The Ramayana (52 page)

Sita shuddered to think of herself there.

Hanuman went on, “I saw many lovely women there, but none that was as sad as I knew you would be. I saw Ravana asleep on his crystal bed; I saw his queen nearby him. But I did not see you and I despaired. Then, as I sat on a pillar wondering how to end my life, a shaft of the setting moon pierced my eye and this garden at once. And suddenly, a great hope was upon me.

“I searched the asokavana for a long time but I did not find you, and my heart sank again—until I climbed this tree and saw the little temple. I crept up to the white pillars, then I saw you; and when I saw how you wept, I knew you were Rama's love. The rest of the night I spent in this shimshupa tree. By the light of dawn, I watched Ravana arrive and saw you keep him away. I grieved for you; but I dared not attack Ravana: if I was killed, who would take news of you back to Rama?”

Hanuman stood before Sita with his hands still folded, and he saw tears start in her eyes again. But these were tears of relief; he saw she did not doubt him any more. He said, “Rama sent this ring to you, so you could trust me.”

He stepped forward and shyly pressed the signet ring into her hands. Tears streamed again from her eyes, dripping onto the golden thing that lay in her palm. She felt Rama so near her that she might touch him.

She cried to Hanuman, “Forgive me that I doubted you. I have been the Rakshasa's prisoner for so long that my faith has worn thin. Rama gave you this ring, or you would not have had it. I know he would never give it to just anyone, but only to one whom he trusted entirely. I see by your deeds that he was not mistaken; not the yawning sea, not Ravana and his rakshasas could keep you from finding me. Even when I received you with suspicion, you did not flinch from your mission. O Hanuman, I thank you.”

Hanuman bowed solemnly to her, and a delighted smile lit his face. Sita continued, “Now I have no doubt that Rama will come for me, with Lakshmana beside him. And then not Ravana, not the host of the Devas could stand against them. I have wondered that I did not already see my husband's astras burning up Lanka's sky. But then I thought it was my fate to bear my suffering patiently, and the agony I have endured was written for me before I was born.

“Hanuman, since he did not come for me all this while, the evil thought crossed my mind that perhaps Rama had stopped loving me. You don't know how happy I am that you have plucked that fear from my heart. I have my faith back now, and the strength to bear Ravana's torments for as long as I must. For as I look into his fearsome face, I will know that sooner than he dreams, he will lie dead and his rakshasas' blood will stain the earth.

“Oh Hanuman, I hope my husband has not lost heart?”

Hanuman said, “He did not forget you or lose heart; he did not know where you were. Now, as soon as I return to Kishkinda, Rama will come to Lanka. Sita, he is grief-stricken without you; he cries incessantly. How can you ever think he has forgotten you? He lives with Lakshmana in a cave on the mountain called Prasravana. When he wakes, it is with your name on his lips. And Lakshmana said to me, when Rama falls asleep, exhausted, he still whispers your name, over and over. If he sees any sight in the forest that pleases him, he tells you about it, shares it with you. Not for a moment are you away from Rama's thoughts; just as I see that not for a moment is he out of yours.”

Sita glowed. But she bit her lip, and her eyes filled again when she thought of Rama, that he was so far from her and heartbroken. She said, “Hanuman, when I hear he thinks of me, I am full of joy. But when I hear he grieves for me, I know the hell he must be in, and I am full of care for him. All this suffering is because of our karma of past births. The joy we have in this one, and the depths of grief, are wages for what we have done in lives gone by. No one, not Rama nor you nor I, escapes the fruit of karma, be they sweet or so bitter that they destroy us.”

Hanuman marveled at her gentle wisdom, though her eyes flowed tears as if they were her life.

“Just think of Rama today, Hanuman. He has an ocean to cross and the rakshasa army to defeat before he can have me back. Like a boat lashed by a storm, my prince is tossed on fate's hostile tides. It is six months since Ravana brought me here.”

She sighed. “Time is against us. Ravana has a wise brother called Vibheeshana, who tells him that he should take me back to Rama. But Ravana is blinded by fate, as if his death calls him urgently. Vibheeshana has a daughter called Anala and she told me this. When faith moves my heart, O vanara, I feel certain Rama will come to Lanka, kill the Rakshasa, and save me. But here in this city of darkness, faith is mostly far from me and my despair always near. And I fear my life is a ruined thing just for my having been here.

