The Ramayana

by Valmiki

  Rāvaṇa recovered his strength and hurled a spear at Lakṣmaṇa that was as bright as a smokeless fire and struck terror into the hearts of all the monkeys. It hit Lakṣmaṇa in the middle of his broad chest and felled him. Just then, Hanumān jumped into the fray and punched Rāvaṇa in the chest with his great fist. Rāvaṇa fell to his knees and vomited, blood pouring out of his eyes and ears. He reeled and fell into a faint and even when he regained consciousness, he was unsteady on his feet. All the monkeys rejoiced when they saw Rāvaṇa laid low in battle.

  Hanumān lifted Lakṣmaṇa from where he lay and carried him to Rāma. Seeing that Lakṣmaṇa was invincible, the spear left him and returned to its place in Rāvaṇa’s chariot. Lakṣmaṇa’s wound healed and he recovered completely.

  Meanwhile, Rāvaṇa had also recovered and he harried the monkey army with his arrows. Rāma decided to go after him and Hanumān came to him and said, ‘Climb onto my back and attack the rākṣasa!’ Rāvaṇa charged towards them and struck Hanumān with his sharp arrows. Rāma was enraged and assailed Rāvaṇa with his arrows that destroyed his chariot with its fluttering banners. He struck Rāvaṇa in the middle of the chest with an arrow that hit him with the force of Indra’s thunderbolt. The king of the rākṣasas staggered as his bow fell from his hands. Rāma chose a crescent shaped arrow and shattered Rāvaṇa’s golden crown.

  Rāvaṇa was now like a serpent bereft of poison, like the sun dimmed, as he stood there, his crown in pieces, his majesty crushed. ‘You have done many terrible things. You have deprived me of the valiant warriors you killed. But I know you are exhausted so I will not kill you now!’ said Rāma.

  Dismissed with these words, Rāvaṇa hurried back to Lankā, his pride in tatters, his horses and charioteer slain, his crown in pieces. Rāma saw to it that Lakṣmaṇa and the wounded monkeys were attended to before the next battle. The gods and the ṛṣis, the asuras and the uragas and all the creatures from all the directions rejoiced that the enemy of the three worlds had been humbled.

  Chapter Seven

  Rāvaṇa returned to Lankā and sat on his golden throne, his eyes cast down. ‘All my austerities and penance have been in vain,’ he said, ‘for I, Indra’s equal, have been defeated in battle by a mere mortal! Brahmā’s warning that I would have to live in fear of mortals has come back to haunt me. What he says must come true! I asked for immunity from gods, gandharvas, yakṣas, rākṣasas and pannagas but I did not ask for the same protection against mortals.

  ‘Make sure the rākṣasas who guard the towers and gates are fully alert. And go and wake Kumbhakarṇa who sleeps under Brahmā’s curse. He can humble the pride of the gods and dānavas!’ said Rāvaṇa as he realized the significance of his own defeat and Prahasta’s. He sent a huge force to wake the giant Kumbhakarṇa. ‘That rākṣasa sleeps for six, seven, eight and nine months at a time,’ he said. ‘Wake him immediately! He is the mightiest of the rākṣasas and he will kill the monkeys and the princes in no time at all! Kumbhakarṇa is addicted to the vulgar pleasure of sleep but once he is awake, I, who have suffered this terrible indignity, will have nothing to worry about. What use is he to me, even if he is Indra’s equal, if he cannot help me in this time of trouble.’

  The rākṣasas obeyed Rāvaṇa’s command and went with great trepidation to Kumbhakarna’s home. They took flowers and incense and huge quantities of food with them and entered the door of his home which itself was one yojanā wide. The house was filled with fragrances of all kinds but the wind from Kumbhakarṇa’s breathing was so strong, it was difficult for the rākṣasas to stand. They managed to enter his house with a great deal of trouble. His room was paved with gold and the rākṣasas gazed in wonder at that creature who was terrifying even in his sleep.

  Kumbhakarṇa lay sprawled, as large as a fallen mountain, and the rākṣasas began their efforts to wake him. His hair stood straight up and his hissing breath came out in huge blasts. His open mouth was like hell itself and even his nostrils were terrifying. The rākṣasas prepared a huge pile of meat, tall as a second Mount Meru, that consisted of boar and deer and buffalo in order to tempt Kumbhakarṇa. They placed pots of blood and enticing liquors before him and they anointed him with priceless unguents and covered him with rare, fragrant flowers. They lit perfumed incense and they sang his praises. They blew moon-white conches as loud as they could and shouted and raised a terrible din.

