The Valmiki Ramayana
3.6: Garuḍa to the Rescue
Indrajit entered Lanka surrounded by the chief Rākṣasas, all of them bellowing in joy. The Rākṣasa prince went quickly to his father’s palace and told him the news. “Your two mortal enemies lie killed on the battlefield, struck down by my sharp arrows. Dispel your fear, O king. Victory is now ours.”
Rāvaṇa sprang to his feet and embraced his son. He was elated and immediately called for the Rākṣasīs guarding Sītā. He instructed them to take the princess in the Pushpaka chariot and show her Rāma and Lakṣman. He felt sure that Sītā would now accept him as Her husband.
The Rākṣasīs left at once and brought Sītā. They placed Her on the chariot along with Trijata, who was friendly with the princess. Ordered by Rāvaṇa, the chariot rose high above Lanka and went over the battlefield. Sītā then saw Rāma and Lakṣman lying in a pool of blood and covered all over with arrows. She was stricken with agony. Suspecting Their death, She held on to Trijata and cried vehemently, “How has this happened? Learned astrologers foretold that I would never be widowed. They predicted that I would be the wife of a pious ruler of the world and would have powerful sons by Him. Today they have all been proven false.”
Sītā was completely bewildered. Her body shook as She grieved, comforted by Trijata. She thought of Kaushalya and Sumitra. How would those godly ladies live after hearing that their sons had been killed? Indeed, the whole of Ayodhya would be plunged into despair. Surely destiny was unfathomable and all-powerful. If Rāma and Lakṣman could be struck down in battle, then even Death itself could be killed.
Trijata carefully surveyed the scene below. She spoke gently to Sītā. “From the appearance of the monkeys I deduce that Your husband still lives. An army whose leader is slain is cast about like a rudderless boat on a high sea. These monkeys are standing firm in their battle array. Clearly they expect Rāma to recover. I also see that Rāma and Lakṣman are still possessed of bodily luster. They are surely still living. Do not lament, O princess.”
Sītā embraced Trijata saying, “May your words prove true.” She felt a little reassured and prayed that the princes would soon be restored to strength. The chariot returned to Lanka carrying the mournful princess back to the ashoka grove.
* * *
The monkeys surrounding Rāma softly called out His name, trying to awaken Him. Slowly Rāma opened His eyes and looked around. He saw Lakṣman lying unconscious by His side, His face streaked with blood. Rāma spoke in a voice choked with sobs. “What purpose of mine will be served by recovering Sītā when My gallant brother lies slain in battle. I might find another wife like Sītā, but I could never find a companion like Lakṣman anywhere in this world. This prince followed Me to the forest, sharing with Me every happiness and distress. I shall now follow Him to Yamarāja’s abode.”
Rāma condemned Himself. It was His fault that Lakṣman had been killed. What was the use of His vain boasting that Rāvaṇa would be slain and Vibhishana installed as the ruler of Lanka? Now everything was finished. Rāma told Sugrīva to return to Kishkindha. He thanked him and all the other monkeys and bears for their service. Now they could go home.
The monkeys stood with tears falling from their eyes. Sugrīva burned with fury. He looked toward Lanka. The Rākṣasas would pay for this outrage. He would personally annihilate every last one of them, including Rāvaṇa and Indrajit. Then he would recover Sītā and bring Her back to Rāma. Clenching his fists he said to Aṅgada, “Take Rāma and Lakṣman back to Kishkindha. Expert physicians may heal Them with celestial herbs. For my part I shall remain here until the business is finished. No Rākṣasa will survive today.”
As Sugrīva spoke, there suddenly arose a fierce wind. Dark clouds appeared with flashes of lightning. The ground shook and trees toppled over. A sound like the steady beat of some gigantic drum was heard. The monkeys gazed around and saw in the sky Garuḍa, Viṣṇu’s great eagle carrier. The powerful bird glided down, landing near Rāma. As he descended the serpent bonds of the brothers immediately fell away. The ethereal snakes that had wrapped themselves around the princes quickly disappeared into the sky.
Garuḍa, who appeared in a half-human form with two arms, bowed before Rāma with folded palms. He knelt by the brothers and gently wiped Their faces. At once Their wounds were healed and Their bodies became brilliant. Lakṣman opened His eyes and sat up. All of the monkeys cheered loudly and leapt about with screeches of joy. Garuḍa raised the two brothers. Rāma embraced him with affection, saying, “It is fortunate indeed that you have appeared here, O gallant bird. We have been saved from a great calamity at the hands of Indrajit. Pray tell us, who are you, glowing with celestial brilliance and adorned with heavenly jewels and garlands?”
Garuḍa told Rāma his name. “Surely you know me, O Rāma, as I am always Your servant. Consider me Your own breath moving outside of Your body. I heard that Indrajit had employed the Nāga sons of Kadru. He converted those powerful serpents into arrows by means of sorcery. I came here quickly with a desire to dispatch my venomous prey, but they fled away simply upon seeing me. Grant me leave to pursue them.”
Rāma again embraced Garuḍa and gave him permission to leave. The bird assured Rāma that the Rākṣasas would soon be overcome. Indrajit would not again be able to employ the serpent weapon. Then, after going respectfully around the two princes, he rose into the skies, shining like the sun and filling the whole region with the wind raised by his wings.
Rāma and Lakṣman stood ready for battle. The monkeys and bears roared in joy, uprooting huge trees and brandishing them. They swarmed toward the gates of Lanka, shouting for the Rākṣasas to come out and fight. Beating clay drums and blowing their conches, the army raised a massive tumult, which terrified the Rākṣasas, who gazed from the city walls in amazement.
* * *
Rāvaṇa sat in his palace. He had spent the night celebrating, having sent messengers all around Lanka to declare that Rāma and Lakṣman were dead. As dawn approached, he was thinking of Sītā. Now She would surely be his. He straightened his disheveled clothes and prepared to go to the princess. Suddenly from outside the city he heard the crashing of drums and the shouts of Rāma’s army. “What is this?” he exclaimed in surprise. He got up with a start and shouted for his ministers. How could the monkeys rally with their leader slain? Something was wrong.
