Hanuman said, ‘The stupid monkey is checking to see if Sita and Ram are in them. If they are not, these pearls are useless.’ When people started to laugh saying that even the blind knew that Ram and Sita were seated on the throne and were not inside pearls, Hanuman tore open his chest and said, ‘I am not lying. Sita and Ram are in my heart. Are they not in your heart yet?’ Everyone was dumbstruck on seeing this incredible sight. They did not know how to react. They wondered what was in their heart. They dared not tear it open.
In the fullness of Hanuman’s heart, Vibhishana remembered the emptiness of Ravana’s.
Ravana wanted Shiva to be with him all the time, because the presence of Shiva energized him, made him happy. So with his twenty hands he uprooted Mount Kailas, intent on taking Shiva with him to Lanka. This upset Shiva’s wife and children. They begged Ravana to stop. When Ravana refused to heed their cries, Shiva pressed his big toe against the mountain slope, creating so much pressure that Ravana’s knee buckled and he fell flat on the ground, the mountain crushing his back. In apology, Ravana composed a wonderful song in praise of Shiva called the Rudra-stotra. Pleased, Shiva pulled him out from underneath Mount Kailas and Ravana returned home to Lanka shamefaced. ‘Shiva is much stronger than me,’ he said on returning home. He had failed to hear what Shiva was trying to tell him: God is not an external trophy to be possessed; God is internal human potential to be realized. Ravana refused to see the world as Shiva could, but Hanuman had learned to appreciate the world as Ram did.
Ravana is born to a learned priest and functions as a king, but fails to gain wisdom despite great knowledge and great power and great wealth. Hanuman is born a monkey and studies from the sun, has no social status or wealth, but by serving Ram finds purpose for his knowledge and power, and thus becomes the embodiment of wisdom. The contrast of the two characters is not accidental but clearly designed to provoke thought.
In a Kannada retelling, Hanuman reveals the name of Ram written across his bones. But the idea of the image of Sita and Ram etched on Hanuman’s heart captured the imagination of the people.
The idea of Ram as the embodiment of the purusha and Sita as prakriti is found in the seventeenth-century Ramtapaniya Upanishad.
Jambuvan had a great desire to wrestle with Ram. So Ram promised him that in his next life he would visit him as Krishna and wrestle with him following a disagreement. In the Bhagavat Purana, Krishna marries Jambuvan’s daughter, Jambavati.
In one Odia folktale, Sugriva saw Sita’s feet and wondered how beautiful the rest of her would be. Ram told him that in his next life he would marry a woman called Radha, who would be Sita reborn, but the relationship would never be consummated for she would be in love with Krishna.
Ram’s Name
Hanuman took care of all the guests who visited Ayodhya. These included rajas, rishis, rakshasas, yakshas, devas, asuras, gandharvas, bhalukas, vanaras and garudas. Amongst them was Narada, the sage who loves to create trouble.
He told Hanuman, ‘The vermilion dot on Sita’s forehead is a mark of her unconditional love for Ram. How do you express your selfless love for Ram?’ In response Hanuman covered his entire body with vermilion powder, as he felt that for a monkey a simple dot, or even multiple dots, would not be enough.
Narada then told Hanuman, ‘It is good manners to touch the feet of all rishis. But there is no need to fall at the feet of Vishwamitra; he is not a real seer – he is just a king who pretends to be a sage.’
Hanuman did as told and touched the feet of all the rishis, except Vishwamitra. This upset Vishwamitra so much that he demanded that Ram teach Hanuman a lesson: ‘Raise your bow and pin this arrogant monkey’s tail to the ground.’
Hanuman saw the amusement on Narada’s face, as the situation got tense: Ram would have to listen to his teacher however unreasonable his demands were. Hanuman wondered how he could protect himself from Ram. He then remembered Taranisen, Vibhishana’s son, and got an idea.
He sat on the ground and began chanting Ram’s name. Ram shot his arrows and they were unable to penetrate the shield created by the chanting of his name.
