Aranya Kanda
Narration
…continued
When she was gone, the two powerful brothers, Sri Ram and Lakshman, moved quickly and entered a deep forest. After some time, the very radiant, steadfast, gentle, and pure-minded Lakshman, with folded hands, said to his illustrious brother Sri Ramchandra, “Arya, my left arm is throbbing violently, and my mind feels uneasy. I see bad omens again and again. So, be ready to face danger. Believe me—these bad omens point to some imminent peril that concerns me alone. Along with this, there is also a good omen. That very harsh bird called the vanjula is calling out loudly, as if announcing our victory in battle.”
While the two brothers were forcefully searching that whole forest for Sita, a great sound arose there, as if destroying the woods. Fierce winds began to blow through the forest, sweeping it entirely. The echo of that sound made the whole region resound. With his brother, and sword in hand, the Lord Sri Ram was about to trace the sound when their eyes fell on a broad-chested, huge-bodied rakshasa. The two brothers found that demon standing before them. He was enormous to see, yet he had no head and no neck; his form was just a trunk, and a mouth was set in his belly. Sharp, bristly hairs covered his whole body. He was tall like a great mountain, his figure terrifying. He was dark as a raincloud and roared deep like thunder. His chest itself served as his brow, and on that brow was a single long, wide, blazing eye, like a flame, sharp-sighted. Its eyelid was very large, and the eye was brown. His fangs were huge, and with his lolling tongue he kept licking his vast mouth again and again. Extremely fearsome lions, wild beasts, and birds were his food. Stretching out each of his dreadful arms, a full yojana long, he would reach far and seize many kinds of bears, birds, beasts, and leaders of deer herds, dragging them in. Those creatures not to his taste he would push back with those very hands.
When Ram and Lakshman came near, he blocked their path and stood there. The two brothers stepped aside and studied him closely. At that time he seemed a krosh long. His form was only a trunk with shoulders; therefore he was called Kabandha (“barrel-bodied”). Violent, given to slaughter, dreadful, with two great arms, he looked extremely terrible. That mighty demon spread his huge arms and, tormenting the two Raghu princes with force, seized them both at once. Both had swords in their hands, both had strong bows, both brothers blazed with energy, had mighty arms and great strength—yet, being dragged by that demon, they began to feel restrained. Then the sun-like hero, Raghunandan Sri Ram, did not lose composure due to his steadiness, but Lakshman, being younger and not taking firm refuge in patience, felt great distress in his heart. Grief-stricken, Lakshman, the younger brother of Sri Ram, said, “O hero, look—I am overpowered by the demon and helpless. Raghunandan, give only me up to this demon as a victim and free yourself from his arm-bond. By offering me alone, you should flee from here in safety. I am sure you will soon regain the princess of Videha. O ornament of the Kakutstha line, when, after the forest exile, you return to Ayodhya and take your father’s and forefathers’ realm, seated on the royal throne, please remember me always.”
Hearing this, Sri Ram said to Sumitra’s son, “O hero, do not fear. Brave men like you do not lament in this way.” Meanwhile, the cruel-hearted, great-armed best of demons, Kabandha, said to the two brothers, Sri Ram and Lakshman, “Who are you two? Your shoulders rise high like bulls’. You carry great swords and bows. Why have you come to this dreadful land? What business do you have here? By fortune you have come before my eyes. I was standing here tormented by hunger, and you two, with bows and swords, like two bulls with sharp horns, have come straight to me. Now, it will be hard for you to live.”
Hearing the words of that wicked being, Sri Ram said to the dry-mouthed Lakshman, “O true and steadfast hero, afflicted with hard, unbearable sorrow we were already grieving. Even before regaining our beloved Sita, a great calamity has come upon us, one that ends life. Best of men, Lakshman, Time’s great power casts its influence on all beings. See—both you and I are deluded by many calamities sent by Time. Sumitra’s son, to Time or Fate, ruling over all beings is not difficult. As bridges of sand collapse under the strike of water, so great heroes, strong men skilled in arms, in the battlefield become subject to Time and fall into distress.” Saying this, the firm and truly valiant, mighty, glorious son of Dasharatha, Sri Ram, looked at Sumitra’s son and, after a moment, steadied his own mind.
