The Ramayana

by Valmiki

  Chapter Five

  Meanwhile, Rāma was organizing his forces and giving them last minute instructions. ‘No one will appear on the battlefield in the form of a man. This will be the distinguishing feature of the monkey army. When we see a monkey, we shall know him to be our own person. There are only seven of us who will fight in the form of men: me, Lakṣmaṇa, Vibhīṣaṇa and his four companions!’

  ‘Let us go to the top of the Suvela mountain,’ continued Rāma. ‘It is very pleasant. We can spend the night there. From its summit, I will be able to see Lankā, the home of the creature who abducted my wife and brought about his own death!’ Rāma and the monkey leaders went to the top of the mountain and spent the night there. They saw the magnificent city of Lankā with its mansions and ramparts and tall gateways and they also observed that it was guarded by heavily armed rākṣasas.

  The next morning, Rāma spoke to Lakṣmaṇa. ‘Let us begin the preparations for battle. We must establish control over pools of clear water and the forests filled with fruit. We must also deploy our commanders and their troops and give them their positions.

  ‘I see ill omens that portend the deaths of thousands of rākṣasas and monkeys and I see signs that indicate destruction for the worlds. A mighty gale blows, the earth trembles, the mountains quake and trees fall to the ground. Clouds form in the shape of beasts of prey and carrion eaters and they rumble harshly as they rain down bloody water. The evening sky burns red as sandal and fire balls fall from the sun. These signs indicate the end of the yuga, Lakṣmaṇa! Let us surround Rāvaṇa’s impregnable city without any further delay and lay siege to it!’

  Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa quickly descended from the mountain. Rāma looked out over his own immense army that no enemy could hope to defeat. When the right moment arrived, Rāma took up his bow, placed himself at the head of the army and started to move towards Lankā. Vibhīṣaṇa, Hanumān, Nala, Jāmbavān, Nīla and Lakṣmaṇa followed behind him and after them came the huge army of monkeys and bears that covered the earth. As large as elephants, the monkeys armed themselves with mountain peaks, rocks and huge trees.

  After a while, they reached the outskirts of Lankā. The monkey army settled into its positions and laid siege to the city. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa positioned themselves at Lankā’s northern gate which was as tall as a mountain and particularly well fortified. Rāma chose this gate for himself and Lakṣmaṇa because he knew that Rāvaṇa had placed himself there, and because there was no one else capable of sealing off the gate. Nīla, Mainda and Dvivida were placed at the eastern gate, the mighty warrior Angada took the southern gate with Ṛṣabha, Gavākṣa, Gaja and Gavya. The mightiest monkey of them all, Hanumān, guarded the western gate with Pramāthi, Praghasa and other valiant warriors. Sugrīva himself took the centre with a band of monkeys that were as swift as Garuḍa and as powerful as the wind.

  Fierce monkeys whose teeth were like tigers’ fangs picked up their weapons, eager and ready to do battle. They used their nails and teeth to fight, stood with their tails erect and twisted their faces and bodies into terrifying shapes. Some of them had the strength of ten elephants, others had the strength of a hundred and still others had the strength of a thousand. The army consisted of hundreds of millions of monkeys and it was like a swarm of locusts that covered the earth and sky. The hills that surrounded Lankā were covered with monkeys and even the wind could not get past these great warriors who were armed with trees.

  The rākṣasas were stunned when they found themselves surrounded by monkeys who were as large as clouds and were equal to Indra in valour. Their roaring could only be compared to the ocean at high tide and the walls and gateways of Lankā as well as the hills and forests resounded with their noise.

  On the advice of Vibhīṣaṇa who was skilled in the arts of kingship, Rāma called Angada and gave him a special task. ‘My child, go to the ten-headed Rāvaṇa in Lankā and give him my message. Enter Lankā without fear and tell him this:

  ‘“O rākṣasa! You have been deluded and have done terrible things against the ṛṣis, the gods, gandharvas, apsarases, nāgas, yakṣas and kings. But now the time has come for the destruction of your power and majesty! The arrogance you developed because of your boon from Brahmā will soon be crushed. I have come here to punish you for your transgressions! Show me the strength you used when you carried Sītā off, after you had lured me away with your magic tricks. I shall destroy the earth with my sharp arrows unless you return Sītā and beg for mercy!

