In the forest there are no boundaries, no rules. As he stepped in, Ram remembered his ancestors and said, ‘Ram may leave Ayodhya, but Ayodhya shall never leave Ram.’ Then glancing towards Sita, he added, ‘As Videha has never left Sita.’
Dandaka was the great forest south of Aryavarta that thrived on the Gangetic plains.
That the rape of his daughter makes Shukra turn a kingdom into a wilderness draws attention to the sanctity of boundaries. Humans create boundaries and humans violate them as well. To respect boundaries is the hallmark of humanity, an indicator of dharma. To disrespect them is to be bestial, to follow the path of adharma. Animals, who do not have imagination, do not have the wherewithal to create boundaries or violate them. This is what makes them innocent.
The epic Ramayana is aligned along the Dakshina-patha or the south highway that connects northern India to southern India while the epic Mahabharata is aligned along Uttara-patha or the north highway that connects western India to eastern India. Thus the two great epics cover the length and breadth of India.
Based on the details found in Valmiki’s Sanskrit Ramayana, many scholars are of the opinion that the events of the Ramayana did not take place beyond Central India. But for the faithful, based on the tales of pilgrims, sites of the Ramayana are located across the subcontinent and beyond, in Sri Lanka. Here one finds footprints (charan-chinnha) of Ram and temples of Shiva established by Ram.
Meeting Shanta
The trio decided to spend the night at the edge of the dreadful forest. Ram could not sleep. As the wind whistled, he watched the stars and sensed Sita watching him. ‘This too shall pass,’ she said. He knew that too, but knowledge is no antidote to anxiety. His mind was like the restless comet. ‘Let us enjoy what we have, my husband, rather than wonder about what we had or could have. Let us enjoy the stars,’ she said. So while Lakshman watched over the fire, Ram and Sita watched the skies until they were overtaken by sleep. Before he shut his eyes, however, Ram placed his bow between him and his wife, just in case.
At dawn, Sita woke up to find Ram and Lakshman at the feet of a beautiful woman. She had large eyes, a generous smile and a sensuous figure. Who was she? The lady noticed Sita, and called out, ‘Come here, little one. I am your husband’s elder sister, Shanta.’
Shanta made Sita sit on her lap and said, ‘Your decision to follow your husband to the forest is indeed a noble one. But it will not be easy for you to travel dressed as a bride, with two handsome men beside you, neither of them looking at you, one because he is a hermit and the other because you are his brother’s wife. Everywhere around, you will hear the mating calls of birds, you will see snakes and frogs and deer and tigers in intimate embrace, and you will smell flowers calling out to the bees and butterflies. Your body will cry out; how will you resist the call of your senses, Sita? And the rakshasas: they do not know the meaning of celibacy and fidelity. They will compel you and these two brothers of mine to satisfy their desires, for it is the most natural thing to do. What will you do then, Sita? How will you save yourself from your desires and those of the men around you? There are no boundaries in the forest, Sita. Where there are no boundaries, there is no violation.’
Sita wondered why Shanta was telling her these things. She had heard the feelings Shanta spoke of in the romantic stories and love songs of bards, but had never really felt them. Yes, she liked the way she had felt when Ram looked at her during the wedding ceremony and the few times they had met in the women’s courtyard, but now he never looked at her, at least not in that way. Is that what Shanta spoke of, or was it something else?
Sensing her thoughts, Shanta elaborated, ‘You are still young but your body is changing, my child. I can sense it. You will sense it too. It is as if your stepping into the forest has caused it to bloom. You are truly the daughter of the earth.’
Songs depicting conversations between Sita and Shanta are often found in South Indian folklore.
An implicit assumption is often made that Ram and Sita had conjugal relations before and during the exile. In fact, these are made rather explicit in some Sanskrit plays. But there is no child born of that supposed union, which is highly unlikely, considering that both are in the prime of their youth. So it is most likely that they lived celibate lives, Ram because he had sworn to be a hermit and Sita because she was the chaste wife of a celibate hermit. Lakshman was under no such obligation but he too chose celibacy out of solidarity with Ram and Sita. This celibacy adds to the tension of the narrative.
