RAMAKATHA RASAVAHINI – PART – I [10]

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RAMAKATHA RASAVAHINI – PART – I [10]

The Rama Story, Stream of Sacred Sweetness

As told by the Divine Lord Himself in the present Avatar as Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba

Chapter 15Among Hermitages

Thus, Rama entered the hermitage of Bharadwaj taking Sita with him and

accompanied by Lakshmana and Guha. The sage appeared at the doorway and walked

forward to welcome him, as if he was waiting since long to be blessed by the

Darshan; seeing him, Rama prostrated before him, and when Bharadwaj lovingly

embraced him and invited him to enter the hermitage, he was very happy to

comply. The sage made them sit on the seats he had spread on the floor, for

each according to his status.

He inquired after the welfare of every one of them and declared that his heart's

desire was fulfilled that day. He asked his pupils to bring fruits and roots,

and placing them before his guests, he pleaded that they might partake of them.

They spent the night in that hermitage, accepting the sage's hospitality and

service.

When day dawned, Rama proceeded to the confluence of the three rivers at Prayag,

and requested the sage too to give him company. Bharadwaj said, 'Listen, O Lord!

I chose this holy spot for my hermitage and austerities, since I knew I could

get here the Darshan I longed for many years. To get the thrill of your

Darshan, I undertook vows and performed Vedic Yajnas and Yagas. I immersed

myself in the chanting of Divine Names and in meditation on the Divine Form, so

that I might be rewarded with the chance to converse with you. I was awarded

Darshan of all three of you. I have no more wants. I am no more concerned with

bath or with food. I do not want to be reckoned as a fool who continued

consuming drugs, even after he was cured of illness. I am free now from the

fell disease of birth and death. I have seen

God.'

Seeing him filled with ecstasy, with tears flowing, Guha was overwhelmed with

surprise. He said to himself, "O! What great good fortune is mine!”? He was

overcome by supreme joy. Meanwhile Rama suppressed His Divinity and acted as if

he was just a man with common human attributes. While Sage Bharadwaj was

dilating delightedly on the Rama Principle, Rama listened, as if it all related

to another person called Rama and not to himself! He replied, "O! Foremost among

sages! All those who are recipients of your hospitality are, for that very

reason, adorable. All such are full of virtue and wisdom." The pupils,

ascetics, sages and monks of the hermitage who heard the words of Bharadwaj and

those of Rama were struck with wonder and filled with joy.

After the holy bath at Prayag, Rama left the hermitage with Sita, Lakshmana and

Guha, and entered the deeper recesses of the forest. Bharadwaj followed them as

far as the riverbank, and there he clasped Rama in loving embrace, wishing for

them a happy journey. Rama prayed for the blessings of the Sage and said,

"Master! Tell us which direction is best." The sage replied, with a laugh:

"Lord! There is no path unknown to you in all the worlds, is there? You are

playing the role of a mere man, in this habiliment. Well, since I have been

asked, it is my duty to reply to the best of my knowledge." Thus saying, he

beckoned to four of him pupils, and sent them with Rama to show him the track

that led to the next hermitage complex. Those boys were delighted at the chance

they secured to journey with Rama for some little

distance. They felt that it was a gift earned in previous lives. They walked in

front showing them the track. Behind them, Rama went with Sita, Lakshmana and

Guha. They went as far as the bank of the Yamuna river, and there, they took

leave of Rama and turned back, without the least will to do so. Sita, Rama and

Lakshmana were very pleased with the pupils for the help they rendered; they

blessed them with all their hearts and allowed them to leave. Then, they got

ready to have the holy bath in the sacred Yamuna. Meanwhile, the inhabitants of

the villages on the bank noticed these visitors of extra-ordinary charm and

splendor, and gathered around them, wondering who they were and whence they

came and what their names were. They were too shy and too afraid to ask. They

were talking in whispers among themselves.

Sita, Rama and Lakshmana finished their bath, with out paying heed to them, and,

coming on to the bank, Rama called Guha near, and said, "Dear one! It is a long

time since you joined us; it is not proper that you should spend so much time

with us. You must carry out your duties to your subjects. Go home now, to your

post of duty." He then gave him permission to leave. Guha found himself

helpless to answer him. "Can anyone give up the wish-fulfilling gem that he has

come by? How unfortunate I am to be forced to do so!" he wailed. He could not

disregard the command of Rama. So, he prostrated before Sita, Rama and

Lakshmana, and showered on his head the dust of their feet. He left their

presence, most unwillingly.

A short time after Guha left them, the three resumed their journey. Soon, they

saw before them a City, which shone brighter than even the City of the Nagas.

As they neared the light, they wondered which City it was. The nearer they

came, the more delighted they were at the grandeur and charm of the City and

its suburbs. Reaching quite near, they took it to be Amaravathi, the City of

the Gods and they were still more delighted. They felt that the citizens must

be gods, not men. They sat under a tree in its cool shade and admired its

splendor and magnificence. The people came around them and questioned among

themselves whether they had come down from 'heaven', and were the Immortals

themselves. They ran into the town and spread the good news that some divine

personalities were coming into the City bringing great

good luck with them. Every one who heard them ran towards the visitors and vied

with each other in attending to their comforts. Some placed milk before them;

some spread fruits; all looked at them without even a wink! No one could leave

them and go back. They stood unwilling to depart.

One of them, bolder than the rest, came forward, and spoke; "Sirs! Your charm

and imposing personality make us infer that you are princes of royal blood.