The demon ordered his ministers to find out what was happening. Spies left at once and went to the top of the city walls. From there they saw Rāma, Lakṣman and Sugrīva at the head of the army, besieging the city. The spies reported to Rāvaṇa. “The two human brothers are standing like a pair of lordly elephants that have broken their fetters. All around Them stand the monkeys and bears roaring for battle.”
Rāvaṇa turned pale. This was a disaster. Surely the Rākṣasas were in danger now. Rāma had escaped from a weapon which had even overpowered Indra. It seemed that some invincible power protected this human.
The Rākṣasa king turned to his commander-in-chief Dhumraksha and ordered him to march at once to fight with Rāma. “Take with you the mightiest of the Rākṣasas,” Rāvaṇa commanded. “Use any means whatsoever. Rāma must be defeated!”
Dhumraksha left Rāvaṇa’s palace roaring exultantly and longing for battle. He was surrounded by demons with fierce features who clutched spiked maces, razor-sharp spears and heavy iron cudgels. Clad in golden mail and mounted upon chariots drawn by fiends, they rushed out of the city gates. They were followed by waves of other Rākṣasas, some riding massive black steeds and others on elephants as large as hills. Laughing loudly, they went out the western gate where Hanumān was stationed.
As the Rākṣasas advanced, they saw numerous terrible omens. Ferocious birds of prey circled screaming over the demons. They descended upon Dhumraksha’s standard and fought together, sending a shower of feathers onto the demon. A headless trunk, wet with blood, rose from the ground and ran across the path of the charging Rākṣasas. The earth shook and blood fell from the heavens. Darkness enveloped the four quarters and the wind blew strongly into the demons’ faces.
Not deterred, Dhumraksha raced on at the head of his troops. He shouted out challenges in a voice resembling the braying of a donkey. The monkeys roared back and charged. The two armies appeared like two oceans surging toward one another and then meeting with a tumultuous crash. Demons and monkeys fell by the hundreds of thousands, pierced and smashed by weapons and trees.
Some monkeys were transfixed by lances and spears. Others were cut to pieces by waves of arrows. Some were hacked down with swords, and still others were trampled by elephants. In response the monkeys crushed the Rākṣasas with great boulders. They reduced some of the demons to pulp by bringing tree trunks down onto them. They leapt upon the chariots and tore at the Rākṣasas with their nails and teeth. Monkeys lifted demons and dashed them to the ground. Enraged, the Rākṣasas fought back throwing punches and kicks that felt like the striking of thunderbolts.
Dhumraksha was possessed by a madness for battle. He wrought havoc among the Vanara troops. He could hardly be seen as he rushed about whirling his various weapons. Arrows loosed from his bow seemed to fly in all directions at once. Monkeys fell on all sides, vomiting blood. Heads, arms and legs flew about. The monkey army was dispersed and put to flight by the enraged Dhumraksha, who thundered like autumnal clouds.
Seeing his troops routed by the Rākṣasa, Hanumān became furious. His eyes turned red and he took hold of an enormous boulder. With a roar he hurled the rock at Dhumraksha’s chariot, but Dhumraksha nimbly leapt clear. The chariot, along with its horses and driver, was reduced to a mangled heap. Hanumān then took up a sal tree and whirled it around, attacking Dhumraksha’s guards. Within moments he pounded hundreds of demons to death. The monkey then grasped a mountain peak and raced toward Dhumraksha, who stood with his mace uplifted. As Hanumān approached him the Rākṣasa brought down his mace, which was bedecked with numerous shining points, upon Hanumān’s head. It sounded like an explosion, but the monkey was not shaken. Hanumān smashed his mountain peak on Dhumraksha’s skull. With his head crushed and all his limbs shattered, Dhumraksha fell dead to the ground.
The other demons ran back toward the city howling in fear. Rāvaṇa heard of Dhumraksha’s death and he hissed like an enraged serpent. He spoke at once to Vajradamstra, another of the great Rākṣasa champions. “Sally forth, O hero! Make short work of our enemies.”
Replying “So be it,” Vajradamstra circumambulated Rāvaṇa and left his palace.
Vajradamstra was artistically adorned with gem-encrusted armlets and a shining diadem. He put on a golden coat of mail that blazed like fire. Taking up his bow he mounted his brilliant chariot, which was dressed with hundreds of pennants and decorated with carvings of refined gold. He came out of the southern gate followed by countless troops holding scimitars, strangely-shaped iron clubs, polished maces, bows, javelins, spears, razor-edged discuses, swords and double-headed axes. They raised a great uproar as they rushed toward the monkey army.
Again many evil omens were seen. Dazzling meteors fell and hideous jackals belched tongues of fire. The demon troops stumbled and fell on level ground. Vajradamstra paid no heed to the grim portents foretelling his defeat. He thundered out his war cry, rallying the Rākṣasas to the fight.
The monkeys met them with furious impetuosity. Demons and monkeys collided like mountains clashing together. Warriors fell with their heads and limbs severed. Others dropped down, being sliced in half from head to toe. Some were crushed and some beaten to a pulp. The fighters found their feet sinking in a mire of flesh and blood-soaked earth. From a distance the battle produced a sound that resembled a musical performance, with the clash of weapons for its drums, the twang of bowstrings its vīṇās and the roar of warriors its loud singing.
Vajradamstra created havoc on the battlefield. From his chariot he released tens of thousands of steel arrows with razor-sharp heads. He moved with the speed of the wind, seeming like Death himself come for the destruction of all beings. The formidable Rākṣasa employed mystical weapons of every kind and mowed down the monkey troops like wheat in a field.