In the tales of Ram that are part of Tamil temple lore and Sri Vaishnava tradition, Ram sleeps with his bow between him and Sita, thus indicating his desire to live a celibate life.
Anasuya and Atri
Shanta took Sita to the hermitage of Anasuya and Atri. Anasuya, like Arundhati, was renowned for her chastity. Unlike Renuka, she had never wavered even in thought. And unlike Ahilya, she had never wavered in deed.
Once three handsome tapasvis came to her, while her husband was away, and said, ‘We have been fasting for twelve years. To break our fast we have to suckle on the breasts of a rishi’s wife. Will you help us?’ Anasuya agreed. She saw the three youths as the children she never had. So she uncovered herself and the three youths, of questionable intent, turned into three infants.
The wives of the youths then begged her forgiveness and Anasuya was surprised to learn their true intentions: they were seeking to seduce her, to destroy her reputation as the most chaste woman on earth. Anasuya forgave the tapasvis unconditionally, for in her view, despite performing tapasya, the youths were still children, seeking pleasure in trickery. She restored them to their original youthful forms and offered them food from her kitchen to break their fast.
In gratitude, the three youths blessed Anasuya that she would be mother of a great son, Datta, who would need no teacher; he would learn from all the things he saw: the sky, the earth, fire, water, wind, rocks, rivers, plants, animals, birds, insects, men and women. He would become Adinath, the primal teacher.
Anasuya welcomed Janaka’s daughter and took her under a flower-bearing tree, where she revealed to her the secrets of her body that had finally started to unfold. She gave Sita a garment, a garland and a pot of cream. The garment would never become dirty, the garland would never wither and the cream would always soften her skin.
‘Had you been in the palace, this would have been a great ceremony. Your father would have sent you gifts, so would your mother. Your mothers-in-law would bathe you in turmeric water and bedeck you with flowers. You would be given a courtyard of your own and when you felt ready, you would send areca nuts wrapped in betel leaves to your husband and invite him to show you the Arundhati star. But alas, for that to happen, you have to wait for fourteen years. What can I give you to compensate?’
‘The strength to survive these fourteen years in the forest, being true to both mind and body. My sister-in-law says it will not be easy,’ said Sita.
‘If you see chastity as an obligation, it will be tough, not otherwise,’ said Anasuya. ‘If you acknowledge the desires of your body, not suppress them, and reflect on what really matters to you in life, it will not be tough.’
Atri saw his wife bedeck Sita. So he asked Ram and Lakshman, ‘It is spring and the flower has bloomed. Can the bee resist the nectar?’
Lakshman spoke first: ‘My flower sleeps in Ayodhya. She will bloom fourteen years hence.’
Then Ram said, ‘I am not a bee. Neither am I a butterfly. I am a human, scion of the Raghu clan, who has to live as a hermit in the forest for fourteen years. Nothing will make my mind waver.’
Wondering if this was just a grand oration meant to impress or the genuine wisdom of a young prince, Atri said, ‘Do not punish yourself if you waver. Humans judge, nature does not.’
In folklore, the three ascetics who try to seduce Anasuya are Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva.
Datta or Dattatreya, son of Atri, is worshipped as Adinath, the primal teacher, and is considered a form of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. H
e is called Adinath because he has no guru and has gained wisdom by observing the world around him, according to the Avadhut Gita of the Bhagavat Purana.
The gift of cloth and cosmetics that Anasuya gives Sita reinforces the great value given to shringara, or beautifying the body, in Vedic times.
Sharabhanga’s Heaven
After bidding farewell to Anasuya and Atri, Sita and Dashratha’s sons came upon the hermitage of the old sage Sharabhanga, where they saw a wonderful sight. They saw Indra leaving the hermitage on his elephant that had white skin, six tusks and seven trunks.
On enquiry, the sage explained, ‘Indra invited me to his garden, Nandana-vana, located in the city of the devas, Amravati, located in the realm of the stars, where stands the Kalpataru tree under which all desires are fulfilled. But I have no desire for it.’
Lakshman asked the sage, ‘Is it not the purpose of yagna and tapasya to secure all that Indra possesses?’
‘No, son,’ said the sage. ‘Indra has everything, yet he lives in fear of losing it all. Swarga may be paradise, but it is no heaven.’
