‘Do you not trust me, Mandodari?’ he asked her, fearful that she would retract her consent. ‘Look at my broad shoulders, my potent weapons. See how I control the very elements.’ With one raised arm, he sent Surya plunging into the sea and brought up a brilliant moon in his stead. And in a move to silence his doubters, he summoned a fierce wind to lift Hema into the air.
‘No, no!’ Mandodari’s voice rose in fear. ‘Do not harm my parents who are merely concerned for my well-being.’
The wind set the apsara gently on the ground again while Ravana looked intently at his chosen one, waiting for her answer. Mandodari’s thoughts were in a whirl still. On one side were her parents, who cared for her and wished her nothing but happiness. Their fears were real, based as they were on a dire prophecy. However, on the other side was her love for Ravana that had raged within her unabated for as long as she could remember. She was impatient to join him in the glorious life that he promised.
Why should she not seize her happiness with both hands? What was the alternative? A dispirited, miserable life with another groom chosen by her parents . . . She could not bear that.
‘I will marry you, Lankeshwara, though the gods should stop me. Fate has not brought us together again only to tear us apart. Together, let us challenge destiny!’ she said firmly.
Ravana’s joy leapt out at her like a warm flame, touching her body with its exuberance. Her parents appeared to be slowly reconciling themselves to her decision. They began to make preparations for the wedding. Mayasura conjured up a magical canopy in the forest and the ceremony was performed by the ascetics of the forest. The two had eyes only for each other and felt no regret that their only guests were the spotted deer and the chirping birds.
Soon, the newlyweds took their leave of her parents, with Ravana summoning his pushpaka vimana to carry his bride to his island kingdom. The sight of the magnificent aerial chariot left the bride spellbound, for it was as high as a small hill and was festooned with jewels and silver bells that tinkled melodiously as it flashed across the skies.
‘My vimana shines like the sun during the day and like a brilliant moon at night,’ said Ravana proudly as he noticed her wondering gaze. ‘It is as fleet as my thoughts and can travel unhindered through heaven, earth and the netherworld.’
The mystic craft flew so swiftly that the hills and vales below were reduced to a blur, for the rakshasa was eager to take his bride home. The emerald island of Lanka appeared below them, with its gleaming turrets and jewelled mansions. His courtiers and his other queens hurried to greet their emperor when they landed smoothly within the walls of his vast palace. But they were able to catch only a quick glimpse of the beauteous Mandodari before Ravana carried her into his inner chambers.
The new queen looked in amazement at the gold walls, the windows framed with diamonds and the floors of jade. Many beautiful women waited to serve him, their eyes alight with passion. They pined for his touch, for his prowess in bed was legendary and he had mastered the sixty-four ways of the Kamashastra. But today, he had no eyes for anyone but Mandodari and dismissed them with a snap of his fingers.
The king wooed Mandodari with exquisite patience and skill, awakening her desire slowly until it blazed fierce and strong. He clasped her by her waist, brushed a kiss on her petal-soft lips, stroked gently down her arm and watched as she shivered and sighed. He teased her with his lips and his many hands, nibbled on her smooth cheeks and made her moan in pleasure and pain. Soon, she too began to caress him with her soft hands and fragrant lips.
Days passed and months while the two were locked together in a sensual journey, completely lost to the world. He dressed her in shimmering silks only to undress her again in haste so that he could glory in her perfumed skin and her lush body. They lay entwined in green meadows, in hidden caves and on the tops of mountains from where they could view his boundless domain. They wandered in a haze past crystal pools and exotic gardens where songbirds chorused a divine symphony. They traversed scented forests on the back of the mighty, four-tusked Airavata, the elephant that Ravana had seized from Indra. The Lankapati never tired of bringing his queen new gifts—Rati’s radiant earrings or Indrani’s necklace of rubies.
Mandodari garlanded him with wild jasmine and yellow kadamba flowers, and inflamed him with her lovelorn glances and youthful desire. The air was heavy with the perfume of sandal and aloe, and peacocks danced amidst the fragrant clouds. It appeared as if the world had been newly created to celebrate their union and that all its creatures were caught up in the ecstasy of love.