Seeing the destruction, Aṅgada became maddened. With his two serpent-like arms he clasped a great tree and whirled it around with blinding speed. The monkey prince danced with the tree on the battlefield and crushed innumerable Rākṣasas. He moved through the demon troops like a lion through a flock of deer. The Rākṣasas fell back in terror as Aṅgada wheeled. Chariots, elephants, horses and Rākṣasas fell on all sides, smashed by the infuriated Vanara.
The earth became decorated with golden poles fallen from chariots, as well as with bejeweled armlets, necklaces and diadems of every sort. A stream of blood flowed on the battlefield carrying the heads and limbs of Rākṣasas slain by Aṅgada, who could not be checked.
Vajradamstra saw his troops being routed and, roaring in fury, he rushed toward Aṅgada and shouted out a challenge. He released arrows that flew with unerring accuracy and pierced eight or nine monkeys at a time. In his wake the demon left heaps of slain monkey warriors, who lay with their teeth clenched and eyes still staring in anger.
Aṅgada stood firm to receive the fast-approaching Rākṣasa. Vajradamstra shot a thousand arrows at Aṅgada and sent up a great shout. The monkey was pierced all over, but he was not shaken. He hurled his tree at the demon and it whirled through the air with a sound like a rushing gale. Without effort, Vajradamstra tore the tree to pieces with his arrows even as it flew toward him. Aṅgada leapt up a nearby hill and tore off a crag. Spinning around several times he threw it with tremendous force at the Rākṣasa. Vajradamstra immediately jumped down from his chariot with his iron mace in his hand.
The rock descended upon the Rākṣasa’s chariot and shattered it into small pieces, crushing the driver and horses. Even as the crag fell Aṅgada had taken up another and hurled it at the Rākṣasa himself. It hit him full on the head and he fell to the earth, vomiting blood. He lay there unconscious for some minutes with his mace clasped to his bosom. Coming again to his senses, he got up and flew at Aṅgada, hitting him in the chest with his mace. The monkey remained steady and the demon began striking him with his fists. Aṅgada returned his blows and the two fought a fierce hand-to-hand battle for some time, both spitting blood and breathing heavily.
Aṅgada uprooted another tree and he stood adorned by its flowers and fruit. The demon seized hold of a shield made of bull hide and a great shining sword decorated with golden bells. The two combatants circled one another, each looking for an opportunity to strike the other. They closed and separated again and again, raining down fierce blows. Both became exhausted and sank to their knees.
Suddenly Aṅgada, who was thinking of Rāma, sprang to his feet. He took up a fierce-looking sword and swung it at Vajradamstra’s neck, lopping off his head. The Rākṣasa dropped to the earth, spurting forth a jet of dark-red blood.
With their leader slain the other Rākṣasas fled in fear, pursued by the monkeys. Hanging their heads in shame they swiftly re-entered Lanka. The monkeys surrounded the overjoyed Aṅgada and praised his wonderful feat in killing Vajradamstra.
3.7: Rāvaṇa Enters the Fray
Rāvaṇa saw his bedraggled troops returning defeated. His eyes were crimson with rage and he breathed heavily. He ordered the next of his powerful commanders, Durdharsha, to march out for battle. The demon had faced the gods and Dānavas in battle and he feared nothing. Mounting his jewel-encrusted chariot, which had eight iron wheels that stood as tall as two men, he raced out of the city. His voice resounded like thunderclaps as he rallied the Rākṣasa forces who followed him in the hundreds of thousands. Like the other Rākṣasa chiefs before him he observed numerous ill omens, but he too ignored the portents and rushed toward the monkeys.
Another terrible carnage ensued. Rains of sharp arrows and weapons from the Rākṣasas were met with volleys of rocks and trees from the monkeys. The combatants fell upon one another in a frenzy, each seeking to violently kill his adversary. No mercy was shown in the furious fight. A great dust cloud rose above the battlefield which screened the sky and enveloped the fighters. They could hardly perceive one another, and monkeys struck monkeys, while demons cut down other demons. Soon hundreds of thousands of Vanaras and Rākṣasas lay stretched out on the ground, prey for vultures and jackals.
Durdharsha exhibited a wild rage. Standing on his chariot he loosed venomous shafts that tore the monkeys apart, breaking and routing the ranks of Rāma’s army. Seeing this, Hanumān advanced toward him. Durdharsha immediately showered him with innumerable sharp arrows, but Hanumān received the shafts like a mountain receiving rainfall. Laughing heartily, Hanumān ran at the Rākṣasa, causing the earth to shake. With one hand he took up a great boulder and raised it above his head.
As Hanumān stood with the uplifted rock, Durdharsha shot crescent-headed arrows that smashed it to pieces. Hanumān laughed again and uprooted an ashwakarna tree as big as a mountain. He whirled it around and ran at the demon who was stationed some distance from him. As Hanumān bounded with the tree spinning, he struck down dozens of Rākṣasas mounted upon elephants and chariots. Durdharsha saw him approach like a furious tempest, and full of trepidation, began to work his massive bow more furiously. The demon shot hundreds of fierce-looking arrows into Hanumān’s body. As the valiant monkey bled, he appeared like a mountain overgrown with trees full of red blossoms.
Determining to kill Durdharsha, Hanumān shouted, “Victory to Rāma!” and rushed at the Rākṣasa with the tree raised aloft. The demon hardly had time to place another arrow upon his bow before Hanumān reached him. The furious monkey brought the tree down onto the Rākṣasa’s head with his full force. Durdharsha fell from his chariot dead. The other Rākṣasas wailed in despair. They dropped their weapons and fled in all directions, falling over each other in their panic.
The monkeys cheered Hanumān and taunted the defeated demons. Rāma and Lakṣman then personally honored the victorious monkey. In the sky the gods assembled and chanted auspicious hymns in Hanumān’s praise. Hanumān enjoyed the glory even as Viṣṇu had upon killing the demons in days gone by.
In Lanka, Rāvaṇa was becoming more and more exasperated. He looked at Prahasta, the mightiest of his Rākṣasa commanders. “I do not see many who are capable of saving Lanka at this critical juncture, O courageous one. Apart from you, Indrajit, Kumbhakarna and myself, there are none who can undertake such a burden. Rāma and His troops are indeed formidable, but the fickle-minded monkeys will be put to flight when they hear your roar on the battlefield. O Prahasta, not even the mightiest gods could stand before you.”
