Valmiki Ramayana Read online

  Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa

  The Book of Wilderness

  Translated and abridged by ARSHIA SATTAR

  PENGUIN BOOKS

  Contents

  About the Author

  By the Same Author

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Footnotes

  Three

  Copyright

  PENGUIN BOOKS

  VĀLMĪKI RĀMĀYAṆA

  Vālmīki is almost indisputably the author of the Sanskrit Rāmāyaṇa even though it is quite likely that the story of Rama’s life was in circulation before Vālmīki gave it its present form. As a poet and composer, Vālmīki acts within the story that he tells. Later legend has it that Vālmīki was a bandit who was converted from his life of looting and pillaging by Rāma’s grace. His devotion then inspired him to compose and recite the story of Rāma’s adventures. While it is impossible to establish conclusive dates for Vālmīki’s life and there is nothing outside the Rāmāyaṇa itself to prove that he was a historical figure, it is believed that this Sanskrit text was composed between 700 and 500 BC.

  Arshia Sattar has a PhD from the Department of South Asian Languages and Civilizations at the University of Chicago. Her areas of interest are Indian epics, mythology and the story traditions of the subcontinent. Her articles appear in various national newspapers and magazines. Her translation of Tales from the Kathāsaritasāgara was published by Penguin in 1995.

  PENGUIN EVERGREENS

  The Penguin Evergreens are collections of classic stories—fiction and non-fiction—that build on Penguin’s original paperback mission of publishing the best books for everyone to enjoy. The Evergreens are drawn from Penguin’s wide-ranging list of classics and bestsellers by some of the most recognized writers in the Indian Subcontinent.

  The first list of books is

  The Mark of Vishnu: Stories, Khushwant Singh

  Building a New India, A.P.J. Abdul Kalam

  My Experiments with Truth, M.K. Gandhi

  Feluda: Stories, Satyajit Ray

  Kabuliwallah: Stories, Rabindranath Tagore

  Kamasutra: Selections, Vatsyayana

  The Mahabharata: Droupadi’s Marriage and Other Selections, Vyasa

  Malgudi: Stories, R.K. Narayan

  Valmiki Ramayana: The Book of Wilderness

  The Jungle Book, Rudyard Kipling

  The Kitemaker: Stories, Ruskin Bond

  The Quilt: Stories, Ismat Chughtai

  The Shroud: Stories, Premchand

  Toba Tek Singh: Stories, Saadat Hasan Manto

  One

  When Rāma entered the mighty Daṇḍaka forest, he saw that it was inhabited by deer and various other animals, including bears and tigers. The trees in the forest had been enveloped by enormous creepers and vines and none of its ponds and lakes had been looked after. The birds were silent and the only sound that filled the air was the chirping of crickets.

  In that forest which was the home of all kinds of fierce animals, Rāma came upon a huge rākṣasa who fed on human flesh. The rākṣasa, with his sunken eyes and huge maw, roared like thunder. His limbs were twisted and deformed, his huge belly quivered and shook when he moved and he was terrifying to look at. This awful creature, who wore a tiger skin dripping with blood and fat, tormented all the forest animals. He had three lions, four tigers, two wolves, ten deer and an elephant’s head, it’s tusk still smeared with gore, impaled upon the point of his spear as he came rushing towards Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā.

  Looking like Death, the rākṣasa charged at them and his roar made the earth tremble. He grabbed Sītā and tucked her under his arm. ‘You are in the forest with the matted hair of an ascetic. But you have brought your wife with you!’ he shouted. ‘Consider your life at an end! You have entered the Daṇḍaka forest armed with bows and arrows! How can you live an ascetic’s life when you have a woman with you? Who are you, unrighteous men, who malign the life led by the great sages?

  ‘I am the rākṣasa Virādha. Every day, I wander through this dense forest preying on sages and eating their flesh. This beautiful woman shall be my wife! And I shall drink the blood of both you wretched creatures on the battlefield!’ Sītā trembled like a slender banana plant in a high wind when she heard the rākṣasa’s terrible words.