‘What is heaven then?’
‘Heaven is a place where there is no hunger.’
‘Does such a place exist?’
‘Under the Pole Star sits Shiva on a mountain of stone covered with snow. No grass grows there, but his bull, Nandi, does not complain. Nandi does not fear being eaten by Shakti’s tiger either. The snake around Shiva’s neck does not fear being eaten by Kartikeya’s peacock and it does not seek to eat Ganesha’s rat. Clearly, that is a place where there is no hunger. In Swarga there is prosperity, but no peace. I seek peace, I seek Kailas. That must be heaven.’
‘May we find the strength to outgrow hunger in these fourteen years,’ said Ram.
‘Brahma created the yagna to satisfy human hunger. Daksha created rules of society to compel people to satisfy each other’s hunger. Both were beheaded by Shiva, hoping they would realize the human potential to outgrow hunger itself.’
Sita said, ‘Not everyone can be Shiva. We need people who can feed us, comfort us, grant us meaning. We need people who care for others.’
‘You describe Vishnu: who has no hunger like Shiva, but cares for other people’s hunger. He is not driven by rules. He functions in affection.’
‘But society needs rules, until everyone can be Vishnu. Otherwise everyone will remain Indra,’ said Ram.
‘Indeed,’ said the sage, impressed by the young prince and his wife.
‘Brahma, Indra, Vishnu, Shiva. Where can we find them?’ asked Lakshman.
‘In your mind, Lakshman. We are all Brahma. We are all Indra. We are all Daksha. We can be Shiva. We can be Vishnu too,’ chuckled the sage, shutting his eyes and smiling in peace.
Indra is a deva, which European scholars translated to mean god in the Greek sense of the term. But in Hindu mythology, the word refers to a special class of beings who are adored but not quite enshrined in temples. A deeper reading reveals that Indra is a state of the human mind that craves a life of pleasure and power.
In Vedic hymns, Indra is much adored as a great warrior, but in Puranic texts, he is seen as an insecure god who fears ascetics who perform tapasya and kings who perform yagna. European scholars concluded, in keeping with the trends they saw in Mesopotamian mythology, that Indra was an old god who was replaced by new gods like Shiva and Vishnu. But Hindus saw it differently. Indra is a god who celebrates material pleasure and is an essential component of the divine hierarchy, albeit at a lower level.
What distinguishes Jain, Buddhist and Hindu scriptures is the notion of multiple heavens occupied by different beings depending on the karmic balance sheet. Stay in no heaven is permanent. Each offers different degrees of pleasure and pain. In the highest heaven there is neither pain nor pleasure, only wisdom. This needs to be contrasted with the notion of heaven and hell popular in Christianity and Islam, which is based on ethical and moral conduct, and more importantly on faith in the doctrine. The faithful rise up to heaven and the faithless go to hell.
Sutikshna’s Request
Sita, Ram and Lakshman then proceeded to the hermitage of Sutikshna, who welcomed them and told them of the plight of many sages who had ventured southwards. He told them the story of the great migration.
Coaxed by Shakti, the serene Shiva had opened his eyes and then his mouth to explain the essence of the Vedas. To hear him, all the rishis on earth moved northwards, causing the earth to tilt. The Vindhya mountain range that separates the north and the south was so eager to hear Shiva that he kept growing in size until he blocked the passage of the sun.
To restore balance, Shiva asked his son Kartikeya, the great warlord, to move southwards. Many sages accompanied him, amongst them Vishrava and Agastya.
Vindhya bowed before Agastya, seeking his blessings, and Agastya asked him to stay bent so that the sun could travel unhindered. Agastya carried the waters of the Ganga in his pot and when he poured it out it turned into the mighty Kaveri river in the south.
Kartikeya’s spear split the Vindhyas to create valleys through which he could pass. To ensure that Kartikeya did not miss his mountainous home, Shakti asked the asura Hidimba to carry peaks from the Himalayas to the south. These became the Palni range of hills.