Thus ends the sixty-ninth sarga of the Aranya Kanda composed by Valmiki.
The seventieth sarga: Sri Ram and Lakshman, after conferring together, cut off both arms of Kabandha, and Kabandha welcomes them.
Surrounded by his own arms, standing there, Kabandha looked at the two brothers Sri Ram and Lakshman and said, “O princes, jewels among Kshatriyas, why do you stand here even after seeing me tormented by hunger? Come into my mouth—because Fate has sent you to be my food. Your sense is destroyed.” Hearing this, Lakshman, pained, but at the right moment fixing on valor alone, spoke words suited to the time and beneficial: “Brother, let this vile demon take you and me into his mouth at once—but before that, with our swords, let us quickly sever his huge arms. This gigantic demon is very terrible. All his power and prowess lie in his arms. Having subdued the whole world, he now wants to kill us here. Prince, Raghunandan, just as killing sacrificial animals brought to the yajna is condemned for a king, so we should not take his life—only cut off his arms.”
Hearing the two speak thus, the demon grew very angry and, spreading his fearsome mouth, rushed to devour them. Just then, the two Raghu princes, who knew place, time, and opportunity, were filled with great joy and, with their swords, struck off his two arms right at the shoulders. Standing on his right, Lord Sri Ram swiftly cut off his right arm without hindrance, and standing on his left, the valiant Lakshman sliced off his left arm. With his arms cut, the great demon roared like a cloud, making earth, sky, and quarters resound, and fell to the ground. Seeing his arms severed and himself bathed in blood, that demon asked in a humble voice, “Heroes, who are you two?”
Thus questioned by Kabandha, the auspicious-marked, mighty Lakshman began to introduce Sri Ramchandra: “This is the son of King Dasharatha of the Ikshvaku line, renowned among men as Sri Ram. Know me as his younger brother; my name is Lakshman. When Mother Kaikeyi stopped his coronation, he came to the forest by his father’s command, and, with me and his wife, roamed this vast forest. While living in this lonely forest, someone abducted the wife of these godlike, glorious Raghunath. Wishing to find her, we have come here. Who are you, and why have you taken this form of Kabandha and fallen in this forest? With a mouth shining below the chest and broken thighs and shins, why do you roll here and there?” Hearing Lakshman, Kabandha remembered Indra’s words. Greatly pleased, he answered Lakshman, “Lion-like heroes, welcome to you both. By great fortune I have seen you. These two arms were a heavy bondage for me—happily, you have cut them off. O best of men, Sri Ram, the form I received is the fruit of my own sin. How it happened, I will tell you accurately—listen.”
Thus ends the seventieth sarga of the Aranya Kanda composed by Valmiki.
The seventy-first sarga: Kabandha’s tale about himself; after his body is burned he promises to help Sri Ram search for Sita.
“O great hero Sri Ram,” he said, “formerly my form was glorious, full of power and prowess, inconceivable, and famed across the three worlds. Like the bodies of the sun, the moon, and Indra, so was my radiance. Yet, even so, I assumed this terrifying rakshasa form that frightens people, roamed about, and scared the forest-dwelling rishis. By this behavior I angered the great sage Sthulasira one day. He was gathering all kinds of wild fruits and roots. Seeing him, I frightened him in this demon form. Beholding me in such a dreadful shape, he cursed me fiercely, ‘Wretch! For this sin, let this cruel and condemned form remain yours!’ Hearing this, I begged the angry sage: ‘Bhagavan, there must be an end to this scornful curse.’ Then he said, ‘When Sri Ram and Lakshman cut off your two arms, and when they burn you in a desolate forest, you will regain your own supreme, excellent, beautiful and splendid form.’