Although resolute to fight to the end the demon king was beginning to feel misgivings. There was something exceptional about these monkeys and bears. Some divine force was empowering them. Rāvaṇa thought of Rāma. No doubt the final battle would be between himself and that human prince. The demon reflected upon his boon. Only a human could kill him. Would it be Rāma? He recoiled from the thought. This was not the time for fear. The battle must continue.
Rāvaṇa urged Prahasta to march out with another enormous contingent. He told the Rākṣasa chief to be firm. Even though victory was never certain, it was always preferable for a warrior to die in battle than in any other way. Rāvaṇa asked Prahasta if there was anything he needed. The demon replied, “I need only your blessings, my lord. Having ever been honored by you with gifts and kind words, how can I not render service to you when the time has come? Neither wife, sons, wealth nor even life itself is dearer to me than your service. Today the vultures will feast heartily on the flesh of monkeys.”
Prahasta walked around Rāvaṇa with folded palms and then left for the battle. He assembled a horde of Rākṣasas, all eager to fight. In less than an hour a force of over five hundred thousand Rākṣasas was ready. They adorned themselves with garlands sanctified by sacred mantras, put on armor and grasped their weapons. They thronged around Prahasta, waiting to depart.
The demon commander had the iron portcullis at the northern gate lifted and the army swarmed out with a great cry. Prahasta rode at their head in his terrific war chariot furnished with every kind of weapon and driven by a hundred steeds. A large standard of brilliant cat’s-eye stones bearing the emblem of a serpent stood in the middle of his bejeweled chariot. Prahasta shone like the sun as he charged laughing toward the enemy.
Dozens of vultures rose up and began circling anticlockwise around Prahasta. A large meteor dropped from the heavens. Clouds rumbled with a sound resembling the braying of a donkey, and showers of blood fell.
Prahasta ignored the omens and pressed ahead with full speed. He met the advancing monkeys and penetrated deeply into their ranks. They immediately surrounded the Rākṣasa and assailed him with rocks and trees. The demon simply shrugged off the missiles without being disturbed. He sent volleys of arrows at the monkeys and roared like a thundercloud. His vast Rākṣasa force fell upon the monkey troops with shouts of joy.
Monkeys and demons were again destroyed in large numbers. Some monkeys were run through with pikes and lances, some cut down with razor-sharp discuses and some hacked to pieces with axes. Still others were clubbed to death with iron mallets, while others were crushed with huge maces. The monkeys smashed thousands of Rākṣasas with mountainous crags and trees. They struck down the Rākṣasas with their bare hands and pounded them to death. A tumultuous clamor arose as heroic fighters roared in exultation or screamed in pain.
Prahasta himself caused terrible havoc among the monkeys. He knew the secrets of all kinds of mystic weapons and sent arrows in such numbers that they resembled dark clouds. All around his chariot waves of monkeys fell to the ground, pierced in their vital parts. The battlefield resembled a swirling river with heaps of slain warriors as its banks, lances and spears its trees and torrents of blood for its vast sheet of water. That river rushed toward the sea of death, sweeping away all in its path.
Seeing Prahasta annihilating his troops, the Vanara commander-in-chief Nīla rushed toward the demon. Prahasta saw Nīla approach and he drew his bow to full length, releasing deadly shafts that pierced the monkey. Not minding his wounds, Nīla took up a tree and struck the Rākṣasa as he stood upon his chariot. Prahasta roared in fury and sent hundreds of arrows at Nīla. The monkey could not check the shafts and he received them with closed eyes. Nīla fell to his knees and braced himself against the arrows’ impact, with his mind absorbed in thought of Rāma. Rallying himself, the Vanara chief took up a sal tree. He brought it down with tremendous force onto Prahasta’s chariot, smashing it to pieces and killing the horses.
Prahasta clutched hold of a fearsome iron mallet and leapt down from his shattered chariot. He ran at Nīla and a fierce fight ensued at close quarters. Prahasta struck Nīla on the forehead with his terrible weapon. Blood flowed in waves from the monkey’s head. He hurled a boulder onto Prahasta’s chest but, unmoved by that rock, the Rākṣasa again lifted his massive iron mallet and rushed at Nīla. Even as the Rākṣasa closed on him, Nīla took up a mountain peak and smashed it onto his head. The demon’s head split apart and he fell to the ground, deprived of his splendor and his life.
The Rākṣasas were thrown into complete confusion. With their commander-in-chief slain, they did not know which way to turn. The jubilant monkeys overran them and put them to flight. Downcast and defeated, the Rākṣasas re-entered their city.
Rāma and Lakṣman warmly applauded Nīla and then the monkeys rested, awaiting the next wave of Rākṣasas.
* * *
Rāvaṇa was shocked to hear news of Prahasta’s death; his mind tormented with grief and anger. In an anguished voice he said to his ministers, “Our enemy should be held in the highest regard. They have killed Prahasta, who was capable of exterminating Indra’s army. It seems it is time for me to make my appearance at the battle. With a steady stream of blazing arrows I shall consume the army of monkeys. Today I will throw down Rāma and Lakṣman.”
Rāvaṇa looked around at his ministers. They cheered his decision and felt encouraged. Now the monkeys would surely be crushed.
Without losing time, Rāvaṇa sent for his chariot. Honored with auspicious hymns and conch blasts, and to the accompaniment of beating kettledrums, Rāvaṇa mounted his splendid vehicle. He went out of Lanka surrounded by innumerable dark Rākṣasas, who resembled big mountains. The demon appeared like Śiva in the midst of his ghostly followers. He saw ahead of him the immense monkey army springing up with trees and rocks in readiness to receive them.
