I will guard her

Rama regards him as his father and entrusts the guarding of Sita to him.

Jatayu was the friend of Dasaratha. “Then as though delighting them with a gentle and sweet speech he said, ‘O dear son, known me to be the friend of your father.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto XIV, Sloka 3) Valmiki doesn’t answer the question of how they became friends. The long speech of Jatayu, detailing the creation of various forms of life on earth and how he was born to Aruna, son of Kasyapa, does not contain the information on how Jatayu and Dasaratha became friends.

Picking the detail up from elsewhere, Kamban develops the scene a little further and makes it more emotional and moving, and makes the bond stronger and beautiful. As he comes to know that the brothers are the sons of king Dasaratha, Jatayu is delighted and enquires about the welfare of their father. He is shocked to know about the death of Dasaratha. ‘How did you leave me!’ he laments. ‘thayir udaikkum maththu ena samparanai thadindha an naaL,’ When we stood hand in hand like the churning rod that churns and dilutes curd, to eliminate the demon Sampara, ‘ayir kidakkum kadal valayaththu ayal ariya,’ in the presence of the entire world girdled by the sea (so that all heard what you said), ‘nee udal naan aavi endru seyir kidaththal seyaadha thiru manaththaai seppinaai,’ you told me, pure of mind, that you are the body and I am your soul. ‘Then how did Yama take the body away to the heavens, when the soul still wanders on earth,’ Jatayu wept.

To put it short for now, Dasaratha fought and vanquished Samparasura, to help Indra who was suffering from the demon who was tormenting him and the celestials. Jatayu joined Dasaratha in the battle and fought the demon along with him. Dasaratha was so moved by the assistance rendered by the vulture king and the two became fast friends.

That moves Rama to tears. Anything that reminds him of his father moves him and here is the close friend of his father. He embraced Jatayu. “Raghava honoured Jatayu, embraced him with joy and bowed low (to him); for, the self-restrained Rama had heard about the vulture’s friendship with his father (Dasaratha) spoken of by Jatayu, again and again.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto XIV, Sloka 35)

Kamban develops it into a father-son relationship. Jatayu becomes the father figure that he is. “If you so desire, I shall be your assistant at your dwelling. For this inaccessible forest is frequented by beasts and ogres; and O dear one, when you go out with Lakshmana, I shall guard Sita,” Jatayu gives his word. (Ibid, Sloka34)

‘nIr ini naNNudhal kaarum ik kaattil vaigudhir,’ Live in this portion of the jungle, until the day you return to your kingdom. ‘kaakkuven yaan,’ and I will protect (her in your absence).

Rama regards him as his father and entrusts the guarding of Sita to him. As Valmiki puts it, “Entrusting Sita, the princess of Mithila, to the care of Jatayu, he proceeded to the well-known Panchavati together with the selfsame mighty bird and with Lakshmana, seeking as it were to burn the enemy as fire would burn moths.” (Ibid, Sloka 36)

The main characters move to the centre-stage. The events follow one another. The stage is well-set for the drama that is to come.

A vision or a waking dream…

A wonderfully fascinating atmosphere indeed! Lake abounding with lotuses and the Godavari close by, herds of deer, flocks of peacock…

Rama selected the location for Lakshmana to construct the parnasala, hermitage for them, very close to the banks of the river Godavari. To think of it, this was the parnasala that Kamban depicts as being dug out and taken to Lanka with the earth on which it stood. This was the parnasala in which Hanuman would later see her in Asoka Vana. This was the parnasala in which Sita would have to spend an unending aeon of a year in agony, under extreme pressure and sheer isolation until the arrival of her Lord, in total steadfastness and unbudging courage and stoic celibacy.

Rama, the affectionate husband, is so very careful about the choice of the spot. “Look about for a site with a pool nearby, in which the princess of Videha, yourself and I will feel delighted, where there is beauty of forest and beauty of water, and also in the vicinity of which there are firewood, flowers, the holy Kusa grass and water,” he instructs Lakshmana elaborately. (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto XV, Sloka 4-5)

