The Ramayana

by Valmiki

  Rāma and Rāvaṇa fought on and on with all the magical and celestial weapons at their command. Lakṣmaṇa joined the battle and with his well-chosen arrows he ripped apart Rāvaṇa’s battle banner, splintered his bow and arrows and cut off the head of his charioteer. Vibhīṣaṇa used his mace to pulverize Rāvaṇa’s splendid horses which were as dark as rain clouds.

  Enraged, Rāvaṇa hurled a spear which blazed like lightning at his brother, but before it could reach him, Lakṣmaṇa destroyed it with three arrows. The monkeys whooped with joy when the spear fell to the ground, leaving a trail of sparks like a meteor. Rāvaṇa yelled, ‘Since you rescued my brother with your admirable strength, Lakṣmaṇa, I shall leave him alone and attack you instead! I shall hurl this spear at you and it will split your heart in two!’

  Rāvaṇa chose a spear that had been created by the sorcerer Māya, so bright that it dazzled the eye. As he hurled it at Lakṣmaṇa, Rāma muttered, ‘May you stay well, Lakṣmaṇa! And may the spear fail in its purpose and fall, useless, to the ground!’ The spear blazed through the air and lodged itself in Lakṣmaṇa’s chest and he fell to the ground. Rāma’s eyes filled with tears and for a few moments, he stood still. Then, anger welled within him, like the fire that rages at the end of the yuga. He realized that this was not the time for grief and decided to fight Rāvaṇa even more ferociously than before.

  The monkeys gathered around Lakṣmaṇa and tried to pull out the spear that was stuck in his chest but they were scattered by Rāvaṇa’s arrows which fell upon them like rain. The spear had passed through Lakṣmaṇa’s body and pinned him to the earth. Rāma exerted his enormous strength and pulled out the spear, breaking it in two. Rāvaṇa took the opportunity to pierce Rāma all over his body with arrows. Rāma ignored them and, embracing his brother, he said to Hanumān and Sugrīva, ‘Look after my brother, great monkeys!

  ‘The time for which I have waited has finally come, like the rain clouds at the end of summer. I shall kill wicked Rāvaṇa! I promise you, before long, you will see the world deprived either of Rāvaṇa or of Rāma! By killing Rāvaṇa today, I will avenge myself for all that I have suffered: the loss of my kingdom, the exile in the forest, the abduction of Sītā and all the encounters with the rākṣasas. Rāvaṇa will not live, now that I have set eyes on him!

  ‘Go and sit on the top of that mountain, mighty monkeys, and watch as I battle Rāvaṇa! I shall accomplish something that the three worlds, the gods, gandharvas, ṛṣis, cāraṇas and all living creatures shall talk about forever!’

  Rāma calmed his mind and released a hail of arrows against Rāvaṇa who was so terrified that he ran away like a cloud chased by the wind.

  ‘My brother has been struck down by Rāvaṇa’s mighty arrows and he lies here writhing in pain!’ said Rāma. ‘My heart is filled with sorrow. How can I fight when he lies here drenched in blood? What use is life and happiness to me if my beloved brother dies? My courage withers within me in shame, my bow slips from my hands, my arrows fail and my eyes are blinded by tears. My mind is filled with anxiety and I would almost welcome death! I have no interest in fighting, or in my life or even in Sītā when my brother lies dead in battle!’

  ‘Heroic Lakṣmaṇa is not dead!’ said Suṣeṇa, comforting Rāma. ‘His face is still bright and he has a peaceful look. His palms are as red as lotus petals and his eyes are clear. This is not the look of a dead man! Do not grieve, hero, for Lakṣmaṇa is alive! He lies asleep on the earth, his heart beating, breathing steadily.’

  Suṣeṇa turned to Hanumān who stood by his side. ‘Go quickly to the mountain that Jāmbavān told you about earlier, the one with all the medicinal herbs. Bring me the viṣalyakarṇī, the sauvarṇakarṇī and the sanjīvinī that grow on its southern peak. I shall need them all to revive Lakṣmaṇa!’

  Hanumān left immediately for the mountain but when he got there, he could not recognize the herbs. ‘I will take the entire mountain back with me,’ he decided. ‘If I go back without the herbs, the delay may be fatal and my reputation will suffer.’ Hanumān lifted the entire mountain and carried it back to the battlefield. ‘I could not recognize the herb,’ he said to Suṣeṇa. ‘So I brought back the whole mountain!’

