The Ramayana (100 page)

“It is only in the kali yuga, when dharma survives only on one foot, and evil has sway over the earth, having set three monstrous feet upon it, shall the sudra perform tapasya. For there is no sin, say the wise, as heinous as for the sudra to sit in dhyana in our yuga.”

Narada paused, then said very quietly into the fallen silence, “Yet, Rama, a sudra sits in long and fervent tapasya on the very hem of your kingdom. And by his dhyana, the shadow of sin has fallen over us all, even you. His forbidden tapasya has killed the brahmana's child. For you, O King, partake in a sixth portion of every pious deed and every crime committed in your kingdom. And because of this sudra's dhyana, you have incurred sin.

“You must go to him and right this wrong.”

For a long moment, Rama gazed at the muni, Brahma's son, born when the earth was made; and he knew exactly what Narada meant that he should do. A chill gripped his heart as he said, “I will right the wrong, my lord.”

Narada smiled grimly, “And the brahmana's son shall live again.”

 

35. The death of a sudra

Rama said to Lakshmana, “My brother, go and comfort the brahmana. Have a tub of oil drawn and let his child's body be preserved in it.”

Rama came out into the sun and stood briefly in prayer in his palace yard. With a silent mantra, he summoned the pushpaka vimana. At once the crystal ship appeared in the sky and alighted near the king.

The shining stairway was unfurled at Rama's feet, and he climbed aboard. Rama carried his bow and quiver, and a sword. At his very thought, the vimana rose steeply away from the ground and flitted westward, above heavy emerald forests, and then turned north subtly, to fly toward the Himalaya laid like a pale necklace across Bhumi Devi's throat.

It is told that, all the way he flew, Rama did not see a single sin being committed in his lands. West, north, and east he flew, and nowhere did he see any taint of adharma below him, but a pure world, with his grace permeating the sacred earth and the hearts of men.

At last he turned the pushpaka vimana to the south. Drawn surely by instinct, the enchanted ship came to the Saivala mountain, upon whose northern shoulder a great lake sparkled as if its waters were strewn with a million gemstones. Peering down, Rama saw a nyagrodha tree, a sire of its race that grew beside the water. And standing upon his head in sirasasana below that tree, in intense tapasya, he saw an emaciated ascetic, with jata and a long beard and his eyes shut fast.

Rama set the vimana down on the ground. He alighted from it and approached the strange hermit. Folding his hands to the yogin, Rama said, “I am Rama of Ayodhya. Tell me, Sannyasi, why do you perform such a trying tapasya? Is it for some boon? Or to attain Devaloka? You stand on your head, O Yogin; your tapasya is rare and stern. Tell me, are you a brahmana or a kshatriya? Or are you, perhaps, a vaisya? You could not be a sudra, Muni; for a sudra never sits in dhyana.”

The ascetic did not move from his asana. But he opened his deep black eyes briefly, and answered Rama in a level voice, “I am a sudra, Rama; my name is Sambuka. And I stand upon my head in dhyana because I want to conquer Devaloka and be Lord of the four quarters.”

Sambuka shut his eyes again and was lost in meditation. Rama stood numb before the hermit. Then he folded his hands once more to the absorbed Sambuka, drew his sword, and cleanly severed the sudra's head from his body.

Suddenly the sky was full of lustrous presences. Indra, Agni, and the entire host of Devaloka appeared as bright shadows on high. Fragrant petal rain fell on the avenging Avatara. The Devas cried that he had done well to end Sambuka's dreadful sin. But as he wiped his blade clean on some long grass, Rama had tears in his eyes.

Bowing to destiny, he said aloud, “If I have indeed done well, let the brahmana's son have life again.”

Agni Deva said to Rama, “The moment the sudra was killed the brahmana's son breathed again. But now, Rama, we want to visit Agastya Muni in his asrama. He has slept on water for twelve years, and today his tapasya is complete.”

Rama and the Devas arrived at Agastya's asrama in their vimanas and he worshipped them all. The Devas blessed him, and then vanished from the sky. Agastya said to Rama, “Stay this night with me, Rama.”

The rishi went into his hut and came out with a small bundle of dark silk. When Rama unwrapped the silk, he saw a jewel that shone as if the light of a crimson star had been captured within it. Agastya said, “This was fashioned by Viswakarman, Rama. In all this world, only you are fit to wear it. It will bring great fortune to you and to all your kingdom.”

