by Vanamali
“My Lord!” she said, “Do you have to go to battle tomorrow? Can you not change your mind?”
Gently he pulled her away from him and said, “My faithful one, you know I have to go, but please believe me, I will never let you down.”
“You have never let me down, my Lord. From the day you married me, you have given me nothing but delight. How can I forget?”
“You must believe me,” said Ravana. “Put your faith and hope in me once more—just once more. I will not let you down.”
“You are my beloved husband. I know that you will never let me down.”
Ravana held her in his arms once more and said, “Farewell, my love.”
She watched him sadly while he climbed up the ramparts of the castle for the last time. He sang the Sama hymns (the second book of the Vedas is the Sama Veda, or Book of Song), in which he was expert. Singing these sacred songs, he had once so pleased Shiva, the Lord of the world, that Shiva had granted him all his desires. And now the whole of nature seemed to be providing an accompaniment for his chants, with the sighing of the wind, the lashing of the waves, and the eerie creaking of the trees as they swayed to and fro, in tune with the rhythm of his chant. He lifted up his foot, brought it down again and again and began to dance. His breath came fast, but he felt calm. He threw back his head, waved his arms, and spun around. The wind was rushing around him, and even the gods came to watch. Blue flames shimmered around his form high above Lanka, and electricity crackled in his long loose hair. Rama and the animals saw him from down below and watched fascinated as Ravana’s mighty figure, silhouetted against the sky, swayed and flowed with his own music.
At last, with the approach of midnight, amavasya, the night of the new moon, the wind dropped, the waves calmed down, and Ravana came down for his final battle.
The tenderness with which Valmiki describes Ravana’s final parting from his wife, and the arresting, dramatic images of his preparation for battle, in which Ravana is treated with a dignity approaching reverence, remind us of his role as fatally flawed tragic hero. Once a great Brahmin and a revered and trusted leader, his wanton pride and excess of appetite had brought him to his doom.
For the first time there was a tinge of fear in Ravana’s voice as he ordered the last of his generals to get ready for battle, for he had decided to go himself and avenge the death of all his loved ones. He wore his night armor made of finely woven black steel and donned his dark helmet that hid his face. Over his chariot was raised the battle banner of Lanka, made of golden cloth. Tied loosely on the flagstaff were ten golden arrows, for the ten directions of his empire. The chariot was protected with shields and plates cut from brass. It was equipped with all the latest weaponry and gleaming with jewels. It was loaded with tough, horn-tipped arrows, a long straight sword, and a heavy eight-sided mace. As it was driven to the gate, Ravana leaped into it like a tiger and took the reins himself. He rode out into the streets, and the demon warriors who lined the streets cheered and clapped as he thundered down. He chose to take the fifth gate, the gate of illusion, and rose up like a huge black swan into the midnight sky.
The vanaras were watching all four gates, but Ravana, perhaps fittingly, came through the illusory gate in the sky, and he landed in their midst with a thud. As he emerged from the gate, it is said that in the pitch black sky of this dark night of the moon, the wind began to blow, owls started to hoot, and jackals started to howl. Clouds rained drops of blood and horses tripped and fell. Ravana’s face lost its customary glow and his voice became hoarse. His left arm and eye started to throb. All these omens were indicative of death.
Paying no heed to any of these omens, he drove at a fast pace through the ranks of the monkeys, accompanied by the remnants of his loyal ministers. In the distance, he could see the golden tips of Rama’s bow. He was standing on the ground, totally unafraid. Ravana pushed through the ranks of the monkeys and fought like one possessed. None of the vanaras were able to face the onslaught of his fury. Like a lake drying up as summer advances, the simian forces were decreasing as more and more of them fell dead. Ravana hardly glanced at them, for he was bent on reaching Rama. As he saw him approach, Rama asked all the animals to go behind him, for this was the moment he had been waiting for and he preferred to face his enemy alone.