But, you are journeying by foot along these rough jungle paths, with this

damsel. You are climbing mountains and crossing rivers; you are hard travelers

braving all the dangers of the trek; so, we have to conclude that you are like

us, mere citizens. We cannot understand how you manage to travel across this

forest where lions abound and herds of wild elephants roam. And, you have with

you this tender embodiment of loveliness and beauty. Have you no kith and kin,

no friends and comrades, no well-wishers? If there were any such, certainly,

they would not have allowed you to venture on this journey". He inquired into

the nature and cause of the journey and put a

number of other questions to Rama.

Meanwhile, a woman advanced from the gathering towards them, and addressed Rama

thus; "0 Prince! I am placing a prayer before you. Woman that I am, I am afraid

to express it. Pardon my effrontery. We are common folk, unacquainted with

verbal finesse. Your physical charm reflects the luster of emerald and gold,

which seem to be the source of your brightness. One of you has the complexion

of the rain-cloud, while the other is resplendent white. Both are as enchanting

as a billion Gods of Love, moulded into human bodies. Again, we are not aware

how this sweet damsel is related to you? She has the exquisite charm of the

Goddess of Love, Rathi Devi. Watching her modesty and innate humility, as well

as her charm, we women are ashamed of ourselves. Kindly tell us who you are,

and for what purpose you have come thus

wise."

Listening to their prayers and watching their eagerness and joy, Rama and

Lakshmana were very much amused. Just then, Sita turned towards the women and

spoke to them thus: "Sisters! This simple, sincere person with the golden

complexion is Lakshmana. He is my Lord's brother, a younger brother. Then about

the dark-blue person: he with the Lotus-petal-eyes that enrapture the worlds,

with the long, strong bow-arms, (here, she turned towards Rama), this is my

Lord, the very breath of my life." Saying this, she bent her head and looked at

the ground. Just then, a young maiden interjected, "Ma! You haven't told us your

name!" Sita immediately said, "My name is Sita. I am known as Janaki, the

daughter of Janaka." The women looked at each other in wonder and appreciation

and then, with one voice, they blessed Sita

profusely, saying, "May you both be as happy a couple as God Siva and Goddess

Parvathi and may you live together, as long as the Sun and Moon, as long as the

Earth rests upon the hood of the snake Adisesha, in harmony and unbroken joy."

Rama too spoke to the men and informed them that they had come to see the

grandeur and beauty of the forests and that their journey so far had been quite

comfortable and useful, that they were not in the least exhausted or

inconvenienced. He asked their permission to leave, and then, they turned to

the forests again. Having nothing left to do, the men and women hied homeward.

Sita, Rama and Lakshmana wended their way, talking among themselves about the

citizens and the questions they asked, the affection they manifested and the

joy that glinted in their eyes. Suddenly, Rama noticed signs of exhaustion on

the face of Sita, and proposed that they rest a while under a shady tree. A

cool broad stream flowed near by. Lakshmana ventured into the jungle and soon

gathered some fruits and tubers, which all three ate with

relish. They spent the night there, quite happily.

At dawn they awoke, and finishing the morning ablutions, they started off on the

next lap of their journey. Soon, they entered the fearsome recesses of the

forest. The towering peaks, dark dreadful tangle of trees, and the deafening

roar or flooded streams, produced a queer feeling of awe and mystery.

Right in the midst of that frightful area, they came upon a patch of garden,

nursed and fostered by man, and upon it, a hermitage that was charming to

behold. That was the ashram of the sage Valmiki. On one side of the hermitage

rose the cliffs of a tall mountain; on the other side, far below, at the bottom

of a deep trough, flowed a murmuring stream. The hermitage was a picture of

beauty; it shone like a gem on that green carpet. Sita felt considerably

relieved and assuaged when her eyes fell on that picture.

Learning from his pupils that they had entered the garden Valmiki emerged from

the hermitage and appeared at the door. Sita, Rama and Lakshmana hurried

forward and fell at the feet of the sage. The sage too, moved forward and, as

if he had known them long, he welcomed them, with fond embrace. He invited all

three to enter the hermitage. The sage Valmiki provided comfortable seats for

Rama whom he loved as his very breath, and for Lakshmana and Sita; he called

for fruits and edible tubers and placed them before the three. As desired by

Valmiki, they partook of them, and expressed their pleasure. Valmiki sat before

them, watching Rama and quenching the thirst of his eyes. He was filled with

inexpressible delight.

With utmost humility, Rama addressed the great sage thus: "Most venerable Sage!

You are conversant with the past, the present and the future of all; so, the

reason why I have entered this forest must be as clear to you as the berry in

one's palm. Nevertheless, I feel it right that I should discharge my duty of

informing you why I am here, with my wife and brother." Then Rama described how

Queen Kaikeyi sent him into exile in the forest, and how brother Bharatha was

crowned as ruler of the realm, according to the promise made by the father.

The sage listened to the story, and communicated his joy with a face lit with

smiles. He said. "Rama! As you fulfilled their desires then, you have satisfied

my desire now. My austerities, vows and yearning have at last yielded fruit

today. I must confer on Kaikeyi my heartfelt gratitude and a share of the bliss

I am now enjoying."

Valmiki sat long in silence, with his eyes closed, while trying to keep within

control the emotions of gratitude and joy surging inside him. Tears gathered in

his eyes, tears of Ananda, and they rolled down his cheeks in big drops that

chased each other.

Rama broke the silence and said, "We shall reside at the place where you direct

us to live. Indicate to us a place where we shall not cause any trouble to any

one and where we shall not come in the way of hermits and hermitages; give us

proper advice. We shall put up a 'thatch' of leaves at that place and spend

some time therein."

