Of affection and administration

But these are administrative matters. Kamban lays emphasis on affection rather than administration…

The scene of departure from Ayodhya differs to a very great extent in Kamba Ramayana from its original. Kamban avoids several scenes, one of which we have seen is the way the decision to go on exile, accompanied by Sita, is taken. To put it very short, Valmiki’s Sita asks for permission from her husband, persists in her requests and finally wins her way. Let us also remember here that Rama was not forced into doing this. He did so with delight, and applauded her for having done the right thing that adds to the pride of both families.

We have also seen how Kamban handles this scene. She did not wait for him to say ‘yes’. She asserted her right by moving to her chamber, change to the hermit’s weeds herself and came back to him with a ‘Come on, let’s go.’ That takes the sting from the scene away, though it was no sting at all. The words of Sita in Valmiki cause pain only to those who fail to see Sita playing her role and also the way in which Rama takes those words. Kamban has smoothened the ‘supposed rough edge’ when he recreated the drama.

He makes a detour here and takes us quickly away from several scenes. The decision to go on exile with Sita and Lakshmana is followed by the ‘yatra dhana’, giving away gifts to the poor and needy, and an interview with Dasaratha and Rama taking leave of him. We see Dasaratha giving elaborate instructions to Sumantra to take Rama out of their territory. “Fitting with the best of horses a chariot used for pleasure-drives, return you (soon) and take this highly blessed son is being exiled to the forest by his (very) father and mother, such I believe is declared (by the scriptures) to be the reward of virtues and virtuous,” he tells Sumantra. (Valmiki Ramayana, Ayodhya Kanda, Canto XXXIX, Sloka 10 and 11)

‘I cannot let him walk his way to the forest. Take him in the best of chariots, used for pleasure trips, drawn by the best of horses. Take them up to the border, leave them there and you return soon.’ Dasaratha adds one more thing. ‘This is the way, I believe a virtuous son is to be sent away.’ The words may sound strange. But Dasaratha says this because the question of Asamanja, a prodigal son, a predecessor of Rama and a scum on the Raghuvamsa was raised and reference was made to the way in which he was exiled. ‘That won’t apply here,’ is what Dasaratha seems to imply.

But these are administrative matters. Kamban lays emphasis on affection rather than administration. Rama goes on exile without even seeing the face of his unconscious father, without taking leave of him in the traditional manner. Kamban has a very strong reason for circumventing this scene. Let us elaborate this when we study Rama.

The highly emotional drama, the controversial points that it contains, the objections to a this and to a that, are all softened by the way they are bypassed. But unfortunately, a very beautiful scene, bringing out the innocence of Sita could not be portrayed because of this reordering. That no doubt is our loss. The ‘kavi chakravarti’ – emperor among Poets – would have presented the scene wonderfully well had he not, out of sheer necessity of the emphasis that he places on a father’s affection and the way in which his dutiful and affectionate son handles the situation, not wanting to cause pain to his father, putting him in dilemma, sending him to the very same jungle with his own words that he hesitated to do so when Viswamitra asked for him, et al. The change of approach did not leave Kamban with any scope to portray this beautiful scene in Valmiki. Valmiki delights the heart of his readers with the innocence of Sita.

What does it mean?

The person in exile is supposed to lead a life like a hermit, keeping his mind away from physical pleasures. It is no ordinary task to observe restraint for a person, especially when his very loving wife accompanies him…

If Sita accompanied Rama to the jungle, it was not to lead a normal householder’s life with him. The life in the forest, though the couple were together, had its own special ways, observing continence and restraint. The person in exile is supposed to lead a life like a hermit, keeping his mind away from physical pleasures. It is no ordinary task to observe restraint for a person, especially when his very loving wife accompanies him. That then becomes extraordinary. That is why we see Rama – in Valmiki – forewarning Sita. ‘Do not think that it is a pleasure trip that we are undertaking.’

