The Story of Ayomukhi (Sarga 69)

Today we will begin the sixty-ninth canto: Lakshmana’s punishment of Ayo­mukhī, and Sri Rama and Lakshmana becoming anxious after being caught in the bonds of the demon’s arms.

Having offered water-oblation (jalāñjali) for Jatāyus, the two Raghava princes set out from there and, searching for Sita in the forest, went toward the southwest—toward the quarter of Nairṛta—bearing bows, arrows, and swords. Advancing in that south-western direction, the two valorous scions of the Ikshvaku line reached a path where people did not pass. That path was surrounded on all sides by many trees, thickets, and creepers. It was extremely difficult, deep, and terrifying to behold. Leaping over it swiftly, the two mighty princes took refuge in the southern quarter and went onward through an exceedingly dreadful and vast forest.

Then, going about three kos beyond a place called Janasthāna, the mighty Sri Rama and Lakshmana entered a dense forest known as Krauncha. Dark like a mass of many clouds, it appeared joyous on all sides because it was adorned with beautiful flowers of many colors. Many beasts and birds dwelt within. Desiring to learn of Sita’s whereabouts, the two searched that forest for her. Wherever they became fatigued, they halted to rest. They suffered greatly from the abduction of Videhanandinī (Sita).

Thereafter, the two brothers went three kos eastward, crossed a ravine, and reached the hermitage of the sage Maṭanga. Near that hermitage the forest was very frightening, inhabited by many terrible animals and birds. Of many kinds of trees, the whole woodland was filled with dense groves. Coming there, the sons of King Dasharatha saw upon a mountain a cave as deep as the netherworld—ever enveloped in darkness. Approaching it, those two best of men beheld a massive, huge-bodied creature with a frightful, enormous face—a terrifying sight that struck fear in small creatures and filled the beholder with revulsion. It had a long belly, sharp fangs, and hard skin; it appeared very monstrous. It seized even dreadful animals and ate them. Its form was hideous, its hair disheveled. Near that cavern the two brothers, Sri Rama and Lakshmana, saw her. The rakshasi of royal bearing came near the two heroes and, walking ahead of her brother, looked at Lakshmana and said, “Come, let us sport together.” Saying this, she seized Lakshmana’s hand; not only that, she clasped the son of Sumitra in her arms and spoke thus: “My name is Ayo­mukhī. If I obtain you as husband, know that I have gained a great boon, and you are my dear lord, my beloved. Long-lived, you shall ever sport with me in the difficult mountain caverns and on riverbanks.”

At these words of the rakshasi, Lakshmana, the destroyer of foes, blazed with anger. Drawing his sword, he cut off her ears, nose, and breasts. With nose and ears cut off, the dreadful rakshasi cried aloud and fled back the way she had come. When she had gone, the two powerful brothers, Sri Rama and Lakshmana, moved swiftly and reached a deep forest.

After some time, the highly radiant, steadfast, gentle, and pure-conducted Lakshmana, with joined palms, said to his illustrious elder brother Sri Ramachandra: “Arya, my left arm is throbbing violently and my mind is becoming despondent. I see evil omens again and again. Therefore be ready to face danger. Hear me: these evil omens portend a peril that is about to befall me at once. Along with them, there is one auspicious sign as well: the very fierce bird named Vaṅjula is calling loudly as if announcing our victory in battle.” Thus, while the two brothers were searching the whole forest by force of will, at that very time a great sound arose, as if destroying the forest. A violent wind began to blow there; the whole woodland was caught up in its swirl. The echo of that noise resounded through the entire region.