“Lakshman, thus know me as a wicked demon; this very form came to me through Indra’s wrath in battle. After becoming a rakshasa, I performed severe austerities and pleased Grandfather Brahma, and he granted me long life. Because of that, delusion and pride arose in me: ‘I have a long life; what can Indra do to me?’ Taking shelter in such thoughts, one day I attacked the king of the gods in battle. Then Indra struck me with his hundred-edged thunderbolt. Some of the vajra’s points entered my shoulders and head, right into my body. I pleaded greatly, so he did not send me to Yama and said, ‘Let the boon of long life granted by Grandfather Brahma be true.’ Then I said, ‘O lord of gods, by your thunderbolt you have destroyed my shoulders, head, and mouth. How shall I take food, and how can I live long without eating?’ At my words, Indra made my arms a yojana long and immediately set, in my belly, a mouth with sharp teeth. Thus, with my vast arms, I swept together lions, leopards, deer, and tigers living in the forest and ate them. Indra also declared: ‘When Sri Ram, along with Lakshman, will cut off your arms, then you shall go to heaven.’
“O prince, whatever I saw in this forest with this body, I seized at will. According to Indra and the sage, I believed that one day Sri Ram would surely come into my grasp. Fixing that thought before me, I sought a way to cast off this body. Raghunandan, you surely are Sri Ram—may it be well with you. None but you could have slain me. The sage spoke truly. When you cremate me with Lakshman by fire, in a short while I will give you wise guidance. I will point you to a good friend. O demon-slayer, Sri Ram,”—he continued before Lakshman—“my famed wife Sita has been carried off by Ravana. Some time ago he left the outskirts of Janasthana with her and fled. I know only the name of that rakshasa, not his form. Where he lives and what his power is—we do not know at all. The sorrow of Sita torments us greatly. Helpless, we are running about like this. Show proper compassion and help us in this matter. Then we will burn your body: we will dig a great pit ourselves, lay your body in it, and kindle the fire with dry wood broken by elephants. Now tell us where Sita is, who took her and where. If you know exactly, tell us and greatly bless us.”
At Sri Ramchandra’s words, the demon skilled in speech replied to the eloquent Raghunath, “Sri Ram, right now I do not possess divine knowledge, so I know nothing about the princess of Mithila. When my body has been burned, then, having regained my former form, I can point you to someone who will tell you about Sita, and who will also know that eminent rakshasa. My great insight is lost because of the curse. Because of my own deeds I received this despised form. But, Sri Ram, until the sun sets today when his steeds are weary, lay me in a pit and burn me according to scriptural rule. When my body has been duly burned by you, O swift-acting Raghunandan, I will introduce you to those great men who know the rakshasas. You should befriend that noble one who follows just conduct—he will help you. Raghunandan, nothing in the three worlds is unknown to him, for for some reason he has already ranged through all the worlds.”
Thus ends the seventy-first sarga of the Aranya Kanda composed by Valmiki.
The seventy-second sarga: Ram and Lakshman cremate Kabandha in the funeral fire; he appears in a divine form and urges them to befriend Sugriva.
At Kabandha’s request, the two heroic kings among men, Sri Ram and Lakshman, placed his body in a mountain pit and set it on fire. Lakshman lit the pyre all around with great burning brands, and it blazed on every side. As Kabandha’s huge body, greasy with fat, burned in the flames, it looked like a lump of ghee. Slowly the fire consumed him. Then at once the mighty Kabandha shook the pyre, rose free of smoke like a pure fire, wearing two spotless garments and a divine garland of flowers. He rose swiftly up from the pyre and quickly sat in a shining aerial car. Clad in pure garments, he looked very radiant. Joy filled his heart, and divine ornaments shone on all his limbs. Seated in the resplendent chariot yoked with swans, the glorious Kabandha lit up the ten directions with his brilliance, and standing in the sky he spoke to Sri Ram:
“Raghunandan, I will tell you exactly how you can find Sita—listen. Sri Ram, there are six policies by which kings obtain everything: alliance, conflict, espionage, staying put, deceitful gifts, and taking shelter (samasraya). A man in misfortune can be helped only by another man in misfortune—this is policy. Sri Ram, together with Lakshman, you are stricken by misfortune. You are deprived of your kingdom, and through that misfortune you suffer the great grief of your wife’s abduction. Therefore, best of friends, Raghunandan, surely take a friend for yourself—someone also sunk in misfortune. Relying on a friend, follow the policy of taking shelter. I have thought much, and I see no success for you otherwise.
