The Ramayana

by Valmiki

  ‘Sugrīva came here once before and challenged you to a fight. You went out in a rage and defeated him and he ran away. The fact that he comes to challenge you again after being wounded in body and spirit makes me suspicious. The arrogance and pride with which he shouts now cannot have a trivial cause. I am sure Sugrīva has come here this time with allies and help. He must have an ally who gives him the confidence to shout like this!

  ‘Sugrīva is intelligent and cunning. He would not have come here without making sure of his ally’s strength. I should also tell you what I heard earlier from prince Angada, hero! I shall repeat it now for your benefit. Your brother’s ally is none other than Rāma, who is ruthless in battle and all-consuming like the doomsday fire! But he is also like the shady tree under which the virtuous can gather. He is the refuge of the oppressed and a worthy heir of fame. You should not seek enmity with him, for he is invincible and unrivalled in battle.

  ‘Listen to me, mighty one, I have to say this to you and you must not be angry. I speak for your benefit. Take my advice. Make Sugrīva your heir apparent without any further delay. You should not have enmity with your brother, great king! Put an end to these hostilities. Earn Sugrīva’s affection and make friends with Rāma! Your brother is younger than you and deserves your love and affection. Even if he is not with you now, he remains your brother wherever he is! If you believe that I have your best interests at heart and if you want to make me happy, then do as I ask!’

  When Tārā with her star-bright face had finished speaking, Vālī brushed aside her advice contemptuously. ‘Why should I listen quietly to my brother shouting like this, especially when he is an enemy!’ he said. ‘For brave men who are undefeated in battle and who never turn and flee from the battlefield, to have to listen to threats like this is worse than death! I cannot tolerate this from Sugrīva! He is eager to fight but soon his neck will be lopped off in battle!’

  ‘Don’t worry about Rāma injuring me. He knows and loves dharma and he is gracious. He would never do anything unethical! Why are you still following me, Tārā? Go back inside with your women. You have amply demonstrated your love and devotion to me! I must go forward and confront Sugrīva. Don’t worry, I will crush his pride but I will spare his life. Promise me that you will go back inside. Wish me well and I shall return, having defeated my brother in combat!’ Tārā embraced Vālī, weeping softly. She wished him well and invoked blessings upon him with the appropriate mantras. Then, full of sorrow, she went back into the inner apartments with her women.

  Vālī rushed out of the city, hissing like an angry serpent. Breathing heavily, he looked around for his enemy. Then he saw Sugrīva, shining yellow and golden, blazing like the fire, ready to do battle. Vālī, the mighty one, girded his loins and clenched his fists and advanced towards Sugrīva, eager to fight. Sugrīva raised his fists and came towards Vālī who was wearing his golden necklace. Vālī pounced upon Sugrīva and began to pummel him. Blood poured from Sugrīva’s body like cascades from a mountain but he was undaunted. Enraged, Sugrīva uprooted an enormous sāla tree with all his strength and assaulted Vālī with it, like a thunderbolt striking a mountain. Stunned by the blow, Vālī reeled, as a small boat carrying merchants and their goods is rocked upon the ocean.

  Those mighty monkeys, who had powerful bodies and the speed and strength of Garuḍa, fought each other like the sun and the moon in the sky. Sugrīva began to slow down, his pride crushed by Vālī, and he tried to point Vālī out to Rāma. Rāma picked an arrow that was like a poisonous snake and released it from his bow. It struck Vālī in the chest and he fell to the ground. Drenched with blood and sweat, Indra’s mighty son collapsed, unconscious, on the battlefield, like an aśoka tree felled by the wind or Indra’s toppled flagstaff.

  Chapter Four

  Vālī lay sprawled on the ground with his golden ornaments like Indra’s fallen banner when the ropes that hold it are severed. And when Vālī, the lord of the monkeys and the bears, lay like that on the ground, the earth’s lustre was dimmed like a moonless sky. But still, Vālī’s personal lustre and majesty did not leave his body, held there by the golden gem-studded necklace that had been given him by Indra. The necklace made him seem like a rain cloud tinged with the light of the setting sun.

  Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa came over and saw that great monkey lying there with his massive arms, his chest as broad as a lion’s and his yellow shining eyes. Vālī looked at Rāma and began to speak righteous words that were harsh and critical, but he spoke them gently.

