The Ramayana (101 page)

“Danda arrived at the hermitage, built on a lake's sylvan shore, which was like a bit of Brahmaloka fallen onto the earth. Under the glimmering trees, Danda saw a young woman, the very sight of whom made his heart stop still. She was another vision, she was utterly desirable; and he could see her naked body through the diaphanous garment she wore in this place where no man usually set foot.

“Danda accosted her, and said, ‘Lovely one, who are you? Whose daughter? Oh, I want you!'

“As he approached her, his arms outstretched, she shrank from him and replied with dignity, ‘I am Araja and I am Bhargava's eldest daughter. My father is your guru. Don't touch me, Kshatriya; I am my father's ward. If what you feel for me is more than mere lust, then ask my father for my hand in marriage and I shall be yours.'

“But she saw the look in his eyes, and said again, in some panic now, ‘If you force me, Danda, Sukra Deva's anger will burn you and your kingdom to a crisp.'

“Danda folded his hands and raised them above his head. He said, ‘If I cannot have you at once, I shall die anyway. I beg you, give yourself to me willingly. For no fear, of death or of any sin, will stop me from having you.'

“She stepped back from him. But he was on her in a flash, and forcing her down onto the soft grass with irresistible strength, he thrust himself into that virgin girl, like fire. She screamed in fear and pain. But he enjoyed her roughly, and even as she lay numb with shock, a crimson stain spreading under her, he rose and left that asrama.

“After a long time, Araja stumbled to her father's kutila and stood sobbing at its door. She stood waiting for her father, who was like a God. Sukra Bhargava came back to his asrama with a knot of his disciples, and heard what had happened. He saw his daughter's agony and her shame, as blood and the kshatriya's violent seed between her fair thighs. Sukra's eyes turned the color of the sunset.

“He cried, ‘In seven days this king, and all his sons and his army, shall die. For a hundred yojanas around his city, all life shall be consumed by a rain of fire and death shall rule this sinner's kingdom. All of you must leave this asrama and go to the edge of these lands. No life will stir here in seven days'

“He turned to his daughter and said, ‘My child, you will live here beside this lake, and the birds and beasts who come to be near you in the night shall stay with you. The rain of flames will not fall for a yojana around this asrama, or on this lake.'

“Araja bowed her head, and murmured, ‘As you will.'

“Sukra Deva left that hermitage and his daughter, and went away to a secret place to perform tapasya for expiation from whatever sin it was that had brought down such terrible punishment on him and his child. In seven days the sky grew as dark as the end of time, and a hissing, spitting deluge of flames fell out of it and devoured Danda, his clan, all his people, his wonderful city, and the land around it, for a hundred yojanas in every direction. The earth was charred; no life of any kind stirred upon it any more. Everywhere there were only ashes to be seen, stretching away interminably.

“Later, a dark and fearsome forest grew up here and only the creatures of night inhabited it: pisachas, rakshasas, and other evil beings. And you know that when the time of the curse drew near its end, I wandered down into this vana with the seeds of the sacred trees of Himavan in my hands, and I sat here in dhyana until most of the curse was removed, and the sun and the wind and the natural rain came again to the cursed jungle named Dandaka after King Danda.

“Of course, Rama, it was only when your feet touched this ground, during your exile, that the curse vanished entirely and this earth was blessed again.”

Agastya said, “Rama, the waters of this lake are sacred. Bathe in our lake this evening, and then eat with us.”

Rama went down to the lake, which was touched with the dying colors of the setting sun. He first took up a palmful of the precious water and drank it reverently. He entered the lake and bathed in it. He emerged feeling a new vitality and purity course through his body and his spirit.

Rama came back to Agastya's asrama and ate a frugal, tasty meal of fine, husked rice, and the most delicious vegetables, among them a redder radish than any he had ever seen, which he relished especially. Late into the night, under a sky full of fateful stars, the king and the hermit sat talking, until Agastya told Rama to sleep and retired himself.

In the morning, as the sun rose, Rama came and prostrated himself before the muni. “Give me leave, Mahamuni, I must return to Ayodhya. I will come to see you again and have your blessing once more, to make myself pure.”

Laying his ageless palms on the king's head, Agastya said, “You are the purifier of this earth. Your presence in the world blesses her for a thousand generations of men. The Lord Indra worships you, Rama; you are the refuge and the savior of this world.”