Rama bent his head and Agastya fastened the red gemstone around his neck by its golden chain. Rama asked, “What is this stone, Mahamuni? It fills me with such peace, such power!”

Agastya said, “Once, in the krita yuga, the men of the earth had no king. They went to Brahma and said, ‘Pitamaha, Indra rules Devaloka, but we have no sovereign to guide our destinies. Give us also a king, Brahma. We have decided we must have someone to rule over us, someone as great as Indra.'

“Brahma summoned the Lokapalas, the masters of the four quarters, Indra, Varuna, Kubera, and Yama, and said to those Devas, ‘Each of you give me a portion of your authority.'

“The guardians gave him a part of their power. As he received the majesty of the four Gods, Brahma sneezed. A splendid king appeared from his sneeze and he was called Kshupa. Brahma invested him with the power of the four Devas, and made him lord of the earth.

“Kshupa ruled with the power given him by Indra. He nurtured his people by the grace given him by Varuna. He shared with them the wealth and glory which he had from Kubera, and he punished them when they sinned, using the power of Yama.”

Agastya Muni said, “Rama, now you are king of this earth. All the power of Kshupa is vested in you. The power of Indra, Yama, Kubera, and Varuna is vested in you. This jewel is the power of Indra. Keep it from now, Kshatriya, and let my spirit find its final peace.”

The gem shone on Rama's chest as the sun does in the sky. Rama asked, “Where did you get this stone from, Muni?”

Agastya's eyes were full of light, the light of another age. He said, “It was in the treta yuga that I got this jewel, Rama. Then, there was a jungle here in Bharatavarsha, a hundred yojanas long and wide, and no living creature dwelt in it, no beasts and no birds. No men lived there either, only the trees. I sat in tapasya in that vana.

“How shall I describe to you how wonderful the trees of those times were, how brilliant their leaves were, or how ambrosial their fruit? They were the sires of the trees that live in the world today, and they were closer to heaven. In the very heart of that forest, there was a lake, one yojana wide on every side. Only on its waters would you find duck, teal, swan, ibis, and chakravakas.

“A feast of lotuses and water lilies mantled its surface, blooms in colors you no longer see in this darkening world, Rama. Beside this lake, there was an ancient asrama. No one knew when it had been wrought, for it had not been built by any human being and no one lived in that hermitage.

“One summer's night, I found myself beside the lake and spent the night in that asrama. The next morning, I rose with the sun and went to the lake for my morning ablutions. I saw a corpse floating on the water, a plump, white, naked corpse. I stood rooted, staring at the body, when, all at once, the sky seemed to be lit by another sun, and a vimana flew down, yoked to the most incredible swans.

“In that open vimana, I saw an immortal, and with him were a hundred gandharvas and apsaras. They sang in unearthly voices; some danced by the first light of the sun, even as if this were the first day of creation. Perfect mridangas and vinas I heard, and from them unearthly music flowed.

“Rama, as I stood watching, unable to move, the lord of the vimana rose from his golden seat, even like the sun on the crest of the eastern mountain. He alighted from his ship of the sky and drew the corpse in the lake toward him with occult power. And then, I could not believe my eyes: he devoured that corpse, licking up its blood that leaked down his fine chin, crunching its bones, sucking out their marrow, chewing raptly on the flesh and plentiful white fat that decked them.

“When he had finished, and he discarded only a few shreds of skin, hair, and bone, he went down to the water and bathed, long and thoroughly, and all the while I saw that he wept. As he returned to his vimana, I emerged from where I had hidden myself to watch him, and said, ‘Who are you, O Godlike? How is it that someone as noble as yourself feeds on dead human flesh?'

“I spoke in great wonder, my heart churning within me, for never had I seen such a strange thing. He folded his hands respectfully to me, and said in chaste, high language, ‘Brahmana, I am the son of King Vaidarbha, whose name was known throughout the three worlds as Sudeva. He had two wives, and a son by each. I am Sweta, his eldest, and my younger brother was called Suratha.

“‘When my father died, our people crowned me king and I ruled to the best of my lights and ability. A thousand years passed, O Muni, in peace and plenty. For I remained within the bounds of dharma, as well as I possibly could. When the thousand years given me to be king passed, I came here into this forest to sit in dhyana, before death came for me. Before I took vanaprastha, I made my brother Suratha king.