  ‘What did you gain by shooting me in the back and killing me in this fashion? I was facing away from you and was absorbed in battle with another! You are renowned in the world. All creatures say that you are noble and honourable, that your conduct is impeccable, that you are radiant and compassionate, devoted to the welfare of all beings, resolute in your vows, circumspect, and that you always do the right thing. I knew you had all these great qualities and so, despite Tārā’s advice, I confronted Sugrīva in battle.

  ‘Because I could not see you anywhere, I assumed that you would not attack me when I was fighting Sugrīva. I did not know then that you are, in fact, wicked and unethical, though you pretend to be honourable, like a deep well that is hidden by grass. I could not see the wicked man behind the noble creature, the fire under the ashes. I have never harmed your kingdom or your city. Nor have I ever insulted you. Then why did you do me such grievous harm?

  ‘Why did you do this to me, a harmless monkey who lives in the forest and eats roots and fruits, who had no quarrel with you but was concentrating on fighting with someone else? You are a prince, handsome and distinguished. You carry all the outward signs of dharma. How could someone like you, born a noble kṣatriya, who has all his ethical doubts resolved by the wise, how could you do something so cruel, hidden under the trappings of dharma?

  ‘Truth, patience, courage, the ability to pursue conciliation, generosity and the meting out of punishment are the duties of a king, Rāma! We are but creatures of the forest. We live on roots and fruits, for that is our natural state. But you are human and you are a king. The usual reasons for conquest are land and wealth. What do I have in the forest apart from fruit that you could want so badly? Kings should not live by their whims and do as they please. But you are wilful, quick to anger, and seem to have no fixed views. You do not live by the code of kings and you seem eager to expend your arrows.

  ‘You have killed an innocent creature like me! How will you justify this disgraceful act to good men? My skin cannot be used by men of virtue, my hair and bones are forbidden to them and my flesh cannot be eaten by those who practise dharma. The brahmin and the kṣatriya can eat only five five-toed animals, the rhino, the porcupine, the alligator, the rabbit and the turtle. You have killed me, a five-toed animal, whose skin and bones no virtuous man will touch and whose flesh is forbidden.

  ‘Rāma, if the earth has you as a master, she is as vulnerable as a virtuous woman whose husband is a rake. How could you, so base, mean, deceitful and lying, be a son of Daśaratha’s? If you had fought me face to face you would have met the god of death today! You would never have challenged me in battle and yet today I lie dying because of your deceitful arrows, like a sleeping man who has been bitten by a serpent. You killed me to make Sugrīva happy. But if you had come to me first with the same alliance, I would have brought that wicked rākṣasa to you in an instant! If only you had asked me, I would have recovered Sītā from the depths of the ocean or from the bottom of the earth and brought her back to you. It is right that Sugrīva should inherit the kingdom after my death, but it is not right for you to have killed me in this way!’

  His face pale from the pain of his wound, Vālī, the son of Indra, fell silent, looking up at Rāma who shone like the sun. He had spoken harsh words to Rāma which seemed righteous, and were intended for his benefit. Rāma looked at the monkey who was like a dimming sun, a cloud emptied of its rain, a dying fire, and said things that really were filled with dharma and were int
ended to educate the monkey king.

  ‘Your criticisms of me are childish and immature for you have not truly understood the meaning of dharma, artha, Kāma or worldly living. You have never been exposed to the teachings or the wisdom of learned men and yet, you, with your monkey nature, presume to teach me!

  ‘This earth with its mountains and forests belongs to the Iṣkvākus. They have the right to praise or condemn all the birds, beasts and men who inhabit it! It is ruled by the righteous and honourable Bharata. He is learned in the principles of dharma, artha and Kāma and he is devoted to justice. We and other kings execute his orders which are rooted in dharma, here and all over the earth so that the eternal dharma may flourish. When the earth is ruled by the righteous and honourable Bharata it is not possible for anyone anywhere to violate dharma and not be punished for it.

  ‘You have transgressed the bounds of dharma. Your conduct is inappropriate because you are ruled entirely by pleasure. You are not fit to be a king! The elder brother and the teacher who imparts knowledge are all regarded as equal to a father by the man who pursues the path of righteousness. A younger brother and a virtuous student are regarded as equal to a son, according to the dictates of dharma.