These words from a pure sincere heart moved the sage; he said, in reply, "0

Rama! I am indeed blessed. You are as the Flag that proclaims the glory of the

Raghu dynasty. For what reason are you voicing thus? You are the force that

fosters the path laid down in the Vedas; you are the power that safeguards it

from harm. Sita is 'the deluding half of your personality, your Maya. She

creates, maintains and destroys (as you 'will') worlds beyond worlds. And,

Lakshmana is the very basis of the movable and the immovable, the

'thousand-hooded serpent', the Primal Sesha-Nag, which upholds the Universe.

You have assumed forms, in order to carry out the wishes of the Gods, that you

re-establish righteousness in the world. You will, I am sure, destroy all

demonic hearts, pretty soon. You will protect the good and the

compassionate. Rama! You are the eternal Witness of the play named 'The World'.

The Universe is the 'seen'; you are the Witness. Even the gods fail to gauge

your Reality and your Glory. How then can ordinary mortals understand your

Mystery? Only those who have received your Grace, namely, Wisdom, can claim to

have known something of your Truth and your Majesty. You have taken this human

form in order to promote the peace and security of good men and the gods; as a

consequence, you are conversing and behaving like one of us. Only fools are

misled into behaving that you are a man among men! We are all puppets who play

about as you direct, as you pull the strings. Who are we to direct you to act

thus wise or to stay at a certain place? Rama! Are you planning to delude us,

ascetics, by your words? 0, how wonderful is your play! How realistic is your

acting! Don't I know that you are the Director of this cosmic drama? I cannot

understand why you are asking me to select a spot where you

can stay for some time in this forest. Which spot can I choose and recommend?

For, is there any spot in the whole Universe where you are not, already? Answer

me this question, and thereafter, I shall point out the place to which you can

go and where you can stay" Valmiki said, looking at the charming face of Rama;

in the extremity of his delight, words melted away on his tongue.

Rama laughed within himself when he listened to the revered sage. Meanwhile, the

sage spoke again, soft and sweet, with a smile beaming on his resplendent face.

"Rama! I know in reality you reside in the hearts of your devotees. Now, I

shall tell you the best place where this form of yours can stay. Listen. You

can reside there with Sita and Lakshmana. Select those whose ears, like the

ocean, receive gladly the streams of stories recounting your exploits, and are

ever happy, listening to the narratives of your divine acts and words, whose

tongues are busy repeating your name and tasting its nectarine sweetness, whose

throats recite and revel in the recitation of your praise and of your words

which are soft and refreshingly sweet, whose eyes yearn to see your cloud blue

form as the Chatak bird yearns for the

first cloudburst, whose ever-present longing is to discover you anywhere, in any

quarter, and delight in the discovery when you find any such. O! Rama, dwell

there, with Sita and Lakshmana.

"Rama! If you wish that I elaborate further, listen: Stay in the heart of the

person who discards the evil in others and loves them for the good they have,

who trudges along the journey of life in the path of morality and integrity,

who observes approved limits of conduct and behavior, and who has the faith in

thought, word and deed, that the Universe is your creation and that the entire

objective world is your body.

"Nevertheless, since you have assumed now this human body and come here in order

to carry out the commands of your mother and father, and questioned me in that

role, I am venturing to answer, as if that role is real. You can reside on the

Chitrakuta Hill. It has all facilities for comfortable stay. It is a holy

place, and a charming beauty spot. The atmosphere is saturated with love and

peace. Lions and elephants roam together there, with no trace of rivalry. The

river Mandakini, extolled in the Vedas, flows round the hill. Sages like Athri

live there in hermitages, which you can visit and render more sacred. Confer

your blessing on that sublime spot and on that dear divine river."

As soon as Valmiki gave this direction, Rama agreed and receiving his permission

to leave, he resumed his journey with Sita and Lakshmana. Within a short time,

they saw the Mandakini, and were happy to bathe in its sacred waters, and

perform the prescribed ceremonial rites. They rested awhile under a shady tree,

and ate some fruits, before walking over the grass for some distance, admiring

the verdure and the scenery.

Then, Rama spoke to Lakshmana thus: "Lakshmana! I am at a loss to decide on the

exact spot where we can erect a cottage of leaf thatch and bamboo for our stay

in this place; I do not find it easy to say which place is good and which is

not; so, select and fix upon a spot."

No sooner did these words fall on his ears than Lakshmana crumpled on the ground

right at the feet of Rama. He was in evident anguish. "What wrong have I

committed that you should speak to me thus! Is this a sentence for any sin? Or,

are you testing me, and my nature? Or, are you joking and making fun of me?", he

asked. He was in great sorrow and he stood with his head bent with fear and

anxiety.

Rama was surprised at his behavior. He went near him and clasped him to his

bosom. "Brother! What happened now to make you so sad? I cannot guess why you

are so heart-broken," he said. "Tell me", he pleaded, "tell me the reason, do

not prolong my astonishment and sorrow."

Lakshmana replied immediately. He said, "Brother! I have surrendered everything

to you. I have no likes and dislikes. What is pleasing to you is, on that

account, pleasing to me. You know that this is the fact. But, yet, you now ask

me to select a place which I like and erect a cottage for you thereon! My heart

received a shock when you directed me to exercise my will. Order me where it is

to be raised; I shall do so. Be merciful, do not speak to me in this strain,

bless me by accepting the surrender I am offering at thy feet of all of me, the

will, the intelligence, the mind, the senses, the body, all with no exception

and no reservation. I am your servant, following you in the hope of having the

chance to serve you. Use me. Command me, and have the command obeyed and the

action

accomplished."