“A forest life is full of misery,” he tells her. “Exhausted through toil (entailed by search fallen of themselves. Hence a forest is a source of great suffering. By day and by night hunger has to be appeased with one’s mind fully controlled by means of fruits fall of themselves from trees, O Sita! Hence a forest is full of privations. Fasting has to be observed according to one’s stamina, O princes of Mithila! (Nay), a mass of matted hair has to be worn (on the head) and one has to remain clad in the bark of trees.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Ayodhya Kanda, Canto XXVIII, Sloka 11-13)

We are supposed to lead the life of an ascetic, void of conjugal pleasures. We are supposed to control our minds. He emphasises again, “Anger and greed have to be completely abandoned, one’s heart has to be set on asceticism.” (Ibid, Sloka 24) Setting one’s mind on continence becomes extra difficult with the presence of the spouse, a loving spouse at that. That basically might have been the reason for Rama hesitating to take her with him.

‘That is not at all difficult for me. Let me just remain by your side and render the services that a wife is supposed to do in every other way,’ Sita tells him, understanding what he means. Wearing matted hair and tree bark are external matters, symbolising the kind of life one is supposed to live. Internalising and experiencing the rigorous life of an ascetic requires the strength of the will and the strength of the soul. That is why we see the couple’s intimate moments are limited to exchange of glances, smiles etc. There is no doubt that she rose up to every demand of the situation. But she melts the heart of the readers when Rama asks for the tree bark to be brought, for them to take leave.

As we had occasion to mention, this scene takes place a good 19 cantos later in Valmiki Ramayana, after Rama is asked to go on exile. It is Rama who asks for the tree bark to be brought. ‘I have given up the elephant. What is the use of tether for me!’ he tells Dasaratha, who insists that a detachment of army should follow Rama with all the resources. ‘Let all the army, all the wealth remain here for the enjoyment of Bharata. I am not going to take anything with me,’ he says firmly. And then he turns to the maidservants of Kaikeyi. “Let the servant-maids of mother Kaikeyi bring me robes fit for a dweller in forests alone. (Addressing the maid-servants he continues), go and duly bring a spade and a basket both for me, who am going to take up my abode in a forest for fourteen years.” (Ibid, Sloka 4 and 5)

Rama uttered these words to the maidservants of Kaikeyi. But Kaikeyi seems to be eager to have the pleasure of doing that herself. She did not wait for the maids to move. Instead she quickly brought them, herself. “Personally bringing pieces of bark (for being put on by Sri Rama and others), Kaikeyi, who was lost to (all shame), forthwith said to Sri Rama in the midst of that concourse of men, “Put these on.” (Ibid, Sloka 6)

She did so ‘in the concourse of men,’ when so many of them were present. Now, they have to change their robes and wear tree bark. Rama and Lakshmana had no difficulty. But what about Sita!

How do they wear it?

Rama must have smiled at her plight. He quickly came to her rescue, took them from her hands and fastened them over her silken garments.

Rama received two pieces of the ascetic garb and donned them there itself. Lakshmana too had no difficulty in wearing them in the presence of his father. ‘pitur agratah’ says the Poet. Before his father. The piece of bark to be worn by her was handed over to Janaki. It was her turn to wear it. Being the princess that she was, who had never in her life worn anything other than silken garments, she did not know what to do with them.

Properly speaking the tree-bark is made of the Kusa grass. She was abashed. She was alarmed to see the chIram that she was supposed to wear and felt like a deer on seeing the trap. “Gazing with reverence on the piece of bark intended for being donned by her, Sita, who was clad in silken robes, felt dismayed as a doe would on seeing a snare (set for entrapping it.)” (Valmiki Ramayana, Ayodhya Kanda, Canto XXXVII, Sloka 9)

She did not feel alarmed or entrapped like a deer at the prospect of wearing them. A proper understanding would mean that she was too embarrassed to wear it when so many were around. Notice the Poet’s emphasis on the words ‘in the presence of his father’ when Lakshmana changed to the hermit’s weeds. She took it in her hands. And then not knowing what to do, she placed the piece around her neck and held it there with her hand. She did it again and again, taking it away for a while and then trying it again. ‘siittaa saamumoha muhurmuhuh,’ Not used to wearing it, she erred again and again.

