The Ramayana

by Valmiki

  Displaying his skill, Indrajit struck Lakṣmaṇa on the forehead with three splendid arrows with feathered shafts and Lakṣmaṇa shone on the battlefield like a mountain with three peaks. He retaliated by sending five arrows against Indrajit. They fought close to one another, wounding each other in every limb. Indrajit hurled his golden spear but Lakṣmaṇa destroyed it in the air with a hail of arrows. Indrajit then pulled out the incomparable arrow that had been given to him by Yama, but Lakṣmaṇa recognized it and took out one that matched it. It had been given to him by Kubera in a dream and was utterly invincible, not even the gods or the asuras could withstand it. Both warriors pulled back their bowstrings till they sang and loosed the arrows which blazed through the air. They lit up the sky as they headed for a mid-air collision. They clashed against each other like mighty planets and split into a hundred pieces as they fell to the ground. Indrajit and Lakṣmaṇa were ashamed and angry that their precious weapons had been used in vain and they resorted to the other celestial weapons at their command. Lakṣmaṇa loosed Varuṇa’s weapon and Indrajit countered it with Śiva’s.

  The battle between Indrajit and Lakṣmaṇa raised a terrible din and the sky was filled with beings who watched the encounter in amazement. Gods and gandharvas, ṛṣis, the ancestors, Garuḍa and uragas, even Indra himself, allied themselves with Lakṣmaṇa and hoped for his victory.

  Picking an arrow which burned to the touch like fire, Lakṣmaṇa chose it for Indrajit’s death. It’s shaft was perfectly rounded, it was well-proportioned and smooth-jointed, fitted with splendid feathers and adorned with gold. It was incapable of missing its mark and it struck fear into the hearts of the rākṣasas. As deadly as venom, it was respected even by the gods. Lakṣmaṇa invoked the power of Indra for this incomparable arrow as he fitted it into his magnificent bow. As he drew the bow back as far as his ear, auspicious Lakṣmaṇa whispered, ‘If Rāma, the son of Daśaratha, is righteous and devoted to truth, if he is unrivalled in valour, then may this arrow slay the son of Rāvaṇa!’

  The arrow severed Indrajit’s head with its helmet and golden earrings and flung it to the ground. That mighty head gleamed like beaten gold as it lay there and Rāvaṇa’s son, still in his armour, tumbled to the ground, holding his bow. At once, Vibhīṣaṇa and all the monkeys began to shout with delight, rejoicing at the death of Indrajit. Their shouts of joy were echoed from the skies where the celestial beings and the gods joined in the celebration. The rākṣasas realized that Indrajit had been killed and they abandoned their weapons and fled towards Lanka chased by the victorious monkeys. Some jumped into the ocean, others took refuge in the mountains. Thousands of rākṣasas disappeared as the sun’s rays disappear when it has set. Indrajit lay sprawled on the ground like the sun that has been quenched, like a fire that has died down.

  The worlds shone brightly, freed from their torment and anguish now that Rāvaṇa’s son was dead. The gods, dānavas and the gandharvas gathered and said, ‘May the brahmins go about their business free from anxiety and torment!’ The monkeys praised the victorious Lakṣmaṇa. They surrounded him, laughing and shouting. They slapped their arms and whipped their tails and hugged each other, telling tales of Lakṣmaṇa’s exploits on the battlefield.

  Even though his own body was covered with blood, Lakṣmaṇa rejoiced at having killed Indrajit. He went as quickly as he could to see Rāma and Sugrīva along with Hanumān, Jāmbavān and the other monkey leaders. He greeted Rāma and honoured him. Then, he stood to one side as Bṛhaspati would stand with Indra, and told Rāma that Indrajit was dead. Vibhīṣaṇa told Rāma how Lakṣmaṇa had severed Indrajit’s head and Rāma was filled with delight.

  Rāma embraced Lakṣmaṇa and drew him onto his lap. He caressed him gently and said, ‘You have done an incredible thing by killing that wicked creature. Rāvaṇa depended heavily on Indrajit and now he will soon be destroyed. I am sure the king of the rākṣasas will soon come forth surrounded by a huge army. The recovery of Sītā and my kingdom seem simple now that you have killed Indrajit in battle!’

  Rāma held his brother close as he turned to Suṣeṇa and said, ‘Lakṣmaṇa, who is loved by all his friends, is in agony from his wounds. You must restore him to health. And you must also heal the wounds of the other monkeys who fought so valiantly with trees and rocks.’ Suṣeṇa gave Lakṣmaṇa a fragrant herb to inhale and did the same for Vibhīṣaṇa and the injured monkeys. In a moment, Lakṣmaṇa’s wound healed and his pain vanished. The monkey army was delighted to see Lakṣmaṇa back to normal and rejoiced with Rāma at the death of Indrajit.

