Sita: An Illustrated Retelling of the Ramayana

by Devdutt Pattanaik

  Sugriva and Ram kill Vali by trickery. In nature, trickery is a valid tool of survival. In culture, trickery is often frowned upon but strength is respected, perhaps because trickery is too intangible for comfort.

  Ram is called maryada purushottam, the supreme upholder of rules. Whose rules does he uphold? Ayodhya’s or Kishkindha’s? Must he impose his rules on others?

  The scriptures wonder who decides what is fair: must the dominant Vali decide, must the deprived Sugriva decide or must the outsider Ram decide? Can the villain who treats everyone unfairly demand he be treated fairly by the victim? Does a hero impose fairness upon himself to feel good about himself and to create a fair society, and in doing so does he make himself vulnerable to villains who do not understand or respect or care for fairness? These subtle questions are provoked by the Vali story.

  The spot where Vali is killed, like other spots associated with various events in the Ramayana, has been located in different parts of India from Karnataka to Kerala to Assam.

  In the Tamil and Telugu Ramayana s, Tara is described as emerging from the ocean of milk and is given to both Sugriva and Vali who participated in the churning of the ocean.

  A New King in Kishkindha

  Hanuman then told Sita about the coronation of Sugriva.

  In Swarga, Indras come and go, but Sachi stays the queen of paradise. She is married to the throne, not the person who sits on it. This is the code of the devas. This was also the code of the vanaras. Tara would be queen to whosoever was the leader of the vanaras. Once she was Vali’s queen, now she was Sugriva’s.

  Ruma, Sugriva’s first wife and now junior queen, said, ‘Vali took me as wife to punish Sugriva. Sugriva takes Tara as wife to declare his right over the throne. Vali was driven by rage and Sugriva is driven by rules. Either way, it is I who suffers.’ But no one heard her voice.

  A dominant monkey kills all the children of the previous king as they are potential rivals. So Tara braced herself to watch Sugriva kill her son Angada without mercy.

  ‘This must stop,’ said Ram. ‘For our friendship to thrive you must give up the way of animals and accept the way of humans. Tara must not be a trophy and Angada must not be seen as a rival. You must open your heart to see her as your wife and him as your son and heir. And you must find a way to make sure that Ruma does not feel she is less favoured, for I have personally seen the cost of such preferences. You must be king because you can care for all, not because you are stronger and smarter than the rest.’

  Sugriva agreed to follow the path of the rishis when he was crowned king of Kishkindha. He swore he would change the ways of the vanaras. They would outgrow their animal instincts and be more human. They would submit to dharma not adharma.

  Great celebrations were held to mark the occasion. The best of fruits and berries and nuts and tubers and flowers and pots of honey and bundles of sugar cane from every corner of Kishkindha were gathered so that everyone could feast and make the day memorable. Ram and Lakshman withdrew silently and watched the monkeys dance and sing and celebrate from a hill afar. ‘Thus they would have danced and sung the day you would have been crowned king,’ said Lakshman wistfully.

  ‘Let us not allow our minds to wander to the past or to what could have happened. Let us focus on the future and what should happen,’ said Ram.

  Just as the celebrations came to an end, the rainy season arrived. A bit early, some might say; perhaps Indra was angry as his son Vali had been killed by Vishnu’s avatar on earth. Clouds covered the sun and the sky. Wet mists covered the mountains. Thunder rumbled and roared. Lightning split the sky and the waters poured with a fury never seen before. The earth was covered with water. Rivers swelled and broke their banks. Mud slid from mountainsides, carrying rocks and trees and animals with it.

  ‘The search for Sita may have to wait till the rains end,’ said Sugriva. Ram nodded grimly in agreement.

  For four months it rained. The vanaras hid in caves, eating what little they had hoarded or could find. Most of the time, they embraced their mates and made love, for there is little else to do at times like these. And the smell of wet earth and the sound of pouring rain is intoxicating. Kishkindha was filled with the sound of the monkeys’ love sport.

  ‘I stood outside the caves, watching Ram atop a hill, facing south, patiently yearning for you,’ Hanuman told Sita.

  ‘All these days in the garden of Ashoka trees I have sat facing north, in full faith,’ said Sita to Hanuman.