The devas on high watched and marvelled that a rakshasa so fierce could be so tender. Would the power of love tame and transform the master of darkness? Or would his passion shrivel up and die as his heart was so cruel and lustful?
The lord of Vaikunta looked down at them all, deva and demon, and smiled.
4
Folly
Ravana found that the more he indulged his passion for his lissom queen, the more he desired her. He observed Mandodari raptly as she combed her long, rippling tresses and coloured her lips with the juice of red berries. He lurked behind the lavender tree with its emerald leaves and purple blossoms to watch her bathe in a silvery stream. At times, he stayed away only so that he could enjoy the sight of her pining for him, unable to eat or sleep. He laughed as he watched her cool her heated senses with a jewelled fan or whisper her love for him in the ears of the hamsa bird. She fed golden corn to a handsome black buck that she called her ‘Beloved rakshasa’. And when he finally returned to her like a tempest, they came together in an explosion of delight.
Loathe to be parted from her, Ravana had her sit beside him in court, where she showed that she was as loyal as she was loving, and as intelligent as she was giving. Her devotion to the gods and her king was unfailing, and she did everything she could to ensure that his life was peaceful and blessed.
‘We have never seen him so content,’ said the courtiers who had often faced his blistering rage. ‘His ambition seems to have been curbed by his passion for his queen.’
The alluring women in his harem were distraught and watched Mandodari with jealous eyes. ‘The king ignores us all, lost in the charms of his new wife,’ they whispered. ‘Is she a sorceress that she has cast such a powerful spell on him?’
‘Be careful, my queen,’ said Mandodari’s devoted maid to her one day. ‘His wives plot your downfall and will stop at nothing to win him back.’
Mandodari nodded, knowing that this girl Kumuda was the only one she could trust in a palace where loyalties shifted every day. She had rescued the orphaned girl one day and brought her to the palace with her. Kumuda had repaid her handsomely since then, dedicating herself completely to her well-being.
Realizing that Ravana’s insatiable urge to dominate and conquer new lands led him to sinful acts, Mandodari invented a war game to occupy him. It came to be known as Chaturanga for it featured four kinds of forces: elephants, horses, chariots and foot soldiers. She also attempted to gradually reshape his brutal nature with tender words. She told him that he had been blessed with many hands so that he could help people, and that his ten heads were meant to guide him on the right path.
However, this was not easy to achieve as Ravana was naturally vain and aggressive. One day, when he and Mandodari were worshipping Shiva by the river Narmada, the waters rose suddenly and violently and carried away his offerings. Ravana sprang up in wrath and ordered his men to find out what was behind the disturbance.
‘King Kartaviryarjuna is bathing with his wives downstream, my king,’ they said fearfully when they returned, knowing how Ravana would react. ‘He has blocked the river with his thousand arms so as to make an immense pond for his queens to play in.’
‘A thousand arms!’ Ravana exclaimed, furious that someone should challenge his own might.
‘The sages say that Kartavirya has been blessed by Dattatreya, who embodies the Trimurti, and that none but Vishnu can defeat him’ said Mandodari in a soft voice.
‘I will soon expose their foolishness!’ roared Ravana. ‘A thousand arms or ten thousand—Kartavirya will pay the price for disrupting my prayers. Am I not the mightiest of kings, blessed by the great Shiva?’
‘Your boon protects you from the devas and the demons, not from a human, my love,’ Mandodari reminded him, fearing for his safety.
‘A human king pitting himself against the emperor of emperors?’ shouted Ravana, angry that his wife doubted his prowess. ‘Your words prove that women lack judgement, Mandodari. You shudder at your own shadow and then bring your foolish fears to me.’
Mandodari said nothing more, realizing that Ravana would not stop now. He sallied forth in his vimana against his foe and roared a challenge. ‘Kartaviryarjuna! You parade your powers before your wives by restraining a river that cannot fight back. Fight with me instead—paltry human!’