With sword in hand, Lord Sri Rama, together with his brother, was just seeking the source of the sound when their eyes fell upon a broad-chested, huge-bodied rakshasa. The two brothers saw him standing before them. He was gigantic to behold, yet he had no head and no neck. His form was only a trunk, humped like a buffalo; his mouth was in his belly. His whole body bristled with coarse, sharp hair. Towering like a great mountain, his figure was exceedingly dreadful—dark as a rain-cloud, roaring deep like thunder. His forehead lay upon his chest, and in that forehead was a single long, broad, blazing eye like a flame of fire, keen of sight. Its eyelid was immense and the eye brown in hue. His fangs were very large, and with a lolling tongue he repeatedly licked his vast mouth. Terrible lions, ferocious beasts and birds—these were his food. He would spread his two fearsome arms, each a yojana long, far and wide; with those hands he would snatch and drag away many bears, birds, beasts, and leaders of deer-herds. Those creatures that did not please him for food he would push back with those same hands. When Sri Rama and Lakshmana came near him, he blocked their path. The two brothers stepped aside and gazed at him intently. At that time he seemed a krośa in length. Since his form was only a neckless trunk (kambha-dhaṛ—hump-trunk), he was called Kabandha. Immense, cruel, frightful, endowed with two great arms, he appeared exceedingly ghastly.

That mighty rakshasa stretched out his two huge arms and, inflicting pain by force, grasped both Raghava princes at once. Swords were in both their hands; both had strong bows; both were possessed of blazing energy, mighty of arm, and greatly powerful—yet being dragged by the demon, they began to feel constrained. At that time the sun-like hero, Raghunandana Sri Rama, was not distressed because of his fortitude; but Lakshmana, being youthful in mind and not taking refuge in patience, felt great anguish. Then Lakshmana, stricken with sorrow, spoke to Sri Raghunatha: “O mighty one, see—I have fallen into the demon’s power and am helpless. Raghunandana, offer me alone as a victim to this demon and do you yourself free yourself from his arm-bonds. By sacrificing me, you may escape safely from here. I believe you will soon recover the princess of Videha. Scion of the Kakutstha line, when you return from exile and, taking possession of the land of our fathers and forefathers, you sit upon the royal throne, then always remember me.”

Hearing Lakshmana speak thus, Sri Rama said to Sumitra’s son: “Hero, do not be afraid. The valiant such as you do not sink into despondency.” Meanwhile, the cruel-hearted, lordly demon Kabandha, mighty-armed, said to the two brothers Sri Rama and Lakshmana: “Who are you two? Your shoulders are high like a bull’s. You carry great swords and bows. For what purpose have you come to this dreadful land? What business have you here? Speak! By fate you two have come within my sight. I stood here tormented by hunger, and you, bearing bows and swords, like two bulls with sharp horns, of your own accord have come at once near me. Therefore it is difficult now for you to remain alive.”

Hearing these wicked words, Sri Rama said to Lakshmana, whose mouth had gone dry: “Truth-valiant hero, while we were already grieving with unbearable sorrow, before gaining back our beloved Sita, now again this great calamity has come that can bring life to an end. Best of men, Lakshmana, the great power of Time lays its effect on all beings. See—both you and I are being deluded by many hardships dealt by Time. Sumitranandana, to rule over beings by medicine or by Time is not difficult for Bharata (Time itself). As bridges of sand collapse under the blows of water, so do great heroes, strong men, and masters of weapons fall into distress in battle under the dominion of Time.” Saying this, the steadfast, truly valiant, great-strength, illustrious Dasharathanandana Sri Rama looked toward Sumitra’s son and, for a moment, steadied his own intellect.

Thus ends the sixty-ninth canto of the Aranya Kānda of the ancient poem, the Valmiki Ramayana.

Seventieth canto: Sri Rama and Lakshmana, after consulting together, cut off both arms of Kabandha, and Kabandha’s welcome to them.

Seeing the two brothers, Sri Rama and Lakshmana, standing there surrounded (as if) by their own father, Kabandha said, looking at them: “O foremost Kshatriya princes, seeing me tormented by hunger, why do you stand still? Come into my mouth, for Fate has sent you as my food. Therefore your wits are confounded.” Hearing this, the afflicted Lakshmana, resolving upon valor at the proper moment, spoke this timely, wholesome counsel: “Brother, let this vile rakshasa instantly take you and me into his mouth—yet before that, let us swiftly cut off his great arms with our swords. This gigantic demon is exceedingly terrible; in his arms lies all his strength and prowess. Having utterly defeated the whole world, he now seeks to slay us here. Raghunandana, just as the slaughter of creatures brought for sacrifice is forbidden to a king, so we should not take his life; we should merely sever his arms.” Hearing the two converse thus, the demon became very angry and, opening his dreadful mouth, rushed to devour them. But in that very moment, those Raghava princes—knowers of place, time, and occasion—were filled with great joy and with their swords cut off his two arms at the shoulders. Lord Sri Rama, standing on his right, with his sword swiftly, without hindrance, cut off the right arm; and the hero Lakshmana, standing on his left, lopped off the left arm with his sword. With his arms cut away, 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 danava asked in a plaintive voice: “Heroes, who are you two?”

