by Valmiki
The messengers left immediately. Because of their love for their king and their desire to protect his family, they rode quickly and reached Rājagṛha by nightfall.
Bharata had a most unpleasant dream on the night that Ayodhyā’s messengers arrived in Rājagṛha. Since the dream occurred in the early hours of the morning, the prince was greatly disturbed. His friends and well-wishers gathered around him when they saw how agitated he was. They began to talk of this and that in order to distract him. They sang and danced and told jokes and presented pieces of theatre. But though they tried hard to make him laugh, Bharata remained downcast. ‘Why are you so depressed when all your friends are with you?’ asked his best friend. Bharata replied by telling him about his dream.
‘In my dream I saw my father, dirty and with his hair dishevelled, falling from a mountain top into a pit of cow dung. I saw him jumping up and down in the dung, drinking oil from his cupped hands and laughing desperately. He ate some rice and then, his head hanging low, he dived into a trough of oil over and over again until his body was covered with it. In the same dream, I saw the ocean dry up and the moon crash to the earth like a huge fire dying down. Trees withered and I saw the mountains tremble and smoke as the earth fell into a chasm. Black and yellow women laughed at my father who sat on an iron throne in clothes of black. Then, smeared with red sandal paste and wearing a garland of red flowers, my father hurried off towards the south in a chariot pulled by donkeys. My dream was so terrible that I feel that either Rāma or Lakṣmaṇa or I will surely die! If you see a man in a chariot pulled by donkeys in a dream then you shall surely see the smoke from his funeral pyre before long!
‘This dream is the reason I am so depressed and you cannot amuse me. My throat is dry and my mind is uneasy. I see no cause for fear but I am frightened despite myself. I worry about the king whom I saw in a such an unimaginable situation in my dream.’
Even as Bharata was recounting his dream to his friends, the messengers from Ayodhyā entered the beautiful and well fortified city of Rājagṛha on their exhausted horses. They went directly to the king and were courteously received. They bowed and said to Bharata, ‘The ministers and priests send you their good wishes. You must return with us at once, for there is urgent work for you to attend to in Ayodhyā.’ Bharata received the gifts that had been sent for him and his uncles and then, because he loved his own people, he showered the messengers with all that they could possibly desire.
‘Is everything all right with my father King Daśaratha?’ asked Bharata. ‘Are Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa well? And what about Kausalyā, wise Rāma’s mother, who is devoted to dharma and sets an example for others? And the righteous Sumitrā, mother of Lakṣmaṇa and Śatrughna, is she well? And what of my mother Kaikeyī who is so self-willed, quick to anger and sure of her own opinions? Has she sent a message for me?’ The messengers assured him that all the people he had asked about were well.
Bharata turned to his grandfather. ‘I must go at once to my father, for these are the messengers’ instructions. I shall visit you again whenever you call for me.’ His grandfather kissed him on the forehead and said, ‘Go, my child, go with my blessings. Give my regards to your father and mothers and my greetings to the priests and the learned brahmins and to your mighty brothers Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa.’
The king ordered that Bharata be given elephants, money and many fine gifts, horses and gold. Bharata’s uncle instructed his most trusted men to accompany the prince. Bharata bade his family farewell and along with Śatrughna, mounted his chariot. Protected by his grandfather’s army and accompanied by men as brave as himself, Bharata left the palace like Indra himself.
After travelling for seven days, Bharata came within sight of Ayodhyā. ‘This city is ruled by mighty kings,’ said Bharata to his charioteer. ‘It is inhabited by learned brahmins and virtuous people. It is filled with pleasant parks and with stately shining buildings. But even from this distance, it appears to be plunged in sorrow. Earlier, one could hear the buzz of people and the gardens were full of men and women coming and going. It all looks different now! The gardens seem to weep, deserted as they are by young lovers. The whole city seems like a wilderness—there are no people on the streets, nor elephants or horses. These unusual and unpleasant sights disturb me!’
Bharata drove his tired horses into Ayodhyā through the Vaijayanti gateway where the guards greeted him with shouts of joy. He dismissed them courteously and then, turning to his charioteer, he said, ‘I see all the signs associated with the death of a king. People are walking around with their clothes soiled, looking careworn and depressed.’