She then turned to Rama. ‘katham nu ciiram badhnanti munayo vana vaasinah?’ How do they wear it? How the ascetics who reside in the forests wear it?’ she asked him with eyes full of tears. Once again, it has to be seen that the tears are not because of her – the princess of Mithila and the daughter-in-law of Ayodhya – having to wear the garment made of grass. She did not hesitate to wear them. On the other hand she did not know how to do it and there were so many around that it is not easy for a woman to change her clothing.

Rama must have smiled at her plight. He quickly came to her rescue, took them from her hands and fastened them over her silken garments. “Quickly going near her, Sri Rama, the foremost of those upholding the cause of virtue, then personally fastened the bark over her silken garment.” (Ibid, Sloka 14)

A beautiful and moving portrayal. A timorous wife and a caring husband. Just half a line of a verse, speaking volumes of the love that prevailed between the two of them. But that loving act of Rama intensified the agony of the womenfolk around, who could not control their tears. ‘No, she is not fit for the life in the jungles. Leave her with us here, child,’ they said. ‘She has not been exiled. Why take her with you? Let her remain here and let us be consoled by her presence, in your absence,’ they pleaded. Obviously, they had no opportunity of knowing what actually took place and how this decision was arrived at.

It is not surprising that these simple women of the gynaecium were moved to tears, when even Vasistha, guru of the royalty, who is supposed to be above all emotions, was deeply moved and was affected by the sight.

Steadfast she remains

It is amazing to see the calmness with which Janaki takes the situation. She remains as cool as her husband, with that never evanescent smile…

As we saw, people are moved to tears at the site of Janaki having to wear the ascetic’s garb. ‘She is so innocent that she does not even know how to wear this. Why then should she be taken along with you Rama! We are not able to stop you because you are firm about your decision. But she was not exiled! Let her remain here,’ people pleaded.

The sight of Rama and Lakshmana changing over from their royal robes was not this shocking. They were distressed to see the quick turn of events that have pulled the princes in a diametrically opposite direction over night, no doubt. But if they stood in tears and in utter helplessness, a sudden wave of shock swept over then when Sita, their endeared princess, had to don the hermit’s weeds and the way she struggled with it.

Vasistha, the royal preceptor could not let it happen any more. It was only the previous night that he called on Rama in his palace and had asked him to observe fasting along with Sita, in preparation for the coronation ceremony. “Propitious is your father to you O, Rama,” he had told him, “inasmuch as you are going to attain sovereignty (tomorrow). (Therefore) keep you fast for the night with Sita. Out of love your father, Emperor Dasaratha, is positively going to install you in the office of Prince Regent next morning, (even) as Nahusha installed (his son) Yayati.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Ayodhya Kanda, Canto V, Sloka 9and 10)

Not only that his words have gone wrong; his instructions to the couple to undergo fasting – as part of the rituals to be observed for the ceremony – had served no purpose; but also he stands witness to this pathetic sight. He chides Kaikeyi for having exceeded her limits and having misled the King and brought disgrace to the family.

‘You tend to think that you have coveted a great fortune for your son Bharata by forcing the wheel of time in the opposite direction overnight. What you do not realise is that Bharata would not accept this. He would not stoop from his level and bear with you for this unfairness. And for now, Sita is not proceeding to the forest. I have better plans for her.’ ‘Aatmaa hi daaraah sarveshhaam daarasamgrahavartinaam. Aatmeyamiti raamasya paalayishhiyati mediniim.’ To a person who always cares for his wife, she is nothing other than his very soul. Sita is nothing other than Rama’s soul and she can rule the earth.

‘Let him go ahead with his resolve. I am not stopping him. I tried my best to stop him. But could not do so. Let her remain here. The kingdom was offered to Rama. It is appropriate that she rules it in his absence. I tell you Bharata would not even touch the crown. Or, if you still feel that she should also go with him, let it be so. We will all follow them to the forest. This entire city, including the frontier-guards, would move to wherever Rama moves along with his wife. You will be left with vacant houses and empty streets to happily rule about.’