Thus questioned by Kabandha, Lakshmana—mighty, auspicious-marked—began to introduce Sri Ramachandra: “This is the son of King Dasharatha of the Ikshvaku line, renowned among men as Sri Rama. Know me to be his younger brother; my name is Lakshmana. When their consecration was stopped by Queen Kaikeyi, he came to the forest by his father’s command, and with me and his wife he wandered in this vast forest. Living in this desolate woodland, the wife of these godlike, puissant Sri Raghunatha has been carried off by some rakshasa. Desiring to find her, we have come here. Who are you, and why do you lie in this state taking the form of Kabandha? With mouth shining below the chest and thighs and shins broken, for what reason do you roll here and there?”

Hearing Lakshmana speak thus, Kabandha remembered the words once spoken by Indra. Greatly pleased, he replied: “Lion among men, heroes, welcome! By great good fortune I have gained your sight. These two arms were a heavy bondage to me—blessed indeed that you have cut them off. O best of men, Sri Rama, the form I have obtained is the fruit of my own act. How it came to pass I shall tell you truly. Hear it from me.”

Thus ends the seventieth canto of the Aranya Kānda of the Valmiki Ramayana.

Seventy-first canto: Kabandha’s self-story; after his body is burnt, his assurance to help Sri Rama in the search for Sita.

“O highly fortunate Sri Rama, in former times my form was celebrated through the three worlds, endowed with great strength and prowess, inconceivable. Just as the bodies of the Sun, the Moon, and Indra are resplendent, so was mine. Yet even so, I assumed this exceedingly terrible rakshasa form, frightening people and roaming about, and I used to terrify forest-dwelling rishis. By this conduct I angered the great sage Sthūlaśirā one day. He was gathering various wild fruits and roots when I, in this rakshasa guise, frightened him. Beholding me in such a dreadful form, he uttered a fierce curse: ‘Wretch! For your misdeed, this cruel and condemned form shall remain upon you today!’ Hearing this harsh, scornful curse, I pleaded: ‘Bhagavan, let there be an end to this curse!’ Then he said: ‘When Sri Rama and Lakshmana shall cut off your two arms and cremate you in the lonely forest, then you will regain your own supreme, excellent, beautiful, and splendid form.’

“Thus, Lakshmana, know me to be a vicious danava. This form arose for me by Indra’s wrath in battle. In former times, after becoming a rakshasa, I performed severe austerities and propitiated Grandfather Brahma; he granted me long life. From this boon delusion arose in my mind: ‘I have obtained life lasting long; what can Indra do to me?’ Harboring such thought, one day I attacked the lord of gods in battle. Then Indra struck me with his hundred-edged thunderbolt. Some of those thunderbolt-blows smashed my jaw and head and drove into my body. I begged exceedingly, so he did not send me to Yama and said, ‘May the boon of long life given by Brahma be true for you.’ Then I said, ‘O lord of gods, by the blow of your thunderbolt my jaw, head, and mouth are all shattered. How shall I take food, and how, fasting, shall I live for long?’ At my words Indra made my arms each one yojana long and at once formed in my belly a mouth with sharp teeth. Thus with my enormous arms I gathered lions, leopards, deer, and tigers dwelling in the forest and ate them. Indra also ordained for me: ‘When Sri Rama together with Lakshmana shall cut off your arms, then you shall go to heaven.’