*   *   *

Rama took the padadhuli from Agastya's feet. He climbed into the pushpaka vimana and flashed away, back to Ayodhya. In his city, in his palace courtyard, he said to the magical ship, “Go back to Kubera now, my friend, and I will call you when I need you again.”

Rama went into his palace, his lonely royal apartment, and said to a guard there, “Go and fetch Lakshmana and Bharata to me.”

They came, and Rama hugged them. He said softly, his eyes shining with a new light, “I want to build the bridge of dharma in our land: the bridge that will never fall. My brothers, with both of you beside me, I want to perform the rajasuya yagna to purify me of the sin of killing the sudra. Tell me what you think.”

Bharata folded his hands, and said, “All this earth and all fame have their source in you; you are the highest dharma. Every king of the earth looks up to you as the Devas do to Brahma. They look up to you as sons to their father. Rama, if a king like you undertakes the rajasuya, if a king like you sheds the blood of other kshatriyas and brings grief to their families, will that be dharma?

“If Rama destroys the peace of the earth, a tide of wrath will rise and sweep us all away. All the kshatriyas of the earth are already loyal to you, Rama; you must not challenge them in war.”

Rama took Bharata's hand and said, “How wisely you speak, my brother! What you say is dharma, indeed. No, I will not perform the rajasuya. I will not provoke the kings of the earth, demean them, or force them to protect their honor in war. The wise never do anything that brings grief to the world. What the young say must be followed if they speak wisely. You are right, Bharata, I will do as you say.”

Then Lakshmana said, “Perform the aswamedha instead, Rama. The yagna is the purifier of all the wise; let it be yours as well. You know how Indra himself was cleansed of the sin of Brahmahatya, when he performed the aswamedha yagna.”

Rama said with a smile, “Remind us of it again, Lakshmana.”

Lakshmana said keenly, “In the eldest days, Diti had a son called Vritra. Vritra was an Asura, a hundred yojanas tall. He ruled the earth, once, with dharma and compassion. And during his reign, Bhumi Devi yielded the most abundant flowers, fruit, and roots, ever. With dharma, Vritrasura's kingdom flourished.

“Then, that great and pious demon thought to himself, ‘Only tapasya yields the highest joy. Every other pleasure is illusory.'

“He entrusted his kingdom to his eldest son, Madhureswara, and sat in a truly searing tapasya upon the mountain. While Vritra performed his penance, Indra grew afraid in Devaloka. Indra went to Vishnu and said, ‘Already, I cannot subdue Vritrasura. If his tapasya continues, he will become Lord of the three worlds and of every creature in them. Precious Hari, how do you allow this Asura to flourish? It is because he has your blessing that no one can curb him. I beg you, kill this demon; only you can any more.'”

Lakshmana paused, and he was flushed with happiness at narrating the timeless legend. Rama said indulgently, “And how did Vritra die?”

“All the Devas echoed Indra's misery, and Vishnu said to them, ‘It is true that once Vritra had my blessing, and that was for your own welfare, O Devas, to make you humble. But now his time has come. I will make myself three, so Indra can kill the Asura. One part of me will enter Indra himself; another shall infuse his vajra; and the third, the very earth. Vritrasura, master of the worlds, shall die.'

“The Devas bowed low before Mahavishnu and they went to have a final reckoning with the demon. They found Vritra at his tapasya, which was so intense it seemed he would drink down all creation into his spirit. His body seemed like a golden mountain, on fire. The Devas looked at him and shivered. They whispered among themselves, ‘How will we kill this awesome one?'

“But, murmuring a prayer to Vishnu, Indra cast his vajra at the meditating Asura. The thunderbolt of a thousand joints, charged with Vishnu's power, struck Vritrasura's great head from its neck, and it fell upon the earth like the pralaya. Indra fled from there in terror, to the ends of the world, sobbing; for his sin of killing a brahmana pursued him in a dreadful form of flames. Indra transformed himself into a water snake and hid in the Manasarovara, in the stem of a lotus. He dared not emerge, he dared not stir, and Devaloka had no ruler.

“Now Agni and the other Devas sat in a fervid tapasya to Mahavishnu. They said again and again, ‘You are the Primal Person, the First One, Un-born, omnipotent, the father of us all, the savior of us all: save our king, O Vishnu; his Brahmahatya pursues him relentlessly and even we do not know where he has hidden himself.'