When Lakshmana prayed and supplicated so sincerely, Rama consoled him and

pacified his feelings. "Lakshmana", he said, "Why are you worried so much on

this little matter? Do not take it so much to heart. I gave you that direction

in just a casual way. I am not unaware of the loyalty that fills your heart.

Well. Come along with me. Right! I shall select the spot myself." And, with

Sita by his side, he took the forest track, along with Lakshmana, and shortly,

they sighted the northern bank of the Mandakini river. That length of bank was

curved like a bow; it appeared as if the Chitrakuta peak standing behind it

like a hero held the bow. One felt that the arrows it was ready to let loose

were Sense control. Mind control, Charity, Renunciation, etc., and the target

they were intended to destroy was the Gang of Sin.

Rama described the spot thus and added: "This hero will not withdraw from the

fight"! He directed that the cottage be built on that captivating spot.

Lakshmana requested Rama and Sita to rest a while under a tree, and set about

collecting poles, leaves, creepers and fiber from tree-barks to spin ropes

from. In order to raise a hut spacious enough for three, he dug pits, planted

poles, and labored quickly to complete the construction. When Sita and Rama

rose from the shade after some rest, they found the cottage rising before their

eyes, a thing of beauty, certain to be a lovely home by all counts. Rama felt

that he too should give Lakshmana some help in his work, and so, seeing his

brother on the roof, giving the finishing touches, he handed him from the

ground bits of string to tie the bundles of dry grass to the cross poles in

order to thicken the thatch. Sita too desired to give a helping hand; she

plucked long leaves from the tree branches Lakshmana had

brought, and gave sheaves of them into Rama's hands to be passed on to Lakshmana.

The house was ready for occupation, even before sun set. Rama looked often and

long at the neat little cottage, and he praised the devotion and skill of his

brother to Sita, in high terms. Sita too appreciated the house and said that

she had at no time seen a dwelling place of such charm; she had for a long time

yearned to live in just such a habitation. She told Rama that her long-cherished

desire was fulfilled that day.

Meanwhile, Lakshmana came down from the roof; he went round the cottage to

examine whether anything was wanting. Then, he asked permission from Rama to

proceed to the Mandakini for a bath. A short while after, Sita and Rama both

went to the river and had their bath; they returned to the cottage and partook

of the fruits that Lakshmana had gathered in the morning, and slept soundly on

the floor of their new home.

Before another day passed, the news that Sita, Rama and Lakshmana had taken

residence on the Chitrakuta Hill spread among the hermits of the forest and

groups of them, bringing their pupils and comrades, approached the sacred

cottage, and after taking Darshan, left for their hermitages. Rama asked them

about their health and progress and also enquired about the difficulties they

encountered. Rama assured them that whenever they required his service, he was

ready, with his brother, to go to their rescue.

But they mentioned no difficulties and referred to no troubles. They said,

"Rama! The fact that we have been able to see you is enough to make our lives

trouble-free. We have no difficulties, nor can any difficulty come into our

lives. Your Grace is enough protection for us." They sat petrified with wonder

at the charming personality of Rama. Rama welcomed the ascetics and treated

them with affectionate regard. Seeing him and being in his presence cooled the

pining hearts of the ascetics and gave them immense consolation and confidence.

A deep calm descended on their consciousness.

Rama is predominantly Love. He made every one of the forest-dwellers happy. He

discoursed with them, and slaked the thirst for Love that was tormenting them.

Those who came to him, whether ascetics or hunters, received from him

instruction that was appropriate to their aspirations. Rama elevated their

occupations into a higher level by his sympathy and counsel. Those who went to

him and returned from his presence talked among themselves of his virtues and

compassion; they reached their homes extolling him and congratulating

themselves. The forest where they had resolved to reside shone with a new glory

and thrilled with a new joy, right from the day they entered the cottage. It was

charming to the eye and saturated with a coolness that delighted the mind. The

ascetic communities that lived in the forest had fear

and anxiety removed from their lives; in their place, Ananda grew and

flourished. Even the hard-hearted hunter clans started observing the rules of

morality; they soon became ornaments of the human race. The Vindhyan Range was

sad that the Chitrakuta Mountain had won this fortune. Why? Not the Vindhyan

Range alone; all mountain ranges continued to be sad, for they could not

attract Rama to select them for his residence.

Lakshmana had the unique chance of feasting his eyes upon the Lotus Feet of Sita

and Rama, and imbibing the affection they bestowed on Him; so, he forgot

everything else, and immersed himself in supreme spiritual ecstasy,

Sath-Chith-Ananda. His mother, Sumitra Devi, or his wife Urmila, or his other

kinsmen did not appear before his vision, even in dreams. So austere was his

refusal to remember them. Sita too never recalled, even for the fraction of a

second, her relatives or parents, or the Cities of Mithila and Ayodhya. She was

fixing her eyes and attention on the Lotus Feet of Sri Ramachandra. That was the

veritable festival for her eyes; she watched the stream of sages and their

consorts who came to Rama for instruction and guidance. Time flowed by her

without her noticing the passage of night and day. The

chakora bird delights to the point of self-forgetfulness when the moon shines in

the sky; so too, Sita reaped delight, fixing her eyes intently on the Face of

Rama. For Sita, the lovely little grass-thatched bamboo cottage was so

attractive that she forgot the palace of Mithila, where she grew up into

maidenhood, and the palace of Ayodhya where she spent years as the Princely

Daughter-in-law. That cottage was to her more pleasing and palatial than all

the mansions she knew.