  ‘“Righteous Vibhīṣaṇa, the best of all rākṣasas, has joined me. He shall inherit the glories of Lankā completely unencumbered. Summon your courage and all your resources and come and fight me, rākṣasa! My arrows will purify you and bring you the ultimate peace on the battlefield! You cannot escape, now that I have seen you! Even if you take the form of a bird and fly through the three worlds as swift as thought! I speak for your own good. Organize your last rites, take a good look around Lankā for the last time. Your life is now in my hands!”’

  Angada rose into the air and reached Rāvaṇa’s palace in an instant. He saw Rāvaṇa seated amidst his advisors and blazing like fire, golden Angada delivered Rāma’s message.

  Rāvaṇa was incensed with Rāma’s strong words. His eyes blazed and he screamed at his ministers, ‘Catch that idiot and kill him!’ At once, four shining rākṣasas jumped up and grabbed Angada. Angada allowed himself to be caught so that he could display the strength he would use against the rākṣasa army. The rākṣasas clung to his arms like birds and Angada carried them away as he leapt to the top of the palace that was as high as a mountain. As Rāvaṇa watched, the rākṣasas were tossed to the ground by the speed of Angada’s movements. Angada shattered the top of the palace with a single kick and it collapsed right in front of Rāvaṇa. Angada roared out his name and rose into the sky. Rāvaṇa was enraged by the destruction, but he also heaved a great sigh, knowing that his end was near.

  Meanwhile, millions of monkeys had covered the area between the city and the ocean. The rākṣasas stared at them in amazement, some agitated, others rejoicing at the prospect of a fight. They saw that the ramparts were swarming with monkeys and that they had filled the spaces between the ramparts as well as the moats. The rākṣasas raised a terrible din as they set about arming themselves and they sounded like the howling winds at the end of time.

  The rākṣasas went and told Rāvaṇa that the city was under siege by Rāma and the monkeys and Rāvaṇa immediately doubled the guard around his palace. He watched as the monkeys swarmed over Lankā for Rāma’s sake. The monkeys with their coppery red faces and gleaming golden bodies were ready to die for Rāma and they began to attack with rocks and trees and with their clenched fists. They broke buildings and crushed them into the ground. They clogged the clear water moats with rocks and grass and logs of wood. Hundreds of thousands of millions of monkeys climbed into Lankā, clambering over the golden gates and over the towers that were as tall as Mount Kailāsa. They roared and jumped up and down and took any form that pleased them as they swarmed over the ramparts.

  Rāvaṇa was beside himself with rage and called for his entire army to march forth at once. With great delight, the rākṣasa hordes surged out of the city like the ocean during a storm.

  There began a terrible battle between the monkeys and the rākṣasas that recalled the battle between the gods and the asuras in the old days. The rākṣasas ploughed through the monkeys with their spears and clubs and maces and battle axes, boasting about their valour as they did so. But the monkeys fought back with their teeth and nails and with rocks and trees. Rākṣasas stationed on the ramparts attacked the invading monkeys with their weapons and the monkeys retaliated by hurling them off the walls. The indescribable battle between the monkeys and the rākṣasas went on and on and soon the ground under their feet was drenched with blood and smeared with bits of flesh.

  As they fought on, the sun set and the night, which was to take a number of lives, ca
me on. But the fighting continued, for the monkeys and the rākṣasas were sworn to enmity and both sides were equally determined to win. In that terrible darkness, they attacked their own kind, the rākṣasas shouting, ‘You are a monkey!’ and the monkeys shouting, ‘You are a rākṣasa!’

  ‘Kill him!’ ‘Cut him up!’ ‘Why are you running away!’ were the shouts heard through the darkness above the din. As they went on a rampage and devoured the monkeys, the black rākṣasas with their golden armour gleamed like mountains covered with medicinal herbs that emit light. In their rage, they fell upon horses with golden trappings whose plumes were like flames and tore them apart with their sharp teeth. Elephants decorated with plumes and banners were dragged here and there and crushed along with their riders. The dust that rose from the hooves of the horses and from the chariot wheels filled the warriors’ eyes and ears and a river of blood flowed as if in spate.