  Rāvaṇa’s retainers heard about Indrajit’s death and, filled with sorrow, they went to tell Rāvaṇa. ‘Your heroic son was killed in battle by Lakṣmaṇa while we were all present, great king! He was felled by Lakṣmaṇa’s arrows in an encounter between two majestic warriors.’

  Rāvaṇa heard the terrible news and fell into a dead faint. He recovered consciousness after a long time and overcome with grief, he mourned the death of his son. ‘Ah, my son! Best of all the chariot warriors! Finest of the rākṣasas! You even defeated Indra, how could you have fallen to Lakṣmaṇa? When you were angry, you could pierce the peaks of Mount Mandara, vanquish even time and death! What was Lakṣmaṇa in battle compared to that! The man who dies in the service of his king goes straight to heaven. This is the path taken by great warriors, even among the gods.

  ‘Now that Indrajit has been killed, the gods, immortals and the guardians of the earth shall sleep without fear! But the three worlds and the earth with all its forests seem empty to me without Indrajit! I shall hear rākṣasa women in the inner apartments weeping piteously over his death. Where have you gone, my son, leaving your mother and me and your wife? Why have you left us when Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sugrīva are still alive, when the thorn in my side remains?’

  Rāvaṇa’s grief turned into a bitter, all-consuming rage as he mourned. His face, already fearsome, became truly terrifying and he seemed as unapproachable as Śiva. Angry tears fell from his eyes like scalding oil from burning lamps. He ground his teeth and the sound filled the air like thunder. He blazed like the doomsday fire and as he looked around, rākṣasas ran from him in terror. No one dared come near him as he stood there, looking like death.

  Hoping to inspire the rākṣasas to fight again, Rāvaṇa roared, ‘I have practised fierce austerities for thousands of years and I have propitiated Brahmā! And because he was pleased with me, I have never had to fear the gods or the asuras. Brahmā gave me armour that shines like the sun, which cannot be pierced by the weapons of the gods. I stand here in my chariot, who would dare oppose me now? Brahmā also gave me a magnificent bow and arrows to use in the wars with the gods. Bring them to me and I shall use them to kill Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa!’

  Thousands upon thousands of rākṣasas with their horses and chariots which blazed like fire and were decorated with colourful banners had been destroyed. Heroic rākṣasas who could change their shapes at will had been killed by Rāma’s arrows which were swift and sharp and adorned with gold.

  Utterly demoralized, the surviving rākṣasas gathered along with the widows and wives and mothers and sisters and children of those that had been killed. Overcome with grief, they came together to mourn, weeping and wailing. ‘Why did that ugly Śūrpanakhā, that pot-bellied hag, attach herself to Rāma in the forest? He is as beautiful as the god of love, young and strong and intent on the welfare of all creatures. How could that deformed creature with no virtues at all throw herself at that honourable, handsome man?

  ‘Unfortunately, her actions led to the killing of the rākṣasas as well as Khara and Dūṣaṇa which led to the deadly enmity with Rāvaṇa. He abducted Sītā and that will be the cause of his death. Sītā will never accept Rāvaṇa! Now he has an invincible foe in Rāma. We need no further displays of Rāma’s strength and valour!

  ‘It is Śiva or Viṣṇu or Indra, perhaps death itself, that has come to claim us in the form of
Rāma! Rāma has killed all our mighty warriors and we have lost all hopes of living! We see no end to our fears and so we wail together!

  ‘Rāvaṇa has been given boons for battle and he remains oblivious to the threat that Rāma poses. Not the gods nor the gandharvas, not the piśācas nor the rākṣasas can save a man whom Rāma has targeted. Portents of doom have appeared in battle after battle and they surely mean that Rāma will kill Rāvaṇa! Brahmā gave Rāvaṇa immunity from gods, dānavas and rākṣasas, but he is not protected from mortals! The end for Rāvaṇa and the rākṣasas has arrived in the form of a man!

  ‘When the gods were being harassed by the rākṣasas, they appealed to Brahmā and he promised them that a woman would be born to destroy the rākṣasas. Urged by the gods, Sītā is bound to cause the annihilation of the rākṣasas. Rāvaṇa’s terrible deeds and unrighteous behaviour have brought this catastrophe upon us. Where can we take refuge? No one can protect us from Rāma, just as there is no protection from the deluge at the end of time.’

