The Ramayana

by Valmiki

  ‘Go west from here, through the forest and over the hills, until you reach Pampā, the lake which teems with fish and is surrounded by flowering trees. Mount Ṛṣyamūka lies to the east of the lake,’ continued Kabandha. ‘There is a cave in that mountain which is impossible to enter, for its mouth is closed by a rock. On the eastern side of the cave is a large pool of cool water. The area abounds in roots and fruits and all kinds of animals gather there. That is where Sugrīva lives with his monkey companions. Sometimes, he can be found on the summit of the mountain.’

  These were the directions that splendid Kabandha gave Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa as he stood in the sky with his celestial garland. ‘Go forward,’ he said, ‘and may your mission be successful!’ Shining like the sun in his rightful form, Kabandha called out again from the sky, ‘Make an alliance with Sugrīva!’ and went on his way.

  KIṢKINDHA

  Chapter One

  Finally, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa arrived at lotus-covered Pampā, but Rāma was still depressed. Even though a tremor of delight ran through his body when he saw Pampā, he found that his thoughts turned to his beloved.

  ‘Ah, Lakṣmaṇa! How beautiful these trees are that surround Pampā,’ he said. ‘They are as tall as the mountains, their heights as dazzling as mountain peaks! I am already grieving over Bharata’s sadness and Sītā’s abduction and I find that this lovely place makes me even more unhappy. This gentle breeze! This season! The mind turns to thoughts of love, Lakṣmaṇa! The spring air is fragrant and all the trees burst forth in fruits and flowers. Look at how the woods bloom! The wind scatters flowers all over the ground and the trees shower blossoms like clouds shower rain! But this same breeze can be gentle and soothe us with its touch, cool and fragrant as sandalpaste!

  ‘The spring-time air, filled as it is with the songs of birds, sharpens my sorrow at the separation from Sītā. My body is consumed by passion and the koel mocks me with its happy song! And that bird that calls from near the waterfall! It fills me with sadness, for I am caught in the grip of passion! I am already so oppressed by my grief, yet doe-eyed Sītā torments me further with her absence, like this cruel breeze. The peahen who walks with her mate on the hillside overwhelms me with emotion.

  ‘Ah! my sweet-voiced beloved must be suffering as much as I am! The cool, gentle breezes burn me like a fire, they make me think of my beloved Sītā. These birds that brought me the news of Sītā’s abduction should lead me to her now. When I look at the petals on the blossoming lotus buds, I think of Sītā’s eyes. The breeze that has brushed against flowers as it comes through the trees reminds me of Sītā’s sweet breath!’

  Thus did Rāma lament as he and Lakṣmaṇa looked everywhere for Sītā, even inside caves and behind waterfalls, and his heart grew heavier with sorrow and despair.

  Sugrīva saw those two mighty heroes as they approached the vicinity of the Ṛṣyamūka mountain and his mind was filled with dread. He noticed that the brothers were well-armed and that made him very suspicious. Deeply disturbed, he looked around him but could not find a place to hide. Keeping an eye on the heroes, he found that he was restless, unable to sit in one place or decide what to do, and fear gripped his heart. Agitated and confused, Sugrīva discussed the matter with his companions and explained to them why he was so frightened.

  ‘Those two men have definitely been sent here by Vālī to spy on us! They are wearing these rough clothes and wandering in the forests just to hide their identity!’

  Sugrīva’s companions looked at Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa armed with their bows and arrows and fled to another peak. There, they gathered around their leader, the best of monkeys, and together, they leapt from peak to peak, shaking the earth with the force and speed of their movements. The powerful monkeys toppled flowering trees on the slopes as they raced all over the mountain, disturbing deer, wild cats and tigers. They reassembled on the very top of the mountain and stood before their leader with their palms joined in respect.

  Sugrīva was quaking with fear at the thought of what Vālī might have planned, but the eloquent Hanumān spoke to him reasonably. ‘Bull among monkeys, I cannot see cruel and fierce Vālī anywhere here! And yet, you have been running all over the place in fear of him! Your wicked brother, whom you fear so much, is nowhere to be seen, my friend, and I see no cause for alarm! Unfortunately, you have just displayed your essential monkey nature! Your mind is so flighty and distracted that you cannot even sit in one place and consider the situation calmly. You are wise and intelligent and should be able to read the motives of other people and act accordingly. A king who does not use his intelligence cannot rule his people properly.’