As the vast Rākṣasa army poured from the city, Rāma turned to Vibhishana and asked him the names of the principal fighters. Vibhishana named them all and then pointed to Rāvaṇa. “That one who looks like the Himalaya mountain, who is surrounded by terrific demons with the heads of tigers, elephants, camels and deer, who shines like the sun and is adorned with a blazing diadem, he is the sovereign lord of all the Rākṣasas, Rāvaṇa.”
Rāma gazed at Rāvaṇa and exclaimed, “There at last is the evil one I seek. I can hardly perceive his actual form, bathed as it is in a brilliant effulgence. Even the gods are not possessed of such brilliance. This demon is accompanied by warriors who seem entirely unapproachable. Indeed, he looks like Death himself surrounded by fiery and hideous fiends. By good fortune this wicked demon has come within My sight. Today I shall freely vent My anger that was born from Sītā’s abduction.”
Rāma took from His quiver a long arrow with a barbed steel head and placed it on his bow. With Lakṣman by His side He faced the rapidly advancing Rākṣasa hordes.
Rāvaṇa raced at the head of his army. He carved his way through the monkeys like a killer whale dividing the ocean waters. Sugrīva took hold of a great mountain crag and ran toward Rāvaṇa, holding it aloft. As the monkey king approached the demon, he hurled the mountain-top, which was covered in numerous trees, straight at his chariot. Rāvaṇa laughed as the mountain sailed through the air. He tore it apart with a hail of golden arrows that resembled streaks of fire.
The Rākṣasa then took out an arrow resembling a huge serpent and released it for Sugrīva’s destruction. The arrow sped like Indra’s thunderbolt and emitted a stream of sparks. It struck Sugrīva on the chest and the monkey groaned in pain and fell senseless to the ground.
As Sugrīva fell the Rākṣasas shouted exultantly. Other powerful Vanara generals immediately took up crags and rushed at Rāvaṇa. They rained down their rocks and trees, but the demon smashed all of them to pieces with his swift arrows. He pierced all of the monkeys with numbers of golden shafts bedecked with jewels. The monkeys fell down, shrieking and crying out to Rāma for protection.
Rāma heard their cries and He advanced toward the demon, but Lakṣman stood before Him and asked that Rāma permit Him to fight with Rāvaṇa first. Rāma looked at His younger brother, who was eager for battle. He assented to His request, but warned Him to be on guard. Rāvaṇa was no ordinary foe.
Lakṣman folded His palms and bowed to Rāma who tightly embraced Him. The young prince then moved off and surveyed Rāvaṇa fighting the monkeys. As He watched He saw Hanumān approach the ten-headed Rākṣasa. The fearless monkey shouted at Rāvaṇa, “You are proud of your boon, O demon. No fear exists in you of gods, demons, Yakṣas or Gandharvas. But beware. There is danger to you from monkeys. My fist will now expel from your body your very life-breath. Try your best to fight with me for your death is now close.”
Hanumān raised his fist and moved toward Rāvaṇa who shouted back at him, “Strike me at once without fear, O monkey. Earn for yourself lasting fame. Having seen the limits of your power, I shall immediately destroy you!”
Hanumān laughed and reminded Rāvaṇa of the fight in the ashoka grove, and of Aksha and the other powerful Rākṣasas he had slain. As he spoke he rushed straight at the demon. Rāvaṇa threw a great blow which hit Hanumān on the chest and sent him reeling. But Hanumān regained his balance and whirling round he struck the demon with his outstretched palm.
Rāvaṇa shook like a mountain in an earthquake. In the heavens the ṛṣis and Siddhas, who were observing the battle, shouted with joy. Rāvaṇa recovered his senses and called out to Hanumān. “Well done, monkey! Your strength and valor are worthy of my praise.”
Hanumān replied that his strength was lamentable as Rāvaṇa still lived. Rāvaṇa rushed at Hanumān and dealt him another tremendous blow, which sent the monkey spinning away. The demon then speedily drove his chariot toward Nīla, who was standing nearby. Rāvaṇa shot thousands of arrows at the monkey chief. Hanumān shouted after him to come back and fight, but the demon paid no heed. He continued to engage with Nīla, who took up a mountaintop and hurled it at the Rākṣasa. With seven crescent-headed arrows Rāvaṇa cut the rock to pieces. Nīla threw great trees at the Rākṣasa, one after another. Sal, aswakarna and mango trees in full blossom flew with speed toward Rāvaṇa. The demon loosed sharp arrows that ripped all the trees to shreds. He then covered Nīla with a hail of sharp-pointed shafts.
Nīla sprang clear of Rāvaṇa’s arrows and, reducing himself to a very small size, he leapt onto the top of Rāvaṇa’s standard. The monkey sprang from the standard to the end of Rāvaṇa’s bow, then onto his diadem and back again to the standard. Rāvaṇa blazed with fury upon seeing Nīla’s insolence. He set an arrow on his bow and charged it with the power of the Āgneyastra, the dangerous fire weapon. Being struck with that missile Nīla fell unconscious to the ground. The monkey was burned all over, but by the grace of his father the fire-god, he was not slain.
Rāvaṇa then looked around and saw Lakṣman. He directed his charioteer to go quickly toward the prince. Lakṣman saw him approach and called out to him, “Here I am to do battle with you, O king of the Rākṣasas. Leave aside the monkeys and fight with Me.”
Rāvaṇa shouted back, “It is fortunate indeed that You have fallen within my sight. Today You shall meet Your end at my hands. Fight with all Your strength, O Raghava!” Rāvaṇa addressed Him derisively as a descendent of the powerful King Raghu.
“What is the use of your bragging?” Lakṣman answered. “Those who are actually strong do not engage in such talk. O sinful one, I know your valor and power. Stand firmly now and fight, for the hour of your demise draws near.”
