Aranya Kanda

News reaches Lanka

As we saw, two survivors from the battle of Janasthana were hurrying to Lanka. The first was Akampana. He told Ravana that Khara, Dushana and fourteen thousand rakshasas had been killed by Rama, son of Dasharatha, alone. Ravana was furious and wanted to destroy Rama at once. Akampana told him that no one could defeat Rama in battle, but that Rama would die of grief if his beloved wife Sita were taken from him.

Ravana liked this plan. He rode in his chariot across the sea to the hermitage of Maricha, the rakshasa who had once faced Rama at Vishvamitra’s sacrifice. But Maricha warned him: “Whoever gave you this idea wants to destroy you. Rama is like a blazing fire. Do not go near him.” Ravana listened and returned to Lanka.

Then Shurpanakha arrived at Ravana’s court, where he sat on a golden throne among his ministers. She told him angrily that he was lost in pleasures and did not even know what was happening in his own kingdom. She described how Rama had killed Khara and his army, and then praised the beauty of Sita, saying that such a wife was fit only for Ravana. “Take her,” she urged, “and Rama will be destroyed by grief.”

This time Ravana’s mind was fixed. He sent away his ministers, climbed into his golden chariot, drawn by donkeys with the faces of goblins, and flew once again over the ocean to Maricha. Maricha was now living as an ascetic, wearing bark and matted hair, in a quiet hermitage beside the sea.

Maricha’s warning

Ravana told Maricha his plan. Maricha was to take the form of a golden deer with silver spots and wander near Rama’s hut. Sita would want it, Rama and Lakshmana would go after it, and Ravana would carry her away. Maricha turned pale with fear. He told Ravana that Rama was not cruel or unjust, as Ravana believed, but dharma in human form.

Then he told his own story. When Rama was only a boy guarding Vishvamitra’s sacrifice, a single arrow from him had thrown Maricha a hundred yojanas into the ocean. Later, in the Dandaka forest, Maricha and two companions attacked Rama in the form of fierce deer. Rama’s arrows killed the other two, and Maricha barely escaped. “Since then,” he said, “wherever I look I see Rama. I even dream of him.”

Maricha begged Ravana to go home and live happily with his own wives, and warned that this deed would destroy him, his family and his city. But Ravana would not listen. He told Maricha that he had come to give an order, not to ask for advice, and that if Maricha refused, Ravana would kill him on the spot.

Maricha thought to himself: “If I go, Rama will kill me. If I refuse, Ravana will kill me. It is better to die at the hands of Rama.” With a heavy heart he agreed and set off with Ravana in the flying chariot. When they reached the forest near Panchavati, Ravana hid himself, and Maricha changed his form.

The golden deer

A wonderful deer began to wander near the hut. Its body shone like gold and was covered with silver spots, its horns were tipped with jewels, and its hooves gleamed like precious blue stone. While picking flowers, Sita saw it and was filled with wonder. She called Rama and Lakshmana to come and see this amazing creature.

Lakshmana was suspicious at once. “No such deer exists in the world,” he said. “This must be Maricha, who has killed many kings in this forest by taking such forms.” But Sita was charmed. She asked Rama to catch the deer alive, so that she could keep it in the ashram and later take it to Ayodhya, or, if it was killed, to bring her its golden skin.

Rama agreed. He told Lakshmana, “If this is a real deer, we will have its skin. If it is Maricha, I must kill him anyway, for he has troubled the sages.” He told Lakshmana to stay with Sita and guard her carefully, with Jatayu’s help, and not to leave her for a moment. Then he took his bow and sword and went after the deer.

The deer led Rama deep into the forest, appearing and disappearing, sometimes coming close and then leaping far away. At last Rama shot a blazing arrow that pierced its heart. As Maricha fell, he took his true form, and with his last breath he cried out in a voice exactly like Rama’s: “Ha Sita! Ha Lakshmana!” Rama understood the trick at once and hurried back, full of worry.

The ascetic at the door

The cry reached the hut. Sita was terrified and begged Lakshmana to go and help his brother. Lakshmana tried to comfort her. No one in the three worlds could defeat Rama, he said, and this was surely a rakshasa’s trick. He would not leave her alone, for Rama had commanded him to stay.

But in her fear and grief, Sita spoke very harsh and unjust words to Lakshmana, even doubting his loyalty and his intentions. These words hurt Lakshmana deeply. He told her that he could not answer her, for she was like a goddess to him, and that he was going only because she forced him to. He asked the spirits of the forest to protect her, and left with a heavy heart.

This was the moment Ravana had waited for. He came to the hut in the form of a wandering ascetic, wearing saffron robes and carrying a staff and a water pot. Even the trees stopped moving and the Godavari seemed to flow more slowly in fear. Seeing a holy man at her door, Sita welcomed him as a guest and offered him a seat, water and food from the forest.