Of course these are words that flow out of an agonised heart. Though he speaks of grand plans of making Sita the queen in the absence of Rama, it was not that he did not realise how difficult it was to make that happen, especially in view of the fact Rama would not allow that, as it has already been ordained that Bharata would be installed as the Prince Regent. “Moreover, putting aside the bark of trees,” he pleads with Kaikeyi, give excellent jewellery to your daughter-in-law, O Kaikeyi! The bark of trees is not ordained for her.’ Thus saying, so Vasistha prevented that wearing of garment by Sita.” (Ibid, Sloka 35)

But despite all that, it is amazing to see the calmness with which Janaki takes the situation. She remains as cool as her husband, with that never evanescent smile on her countenance. Valmiki says, “Even though Vasistha, the preceptor of the king, who had an influence beyond compare and the best of Brahmanas was speaking as above, Sita did not turn away in her resolution to follow the ways of her beloved husband.” (Ibid, Sloka 37)

But this steadfastness, this show of an iron-will, is just the beginning,

Take care of my parrot…

She would display the qualities of an average and innocent woman now, that of a curious child the next moment and in no time she would transform into the widely read, lofty and scholarly soul…

Valmiki and Kamban portray several simple incidents when the three reach the precincts of the river Ganges and from there to Citrakuta and Dandakaranya later. The beauty lies in the very simple manner in which these are narrated. Each little incident, insignificant as it may seem – and might perhaps for that reason overlooked and not studied properly – bring out the love prevailed among the three, how the great son of the emperor and his spouse and brother acclimatised themselves without any difficulty to the life in the jungle, from their luxurious life in the palace, overnight.

Apart from that these sargas contain valuable information that goes to prove several beliefs to be mere myths. In one such place, we see that while Lakshmana remained ever vigilant by the side of the couple, the belief that he did not sleep for fourteen years, is not a fact. We see Rama waking up Lakshmana who had overslept. We will go into that more fully when studying Rama.

This is the portion that the Poets use to build the character sketch of the three. It is here that we see the mercurial temper of Lakshmana – for a second time – and how protective he is about Rama. It is here that we see how calm and controlled Rama is especially when he sends word to his parents through Sumantra and how remorseless he remains about the change of decision. Valmiki (and Valmiki alone, not Kamban) then narrates a conversation between Rama and Lakshmana when Rama’s words sound not in the same spirit.

While the qualities of the two warriors get broader strokes of the brush, Sita sparkles with several colours like the rainbow that she is, displaying different colours and yet remaining a single whole. She would display the qualities of an average and innocent woman now, that of a curious child the next moment and in no time she would transform into the widely read, lofty and scholarly soul that she is, in her conversations with Sri Rama.

‘Convey my respects to the King and my mothers-in-law,’ she would tell Sumantra when he seeks for parting message to be taken back to Ayodhya. And she would, in the very next breath add, ‘yaanudaip pon nirap pUvayum kiLiyum pOtrumin enna matru engayarukku iyambuvaai,’ ask my sisters – Urmila, Mandavi and Srutakirti – to take care of my parrot and mynah. What an occasion is this! She is sending words back home to her sisters with whom she would not be able to communicate in any manner for fourteen long years. And what an important message is she sending! ‘Take care of my mynah and parrot.’ It was this parrot that was named ‘Kaikeyi’ by Rama.

This childlike quality, this innocence must have melted the heart of Sri Rama. These words must have reverberated in his heart in the days that he was undergoing the pangs of separation. He tells Hanuman to remind her of this incident. ‘kiLLayodu pUvaigaL kiLaththal kiLa enum piLLai uryain thiram uNarthudhi,’ he tells Sita in Sundara Kanda. ‘My mother! He asked me to remind you how like a child you asked Sumantra to tell your sisters to take care of your parrot and mynah.’

Valmiki shows yet another aspect of her quality, while crossing the Ganges. When the boat that Guhan and his men had brought had crossed halfway in the mighty river and they were at the centre, she is amazed by the breadth that the waters cover between the banks, the force with which the Ganges moves and its depth. Like any of our women, she offers prayers to Ganges, seeking the safety of her husband, and asking the river to be careful about the ‘important personality’ that she is carrying in the boat and to let him cross and thus enable him to spend the fourteen years as he has vowed to, in the forest.