Kartavirya untangled himself slowly from the embrace of his wives and smiled mockingly at his challenger. ‘Ravana! Come down from your vimana so that I can answer,’ he said.
Bristling at his enemy’s insolence, Ravana jumped down on earth and came forward with his mace in his hands. His foe picked up his own mace and charged at him.
The maces met in mid-air and both kings strained their formidable muscles to overpower the enemy. Kartavirya managed to deal a quick blow that knocked Ravana off his feet. But the rakshasa quickly recovered and hurled his mace at his enemy’s chest, making him stagger on his feet. The two took up other fearsome weapons and continued the fight. Kartavirya’s queens watched in fear as the battle continued through the day and the night with neither able to prevail. They fought with swords and iron clubs, with boulders and trees, until both of them were bleeding from a hundred wounds. Kartavirya expanded his form to dominate the earth and the sky, but Ravana roared in defiance and enlarged his own body to match his foe’s. Angry that Ravana had dared to challenge him before his wives, Kartavirya resolved to put an end to the battle. He used his thousand arms at the same time to hurl spears, lances, axes, cudgels and spiked clubs at Ravana. When the rakshasa was fully engaged in blocking this fusillade, Kartavirya bludgeoned him to the ground.
The Lankapati sank to the ground in a swoon and woke up hours later—in his foe’s dungeon. What a devastating blow this was! What would Mandodari think of his defeat, especially when she had warned him not to attack Kartavirya? The wound to Ravana’s ego was greater than that to his body. He strained at the iron chains holding him captive and roared in wrath. His only hope was that his troops would have set out to battle the king of the Haiheyas.
Rescue came to him, however, from an unexpected direction. A few days after the encounter, Kartavirya’s capital Mahishmati received a great visitor—Sage Pulastya, Ravana’s grandfather.
Kartavirya bowed low to the sage and offered him a reverent welcome. Pulastya put forth his request. ‘O Kartavirya! You are indeed unequalled in prowess for you have defeated my grandson whose dominion extends to the heavens. Ravana has now learned his lesson and will never oppose you again. Please free him from your prison, noble king,’ he said.
The king of the Haiheyas acceded graciously, telling the sage, ‘Mahishmati is blessed by your visit, Wise One, but you need not have gone to all this trouble. I will honour your slightest wish and a mere message from you in future will suffice to make me obey.’
The chastened Ravana was set free at once. The two kings clasped hands in friendship before the sage, swearing never to attack each other again. The Lankapati returned to his capital where Mandodari soothed him with her attentions and secretly hoped that his aggressive tendencies would be curbed by this debacle. She also worshipped the gods fervently, hoping that her piety would lighten the burden of her husband’s karma.
‘O Parvati!’ she prayed. ‘Your exalted love transformed Shiva from an ascetic into a loving husband and father. He honoured your devotion by making you half of himself so that the world could worship you both together. I pray that my love too may change my lord and turn him firmly towards the righteous path. Divine mother, bless me with powerful sons so that I may satisfy my husband’s desire.’
That night, Mandodari was startled awake by a nightmare. She heard again the heavenly voice that had predicted doom if Ravana should marry her. Was this a reminder that she herself would be the cause of his downfall? She tossed and turned, praying that she should never give birth to a daughter. Her restlessness awakened Ravana who soothed her with his tender embrace.
‘What is it you fear, my love?’ he asked her, but she remained silent. ‘What can assail the queen of the indomitable Lankeshwara? I will never allow anyone to harm you, precious one. And you in turn must shield me with your love and your purity.’
Mandodari let go of her fears for the moment. Indeed, was she a frog still that she should tremble so? Her husband was blessed by Shiva and ruled the planets that determined destiny. No harm could ever touch them.
‘Tell me that you love me,’ she pleaded then. And he did so, with his words and caresses. ‘There is no place in my heart for any woman but you,’ he said.
Mandodari was soon with child and was greatly relieved when the royal astrologer said that the offspring would be a boy. Ravana ordered the planets to take positions in the most auspicious houses on his son’s birth chart, thereby ensuring that he was immune to all dangers. Knowing that this would make the rakshasa clan invulnerable and extend their evil reign forever, Shanideva extended his leg into the next house at the exact moment that the child was born. An angry Ravana punished Shanideva by maiming his foot, but could do nothing to alter his son’s fate.