Ravana ordered his charioteer to take him to Rama. He preferred to forget their first encounter, when Rama had treated him so chivalrously. He saw Rama holding his famous bow, the Kodanda, with Lakshmana beside him, and the thought crossed his mind that he looked like Narayana himself with Indra by his side. Since Ravana was seated in his chariot, Hanuman offered to carry Rama, as that would enable him to face him on an equal footing. In the battle that followed, Hanuman skillfully dodged every weapon sent by Ravana so that not even a scratch fell on Rama! Rama managed to shoot an arrow that severed Ravana’s head, but to his surprise another head grew back instantly. This happened several times, and Ravana laughed mockingly at the puzzled look on Rama’s face. Frustrated, Rama left the field to Lakshmana and sought Vibhishana’s advice.
Vibhishana said, “I’m not sure, but it is rumored that there is a pond in Ravana’s garden into which a drop of the nectar of immortality fell when Jayanta was carrying it away. The lotuses that grow there are imbued with the power to regenerate the body and heal even the most lethal of wounds. Ravana must be eating these lotuses every time he is injured and thus getting rejuvenated.”
Hanuman immediately took the form of a bee and discovered the fabled lotus lake. He swallowed all the lotuses and drained the pool of water, and returned as fast as he had gone.
In the meantime Lakshmana had been longing to come to grips with Ravana and shot a number of shafts at him, resembling tongues of fire. Ravana intercepted them with ease and split them with his own. He then passed over Lakshmana and stood face-to-face with Rama, letting fly a shower of arrows at him. Rama retaliated in kind, and soon the sky was overcast with arrows of various kinds. The shafts were extremely sharp-pointed, adorned with plumes of vultures, and flew with amazing speed. They were well-matched, both equally skilled, and adept in the use of different missiles. Ravana’s arrows had the heads of lions, tigers, geese, and vultures as well as jackals and wolves. Rama countered all his arrows with ease, much to the joy of the monkeys.
Again Lakshmana came to the fore and with a single arrow, he felled Ravana’s splendid banner, which had been fluttering in the breeze. Lakshmana could still see his sister-in-law’s piteous face when she had begged him to go after Rama outside their hut in Panchavati. Keeping this in mind, he severed the head of Ravana’s charioteer with a single arrow. Then with five whetted shafts, Lakshmana split asunder Ravana’s huge bow, which resembled the trunk of an elephant. Vibhishana now rushed forward and struck his huge horses with his mace and killed them. Ravana was furious and sent his famous Shakti weapon at his brother. Lakshmana intervened and saved him. Ravana decided it was high time he put an end to this impudent brother of Rama’s. His green eyes sparkling with copper fire and roaring like a lion, Ravana hurled a javelin made by Mayan, endowed with magic powers. It sizzled through the air, making a horrendous noise. It flew like an awesome meteor at its target. Rama saw it going toward his beloved brother and quickly made a sankalpa. “May you prove ineffectual! May your attempt to kill Lakshmana be frustrated.” However, though the missile lost its power to kill, it was still potent enough to knock Lakshmana down senseless.
Seeing Lakshmana lying in a pool of blood, Rama was totally unnerved. He ran and took him to his bosom, even though Ravana kept pelting him with his potent arrows. He then shouted to Hanuman and Sugriva to come and take care of Lakshmana since he would not leave until the ten-headed monster was killed. He had many scores to settle with him.
“It is obvious that the world cannot contain the two of us. Either he or I will have to die. You may all take vantage positions on the hill and watch, for this battle will be talked about as long as the world remains, as long as the earth stands above the sea, an
d as long as living beings inhabit this earth!”
All the pent-up fury he had against Ravana, which he had been bottling up for eleven months, now rose to the surface, and he fought like a mad tusker.
Then followed a tremendous battle between the two. However, the rakshasas were night stalkers and with the approach of day, they became weaker, and Ravana perceptibly started to lose his strength. This encounter with Rama was even fiercer than the previous one, and the spectators could only hear the twang of the bowstrings and the clap of their palms as they released the arrows from the bows. At last, stung and pierced by the numerous gold-tipped arrows sent from Rama’s flaming bow, Ravana fled from the field. Rama gladly turned his attention to his brother who lay unconscious. He begged Sugriva’s court physician to do something to save him. Again he repeated the sentiments he felt at his brother’s first calamity.