  ‘Monkey, the dharma followed by truly good men is subtle and hard to understand. How can a fickle creature like you, who learns from other equally fickle monkeys, know anything? Blind men learn nothing from confronting each other! Let me explain things to you. Control yourself and listen to me!

  ‘Here is the first reason for my killing you. You have rejected the eternal dharma and slept with your brother’s wife. You lust for Rūmā and sleep with her even though Sugrīva is still alive. This is unacceptable because you should treat her as a daughter-in-law. I killed you for sleeping with your brother’s wife and because you were motivated by lust! There can be no other punishment for this violation of dharma and of the worldly code. The man who sleeps with his sister, his daughter or his brother’s wife is punished by death according to the traditional texts.

  ‘My friendship with Sugrīva is equal to my love for Lakṣmaṇa. Our pact is that I will restore to him his wife and his kingdom and in return for that, he will devote himself to my interests. I gave him my word on this in front of the other monkeys. How could I then not fulfil my promise? It is the duty of a righteous man to help his friend. All the reasons I have given you are rooted in dharma. You have to agree that you have been justly punished! Stop your laments! You were killed because dharma demanded it. We cannot act as we please!

  ‘Traps and ropes and snares of all kinds are used to capture animals. Animals are caught and killed when they are running away, or when they are agitated, even when they have no idea of the danger they are in. Men kill animals for their flesh even when their faces are turned away. There is nothing wrong with that! Royal sages, learned in dharma, go hunting. I killed you with an arrow, monkey. Whether you were in a position to fight back or not is irrelevant, for you are nothing but an animal!

  ‘Dharma is certainly hard to understand. Kings are the source of it, as they are the source of all good things. One should not harm kings, or attack them or criticize them or displease them, for they are gods on earth in the form of men. You are ignorant of these things and that is why you condemn me for following a code that has come down from the time of my forefathers!’

  Vālī began to regret his outburst. ‘What you have said is absolutely true,’ he said with his palms joined. ‘An inferior cannot refute what his superior says. I was careless and wrong when I spoke to you so harshly before. But do not hold it against me, Rāma! You know all there is to know about the goals of life and you are devoted to the well-being of your subjects. You have a clear understanding of cause and effect. I failed in my duties and I violated dharma!’

  Vālī’s eyes filled with tears and he continued, slowly and sincerely, looking at Rāma like an elephant caught in quicksand. ‘I have no sorrow for Tārā or any of my other relations, only for my virtuous son, my golden boy, Angada. I have loved him and cared for him since he was a child. He will be miserable without me. Treat Angada and Sugrīva as you would Bharata and Lakṣmaṇa. Correct them when they do wrong and support them when they are right. Make sure that Sugrīva is not harsh with virtuous Tārā. She has done nothing wrong, unless my mistakes are judged to be hers as well.’

  Seeing that Vālī was now thinking righteously, Rāma reassured him. ‘Do not worry about these things or about the future of your soul, king of the monkeys! I acted on the basis of dharma. The wrongdoer who suffers punishment and the one who metes out the punishment have both done their duty and the score has been settled!’

  ‘I was critical of you because the pain from this arrow had clouded my mind!’ said Vālī. ‘You are Indra’s equal! Be gracious to me!’

  Meanwhile, Tārā had heard that her husband had been fatally wounded by Rāma in battle. She ran out of her mountain cave with her son, greatly agitated. She saw Angada’s mighty retainers fleeing in terror, as fast as if they had been seated on Rāma’s arrows, for they had seen Rāma armed with his bow. Tārā stopped and asked the terrified monkeys, ‘How can you run like this in fear when you are supposed to be in the vanguard of the forces? How can you run when Vālī is lying there bloodied, killed by Rāma at the insistence of Sugrīva who only wants the kingdom?’

  Those monkeys who could change their forms at will had understood the situation well. ‘Death has arrived in the form of Rāma and claimed Vālī!’ they said to beautiful Tārā. ‘Your son is still alive. Turn back and watch over him, lovely lady! When Vālī, who was Indra’s equal, was killed, all the monkeys fled in different directions. Protect the city gates and place your son on the throne immediately. The monkeys will rally round Vālī’s son if he takes his place!’