  Angada who is Vali’s son is declared Sugriva’s heir and this is significant. The old king may be dead but an attempt is made to make peace with the past, not wipe it out. Revolutions often seek to wipe out all traces of the past – like the book burnings by Chinese emperors, or the denial of the pagan past by the Church in the Middle Ages, or of the mythical past by the scientific revolution. But this only festers rage and resentment that explodes into yet another revolution in the future.

  In the Ramayana, Vishnu as Ram supports Surya’s son (Sugriva) against Indra’s son (Vali). In the Mahabharata, Vishnu as Krishna supports Indra’s son (Arjuna) against Surya’s son (Karna). Thus balance is restored over two lifetimes.

  In ancient times, in some communities, a brave man acquired property by marrying a woman. Property was linked to the woman. She did not go to the husband’s house; he came to hers. She was initially linked to the immovable asset, land, but gradually she came to be associated with movable assets like gold, popularly called stri-dhan or women’s wealth. This is probably why women like Kaikeyi and Kaushalya in the Ramayana are given names linking them to the land they belong to. In Lanka, we find Lankini, identified with Lakshmi, who serves Kubera and then serves Ravana and finally Vibhishana.

  The idea of a woman serving more than one man disturbed the conservative section of India and so emerged the concept of Panchakanya, or five virgins, to indicate women who regained their virginity after intimacy with a man. These included three from the Ramayana: Ahilya, Tara and Mandodari. Only two are from the Mahabharata: Kunti and Draupadi. Sita is sometimes named instead of Kunti but this is unacceptable to most Hindus as Sita is seen as being only Ram’s in mind and body.

  Lakshman’s Rage

  Hanuman then told Sita about a delicate moment that could have led to war between Sugriva’s vanaras and the sons of Dashratha.

  Slowly the rains stopped. The land dried up. Green trees with yellow flowers covered the earth. The sky had no clouds and the moon shone brightly.

  Ram waited for Sugriva to summon his monkeys and begin the search for Sita. But there was no sign of Sugriva. He was still busy with the song and dance and food and pleasure of his queens.

  Ram waited and waited, and waited. Patience gradually wore away and was replaced by irritation, then rage. ‘What is wrong? Why does he not keep his promise?’

  ‘Because he is a liar and a cheat,’ roared Lakshman. ‘Let me teach that ungrateful monkey a lesson.’ He picked up his bow and stormed towards the pleasure garden of Sugriva.

  Watching him approach thus, full of rage, Hanuman became nervous. He rushed to Sugriva’s side and warned him against upsetting the brothers. ‘Ram killed Vali with a single arrow. He will hunt you down with less.’ Sugriva snapped out of his happy drunken stupor, realizing his mistake. But who would calm Lakshman down? All the monkeys were afraid.

  ‘I will,’ said Tara. ‘He will not harm a woman.’

  ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said her son Angada. ‘Remember how Ram dealt with Tadaka and Lakshman with Surpanakha?’

  Fearlessly, Tara went to Lakshman, her palms joined, her face gentle and friendly. She found him protesting, bow in hand. ‘Where is the cheat who does not keep his word? Where is the good-for-nothing who forgets his promise when he gets what he wants? Where is the coward who calls himself king of Kishkindha?’ he kept shouting.

  Tara had approached him without bothering to arrange her clothes. Her hair was dishevelled. Her body was exposed, covered with marks of lovemaking. Her walk was the unsteady
gait of a person reeling from the effects of great pleasure. ‘Calm down, prince. You are indeed right and he is indeed wrong. But is it necessary to shatter the peace of this pleasure garden?’ she murmured.

  Embarrassed, Lakshman looked away. He felt like an intruder. His righteous indignation waned.

  Tara then said in a voice that was like gentle music, ‘Do not utter such harsh words, son. For years, Sugriva lived in the jungles, deprived of food and all the pleasures of life. Now finally he has obtained these and it is but natural that he would overindulge and in doing so lose sense of time. In the arms of an apsara a hundred years seem like a single night to a tapasvi, so you can appreciate what it does to a mere vanara. Empathize and forgive.’ As she spoke, the flames of anger slowly died down. Lakshman understood.

  Lowering his bow, Lakshman said, ‘I can forgive but cannot empathize. I have never known the pleasure you speak of. I am impatient to experience it, but for that another year has to pass. Next autumn, I shall be with my Urmila, but only if I am able to rescue Sita for my brother Ram. And that I cannot do unless I get the help of Sugriva and his monkeys. So please tell him to summon his monkeys without delay.’

