindhum aindhum amaidhiyin aaNdu avaN, maindhar theedhu ilar vaiginar.’ They spent a period of five and five peaceful years, in harmony, there.

Rama then desired to visit sage Agastya.

The meeting with Agastya

Valmiki has portrayed, very much, Rama as the incarnation of Narayana, having come down to the earth for upholding what is right

The meeting with sage Agastya marks one of the important milestones of the story, for it is Agastya who advises Rama to move to Panchavati, the theatre of the important scene that is enacted in the drama.

There are scholars who claim that excepting in the Bala Kanda and in the Uttara Kanda, Valmiki did not portray Rama as an avatar of Narayana. And considering the fact that the authenticity of Bala Kanda and Uttara Kanda is questioned by the great, great scholars of the west, they argue that Valmiki did not portray Rama as an avatar at all and that Valmiki’s Rama was not more than a king.

There is abundant internal evidence in the epic in almost all the Books, emphasising and reiterating the concept of an avatar. Valmiki has very much portrayed Rama as the incarnation of Narayana, having come down to the earth for upholding what is right and vanquishing all that which is evil. Rama’s visit to the hermitage of Sarabhanga is an example. Indra is with the sage moments before Rama enters the hermitage. ‘Rama is coming,’ announces Indra. ‘Let me leave now quickly. I may have to pay my obeisance to him otherwise, necessitating me to violate the carefully guarded secret,’ he says. Details are for a later day.

In a similar vein, sage Agastya receives Rama, Lakshmana and Sita. He sounds almost like Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, on seeing his beloved Narendra for the first time. ‘I knew you would come. I have been waiting for you for such a long time!’ ‘dhandaka vanathu uraidhi endru urai tharak koNdu,’ I have heard that you are living in the forest of Dandaka. ‘uNdu varavu ith thisai enap peridhu uvandhEn’ and boundless was my pleasure in the thought that you would come here fore sure.

Agastya speaks and acts like a person who is very much aware of the main purpose of the incarnation of Rama. He hands him the great bow of Vishnu, in preparation of what is going to follow. It may be recalled that the bow that Parasurama gave Rama was deposited with Varuna. Rama would ask for it, much later when his bow breaks into two during his battle with Khara. What Agastya now gives him is another bow, which would be used in the killing of Indrajit, by Lakshmana.

If the instrument of offence is handed to Rama now, the most vital clue that Sita left when Ravana took her off to Lanka – her jewels – was handed to her ten years earlier, by Anasuya, another embodiment of love, virtue and wisdom, wife of sage Atri, ten years earlier even as the couple started their exile. The events take place so very casually. But they all point to one direction. That is clear, excessively.

Jatayu the vulture king

This is a very important role. Conveying the information to Rama, not merely as a passive witness but as an active and a valiant martyr.

If the jewels that Sita dropped from the ariel car of Ravana were given to her by Anasuya and Rama received the mighty bow from Parasurama at the time of his return to Ayodhya from Mithila, just after his marriage and another bow from sage Agastya now, at the commencement of his sojourn in Panchavati, there was one more relationship remaining. Someone has to witness the atrocious deed of Ravana, for this incident is going to take place in the absence of Rama and Lakshmana. The brothers should receive the most vital piece of information of who took her away and in which direction.

That someone should be strong enough, bold enough and quick enough to face Ravana and try to stop him. He should not hesitate to give his life up, sacrifice himself as a matter of duty, out of sheer love, as naturally as would Lakshmana have done. It was so essential in the loneliness of the jungle that someone who had strong bonds of friendship with the family was around to offer the kind of support that Sita needed at the time of difficulty. He might not succeed in stopping Ravana. In fact, the very purpose of the epic would be nullified if he stops him! But his act should be such that it offers some kind of solace to the troubled heart of Sita and leave a trace of hope in her that her whereabouts would be known.

This is a very important role. Conveying the information to Rama, not merely as a passive witness but as an active and a valiant martyr. The mantle falls on the shoulders of Jatayu, the vulture king, who has been chosen for this specific role and lives there in Panchavati for this purpose.

The story of Jatayu is worth going into. But the kind of relations that he has with the family of Ayodhya and the love and loyalty that he owes to Rama make it more appropriate to take it up later. Let us confine ourselves to the basic and essential information for now.

Jatayu was the son of Aruna, the charioteer of Sun. Aruna is the elder brother of Garuda, the divine carrier of Lord Vishnu. Aruna had two sons, Jatayu and Sampati. Sampati, the elder of the two, lies in the Mahendra parvata, with his wings scorched by the excessive heat of sun’s proximity, when he spread them protectively over his younger brother, Jatayu, when they frolicked in the sky, vying with one another to beat the other. It would once again be left to the elder brother Sampati to guide the Vanara warriors to Lanka, with his sharp eagle’s eye. The role played by the vulture brothers in the epic is fascinating and very important indeed.

Jatayu is entrusted with the kingship of vultures, his elder brother having been maimed and rendered immobile. Rama, Lakshmana and Sita meet Jatayu on their way to Panchavati. The feelings aroused in the two during the first meeting are so very different from those that are to be aroused when the brothers meet Maruti. If abundant love was the first emotion that overwhelmed Hanuman, Jatayu was not so very ready to fall in love with them, before knowing their identity. And the brothers at first took him to be an ogre.

The strong bonds that require Jatayu to lay his life in glory, with the self-effacing devotion and love, started with mutual suspicion!

Hari Krishnan