Off and on, Rama used to relate stories of ancient heroes famed in Puranik lore

and describe the varied achievements of persons who had mastered the mysteries

of austerity. Sita and Lakshmana heard these eagerly and with enthusiasm. In

the midst of these narrations, Rama used to remember his parents, and remind

them of their grief at being separated from them; on these occasions, Sita had

her eyes filled with tears at the thought of her father-in-law and

mother-in-law. Drops rolled down her cheeks when she pictured the plight of

Queen Kausalya. Suddenly, she pulled herself up, with the thought that she was

with Rama, the Lion among Men, that it was not proper to give in to sadness or

anxiety in the forest while she was in his presence and that whatever happens

must be welcomed as the Leela (cosmic play) of her

Lord. Thus, Sita spent her days in undiluted happiness in that cottage, with

Rama and Lakshmana. They too were guarding her like the lids of the eye against

the slightest disturbance or noise that might affect her equanimity, and raise

fears in her mind. No worry affected them; no grief or pain or shade of sadness

marred their happiness at Chitrakuta.

Chapter 16(a)Gloom over Ayodhya

Meanwhile, the Ruler of the Nishadas who was returning to his kingdom after

accompanying Rama for some distance into the forest saw the Minister Sumanthra

sitting in his chariot on the bank of the Ganga, the horses having been tied by

their reins to a shady tree. Guha found Sumanthra weeping and wailing

inconsolably, alone. Guha himself could not control any longer the anguish he

had restrained so long. He cried out, 'Rama', and ran towards Sumanthra. He

embraced the old man and both sobbed aloud in agony, unable to put their grief

in words. They stood under the tree together, but fell on the ground as if they

were themselves trees felled by an axe. They lamented the fate of Sita, Rama and

Lakshmana and poured abuse on Kaikeyi, the cause of all the calamities.

The horses stopped grazing, and desisted from drinking water. Tears rolled from

their eyes. Whenever they heard Sumanthra and Guha utter the names of Sita or

Rama, or Lakshmana, they raised their heads aloft, and peered into the

distance, anxious to catch a glimpse of those whom they adored and loved with

as much zeal as the two men in the agony of separation. Sumanthra noted the

grief, which was tormenting the animals and his anguish, became even greater.

Some hours must have passed by this heart-rending wail. At last, Guha managed to

recover a little; he mustered some courage, as needs some one must; he addressed

Sumanthra thus: "Ah, Minister! You are profoundly intelligent, steadfast in

morality and a person who has identified the Reality behind all this passing

show. Fate plays strange tricks, and so, one has to learn to put up with them.

Rise! Return to Ayodhya! Convey the news to Kausalya and Sumitra, who are

yearning to see you and to listen to your account." He raised Sumanthra

forcibly from where he had fallen. He seated him in the chariot. He brought the

horses and yoked them to the central pole.

Sumanthra realized that what Guha was insisting was the correct step. Moved by a

spurt of blind courage the old man signed to the horses to move forward; his

body lost strength as a result of the anguish of separation from Rama.

Therefore, however much he tried he could not drive the chariot as of old. He

rolled down inside the chariot and rose in his seat many times in a few

minutes. And the horses? They too would not move. They were set on turning back

and straining their necks to see the road behind.

Sumanthra cursed himself and his fate. "Fie on me", he said. "May this horrid

life of mine be ended. This body has to be burnt into ash some day. Far better

it were if, instead of dying through some disease or some worldly calamity, it

died as a result of unbearable agony at separation from Rama. That would have

made my life worthwhile. That would have made my fame ever-lasting; earning

that fame is enough compensation for all the ills of life.No, Sumanthra," he

said to himself. "Had you the good luck, you would have stuck to Rama; when bad

luck haunts you, what else can you do than come away and be alive? Of what use

is it now to pine and blame yourself?" Sumanthra chided himself most

mercilessly, in this strain.

He started again the dialogue with himself. 'With what face am I to present

myself in Ayodhya? When the citizens ask me where Rama is, what can I answer?

When they ask me, 'how could you come away leaving Rama in the jungle,' what

can I tell them? Will I not be overwhelmed by shame and sorrow? O, my heart has

become stone. Else, why has it not split into fragments at all that I have gone

through?" Sumanthra was disgusted at his own meanness; he wrung his hands in

despair. He decided that he should not enter the City during the hours of

sun-light, when people would be moving about. It would be less humiliating, he

felt, to enter the City at night, after every one had gone to bed and was fast

asleep.

But, soon, his inner voice told him, "What? Can the people of Ayodhya ever

sleep? No, no. They cannot. It is just my foolishness and ignorance that make

me imagine they do. They would be awake, awaiting news of the return of Rama

or, at least, any news about him. I cannot escape the humiliation and the

shame, whether I enter the City at night or during day. Well. For me, who did

not deserve the grace of Rama, this ill fate is the proper meed. It is best I

go through it and bear the burden of that blame." Thus, Sumanthra wended his

way slowly and haltingly, spending time in framing questions to himself and

presenting answers to them

At last, he reached the bank of the Thamasa River. So, he decided to spend a few

hours there, allowing the horses to graze a bit and himself preparing for the

entry into the City after nightfall, when the people would not be about the

streets, but would be safe in bed. Finally, the chariot rolled into the gate of

the City and began to move through thoroughfares.