And finally, when Rama himself, at the request of Lakshmana selects the spot, he gives an enthralling account of the surroundings. “Here is seen nearby a lake looking delightful with fragrant sun-like lotuses and (further) beautified by blue lotuses. As pointed out by Agastya, the pure-minded sage, this is the charming Godavari hemmed with trees in blossom. Crowded with swans and Karandava birds, beautified by Caravaka birds and stirred by herds of deer, it is neither very far nor very near. Here are seen lofty and charming mountains made noisy by peacock, having many caves and covered with trees in blossom, O gentle Lakshmana! Speckled here and there with shining golden, silvery and coppery minerals, they look like elephants decorated with exquisite coloured diagrams resembling latticed windows.” (Ibid, Sloka 11 to 15)

What I have given above is only a portion of the vivid and detailed description of the locale that Rama gives. A wonderfully fascinating atmosphere indeed! Lake abounding with lotuses and the Godavari close by, herds of deer, flocks of peacock and other birds, flanked by thickly wooded mountains and the serenity of the atmosphere underlined by the noisy peacocks and other birds … my god! The place is worth sacrificing a kingdom to live in!

We see the most happy and affectionate moments among the three even as the plot thickens. The divine couple would exchange loving glances loaded with love and affection. ‘Odhimam odhungak kaNda uththaman uzhayL aagum seethai than nadayai nOkkich chiriyadhu Or muruval seydhaan.’ Rama would see the swans that moved about in the banks of Godavari and would turn to Sita, whose gait resembled those birds and would smile at her. ‘maadhu avaL thaanum aaNdu vandhu nIr uNdu mILum pOdhagam nadappa nOkkip pudhiyadhu Or muruval pUththaL.’ (When he did so) Sita for her part pointed to an elephant that came over there for drinking water, with the movement of her eyes and smiled back at him, implying ‘if my gait resembles the swan, your gait resembles the elephant.’

The days move like dream until that fateful day when Surpanakha chanced to pass by that side.

Surpanakha arrives

She decided that this was the man for her. That is the trouble with demons. Or, with persons with demonic qualities.

Earlier, when speaking of Ravana, we had mentioned he killed Vidyujjihva, husband of his sister Surpanakha while fighting the Kalakeyas. By way of pacifying Surpanakha for his rashness, Ravana sent her to the forest of Dandaka, with Khara and Dusana, cousins of Ravana and Surpanakha, along with a large army of ogres. The demons were ruling the stretch of jungle from Dandaka, to Janasthana striking terror everywhere in the hearts of saints and sages.

Surpanakha, who was roaming in the forest, chanced to pass by the parnasala erected by the brothers and she caught sight of Rama from a distance and fell in love with him that very moment. She stands in hiding and takes a long and shameless gaze at Rama. Her eyes wander all over his body. ‘thaaL uyar thaamaraith thaLangaL,’ she mumbles to herself. His eyes are nothing but petals of louts. ‘kEL uyar naattaththuk kiriyin thOtraththaan.’ He appears as massive and as strong as the mountains. ‘thOlodu thOl sela thodandh nOkkurin, neeLiya alla kaN.’ His shoulders are so broad that it is not possible for me to drink the beauty of his appearance, from one shoulder to the other. They are so broad that they cannot be measured even by eyes. ‘nediya maarbu.’ His chest is broad.

She decided that this was the man for her. That is the trouble with demons. Or, with persons with demonic qualities. Once they develop a desire for the other person, they do not wait to know whether the other person is married or not. They do not even have the patience to know whether the other person has the same kind of desire, if not love, so that the relationship can bloom into a meaningful and fruitful conjugal life in harmony. They are so presumptuous that they feel that they grant the other person a favour by developing a desire for him or her and have the arrogance to feel that he or she has no choice but to accept the supposed ‘love’, just as the person throwing alms at the beggar would feel that the latter does not have a right to deny what is given.

She immediately approached Rama, seeking his hand. Kamban builds up the drama, showing her approaching him, assuming the form of a comely maiden. Rama is amused at this demon of a woman unabashedly approaching him and seeking his hand, introducing herself as the sister of Kubera and Ravana. That follows Rama playing a little joke on her. She is directed to Lakshmana. Lakshmana turns her back to Rama, saying that his only a slave of the latter. The dialogues are rather long and humorous.

When this was going on, Sita appeared on the scene. ‘Who could this woman be!’ thought a bewildered Surpanakha, who was not able to digest the fact that there could be this lovely a woman by the side of ‘her lover’ on whom she had developed possessive feelings. ‘He looks like a sage and is in the hermit’s weeds. He carries weapons and it is not likely that he would have brought his wife to the jungle,’ she thought for a while. ‘How can the Mahalakshmi come to the Dandaka forest, without my knowledge,’ she would think for the next moment. ‘If her beauty takes my breath away, what would it not do to her man!’ she would sigh.