  Then they lost patience and yelled and screamed and shook him and pounded on his body. When they found that even that had no effect, they beat him with trees and rocks and clubs and maces and with their fists and feet. Even though the rākṣasas were strong and powerful, they could barely stand under the onslaught of Kumbhakarṇa’s breath.

  Some of them resorted to stronger measures. With whips and goads, they drove horses and camels and elephants and asses over his body. They played drums and conches as loudly as they could and beat the giant with whips. Their noise filled the city of Lankā but they could not wake Kumbhakarṇa. He continued to sleep under a powerful curse and the rākṣasas began to get angry. They yelled and shouted and pulled his hair and bit his ears but Kumbhakarṇa did not even stir in his death-like sleep. They armed themselves with hammers and clubs and beat him on his chest and head. Finally, they drove one thousand elephants over his body and Kumbhakarṇa twitched, for, at last, he had felt something.

  The rākṣasas had pounded him with trees and rocks and the giant had ignored them. But now that he was awake, he was hungry. He yawned widely, flinging up his arms that were as long and strong as snakes and as powerful as mountains. His yawning mouth was as deep as hell and as red as the sun rising over Mount Meru. He exhaled with a huge sigh that was like the wind blowing off a mountain and his flashing eyes looked like planets in a malignant configuration.

  Kumbhakarṇa gorged himself on the meats and foods and liquors until he was completely sated. When the rākṣasas saw that he was finally satisfied, they gathered around him with bowed heads and joined palms. Surprised at being awakened, Kumbhakarṇa looked around at them all and said, ‘Why have you woken me up? Is everything all right with the king? Is he in danger? There must be some trouble for you to have woken me with such urgency. I will kill whoever it is that threatens the king, even if it is Indra or Agni! My brother would never have had me woken up for something trivial! Tell me, why have I been awakened?’

  Yūpākṣa, one of Rāvaṇa’s ministers, said, ‘We are not in danger from the gods, the dānavas or the daityas. This time, it is a mortal that threatens us. Lankā has been surrounded by monkeys that are the size of mountains and it is Rāma, who grieves for Sītā, who frightens us. A lone monkey set fire to the entire city. He also killed prince Akṣa along with his army and his elephants. And even Rāvaṇa, the thorn in the side of the gods, was granted his life by Rāma who shines like the sun! Rāma has done what the gods, the dānavas and the daityas could not do to our king! He let him go after nearly taking his life.’

  Kumbhakarṇa’s eyes widened in amazement when he heard this. ‘I will go right now and kill all the monkeys and Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa!’ he said to Yūpākṣa. ‘Then I will go and see Rāvaṇa. Let the rākṣasas feast on monkey flesh while I drink the blood of Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa!’

  Mahodara, a veteran warrior, joined his palms and said, ‘Listen to what Rāvaṇa has to say first. Weigh the pros and cons of the situation and then go out and be victorious in battle.’ The rākṣasas, having persuaded Kumbhakarṇa to agree, ran ahead to Rāvaṇa’s palace and said, ‘Your brother has woken up! Should he go straight into battle or do you want to see him first?’

  ‘Send him to me so that I can receive him with honour!’ said Rāvaṇa with delight.

  Kumbhakarṇa rose from his bed when he heard that his brother wanted to see him. He gargled and took a bath and adorned himself and asked for something to drink. The rākṣasas brought him all kinds of fine liquors and Kumbhakarṇa drank a thousand pots of wine. Pleased with himself and a little t
ipsy, Kumbhakarṇa set off, looking like the doomsday fire. The earth shook under his feet as he walked to his brother’s palace.

  When the monkeys saw Kumbhakarṇa, some of them ran to Rāma for protection, others fell down in a daze, some sank to the ground and others ran away in terror. Tall as a mountain peak with a crown that seemed to touch the sky, Kumbhakarṇa blazed with splendour and his body seemed to grow bigger and bigger.

  Kumbhakarṇa touched his brother’s feet. Rāvaṇa rose, embraced the giant and seated him on a magnificent throne. Kumbhakarṇa’s eyes blazed as he said, ‘Why did you have me woken up, king? Tell me who it is you fear and he shall be a corpse today!’

  Rāvaṇa saw his brother’s eyes rolling and knew that he was in a mighty rage. ‘It has been a long time since you fell asleep,’ said Rāvaṇa. ‘Fortunately for you, you know nothing of the troubles Rāma has created. Along with Sugrīva, Daśaratha’s son is destroying us! The monkeys built a bridge and crossed over the ocean to Lankā with no trouble at all. Now they run amok in its woods and forests. I do not see any monkeys being killed, but they have killed the best of rākṣasas in battle.