“O prince, within this forest, whatever thing I saw with this body I desired to seize. According to the words of Indra and the sage I was assured that one day Sri Rama would surely fall into my grasp. With that thought before me, I was striving to abandon this body. Raghunandana, surely you are Sri Rama. Blessings upon you! None but you could have slain (disabled) me. The sage spoke true. O best of men, when you perform my cremation by fire, in a short while I will give you wise assistance; I will point you to a good friend.”

At the demon’s speech, righteous Sri Ramachandra said before Lakshmana: “My famed wife Sita has been carried off by Ravana. In a short time, with my brother Lakshmana, he flew from near our dwelling. I know only the bare name ‘rakshasa.’ I do not know his appearance, where he lives, or what his power is. In this matter we are utterly ignorant. The grief of Sita pains us greatly. Helpless, we are running to and fro on all sides. Show due compassion and do us some good: tell us where Sita is now and who took her and where. If you know exactly, by telling the news of Sita you will do us great benefit. Then we will gather dry branches broken by elephants, place your body in a great pit we ourselves have dug, and burn it by due rite. Therefore, tell us of Sita.”

At Sri Ramachandra’s words, that skilled speaker among demons said to the eloquent Raghunatha: “Sri Rama, at this time I do not possess divine knowledge; therefore I know nothing concerning the princess of Mithila. When this body of mine has been burnt, then, having regained my former form, I will tell you of one who will inform you about Sita and who also knows that eminent rakshasa. Lord, until my body is burnt, I cannot regain the power to know who that mighty rakshasa is who abducted your Sita. Raghunandana, through the fault of the curse my great knowledge has been destroyed. Through my own deeds I obtained this form condemned by the world. But, Sri Rama, before the sun sets, while his steeds grow weary, place me into a pit and cremate me according to scriptural rite. When my body has been duly burnt in the pit by you, I shall introduce you to such a great man as will know the rakshasas. Quickly manifesting valor, O Raghunandana, you should form friendship with that righteous great man; he will aid you. For him there is nothing unknown in the three worlds, for for certain reasons he has already traversed them all.”

Thus ends the seventy-first canto of the Aranya Kānda of the Valmiki Ramayana.

Seventy-second canto: Sri Rama and Lakshmana burn Kabandha on the funeral pyre; he appears in a divine form and tells them to make friendship with Sugriva.

At Kabandha’s plea, the two heroic kings, Sri Rama and Lakshmana, cast his body into a mountain pit and set it aflame. Lakshmana applied burning, great logs all around and the pyre blazed on every side. As Kabandha’s vast body burned on the pyre—being full of fat—it appeared like lumps of ghee. The fire burned it gradually. Then the mighty Kabandha, suddenly shaking the pyre aside, arose free of smoke like a pure flame, wearing two spotless garments and a garland of divine flowers. Swiftly he ascended upward from the pyre and soon sat in a radiant aerial car. Clad in pure raiment, he shone greatly; joy filled his heart, and his limbs were adorned with celestial ornaments. Seated in a glorious vimāna yoked with swans, the illustrious Kabandha, his splendor illuminating the ten directions, standing in the sky, spoke thus to Sri Rama:

“Raghunandana, I now tell you precisely how you will regain Sita: listen. In the world there are six measures by which kings obtain all things: alliance (sandhi), war (vigraha), knowledge/spying (jñāna), stationing/position (āsana), the gift (dāna) or conciliation (depending on reading), and taking refuge (samāśraya). A man in distress gains service or aid from another who is likewise in distress—such is policy. Sri Rama, together with Lakshmana, you are under misfortune: deprived of your kingdom, and by that same misfortune you have suffered the great sorrow of your wife’s abduction. Therefore, O best of friends, you must make a friend—one who is himself fallen into misfortune. Taking shelter in a friend, adopt the policy of samāśraya. Even after much thought, I see no success for you without doing this.