  ‘Look, Lakṣmaṇa,’ said Rāma, his face pale as he saw his wife under the rākṣasa’s arm. ‘This beautiful princess, the delicate daughter of Janaka and my lovely wife, who has been reared with every comfort imaginable, is being forced to sit on Virādha’s hip. What Kaikeyī wished for when she asked for her boons has come to pass all too soon! Not satisfied with the kingdom for her own son, she sent me, whom everybody loves, into the forest. That mother of mine has been granted her wish today! I cannot bear the thought of Sītā being touched by another man. It upsets me more than the death of my father and the loss of my kingdom!’

  Rāma broke into tears as he said this but Lakṣmaṇa was enraged and burst out, hissing in his anger, ‘Rāma! You are Indra’s equal and the lord of all creatures! How can you act so helpless! You have nothing to fear when I am at your service. I shall kill this rākṣasa with my arrows and the earth shall drink his blood. I shall direct the anger that I feel for Bharata over the loss of the kingdom towards this creature, just as Indra turned his anger upon the mountains. My mighty arms shall release an arrow with great force. May it drive the breath from his body and leave him lifeless upon the ground!’

  ‘Who are you and where are you going?’ asked Virādha in a voice that filled the entire forest. ‘Tell me, I must know!’ Rāma replied that they were from the Ikṣvāku clan. ‘We are virtuous kṣatriyas who have come to spend some time in the forest. Who are you and why do you wander through this forest?’ he asked the rākṣasa who blazed like a fire.

  ‘Is that what you want to know?’ said Virādha. ‘Listen, then, and I will tell you! I am the son of Jaya and my mother is Śatahṛdā. I am known to all the rākṣasas on earth as Virādha. Brahmā gave me a boon because of all the austerities I performed. There is no weapon on earth that can maim, cut or pierce me! Leave this woman with me and go from this place with no further expectations. Return to where you came from. I shall not kill you!’

  Rāma’s eyes blazed with anger as he shouted back at the rākṣasa who had bloodshot eyes and wicked intentions. ‘Shame on you for your base motives! You are obviously seeking death. Stand and fight with me and you shall certainly find it!’ Rāma fitted his straightest and sharpest arrows into his bow. Seven gold-tipped arrows blazed like tongues of flame as they flew with the speed of the wind, resounding through the air. They pierced the rākṣasa’s body and he fell to the earth. Virādha let out a deafening roar. He seemed like death with his mouth wide open and his spear that was as huge as Indra’s flagstaff. Rāma, the best among all those who fight with weapons, split Virādha’s spear with two arrows as it came through the air like a thunderbolt. Then, Lakṣmaṇa quickly cut off his right arm and Rāma his left one.

  The rākṣasa, who was as dark as a cloud, fell to the earth with his arms hacked off, like a mountain felled by a thunderbolt. ‘I knew that you were Rāma, the illustrious son of Kausalyā, and that this was the virtuous Sītā and that the famous Lakṣmaṇa,’ said Virādha to the brothers. ‘I am actually the gandharva Tumburu. I have this hideous rākṣasa body because I was cursed by Kubera. When I begged his forgiveness, he generously said I would be liberated when Rāma, son of Daśaratha,
killed me in combat, and I would recover my natural state and return to heaven.

  ‘Now I have been freed from this awful curse by you. I shall return to my own home. May all go well with you! The great sage Śarabhanga lives close by, less than one and a half yojanās from here. He is as effulgent as the sun. Go to him quickly, for he shall ensure your welfare. As for me, throw me into a pit. That is the primordial ritual for a dying rākṣasa. Those who are buried in pits shall attain worlds of everlasting happiness.’ Virādha was overcome with pain from his wounds as he spoke. He was ready to go to heaven, waiting only to be released from his body. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa hurled him into a deep pit and the rākṣasa with ears like conch shells howled as he fell.

  Now that they had recovered Sītā and the incident with the rākṣasa was behind them, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa went deeper into the forest with their golden arrows, shining like the sun and the moon in the sky.

  Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā visited the settlements of many sages in the forest, including the hermitages of Śarabhanga and Sutīkṣṇa. Wherever he went, the sages pleaded with Rāma to protect them from the harassment of the rākṣasas. Rāma promised that he would kill any and all the rākṣasas who bothered the sages.