  Sita remembered Lakshman fondly: earnest, loyal, quick to anger and easy to please. She could picture his nostrils flaring as he gave the orders. So simple and so different from his stoic brother.

  The Kishkindha-kanda ends with the coronation of Sugriva and the Sundara-kanda begins with the search for Sita. These are the fourth and fifth chapters of the Ramayana.

  The incessant rains seem like the revenge of Indra, the rain-god, who is angry with Ram who killed his son Vali.

  In Kamban’s Ramayana, Tara approaches Lakshman without any jewellery or cosmetics. Draped in a single cloth, she looks like a widow and reminds Lakshman of his mother the last time he met her at Chitrakut. This calms him down.

  Tara comes across as a negotiator and peacemaker. She shows a capability that Sugriva lacks. Her beauty and intelligence put her in a class of her own, giving rise to folklore that she was churned out of the ocean of milk by the gods. She was no ordinary vanara.

  The Ramayana is sensitive to the human condition: how time moves differently depending on our emotional state. When you are indulging in pleasure, time moves fast. In sorrow, time moves slowly. What is but a blink of the eye for Sugriva is an excruciatingly long wait for Ram.

  Search Parties

  Hanuman then told Sita how Sugriva emerged sheepishly from the pleasure garden, ready to throw himself at Ram’s feet. But Ram was not interested in dwelling on the past. Nor was he interested in seeking satisfaction in Sugriva’s supplication. He was interested only in finding out where Sita was.

  Soon Sugriva’s hundreds of thousands of monkeys gathered in Kishkindha, much to Ram’s delight. They would scour the earth and find Sita, assured Sugriva. It was clear that Lanka was in the south. But where in the south? South-east or southwest? Over the hills, in the valleys, or deep in the forest? Groups of monkeys were appointed to travel in different directions.

  Ram suggested that Hanuman be sent in the group led by Angada. ‘Surely Hanuman should be the leader of a group?’ said Sugriva.

  ‘This group is most likely to find Lanka. Angada is young and too inexperienced to be a leader. He needs the experience. This is a great opportunity for him. Hanuman has the wisdom to let him lead, while keeping an eye on him,’ said Ram. So Angada prepared to leave with a band of monkeys, with Hanuman by his side.

  ‘Before leaving, I went to Ram and asked him how you would know that I was your messenger. I asked him to give me something that would help me gain your trust. That is when he gave me his signet ring, the one jewel he was not allowed to remove from his body by his father when he set out for exile.’

  Sita looked at Ram’s ring, impressed by Hanuman’s foresight.

  It is indeed curious that Hanuman is not made a leader of monkeys in the Valmiki Ramayana despite his great strength. It is the audiences who have transformed Hanuman from super-monkey to god. He is strong and smart, and also wise enough to withdraw and let others enjoy the limelight.

  In the Valmiki Ramayana, Sugriva gives an elaborate description of every corner of the world that his scouts have to scour. Sugriva explains to Ram that he had travelled to all corners of the world (except Lanka) trying to escape Vali, till he finally found refuge in Rishyamukha.

  Since Ram is a hermit who gave up royal robes and ornaments, how does he wear a ring of gold? Questions such as these are part of the Shankhavali, or the garland of doubts, popular Hindi books written in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries to address doubts emerging from reading Tulsidas’s Avadhi Ram-charit-manas. One answer states that the ring was actually Sita’s. She had given it to Ram to repay Guha, the boatman, for his kindness. Guha had not accepted the ring and it had stayed in Ram’s possession.

  Scouring the South

  Hanuman then told Sita of his adventures until he reached the shores of the sea.

  The troops travelled south first through familiar forests and then through unfamiliar ones. They found new rivers and new mountains, new animals and new birds. The only thing that did not change was the sky with its stars and its constellations and its comets.

  The monkeys told everyone they encountered the tale of Sita’s Ram. Many joined the quest to find the wife of the unfathomable man who quite serenely gave up his kingdom to his brother, who did not see his wife’s abductor as a villain and who had inspired monkeys to outgrow their natural animal instincts. He had to be special. Until then, the denizens of the forest had only encountered creatures who saw everything in the world either as threats to their life or as opportunities for food. Only Ram seemed to see the world as full of potential, with the ability to look beyond oneself at the fear and hunger of others.