  Tārā, the one with the lovely smile, cut them short. ‘What do I care for the kingdom or my son or myself,’ she retorted, ‘when my husband, that auspicious lion among monkeys, lies dead! I am going to throw myself at his feet!’ and she ran from there weeping, beating her head and breast.

  She arrived at the spot where her husband lay, the monkey who had killed dānavas, who never fled from battle, who hurled mountains on the battlefield as Indra hurled thunderbolts, whose battle cry was like the rumbling of thunder. She saw Rāma leaning on his bow and she saw Lakṣmaṇa and her husband’s younger brother. She ran past them all to where her husband lay on the battlefield and when she saw him, she swooned in grief and fell to the ground. Recovering consciousness, she rose like one who wakes from a deep sleep and seeing Vālī bound by death’s noose, she wailed, ‘Oh my noble husband!’ Sugrīva saw her weeping and noticed that Angada had also arrived and he felt a consuming sadness.

  Tārā, with her star-bright face, embraced her husband’s body. ‘Oh great hero, so ruthless in battle, why do you not speak to me? I stand here before you, utterly wretched! Stand up, tiger among monkeys, and come back to your soft bed. The ground is not an appropriate place for a king like you! Ah! my heart must be hard indeed that it does not shatter into a thousand pieces when I see you dead on the ground! You exiled Sugrīva and took his wife. Now you are paying the price for that!

  ‘But Rāma, who did this terrible thing, killing Vālī while he was fighting another, feels no remorse! And I, who have never known any sorrow, shall burn in the fires of my grief as a widow with no one to protect me. What about my son Angada? He has been raised in the lap of luxury and has known only happiness! How will he live with an uncle who is a slave to anger?

  ‘My son, take a good look at your father, who loved dharma, for you shall not see him again. Reassure your son and give him some final advice. Kiss him on the forehead, for you have embarked on your final journey! Rāma did a great thing by killing you and paying off his debt to Sugrīva. You have got what you wanted, Sugrīva, you have Rūmā back. Enjoy your kingship, for your brother who was your enemy is now dead! Why do you not speak to me even as I babble on with love as I weep? Look at all your lovely wives,
king of the monkeys!’

  Seeing Tārā’s distress, all the other female monkeys clung to Angada and began to wail.

  Vālī was now breathing with difficulty and his life was ebbing fast. He looked around him and saw Sugrīva standing in front of Angada. ‘Sugrīva, do not hold a grudge against me for what I have done!’ he said affectionately to the victorious king of the monkeys. ‘I did it because my mind was confounded by fate and there is no resisting that! I can only think that we were not destined to enjoy kingship and brotherly love at the same time! Today, you shall take over as the king of the monkeys and I shall go to the abode of death.

  ‘Look at Angada, lying on the ground and weeping! He is still a boy but he is no fool! He has grown up without any hardships and he deserves all happiness. He is dearer to me than life, this son of mine. Look after him as your own and protect his interests at all times. Be his protector and benefactor in times of trouble, as I have been. Tārā’s son is equal to you in strength and courage and he will be in he forefront of the battle with the rākṣasas. He is young but his performance in battle will be worthy of him in every way.

  ‘Tārā, the daughter of Suṣeṇa, is intelligent and understands the subtleties and nuances of every situation. She can see danger and prepares for it. You should follow her advice without hesitation. Her judgement is flawless and she is never wrong. Do Rāma’s work without thinking twice. To not do so would be unrighteous. But do not slight him for he will punish you! Take this celestial golden necklace, Sugrīva. I will not need its glory when I am dead!’

  Sugrīva’s elation vanished before Vālī’s affection like a moon under an eclipse, and he began to feel wretched and sad. His resentment disappeared and eager to follow Vālī’s instructions, he stepped forward to receive the necklace. Vālī was ready to give up his life, but then his eye fell on his son.

  ‘Receive the good and the bad with equanimity,’ he said lovingly. ‘Learn to understand what is appropriate for time and place and always listen to Sugrīva. Do not ally yourself with his enemies or those that oppose him. Be restrained. Devote yourself to your king and obey his orders at all times!’