“Listen, Sri Ram: I will introduce such a man. His name is Sugriva. He is a forest-dwelling Vanara. Angered, his brother, Indra’s son Vali, drove him from his home. That human-hearted hero Sugriva now dwells with four Vanaras among certain mountains that reach to the Pampa Lake. Sugriva, king of the Vanaras, is mighty, radiant, extremely handsome, true to his word, humble, patient, intelligent, a great man, skilled in action, fearless, shining, and full of great strength and valor. His high-souled brother Vali took all the kingdom into his own hands and exiled him. So he will be your helper and friend in the search for Sita. Do not cast your mind into grief. Best of the Ikshvakus, what is fated cannot be overturned—Time’s ordinance is hard for all. Whatever is happening to you, take it as the decree of Time and be steadfast. Go quickly to the mighty Sugriva and make him your friend at once. Establish friendship before blazing fire, swearing truthfully to harbor no enmity, and after that never dishonor that Vanara-king. He can take on forms at will, is valiant and grateful, and right now he himself seeks a helper. You two brothers are able to fulfill what he desires. Whether his wish is fulfilled or not, he will surely accomplish your work. He is the son of a king; Vali, suspicious, wanders along the shore of Pampa. Sugriva is called the natural son of the Sun. Having offended Vali, he fights him. Raghunandan, place your weapons near the fire and quickly swear the truth, and make the forest-dwelling Vanara Sugriva your friend. The noble Sugriva knows thoroughly all the haunts of the man-eating rakshasas. Raghunandan, as far as the sun’s rays shine, there is no place or thing unknown to Sugriva. Dwelling among the Vanaras, he will search all rivers, great mountains, hills, difficult places, and caverns and find your wife. Raghava, he will send great-bodied Vanaras in all directions to search for Sita, who grieves in your separation, and they will even seek her in Ravana’s house and bring the princess of Mithila back to you. Whether she has been carried to the peak of Mount Meru or hidden by entering the underworld—Sugriva, chief of the Vanaras, will slay the rakshasas and bring her back.”
Thus ends the seventy-second sarga of the Aranya Kanda composed by Valmiki.
The seventy-third sarga: The divinely restored Kabandha shows Ram and Lakshman the road to Pampa, points out Matanga’s forest and hermitage, and departs.
After showing Sri Ram the means to find Sita, the wise Kabandha again spoke purposefully: “Sri Ram, take the western course here, where these lovely flower-laden trees are shining—that is the pleasant road you should take. Jambu (rose-apple), priyala, chironji, jackfruit, banyan, tendu, pipal, oleander, mango, and other trees—nagakesar, tilaka, night-blooming jasmine, blue ashoka, kadamba, peeled bhilawa, ashoka, red sandalwood, and mandar—you will meet these trees along the way. You two brothers should bend their branches down by force to the ground, or climb the trees, and eat their nectar-like sweet fruits as you travel. Leaving a certain forest filled with blooming trees, you will enter another, as charming as Nandana. The trees of that second forest pour streams of honey and bear fruit in all seasons. In that pleasing grove like Chaitraratha, all seasons dwell together. The trees bear great branches and are bowed with fruit. Everywhere they shine like clouds and mountains. Lakshman will climb those trees or gently bend them to the earth and give you their nectar-sweet fruit.
“Thus roaming among beautiful mountains, from one hill to another and from one forest to the next, passing through many mountains and woods, you two heroes will reach the bank of the lake called Pampa. Sri Ram, there is no mire at its edge, no slippery mud today. The ground at the ghats is even everywhere—no rises or roughness. That lake lacks weeds entirely. Its bed is full of clean sand. Lotuses and blue lilies enhance the beauty of the lake. Raghunandan, swans, cranes, and curlews always call sweetly in Pampa’s waters. They are not disturbed by seeing men, for they have never felt the fear that a human might kill a bird. All these birds are very beautiful. There you will find heaps of fruits and roots—smooth as lumps of ghee, not dry, with husks already removed, fit to tip arrows, roasted in fire and cooked. Your devoted Lakshman will offer these to you. Taking those foods, you two should feed a little to the lake’s great water-birds and the fine fish—rohu, crooked-snouted, and nal species—for your delight.