  When Rāma had said farewell to Sutīkṣṇa and they were proceeding on their way, Sītā spoke gently to her husband. ‘You are a man of great deeds and when you consider the matter carefully, I am sure you will see that dharma is very subtle.

  ‘There are three major weaknesses that arise from desire. One is telling lies. The other two are much worse: one is lusting after another man’s wife and the other is cruelty without a justified cause for hostility. You have never lied, Rāma, nor will you ever do so. You do not covet the wives of others and you have not acted in violation of dharma. These things would only be done by a man who has no control over his senses. I know you are perfectly disciplined.

  ‘But the third weakness which men succumb to because of their passions, the inflicting of violence and cruelty upon other beings without reason or enmity, that weakness appears to be present in you now. You have promised to kill the rākṣasas in combat in order to protect the sages who live in the Daṇḍaka forest. This has brought you and your brother to this forest, armed with your bows and arrows.

  ‘It disturbs me a great deal when I see you like this. I know you well and I am concerned about your welfare now and in the future. Our journey into the Daṇḍaka forest makes me anxious and I am not comfortable. Listen and I will tell you why.

  ‘Now that you are here with your brother and both of you are armed, you shall see many forest creatures. Inevitably, you will be tempted to use your arrows. Like dry fuel bursts into flame when it is near a fire, so too, a kṣatriya’s passions are ignited when he has a bow at hand.

  ‘Long ago, there was an ascetic who lived somewhere in a forest which was filled with birds and animals who dwelt together in peace. But Indra wanted to place obstacles in the path of the ascetic’s practise of austerities. So one day he took the form of a soldier and carrying a sword, he went to see the ascetic. He left the sword with the ascetic for safe-keeping and went away. Once he had the weapon, the ascetic guarded it zealously. He even took it with him when he wandered through the forest searching for roots and fruits, determined to guard what had been entrusted to him. That man who had been known for his ascetic merit renounced his ascetic vows and his mind turned to cruelty. He began to relish brutality and he fell into unrighteous ways. Eventually, that holy man went to hell, all because of his proximity to a weapon.

  ‘I am reminding you of this tale not because I presume to instruct you but because I love and respect you. May it never happen that you attack the rākṣasas of the forest without reason, simply because you carry a weapon. I cannot bear the thought of innocents being killed, O hero! A kṣatriya should use his bow in the forest only to protect the oppressed. What a difference there is between the life of weapons and that of the forest, between the vows of a kṣatriya and those of an ascetic! We must learn to respect the code of behaviour of the world we now inhabit. Here, the mind is perverted by extreme proximity to weapons. You can return to the code of the kṣatriyas when we go back to Ayodhyā!

  ‘But if you were to give up the kingdom entirely and embrace the life of an ascetic, I am sure that my parents-in-law would be very happy. Everything in this world, including wealth and happiness, come from dharma. There is nothing greater than dharma. Great men strive for dharma by subjecting themselves to severe physical mortifications, since true happiness cannot come from the pursuit of pleasure.

  ‘Enjoy the beauties of the forest with a pure mind, my love. You already know all there is to be known in the three worlds about these things. I have spoken from the foolishness of being a woman. Who is capable of teaching you anything about dharma? Discuss what I have said with your brother and then do whatever you think best.’

  ‘My dear, you have spoken sweetly for my benefit because you love me,’ said Rāma who always stood firm in dharma. ‘Your words show that you are truly worthy of your noble family. But I must remind you of what you yourself said, that kṣatriyas are armed so that the cries of the oppressed may never be heard. Those resolute sages who live in the forest are being tormented. They are the refuge of other beings, and yet they are the ones who approached me for protection. They live quietly in the forest, eating only roots and fruits, intent on practising their dharma. But they can no longer live in peace because of the rākṣasas’ wicked deeds.