She does so once again when they ferry across the Kalindhi. Let’s take a look at the different ways in which she prays on both the occasions.

She is a delight to watch

Janaki is no exception to this general rule. We see her praying at every little opportunity. And almost always it is for the welfare of her Rama…

The first thing that our women do whenever there is a trivial incident or a major event coming up at home is to offer a prayer and to vow to do a this or a that. This is true of most of our womenfolk even to this day. It might be anything from the ailment of a little one to the job offer that her ‘child’ had received the other day from abroad. She would promptly go to the puja room, offer a prayer and may be tie a coin in a piece of cloth and place it before her ‘ishta devata’ and take a vow for early cure from an ailment or the successful completion of any other event. Are you not reminded of your sweet mother? Or may be a sister or your wife?

That is a matter of care and concern impelled by that ‘extra’ affection and tenderness that is a natural part of them. Somehow, not many men do this. He probably knows that a so-and-so is there to take care of him. In most cases, he would not even know that he would have to undertake a visit to a temple, or tonsure his head and what not. That would come up at the most inconvenient time, leading to a short quarrel and a quick conclusion of peace! This is a matter of routine in most of our households. Anyway, these are the little pickles of life that make an otherwise dull existence, bright and interesting.

Janaki is no exception to this general rule. We see her praying at every little opportunity. And almost always it is for the welfare of her Rama, and of course Lakshmana. Peculiarly, she feels and acts like a mother when it comes to Lakshmana. I say peculiar because Lakshmana was elder to her, considering the fact that he was only two days younger to Rama. Despite this, Lakshmana joyfully and reverently accepts her as his own mother.

In fact it was Lakshmana who helped her get into the boat, ordered by Rama. That goes without saying that Lakshmana would have had to hold her hand, help her to keep her balance by holding her tight et al. But that takes place as naturally as between a mother and son. Later, when Rama helps her to get into a ferry when crossing the Yamuna, the poet employs the epithet lajjamanam – shy, abashed – to describe her when Rama takes hold of her hand. We will go into details a little later.

When the boat, oared by Guhan and his men, reached the middle of Ganges – a vast expanse of water between the banks – Sita joins her palms. We see this sweet little thing praying to the river for the safety of the most valiant of all that walked the earth! “Since you, O goddess flowing through heaven, earth and the subterranean regions, include (in your basin) the realm of Brahma (the outermost of the six spheres enveloping the earth) and are vividly seen on this (terrestrial) plane as a consort of the Ocean-king (the deity presiding over the oceans) I, Sita, greet and extol you O charming goddess!” (Valmiki Ramayana, Ayodhya Kanda, Canto LII, Sloka 86 – 87)

And for what! ‘Let my husband, the tiger among men, successfully complete the period of his exile and safely return to his throne!’ “When Sri Rama (a tiger among men) has safely returned and regained his throne, I shall give away a lakh of cows as well as articles of wearing apparel and food-stuffs of excellent quality to the Brahmins with intent to please you. Having returned to Ayodhya, I shall worship you with thousand (and one) articles not available (even) to gods as well as with lands free from revenue, raiment and cooked rice.” (Ibid, Sloka 89)

She does not stop there. She vows to offer worship in all the temples on the banks of Ganges. For what? What does she want? Not for her safety. Not for her sake. “May the sinless Rama (who is possessed of mighty arms) for his part re-enter Ayodhya from the forest along with Lakshmana and myself, O sinless goddess.” (Ibid, Sloka 91)

As is typical of such situations, this takes place without the knowledge of either Rama or Lakshmana, though they are very close at hand. A delight to watch. That is Sita.