“If my brother dies, I care not if I win or lose the war. I do not desire the kingdom or even my life. I seem to have lost the desire even to rescue Sita. A wife like her may perhaps be found, but I will never find another like Lakshmana, who was born with me and was like my shadow and who has been my sole support and comfort during these dark days.” So saying, Rama sobbed over the body of Lakshmana.
The physician said, “My Lord! Lakshmana’s face has not lost its glow, which makes me believe that he is still alive. His skin does not have the darkness that is associated with death. His palms are still pink and soft. Moreover, he has all the auspicious signs of a long-lived man. So please do not grieve.”
Turning to Hanuman, he requested him to go once again to the Himalayas and bring back the herbs known as mritasanjivani and vishalyakarani, which have the property of bringing a person back to consciousness. Before he could complete his sentence, Hanuman had winged his way to the north, but as before, he could not recognize the medicinal herb in question, so once again he lifted the whole peak and carried it back so that the physician could choose what he wanted. When he breathed the healing fragrance of the herb, which the physician crushed and held to his nostrils, Lakshmana woke up as if from sleep with no loss of energy or signs of fatigue. Rama was overjoyed to see him totally recovered. Shedding tears of joy, he clasped him to his bosom and exclaimed, “My dearest brother! My life would have been purposeless without you. Neither Sita nor kingdom would have meant anything.”
Lakshmana was embarrassed at this and said, “O Rama, you have taken a vow to kill Ravana today and rescue the gentle princess of Videha. That should be your aim now. Never mind about me. Challenge him to a fight. Before the sun sets, you should kill him.”
Then both of them embraced Hanuman and blessed him for having come to their rescue for the second time.
Diseases vanish and pain removed,
O Great Hero, when your name is repeated constantly.
SRI HANUMAN CHALISA BY TULSIDAS
Aum Sri Hanumathe Namaha!
Aum Dhumraketave Namaha!
26
Virupa
The End of Ravana
All glorious shone forth Raghupati on the field of battle,
In his immeasurable might and manifold beauty,
With the drops of toil on his lotus face,
With his lovely eyes and body specked with blood,
While in both hands he brandished his bow and arrows,
With the bears and monkeys grouped round him.
RAMACHARITAMANAS BY TULSIDAS
Rama knew that his brother spoke the truth, but he went into a reverie and for a moment felt that perhaps he might not be able to defeat Ravana. Seeing him looking utterly exhausted and sitting in deep thought, the sage Agastya came to him and gave him the great hymn known as the Aditya Hridayam. It is a hymn to the sun god, said to have the power to overcome all obstacles.
“O Prince of the solar race—mighty armed Rama!” he said. “Listen to this ancient mantra, by which you will be able to vanquish your foe in battle. The presiding deity of this hymn is the sun, and if it is chanted fervently, it will result in the destruction of your enemies and bring you victory and unending bliss. It is guaranteed to destroy all sins and allay all anxiety. Worship the golden-orbed deity of the sun therefore with this hymn, for he represents the totality of all celestial beings.”
The all-knowing sage knew that Rama was Narayana incarnate, but he also knew that he was unaware of his divinity, and so he initiated him into the esoteric mantra as a guru would initiate an ordinary mortal. By the sincere chanting of this holy hymn, not only will material obstacles be removed but also all obstacles on the path of the seeker of eternal truth. He advised Rama to look at the sun and repeat it and he would surely be victorious in battle. Hearing this, Rama was thrilled, and gazing intently at the rising sun, he repeated the hymn with all fervor and sincerity.
“O Lord of Victory! Lord of the East! Lord of the West! O thou immeasurable one! Thou resplendent one! Golden-limbed creator of the universe! Witness of all the actions of all created beings! Again and again I bow to you!”
