Epics

Rāvaṇa said to the rākṣasa Mārīca, “My dear friend, hear me. I am in immense distress and you are my sole means of solace. You know Janasthāna, where once dwelt my powerful brothers Khara, Dūṣaṇa, and Triśiras as well as my sister Śūrpaṇakhā. As per my orders, they lived there with several other rākṣasas and constantly troubled the dhārmic munis. The brothers along with fourteen thousand rākṣasas have been slain by Rāma, who, although in rage, did not utter a single harsh word.

As Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa sat along with Sītā in leaf hut engrossed in conversation, a rākṣasī named Śūrpaṇakhā, the sister of the ten-headed rākṣasa Rāvaṇa happened to come there. As soon as the rākṣasī saw Rāma, she grew infatuated with him. While Rāma was handsome, she was ugly; he was slim and she had a huge tummy; he had wide eyes, and her eyes were crooked; his voice was sweet and hers struck terror. He was young, noble, and well mannered, while she was old, repulsive, and ill mannered.

Many sages gathered around Rāma once Śarabhaṅga had ascended to svarga. They told him their plight of being tormented by rākṣasas along River Pampā, Mandākinī, and the Citrakūṭa Mountain. Rāma promised them protection and proceeded to the āśrama of Sutīkṣṇa along with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā.

Rāma, Sītā, and Lakṣmaṇa walked ahead and reached Sage Atri’s āśrama. Rāma prostrated before him and the sage received him like a son. He personally provided hospitality to Rāma and cheered up Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa. His wife, the aged and noble Anasūyā received Sītā. Atri narrated to Rāma about his dhārmic wife: “Once when the world was ravaged by severe drought for ten years, Anasūyā created roots and fruits and made the river Jāhnavī flow out of the power of her intense tapas.

With the wives of Daśaratha before him, Sage Vasiṣṭha set out to the spot where Rāma was. Kausalyā saw the bathing place of Rāma and was overcome by sorrow. They even saw the piṇḍa made of iṅgudī that Rāma had offered to his father and lamented at his fate. They then spotted the brothers.

Bharata, the mothers, and the army reached the vicinity of the Citrakūṭa mountain. Bharata observed, “The trees on the mountains scatter their flowers on the mountain slopes just as the dark water-laden clouds send down showers when the heat of the summer is over. Look at the startled deer, Śatrughna! As they quickly dart off, scared of our huge army, they look like banks of clouds in the sky flying before the wind in the autumn. These trees wear bunches of flowers on their heads supported by cloud-blue boughs just as the dākṣiṇātyas wear a garland of flowers on their heads.

When Bharata did not find his father, he went to his mother Kaikeyī’s home. When he asked about his father, Kaikeyī merely replied, “Your father has taken the path that all living beings must follow.” Shocked and shattered by grief, Bharata fell on the ground and wept uncontrollably. He said, “I came here in delight, thinking that the king had called me to witness the coronation of Rāma or to participate in a yajña. But how differently it has turned out! I am heart-broken! Mother, to what illness did the king succumb?

The next morning, Rāma awoke Lakṣmaṇa and they set out into the forest. Rāma enjoyed the beauty of nature and pointed it out to Sītā as well. Spellbound with the flora and fauna in and around the Citrakūṭa Mountain, Rāma decided that they should reside there. Upon Rāma’s instruction, Lakṣmaṇa built a parṇa-śālā – leaf-hut and then killed a black antelope to perform bali as a part of the housewarming ritual. Enjoying the beauty of the mountain and the pleasant river Mālyavatī, Rāma overcame the sorrow of having left his beloved city.

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As long as the dust raised by Rāma’s chariot was visible, Daśaratha’s height appeared to be increasing, as he strained to catch a last glimpse of his son. He collapsed on the ground when Rāma was no longer visible. The queens Kausalyā and Kaikeyī escorted him to the palace. Daśaratha admonished Kaikeyī, “Don’t touch me! You are neither my queen nor my kin. You are only after wealth! I will soon renounce my life. If Bharata is happy to procure this kingdom, may the tarpaṇa he offered not reach me!” As he entered his house, he wailed, “Alas Rāma!

A brāhmaṇa by name Trijaṭa who belonged to the Gārgya-gotra approached Rāma and told him about his poverty. He had many children and subsisted his family through uñcha-vṛtti. He requested Rāma for help. Rāma promised him, “I have not given away even a thousand cows. Throw your staff to a distance. You will get as many cows as covered by your staff.” Excited, Trijaṭa tied his upper garment to his waist, whirled his stick above his head, and flung it with all his strength. It fell at a great distance.