  ‘My resources are dwindling. You must come to the aid of Lankā which is the refuge of old people and children. Mighty one, for the sake of the love we share as brothers, help me! I have confidence in you. I have never begged anyone like this before!’

  Kumbhakarṇa embraced his brother and after bowing to him, he prepared to go out into battle. Rāvaṇa invoked blessings upon his head as he left. Drums boomed and conches blared as Kumbhakarṇa went forth followed by fully armed warriors on horses and elephants and in chariots. Intoxicated with alcohol and the smell of blood, the mighty Kumbhakarṇa strode out, armed with a spear. He was showered with flowers and a canopy was held over his head.

  An immense band of foot soldiers, fierce rākṣasas with baleful eyes and prodigious strength, followed him into battle. Their huge bodies were as dark as mountains of collyrium and they made a great din as they marched along with their weapons raised. Mighty Kumbhakarṇa seemed to have taken a newer and more immense body which was so terrifying that it caused the monkeys’ hair to stand on end. He was six hundred bow-lengths tall and one hundred bow-lengths wide, his eyes were like cart wheels and he glowed like a mountain.

  Kumbhakarṇa ignored the evil omens which appeared as he left the city. He crossed the ramparts and gazed at the army of monkeys that was as huge as a bank of clouds. And when the monkeys saw that giant who was the size of a mountain, they scattered like clouds in the wind. Kumbhakarṇa laughed aloud when he saw the monkeys running in all directions and caused many monkeys to fall down in a swoon.

  Angada and the other monkey leaders tried to stop the fleeing monkeys. ‘Have you forgotten your powers and your noble lineage? How can you run away in fright like common cowards?’ they shouted. ‘Come back, friends! How can you care only for your own lives? This thing that terrifies you is not real. It is an illusion created by the rākṣasas and we can destroy it with our strength!’

  Somewhat reassured, the monkeys regrouped and armed themselves with trees and rocks. They turned around and attacked Kumbhakarṇa in fury but he remained unmoved despite their repeated assaults. The rocks shattered and the trees snapped against his huge body. Meanwhile, he ploughed through the apes, crushing them and tossing them about. Some tumbled into the sea, others fled into the sky, some ran down the bridge they had built.

  Angada exhorted them to return. ‘Stand and fight!’ he screamed. ‘Women laugh at warriors who fling down their weapons and run away from the battlefield. Surely that is worse than death! Remember your ancestry and stop behaving like common creatures! Our life on earth is short in any case. If we die in battle, we shall go to Brahmā’s realm. We shall earn fame and renown if we kill the enemy! Like a moth rushing into a fire, Kumbhakarṇa will not live once Rāma has set eyes on him. If we run from Kumbhakarṇa, we shall be branded cowards and will never achieve fame!’

  Encouraged by Angada’s words, the monkeys rallied and with renewed vigour they prepared to meet Kumbhakarṇa again. They attacked him with trees and rocks but Kumbhakarṇa flung them about, seven and eight hundred at a time, and they fell to the earth, their limbs smashed. He gathered sixteen and eighteen monkeys into his arms and threw them into his mouth, devouring them the way Garuḍa would snakes. Unable to have any effect on the giant, the monkey leaders set about destroying his forces by crushing them with mountain peaks.

  Hanumān rained rocks and stones upon Kumbhakarṇa from the sky but Kumbhakarṇa shattered them all with his spear. Hanumān placed himself in Kumbhakarṇa’s path and hurled a mountain peak at him with all his energy. Kumbhakarṇa whirled his shining spear above his head and struck Hanumān with it in the middle of his chest. Dazed and bewildered, Hanumān vomited blood and let out a terrible scream while the rākṣasas rejoiced to see him injured.

  Thousands of monkeys rushed upon Kumbhakarṇa. They climbed up his body as they would climb a hill, they bit him and scratched him and pounded him with their fists and feet. But Kumbhakarṇa ignored their blows and shovelled them into his mouth. He consumed the monkeys the way fire consumes a forest, making the earth slippery with blood and gore.

  Sugrīva, the heroic king of the monkeys, rose and rushed towards Kumbhakarṇa, brandishing a mountain peak. He threw an immense rock at Kumbhakarṇa with all his energy so that it struck him with the force of a thunderbolt. But the rock shattered into pieces against the giant’s massive chest. Enraged, Kumbhakarṇa hurled his spear at Sugrīva but Hanumān rose up and caught the iron spear adorned with gold, breaking it in two across his knee. Kumbhakarṇa seized a peak and brought it down on Sugrīva’s head, knocking him out cold.