When he asked who she was, Sita told him simply: she was Janaka’s daughter and Rama’s wife, and they had come to the forest to keep King Dasharatha’s word. Then Ravana revealed himself. He said he was the king of Lanka, praised her beauty and asked her to become his chief queen. Sita answered without fear that Rama was like a lion and Ravana like a jackal, and that she would never be his. Ravana took his true, fearful form, seized Sita and placed her in his chariot.

Jatayu’s battle

As the chariot rose into the air, Sita cried out to Rama and Lakshmana. She called to the trees, the flowering bushes, the Godavari and the animals of the forest to tell Rama that Ravana had taken her. Then she saw Jatayu, the old king of the vultures, resting on a tall tree, and called to him for help.

Jatayu woke and spoke to Ravana with dignity. He said that he had ruled the birds for sixty thousand years, that Rama was the lord of the world, and that a king must protect other men’s wives, not carry them off. “I am old and you are young and armed,” he said, “but while I live you shall not take Sita.” Then he flew at Ravana.

The battle in the sky was fierce. With beak and claws Jatayu broke Ravana’s bow, struck down his donkeys, killed his charioteer and smashed the chariot itself. Ravana fell to the ground with Sita in his arms. But the old bird grew tired, and Ravana rose again. With his sword he cut off Jatayu’s wings and feet, and the brave Jatayu fell to the earth, close to death.

Ravana seized Sita once more and flew south through the sky. Sita wept, and her flowers and ornaments fell as she was carried away. Passing over a mountain, she saw five vanaras sitting on a peak. Quickly she tied some ornaments in her yellow silk upper cloth and dropped it among them, hoping that they would one day tell Rama. Ravana did not notice.

Ravana crossed the ocean and brought Sita to his palace in Lanka. He showed her all his riches and begged her to be his queen. Sita placed a blade of grass between them and refused him. Ravana gave her twelve months to change her mind, and then had her kept in the Ashoka grove, guarded by fierce rakshasis.

Rama’s grief and Jatayu’s last words

Meanwhile Rama, hurrying home, met Lakshmana on the way, and his heart sank. “Why did you leave Sita alone?” he asked. Lakshmana explained that Sita’s harsh words had forced him to go. Rama said that he should not have left her, whatever she had said in her fear. They ran to the hut and found it empty.

Rama searched everywhere, calling Sita’s name. He asked the trees, the river and the mountains whether they had seen her. The deer of the forest looked toward the south and ran in that direction, as if showing the way. The brothers found scattered flowers, and then signs of a great fight: a broken bow, armour, pieces of a chariot and the bodies of donkeys.

Rama’s grief turned into terrible anger. He said that if the gods did not return Sita, he would destroy all the worlds with his arrows. Lakshmana calmed him with wise words: the whole world should not be punished for the crime of one person; they should find the wrongdoer and punish him alone. Rama listened to his younger brother and grew calm.

Further on they found Jatayu lying on the ground, badly wounded. Jatayu told Rama that Ravana had carried Sita away to the south, and that he had tried to stop him and been struck down. He comforted Rama, saying that Sita had been taken at the hour called Vinda, so the thief would surely lose what he had stolen. He said that Ravana was the son of Vishrava and the brother of Kubera, and then his life left him.

Rama wept for Jatayu as for his own father. “This king of birds gave his life for me,” he said. He gathered wood, lit the funeral fire himself and performed all the rites with love, and Valmiki tells us that Jatayu went to the highest worlds. Then, with heavy hearts but firm resolve, Rama and Lakshmana turned south and began the long search for Sita.

The Empty Hut

In the last chapter Ravana carried Sita away towards the south, while brave Jatayu lay wounded on the ground. Now we return to Rama. After killing Maricha, he was hurrying back to the ashram at Panchavati. Jackals howled behind him and bad omens appeared on every side. Then he saw Lakshmana coming towards him, and his heart sank. “Why have you left Sita alone in a forest full of rakshasas?” he asked.

Lakshmana explained with folded hands. When Sita heard Maricha’s false cry in Rama’s voice, she was sure that Rama was in danger. She pleaded with Lakshmana to go, and in her fear she spoke very harsh words to him. Only then did he leave, much against his will. Rama said gently but firmly, “Even so, brother, you should not have left her because of words spoken in fear.”

When they reached the ashram, it was empty. The deerskins and the seats of kusha grass lay scattered, and the little hut looked bare, like a lotus pond in winter. Rama ran from tree to tree calling Sita’s name. He asked the kadamba, the bilva and the ashoka trees, “Have you seen my Sita? Tell me where she has gone.” The trees could give no answer.

He hurried to the bank of the Godavari, where Sita often went to fetch water, and asked the river. But the Godavari stayed silent, as if afraid of Ravana. Then the deer of the forest rose together, looked at Rama, turned their faces towards the south and gazed up at the sky. Lakshmana understood at once. “Brother, they are showing us the direction. Let us go south.”