‘In the south the rishis found rakshasas and yakshas. Vishrava married a yaksha and a rakshasa and had sons by both wives. He taught both his sons the Vedas. The son of the yaksha, Kubera, built a great city of gold. The son of the rakshasa, Ravana, envious of Kubera, attacked the city and laid claim to it by force. Ravana is a great devotee of Shiva but he believes that might is right. And since he is the mightiest there, his way becomes the right way. Long have the rishis tried to make him see the essence of the Vedas, but he dismisses them with disdain. He considers those who perform yagna or practise tapasya as seekers of siddha, hence his rivals; he has turned all rakshasas against rishis. Remember Tadaka? Who sent her to Vishwamitra’s Siddha-ashrama? Ravana! Go south, Ram. Let the tragedy of this exile be beneficial to those who live in the forests. Enable rakshasas to follow dharma, liberate them from Ravana’s spell. Enable them to expand their minds,’ begged Sutikshna.
‘Are rakshasas not demons to be killed?’ said Lakshman.
‘Remember this, students of Vishwamitra, demons are just humans we refuse to understand or tolerate. To reject them, as they reject us, is adharma,’ said the sage.
Ram-kathas often refer to how Vishnu incarnates as Ram to save the world from the tyranny of Ravana. From a literal point of view, it is easy to see Ram’s journey along the path of the rishis into the south as an act of colonialism, the gradual spread of the fire-worshipping Vedic Aryans. From a symbolic point of view, the forest is the undomesticated mind, wild and frightening. The arrival of the sages and then Ram is the gradual awakening of human potential.
Some people see Ravana as the upholder of rakshasa culture who resists rishi culture. But what is culture that does not welcome and exchange? Why do two cultures clash? Should cultures stay independent of each other or should they influence and transform each other? By making Ravana’s father a rishi and his mother a rakshasa, Valmiki ponders this question.
The description of the rakshasas is ambiguous. They are sometimes violent, bearing weapons, with fangs, claws and large eyes, covered with blood and gore. At other times, they are good-looking and sensuous, even gentle. Some are described as shape-shifters.
Rakshasas are made frightening and demonic to dehumanize them and justify their killing. It is what civilized nations do in order to justify warfare. It stems from the human mind’s discomfort with our essential animal nature that seeks to dominate and fight off rivals to create a safe space. The rakshasa, if not excluded or tamed or included, will end up overwhelming us. Engagement is therefore essential.
Agastya and Lopamudra
As Sita, Ram and Lakshman travelled south, they saw a vast plateau garlanded with hills. A sage told them that once mountains had wings and they travelled in the sky like birds, bu
t their movements created so much noise that the rishis called upon the devas and asked that their wings be cut. So they fell to the ground and never moved again.
Since they had to avoid human settlements, the trio did not walk along riverbanks. Sita carried water in dried pumpkin gourd shells but sometimes, when she ran out of water before they found a pond, Ram or Lakshman would shoot an arrow into the earth and release water from some underground spring, much to Sita’s delight.
In the forest, Sita was not Janaka’s daughter or Dashratha’s daughter-in-law. Ram could not lay claims to her as a husband, as he was a hermit. She was just a woman, free to do as she pleased. Ram never demanded anything from her and so when she served him he wondered what motivated her. Was it just obligation? Was it simply custom? Was it pity? The more Ram observed Sita, the more he realized it could only be what poets called love.
And Sita noticed a lot about Ram. He always looked away when he spoke to her lest he be ensnared by her glances. And yet, in small gestures he revealed his love, brushing away thorns in her path, moving in the direction of flowers he knew Sita loved, making sure the rocks they climbed were never too big or too slippery for her. And though she waited for him to finish his meal before she ate, she knew he always ate less, making sure she always had more to eat.
Finally, Sita and Dashratha’s sons reached Agastya’s ashrama. There they saw tigers playing with goats and sheep; it was just like Mount Kailas described by the rishi Sharabhanga, where there is no hunger, hence neither predator nor prey. ‘The predator seeks food. The prey seeks protection. Shiva’s son, the plump and elephant-headed Ganesh, feeds the hungry predator. Shiva’s other son, the mighty Kartikeya, defends the frightened prey. Shiva helps all outgrow hunger and fear,’ explained Agastya.
Sita: An Illustrated Retelling of the Ramayana Page 12