  Amongst those who joined the search party was an old bear called Jambuvan, who was convinced this prince of Ayodhya was Vishnu on earth.

  Somewhere in the south, Angada’s group of monkeys saw cows going to a termite hill and voluntarily shedding their milk on it. Within, the monkeys saw a Shiva-linga. The serpents around the termite hill told them Ravana had placed it there.

  In his many trips north to Mount Kailas, Ravana had asked Shiva to give him something that would represent him symbolically. ‘I will enshrine it in Lanka and worship it with unboiled milk and fresh leaves of the bilva and flowers of the dhatura,’ he had said. Ravana knew that this representation of Shiva placed in Lanka would render his city eternally invincible.

  So Shiva gave Ravana a Shiva-linga, a rock held firmly in a leaf-shaped trough. ‘The rock would roll aimlessly had the trough not held it. I am the rock and Shakti is the trough. Always worship us together. Do not place this on the ground, for it will get rooted to the earth wherever you place it,’ Shiva said.

  As Ravana went southwards with the Shiva-linga in his hand, Indra was disturbed, for if Ravana’s city became invincible, he would become a greater threat to the world. He begged Ganesha to help him.

  Ganesha used his power over water to induce in Ravana the urge to urinate. Ravana controlled this urge using siddha but it became so unbearable that no amount of tapa was enough to quell it. So he looked around and found a cowherd standing nearby. Ravana begged the cowherd to hold the Shiva-linga, pleading with him not to place it on the ground, while he urinated.

  But there was so much urine to pass that hours went by. Ravana could not stop and watched in utter helplessness, from behind the bushes, as the cowherd grew tired and, despite the screams and pleas of Ravana, placed the Shiva-linga on the ground. Only then did Ravana’s bladder empty. A furious Ravana tried to forcefully uproot the Shiva-linga but all he managed to do was twist the trough with great force until it looked like a cow’s ear. Thus the Shiva-linga from Kailas did not reach Lanka. It rooted itself midway.

  Jambuvan, Angada and Hanuman worshipped the Shiva-linga with river water, dhatura flowers and bilva leaves and made their way further south.

  The land su
ddenly turned dry and there was not a drop of water to drink. The sun above burned their skin and the hot earth seared their soles. Then Hanuman saw birds leaving a cave. Their wings were wet. ‘There is water in that cave. I am sure of it,’ he said.

  Sure enough, they found water in the cave. It was an underground river. They followed it to an opening surrounded by hills. Hidden here was an oasis full of trees bearing flowers and fruit, a land richer than Kishkindha. ‘This is my garden,’ said Swayamprabha, a female hermit, dressed in clothes of bark and animal hide. ‘It was built by Maya, the architect of the asuras.’

  The monkeys ate to their hearts’ content and bathed in the water. Then they slept. On waking up, they ate some more and swam some more. This was monkey heaven. ‘It is time to go, Angada. Give the orders,’ said Hanuman. Angada hesitated. The temptation to stay back was too great.

  ‘Please do not go. Stay here. Give me company. It is lonely here,’ said Swayamprabha, but Hanuman insisted that they had a mission.

  ‘The only mission for animals is to eat and mate, keep rivals away and keep away from predators. How can you have a mission?’

  When Hanuman told them what the mission was, Swayamprabha said that no one had seen Lanka. ‘You will surely fail. Why ruin your life for someone else? Stay here. Enjoy.’

  ‘There is great joy in satisfying oneself,’ said Hanuman. ‘But there is greater joy when we satisfy ourselves by satisfying others. Still greater joy when we do not need satisfaction. And even more joy, when despite not needing satisfaction, we provide satisfaction to others.’

  Hearing these words, Swayamprabha realized why despite years of being a hermit and living in a garden that provided all satisfaction she felt inadequate and incomplete. She had focused only on her satisfaction, not that of others. She decided to help the monkeys even though she was not obliged to. She simply wanted to experience what it felt like to bring joy unconditionally. By the powers of her siddha she transported Hanuman and all the other monkeys to the southern shore of the land. Beyond was the sea. Somewhere in the sea was Lanka.