  Sugrīva listened to Hanumān’s sensible words and his response was equally well-reasoned. ‘Those god-like men with their mighty arms, their lotus-petal eyes and their bows and arrows and swords would make anyone apprehensive! I feel sure that Vālī has sent out these mighty men. Kings have many friends and we should not become complacent! One must be able to detect disguised enemies. Men such as these are always alert, they strike the complacent when the right moment presents itself.

  ‘Mighty Hanumān! Disguise yourself as an ordinary man and go and meet them! Find out all you can through their mode of dress and speech, their manners and their conduct. Examine their feelings and attitudes. If they seem friendly, gain their confidence by flattering them with praises and pleasant words! Position yourself such that I can see you and then ask them why they have come to this forest armed with bows and arrows.’

  Hanumān leapt off the Ṛṣyamūka mountain, fully understanding what Sugrīva wanted, and landed close to Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa. He threw off his own form and approached them in the guise of a mendicant. He addressed them in a sweet voice, praising them, as had been planned. ‘Your glowing skin makes you look like kings, or royal sages, or resolute ascetics! What brings you to this region? You disturb the deer and other forest animals as you wander along the wooded shores of Pampā. You enhance the brilliance of these sparkling waters with your shining skin! But who are you, dressed like this in the clothes of ascetics? You seem to have the valour of lions. You are armed with bows that rival Indra’s, you are as handsome and powerful as bulls, your arms are as mighty as elephants’ trunks, and you radiate energy!

  ‘Your splendour lights up the mountain. But you, who are comparable to the gods, should be ruling a kingdom. What are you doing here? You are clearly warriors, but your eyes are like lotus petals and you have the matted locks of ascetics! You bear a close resemblance to each other and seem to have come from the realm of the gods, like the sun and the moon come to earth by chance! Why is it that your massive arms are not adorned with jewelled ornaments as they should be? You seem capable of ruling the entire earth with the oceans and forests and mountains like Meru and Vindhya that adorn it! Why are you so silent despite my many questions?

  ‘There is a righteous monkey here named Sugrīva and he is the lord of the monkey clans. He was unfairly treated by his brother and now wanders the earth in sorrow. My name is Hanumān and I have been sent here by Sugrīva who is regarded as king by many of the important monkeys. I am the son of the Wind, and I am Sugrīva’s advisor. Honourable Sugrīva wishes to make friends with you! I can take any form that I choose and I can go anywhere I want! I have come here from the Ṛṣyamūka mountain in the form of a mendicant to carry out Sugrīva’s instructions!’ Knowing that Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were perceptive enough to understand his meaning, the eloquent Hanumān fell silent.

  ‘This is Sugrīva’s minister!’ said Rāma in delight to his brother who stood beside him. ‘I have been looking for that great king of the monkeys and he has found me instead!. This advisor has been friendly and eloquent. He is well-spoken and knows what to say and when to say it. Speak to him, Lakṣmaṇa!’

  Hanumān was thrilled when he heard what Rāma said and his thoughts flew immediately to Sugrīva. ‘Sugrīva is bound to regain his kingdom soon since Rāma has obviously come to him with a purpose!’ he thought.
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  ‘What has brought you and your younger brother to these dense forests that surround Pampā, that are filled with wild animals and beasts of prey?’ he asked Rāma. Lakṣmaṇa told Hanumān all about the great-souled Rāma, son of Daśaratha.

  ‘There was a great and celebrated king named Daśaratha who loved dharma. This is his renowned eldest son, Rāma. This hero is the best of all Daśaratha’s sons because of his many virtues. He is the refuge of all beings and he is devoted to carrying out his father’s wishes. Having been deprived of his kingdom, he came to live here with me and his wife Sītā, who accompanied him like rays follow the sun at the end of the day. I am Rāma’s younger brother and my name is Lakṣmaṇa. I am devoted to Rāma because of his many virtues, his graciousness and his immense learning. Rāma, who deserves glory and every kind of happiness and is intent on the welfare of all creatures, has been deprived of his royal majesty and has come to take refuge in the forest.