As Bharata looked around, he saw that the city’s buildings which normally shone like Indra’s palaces were covered with dust and had their doors locked. He grew more and more agitated. With a sense of terrible foreboding, he entered his father’s palace.
Bharata did not find his father in his usual chambers so he went to his mother’s apartments. Kaikeyī was delighted to see her son who had been away for so long and she jumped up from her couch to greet him. Bharata noticed that the atmosphere was subdued but the first thing he did was touch his mother’s feet. Kaikeyī kissed him and hugged him and drew him close to her as she questioned him eagerly.
‘When did you leave my father’s house? Are you tired from this long chariot journey that you made with such speed? Is my family well? Were you happy during your stay with them? Tell me everything!’ she cried.
‘I left Rājagṛha seven days ago,’ said Bharata. ‘Your family is well. The king gave me so many gifts that the porters grew weary and so I left them and came on ahead. The message from Ayodhyā made me hurry along. Now, mother, you must tell me all I need to know!
‘Your golden couch is empty and all the retainers seem to be upset about something. The king was always in your chambers and though I have come here specifically to meet him, I do not see him anywhere. Tell me where he is, for I must go and touch his feet. Is he with his elder wife Kausalyā?’
Kaikeyī who was obsessed with royal power replied harshly to innocent Bharata who knew nothing of what had happened. ‘Your father has gone the way of all flesh!’ Overwhelmed with grief, Bharata fell to the floor when he heard these words. He wept aloud, his eyes clouded with confusion. ‘In the old days, this very couch was adorned by my father’s presence. Today its lustre is dulled by his absence!’
Kaikeyī raised the grieving Bharata. ‘Get up, prince! Why are you lying on the ground like this?’ she said. ‘Great kings like you are lauded by huge gatherings. How can you wail like this?!’ Rolling on the floor with grief, Bharata cried for a long time. ‘I came here joyfully, expecting that the king was either ready to perform a sacrifice or was going to crown Rāma his heir,’ wailed Bharata. ‘Everything has turned out so different! I cannot even see my father who always wished the best for me! Mother, what disease did my father have that he died before I could get here? How fortunate are Rāma and the others who were able to perform his funeral rites!
‘Tell the wise Rāma, who is my brother and like a father to me, that I have arrived. For the man who knows dharma an elder brother is like a father! Let me fall at Rāma’s feet. He is my only refuge now! Ah! my father was so noble and honourable! What were his last words to me?’
Kaikeyī told him exactly what had happened. ‘He cried, “Oh Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa, Sītā!” and passed into the world where the best of men go. And as your father was being enveloped by Time, like a mighty tusker caught in a noose, his last words were, “Those who shall see the return of Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā are fortunate indeed!”’
Bharata grew even more agitated when he heard this. His face pale, he asked, ‘But where has virtuous Rāma, Kausalyā’s joy, gone with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā?’
Thinking that it would please her son, Kaikeyī told him about the terrible calamity. ‘My son, prince Rāma has gone to the Daṇḍaka forest along with Sītā wearing the clothes of an ascetic and Lakṣmaṇa has followed him!’ When Bharata hear
d this, he began to question the propriety of his brother’s actions, given the high standards of his family.
‘Did Rāma appropriate a brahmin’s wealth? Did he mistreat an innocent person? Did he lust after another man’s wife or insult another prince? Why has he been exiled to the Daṇḍaka forest like a man who has killed a brahmin?’
Then his flighty mother, true to the nature of all women, began to tell him what she had done. ‘Rāma did not steal a brahmin’s wealth or oppress an innocent man or even raise his eyes to look at another man’s wife. My son, when I heard that Rāma was to be crowned, I begged your father to send him into exile and give the kingdom to you. Your father stuck to his principles and did as I asked. Rāma was sent away along with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā. Once Daśaratha was separated from his beloved son, he sank into a depression and died slowly. You know dharma. You should take over the kingdom without any delay. I did all this for your sake! Perform the king’s funeral with the help of those who know the rituals and then anoint yourself king!’