“Hear me: I introduce such a man—his name is Sugriva. He is a forest-dwelling vāṇara. His elder brother, Indra’s son Vāli, angered with him, has driven him from his home. The heroic man Sugriva now dwells with four monkeys upon a great mountain that extends to Lake Pampā. King of the monkeys, most valiant Sugriva is radiant, exceedingly handsome, true to his word, humble, steadfast, wise, a great man, efficient in action, fearless, brilliant, and endowed with great strength and prowess. His noble-minded brother Vāli, having seized the entire kingdom, has exiled him. Therefore he will be your helper and friend in the search for Sita. Do not cast your mind into sorrow. Best of Ikshvakus, what is destined cannot be turned back; the ordinance of Time is hard for all. Bear up with patience what befalls you as the decree of fate. Go quickly to the mighty Sugriva and make him your friend at once. Establish friendship by taking Truth as witness near blazing fire and pledge mutual non-betrayal; thereafter never dishonor that monkey-king. He is shape-shifting at will, valiant, and grateful, and at this time he himself seeks a helper. You two brothers are able to accomplish his desired aim. Whether or not Sugriva’s purpose is fulfilled, he will surely accomplish yours. He is the son of a king; fearing Vāli, he roams the shores of Lake Pampā. He is called the legitimate son of the Sun. Having offended Vāli, he fights him. Raghunandana, lay down your weapons before fire, swear by Truth swiftly, and make the cave-dwelling forest monkey Sugriva your friend. The illustrious Sugriva knows in full detail all the haunts of flesh-eating rakshasas. Where the sun’s rays reach in the three worlds, there is no place or thing unknown to Sugriva. With the monkeys he will search all rivers, great mountains, hills, difficult places, and caverns and find your wife. Raghava, he will send vast-bodied monkeys in all directions to seek Sita, grieving in your separation, and they will search even Ravana’s house and bring back the fair-limbed princess of Mithilā. Whether she has been carried to the summit of Mount Meru or hidden by entering the netherworld, Sugriva, chief of the monkeys, will slay the rakshasas and restore her to you.”

Thus ends the seventy-second canto of the Aranya Kānda of the Valmiki Ramayana.

Seventy-third canto: The divinely formed Kabandha shows Rama and Lakshmana the way to Koṣamukha and to Lake Pampā, and, introducing Maṭanga’s forest and hermitage, departs.

Showing Sri Rama the means to search for Sita, the wise Kabandha again spoke purposefully: “Sri Rama, taking the western direction here, where these trees laden with blossoms shine, this is the pleasant path fit for you to travel. Jāmun (black plum), priyāla, chironji, jackfruit, pakar, tendu, pipal, kaner, mango, and other trees—naga-kesara, tilaka, night-jasmine, nīla-aśoka, kadamba, the gum-bearing bhilāwa, aśoka, red sandalwood, and mandāra—these trees will appear along the way. You two brothers should bend their branches down to the ground by strength or climb them and sustain yourselves on their nectar-like sweet fruits as you travel.

“Having traversed a certain forest adorned with blooming trees, you will enter another woodland as delightful as Nandana itself. The trees of that forest pour streams of honey and bear fruit in every season. In a charming grove akin to Chaitraratha all seasons dwell together; there the trees have great boughs, weighed down with fruit, and appear everywhere like clouds and mountains. Climb those trees, Lakshmana, or bend them gently to the earth, and they will give you nectar-like sweet fruits. Thus roaming over beauteous mountains, from one hill to another and from one forest to the next, traversing many mountains and woods, you heroic brothers will reach the bank of the tank named Pampā.

“Raghunandana, there is no slime of clinging clay upon its shore; its landings are level on every side—neither high nor low nor rough. In that lotus-lake there is no weed of sevar; the bed within is even. Lotuses and water-lilies enhance the beauty of the lake. In the waters of Pampā, swans, geese, and kurara birds ever coo in sweet tones. They are not distressed at the sight of men, for they feel no fear that any man will slay a bird there. All these birds are very lovely. Heaps of forest produce—fruits and roots—whose shells have been removed on the upper side, all unbroken, smooth as lumps of ghee, not dry, hardened by fire and roasted for fitting to arrow-heads—such stores will be available there as offerings. Devoted to you, Lakshmana will present those to you; taking them, you two brothers should feed the well-known large waterfowl of the lake and the excellent fishes—rohita, vakratunda, and nalamīna—a little at a time; thus you will find delight.