She is a delight to watch Part II

It moves like a dream. A thick forest, a swift river, two men rowing the raft and an angel seated comfortably in the raft and taken care of…

Sita seems to be fond of offering such little prayers every now and then. The couple and Lakshmana reach the hermitage of sage Bharadwaja, who asks them to stay with him in the hermitage. Rama prefers to live in a deeper jungle, inaccessible to the people of Ayodhya so that they do not make a beeline to the Bharadwaja Ashram, which was fairly close to the city. On his advice, Rama moves to Citrakuta and they had to cross the river Yamuna now, from the hermitage of Bharadwaja.

Rama and Lakshmana, working together, made a raft. “The two brothers then prepared a fairly big raft consisting of a number of wooden logs (placed side by side) overspread with dry bamboos and covered all over with the fragrant roots of the Usira plant. Then, cutting shoots of canes and twigs of the rose-apple tree, the powerful Lakshmana made a comfortable seat for Sita.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Ayodhya Kanda, Canto 55, Sloka 14 and 15)

This is contrary to the general belief that Lakshmana undertook all the physical labour whenever there was a need. Rama gladly partook in all the activities and the above Sloka mentions that very clearly.

The brothers had no assistance this time, as they had the affectionate huntsman Guhan and his men, when they crossed the Ganges. They rowed the raft with Janaki presiding over the scene. It moves like a dream. A thick forest, a swift river, two men rowing the raft and an angel seated comfortably in the raft and taken care of, always. Rama is very particular about her comfort and her happiness. We hear him telling Lakshmana every now and then to be alert, to protect her from dangers that may lurk in unexpected quarters.

In fact, once they reach the other bank of Yamuna, we hear him telling Lakshmana: “Taking Sita (with you) walk in the van, O Lakshmana (younger brother of Bharata)! Equipped with arms I shall follow you in the rear, O jewel among men! Offer to Sita (a princes of the Videha clan) whatever fruit or flower he daughter of Janaka asks for and in which her mind finds delight.” (Ibid, Sloka 27 and 28) ‘Take her with you. I will follow you both. If she likes some flowers or fruits on the way, do remember to bring them to her.’

When the raft reaches the middle of the river, she utters her prayer once again, unheard either by Rama or Lakshmana, to Yamuna. “May I safely cross your waters (with my husband and brother-in-law) O gracious lady; and let my husband conclude his vow (of spending fourteen years in exile in the forest). When Sri Rama safely returns to the city (of Ayodhya) ruled over by the Ikswakus, I shall propitiate you by offering a thousand cows and a hundred (and one) articles of worship which cannot be procured even by gods.”

The purpose of the prayer remains the same. The offerings remain the same. There is a minor difference however. The quantity! Narrating this incident with tender feelings, Srinivasa Sastriyar jokes about it. “In the case of Ganges it was a lakh of cows. Kalindhi is not so big and she reduces the quantity. The cows are only a thousand and the wine pots a hundred!”

There is one more occasion she prays. This time it is to a banyan tree, known as syama. And again there is a difference, making her the endeared, with such tender feelings.

She is a delight to watch Part III

For the first time in these three occasions, Rama sees her and hears her praying. Like all of us, men, he stands there and watches…

The third occasion of her offering worship takes place quite immediately after they reach the other bank of Yamuna. They left the forest on the bank of Yamuna and reached this gigantic banyan tree, “clothed with green leaves and (accordingly) bearing the name of Syama,” says Valmiki. On seeing the giant-sized tree with its branches sprawling and covering a vast extent of land under its shade, Vaidehi is once again moved. Remember, they are entering the forest all alone. When did Sita move about without a retinue? At least Rama and Lakshmana were used to moving about alone. She is the daughter of Janaka, who loved her more than he did his own daughter, Urmila. She has been the darling of Ayodhya royalty as well as the people. The way people are moved to tears when she changes over to hermit’s weeds is abundant proof, if proof were needed!