  The rākṣasīs clung to each other and wept, their hearts filled with fear. Rāvaṇa could hear the sad sounds of rākṣasīs wailing and weeping from all over Lankā. He sighed heavily and remained lost in thought for a while but then his anger returned and he was terrifying to behold. He bit his lips and his eyes blazed red. He seemed like the doomsday fire and even the rākṣasas were afraid to look at him. ‘Tell Mahāpārśva, Mahodara and Virūpākṣa to get the forces ready for battle immediately!’ he roared.

  The three mighty rākṣasas did as they had been instructed and presented themselves to Rāvaṇa. ‘Today I shall kill Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa with my arrows which blaze like the doomsday fire!’ he said, laughing maniacally. ‘I shall avenge the deaths of Khara, Kumbhakarṇa, Prahasta and Indrajit. Nothing, not the skies nor the directions, not the rivers nor the seas will be visible because the shower of my arrows will blot them out. I shall kill all the monkeys with my arrows adorned with feathers. I shall crush the monkeys as an elephant tramples upon a pool of lotuses. With arrows sticking out of their bodies, the monkeys will cover the earth like long-stemmed flowers. With every arrow I shall kill hundreds of monkeys who are armed with trees. I shall kill them and wipe the tears of all those whose husbands, sons and brothers have been killed. I shall feed the jackals and vultures with enemy flesh until they cannot eat another thing. Prepare my chariot! Fetch my bow! And tell all the surviving rākṣasas to follow me at once!’

  Chapter Eleven

  The army commanders went from house to house to summon the rākṣasa warriors. In no time at all, the heroic rākṣasas gathered, armed with all their weapons, shouting for a fight. A magnificent chariot yoked with eight horses was prepared for Rāvaṇa. Rāvaṇa mounted the chariot which was illuminated by his splendour and as he moved forward, the earth trembled beneath his feet. Mahodara, Mahāpārśva and Virūpākṣa followed him in their own chariots, roaring with delight in their eagerness for battle. Surrounded by heroic warriors, Rāvaṇa set forth like death.

  He departed through the gate and went to where Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa waited for him. The sun dimmed, the four quarters were covered in darkness, the earth trembled and birds cried out in pain. The gods rained blood, Rāvaṇa’s horses stumbled and a vulture settled on his flagstaff as jackals howled hideously. Rāvaṇa’s left eye twitched and his right arm quivered. His face lost colour and his voice trembled, but he continued onwards despite these portents of defeat. A firebrand thundered out of the sky, vultures cried and crows called back to them. Rāvaṇa ignored these signs and went towards his own destruction, impelled by his fate.

  The monkeys heard the sound of the approaching rākṣasas and prepared themselves for battle. A noisy fight ensued as they challenged each other in anger, determined to win. Rāvaṇa sent his gold-decorated arrows out among the monkeys. Some of them had their heads cut off, others had their chests split open, others stopped breathing in their tracks and fell dead. Still others had their heads broken and some had their eyes fall out. Everywhere Rāvaṇa went on the battlefield, the monkeys could not withstand the power of his arrows.

  The earth was littered with the mangled bodies of monkeys that Rāvaṇa had killed. They ran from there, screaming like elephants fleeing from a forest fire. Rāvaṇa scattered them with his arrows as the wind scatters the clouds. And having wrought terrible destruction among the forces, Rāvaṇa sought out Rāma.

  Sugrīva advanced towards Rāvaṇa holding an immense tree and all the monkey leaders arranged themselves behind and around him, armed with rocks and stones. Sugrīva shouted as he showered stones and rocks upon the enemy as a cloud might shower hail on birds in the forest. As Sugrīva was tormenting the rākṣasa forces who were falling down all over the place and screaming, Virūpākṣa grabbed his bow, leapt out of his chariot and climbed onto the back of an elephant. Releasing a stream of arrows, he chased after Sugrīva and rallied the rākṣasas who were losing heart.

  Sugrīva struck the elephant with a huge tree and the animal collapsed, trumpeting in pain. Virūpākṣa came towards Sugrīva with his sword and dodged the rock the monkey flung at him. The rākṣasa sliced at the monkey and Sugrīva staggered. But he soon recovered and pounded Virūpākṣa with his fist. Virūpākṣa cut off Sugrīva’s armour with his sword and then went for him with his fists. Enraged, Sugrīva slapped Virūpākṣa with his open palm on his forehead and the blow resounded like thunder. Drenched with blood, Virūpākṣa fell to the ground, appearing even more cross-eyed than he actually was. The monkeys watched as the rākṣasa writhed in pain and cried out and then they plunged into battle again with their enemies. The battle between the forces raged on, thundering like an ocean that had transgressed its bounds.