Sumanthra took extra care to ensure silence from wheel and hoof; the chariot

moved at the pace of a snail. But, who could silence the agony of the horses?

They recognized the streets through which they had taken Rama; they groaned

aloud at their present fate, when their dear Rama was far, far away.

The populace of the City heard this pathetic neigh; their ears were set to hear

this piteous cry; they told each other that Sumanthra had returned with an

empty chariot; they ran into the street and stood pathetically on both sides to

witness the sad spectacle.

Sumanthra bent his head low, when he saw the crowds. Seeing him in this pitiable

posture, they guessed that Rama had not returned, and swooned on the spot,

falling wherever they stood. Many wept aloud. The residents of the palaces of

the Queens, when they heard the neighs of the grief-stricken steeds, sent maids

in haste to inquire why; they hurried in groups towards Sumanthra and showered

questions on him. He sat dejected and crestfallen, like a mute person, unable

to find words to tell them the answers. He sat unmoved like a broken pillar, as

If he was deaf and could not hear what they were so earnestly asking him.

>From his behaviour, the maids inferred that Rama had rejected all importunities

to return. They lamented, "O Minister! Have you left Sita in the

terror-striking forest, and come back yourself, alone?" and broke into a sudden

sharp wail.

One maid was more courageous than the rest. She told Sumanthra that Kausalya had

ordered that he should come straight to the palace where she was.

There Sumanthra found the Emperor prostrate on the floor, exhausted without

sleep or food, in disheveled clothes. Sumanthra mastered the surge of sorrow

within him, and uttering the words "Jai! Jai", which are traditionally to be

pronounced first in the imperial presence, he stood by, shaking head to foot.

Recognizing that voice, Dasaratha sat up quick, and plaintively asked him,

"Sumanthra! Where is my Rama?"

Sumanthra clasped the Emperor in his arms; the Emperor clung to him as a

drowning man clings to a blade of grass. Seeing both of them weeping on account

of immeasurable sorrow, Kausalya was submerged in grief; she could scarce

breathe; she gasped and was pitifully suffocating with agony. The maids noticed

this and, themselves loudly lamenting the misfortune that had overtaken all,

they struggled to console the queen and restore her.

Meanwhile, Dasaratha pulled himself up a little; he made Sumanthra sit right in

front of him; he asked him "Sumanthra! Tell me about my Sita and Rama. Tell me

all about them. How is Lakshmana? Alas, tender Sita must indeed be very much

tired. Where are they now? Tell me". Noting that Sumanthra was not eager to

reply, he shook him by the shoulders and pleaded most piteously.

Sumanthra was too full of shame to look the Emperor in the face; he bent his

looks towards the floor, and with eyes streaming with tears, he scarce could

speak. Dasaratha continued his sobs. He said, "O Rama! My breath is still

lingering on in this frame, even though a son like you left me. The world has

no sinner equal to me in heinousness. Sumanthra! Where exactly are my Sita,

Rama and Lakshmana, at present? Take me without delay to the place where they

are. Do me this good turn. Fulfill this desire of mine. Without seeing them, I

cannot live a second longer".

And, like a person infatuated and desperate, he shouted in pain, "Rama! O Rama!

Let me see you at least once. Won't you give me the chance to see you?

The maids standing outside the hall where he was lying could not sleep or take

food, since they were sunk in sorrow at the Emperor's plight. Sumanthra

replied, "Imperial Monarch! Rajadhiraja! You are extremely wise; you are made

in heroic mould; your abilities are profound. Your lineage is divine. You have

always served ascetics and saints. You know that as night follows day and day

follows night wealth and want, happiness and misery, nearness and separation

come one after the other, with certain inevitability. Only fools are carried

off their feet in joy when happiness comes and are dispirited, downhearted when

misery comes. Either should not affect learned men like you; they should be full

of equanimity, what ever might happen. I have no credentials to advise you to

face this situation courageously for, you

know the need for courage very much more. O Benefactor of the World! Heed my

prayers. Give up this grief. I shall describe the details of my journey with

them now. Please listen calmly." At this, Kausalya struggled to raise herself

up, with the help of the maids; she leant on them and made herself ready to

listen to what Sumanthra had to say.

Sumanthra began, "O Master! The first day we journeyed up to the bank of the

Thamasa. Sita, Rama and Lakshmana bathed in the river and after drinking water,

they rested under a spreading tree. The next day, we reached the Ganga River.

Darkness was invading from all sides. I stopped the chariot according to the

command of Rama. All three bathed and rested on a stretch of sand. When dawn

broke Rama asked Lakshmana to bring him the juice of the banyan tree, and when

he did so, Rama applied it on his hair and matted it, so that he could wear it

on the crown of his head. Meanwhile, the ruler of the Nishada tribe, a friend

of Rama, brought a boat; Sita was made to get in to the boat first; after her,

Rama sat in it; later honoring the order of Rama, Lakshmana entered the boat,

carrying the bow and arrows. Ere he sat

in the boat; Lakshmana came to me and asked me to convey prostrations and homage

to the parents, and his prayer for blessings. He also directed me to request you

to put up with things boldly and wisely."

Sumanthra continued his account of what Rama had asked him to announce at

Ayodhya. "Master", he told Dasaratha, "Rama said 'Communicate my homage to the

Preceptor. Advise my father not to grieve over what has happened'. After this,

Rama called me near him, and directed me thus, 'Call together the Ministers,

the Citizens of Ayodhya, and the kinsmen of the Royal Family and tell them of

this request, specially made by me: only those among them who help to make my

father's life happy are dear to me.' Rama said, 'On Bharatha's arrival, convey

my blessings to him, and direct him to accept the burden of ruling over the

empire, and to conserve and to promote justice and integrity, fostering the

welfare of the people through means that are pure in thought, word and deed.