  Suṣeṇa praised Hanumān and crushed the herbs. He placed them under Lakṣmaṇa’s nose and in an instant, Lakṣmaṇa, the mighty slayer of his enemies, revived, his wounds healed. He rose from the ground and the monkeys praised Suṣeṇa as Rāma embraced his brother with tears in his eyes.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rāma returned to the battle with Rāvaṇa, deluging him with arrows. Rāvaṇa leapt into another chariot and attacked Rāma with arrows that fell with the force of a thunderbolt.

  The gods and the gandharvas felt that with Rāvaṇa in a chariot and Rāma on the ground, the fight was no longer equal. Indra summoned Mātali, his charioteer, and called for his own chariot which shone like the sun. It was made of gold and covered with tinkling bells and jewels. It was drawn by green horses, adorned with golden ornaments and they, too, shone like the rising sun. It was crowned with a dazzling white battle banner.

  Mātali took the chariot to Rāma on earth and said to him with his palms joined, ‘Indra has sent you this chariot so that you can be victorious. He has also sent you this shining armour, his mighty bow and arrows and this bright spear! Climb into the chariot, hero. I shall be your charioteer. Kill the rākṣasa the way Indra killed the dānavas!’

  Rāma climbed into the chariot and the battle that ensued was so terrifying that it made the hair stand on end. Once again, Rāma and Rāvaṇa called upon all the celestial weapons. When Rāvaṇa employed arrows that turned into hissing snakes, Rāma invoked the powers of Garuḍa, the king of the birds. His arrows, which could take any form they chose, turned into eagles and destroyed Rāvaṇa’s snake arrows.

  Enraged, Rāvaṇa loosed a flood of arrows and struck Mātali. He cut down the battle banner on the chariot with a single arrow and even struck Indra’s horses. The gods, gandharvas, dānavas and cāraṇas were very upset and the monkeys and Vibhīṣaṇa were terribly disheartened. The sea blazed with anger and soared up as if to touch the sky, its waves covered in smoke. The sun turned blue but was hot to the touch. A headless corpse with a comet for a tail was seen. With his ten heads and his twenty arms, Rāvaṇa looked like Mount Mainaka. Rāma found that he could not fit his arrows into his bow. He frowned and in his anger, he seemed to consume his enemies with the fire of his eyes. The earth trembled when it saw Rāma’s wrath. The mountains and trees and animals quaked and the sea was in turmoil. Terror filled the hearts of all creatures and even Rāvaṇa was afraid.

  Rāvaṇa thought for a while, considering which weapon he should use. He chose a spear which was as hard as a diamond. It terrified all that saw it for it was sharp and flew through the air covered with smoke like the doomsday fire. Even the god of death could do nothing to counter it. Rāvaṇa grasped it in the middle, his eyes red with anger, roaring as he did so to encourage the forces that surrounded him. His cry shook the earth and the sky and the four quarters as he hurled the spear at Rāma.

  Rāma greeted the spear with a shower of arrows, but the spear consumed them in mid-air. Rāma was beside himself with anger when he saw his arrows reduced to ashes. He grabbed Indra’s spear that Mātali had brought for him and whirled it around his head. It lit up the sky as it confronted Rāvaṇa’s spear, shattering it to pieces. Then Rāma attacked Rāvaṇa’s horses, piercing them with his arrows. He struck Rāvaṇa on the chest and on the forehead. Wounded in every limb and drenched with blood, Rāvaṇa was in trouble, but his anger continued to burn.

  The two great warriors attacked one another relentlessly with arrows that blotted out the sun. They could barely see each other on the battlefield. Because Rāma was determined to kill his enemy, his courage surged and doubled and he felt sure of all the weapons under his command. The weapons seemed to jump into his hands when he needed them and his confidence added to
his skill. Seeing these auspicious signs, Rāma intensified his assault on Rāvaṇa. He loosed arrows upon him and the monkeys showered the rākṣasa with stones. Rāvaṇa was confused and could not find his weapons. He was filled with despair and even the arrows that he managed to use failed him. Death hovered over him and when his charioteer realized his plight, he slowly moved the chariot out of the range of attack.

  But Rāvaṇa, deluded and impelled by his fate, berated the charioteer, his eyes red with anger. ‘You idiot! You are doing exactly what you want, as if I were defeated or helpless, a coward who has lost his nerve, as if I had forgotten all my magic powers and the use of celestial weapons! Why did you not consult me before you drew the chariot away? You have destroyed my reputation for courage and skill in battle that I built up over long years in a single instant!