And for the first time in her life, she moves about in just the company of her husband, not denying the presence of Lakshmana. She is moved to reverence on seeing the Syama. “Nay, going very near the banyan tree, Sita (a princes of the Videha dynasty) bowed low to it and said, ‘Hail to you, O gigantic tree! Let my husband conclude his vow (of forest life) and let us see (once more) mother Kausalya as well as the illustrious Sumitra. So saying and joining her palms, the high-minded Sita went round the banyan trees clock-wise.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Ayodhya Kanda, Canto LV, Sloka 24 and 25)

The prayer is the same, as it always has been. ‘Let my husband be able to conclude his vow. Let him not be assailed by events.’ For the first time in these three occasions, Rama sees her and hears her praying. Like all of us, men, he stands there and watches – does not join her and partake in her prayer in going clock-wise around the banyan tree! He simply stands there, watching her and waiting till she completes her little rites. His mind is working on her safety and nothing else. In the very next Sloka we hear him instructing Lakshmana to take her with him, while he (Rama) follows them with his bow.

Why would she, the great princess of Mithila, the grand daughter-in-law of Ayodhya, be impelled to offer her worship to the river and to the tree and to every other thing that strikes awe in her? Of course, the worship at the Syama was a suggestion from sage Bharadwaja. What impelled her to pray again and again for the welfare of Rama? No. She is not afraid. She had nothing of that sort in her element. Fear was unknown to her. The occasions when she is shown as overcome by fear can be counted on the fingers on one hand. But they were situations of the extreme kind. She stands up bold as a lioness under tortuous circumstances, where most of us, ‘brave men’ would have crumbled to the dust. More over, with the best of archers keeping vigil and protecting her, there was nothing to worry at all! But she is excited. That is apparent. Excited at the prospect of their sojourn in the company of each other, leading a pure and hermit’s life. And impelled by feelings of care and concern born of the love that flowed out of her, always.

And this is the woman who takes an altogether different stance. She admonishes him gently. She cautions him against transgression of Dharma. She insists that once in jungle, he should adhere to the life of a sage and not that of a Kshatriya and describes the ways of the human psyche. The discussion may even shock men of small-mind, in whose life there is no place for a discussion with his wife, whose heart is so weak as not to take healthy criticism from his wife.

Let’s see how the couple set us an example.

Unstringing the bow

Rama, the man who is used to moving about with the banded bow in hand, is extremely careful about how he carries it around.

When I started the portion on ‘She is a delight to watch,’ it was my intention to show the character traits that Sita shares with the very ordinary women folk, who live their lives with us and brighten our days. I had mentioned very clearly that she is a many-coloured-rainbow and is a stunning mix of the very ordinary and the extraordinary. The narration on her prayers was simply intended to bring out the qualities that she has in common with the everyday woman of even this day. The reader who had commented on Part III of ‘She is a delight to watch’ would not have written the way he has, had he not missed this point. I very sincerely welcome criticism of the strongest kind for that aids introspection and honing and fine-tuning my approach. But I would consider it a matter of basic courtesy shown to me, to first read what I have written, before expressing views on my writing.

We have seen the side that is ordinary in Janaki. Let us now move on to what is not so ordinary. After the first few days of their life in exile, and after Bharata’s arrival and attempt to take Rama back to Ayodhya, Rama moves to Dandakaranya. The Book of Forests starts.

Though I reserve and postpone many sparkling qualities of Rama for an appropriate time, I am not able to stop myself from putting them forth now and then and one such is an observation in passing that Valmiki makes very casually, at the very opening of the Aranya Kanda. This is one more Sloka that speaks of his excellent qualities. And if I speak of this Sloka here, it is because we are going to study a later incident involving Sita, in comparison with this. I hope to be graced by the quality of patience from my scholarly readers.

Rama, the man who is used to moving about with the banded bow in hand (the bow that was given to him by Parasurama was deposited with Varuna and would be called back only when Rama wars against Khara and therefore the bow that he is carrying now is the normal banded bow) is extremely careful about how he carries it around. “Seeing that group of hermitages of sages, adorned with highly blessed Brahmanas, knowers of Brahma, the glorious and highly lustrous Rama removed the string of his great bow and entered into the hermitages.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto I, Sloka 10)