Vishwamitra smiled in realization: greater than a person is the idea that person embodies; greater than Ram is the idea that Ram embodies; greater than Vishwamitra’s name is the idea that Vishwamitra embodies. ‘Lower your bow, Ram,’ said the old teacher who had just learned a new lesson, ‘you cannot defeat Hanuman as long as he chants Ram’s name.’
Hanuman is often shown covered in red colour, which is associated with the Goddess. Some art historians hold that old tribal deities known as yakshas were bathed in blood, which was later substituted with red dye. Nowadays there is a preference to visualize Hanuman in saffron, the colour associated with celibacy.
The battle between the deity and the devotee is a common theme in late devotional literature. The devotee protects himself by chanting the deity’s name. The idea these stories try to convey is that the thought (the name of the deity) is more important than the thing (the image of the deity). Thus Ram nam is greater than Ram rup. It is the supreme mantra and is greater than visiting temples. It indicates the rise of nirgunabhakti (worship of the formless divine) over saguna-bhakti (worship of the forms of the divine).
Ramnamis are people for whom chanting the name of Ram is the greatest means to wisdom and realization. They usually belong to the lower castes of the Gangetic plains. When they read Tulsidas’s retelling of the Ramayana, they often replace all references that favour upper castes with the phrase ‘Ram Ram nam’.
For Kabir and Nanak of the Sant tradition, which thrived between the fifteenth and eighteenth centuries, Ram is not so much a person as the idea of divinity.
In many parts of India people greet each other with the phrase ‘Ram Ram’.
During funeral processions it is common amongst many Hindus to chant ‘Ram Ram’ or ‘Ram nam satya hai’ (the name of Ram is the truth). The Ram being referred to might be the divine hero of the Ramayana (saguna Ram) or the formless divinity (nirguna Ram).
United at Last
All through that day, the people of Ayodhya gazed upon their king and queen seated like a god and a goddess on the golden throne of the Ikshavakus.
That night, when everyone had left, and when the clouds parted to let the moonlight stream into the courtyard of the new queen, Ram finally saw Sita as only a husband can and Sita finally saw Ram as only a wife can.
The exile was finally over.
Ram-rasiks are devotees of Ram who through meditation seek to discover in their mind the heaven called Saket, with its bowers and the Kanak-bhavan palace, where, if worthy, they are allowed to witness the intimacy of Ram and Sita and thus find peace.
Many Ram-rasiks believe that the exile of Ram and the abduction of Sita did not take place. These are delusions created by Sita and Ram to amuse those who seek the thrill of adventure and are not content simply with their bliss.
One Ram-rasik visualized himself as the brother of Janaka, hence Sita’s uncle, and in keeping with common custom never ate food in Ayodhya, the land of his son-in-law. Another Ram-rasik saw himself as Sita’s younger brother and travelled to Ayodhya hoping she would feed him sweets. Still another bought toys for Sita whom he considered his daughter. Thus was intimacy with the divine couple expressed.
Unlike Krishna, Ram is rarely associated with eroticism. But this has not stopped poets like Upendra Bhanja who wrote the rather sensual Baidehi-bilasa (pleasures of Sita’s husband) in Odia in the seventeenth century.
For many, the Ramayana is Ramveda, great wisdom, and the relationship between Ram and Sita is of word (mantra) and meaning (artha): one cannot exist without the other.
Ravana’s Drawing
It was the royal cat that first sensed that Sita was with child. Then it was the royal dog. Then the parrots. Finally the rooster, who could not contain himself; he crowed out the news so loudly that the fishes could hear it in the river and they took the news downstream all the way to Mithila. Janaka smiled on hearin
g the news, and then went about his royal chores.
The vultures flew over the sea and the news reached Lanka. Vibhishana was pleased. But not Surpanakha. She travelled to the city of Ayodhya and made her way to the women’s quarters, identifying herself as a hairstylist from beyond the Vindhyas. This got everyone excited. All the women were curious. ‘Do you know of this place called Lanka?’
‘Of course. The city of gold in the middle of the sapphire blue sea where once lived the most handsome king, Ravana,’ she said.
‘How handsome was he?’ they asked.
‘None would know him better and more intimately than your own queen,’ she chuckled, making the women even more curious.