‘Whatever it is,’ she thought, ‘this woman should be eliminated. For he would not accept me as long as she is by his side.’

Darling or demon?

Rama is amused at the quick judgement that Surpanakha is capable of. He is not able to resist the temptation to play the game her way…

There are minor differences in Kamban’s depiction of this scene, which is an elaboration on the original. The menacing advance of Surpanakha towards Sita takes place in Kamban, in the absence of Rama whereas in Valmiki, Rama is present in the scene. Let us confine ourselves for now to the events concerning Sita.

Surpanakha is a character that moves more on emotions and passions than on the intellect. If at all her intellect is at work, it works only from the other side. She soon proves all the misinterpretations and misrepresentations that she is capable of. However, it cannot be denied that some of the most sparkling and scintillating descriptions on the handsomeness and lustre of Rama and the comeliness of Sita roll out through her, in her soliloquy. When she chances to see Rama for the first time, Kamban uses the opportunity to describe the majestic personality of Rama to detail her immersion into infatuation with him. He once again makes Surpanakha to speak of the statuesque personality that Sita is, in another of Surpanakha’s soliloquy, to portray the development of jealousy in her against Sita.

Surpanakha of Kamban assumes an extremely beautiful appearance before she approaches Rama, unlike in Valmiki Ramayana. The presence of Sita by the side of Rama greatly annoys her. Even before knowing who this comely woman is, Surpanakha concludes that Sita must be another demoness who has assumed this beautiful form – like what she has done at present – in order to steal the heart of Rama. ‘varum ival maayam vallaL,’ she ‘warns’ Rama, even as Sita approaches them. This woman who walks to us now is capable of all kinds of illusory tricks. ‘vanjanai arakki.’ She is a cunning ogress. ‘nenjam therivu ila.’ It is not easy to understand her intentions. ‘thErum thanmai sIriyOi! sevvidhu andraal.’ It is not right or proper to conclude that she a nice-looking and good woman (like me!). ‘uru idhu meyyadhu andraal.’ What she looks to be is utterly false. She is a demoness who has assumed this form. ‘Un nugar vaazhkkayaaLai,’ (I know it for certain that) she survives on flesh. She eats all kinds of flesh. ‘veruvinan.’ My darling of a warrior, I am afraid of this woman(!) ‘eydhidaamal vilakkudhi vIra.’ Let her not come here. Kick her away from this place!

Rama is really amused at the ‘quick and wise’ judgement that this ‘seemingly beautiful maiden’ (Surpanakha) is capable of. He is not able to resist the temptation to play the game her way and to taunt and tease her a little, she who dared to describe his darling as a demoness. ‘Oh! I see,’ he assumed the tone of mock-appreciation. ‘Your ability to judge people amazes me. Is she a demoness? I didn’t know that!’ That encouraged Surpanakha to take a step further. ‘Here! Go away!’ she threatened Sita. ‘Are you not able to see that we are exchanging sweet-nothings? ‘nee edhir vandhadu enna, nirudhar tham paavai?’ How did you come between us, you Rakshasa maiden! Run away from this place’

Sita was scared by this. In the first instance, she had accidentally come there. Surpanakha is in human form – and a very beautiful one at that. She is not able to understand what is happening here. And suddenly this ‘woman’ is calling her names and threatens her to leave the spot that very moment. She went behind Rama. ‘kunjaram Anaya vIran kuvavuth thOL thazhuvik koNdaaL.’ She embraced the shoulders of Rama from behind him, in an attempt to seek his protection. That enraged Surpanakha more.

A fanatic turning frantic

Kamban develops her lust for Rama, further. What would a demoness with enormous and limitless power do, when her mind is propelled by tender feelings?

Though the events follow in quick succession in Valmiki Ramayana, Kamban takes his own time to develop them. Surpanakha is warned by Rama and stopped from her advance, for the moment, towards Sita. She watched them – standing outside the precincts of the parnasala – disappearing into the hermitage. She stood there for some time, frozen, as though she had lost the use of her senses, the fire of her agony eating her heart away.

‘thakkilan,’ she thought. No. He might not (consider me) worthy. ‘manaththuL yaadhum thazhuvilan.’ His mind is not inclined towards me. His thoughts are not for me. ‘chalamum koNdaan.’ Added to the fact that he is not attracted to me, he is now angry with me. ‘maik karum kuzhalinaaL maatu anbinil valiyan.’ His love for that woman with dark, cascading hair is stronger than anything else.

