The Ramayana (59 page)

Rama turned to the other vanaras who had come to him, Hanuman among them. “You have heard Sugriva. But in a situation like ours, there are often more opinions than one. I would like to hear them all before we decide what we should do about the rakshasas in the sky.”

Angada raised his hand to speak. When Rama smiled and nodded at him, the prince said, “At first, the rakshasa must be treated with suspicion. If there is even the slightest doubt about his sincerity, let him be killed. But if after we examine his motives and watch him carefully, we are satisfied that he is true, let him be welcomed to our side.”

Neela spoke and Dwividha, Sugriva again, and some others. Though each reached his conclusion by different arguments, they all agreed Vibheeshana was not to be trusted. Only Hanuman was silent. Rama turned to him and said, “How is it you voice no opinion, Hanuman? You have been in Lanka.”

Hanuman said, “All of you are as wise as Brihaspati himself. But if you truly want to hear what I think, I will tell you: not to appear wiser than anyone, but because this is how I feel. Someone says a spy of our own should be sent to Vibheeshana. I don't agree. Someone else says that he has not observed the conventions of such a meeting. But I should think this goes in Vibheeshana's favor. His decision to come out here appears to have been a hard one; at first he tried to convince his brother of the error of his ways. Just think, would it not have been easier for him to agree with whatever Ravana did, since he is the king?”

A few vanaras began to interrupt. But Hanuman held up a hand, and continued, “Besides, I have seen Vibheeshana in Ravana's sabha. What I heard him say there inclines me to believe what he tells us. When Ravana wanted to have me killed, it was Vibheeshana who said a messenger should never be punished with death. Only then did Ravana decide to fire my tail and parade me through Lanka. I saw Vibheeshana close in Lanka, and I felt his face was honest and kindly.

“If you take my word for it, this rakshasa is neither deceitful nor cunning. He speaks his mind and deals in truth. We should take him for what he says he is. He is no spy, but has made a very hard choice: he chose the way of dharma over his own blood. Think of it another way. If he is honest, as I say he is, how difficult it must have been for him to come here, not knowing how we would receive him. Rama, he has risked everything to come to you in faith. This is the way I look at it.”

Rama said quietly, “Vibheeshana comes to me with love and I must welcome him.”

But Sugriva cried, “Rama, he is a rakshasa! He has abandoned his own brother.”

A smile hovered on Rama's lips. He turned to Lakshmana and said, “Noble souls may be born among rakshasas as well. I think we must take Vibheeshana at his word. And then, not everyone is blessed with a Bharata or a Lakshmana for a brother.”

Sugriva said, “You are too trusting. Vibheeshana is Ravana's spy, sent here cunningly. We must go into war with care; caution demands we kill the rakshasa.”

But Rama smiled, “What does it matter if he is a spy? He can do me no harm even if he means to. Dear, loyal Sugriva, not all the rakshasas in the world can harm me, let alone one who comes to me for refuge. The way of dharma is clear on this: no one who comes for sanctuary should ever be turned away. If it were Ravana who came to me, I would give him a place in my heart. Go, my friend, and bring Vibheeshana to me.”

Rama's tone was firm. Sugriva walked around in a circle. He pondered; he scratched himself and he frowned. He considered the matter at hand from every angle, talking to himself as he did. Then his frown cleared and, with a smile, the vanara king cried, “You may be right, after all. Perhaps he does come in good faith. Let us meet him. Let him be one of us, until he proves otherwise.”

Sugriva strode out to where Vibheeshana and his four followers were still poised in the sky. He called up to the rakshasas, “Rama welcomes you; he grants you refuge.”

Vibheeshana laughed in delight. In a flash, he and his friends had flown down to the wet sand beside the sea. Sugriva brought him before Rama. With no hesitation, not even bothering to look into the dark prince's face, Ravana's brother cried, “My Lord!” and prostrated himself at Rama's feet.

Standing up, and with eyes only for Rama, Vibheeshana said, “My Lord, I am your servant from now. I have left everything I have in Lanka and come to your feet. Ravana has strayed from dharma, and he does not want to return to it. Otherwise, he should have stood here before you himself and begged your forgiveness. I have left my friends and my family behind, Rama. From now on, you are everything to me. My life belongs to you, my fate is in your hands. My joys and sorrows are yours to bestow; my life is yours to take.”