Tell him that I desire him to serve the parents so

well that they will forget their agony at separation from me.'

"While Rama was engaged in commissioning me thus, Sita too approached and told

me to inform you she was happily spending time with Rama with nothing wanting.

She wanted me to offer her prostrations at the feet of her father-in-law and

mothers-in-law. She wanted me to tell them not to be anxious about her and to

be assured that she was happy with her lord, and eagerly expecting them to

bless her always. She requested me to tell them that she inquired often of

their health and welfare.

"Meanwhile, the boatman realized that it was Rama's wish that he should not

delay any longer; so he started to dip the oar in the river. Soon, Rama moved

off. I was looking on at the receding boat, with my heart literally petrified;

I must have spent a long time standing there on the riverbank. I had to return

perforce to this place to carry out the orders of Rama; else, I certainly would

have drowned myself in the Ganga; I had become so desperate. I had to continue

my life, just for this purpose - to convey to you the message from Rama. This

Ayodhya which has no Rama in it appears to me forlorn and fearful as a forest."

Listening to the words of Sumanthra and the soft sweet messages from Rama and

Sita, Dasaratha could not restrain his anguish; he could not forget all that

had happened; he fell in a faint.

The Emperor's breath was suffocated, like a fish, which struggles to wriggle out

of the dense slush into which it has fallen. Seeing his plight, the queens burst

into heart-rending wails. Words cannot describe that moment of desperate

distress. Seeing their sorrow, even sorrow could not restrain its own sorrow.

The agony of the queens, the agony of the Emperor, the agony of the maids of

the palace, spread confusion and consternation over the entire City. The

residents of the Capital scattered in terror, just like birds of the forest,

frightened at midnight by a sudden thunderbolt.

Like a lotus stalk, which, plucked and thrown out of the water, fades fast, the

Emperor was fast leaving the body. Words could not emerge from the throat, the

tongue became dry. The senses turned dull and ineffective. Kausalya watched the

Emperor and she noted that the Sun of the Solar Dynasty was setting.

She mustered courage and stepping near, she placed the head of her lord on her

lap and tried to make him listen to a few words of consolation and comfort. She

said, "Lord! Sita, Rama and Lakshmana will be arriving soon and seeing you. Hear

my words; take courage; strengthen yourself". When she so compassionately prayed

into his ear, Dasaratha opened his eyes, and muttered audibly, "Kausalya! Where

is my Rama? Show me, show me, where is he? Take me to him. Alas! My sweet and

tender daughter-in-law is not here now. And, Lakshmana, where is he that I

don't see him here".

Dasaratha bent his head, unable to hold it up any more. The burden of grief was

so heavy. A few minutes later, the Emperor remembered the curse that was

pronounced on him by the blind hermit, the father of Shravana. He sat up with a

struggle, and began telling Kausalya in feeble accents, the story of that curse.

"Kausalya! On one occasion, I had gone into the forest on a hunting expedition.

A large number of soldiers and huntsmen followed me thither. We could not meet

any wild animal the whole day; but, I felt that I should not return to the

Capital with empty hands, with nothing bagged. We entered the forest in the

night, and waited and watched for some luck. The dawn was about to break into

the darkness around us on the brink of a vast lake, when something moved on the

edge of the water. I could also hear the sound of the movement.

"I inferred that it was a big beast of the jungle, and since I could shoot the

arrow straight at the sound and effect a kill, I drew my bow and let go the

sharp, sure arrow. It flew fast and furious and hit that animal already on the

move. Suddenly, I heard the cry of pain, 'Ah', emanating from the place where

it fell. I ran forward with the soldiers and lo, I found it was not a beast I

had killed; it was the young son of a hermit! I bent by his side and prayed

that he should pardon me, for the tragic error. The son of the hermit told me;

'Emperor! Do not grieve. Fulfill this request of mine, the request I shall

presently tell you; that will be enough requital for the sin you have

perpetrated. My name is Shravana. My father and mother are both blind. I was

spending the days of my life serving them both;

that service was granting me all the happiness I needed. I was blessed with even

the highest knowledge, the Realization of the Reality. They are now suffering

from excruciating thirst. I came here to this lake to take some water to them.

You shot at me imagining me to be an animal of the forest. Who can avoid the

decrees of destiny? My present condition is such that I can no longer walk with

this water to my parents. Therefore, take this vessel of water with you to them;

go in the northerly direction, until you come to a lonely thatched hut, and,

after they have slaked their thirst, describe what has happened to me here. Not

tell them anything about me before they slake their thirst". Saying this, he

placed the vessel in my hands, and passed away.

Kausalya! O, how pathetically anxious he was for his parents! He never worried

about his life, which was fast ebbing away; he did not speak a harsh word to

me; those soft sweet loving words he uttered are still echoing in my ears. With

his last breath, he repeated the sacred Pravana, Om, Om, Om, clearly, three

times. Seeing him and his calm courageous death, I decided that I should make

amends for my sin by fulfilling his last desire. I hurried to the hut he had

mentioned, and gave the vessel into their hands, without uttering a single

word. But, those parents started asking many questions; they inquired, 'Son!

Why did you take so much time? Why this delay?' They moved their hands forward

and waved them about, so that they may touch him, and feel his presence before

them. I stepped back a little; meanwhile, the

aged couple, wailed, 'Son! Why is it that today you are not speaking to us? We

shall not drink the water that you have brought unless you talk to us and

answer our queries!