Rama belonged to the solar race, and as he repeated the hymn three times, the sun burst forth in all his glory, as if he applauded Rama’s decision and urged him to hurry up with the deed on hand!
At dawn Ravana also offered prayers to his favorite deity, Shiva, and prepared to ride to the battlefield.
After chanting the Aditya Hridayam, Rama was filled with enthusiasm and challenged Ravana to come out. He was clad in bark with matted hair and walked barefoot.
The demon king watched in scorn as Rama came forward looking like a hermit. Suddenly a star seemed to come down from heaven. As it approached him, Rama saw that it was a brilliant aerial car with weapons that shone like lamps drawn by ten silver gray horses. Its many fan blades were spinning and silver wheels flashing as it landed softly, close to Rama. The charioteer jumped out and bowed to him and said, “I am Matali, Indra’s charioteer. These are Indra’s rain steeds, the misty runners of the sky. O King of the solar race, Indra as sent me here to take you to victory.”
“Welcome to you,” said Rama and sprang lightly onto the chariot.
Matali touched the horses and told them to advance. They rushed forward with flashing silver shoes.
Ravana’s chariot leaped forward to intercept them. A fierce battle began between the two. The gods assembled in the sky to witness this final scene. The animals and demons took up safe positions to watch this concluding scene.
The charioteers drove their respective chariots in a series of skilful and bewildering maneuvers. Both Rama and Ravana discharged a number of deadly arrows charged with various potent mantras. The snake arrows of Ravana, which flew with unerring precision at Rama, spitting poison from their wide open mouths, were foiled by the eagle arrows of Rama. Eagles are the avowed enemies of snakes. The sky became dark with arrows flying in the air, colliding and negating each other with horrendous noises resembling thunderclaps. The world trembled to witness the wrath of Rama. The sun lost its brilliance, and the sea came in huge waves to watch the terrifying spectacle. The terrible frown on Rama’s face, which was so seldom seen, made even Ravana tremble in terror. Birds and beasts ran about in panic. Valmiki says that just as the ocean can only be compared with the ocean and the sky with the sky, so the battle between Rama and Ravana can only be compared to the battle between Rama and Ravana!
At last Ravana took hold of a javelin that was covered with spikes and had a sharp point that was sizzling and blazing like a huge fire, as if it were anxious to go and find its rest on Rama’s chest, and he sent it flying at Rama.
He roared, “This will make short work of you and your brother, O scion of the race of Raghu!”
Rama immediately countered with a host of arrows, but they were all burned to ashes by the fury of Ravana’s javelin. In a trice Rama took up the javelin sent by Indra, which had been kept in the chariot, and hurled it with all force at the oncoming dart of Ravana’s. The two weapons collided in mid-air and Ravana’s javelin broke into a thousand splinters and fell on the ground
, its power totally exhausted. Ravana immediately took another missile and shattered Rama’s pennant. Rama turned to Hanuman and said, “O Vayu Putra! Get me another flagstaff immediately and do thou be seated on my flag and terrify the enemy.”
Hanuman immediately cut off a branch from a sal tree, hoisted it on top of the chariot, and sat on it himself. From this vantage point he cast his eyes on all sides and gave the most ferocious and terrifying roars.
Now Rama spoke to Ravana, “You call yourself a hero after having abducted Sita when she was alone and unattended in the ashrama. What chance did she have against brute force? You are nothing but a thief and a molester of women and a coward. But beware! Your head will provide food for hungry vultures and your blood with be lapped by wolves before the day is over!” With these words Rama harassed Ravana with hundreds of arrows.
Ravana was beginning to be unnerved by Rama’s unflagging enthusiasm and barrage of arrows and fell into a faint. Seeing the condition of his master, his charioteer skillfully steered the chariot away from Rama. When Ravana came out of his swoon he swore at his charioteer and ordered him to drive fast to the midst of the fray.
“Ravana never turns his back on his enemies,” he said. “He does not retreat until he has wiped out his foes!”