“‘I lived here beside this lake—the asrama you slept in last night was mine—and for three thousand years I performed tapasya. By my long penance, I gained Brahmaloka, the highest of all the realms. But when I ascended into that lofty loka, leaving my body behind on earth, searing thirst and raging hunger afflicted me.

“‘I asked Brahma, “Pitamaha, your realm is free of hunger and thirst. Then why do I suffer like this? Tell me, Lord, what can I eat? For there is no food here.”

“‘Brahma said to me, “Son of Sudeva, you have nourished your own body with a long tapasya. Yet you have never given any charity these past three thousand years. So eat your own flesh, Sweta, drink your own blood: to quench your hunger and your thirst.”

“‘I stood startled before the Pitamaha's throne. This was no less than a curse. Brahma continued, “One day, Agastya Muni will deliver you from your hunger and thirst. Till then, devour your own body, Sweta. Do not worry, your flesh will be inexhaustible. Again and again you shall eat it, and it will never perish.”'

“He pointed to the lake, and when I looked again at the clear water, the plump, white, and naked body floated there again, as if it had not been consumed, gristle and marrow, just a short while ago. Sweta said, ‘For many years now, I have been slaking my hunger and thirst on that body every day; but it reappears each time, and once more I devour it.'

“Then he took a bright ornament he wore around his neck, and pressed it into my hand. Sweta said, ‘Lord Agastya, greatest among brahmanas, I beg you, deliver me from this terrible curse. I offer you everything I own. I offer you all my wealth and my punya too. Release me from hunger and thirst. Set me free so I never have to return to this earth. I long to range through the realms of heaven, but I am cruelly bound, Muni.'

“In pity, I took the scarlet jewel from the suffering king, and at once, the white body vanished from the lake. An expression of untold relief suffused Sweta's face. He bowed deeply to me, ascended his vimana again and flitted away like a thought into the sky, never to return.

“Rama, this jewel that has Indra's power in it was given me by King Sweta, for releasing him from Brahma's curse.”

 

36. Bhargava's curse

Rama asked, “Muni, when I was in exile, long ago, you told me something about a cursed forest where no bird or beast came, and no rishis. Was this the vana where you met King Sweta? What was the curse, Agastya?”

The rishi, whom even the Devas worshipped, said, “I did not tell you the entire tale. But listen to it now, Rama, if you have a mind to. In the krita yuga, Manu was lord of the earth, its sovereign. His son was Ikshvaku, who was a joy to all his family.

“When a great deal of time passed—and in that yuga men lived much longer than the men of today—Manu sought Brahmaloka for himself. Before he attained samadhi, he set Ikshvaku on his throne, and said to him; ‘Be the sire of all the royal houses of the earth.'

“Ikshvaku said he would do as his father asked. Then Manu said, ‘Be just in judging your people and punishing them if they err. Consider every crime and its punishment well, consult the Shastras and think deeply. For this is a king's first dharma, and only this can lead him to heaven.'

“Manu blessed his son, and left his mortal body. Ikshvaku fell to thinking, ‘How shall I father sons?'

“In diverse and magical ways, he created a hundred sons, all of them magnificent as Devas. But the hundredth prince, Danda, was full of ignorance and darkness. He did not serve his father or his elders. Indeed, he became known as Danda because everyone felt sure that some dreadful punishment would come to such a dull being, to enliven him.

“Ikshvaku was fearful for Danda and gave him a part of the earth to be his kingdom, so perhaps he would mend. He gave him all the lands that lay between the Vindhyas and Saivala mountains. Ikshvaku sent his finest builders to make a city for his son to rule from. Danda's city was called Madhumanta, and he chose Usanas, Sukra Deva, to be his guru.

“The blessings and grace of the great Sukra seemed to guide Danda's fortunes for a while, and Madhumanta was like a city of the Gods upon the earth. Its men and women were pious and beautiful; their spirits and bodies, their very lives were lit with dharma. Danda's own nature seemed to have undergone a profound change, and it appeared that his father's decision to make him a king had transformed that prince.

“For ten thousand years Danda ruled with immaculate restraint and growing wisdom, and there was no other king or kingdom in Bharatavarsha to match his. Then, one day, in the fullness of his glory, Danda decided to visit the asrama of his guru, Sukra Bhargava, in the heart of the jungle that surrounded Madhumanta. It was spring, the month of Chaitra.