Having seen what has happened and having understood that she does not mean anything to Rama, she must have given up her pursuit. But it is not in the blood of Rakshasa nature to give up. It is self-centred. It has no concern for the feelings, desires and the values that the other person holds. It would persist in getting what it desires, whatever be the means and whatever be the results that may roll out.

It is not the Rakshasa race that we are talking about. It is the Rakshasa nature. Considering the fact that Vibishana, Trijata and others like Prahlada were born in that race and considering the fact that it was this race that Vibishana ruled after the death of Ravana, it is not possible to attribute these qualities to the race. In fact, it is not necessary that the Rakshasa nature could be found only in a Rakshasa. It is not that difficult to find humans with these qualities and there have been celestials – not excluding Indra – whose minds get clouded with the Rakshasa qualities and swerve from what they stand for and suffer the consequences.

‘He will not think of me, however charming and lovely the form that I assume may be’ Surpanakha concluded. Kamban develops her lust for Rama, further. What would a demoness with enormous and limitless power do, when her mind is propelled by tender feelings? The heart is overridden by tender feelings and is driven mad, while the body encasing such a mind is mammoth in proportion and matchless in powers. She goes berserk that night. The clouds in the sky, with the hue of Rama, appear to be Rama himself to her. She would grab them and embrace them tight to her. ‘The moon and the cupid are setting me on fire,’ she would fume. ‘kalai uva madhiyE curry aaga van silai maaranaith thinnum ninaippinaaL,’ puts the Poet with his own touch of humour. The next moment she would think of gobbling Cupid, with moon for the side dish!

Kamban works her emotions up to such an extent that Surpanakha is not only fanatic, but also frantic. ‘Unless this woman is eliminated,’ she decides, ‘he won’t even look at me.’

‘The most kindest cut’

Lakshmana could have killed her that day, as did Rama in the case of Tataka, the grandmother of Surpanakha. He exercised the ‘bare minimum’ force…

It was the morning of the next day. Rama was away for performing the morning’s rituals – sandhi – and Lakshmana was guarding the parnasala, from his usual place outside the precincts of the hermitage. Surpanakha visited the place once again. She looked for Rama first and understood that he was not there. She could see that Sita was alone. She did not see that Sita is being fiercely guarded by Lakshmana. ‘This is the right time,’ she thought, ‘to grab her and take her away and eliminate her. If I do that, I would have eliminated the biggest of all obstacles and then there would be nothing to stop Rama from falling in love with me!’

Quite a wonderful solution indeed! ‘I am not able to be there, just because she is there. I will be able to gain access to his mind and remain by his side, if I am able to eliminate her.’ That sounds logical undoubtedly. But what the demoness does not understand is that this is not something like taking out ‘this vessel which is not needed very frequently’ from the shelf when there is no space, and putting the other vessel in its place. The funny thing is that Surpanakha is not able to see that the space within is not like the space without. You do not take out one to create room for the other. And in the inner space, there are certain areas which remain a vacuum and void, if that which occupies the particular space moves away, just because it is irreplaceable.

Surpanakha looks for quick and easy solution, not understanding the intricacies and subtleties of mind and its feelings. Feelings? Who cares! Just eliminate the most endeared of the person and expect that he would fall in love with you after that! In fact, it is the way in which Ravana thinks, too! ‘Kill that two-handed insect and then there would be nothing to stop her from falling in love with me.’

She moved into the parnasala to achieve her object. Lakshmana was too quick for her. He read her mind in a trice and jumped in from where he was guarding his endeared sister-in-law, who is in fact the incarnation of his own mother, for him. ‘nil adI enak kaduginan.’ He rushed in, shouting ‘Stop there!’ ‘peN ena ninaiththaan.’ He restrained himself from harming her because of the fact that Surpanakha is a woman. ‘vil edaadhu,’ he did not take his bow in hand. ‘vIngu eri aam ena virindha sil val Odhiyaith thirugu urap patri,’ He took hold of her brownish-red hair that resembled fire, in his hand instead. ‘ollai eerththu udhaiththu,’ He quickly pulled her and kicked her to stop her from moving any further towards Sita. ‘oLi kiLar vaaL uruvi.’ He unsheathed his sword. That was a very restrained act, intended to restrain this demon of a woman from harming Sita.