"I had directed, that the body of Shravana be brought behind me by the soldiers

to the parents' hut. They arrived at this time with the corpse. I placed the

body within reach of the mother. She wept most pathetically over the body; I

could not look on. Some time later, the mother established some little mastery

over her grief and told me, 'Emperor! There is no use extending our lives

hereafter, since our son has left us. We have grown old; who will serve us and

foster us? Kill us too, as you killed him. Or else, erect a pyre, so that we

can immolate ourselves with our son'. I bowed my head, and accepted their

command. I heaped dry wood and piled up a pyre. The son's corpse was placed on

it. They sat on it and by sheer exercise of Yogic power; they created fire in

themselves and burnt

themselves.

"Before they immolated themselves, they addressed me and spoke a few words.

Their holy curse is proving true today." At this point, Dasaratha stopped some

time, in order to take rest, and to compose the agitation of his mind. Kausalya

pacified him, and gave him consolation and mental calm. She said, "Lord! What

did the parents say? Tell me, I am anxious to hear". Dasaratha stayed silent

for a while and replied, "Kausalya! What can I say? How can I repeat those

words? Those old people, the aged couple, spoke thus: 'You will end your life,

as we are doing now, out of unbearable agony at separation from your son'. And

then, they breathed their last, amidst the rising flames.

"At that time, I had no son; I wondered how their curse would affect me. How

could their word come true, I thought within myself. But I also thought, that

being the words of an aged sage, they cannot but become true. That meant I must

have sons, so that I may be separated from them. You know how sad we were, for

we had no sons then. I felt that the curse might prove a blessing; I prayed it

may come true, so that, even though I may have to be separated from them, I

might have sons. I could not tell you this secret till now. Now, I understand

that the words of that holy hermit represented genuine truth. The agony of

separation from Rama is bringing about my end. I have recalled to memory the

tragedy of Shravana. My courage is spent. I cannot muster it any more."

Dasaratha was lost in the contemplation of the incidents of the past. "Rama!

Rama! Rama!" he cried thrice, and leaned back on Kausalya. Kausalya noticed the

change that had come over him, and screamed. The attendants and maids gathered

around. They found that the Emperor had drawn his last breath. The city was

turned into a vale of tears, a seething pool of grief. Crowds surged into the

palace. The streets became fast-moving torrents of weeping humanity. People

cast curses on Kaikeyi, for, they felt that the City had lost its Eyes, as a

result of her machinations.

Vasishtha, the Royal Preceptor, arrived at the Hall, where the body of the

Emperor lay. He spoke appropriate counsel and tried to assuage the sorrow of

the queens. He consoled Kausalya and Sumitra, telling them about the deceased

forefathers and how they too could not escape death, in spite of their might

and majesty. Since there was no one present who could officiate during the

obsequies, the body was, according to the instructions given by Vasishtha, kept

immersed in oil so that it might not disintegrate. Vasishtha beckoned a courier,

and told him. "Here! Go quickly to Bharatha; do not tell him a word about the

death of the Emperor; but tell him only this—the Preceptor wants that you and

your brother should return immediately to the Capital City." The courier fell

at the feet of the Preceptor, and took leave

of the Minister, before he started on the long journey in a fleet chariot.

Ever since Ayodhya was plunged in sorrow, Bharatha was experiencing various

premonitions in the form of ominous dreams. He was awakened by the terror and

turmoil, which the dreams presented before him. Many nights Bharatha had not

even a wink of sleep. He sat up in bed, in an eerie state of expectation. He

feared that some bad news was coming fast towards him. He moved out even before

dawn, and, after an early bath, he engaged himself in various rites and

ceremonies in order to propitiate the Gods and avert the expected calamity. He

sat long in the shrine, praying for relief. In spite of all this, he was

haunted by a mysterious fear.

The dreams were persisting for fourteen days and so Bharatha had reached the

very bottom of his courage and faith. Meanwhile the courier from Ayodhya

managed to reach the City of Kekaya, where Bharatha was, on the fifteenth day

of his long journey. When Bharatha was informed of his arrival at the main

entrance to the Palace, Bharatha ordered that he be brought in immediately, so

that he might know what had brought him.

The courier prostrated before Bharatha and prayed that he and his brother start

without the least delay, according to the command of the Preceptor, to Ayodhya.

Bharatha inquired about the welfare of people in Ayodhya, plying the courier

with a variety of questions. He replied that there was nothing special to

report, except that the Preceptor wanted them to return soon, without delay.

This was the task on which he had come and he had nothing more to may. Nor did

he know anything more.

Bharatha knew that couriers would not speak more than a few words before their

royal masters and the royal masters too should not keep on talking to them

intimately for long. Etiquette demanded that he should not converse with him

for more than a few minutes. The courier too had his code of discipline. So, he

rose and left the chamber.

That very moment, Bharatha entered the inner apartments, and took leave of his

maternal uncle; along with his brother, Satrughna, he got into the waiting

chariot, and hurried it to move forward faster and faster. Like an arrow from

an intrepid bow, the chariot flew over mountain paths, hill tracks and jungle

roads. Grief was surging from Bharatha's heart, as fast as the chariot itself.

He could not explain why or wherefore. Some inexplicable agony afflicted him.

Bharatha did not wish to delay on the road for food or even for a gulp of water

to assuage his thirst.

TO BE CONTINUED

With Sai love from Sai brothers –

‘’Do You

?