  The blaring of conches and beating of drums rose into the air and it mingled with the groans of dying rākṣasas and the roars of wounded monkeys. Weapons lay in heaps like piles of flower offerings and the battlefield could not be reached or even be recognized because of the blood and gore everywhere. The night which had come to claim the lives of the monkeys and rākṣasas seemed determined to destroy everything, like the night at the end of time.

  In the darkness, the rākṣasas attacked Rāma together, deluging him with their arrows. But in a split second, Rāma had killed six of them with six sharp arrows that consumed them like tongues of flame. He lit up the directions with his shining, golden arrows and other rākṣasas who tried to attack Rāma were burned like moths at a flame. Thousands of arrows powered by golden feathers flew in all directions and the battlefield was like an autumn night illuminated by fireflies.

  That awful night was made even more so by the roaring of the rākṣasas and the monkeys that echoed and reverberated through the caves of Mount Trikūṭa. Angada was determined to kill the enemy and he destroyed Indrajit’s horses and chariot. Indrajit quickly got rid of his chariot and vanished. Rāvaṇa’s terrifying son was invincible in battle because of a boon he had received from Brahmā. He made himself invisible and loosed a shower of arrows. In his fury, he wounded Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa all over their bodies with arrows that turned into snakes.

  Rāma wanted to know where the rākṣasa prince had disappeared to and appointed ten monkeys to find him. The monkey warriors armed themselves with trees and leapt into the sky in search of Indrajit. But Indrajit was a skilled warrior and harried those swift monkeys with even swifter arrows. The monkeys were wounded by Indrajit’s arrows despite their quick movements, but still, they could not see him in the dark, as the sun cannot be seen behind clouds.

  Indrajit then attacked Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa and his arrows struck them in their vitals. In fact, there was not a single part of their bodies that was spared the onslaught of Indrajit’s arrows. Indrajit, who was as black as collyrium, twanged his bow and struck them again and again. His arrows turned into snakes and bound the brothers so that they could not move. In a moment, they had fallen onto the battlefield, unable, even, to open their eyes. The arrows bit into their flesh as they lay there, like Indra’s flagstaff lies when the ropes that hold it have been severed.

  Their bodies were immobile and covered with arrows right down to their fingertips. Blood flowed from them like rivers from Mount Prasravaṇa. Indrajit, who had even defeated Indra, turned his arrows onto Rāma first and the great hero fell to the ground. He was still holding his mighty bow with the three bends, decorated with gold bands, but it was split right at the point where he held it. When Lakṣmaṇa saw Rāma fallen, he lost the will to live. The monkeys gathered around the two heroic warriors who lay on the ground and were plunged into grief.

  Indrajit rested after accomplishing his task, as Indra rests after he has sent the rains. Vibhīṣaṇa and Sugrīva came with all the other monkeys to where the brothers lay. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were unconscious, barely breathing, as they lay on their bed of arrows in agony with blood pouring from their bodies. The monkeys surrounded them, their eyes dim with tears. They looked up into the sky and in all directions but they could not see the invisible Indrajit anywhere. But he continued to torment the monkeys with his arrows, laughing as he said, ‘Look at those brothers, bound by my snake arrows!’

  The rākṣasas were thrilled and awed by what Indrajit had done and they praised him profusely. ‘Rāma is dead!’ they shouted gleefully and the sound of their cheers swelled as they honoured Rāvaṇa’s son. Indrajit saw Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa lying there, unable to move, and presumed they were dead. He went back into the city in high spirits.

  Sugrīva was terribly frightened when he saw Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa covered with arrows from head to foot. ‘Stem the flow of your tears!’ said Vibhīṣaṇa to the dejected Sugrīva. ‘This is no time for sorrow. These things happen in battle, for no one is assured of victory. We may have a little good fortune left and with that, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa may recover from their swoon. Pull yourself together. That will cheer me up as well. The righteous are never afraid of death!’

  Vibhīṣaṇa gently wiped Sugrīva’s shining eyes with his hand. ‘This is not the time to display our weakness, king of the monkeys! If we succumb to our affection for Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa now, we shall surely die! Let us look after Rāma until he regains consciousness. He will banish our fears when he is better. This injury is nothing to Rāma. He is not going to die! Look, death’s pallor has not yet touched his bright face.