But Surpanakha could not be stopped by that. That was not the ‘minimum force’, which was required to stop her. That was not sufficient. ‘I will take her with me and jump to the sky,’ she thought. She grabbed Sita in one hand and attempted to move towards the sky. Lakshmana then expanded the area of the ‘minimum force’ that was required to stop her. He severed her earlobes and nose. Surpanakha saw what this human is capable of and left Sita.

Lakshmana could have killed her that day, as did Rama in the case of Tataka, the grandmother of Surpanakha. He exercised the ‘bare minimum’ force – ‘the most kindest cut’ – to stop her from harming Janaki.

That set the ball rolling.

The Turning Point I

If it was Manthara the hunchbacked who turned the events in the direction of destruction of Ravana and Kaikeyi who prepared the ground for it…

Kamban takes the drama still further, depicting Surpanakha’s passions for Rama remaining unrelenting even after she has lost her nose and earlobes. The rollicking laughter that the scenes invoke right from the time Surpanakha arrives and other finer de tails involving Surpanakha, concern the character traits of Rama and therefore would be dealt with later.

Similarly, the first battle at Panchavati, with Khara and Dusana, a battle that prepares the stage for the Yuddha Kanda, the way in which Rama faces the massive army and remains steadfast and unruffled even when his bow breaks into two in the war with Khara, deserve to be studied when we take up Rama. Now for the bare minimum details that led to the development of events.

The wild passions that Surpanakha developed for Rama did not die even when she was maimed, even when she brought Khara and his men against Rama, even when she ran to Lanka with the most cunning and stunning interpretation of how and why it started. ‘I intended to bring that most beautiful woman for you because whatever is best naturally belongs to you,’ she would turn the attention of Ravana on Sita, fanning the fire of lust in him and rekindling his taste for violating innocent and helpless women – married or not – even against their wish, from its dying embers. This was a taste that Ravana learnt to keep under check with the curses of Vedavati and Brahma himself.

Even at that time, we hear Surpanakha, after developing the desire of Ravana in the direction of Sita, ‘to covet Sita for himself and leave Rama for her.’ If it was Manthara the hunchbacked who turned the events in the direction of destruction of Ravana and Kaikeyi prepared the ground for it, it was Surpanakha who took the purpose behind the avatar, to the point of its fruition.

The manner in which this was achieved, the lust of Ravana was fanned and it took shape into a detailed plan to send Marica in the form of a golden deer were discussed when we studied Ravana, starting with The Venom has its Way, and a few instalments following that.

The interesting point is that Sita argued Rama taking to the weapon without a reason against the ogres. ‘Why should you kill them when they did not harm you directly,’ was her question, which Rama answered. As though the convincing answer of her husband is not sufficient, she becomes a very valid and strong reason for Rama to take the weapon in his arms for the slaying of Ravana.

The Turning Point II

It was the second lease of life for Märïca. The arrow of Rama had killed his brother Subahu, while guarding the penance of Viswamitra and had merely thrown him into the sea

It was just another day for them at Panchavati, until the arrival of the golden deer. Ravana, who had not even seen Janaki till that time and for some more time to come, had chalked out a very detailed plan and had precisely predicted the events that would follow when Märïca appeared there assuming that form. This is what he tells Märïca when he details his plan:

“Hear now about the role which has to be played by you by way of help (to me) at my instance. Assuming the form of a golden deer freckled with silvery spots, roam you at the hermitage of the said Rama before Sita. Beholding you in the form of a deer, Sita for her part will undoubtedly say to her lord and Lakshmana, “Let it be captured.” Then, rid of all hindrance at their exit, I shall for my part bear Sita away in solitude, as does Rahu take away the splendour of the moon. After that with my inner mind satisfied (as a result of my object having been accomplished) I shall with ease confidently strike at Rama emaciated through the abduction of his wife.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto XXXVI, Sloka 17 – 21)

An excellent display of his understanding of the human mind and its frailties! He has a special eye for spotting weaknesses and making them work in his favour. Märïca has a special talent for assuming the form of a deer and this is evidenced by his assuming this form earlier, when he came to know Rama was living in the Dandakaranya. He was impelled by the desire for taking revenge by killing Rama, who had earlier killed his mother Tataka and his brother Subahu.