“Yet deep in my heart I always know my Rama's love is beyond being affected by time and its trials: that despite everything, the sorrow and the ocean, he will come and take me back.”

Hanuman grieved for her. “Rama will be here sooner than you think. But if you like, I can take you out of here today upon my back. I could carry Lanka across the sea if I wanted.”

Sita looked at the little monkey, and suddenly her laughter tinkled in that garden. “It is sweet of you to speak so bravely, Hanuman. But I think you are a little small to carry me out of here on your back.”

Hanuman smiled serenely. “Devi, I am the son of the wind.”

In a flash, he stood before her for just a moment in his other, awesome form, his golden hair brushing the sky.

Sita breathed, “O Vayuputra, you are greater than you say or I had dreamed. Small wonder Rama chose you to bear his ring to me. But I am afraid to go with you. Though Ravana brought me here through the sky, I am terrified by flight. Suppose I fell from your back? No, we must not risk such danger.

“More important, dear Hanuman, my heart insists that Rama must come to Lanka and slay its Rakshasa. There is no other reason that I am here, suffering like this. Ravana is part of our destiny and destiny must take its course. Rama must come to Lanka and kill Ravana, whose power stretches deeper and farther than we imagine. Then dharma will be established on earth, and Rama will be a king, as he was born to be.

“Besides, I would rather die at once than try to escape and be captured again.” She looked down shyly and added, “Also, good Hanuman, you must forgive me, but I am Rama's wife and it isn't proper for me to cling to you while we cross the sea. It is true that Ravana held me as he flew through the sky; but that was by force and he will pay for it with his life.”

She paused again, and great dreams lit her sad eyes. “Dharma is for Rama to rescue me himself. Cross the ocean alone, good Hanuman, and bring Rama back to Lanka. Let there be war, a dharma yuddha, as is honorable, and let my husband win me back. Fate has not brought me to this pass to escape like a coward. Rama must come and kill Ravana in battle. Then my sorrow will end.”

She fell quiet and somber at these thoughts. Hanuman smiled to hear her speak so bravely. Knowing she was not alone had restored her courage beyond his expectation. He had a glimpse of the strength of her character, and he thought that here, indeed, was Rama's wife: she who suffered in the asokavana for the sins of the world, that it might be redeemed from the Rakshasa by her anguish. Why, Sita was like her mother, the Earth: she was Ravana's prisoner.

Hanuman said, “What you say is just; no one but Rama should touch you. I will fly back and tell him he has two months to rescue you. Have you a message for him, something by which he will believe that I have indeed seen you?”

 

10. The choodamani

Sita said, “Say to Rama, good Hanuman, that Sita reminds him of the day he lay asleep with his head in my lap, on Chitrakuta, on the banks of the Mandakini. A crow swooped down and pecked me. I threw a stone at the bird, but it came back again. It flew cawing above my head and repeatedly it plunged down to peck me.

“When he heard me cry out, Rama awoke. He saw my blouse had slipped from my shoulders and my face was flushed. He laughed, saying I had let a crow frighten me. The crow flapped away and perched in a tree some distance away. Rama went back to sleep, and the bird flew at me again. It swooped down thrice and raked my breast with its claws. Some drops of my blood fell on Rama's face, and he awoke.

“When he saw my blood, Rama pulled up a blade of darbha grass and invoked the brahmastra. That crow was Indra's son. Coming alive in a flash of fire, the brahmastra flew from Rama's hands and hunted the black bird through the sky. He flew quickly as a thought, but the astra stayed behind him, singeing his tail feathers; the moment he stopped, it could consume him. Through the three worlds that crow flew. At last, panting and terrified, Indra's son came and fell sobbing at Rama's feet.

“Rama said, ‘I would forgive you, Deva, but what about the brahmastra? It must have its prey.'

“Growing into a figure of light, tall as the sky, that son of Indra said, ‘Let it have my left eye!'

“So the brahmastra put out the dark bird's eye, big as a planet, and the ayudha was appeased. Indra's son fell at our feet again, saying he had been sent by his father to test the Avatara. He begged our forgiveness and returned where he had come from. Remind Rama of that incident, Hanuman. If he could send the brahmastra after a crow that pecked me, what will he do to Ravana who holds me his prisoner and torments me?”