Rāvaṇa immediately shot seven beautifully plumed arrows at Lakṣman. The prince instantly responded with seven of His own arrows, which struck down Rāvaṇa’s shafts from the air. Again and again Rāvaṇa released deadly arrows, but Lakṣman cut them all down. The demon was astonished at Lakṣman’s speed and skill. He became incensed and fired more and more arrows in swift succession. Lakṣman responded with equal numbers. From His fully drawn bow, He shot at Rāvaṇa arrows that shone like fire and flew with the velocity of lightning.
Suddenly seeing an opportunity, Rāvaṇa released a celestial arrow that penetrated Lakṣman’s defenses and struck Him on the forehead. Lakṣman reeled and His grip on His bow loosened. Crouching down for only a moment He recovered His senses and stood up, instantly releasing an arrow which cut Rāvaṇa’s bow in two. The prince then shot three sharp-pointed arrows which hit the demon on the chest and made him swoon.
When he regained his senses, Rāvaṇa took up from his chariot a huge javelin he had taken from the gods. He hurled it with great force at Lakṣman, and it sped through the air emitting fire and sparks.
Lakṣman struck the javelin with His arrows, but it coursed on and Hit him full in the chest. Stunned by the javelin Lakṣman fell down in a faint. As He lay there burning in agony, Rāvaṇa quickly ran up to Him and attempted to take Him captive. The demon violently caught hold of Lakṣman with his twenty arms and tried to lift Him, but despite exerting himself with all his power, Rāvaṇa was unable to even raise the prince’s arms. He fell back in amazement and quickly leapt back onto his chariot.
Hanumān, who had been observing the battle between Rāvaṇa and Lakṣman, took the opportunity to jump onto Rāvaṇa’s chariot. Whirling his two fists he struck the demon on the chest, making a sound like a great thunderclap which filled the four quarters. Rāvaṇa fell to his knees, blood flowing from his mouths, eyes and ears. He lost consciousness and sank motionless to the floor of his chariot. The gods and ṛṣis, witnessing Hanumān’s incredible feat, shouted in joy.
Feeling anxiety for Lakṣman, Hanumān left aside his dazed foe. He quickly leapt down and gathered up Lakṣman in his arms. The monkey easily lifted the prince although Rāvaṇa, the lifter of Mount Kailāsa, had not been able to budge him. Hanumān carried the unconscious Lakṣman into Rāma’s presence.
Rāma ran His hand over His brother’s face. Slowly Lakṣman came back to consciousness and Rāma said to Him, “The demon tried to take You captive, but that sinful being could not lift You, protected as You are by virtue. I cannot brook this attack upon You, dear brother. I shall immediately go and destroy this demon.”
Hearing this Hanumān folded his palms and asked Rāma, “Please mount upon my back and allow me to carry You to Rāvaṇa. Fight the demon from my back even as Viṣṇu fights upon Garuḍa.”
Rāma at once climbed onto Hanumān’s shoulders and the monkey swiftly went to Rāvaṇa. Twanging His bowstring and making a sharp sound that reverberated like thunder, Rāma called out to the demon, “Stand, O best of the Rākṣasas. You will not escape today. Soon you will follow the path trodden by your fourteen thousand followers in Janasthana.”
Rāvaṇa was seized with anger. He let go hundreds of flaming arrows, which struck Hanumān all over his body. Keeping a tight hold on Rāma, the monkey bore the arrows without flinching. His energy and vigor only grew as Rāvaṇa assailed him.
Rāma was infuriated by Rāvaṇa’s attack on Hanumān. He drew His bow to a circle and fired shafts which tore Rāvaṇa’s chariot to pieces. Its standard, wheels, horses, canopy, shields and driver all fell to the ground. Rāma then struck Rāvaṇa himself on the chest with arrows that flew with blinding speed. The demon, who had withstood Indra’s thunderbolt, was rocked by Rāma’s arrows and he dropped his bow. He swooned and lay gasping. Rāma took up a crescent-headed shaft and tore off Rāvaṇa’s diadem, of which he was so proud. Rāma did not consider the Rākṣasa to be a king in any way. With another arrow He broke apart the demon’s bow. He then spoke to the half-conscious Rāvaṇa.
“You are clearly exhausted from the battle. As you are unable to properly defend yourself, it is not right that I kill you this time. Therefore, O valiant one, return to Lanka. Once you have rested, come out again and you shall witness My strength in battle.”
Rāvaṇa scrambled to his feet. With his chariot shattered, his diadem ripped off and his bow destroyed, the Rākṣasa was a sorry sight. He turned and flew toward Lanka with his vanity crushed. The other Rākṣasas followed him and the battle ceased for the time being. Rāma and Lakṣman comforted the wounded monkeys and they all rested, awaiting the return of Rāvaṇa and his troops.
3.8: The Colossal Demon
Rāvaṇa returned to Lanka feeling highly disturbed. Overcome by Rāma like an elephant defeated by a lion, he felt humiliated. Remembering the force of Rāma’s irresistible arrows, he wondered what action to take. He summoned his counselors, who then entered the council chamber and surrounded Rāvaṇa as he sat upon his throne. The demon looked around and spoke to them, still shaking from his fight with Rāma.
“It seems that all my asceticism has proved useless, for I have been utterly vanquished by a mere mortal. I am now recalling Brahmā’s boon, which excluded protection from humans. I think this Rāma is the one referred to by King Anaranya, long ago slain by me. Again the curse of Vedavati comes to mind. Surely that lady has been born as Sītā. The predictions of those endowed with divine sight always come to pass. Considering all this, O mighty Rākṣasas, strive in every way to protect me. A great danger has now arrived at my door.”
Rāvaṇa then thought of Kumbhakarna. It was time to rouse him. When his fearsome brother marched out, the monkeys would flee in all directions. In battle his body grew to immense proportions. With each step he took he could crush an entire division of warriors. He would make short work of Rāma’s army. But how to wake him? Brahmā’s boon to him was more like a curse. He remained buried in the deepest sleep for six months, impervious to everything. It had only been ten days since he had last gone to sleep.