  As the battle went on, the armies diminished in size like lakes which dry up in the summer. Rāvaṇa called upon Mahaparśra to stem the destruction of his forces and Mahodara went into battle eagerly, like a moth towards a flame. Sugrīva saw that Mahodara was troubling the monkey forces and he picked up a rock that was large as a mountain. He hurled it at the rākṣasa but Mahodara splintered it with his arrows. It fell to the earth like a flock of frightened vultures. Sugrīva uprooted a tree, but Mahodara treated it in the same way. Enraged, Sugrīva grabbed an iron club lying nearby and pounded Mahodara’s horses to death with it.

  Mahodara advanced with his mace and the two warriors began to fight like bulls, roaring like thunder clouds. They clashed so mightily that their weapons destroyed each other. Then they attacked each other with their fists, blazing like twin fires. Quick as lightning, Mahodara picked up a sword and Sugrīva did the same. They bellowed with delight as they came at one another, each an expert at handling weapons. They circled each other, determined to wrest victory. As Mahodara was trying to retrieve his sword from the shield in which it was stuck, Sugrīva struck his head a mighty blow. The head with its helmet and earrings fell to the ground and the rākṣasa forces did not wait to see any more. The monkeys cried out with delight and while Rāvaṇa raged, Rāma rejoiced.

  Mahāpārśva stepped in immediately and harried the monkeys with his arrows. He caused heads to roll like the fruit from palm trees, he sliced off arms and shoulders and ripped into the sides of the monkeys. Angada saw that the monkeys were in trouble and he summoned all his energies together and hurled a sun-bright iron club at Mahāpārśva. Mahāpārśva fell senseless but soon recovered and stormed Angada with a hail of arrows. Angada hurled the same shining club at the rākṣasa and it ripped the bow and arrows from Mahāpārśva’s hand and the helmet from his head. Mahāpārśva struck Angada with a magnificent battle axe and Angada retaliated by hitting him with his fist. From his father, Angada had learned about the most vulnerable parts in the body and he struck Mahāpārśva just below the heart. His blow landed like a thunderbolt. Mahāpārśva’s heart burst open and he fell dead.

  Rāvaṇa was incensed when he heard the monkeys rejoicing and was doubly determined to make a firm stand on the battlefield. As Rāva
ṇa drove his chariot towards Rāma, the earth with its mountains, rivers and forests was filled with the rumbling of its wheels. He loosed a terrible weapon, powered by darkness, upon the monkeys and they fell all over the battlefield, burnt to death. Rāvaṇa saw Rāma with Lakṣmaṇa standing by his side, like Indra with Viṣṇu, preparing to join the fray. Leaning on his bow, Rāma watched as the monkeys were routed and Rāvaṇa continued to advance. He twanged the string of his magnificent bow and the sound seemed to rend the earth. Thousands of monkeys and rākṣasas fell to the ground.

  Now within range of the princes’ arrows, Rāvaṇa was like Rāhu approaching the sun or the moon. Lakṣmaṇa was keen to loose the first weapon and so he shot a stream of arrows at Rāvaṇa that burned like tongues of flame. Rāvaṇa intercepted them while they were still in the air and turned his attentions to Rāma who stood there, steady as a rock.

  Rāma and Rāvaṇa assaulted each other with showers of splendid arrows that rivalled each other in their powers. The arrows circled each other in the air and eventually destroyed one another. The air was so thick with missiles that it seemed as if the sky was filled with rain clouds. Arrows flashed like lightning through the dark sky as the battle between the two mighty warriors raged on.

  Rāma invoked the power of Śiva for his arrows and shot a stream of them at Rāvaṇa. They fell all over Rāvaṇa’s impenetrable armour which was as dark as a cloud and the rākṣasa felt no pain at all. Rāma, skilled in the use of all kinds of weapons, struck Rāvaṇa on the forehead with a powerful missile that split his arrows down the middle and entered the earth, hissing like a snake. Unable to use his arrows any more, Rāvaṇa invoked the power of the asuras in his anger and Rāma was assaulted by weapons with the heads of lions, tigers, crows, vultures, jackals, and wolves, their terrifying mouths wide open. Rāma was unmoved by the illusions created by the weapons of the asuras and calmly released the weapon powered by the god of fire. Sharp, blazing arrows that shone like the sun, the moon and the planets poured out of it and stopped Rāvaṇa’s fierce arrows in the air. Rāma was delighted and the monkeys shouted for joy.