He assumed the form a deer and along with two of his friends, who had assumed the same form as well, tried to attack Rama with their sharp horns. Rama killed the other two with his quick arrows. ‘I slipped away and escaped his arrows,’ he tells Ravana. “Belittling Rama, who had retired to the forest, even though he was possessed of great might, thinking that he was an ascetic (only), and recalling my past enmity (with him), I rushed towards him, highly enraged, in the form of a sharp-horned deer, thoughtlessly seeking to kill him, remembering as I did the blow dealt by him. Stretching at full length his very mighty bow, three sharp arrows – which were capable of putting an end to the enemy and which sped like Garuda (the king of birds and the carrier of Lord Vishnu) and the wind – were let loose by him. All those three most dreadful and flat-knobbed arrows, which shone brightly as lightning, and were fond of sucking-blood – sped (towards) me together. Knowing as I did the prowess of Rama and having seen the peril (to which I had exposed myself) on a previous occasion, I slipped away, cunning as I was, and was thereby saved (since the arrow of Rama never hits a fugitive) while both those ogres were killed.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto XXXIX, Sloka 9 – 13)

It was the second lease of life for Märïca. The arrow of Rama had killed his brother Subahu, while guarding the penance of Viswamitra and had merely thrown him into the sea, leaving him unharmed. As Märïca himself would put it, “By him was discharged at that time a sharp arrow capable of destroying the enemy. Struck by it I was cast into the sea, which as a hundred Yojanas (800 miles) long.” (Ibid, Canto XXXVIII, Sloka 19) Märïca was allowed to live his days, just for achieving one purpose. And the second time when he tried to attack Rama, he was spared once again, most obviously to serve the obvious purpose.

Spared for the second time, he was leading the life of an ascetic very peacefully. Ravana who had decided on his plan recalled his talent for assuming the form of a deer and this time he had a different assignment – he was supposed to assume the form of a golden deer, just to ensure that this deer is something very special and irresistible.

Naughty dear or knotty deer?

A gem-studded golden deer! That may sound odd and weird. But it is not so. Only, one has to understand the Poet’s ways of looking at things around him…

The Poets take delight in presenting a vivid description of the golden deer. Naturally so. One has in the first instance to understand why Janaki fell in love with this particular deer when there were thousands of deer roaming about in the jungle. They were there in the jungle for more than ten years now and it is not unusual that they come across a deer that arrests the attention of Vaidehi. If she has to be enticed, if she has to be enraptured, if she has to take a fancy for it, it has of necessity to be unusual. It has to be so unusual and extraordinary that it captures her attention right at the first sight. Here is how Valmiki describes the deer:

“Assuming a remarkable form presenting a wonderful sight, the aforesaid ogre for his part turned in an instant into a most attractive deer, with the tips of its horns bright as sapphire, its head partly white and partly dark, the upper part of its snout bearing the hue of a red lotus and the lower that of a blue lotus, its ears shining as sapphire and resembling a blue lotus, its neck slightly projecting upwards, its belly having the hue of a sapphire, its flanks pale as a Madhuka flower and the animal (itself) shining brightly like the filaments of a lotus, its hoofs resembling a cat’s-eye gem and body well-compacted with slender legs and looking splendid with its tail resembling the rainbow at the top and wearing a charming glossy skin freckled with a number of jewel-like spots. (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto XLII, Sloka 14 – 19)

Kamban gives a similar description. ‘aaNip ponnin aagiyadhu,’ coos an excited Sita. Its body is made of pure gold. ‘aai kadhiraal sENil sudargindradhu thiN sevi kaal’ Its earlobes, legs and its entire body glow in sunshine. You are able to see the glow even from a very long distance. ‘maaNikka mayththu oru maan uLadhaal.’ There is deer (in the jungle out there) that shines like a solid piece of gem-studded gold. ‘kaaNath thagum enak kai thozhudhaaL.’ ‘It deserves to be seen my Lord! Come this way with me O please!’ So saying, she joined her palms pleadingly, may be with the child’s fear of being subjected to rejection.

A gem-studded golden deer! That may sound odd and weird. But it is not so. Only, one has to understand the Poet’s ways of looking at things around him. His instantaneous joy leads him to utterances ineffable. Translated in everyday language, what the Poets describe would mean this. The skin of the deer was glowing as if light radiated from within its body. The spots on its body were not only silvery; but had different colours that reflected or absorbed light differently so that every spot dazzled differently, like diamonds.