Rāvaṇa issued orders for the Rākṣasas to go in their thousands to Kumbhakarna’s chamber. They should raise a terrific din and try to wake him. The Rākṣasas left at once and went quickly to Kumbhakarna’s abode which was in a subterranean cavern. Pushing back the enormous gates, the Rākṣasas entered his cavern. They were deafened by the sound of his snoring and almost blown over by the blast of his breath. The Rākṣasas then saw Kumbhakarna’s stupendous body lying in slumber within the vast cave, which was lit by innumerable celestial gems. They piled up great mounds of meat and other foods by his side. Heaps of antelopes, buffaloes and boars were placed next to him, along with massive pails of blood. They anointed him with heavenly perfumes and daubed him with the finest sandal-paste. Costly incense was lit and crowds of Yatudhanas began to extol Kumbhakarna with poetic phrases. Other Rākṣasas thundered like clouds and blew their great conchshells with full force. Clapping their arms, beating drums and roaring like lions, the demons raised a tremendous uproar. As the noise issued from the cave, beasts fled in all directions and birds fell down stunned.
But Kumbhakarna did not stir. The Rākṣasas then took hold of maces, mallets, boulders and flat swords. They beat the limbs of the colossal Rākṣasa. Hundreds of demons mounted Kumbhakarna’s chest and pounded him with their fists, but were thrown off by the wind of his breath. Ten thousand Rākṣasas surrounded him and all at once began to roar and strike his body with their hard fists. Still he would not awaken.
Unable to rouse Kumbhakarna, the Rākṣasas became more and more furious. They made an even louder noise, hitting huge drums with all their strength and blowing their conches taken from the bottom of the ocean. Some of them tore out his hair while others bit his ears. Hundreds of pails of water were thrown on Kumbhakarna’s face.
The Rākṣasas then had a thousand elephants run up and down Kumbhakarna’s monstrous body while at the same time striking him with fully grown sal trees. At last he began to stir. Feeling a light touch on his body Kumbhakarna opened his eyes and stretched his limbs. The Rākṣasas and elephants were thrown to the ground and scattered as he sat up and yawned. His mouth appeared like another great cavern and his luminous eyes resembled two blazing planets.
Kumbhakarna reached out and scooped up the food that lay around him. He consumed all of it and quaffed down many pails of blood and wine. When he was sated, the other demons came and respectfully bowed before him. Looking at them with eyes still heavy from sleep, Kumbhakarna questioned them.
“Why have I been roused from my slumber? I hope everything is well with Rāvaṇa and with Lanka. Or perhaps some great peril has arrived. If so, then I shall proceed from here at once to remove the cause of your fear without delay. Tell me, O Rākṣasas, what should I do?”
A minister of Rāvaṇa named Yupaksha replied. “A formidable danger has beset us all of a sudden. Monkeys like great mountains have laid siege to the city. Each of them resembles the single monkey who killed Prince Aksha and set fire to Lanka. At their head is Rāma, sorely grieved and angered by Sītā’s abduction. Even our lord Rāvaṇa was overpowered by Him in an encounter and then released.”
Kumbhakarna was not surprised. He had already warned his brother about Rāma. It seemed that the time for the inevitable battle had arrived. Rāma’s power would now be tested to the full. Kumbhakarna spoke in a voice that boomed around the cavern. “This very day I shall wipe out the entire army of monkeys. The Rākṣasas may gorge themselves with their flesh. I myself shall drink the blood of Rāma and Lakṣman.”
Kumbhakarna sprang to his feet and washed his face. He called for more drink and quickly swallowed two thousand pails of strong wine. Slightly inebriated and anticipating the excitement of battle, the Rākṣasa left his cave and marched toward Rāvaṇa’s palace, shaking the earth with his every step. He was surrounded by Rākṣasas who ran with joined palms and continuously sang his praises.
From outside the city, the monkeys saw Kumbhakarna rising above the city walls like a mountain peak. They cried in fear and fell stunned to the earth. Some fled in all directions, seized by panic. Seeing Kumbhakarna, who was adorned with a blazing diadem, moving within the city, the monkeys were struck with terror. They rushed to Rāma’s tent, calling for Him to come out quickly.
Rāma came out holding His bow. He saw the huge Rākṣasa, glowing with a brilliant effulgence. Rāma’s eyes opened wide with astonishment. He asked Vibhishana, “Who is this fellow resembling in every way a shining mountain? Simply upon seeing him, the monkeys have been put to flight. I have never seen such a creature before.”
Vibhishana told Rāma everything about Kumbhakarna. Describing the power of Rāvaṇa’s immense brother, he said, “This demon has defeated Indra and all the gods in battle. He has crushed and devoured tens of thousands of mighty Daityas and Dānavas. Indeed, this one has consumed innumerable living beings. It was for this reason that Brahmā contrived to have him sent into continuous slumber. The gods feared that he would render all the worlds bereft of creatures, all of them eaten by him. Obviously Rāvaṇa, fearful of You, has roused him for the battle.”
Vibhishana suggested that Rāma inform the monkeys that Kumbhakarna was only a mechanical device. Otherwise they would never be able to muster up the courage to face him in battle.
Rāma smiled. There was no need for that; He would Himself deal with this massive mountain of a Rākṣasa. He ordered Nīla to quickly array the troops for battle. They should be reassured that Rāma would Himself face the colossus. Taking hold of mountain peaks, trees and various weapons, the monkeys deployed themselves around Lanka, awaiting Kumbhakarna’s appearance. Rāma Himself stood with Lakṣman, both of Them holding Their bows and facing the city.
In Lanka, Kumbhakarna, who could change his form and size at will, had reached Rāvaṇa’s palace. He found his elder brother seated in the Pushpaka chariot appearing perturbed and anxious. Bowing low at his feet, Kumbhakarna inquired what service he could render.
Rāvaṇa was joyous upon seeing his brother and he directed him to sit down on a splendid heavenly seat. He then told him what had transpired. “O mighty one, just see how the woods and groves of Lanka have been converted into a sea of monkeys. Already they have slain many of the foremost fighters among the Rākṣasas. I have been unable to overcome them by any means. Therefore I have sought you as my only shelter. I can think of no other way to defeat this simian army. Beloved brother, you have routed the gods and Dānavas many times. Be my savior today and crush Rāma and His followers without delay.”