  ‘What you just did was not the act of a friend or a well-wisher. I am tempted to believe that you are working for the enemy! If you have any regard for our long relationship and for my prowess, you will turn the chariot around and return to the battlefield!’

  The charioteer obeyed Rāvaṇa’s command and the king of men saw the king of the rākṣasas approaching. Drawn by black horses, terrifying in its splendour, its flags flashing like lightning, producing a storm of arrows like a rain cloud, Rāvaṇa’s chariot rumbled along like thunder. ‘Look, Mātali,’ said Rāma, ‘Rāvaṇa’s chariot comes towards us in an anti-clockwise direction. He is bound to die in battle. I want to destroy this creature. Drive forward without fear. Hold your head high!’

  Mātali took Rāma’s chariot forward, moving clockwise, and covered Rāvaṇa in the cloud of dust that rose from the chariot wheels. Rāma raised Indra’s bow for the attack and the celestial beings gathered to watch the fierce battle between these warriors who were like lions.

  The gods rained blood upon Rāvaṇa’s chariot and it was tossed about by mighty whirlwinds. A huge group of vultures hovered in the air, following his chariot wherever it went. The sky over Lankā turned bright red and the earth under it seemed to be burning. Blazing meteors thundered down from the sky, creating panic among the rākṣasas for they seemed to bode ill for Rāvaṇa. The earth shook wherever Rāvaṇa went and as he reached for his weapons, his fingers seemed to be pulled away by an invisible force. The wind lifted dust into his eyes, blinding him, and lightning struck his forces even though there were no rain clouds in the sky.

  The omens indicating Rāvaṇa’s destruction multiplied even as signs of good fortune for Rāma appeared. Rāma was skilled in the reading of these signs and he was filled with joy to see auspicious signs for his victory. He threw himself into battle with even greater vigour.

  A vicious chariot duel began between Rāma and Rāvaṇa which filled the worlds with fear. The monkeys and the rākṣasas stood absolutely still, holding on to their weapons, and marvelled at the awesome combat between man and rākṣasa. Even though they were armed, they were too engrossed in the encounter to do anything other than watch, the rākṣasas fixing their eyes on Rāvaṇa and the monkeys on Rāma.

  The two warriors read the omens and knew what the outcome would be, that Rāvaṇa would die and Rāma would live—but they fought on relentlessly, summoning up all their energy and courage. Rāvaṇa loosed his arrows at the flag on Rāma’s chariot. They never reached the flag, for the moment they touched the chariot, they fell to the ground. Rāma attacked Rāvaṇa’s flag fiercely, with sharp arrows that blazed with their own splendour and were as hard to endure as a snake bite. They pierced Rāvaṇa’s flag and entered the earth as the flag fell to the ground.

  Rāvaṇa was incensed when he saw his flag crushed and crumpled and he loosed a volley of arrows at Rāma’s shining horses. Though they were hit, the horses did not stumble and were not more affected than if they had been assaulted with lotus stalks. Rāvaṇa grew angrier and, using his magic powers, he made thousands of arrows and clubs and spears, maces, discuses, mountains, trees and rocks rain down upon his enemy. The shower of weapons created a terrible din as they flew past Rāma and fell upon the monkey army.

  The battle of the arrows went on and they locked together in the air so that is seemed as if a new, bright sky had been formed. Not a single arrow missed its mark as they struck each other and fell to the ground.

  Monkeys and rākṣasas and other beings continued to watch as the chariots pursued each other, each determined to destroy the other. They executed complex manouevres as each tried to gain the upper hand. Rāma and Rāvaṇa were equally skilled and swift as they advanced and retreated and circled each other. They even faced each other head on, their yokes touching, their horses nose to nose, their flags fluttering against each other. Rāma shot four sharp arrows from his bow and pushed Rāvaṇa’s horses back. Rāvaṇa retaliated with a storm of arrows that struck Rāma. But Rāma felt no pain and did not lose heart.

  Then, Rāvaṇa struck Indra’s charioteer Mātali all over his body but Mātali did not falter. Rāma was more enraged by the attack on Mātali than he was at being hit himself and he loosed hundreds and thousands of arrows against Rāvaṇa. The seven seas erupted with the hail of weapons that followed, their turbulence making the submarine creatures suffer terribly. The earth with its forests and mountains trembled, the sun dimmed and the wind died down. The gods, gandharvas, siddhas, great ṛṣis, the kinnaras and the uragas grew worried. ‘May all be well with the cows and the brahmins and may the worlds last for ever. May Rāma be victorious!’ they muttered.