Rama stared at him for just a moment, then his face softened in a smile. He laid his hand gently, in acceptance, in blessing, on the good rakshasa's head.

 

6. Suka

Rama raised Vibheeshana up. The rakshasa was so moved that he wept through his smiles. Rama said, “First of all, tell me about your brother, whom I must face in battle. Who will know him better than you?”

Rama glanced quickly at Sugriva when he said this. The vanaras around them fell hushed. How much would the rakshasa tell? Would he hesitate? Understanding at once that this was a test of his sincerity, Vibheeshana began to relate everything he knew about Ravana. He described his prowess, his exploits, and his army.

As he spoke, a weight seemed to lift from the rakshasa's heart. It was as if magic was upon him, the grace of the blue one he spoke to. Also, Vibheeshana felt uncannily that there was nothing he said that the prince of light before him did not already know. He felt he could go on talking to this ineffably kind kshatriya forever. Indeed, he wanted to, not only about Ravana but about himself; he wanted to tell Rama all about his own life. And he felt certain that nothing he said would be new to the prince.

As it was, Vibheeshana spoke of Ravana's tapasya and Brahma's boon to him, by which he was invincible against Deva and gandharva, Asura and kinnara, naga and rakshasa. He spoke about Ravana's Senapati, Prahastha, and his formidable army of rakshasas; then of Indrajit, Ravana's son who had vanquished Indra himself. He told Rama how Indrajit could make himself invisible while he fought. He described the young Rakshasa's maya, saying it was a powerful gift from Agni, whom the demon prince worshipped.

Vibheeshana dwelt at length on the heroes in Ravana's army; his heart sank for Rama's sake, now that he had seen the force of monkeys that must confront Lanka's ominous legions. When he had told all he knew, Vibheeshana fell silent. No vanara there, not even Sugriva, could doubt any more that this rakshasa had come as a friend.

Rama was quiet. It seemed a battle raged within him when he heard what Vibheeshana said. But then his face cleared again and a new strength sat upon it. Rama said simply, “I will kill Ravana, Prahastha, and all the evil army of Lanka. It is for that I have come. Not in Rasatala, Patala, or Brahmaloka will Ravana escape me. I swear that unless the Rakshasa and his sons lie dead upon the earth, I will not return to Ayodhya. I swear this in the names of Bharata, Lakshmana, and Shatrughna.”

Vibheeshana fell at Rama's feet again. “Accept me, Lord of light; I will fight for you. I will help you destroy Lanka. For sin rules from the throne of my ancestors and evil rules my brother Ravana's heart. I swear this by dharma and by my life.”

Rama embraced Vibheeshana. He turned to Lakshmana. “Bring us water from the sea, my brother.”

When the water came Rama said, “Lakshmana, sprinkle the holy water over Vibheeshana and crown him king of the rakshasas. For so he shall be.”

Thus Vibheeshana was crowned on that windswept beach. Sea, sky, and land craned to the twilight coronation, because it was blessed by Rama. When they saw how pure Vibheeshana's faith in Rama was, and how transparent his sincerity, the vanaras felt a surge of affection for the rakshasa. They danced and sang, and shouted his name, Sugriva's, and Rama's together, as they celebrated the unusual crowning of a king. But the four demons who had journeyed here with Vibheeshana, leaving their own families behind in Lanka, were solemn, even as if they sat in Lanka's palace, in its royal sabha.

Sugriva said to Vibheeshana, “Noblest of rakshasas, tell us how we can cross this sea and reach Lanka.”

His lofty brow furrowed, Vibheeshana thought for a moment. Then he said, “Rama should petition the ocean. Rama's ancestors, the Sagaras, gave the sea its very name. Bhagiratha's prayatna made Ganga's holy water flow into the ocean. Varuna will not refuse Rama what he asks.”

Lakshmana said, “Not even the Devas or the gandharvas have gained the shores of Lanka; and neither shall we, unless a bridge spans the waves. But if Varuna wills it, we can surely pass over him.”

Sugriva agreed, “Rama should worship the ocean.”

Rama spread darbha grass on the sands, and he lay upon them to petition the Lord of the sea. He blazed on that beach like agni on the vedi of a yagna. Rama stilled his breath and his mind, and began to pray.

Just then, another rakshasa called Shardula was passing overhead, on his way to Lanka from Bharatavarsha. He saw the army of vanaras, and paused his flight to stare down at the force that lay spread over beach, foothill, and wood. He was Ravana's spy and hung invisibly in the sky. Keen eyes peeled, missing nothing, he assessed the vanara army. He noted its deployment, its commanders, and its size.