  ‘A form-changing rākṣasa abducted Rāma’s wife in our absence. We have no idea who that raksasa was. Kabandha, who had become a rākṣasa because of a curse, told us that Sugrīva, the king of the monkeys, was capable of helping us. “Sugrīva is mighty and strong and he will know how to find the rākṣasa who abducted your wife” is what he said to us as he went to heaven, radiant and shining.

  ‘I have now answered your questions and told you everything. Rāma and I have come here to seek Sugrīva’s help. In the past, Rāma distributed huge amounts of wealth, won great fame and was the lord of the earth. Now he comes to Sugrīva for refuge. He is overwhelmed with grief and utterly distraught. Sugrīva and his monkey hordes should be gracious to him!’ said Lakṣmaṇa sadly, with tears in his eyes.

  ‘It is Sugrīva’s good fortune that such wise and disciplined men as you, whom he should have sought out, have come to him!’ replied Hanumān. ‘He, too, has been deprived of his kingdom and Vālī has become his sworn enemy. Separated from his wife, Sugrīva wanders sadly through the forests, all because his brother treated him so unfairly. Sugrīva, son of the sun, and all of us monkeys will definitely help you in the search for Sītā! Let us go and meet Sugrīva!’ Hanumān said in his sweet and mellifluous voice.

  Lakṣmaṇa honoured Hanumān and then turned to Rāma. ‘This monkey, son of the Wind, is obviously very pleased with what he has heard. His happy face shines brightly and he seems to be telling the truth. Sugrīva also needs help to achieve his ends and so you can consider your mission as good as accomplished!’

  Hanumān took the two princes to meet the king of the monkeys. Shining with his own splendour, the famous Hanumān was delighted with his success and reached the top of the mountain on the strength of his powerful thighs. From Ṛṣyamūka, Hanumān went to Mount Malaya and introduced Sugrīva to Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa.

  ‘This is the wise and resolute Rāma, exceedingly brave and honourable. He has come here with his brother Lakṣmaṇa. Born into the family of the Ikṣvākus, Rāma is the son of Daśaratha. He is known for his righteousness and for his devotion to his father’s wishes. While Rāma was living a life of discipline and restraint in the forest, a rākṣasa abducted his wife. Now Rāma has come to you for help. Son of the king who performed all the important sacrifices correctly, who paid generous fees and distributed cows by the hundreds of thousands, a king who ruled the earth wisely and well, such a man had to come into the forest because of a woman! Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa are here to make an alliance of friendship. Treat them well, for they are the best among those who should be honoured!’

  Sugrīva was pleased with what Hanumān said and his fear of Rāma left him as a fever leaves the body. He took on the form of a charming and handsome young man and spoke warmly to Rāma. ‘Hanumān has rightly described all your virtues to me. Indeed, you are disciplined and firm in the practice of dharma, you are strong and brave and your love embraces all creatures. It is a great honour as well as a great advantage for me that you seek my friendship and that of the monkeys. Take my hand and let us enter into a firm alliance!’

  Rāma took Sugrīva’s outstretched hand and gripped it firmly. Pleased that he had made the alliance he wanted, Rāma embraced Sugrīva with affection. Hanumān, meanwhile, relinquished the mendicant form that he had taken on and, in his own form, gathered some wood and made a fire. He worshipped it with an offering of flowers and then, with a glad heart, he placed the blazing fire between Sugrīva and Rāma. The two of them walked around the fire to cement their new friendship, gazing at each other fondly, as if they would never tire of the sight of the other.

  ‘My advisor Hanumān has told me how you came to live in this uninhabited forest,’ said Sugrīva to Rāma, ‘and also that while you were living there with your brother Lakṣmaṇa, a rākṣasa abducted your wife Sītā, the daughter of Janaka. The rākṣasa waited for the right moment and did this in your absence. He killed the vulture Jaṭāyu as he carried your wailing wife away. But you shall not suffer this separation from your wife for long! I shall bring her back, just as the sacred scriptures were recovered! Whether she be in the highest heaven or the lowest hell, I shall bring your wife back to you! I promise you this and you can count on my word, Rāma!