“When you are engaged in the play of feeding the fish near Pampā’s flowering banks, then Lakshmana will draw from the lotus leaf the lotus-scented, auspicious, pleasant, cool, disease-banishing, soothing waters, clear as silver and crystal, and offer it to you to drink. At evening, wandering with you, Lakshmana will show you those big forest-monkeys who sleep and dwell in the mountain caves. These forest monkeys, greedy for water, come to Pampā’s shore and roar like lions; their bodies are large and their hue yellow—there you will see them. At evening, as you go, seeing the great bough-bearing, flower-laden trees and the cool waters of Pampā, you will abandon your grief.

“Raghunandana, there the tilaka and night-jasmine trees bloom with flowers, and within the water lotuses and lilies appear. No man plucks and wears those blossoms, for none can reach them. The flowers of Pampā do not wither nor fall. It is said that formerly the disciples of Sage Maṭanga dwelt there, their minds ever concentrated and serene. When they returned with wild fruits and roots for their guru Maṭanga and became weary, the drops of sweat that fell from their bodies upon the earth by the power of their tapas immediately transformed into flowers. Because they were born of sweat-drops, those flowers do not perish. All those sages have departed now, but their servant, the ascetic woman Śabarī, is still seen there. Kakutstha, Śabarī, being long-lived, remains ever engaged in righteousness. Sri Rama, you are ever venerable to all beings and equal to the gods; by beholding you, Śabarī will go to heaven, to the realm of Sāketa.

“Scion of the race, then, going to Pampā’s western bank you will see a matchless hermitage, secluded because it lies beyond common reach. Neither that hermitage nor that forest can be assailed by elephants, owing to Maṭanga’s power. The forest there is famed as Maṭanga-vana. That woodland, delightful like Nandana and fair as a divine park, is filled with birds of many kinds; there you will roam joyfully. On the eastern side of Pampā stands Mount Ṛṣyamūka, whose trees appear adorned with blossoms. It is difficult to ascend, for it is guarded on all sides by small serpents or by the calves of elephants. Ṛṣyamūka yields noble desired fruits; in ancient times Brahmā himself fashioned it and endowed it with qualities of generosity. Upon its summit, the wealth a man sees in a dream he gains even after waking. But the sinful and ill-conducted man who climbs Ṛṣyamūka—if he sleeps upon its peak, rakshasas seize him there and strike him.

“Near the hermitage of Maṭanga, in the surrounding woods, the great sound of the young elephants that sport in Pampā and trumpet is heard upon Ṛṣyamūka as well. Herds of swift, cloud-dark elephants, with temples streaming red ichor, moving together in groups, wander there, separate from other kinds. When those elephants, roaming the woodlands, drink the pure, delightful, cool, fragrant waters of Pampā and return, they enter the forests. Raghunandana, seeing there bears, tigers, and deer that are never outstripped in running and that flee at the sight of blue-hued men, you will forget all your grief. Atop that mountain is a very great cave, whose entrance is covered with a stone—it is very hard to enter. At the eastern door of that cave is a large pool filled with cool water. Around it many fruits and roots are easily obtained, and that pleasant place is pervaded by trees of many kinds. Righteous Sugriva dwells with monkeys in that cave; sometimes he abides upon the summit of Ṛṣyamūka itself.

“Thus, having told both brothers Rama and Lakshmana everything, the relation (Kabandha), radiant as the sun and adorned with a wreath of divine flowers, began to shine in the sky. Then the two brothers prepared to depart. Standing in the sky, the highly fortunate Kabandha, being near them, said, ‘Now you attain the supreme abode.’ The brothers said to him, ‘You, too, proceed to your goal.’ Taking leave of those two gladly, Kabandha at once departed. Regaining his former form, he became wondrously beautiful; his whole body shone with sun-like splendor. Looking toward Rama, he indicated the path to Lake Pampā while still stationed in the sky, and said, ‘Make friendship with Sugriva.’

Thus ends the seventy-third canto of the Aranya Kānda of the Valmiki Ramayana.