Her eyes glinted. “Tell Rama that Sita asks why he has forgotten her. Why is Ravana still alive after what he has done? What does Lakshmana say to this, who is as much a warrior as his brother? For all their valor, and being matchless kshatriyas, they cannot comfort me in my misery. It must surely be the sins of my past lives that have come to roost in this one.”

Her fine shoulders shook as she wept again.

Hanuman said, “Indifference does not keep the brothers from Lanka. If you saw how poor Rama suffers without you, all your doubts would vanish. Let me fly back to him now and he will be here swiftly. Ravana's corpse will adorn the earth and Lanka will be a heap of ashes, blowing in the sea wind.”

Sita said, “Touch Rama's feet for me. Bless the noble Lakshmana, who is the rarest treasure on earth. Tell them I will survive in this place for another month, but not a day longer. After a month, Sita will be dead. Rama must come to Lanka before the moon returns to the nakshatra where he is tonight. Or he may never see me alive again.”

Sita wiped her eyes. She untied a knot in one end of her yellow garment, and took out the choodamani she once wore in her hair. She gave it to Hanuman, who received it, bowing. His face lit up, and he circled round her in pradakshina.

Sita said to the vanara, “Give this to Rama. He knows it well. When he sees it, he will think of my mother, of his father Dasaratha, and of me: memories of us three are upon its jewel. Everything depends on you, Hanuman; my life is in your hands.”

Hanuman bowed again to her. Again, Sita said to him, “Touch my Rama's feet for me. Tell him he has one month to come to my rescue.”

Hanuman heard her out patiently while now she repeated herself, time and again, anxiously. At last he said, “Rama will be here sooner than you expect.”

Then, thinking of the vanara gone, she cried, “Must you go today? Can't you stay another day and leave tomorrow?”

Hanuman looked uncomfortable. Sita sighed, “I will miss you when you have gone; you have lit my despair with a ray of hope. But I know that the sooner you leave the sooner Rama will come with the vanara army.”

She bit her lip, as another unthinkable doubt rose in her mind. “Hanuman, how will an army of your people cross the yawning sea into Lanka? Vayu, Garuda, and Hanuman may cross the waves. But how will the others come? For that matter, how will Rama?”

Hanuman said quietly, “The vanaras who serve King Sugriva are a magical people. We have ranged the earth. Nothing can stop us; not rivers or mountains, jungles or oceans. There are many in Sugriva's army who are my equals, and many more who are greater than I. Between us, we will devise a way to cross the ocean. Devi, remember the march of dharma is always inexorable. As for Rama and Lakshmana, they will sit right here on my back, one on each shoulder, and fly over the waves to land in Lanka. Let your spirit be at peace; we will come for you.”

“Like gentle rain on a field of green shoots has your coming been to me, kind Hanuman. Remind Rama of another time when we were alone and my tilaka was rubbed away. Remind him of how he took the dust of the manasila stone, and marked my brow with it. Oh, how does he live without me? Here, each moment my life is ready to seep out of me, since my eyes do not see his face. Only with a great effort do I hold it back.”

 

11. The terrible vanara

Hanuman knew how short his time was. He prostrated himself, his little monkey's form at Sita's feet. When she had blessed him, he rose, and his eyes were full of promises and tears. He bowed again to her, deeply, and then he left her. When Hanuman had not gone far, a thought struck him with some force.

He said to himself, “I crossed the ocean to find Sita and I have found her, nobler than I had imagined, and sadder too. But I must not leave Lanka like a thief. I must make my presence felt. I must strike some fear into the hearts of these rakshasas. The best soldier is the one who achieves more than he was told to.

“I have already done what I was sent for. I have leaped the waves, found Sita, and given her the ring Rama sent. But how much more I will accomplish if I provoke the rakshasa army and discover how strong it is. How much cleverer I will be if I can meet Ravana face to face!”

He knew it was dangerous, but an inner voice urged him to be a little rash. Hanuman decided impulsively, “This asokavana must be Ravana's favorite garden. That is why he has kept Sita here. Let me ruin this pretty garden, with its clipped plants and trees. When Ravana hears of it, he will send his guard to attack me. When I crush that force, the Rakshasa will tremble on his throne. For if I can do this, who am only a messenger, what will happen to him when Rama arrives with Sugriva's army and Jambavan's?”