When he had seen what he wanted to, Shardula sped through the sky again and descended in Lanka. He came into Ravana's presence. He bowed to his sovereign and said, “I have seen an amazing sight, my lord. On the northern shores of the ocean, there is another sea of vanaras that swarms over the land in a tide. I saw the glorious Rama and Lakshmana, and a thousand chieftains of monkeys, all fierce and mighty. That other sea covers the pale beach, the hillside, and the woods below Mahendra, so it seems the very earth is made only of monkeys. The vanara army is ten yojanas square, my lord; you must act quickly.”

Ravana clapped his hands, and ten guards came running to him.

“Fetch Suka to me,” cried their king.

When Suka came, lean and wiry, his eyes like coals in his bearded face, his king said to him, “Fly to the northern shore of the ocean. You will find an army of vanaras there. Commend me to their king Sugriva. Tell him that Ravana of Lanka says:

“‘Vanara, you are the scion of an ancient and noble race. What have you in common with the sons of men and this prince of Ayodhya, that you bring your army to fight for him? What concern is it of yours that I have taken his woman? I have no quarrel with you; we are not enemies. Mighty son of Riksharajas, you are like a brother to me. Lanka is impregnable and I am invincible. Go back to Kishkinda and live in peace. It is not for the vanaras to take sides in this contention. Why should you risk the lives of your people for a human who treats you like a beast?'

“Make Sugriva understand he should not meddle in this war. If the vanaras leave, two men we can easily kill.”

Across the ocean, with sorcery, dark Suka flew quick as thinking. He flew down into the heart of the vanara camp, where Sugriva sat among his monkeys around the campfires of night. The vanaras sat singing the timeless songs of their race: of tree and forest, of jungle river and mountain cave, of the green softness of branches and the terror of the night leopard. When Suka landed suddenly in their midst, they leaped up in alarm and surrounded the rakshasa. For so he plainly was, with his crinkled hair and burning eyes and the sharp fangs in his long face.

Sugriva motioned that they should not harm him; only restrain him, and allow him to speak. Suka did not bow to the vanara king, but delivered himself haughtily of Ravana's message. As he spoke, the vanaras' eyes glittered. They bared their teeth and snarled. And when they heard the cunning words about Rama treating them like beasts, the monkey folk growled in anger, for their hearts were true. They pounced on Suka, bound him, and beat him and kicked him while he lay screaming on the sand. Then Rama heard his screams and ran to the vanaras, shouting to them not to kill the rakshasa.

The monkeys tied up the lean demon and flung him at Rama's feet. His body covered in blood, his face bruised and swollen, Suka wailed, “I am only a messenger, Rama, don't let the monkeys kill me. It is not my own message that I brought, but my master's. Am I to be killed for that?”

Rama pulled the vanaras away from Suka. With a cry of relief, Suka rose into the air in a flash, out of the vanaras' reach. He hovered there, held fast by the long vine the monkeys had bound him with, helpless to release himself because his hands were tied as well. He cried down miserably, “Rama of Ayodhya, now I have seen you and you are noble indeed. Lord of monkeys, Sugriva, what message shall I take back to my king?”

Sugriva shouted up to the rakshasa, “Tell your master, Sugriva of the vanaras says to him: ‘How can you be my friend? I don't know you, nor have you ever done anything for me. Rama is dearer to me than a brother; I owe him everything I have. You are his enemy, evil one, you are the enemy of all the world. Your rakshasas kill my people in the jungle, for meat and for sport; and you and yours will die for that. The vanara army will soon arrive in Lanka. We will burn your city and you shall be a corpse among its ashes, with all your rakshasas.

“‘You are a fool, Ravana. The Devas of light may protect you; you may hide in the sun; you may dive into Patala to seek shelter. But Rama will find you anywhere, and you will die as you deserve to. It is true you slew Jatayu; but he was old and feeble. Do not think the vanaras of Sugriva will be like him. Or have you forgotten so soon what our Hanuman did to your city?

“‘You are a coward as well as a fool. You dare not face Rama and Lakshmana, but cower on your island and send out your spies, as you did Maricha. You do not know Rama; who he is. The hour of reckoning is near, Rakshasa, and you must pay for all the sins of your long, evil life. Prepare to die!'