“When, near Pampa’s flower-border, you are absorbed in the play of feeding the fish, Lakshman will draw water—fragrant with lotus, auspicious, cool, soothing, disease-banishing, and clear as silver and crystal—into a lotus leaf and bring it to you to drink. In the evening, while walking with you, Lakshman will show you those big forest-dwelling Vanaras who sleep and live in mountain caves. Best of men, the Vanaras come to Pampa’s bank to drink water and roar like lions. Their bodies are bulky, and their color is tawny—you will see them all there.
“In the evening, as you go, seeing the flower-laden, broad-branched trees and the cool waters of Pampa, you will cast off your grief. Raghunandan, tilaka and night-blooming jasmine trees laden with flowers shine there, and within the waters, blue lilies and lotuses bloom. No man plucks those flowers to wear, for none can reach them. The flowers of Pampa neither wither nor fall. They say the disciples of the sage Matanga once lived there, their minds always one-pointed and calm. When they brought wild fruits and roots for their guru and grew tired outside, the drops of their sweat that fell on the earth, by the power of their austerity, at once turned into flowers. Raghava, because those flowers arose from sweat-drops, they do not perish. The disciples have all gone now, but the ascetic woman Shabari, who served them, is still seen there. Kakutstha, Shabari is long-lived and always engaged in dharma. Seeing you—venerable to all beings and god-like—Shabari will depart to the heavenly world, Saketa.
“Scion of the clan, then go to Pampa’s western bank and see a peerless hermitage that is hidden because common people cannot reach it. Neither that hermitage nor that forest can be attacked by elephants because of Matanga’s power. Raghunandan, that jungle is famed as Matanga-vana. In that forest—lovely as Nandana and beautiful like the gods’ grove—many kinds of birds abound. You will wander there happily. On the eastern side of Pampa is Mount Rishyamukha; its trees appear adorned with flowers. It is hard to climb, for it is guarded everywhere by little serpents and elephant calves. Mount Rishyamukha grants generous, desired fruits; in former times, Brahma himself made it and endowed it with liberality and virtues. Sri Ram, on that peak, whatever wealth a sleeping man sees in his dream, on waking he truly gains. But if a sinful, harsh-dealing man climbs it, the rakshasas seize him as he slumbers on the summit and strike him. Near Matanga’s hermitage and in the forests around, the loud trumpeting of young elephants playing in Pampa is heard even on that mountain. Great, swift, cloud-dark elephants, with red streams of ichor flowing from their temples, move in herds, separating from other breeds and wandering there. When those elephants, wandering in the woods, drink the pure, charming, delightful, cool, and fragrant waters of Pampa and return, they enter the forests again.
“Raghunandan, there you will see deer that flee at the sight of bears, tigers, and men of bluish gentle sheen, and that outrun all pursuers—you will forget all your sorrow. On the mountain top is a great cave whose doorway is covered with stone; entering it is very hard. At the eastern entrance of that cave is a great pond filled with cool water. Around it many fruits and roots are easy to get, and delightful, heart-pleasing trees spread about. The righteous Sugriva dwells with the Vanaras in that cave; at times they also stay on the summit of the mountain.
“After telling Ram and Lakshman all these things, the radiant Kabandha, wearing a garland of divine flowers, shone like the sun in the sky.” At that time the two brothers, Sri Ram and Lakshman, prepared to depart. Standing in the sky, the greatly blessed Kabandha said to them, “Now go to the supreme abode.” He too said to the two brothers, “You also set out to accomplish your task.” Saying so, very pleased, he took leave of them and departed at once. Regaining his former form, Kabandha was filled with wondrous beauty; his whole body shone with sun-like brilliance. Looking toward Ram and showing them the way to Pampa, he remained in the sky and said, “Make friendship with Sugriva.”
Thus ends the seventy-third sarga of the Aranya Kanda composed by Valmiki.