  ‘I feel sure, from logical deductions, that it was Sītā I saw being carried off by a cruel rākṣasa. She was crying out “Oh Rāma! Oh Lakṣmaṇa!” piteously as she writhed in Rāvaṇa’s arms like a serpent. Then she saw me and four other monkeys sitting on the top of a mountain and she threw down her shawl as well as some jewelled ornaments. We caught them and have kept them safely. I shall bring them here so that you can identify them.’

  ‘What is the delay, my friend?’ urged Rāma. ‘Have them brought here as soon as possible!’ Eager to please Rāma, Sugrīva ran to his inaccessible cave and fetched the jewels. Rāma’s eyes blurred with tears, as the moon is covered by mist, when he saw the jewels and the shawl. Overcome by his love for Sītā, he burst into tears. Crying, ‘Ah! my beloved!’ he threw himself on the ground. He clutched the jewels to his chest and sighed heavily, like an angry serpent hissing in its hole. His tears flowed thick and heavy and he turned to Lakṣmaṇa who stood by his side.

  ‘Look, Lakṣmaṇa! These are the jewels and the cloth that Sītā threw from her body onto the ground as she was being carried off!’ he said pathetically. ‘She must have thrown them onto the grassy slopes, for the ornaments are not in the least damaged!’

  ‘I cannot recognize her ear and hair ornaments,’ said Lakṣmaṇa. ‘I only know her anklets because I would touch her feet every morning.’

  ‘Tell me, Sugrīva,’ said Rāma, ‘where was this wicked rākṣasa taking my beloved wife, dearer to me than my own life, when you saw them? Where does that rākṣasa live? He has caused me so much grief that because of him, I am determined to exterminate the entire race of rākṣasas! Who is this creature who has opened the door of death for himself by abducting Sītā and incurring my terrible wrath? Tell me, great monkey, who was this who abducted my beloved from the forest? I shall send him to meet the god of death this very day!’

  Sugrīva’s eyes filled with tears and in a voice thick with emotion, he replied, ‘I have no idea where that wicked creature lives. Nor do I know anything about his family or his strength and prowess. But do not grieve, I promise you that I shall make every effort to get Sītā back! I shall use all my capacities, that you will find worthy of praise, and kill Rāvaṇa Rāvaṇa and his rākṣasa hordes. I shall do all that it takes to please you for as long as you want! Do not succumb to this weakness. Resort to your natural fortitude and forbearance! Such behaviour is for lesser men. It does not become you!

  ‘I, too, have suffered the terrible grief of separation from my wife. But I do not weep and lament and I have not lost heart. Even though I am only an ordinary monkey, I do not go on and on grieving. You are great-souled and self-restrained, you should be even stronger! Dry your tears! Do not lose the fortitude that governs the conduct of resolute men!

  ‘I speak like this out of con
cern for the welfare of a friend, Rāma. I do not presume to teach you! Respect my friendship and renounce your sorrow!’

  Somewhat comforted, Rāma wiped the tears from his face with his upper garment. Regaining his natural composure because of Sugrīva’s words, Rāma embraced the monkey. ‘You have fulfilled the duty of a friend who loves and wishes the best for someone,’ he said. ‘You have done what is right and worthy. My natural equanimity has been restored thanks to your persuasive words. It is hard to find friends as good as you, especially at a time like this!

  ‘What do we need to do now in order to find Sītā and the vicious rākṣasa Rāvana? And you must also tell me, without any hesitation, what I have to do to help you. Our efforts will bear fruit like seeds sown just before the rains! You can count on my word, Sugrīva! I have never spoken an untruth nor shall I ever do so! I swear this by all that is true and I shall keep my promise!’

  Sugrīva and his advisors were delighted to hear Rāma’s words, reinforced by his solemn oath. The man and the monkey sat and chatted intimately about all that was important to them. And the king of the monkeys knew in his heart that his ends were as good as achieved.

  Chapter Two

  In a voice that trembled with happiness, Sugrīva began to tell Rāma his story. ‘I have been treated unfairly by my brother and because of that I have to wander around this Ṛṣyamūk mountain, bereft of my wife and stricken with fear and sorrow. I live in constant terror, distracted and disoriented by this fear of my brother Vālī who has taken all that I had and become my mortal enemy. You are the one who rids the world of fear. Take pity on me! I am terrorized by Vālī and I have no protection!’