  Kumbhakarṇa lifted Sugrīva in his arms and carried him away into the air, looking like Mount Meru with a cloud. The rākṣasas on the battlefield rejoiced but the army of monkeys scattered in all directions. Hanumān felt sure that he could rescue Sugrīva but then decided against it. Since Sugrīva was capable of freeing himself, it would not be the right thing to do. So he set about rallying the monkey army that was in retreat.

  Kumbhakarṇa entered the city of Lankā with the twitching Sugrīva in his arms. He was greeted with a rain of flowers from the people who crowded the towers and mansions. Refreshed by the cool water and the breeze that blew along the road, Sugrīva regained consciousness and found that he was in the arms of his enemy who was much stronger than himself. Quickly, he tore off Kumbhakarṇa’s ears with his nails, bit off his nose, digging into his sides with his feet. Bleeding profusely, Kumbhakarṇa howled in pain and hurled Sugrīva onto the ground. Rākṣasas attacked Sugrīva in a group but he sprang into the air and returned to Rāma.

  Without his nose and ears, Kumbhakarṇa looked like a mountain drenched in cascades of blood. Relying on his phenomenal strength, he decided to go back into battle. He realized that he had lost his weapon and so he armed himself with a mighty iron club. Hungry and hankering for flesh and blood, he devoured the monkeys like the doomsday fire. He gobbled up monkeys and rākṣasas indiscriminately, shoving them into his mouth twenty and thirty at a time.

  Rāma invoked Śiva’s weapon and pierced Kumbhakarṇa’s heart with many sharp arrows. Sparks and smoke emerged from Kumbhakarṇa’s cavernous mouth and his huge mace fell to the ground as the peacock-feathered-arrows lodged in his chest. Kumbhakarṇa found that he was unarmed and lashed out with his feet and fists. Weak and disoriented from loss of blood, he ran around in circles, attacking monkeys and rākṣasas.

  Rāma picked up his great bow and bore down upon Kumbhakarṇa, followed by Lakṣmaṇa. The sight of Rāma with his magnificent bow and quiver full of deadly arrows reassured the monkey army. Rāma saw Kumbhakarṇa, his gleaming crown upon his head, covered in blood, devouring everything in sight. His eyes bloodshot, he licked the blood that poured from his face and trampled upon the monkey army like death at the end of time.

  Rāma twanged his bow and the sound dr
ove Kumbhakarṇa into a frenzy. He charged towards Rāma who shouted, ‘Come! I am ready for you, armed with my bow! Know that this is Rāma who speaks to you. You shall be dead within the hour!’ Kumbhakarṇa laughed hideously and the monkeys’ hearts leapt into their mouths. ‘This is not Virādha or Khara or Kabandha, Vālī or Mārīca! I am Kumbhakarṇa! Look at my massive iron club with which I have destroyed gods and dānavas in the past! Do not look at me and think that I have neither nose nor ears. I feel no pain from those injuries. Show me your strength, tiger among men, and then I shall eat you up!’

  Rāma loosed his splendid arrows against Kumbhakarṇa to no effect. The same arrows that had pierced the sāla trees and killed Vālī made not the slightest impression upon Kumbhakarṇa. Rāma invoked Vāyu’s weapon and severed Kumbhakarṇa’s right arm which was wielding the enormous club. The club fell to the ground, killing hundreds of monkeys. The ones that survived retired to a safe distance, trembling, and watched the terrible battle from there. Then Rāma invoked Indra’s weapon and cut off Kumbhakarṇa’s other arm which brandished a tree. That arm crushed trees and mountains and monkeys and rākṣasas as it fell. But still, Kumbhakarṇa lumbered towards Rāma, roaring as he came. Rāma cut off his legs with two crescent-headed arrows. Kumbhakarṇa opened his mouth wide and came forward. Rāma filled his terrifying maw with sharp, golden arrows. And then, Rāma picked his most formidable arrow, powered by Indra himself. It blazed like the sun and was as invincible as death. He loosed it against the rākṣasa and it sped through the air with the force of Indra’s thunderbolt, lighting up the ten directions. It severed Kumbhakarṇa’s mountainous head with its bared teeth and dangling golden earrings. The head smashed towers and ramparts as it fell and his massive body collapsed into the ocean, crushing fish and mighty serpents as it buried itself in the seabed.