Going south they found flowers that had fallen from Sita’s hair, and then the great footprints of a rakshasa. Further on lay a broken bow decorated with gold, a shattered chariot, a royal parasol, pieces of armour and drops of blood. Rama thought that rakshasas had fought over Sita and had harmed her. His grief turned into a blazing anger.

Rama’s Anger and Jatayu’s Last Words

Rama fitted a shining arrow to his bow. “If the gods do not give my Sita back to me,” he said, “I will shake all three worlds with my arrows.” His face blazed like the fire at the end of an age. The forest creatures trembled, for they had never seen gentle Rama like this.

Lakshmana stood before him with folded hands. “Brother, you have always been calm, kind and self-controlled. It is not right to destroy the whole world for the wrong done by one person. Let us first find out who did this. Even the greatest beings have faced sorrow in their lives. You are wise, so bear this grief with wisdom.” Slowly Rama’s anger cooled, and they walked on.

Soon they saw Jatayu, huge like a mountain peak, lying on the ground covered in blood. At first Rama took him for a rakshasa who had harmed Sita and raised his bow. But the old bird spoke in a weak voice: “The lady you are searching for, and my own life, have both been taken by Ravana. I fought him, broke his chariot and his bow, but he cut off my wings.”

Rama threw down his bow, held Jatayu in his arms and wept. With his last breath Jatayu said that Ravana, the son of Vishravas and the brother of Kubera, had flown towards the south. “He took her at the hour called Vinda,” he said, “a time in which what is stolen soon returns to its owner. Do not grieve, you will get Sita back.” Saying this, the king of vultures gave up his life.

Rama said, “Lakshmana, this king of birds gave his life for me. He is as worthy of honour as my father Dasharatha.” With his own hands Rama built the funeral fire, performed the last rites for Jatayu and offered water to him in the Godavari, as a son does for his father. Blessed by Rama, Jatayu went to the highest worlds.

Kabandha

The brothers went on through the Krauncha forest into a thick and gloomy jungle. Suddenly they were caught by a gigantic being. He had no head and no neck. A single great eye burned in his chest, and his mouth, full of sharp teeth, was in his belly. His two arms were a yojana long, and with them he grabbed every creature that came near. This was Kabandha.

He held both brothers tightly and said, “You have come to me as my food.” Lakshmana grew anxious, but Rama stayed steady. Quickly the brothers drew their swords. Rama cut off his right arm and Lakshmana his left. Kabandha fell to the ground with a great roar and asked who they were. Lakshmana told him that this was Rama, son of King Dasharatha.

Kabandha was filled with joy. “Welcome! It is my good fortune that you have come.” He told them that long ago he had a handsome and shining form, but he used to frighten the sages by taking a terrible shape. Sage Sthulashira cursed him to keep that frightening shape. When he begged for mercy, the sage said, “When Rama cuts off your arms and burns you in the forest, you will be free.”

Later, proud of the long life that Brahma had given him, he attacked Indra. Indra struck him with the thunderbolt, which drove his head and thighs into his body. So that he could live, Indra gave him these long arms and the mouth in his belly. “Burn my body,” said Kabandha, “and then I will tell you who can help you find Sita.”

The brothers placed his body in a pit and lit a fire. From the flames rose a shining being in clean garments, seated in a divine chariot. He said, “Make friends with Sugriva, the vanara, son of the Sun god, whom his elder brother Vali has driven out. He lives on Rishyamuka mountain near Lake Pampa, and he knows every land where rakshasas live.” He also told them about Shabari at Matanga’s ashram, and then rose into the sky.

Shabari’s Long Wait

Following Kabandha’s directions, the brothers walked west and reached the western shore of Lake Pampa. There stood the ashram of Sage Matanga, and there lived Shabari, an old ascetic woman who had served Matanga’s disciples for many years. When she saw the two princes, she rose at once, bowed at their feet with joined hands and welcomed them with water for their feet and for sipping.

Rama asked kindly, “Has your penance gone well? Are you at peace?” Shabari answered, “Today my penance has borne its fruit, because I have seen you. The sages I served went to the higher worlds when you came to Chitrakuta. Before leaving, they told me, ‘Rama will come to this holy ashram. Receive him as your guest, and after seeing him you will go to the imperishable worlds.’”

“For you,” she said, “I have gathered many kinds of forest fruits from the banks of Pampa.” Rama accepted her offering with love. He did not see her age or her humble life; he saw only her pure devotion and her long years of waiting. For Shabari, this was the day her whole life had been leading to.

Then she showed them the Matanga forest. There stood the altar where the sages had worshipped; even now it shone with their power. The bark garments they had hung on the trees to dry were still not dry, and the flowers they had offered had not faded. She told them that by the power of the sages’ thought, the waters of the seven seas had come there for their bathing.

Then, with Rama’s permission, Shabari offered herself into a sacred fire and rose in a shining form, bright like lightning, to the holy worlds where her teachers had gone. Rama said to Lakshmana, “We have seen this wonderful ashram. Now let us go to Pampa and find Sugriva.” For the first time since Sita was taken, hope began to rise in his heart.