When the women asked Sita, she smiled and said, ‘Ravana was for me but a dancing shadow on the surface of the sea. I heard his voice. I felt his footsteps. But I never saw his face.’
The women, with a little encouragement from Surpanakha, begged Sita to draw the outline of Ravana’s shadow. Sita indulged them: she drew the image on the floor using rice flour.
The ten heads, the twenty arms: it was so perfect that Surpanakha wept in memory of her beloved brother. Her tears fixed the drawing to the floor. No matter how hard they tried, they could not wipe out Ravana’s image from the floor of Ram’s palace.
That is how the gossip began.
‘She has drawn the virile Ravana’s image under her bed.’
‘She did live under his roof through the rainy season.’
‘She lived with her husband in the forest for fourteen years, and only now, after a sojourn in Lanka, is she with child. Something to think about, no?’
A washerman was heard shouting at his wife who had taken refuge in the house of the boatman during a storm, ‘Get out. Ram may keep a wife who has spent many a night in another man’s house, but I will not.’
In the Kashmiri Ramayana, the two parts of the Ramayana are called Sri-Ram-avatar-charitam and Luv-kush-yuddha-charitam.
It is said that the Chola king commissioned two poets, Kamban and Ottakoothar, to write the Ramayana in the twelfth century. Impressed and overwhelmed by Kamban’s inspired retelling, Ottakoothar decided to destroy his retelling. But Kamban managed to save the last book. So in Tamil literature, the Purva-Ramayana is written by Kamban while the Uttara-Ramayana is written by Ottakoothar, both accomplished storytellers.
In the Valmiki Ramayana, there is a reference to street gossip only.
In the Sanskrit Kathasaritsagar (eleventh century) and the Bengali Krittivasa Ramayana (fifteenth century), there is a reference to the quarrel of the washerman and his wife.
The story of Sita being made to draw Ravana’s shadow is found in the Telugu, Kannada and Odia retellings.
A story of Sita being made to draw Ravana’s big toe only comes from Telugu folklore.
In various retellings, the one who goads Sita to draw the image of Ravana ranges from Surpanakha, Surpanakha’s daughter, Manthara, Kaikeyi, to one of the many palace women.
Ram’s Decision
The gossip was at first a trickle. Then it was a flood. Ram could not ignore it. The queen of the Raghu clan had to be above blemish. Sita was not.
‘Take her to the forest on some pretext and leave her there. Let her not know of my decision until she is far away in the forest, far away from me, too far to protest,’ said Ram to Lakshman.
‘That is so unfair. You must tell the people how she proved her chastity with fire,’ insisted Lakshman.
‘This has nothing to do with chastity or fidelity,’ said Ram. ‘This gossip provides people an opportunity to feel superior to the king. My exacting standards of conduct perhaps make them feel inadequate, inferior. So they strike back by mocking my choice of queen. She is not pure enough for me, they say.’
‘She is pure. She walked through fire.’
‘Pure in body and pure in mind, for sure. But pure in reputation? That stain can never be removed. Never forget the human yearning to dominate. The rich dominate with wealth. The educated dominate with knowledge. The beautiful with their beauty. Those who have nothing use the idea of purity to dominate. Thus the sweeper who cleans dirty streets is declared impure, the washerman who cleans soiled clothes is declared inferior, the woman who is menstruating is declared polluted. By that measuring scale, Sita is not pure enough for Ram, they say. If I resist, forever will I be the object of ridicule. I have no choice.’
‘You do have a choice. You are king. Do not indulge this vile desire of the people.’
‘A good king must listen to his people, and respect the rules of his family, howsoever distasteful they may be.’
‘Surely a king can change rules, impose his will on people?’
‘Yes, in Kishkindha. Yes, in Lanka. But not in Ayodhya, not as long as a scion of Raghu-kula sits on the throne. I will not be a tyrant. This is the verdict of the people. It must be respected.’
‘People are fools. People are cruel. Do not submit to them, Ram.’
‘How will my subjects see their own cruelty? How will they learn that they operate from aham, not atma? They are too busy being self-righteous. They must witness how powerful they are, how they can dehumanize Sita and get Ram to submit to their will.’