  ‘Compose yourself and go and reassure your troops. I will do the same thing. The troops are very upset. They gaze at each other, their eyes filled with fear, and they whisper among themselves.’ After comforting Sugrīva, Vibhīṣaṇa went to rally the troops who were on the verge of flight.

  Meanwhile, Indrajit had returned to Lankā with his army and went to see his father. He bowed before him and with joined palms, he announced that Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were dead. Delighted, Rāvaṇa leapt from his seat and embraced his son in front of all the rākṣasas. He kissed him on the forehead and questioned him eagerly. In great detail, Indrajit told his father how he killed the brothers.

  Meanwhile, the monkeys kept an alert watch over Rāma, looking in all directions and imagining even a moving blade of grass to be a rākṣasa.

  Rāvaṇa had dismissed his son and now, with great delight, he sent for the rākṣasīs that guarded Sītā. They came at once, led by Trijaṭā. ‘Tell Sītā that Indrajit has killed Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa! Take her to the battlefield in Puṣpaka so that she can see that the husband and the brother-in-law she relied upon to protect her are dead! Now that she has no hope of being rescued, she will adorn herself with jewels and come to me!’

  The rākṣasīs did as they were told and put Sītā in the magical chariot. Rāvaṇa had the city decorated with flags and banners and announced everywhere that Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were dead. Sītā went to the battlefield with Trijaṭā and saw that the entire monkey army had been struck down. She saw rākṣasas celebrating and the monkeys gathered around Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, distraught with grief. She saw Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa lying unconscious upon a bed of arrows, tortured by their wounds. Their armour had been torn open, their bows had fallen from their hands and every inch of their bodies were covered with arrows. Sītā’s grief knew no bounds as she gazed at the brothers who rivalled the gods. Her eyes clouded with tears and she began to wail.

  As she lamented her fate, Trijaṭā said to her, ‘Don’t cry. I am sure your husband is still alive! Listen and I will tell you why I think Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa are not dead.

  ‘An army would not display anger and suppressed excitement if its leaders were dead. If Rāma were truly dead, this magical vehicle would not carry you. This army is calm and collected, Sītā. They watch over the brothers as if they were still alive. All these signs point to a happy conclusion of affairs. I say all this because I am fond of you!

  ‘Look at their vital signs Sīt�
�. They may be unconscious but death’s pallor has not come to their bright faces. Curb your morbid thoughts and your grief! They cannot possibly be dead!’

  Sītā joined her palms and whispered, ‘May all this be true!’ Trijaṭā turned Puṣpaka around and took Sītā back to Lankā. Sītā entered the beautiful aśoka grove but her thoughts stayed with Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa and she was still depressed.

  Even as the monkey leaders stood around Daśaratha’s sons miserably, Rāma recovered consciousness though he was still bound by Indrajit’s snake arrows. When he saw his brother lying there, pale, bloodied and obviously suffering, he cried out in despair. ‘What use to me is Sītā or my life when I see my brother lifeless like this on the battlefield? If I looked hard enough, I would find another woman like Sītā in this world. But I would never find anyone like my brother Lakṣmaṇa, my companion and advisor! If Lakṣmaṇa dies, I will kill myself in front of all the monkeys!

  ‘How can I return to Ayodhyā without him when he followed me into the forest? How will I endure Sumitrā’s reproaches? I cannot go on living, I shall kill myself! Damn me and my ignoble acts that have led to Lakṣmaṇa lying like this, covered with arrows, as if he were dead!

  ‘Ah Lakṣmaṇa! You always comforted me and cheered me! Now I am filled with sorrow and you say not a word! I shall follow this brave hero to the world of the dead just as he followed me into the forest! The empty boast that I would make Vibhīṣaṇa the king of the rākṣasas will haunt me always! Sugrīva, you should return. Rāvaṇa will pursue you thinking that you have been weakened without me. Take your army and your followers across the bridge over the ocean It is not possible for mortals to counter their destinies, Sugrīva! You have done all that a friend and ally can do without transgressing dharma. I give you leave to depart, monkey! Go your own way!’