  Then Rāma, the augmenter of his family’s fame, fitted his sharpest arrow, deadly as a poisonous snake, into his bow and cut off Rāvaṇa’s head with its glittering earrings. The three worlds watched as the head fell to the ground. But immediately, another one exactly like it grew in its place. Rāma’s swift hands quickly severed that head as well but another grew to replace it. One hundred magnificent heads were cut off in this fashion but there seemed to be no end to Rāvaṇa’s life.

  Rama still had many arrows left but he wondered, ‘These arrows killed Mārīca, Khara, Dūṣaṇa, Virādha and Kabandha. They have never failed me in combat before. Why are they so ineffective against Rāvaṇa?’ He continued to shower Rāvaṇa with arrows and Rāvaṇa fought back from his chariot with all his weapons. The gods and celestial beings watched this encounter that went on and on. Not for day or night, nor even for an hour or a moment did Rāma and Rāvaṇa stop fighting.

  ‘Why do you counter Rāvaṇa’s attack as if you don’t know what to do?’ asked Mātali. ‘Use Brahmā’s weapon against him. His hour of death has arrived!’ he prompted.

  Rāma chose a gleaming arrow that hissed like a snake. The arrow was a gift from Brahmā and had been given to Rāma by the great sage Agastya. Long ago, Brahmā had created it for Indra, for the conquest of the three worlds. The wind god was in its feathers, the sun and fire in its head. Its shaft had the essence of the skies and it was as heavy as the mountains Meru and Mandara. It was decorated with gold and shone with splendour. Bright as the sun, it contained the combined energies of all beings. Dark as the smoke from the doomsday fire and as deadly as a serpent, the arrow could destroy all the elephants, horses and chariots of the enemy. It had pierced gates and towers and walls, even mountains. Covered with the blood of all kinds of creatures, the arrow was truly terrifying to behold. Hard as diamond, it ripped through entire armies with a hiss, terrifying all those that heard it. The arrow was death incarnate and provided food for vultures, jackals, ghouls and other carrion eaters on the battlefield with unfailing certainty. Decorated with Garuḍa’s multi-coloured feathers, the arrow brought joy to the monkeys and death to the rākṣasas.

  Mighty Rāma fitted that incomparable arrow, which was about to destroy the menace to the Ikṣvākus, into his magnificent bow. He muttered the prescribed mantras over the arrow, drew his bow to the fullest and aimed the arrow at Rāvaṇa’s vitals. The arrow, which could not be opposed any more than death, was loosed with as much force as Indra might loose his thunderbolt. It struck Rā
vaṇa in the chest and pierced his heart. It took Rāvaṇa’s life as it plunged into the earth and then, still drenched in blood, it came quickly back into its quiver.

  Rāvaṇa’s bow and arrow slipped from his hands and the king of the rākṣasas who had befuddled the world with his strength and speed, tumbled out of his chariot and fell to the ground. The rākṣasas saw him fall and scattered in all directions. And the monkeys, who fought with trees for Rāma’ sake, chased them, laughing with joy. The rākṣasas ran back to Lankā with tears streaming down their faces. The monkeys proclaimed Rāvaṇa’s death and Rāma’s victory with glee. The sky resounded with the beating of drums and a perfumed breeze wafted through, soothing everyone.

  Rare and beautiful flowers rained down on Rāma’s chariot and the gods shouted ‘Marvellous!’ ‘Wonderful!’ from the skies. The gods and celestial beings were delighted with Rāvaṇa’s death for he had tormented the worlds for a long time. The sky and the four quarters cleared, the earth stood still, the sun shone bright and steady and the gods were at peace. Sugrīva, Vibhīṣaṇa, Lakṣmaṇa and other well-wishers gathered around Rāma and they praised and honoured him with joy in their hearts. Now that Rāma had kept his promise and killed the enemy, he shone on the battlefield, surrounded by his own people as Indra is surrounded by the gods.

  As the rākṣasī women wept for Rāvaṇa, Mandodarī, his senior wife and most beloved queen, gazed sadly at her dead husband, the mighty rākṣasa whose feats surpassed the imagination, who had been killed by Rāma.