“Vishnu said to the Devas, ‘You must perform the aswamedha yagna. It is the only way to save the thousand-eyed one from his sin.'

“Vishnu himself performed the horse sacrifice along with the Devas. At the end of the solemn yagna, the Brahmahatya, who had been pursuing Indra so remorselessly, came before blue Vishnu, and pleaded, ‘I beg you, Lord of Gods, give me sanctuary. Your yagna scathes me and I fear for my life.'

“Vishnu said to the spirit of the Brahmahatya, ‘Divide yourself in four, O Spirit, and live in four places.'

“And one amsa of the hatya dwelt in the world, for four months of the year, the monsoon, to break the pride of sinners. Its second part dwelt in the earth. Its third possessed young women, who were arrogant of their beauty, for three nights. And its last and fourth part possessed and tormented murderers, especially the killers of brahmanas.

“Indra was rid of that scorching, ineluctable spirit, and returned to assume his throne that the worlds worship, in Amravati, the deathless city. Swarga, Bhumi, and Patala grew calm again; the spirit of chaos that had verged on creation disappeared.”

Lakshmana paused and slowly drew in a deep breath. He was a self-conscious storyteller, and, blushing slightly, concluded with some solemnity, “Rama, that is how powerful the aswamedha yagna is. It took his dreadful sin from Indra, who had killed Vritrasura when he sat in dhyana. It will certainly wash the sin of killing Sambuka from you. Perform the sacrifice of the horse, my lord: all our salvations depend on it.”

 

37. The tale of Ila

Rama laughed softly when Lakshmana finished his earnestly told tale. The king ruffled his brother's hair like a boy's, and said, “Have you heard the story of Ila?”

Lakshmana said eagerly, “No, Rama. Who was she?”

Rama began, “In the eldest days, the Prajapati Kardama was king of Bahlika. He had conquered all the earth and ruled his people as if they were his own children. Kardama had honor among both Devas and Daityas, and the nagas, rakshasas, gandharvas, and even the secretive yakshas revered that king of dharma.

“Once, Kardama went hunting in the forest. Drunk with bloodlust, he killed thousands of innocent creatures in the jungle he had entered, without favor for species, age, sex, or size. Their screams rang under the sorrowing trees. Spraying the jungle with blood, Kardama arrived in its heart, the very place where once Siva's son Karttikeya had been born.

“It happened that Siva himself was in that jungle's heart, making love to Parvati. To please her, Siva had assumed a woman's form and had come with her sakhis. They now sat together beside a hill stream that chatted its way through the deep vana. Uma sat on Siva's lap, and she wore not a stitch upon her perfect body. And by Siva's power, so Uma would not be seen naked by any male creature, every beast, bird, and even the plants of that impenetrable forest had become female, even the trees.

“Blood on his hands, steamy from his hunt, Kardama staggered into the glade where Parvati sat in her lord's lap, her arms twined around his neck like vines. Instantly, the king, all his soldiers, and the horses they rode were transformed: they became women and mares. Kardama felt the change come over him. He knew Siva had done this, and he trembled.

“Kardama and his men petitioned the Lord, the blue-throated, serpent-adorned Mahadeva. They came and fell at his feet. Siva said to the son of the Prajapati, ‘Arise, Rajarishi, and ask me for any boon, except your manhood.'

“Kardama remained mute; he asked for nothing. Then he remembered Uma always bestowed one half of every boon that Siva granted. Kardama came sobbing, as a woman, before the mountain's daughter, and begged her, ‘Mother of worlds, bless me. Make me a man again.'

“Parvati laid her palm on Kardama's head in blessing. The Devi said, ‘Only half of every boon is mine to bestow. So be a man for half your life.'

“Kardama cried in delight, ‘Anuttamaa, Peerless One, let me be a man for one month and a woman for the next.'

“Uma said, ‘So be it. And when you are a man, you shall not remember your womanhood; as, when you are a woman, you shall have no memory that you were a man. When you are a woman, Kardama, you will be known as Ila.'

“And Siva and Uma vanished from there.”

Lakshmana asked breathlessly, “And how did Kardama live, Rama? When he was a king, and then when he was a woman? How did he live his life?”