Ravana named the newborn Meghanada, because his voice was loud like thunder. The child grew rapidly as was natural among the rakshasas. He trained rigorously under the asura guru Shukracharya to master the astras and the dark arts of sorcery. Not satisfied with that, he embarked on severe penances to the gods to acquire their blessings. Pleased with his ardour, Agni blessed him with the power to turn invisible and gifted him an invincible chariot drawn by tigers. Brahma gave him his most powerful weapons. Armed with these, Prince Meghanada arrived at the gates of Amaravati to challenge Indra to battle. Indra was unable to kill him even with his thunderbolt, and the other devas fled before the prince. Meghanada bound the celestial king with his occult power and dragged him through the streets of Lanka.
‘Glorious son, you will henceforth be known as Indrajit, the conqueror of Indra!’ exclaimed his proud father.
Ravana had two more sons with Mandodari—Atikaya and Aksha. He had many sons from his other wives as well, but his dream of having a daughter did not come true. Unused to being deprived of anything, Ravana began to obsess about what he perceived as a void in his life.
‘I have everything I desire,’ he said to Mandodari. ‘Everything except a daughter.’
‘Why crave a daughter who will cause your death, my lord?’ asked Mandodari, her face clouding over at the mere thought.
‘Do you think I live in fear of a voice?’ asked Ravana. ‘The reality is that I am eager for a new challenge, as my shoulders grow weak with no enemy to fight against.’
Ravana studied astrological charts over the next few days, consulted his priests and finally decided to perform a yagna that would result in the birth of a daughter. Brahma would not be able to turn down his request when he had Mandodari beside him, for her piety and purity were unmatched on earth.
To his shock, however, when he spoke to Mandodari, she refused to join him in the sacrifice. ‘The fear of the prophecy keeps me awake most nights,’ she said to him. ‘How can I pray for a daughter, when it means that I could lose you, my lord? Ask me for anything but not this, I beg you.’
Ravana was stunned for a moment. Then he flew into a rage. He sprang to his feet and hurled the heavy throne he had been seated on at the mirror in her chamber, splintering it into a thousand shards. Angry still, he drew out his sword and slashed at the canopy over her bed, bringing it down with a crash. Her maids came running, sa
w his contorted face and fled. Kumuda alone stood watching from the doorway, kneading her hands in distress.
Mandodari retreated to a corner of her chamber, looking at Ravana with shocked eyes. She had never seen his rage at such close quarters and that too directed at her. Tears ran down her cheeks as her mind raced to find a way to placate him. Should she capitulate? What if her refusal should cost her his love? How would she survive?
Ravana attacked her then with violent words. ‘Have you forgotten your duty to me as a wife and as a subject?’ he railed. ‘Do you not know that the punishment for defying the lord of the three realms is torture and death?’
Mandodari attempted to explain that her refusal sprang from love and not from disrespect. But he silenced her with an angry roar. Was this why he had married her, in order to add another slave in his harem? Was it not her duty to counsel him when he chose a disastrous path? If this was what he expected of her, it would be better if he ended her life that very day. She was not willing to agree with him on everything and he owed it to their love to at least listen when she spoke. She looked up at him, her face set in grim resolve.
Thwarted in his desire, enraged at her unaccustomed defiance, yet unable to lay violent hands on her, Ravana finally said, ‘If you will not give me a daughter, there are many who will. I will find one as pure and lovely as you are, if not better.’ He stormed out of her presence, leaving her chamber and her mind in shambles.
His other wives were delighted when they heard of their argument. ‘You are no ordinary man, but the king of kings, with many noble princesses and apsaras as your queens,’ said one of them. ‘Choose one of us and we will gladly accept the honour to perform the yagna by your side.’
‘Banish Mandodari who has shown herself to be stubborn and unworthy of your love, great emperor,’ said another jealous wife.
Prem Purana Page 12