Valmiki adds a touch of reality. The deer (we call it deer more out of habit; because it has been referred to as ‘golden deer’ for a very long time. It is more appropriate to call it a stag) came very close to the hermitage, was sighted by Sita, and it disappeared immediately, to reappear after about an hour or so, making her ache for another glimpse of it. It reappeared, went round her in circles while she was in the garden around the hermitage and ran away to join the herds of other deer. With an amazing kind of understanding of the strong intuition that animals posses, Valmiki adds this: “(Nay) while coming near Sita he spun round describing a number of circles. Gazing on him from a distance, approaching him and snuffing him, all the other deer that haunted that forest scattered in all directions.” (Ibid, Sloka 28)

Other deer came closed to him, sniffed him, understood the difference and ran away. ‘Märïca had great difficulty that day,’ Valmiki jokes, ‘of restraining himself from killing those deer that came so close to him, as he was fond of deer-meat.’

But that sense of reality harms the drama. It betrays the golden deer and has a cause for suspicion inherent in it. If not Sita, Rama might suspect and would want to know the reason why other deer are running away from it. He changed the picture slightly. ‘kalai maan mudhal aayina kaNda elaam,’ other herds of stag and deer saw this one ‘alai maan urum aasayil vandhanavaal,’ their minds were filled with the desire for the golden deer and came running to it, flocking it all around.

Too happy in thy happiness

She became the child that she is once again. She was as joyous as a child on seeing the deer. She is actually overtaken by euphoria.

If the reader would recall, Sita has a special liking for pet animals and birds. ‘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. This was the message that she sent back home to her sisters when Sumantra asks for her messages to her sisters. Her parrot and mynah were uppermost in her mind more than anything else. (See: Take care of my parrot…)

She became the child that she is once again. She was as joyous as a child on seeing the deer. She is actually overtaken by euphoria. She summoned her Lord and Lakshmana immediately to have a look at the animal that had stolen her heart. “Come along, come soon my lord, with your younger brother (Lakshmana)!’ Calling again and again (as above) she looked intently on the deer once more.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto XLIII, Sloka 3)

Applying a bit of transactional analysis, one can very easily see that Janaki is in her child-state. Her joy is contagious and spreads quickly to the mind of Rama. He is impressed by the deer, no doubt. But what made him happy was to see his beloved wife in an absolute state of ecstasy. As Keats would put it in his Ode on a Nightingale, it was nothing but “being too happy in thy happiness.”

She has accompanied him to the forest out of her own will, love and affection. She has so joyfully accepted the difficulties of the life in forest. For a queen like her, it was not that easy to get adjusted to the changed environment; but she did not complain on a single occasion all these ten years and more. Time had drifted like a dream in her company, though they did not lead the regular life of a couple in the everyday sense of the word. They followed the Dharma of the householder; but they did not lead the life of a couple, in the physical sense, though love abounded in their minds aplenty.

Rama was charmed by her joy. He knew that she would want him to capture the deer. He knew very well that in her heart, Sita would nurse tender feelings for the animal. He knew what she would ask of him the very next moment. His mind was getting ready for the task that his love would set for him.

But Lakshmana, who was not at all affected by what was going on, retained his intellect, very quickly came to the right conclusion, and pronounced his judgement.

“Seized with suspicion to see it, Lakshmana for his part observed as follows: - I conclude this deer to be the same as that ogre, Märïca. Hunting game in the forest with delight, many kings, O Rama, have been killed by assuming a deceptive form by this sinful ogre, who is capable of assuming any form at will. This effulgent form of a deer assumed by him, O tiger among men, is a hoax on the part of the ogre – who is well-versed in conjuring tricks – and is much like a magic show. To be sure no such deer freckled with jewel-like spots exists on the face of the earth, O scion of Raghu! It is surely a phantom, O ruler of the globe; there is no doubt about it.” (Ibid, Sloka 5 – 8) " jagatyaam jagatInAtha mAyaishA hi na samsaya:"

‘I know for certain that this is none other than Märïca,’ says Lakshmana. He is able to see through the conjuring trick played by the ogre, right at the very beginning.

Now, Rama is pulled in opposite directions for the very first time. On the one side, his better half is bubbling with happiness. This happiness is avalanching on him. She appeals to his heart and he has no mind to disappoint her. On the other side, his brother whose feet are planted firmly in wisdom appeals to his intellect. He very clearly sees through the trick and pronounces his judgement.

Rama is left to perform the art of balancing between the heart and the brain.

Hari Krishnan