  ‘The sages live in the forest all through the year, practising austerities, but they are preyed upon by man-eating rākṣasas. The sages approached me of their own accord. The best among them spoke to me and I was deeply embarrassed. “Forgive me,” I said. “I am truly ashamed that people like yourselves, whom I should be serving, have had to come to me.” I asked them what they wanted me to do. In one voice they replied, “Rāma, we are being horribly harassed by the rākṣasas who live in the Daṇḍaka forest and who can change their shapes at will. You must protect us from their attacks. They descend upon us when we are performing sacrifices. These wretched carrion-eaters assault us during the time of the new moon and the full moon. You are the only refuge for these tormented sages! Of course, we could easily destroy them with the power of our austerities. But we would be nullifying our long years of penance by doing so. Austerities are so difficult and there are so many obstacles in our way in any case! So even though the rākṣasas harass us, we do not curse them. You and your brother must help us. We have no other protector in the forest!”

  ‘I promised the sages of the Daṇḍaka forest that I would protect them, Sītā. And now that I have given them my word, I cannot go back on it as long as there is a single breath left in my body. You know that truth is dear to me! I could more easily give up my life or renounce you or Lakṣmaṇa than break a promise, especially one that I have made to brahmins! It is my duty to protect holy men under any circumstances. Now it is even more so because they have asked for my protection.

  ‘I am glad you said what you did, for you spoke out of love. We never give advice to those we do not care for. Dear girl, your words were typical of your noble character and your family background!’

  Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā wandered through the forest pleasantly, spending time with the many sages there, and finally arrived at the settlement of the great ṛṣi Agastya. Lakṣmaṇa went up to one of Agastya’s students. ‘The eldest son of King Daśaratha, mighty Rāma, has arrived here with his wife Sītā and wishes to meet the great sage. I am his younger brother Lakṣmaṇa. You may have heard about us. I am devoted to Rāma and committed to doing what will make him happy. We are here in this terrible forest because of our father’s wishes. Tell the sage we would like to see him.’

  The student went into the ritual chamber to announce Rāma’s arrival to the sage whose power from austerities was truly awesome. ‘The sons of Daśaratha, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, have come here along with Rāma’s wife Sīt
ā,’ said the student, repeating Lakṣmaṇa’s words. ‘They wish to see you and serve you. What shall I tell them?’

  ‘How wonderful that Rāma has come to see me!’ exclaimed the resplendent sage. ‘I have waited a long time for him to come here. Why did you not let them enter immediately? Go quickly and bring him in! Show all due respect to him, his brother and his wife.’ The student bowed and went out to do the sage’s bidding. ‘Where is Rāma?’ he asked Lakṣmaṇa eagerly. ‘He must go in at once and meet the sage!’

  Lakṣmaṇa led the student to the settlement gates and pointed Rāma and Sītā out to him. With great respect, the student repeated Agastya’s words to Rāma and escorted him and Sītā in with full honours. Rāma walked through the settlement and saw that it was filled with tame deer. He also noticed that there were shrines dedicated to the worship of Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Indra, the Sun, the Moon, Bhaga, Kubera, Dhatṛ, Vidhat● and Vāyu.

  Rāma looked up and saw the great sage, blazing with splendour, surrounded by his students and disciples, coming forward to greet him. ‘Look, Lakṣmaṇa! That must be Agastya coming towards us. I assume that it is he because of the shining aura that surrounds him.’ Filled with joy, Rāma prostrated himself at the feet of the sage who shone like the sun, and honoured him. Then he stood to one side with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā, his palms joined in reverence. Agastya accepted Rāma’s homage and welcomed him with the traditional arghya ritual. He asked after his welfare and offered him a seat. The sage made offerings to the fire and treated Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā as honoured guests, plying them with food that was appropriate for ascetics.

  ‘Rāma, this bow decorated with gold and jewels belonged to Viṣṇu and was made for him by Viśvakarmā. This arrow, best of all arrows, was given to me by Brahmā. It shines like the sun and never misses its mark. And these inexhaustible quivers were given to me by Indra along with this mighty gold-hilted sword in this exquisite sheath. Long ago, Viṣṇu used this bow to kill the asuras and recapture power for the gods. Take these weapons from me and use them to vanquish your enemies as Indra uses the thunderbolt!’ said Agastya as he handed the weapons to Rāma.