‘What use is the kingdom to a wretched creature like myself who has been deprived of his father and of his brother who was like a father to him,’ said Bharata consumed with grief. ‘By making Rāma into an ascetic and causing my father’s death you have piled unhappiness upon unhappiness, like rubbing salt into a wound! You entered this family like Death! And my poor father unknowingly embraced glowing embers! It will be a miracle if the grieving Kausalyā and Sumitrā survive, now that they are in your hands, mother!
‘Didn’t the noble Rāma, so well behaved and devoted to dharma, always treat you well, as he would his own mother? My elder mother Kausalyā, who is so virtuous, has always treated you like a sister! How can you not be sorry that you have exiled the son of such a virtuous woman into the forest in the clothes of an ascetic? How could you have exiled a man who is so self-controlled and so noble? You obviously have no idea how I feel towards Rāma. You have created a terrible disaster out of your greed for the kingdom!
‘What strength do I have to protect this kingdom unless I am with Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, those tigers among men? Even King Daśaratha depended on Rāma’s strength, the way Mount Meru depends on its forests. How can I carry this great burden? Can a calf carry the burden of a mighty ox? Even if I were able to do this because of my inherent qualities, I refuse to help you achieve your ends because you favour your own son! I shall go to the forest and bring my brother back!’
Thus did Bharata rage in his grief, like a mighty lion roaring from its mountain lair.
‘Kaikeyī, you are a wicked and cruel woman!’ he cried. ‘Leave the kingdom at once! You have renounced all righteousness, so you can stop weeping for the dead! What did Rāma or Daśaratha ever do to you that you caused the banishment of one and the death of the other? By destroying this family, you have sinned as much as a man who kills a brahmin! Go to hell Kaikeyī! The worlds of your husband are closed to you forever!
‘You have implicated me in this terrible thing by exiling the man whom the entire world loves! You have brought me ill fame in all the worlds! Cruel creature who coveted the kingdom! You are my enemy in the guise of a mother! You have murdered your husband and your behaviour is completely unacceptable! Never speak to me again! You cannot be the daughter of the wise and righteous Aśvapati! You are a rākṣasī born to destroy my father’s family!
‘I shall do what I can to honour my father and brother and act in such a way that I add to their glory. I shall bring wise Rāma back from the forest by going there myself!’ Bharata fell to the ground. Lying there with his eyes bloodshot, his clothes dishevelled and his ornaments awry, he appeared like Indra’s flagpole at the end of a celebration.
Then Vasiṣṭha, the most eloquent of all sages, came to Bharata who lay burning in his grief. ‘May good fortune attend you, prince!’ he said. ‘Control your grief for the time has come for you to perform the funeral rites for your father so that he can go on to the best of all worlds.’
Bharata knew dharma. He understood what he had to do and performed all the prescribed rites. Daśaratha’s pyre was lit on the banks of the Sarayū and the royal family entered ten days of mourning.
On the tenth day, Bharata was free of pollution and on the twelfth day he began the śrāddha ceremonies. He gave away money and jewels and herds of cows and goats to brahmins and chariots and houses to his retainers to ensure his father’s happiness in the worlds beyond. On the morning of the thirteenth day, Bharata wept openly as he collected his father’s bones from the cremation grounds with Śatrughna. The princes spoke to each other in quiet tired voices, their eyes red with weeping, as their father’s ministers urged them to continue with the prescribed rituals.
‘Rāma is the most powerful man on earth and he is the refuge of all sorrowing creatures,’ said Śatrughna to Bharata. ‘Why did he allow himself to be exiled by a woman? And Lakṣmaṇa is so strong and brave. Why didn’t he release Rāma from his dilemma by arresting the king? After duly considering right and wrong, Lakṣmaṇa could have arrested the king earlier, for he was obviously under the spell of a woman and could not think clearly!’
As Śatrughna was speaking, Mantharā, the hunchback, appeared in the eastern doorway, adorned with jewels and ornaments. She had anointed her body with sandal paste and dressed herself in expensive clothes. She looked like a monkey on a leash with her many girdles and necklaces. The doorkeepers grabbed hold of her and brought her to Śatrughna.