If the gunner keeps the barrel capped, the archer makes his intention abundantly clear by removing the string of his bow. That is a matter of respect that he shows to elders and sages. The bow had different purposes and was of different sizes. The hunter’s bow, lighter in many respects, for it had to be carried when the hunter had to run behind animals, differed greatly from the warrior’s massive bow, and was comparatively smaller. It is the hunter’s bow that many of our artists draw Rama with. The depiction is not correct, going according to what the Poets say. Many scholars feel that the warrior’s bow measured a length of six feet, that is, as tall as the archer. But when Sugriva demands Rama to kick the skeletal remains of Dundhubi, he asks him to kick them to a distance of “two hundred bows (or eight hundred arms) length” (Ibid, Kishkindha Kanda, Canto XI, Sloka 72). That shows that the Indian warriors’ bow was almost double the height of the archer. References to the Indian bow and arrows that were used by Porus against Alexander the Great, in Indika confirm this.

If that was the standard size of a bow, the banded bow of Rama would have struck terror in the minds of the perceiver, without doubt. But Rama had to carry the bow with him wherever he went. He could not leave it outside the hermitage and walk in bare handed, when meeting the sages. He removed the string instead, by way of showing his respect and reverence to the sages.

This Sloka gains additional significance, apart from the fact that it displays the good manners and etiquette that Rama observed, later, in a different way, later.

Solicitation and a demand

They remind him of his kingly duties. They tell him that it is the duty of a Kshatriya to protect the subjects, as well as the sages who occupy the forests.

We saw the Sita who indulged in baby talk. We saw her playing the role of a very simple minded woman, praying at every little opportunity. We are going to see her transform into an intellectual companion, discussing values of life and explaining the frailties of the human mind with an anecdote as well. When she does so, she employs utmost care and concern. This is not one of those moments when love ruled supreme and anything could be uttered without restraint. The very basic requirement of conducting an ‘adult – adult’ conversation (as Transactional Analysis would put it) is expression of due respect and recognition of the other person’s intellectual and other attainments. At no time should one try to act superior – that is, assume the role of the parent. That is most important. Let us see how this ‘innocent, doe-eyed, child-like’ princess of Videha rises up to the demand of the situation.

Moving a little deeper into the jungle, the three reach the ashram of sage Sarabhanga. Sarabhanga was a great sage. The very Indra came to see him in person moments before Rama reached the spot. And the sage was waiting for Rama to shed his mortal frame like the ‘snake casting off its slough’. This scene has to be seen in depth when we see Rama. It would suffice for now to say that the sage walked into fire in the presence of Rama and other sages.

The sages who had gathered at the hermitage of Sarabhanga complained of the terrifying persecutions to which ascetics were subjected to, right from the river Pampa, Mandakini and also in the Citrakuta. They remind him of his kingly duties. They tell him that it is the duty of a Kshatriya to protect the subjects, as well as the sages who occupy the forests.

“Having met you, the magnanimous knower of Dharma and lover righteousness, we shall speak with the attitude of a petitioner. You may please forgive us this encroachment, O lord! It would be a great Adharma (failure in duty), O master, on the part of that king who would just take away the sixth part by way of land revenue and not protect his subjects like his own children.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto VI, Sloka 11)

A king owes a duty to his subjects. He has to protect them. He has to take care of their safety, security and well-being. Because he receives one-sixth of their income as tax. He has to look after his subjects as his very own children. And do you know what the king receives from the sages? “Whatever great Dharma a sage living on roots and fruits does, the fourth part of it goes to the king who protects the people with Dharma.” (Ibid, Sloka 14)

If the people pay one-sixth of their earnings, one-fourth of the fruits of the penance of the sages goes to the king automatically. It therefore redounds on a king to protect them as well. ‘We are not able to continue with our quest after the self any more,’ they complained. ‘You come and see for yourself the number of skeletons of sages that lay scattered all around in the jungle.’ And they submitted finally, “O brave prince, there can be no higher asylum on earth than you. Protect us all from the ogres.” (Ibid, Sloka 20)

That is a petition, submission, surrender as well as a demand. ‘We speak like petitioners and we take refuge in you,’ they submit humbly, at the same time, reminding the duty of a king who receives one-fourth of the fruits of their penance.

Hari Krishnan