‘Why must Sita suffer for this?’
‘Because she is Janaka’s daughter. She alone will not see herself as a victim, as I did not when Kaikeyi forced me into exile. I can rely on her.’
‘Tell Hanuman to do it. I don’t want to do it.’
‘But I want you to. You, only you. Must the king make an order? Will the brother not obey?’
‘I hate being younger than you. I have to obey.’
‘In our next life, when I am Krishna, you will be my elder brother, Balaram, but you will still agree with me for you know what I do is necessary.’
Shoulders drooping, Lakshman asked, ‘The least you can do is tell her all this clearly and openly. Why reject her in so clandestine a manner?’
‘She never listens,’ snapped Ram. ‘When I told her to stay in the palace, she insisted on accompanying me to the forest. When you told her to stay inside the hut in the forest, she insisted on stepping out. When I was rude and tried to set her free from the obligations of marriage after I killed Ravana, she insisted on walking through fire, displaying her chastity, and returning to this city with me. If I tell her that she is the subject of gossip and so cannot be associated with me in any way, she will ask complex questions that I will not be able to answer. It is best this way. She will understand. She has to understand.’
In the Valmiki Ramayana, a spy named Bhadra reports to Ram what his people are saying on the streets. Only when Ram rebukes him for saying only positive things does Bhadra reveal the vulgar gossip.
Lakshman is the voice of the common man who is outraged by Ram’s cruelty.
Following gossip, Ram refuses to see Sita, let alone talk to her. He simply turns away. This cold reaction from one who is supposed to be God comes across as cruel and extremely distressing, especially when storytellers justify it as the ‘right’ thing to do. Actions in Hindu mythology are never ‘right’, though they are often necessary or obligatory, and they always come at a price.
Ram is called purushottam, which means ideal man. So it is only natural to wonder how an ideal man can treat a woman so. But Ram is not just purushottam; he is maryada purushottam, who follows rules and respects boundaries, as one ideally should. Rules and boundaries are human constructions, inherently cruel, as they create artificial hierarchies and notions of appropriate conduct. Krishna is also purushottam, leela purushottam, who plays the game of life, as one ideally should, appreciating its necessity but not taking it too seriously.
In Telugu folk songs, the sisters of Sita stand by her and demand that they too be thrown out of the palace as they too think of Ravana.
Return to the Forest
‘I crave for tiger’s milk,’ Sita had said when she had her first pregnancy cravings. Lakshman was sent to fetch it.
Then she had said, ‘In
the middle of the sea, as we returned from Lanka, I saw an island full of sandalwood trees. Hanging from each one was a honeycomb. I dream of sipping that special honey, flavoured with the scent of sandal and sea breeze.’ Hanuman was sent to fetch it.
‘My, my, the girl who went to the forest has returned a queen indeed,’ the women of the palace had remarked in private.
Sita had other cravings too: for the tamarind she had seen grow in the gardens of Anasuya; for the bananas that grew around the house of Agastya; for the berries offered by Shabari that Ram had described to her in detail.
She was therefore pleasantly surprised when she was told that the royal chariot was ready to take her to the forest where the berries of Shabari could be found; she could pluck them herself.
The previous night Sita had dreamt of the forest. She missed the freedom of the wild. She missed the tigers and the snakes. She missed the trees and the grass, the taste of roots and shoots, the dips in mountain streams. Only this time, she wanted to enjoy it all holding Ram’s hand, her head on his chest, as he rested on the rocks warmed by the rays of the rising sun, feeling him caress her hair.
Sita packed lightly, her clothes, his clothes, just enough for the day. She knew he would want to return quickly the following day: there were duties to perform, rituals to preside over, cows to be distributed, petitions to be heard.
The chariot was ready early, before anyone in the palace had woken up. She did not expect to find Lakshman as the charioteer, no attendant in sight, no sign of Ram. Lakshman’s face did not display the excitement of an excursion. In fact, he busied himself by checking the horses’ hooves and the chariot wheels, repeatedly.
Sita: An Illustrated Retelling of the Ramayana Page 29