‘This is the cruel creature who caused Rāma’s exile and your father’s death!’ they cried. ‘Do with her as you will!’
‘This wretched woman has caused immeasurable grief to my father and brothers,’ said Śatrughna. ‘Let her now eat the fruit of her actions!’ He caught hold of the hunchback who was surrounded by her friends. Mantharā screamed loudly but when her friends saw Śatrughna’s rage, they scattered in all directions. ‘Look how angry he is,’ they cried. ‘He will surely kill us all! Let us go to the gentle Kausalyā. She is our only refuge!’
Śatrughna’s eyes blazed in anger as he dragged the screaming hunchback across the floor. Her scattered jewels added to the palace’s lustre, making it seem like the star-studded autumn sky. Śatrughna gripped Mantharā more and more tightly and yelled at Kaikeyī.
Terrified of the raging Śatrughna and hurt by his cruel words, Kaikeyī ran to her son for protection. ‘Control yourself!’ admonished Bharata when he saw how angry Śatrughna was. ‘Women should be protected from assault from all creatures! I would have killed vile Kaikeyī myself had I not known that righteous Rāma would condemn me for killing my mother! If Rāma hears that we have killed this miserable hunchback, he will never speak to us again!’
Śatrughna calmed himself and released Mantharā who fell at his feet, weeping and sighing. Kaikeyī comforted the terrified creature who looked around herself in fear, like a bird caught in a net.
Chapter Twelve
On the morning of the fourteenth day, Daśaratha’s ministers gathered and addressed Bharata. ‘Our King Daśaratha was the greatest of all teachers. He has gone to heaven after exiling his eldest son Rāma and the mighty Lakṣmaṇa. Now you must become our king, O prince! Fortunately, our kingdom is united and has not fallen prey to chaos and anarchy. The materials for the coronation have been gathered and your own people are waiting for you! Receive the kingdom of your ancestors Bharata! Crown yourself and protect us all, bull among men!’
Bharata bowed respectfully to the coronation materials, but he had made up his mind. He addressed the assembly. ‘In our family, only the eldest son becomes king. You should know better than to ask me to do this! Our elder brother Rāma shall rule and I shall live in the forest for fourteen years! Prepare a mighty army with all the four divisions and I shall bring my brother back from the forest!
‘Since all the materials for the coronation have been organized, I shall take them with me to the forest and present them to Rāma. And when he has been crowned there, I shall bring him back here with all the honour due t
o him. I shall not let this woman who claims to be my mother have her way. I shall live in the dense forest and Rāma shall be king!’
The assembly saw how concerned Bharata was for Rāma’s welfare and they showered blessings upon him. His selfless words brought tears to the eyes of the noble people gathered there and they said, ‘May the goddess of fortune protect you always for it is clear that you want the king’s eldest son to rule!’
When the night was over, the bards and minstrels who sang to wake the king sang for Bharata, praising him and wishing him well. Ceremonial drums beaten with golden sticks rang out, conch shells were blown and many different kinds of instruments played in harmony. The music filled the skies but it only depressed Bharata further. He had the music silenced as soon as he awoke. ‘I am not the king!’ he said to Śatrughna. ‘Kaikeyī’s actions have had terrible consequences. Daśaratha is dead and there is only sadness for me! The sovereignty of the mighty king which was rooted in dharma now wanders like a rudderless ship!’
Meanwhile, Vasiṣṭha entered the assembly hall of the Ikṣvāku kings. Surrounded by his attendants, he inspected the area which was beautifully decorated with gold and jewels. He sat down on a golden couch that was covered by a priceless fabric and called for his messengers. ‘Go quickly and summon the brahmins, the warriors, the generals, ministers and merchants. We have urgent business to conduct!’
There was a huge tumult as the people gathered on their horses, chariots and elephants. When Bharata arrived, they greeted him the way they used to greet Daśaratha, as the immortals in heaven greeted Indra. The assembly shone for Daśaratha’s son like a pool filled with bright fish and precious jewels, the way it had shone for Daśaratha himself.