Kumbhakarna became angry. “Were you not warned?” he retorted. “You are now reaping the fruits of your rash and sinful act of stealing Sītā. Had you heeded the advice of your well-wishers and acted in accord with political wisdom, you would never have found yourself in such a mess.”
Hearing Rāvaṇa reprimanded by Kumbhakarna, the minister Mahodara came to his defense. “Rāvaṇa acted properly in stealing Sītā,” he argued. “The duty of all beings is to secure their happiness by any means. Even virtue is only a means to ensure one’s happiness. Therefore Rāvaṇa’s theft of Sītā, meant as it was for his pleasure, was rightly done.”
Rāvaṇa also did not like his brother’s speech and he answered angrily. “What use is this lecturing now? We face the greatest danger we have ever known. This is the time for action, not words. Whether I have acted wisely or not is of little consequence now. Let us do what must be done.”
Kumbhakarna smiled. “Be at ease, dear brother,” he said soothingly. “I spoke only out of my love for you. It is always the duty of a well-wisher to tender proper advice. I shall now fight. You should cast away your fears. Soon you will see the monkey army stretched out on the battlefield. Rāma’s head will be brought before you. Sugrīva and the other monkey chiefs will be thrown about like so many pieces of dust.”
Kumbhakarna vaunted his prowess at length, growing more and more enraged. He did not care if Brahmā, Indra and Yamarāja appeared on the battlefield. There would be no shelter for Rāma and His army.
Mahodara spoke again. “O Kumbhakarna, you are powerful and brave, but you should give up any thought of defeating Rāma. That human has already killed fourteen thousand powerful Rākṣasas single-handedly. He is now decimating our army. I do not think further battle with Him is at all wise.”
Mahodara was afraid. He suggested that Rāvaṇa use trickery to win over Sītā. The demon king should convince Her that Rāma was dead, and then She would submit to him. This would deprive Rāma of all energy.
Both Rāvaṇa and Kumbhakarna told Mahodara to be quiet. That plan had already failed. There was no avoiding the battle now, short of returning Sītā—and that was out of the question.
Kumbhakarna boomed, “I shall now march out to make good the disastrous policy you have initiated, O king. You are surrounded by useless ministers like Mahodara. They simply acquiesce out of fear and lead you into more and more danger, which they are then powerless to prevent. It is fortunate for you that I am here as your protector.”
Rāvaṇa laughed heartily to see his brother’s resolve. Surely he would now be saved. No one could face Kumbhakarna and live. This would be a glorious day for the Rākṣasas. Rāvaṇa sprang up and placed a beautiful gold necklace around his brother’s neck. He also adorned him with numerous other gem-studded ornaments and had many fragrant garlands put on him.
Kumbhakarna donned an impenetrable golden coat of mail and a huge dark blue girdle. As he marched out for battle, he shone like the western mountains receiving the setting sun. He went first to Rāvaṇa’s weapon room and took up a great pike, which was embellished with gold and which emitted flames even as it lay there. It shone like Indra’s thunderbolt and was no less powerful. The pike was wreathed with garlands of crimson flowers and smeared with the finest sandal-paste. Clutching his fierce weapon, the demon stormed toward the city gates.
Thousands of drums were beaten and conches blew. Kumbhakarna assumed a form six hundred bow-lengths high and more than a hundred in breadth. He strode toward the battlefield surrounded by gigantic Rākṣasas driving chariots and mounted upon elephants. Others followed him on camels, donkeys, lions, serpents, antelopes and birds. The Rākṣasas, who all had terrifying forms and faces, raised their maces, swords, lances, bludgeons and bows, sending up a terrific roar.
As the Rākṣasas moved off, there were many grim omens. Massive gray clouds full of thunder and lightning covered the sun. The earth shook. Birds wheeled from right to left and a large vulture perched on Kumbhakarna’s pike. The Rākṣasa’s left eye and arm throbbed. A flaming meteor fell from the sky and descended to the ground with a terrible crash. Jackals howled and a strong wind blew into their faces. Kumbhakarna paid no heed to the omens. He stepped over Lanka’s defensive wall and laughed out loud. The Rākṣasa gazed around at the army of monkeys, which appeared like a mass of clouds. Seeing the stupendous Rākṣasa’s sudden appearance, the monkeys dispersed in all directions, even as clouds are scattered by a gale. Kumbhakarna roared repeatedly, filling the four quarters with an unbearable thundering which agitated the ocean and made the mountains quake. Numerous monkeys fell unconscious simply from hearing the sound. Others fled screeching in terror.
As the monkeys stampeded, Aṅgada called out to them, “Have you forgotten your prowess, your valor and your lineage? Why are you fleeing like ordinary monkeys? This gigantic nightmare of a Rākṣasa will not be able to stand for long against us, protected as we are by Rāma and Lakṣman. Stand and fight, O Vanaras!”
The monkeys regained confidence upon hearing Aṅgada’s words. Turning back and taking hold of trees and rocks, they stood firm as Kumbhakarna rushed toward them. They smashed the Rākṣasa with mountain peaks and fully-grown trees, but these had no effect whatsoever, falling shattered to the ground. Kumbhakarna reached down and scooped up hundreds of monkeys. He dashed them furiously to the earth. The Rākṣasa began destroying the ranks of the Vanara troops like a fire consuming dry wood. Innumerable huge monkeys soon lay senseless on the ground, covered with blood.
The monkeys again hastily retreated. They bounded away without looking back or sideways. Some rushed back over the ocean bridge. Others were seen sailing through the air, having been struck or tossed by the Rākṣasa. With their faces turned pale, the monkeys scrambled up mountains or dived into the sea. Bears climbed trees and hid in caves. The whole army ran about in fear, not knowing which way to turn.
Aṅgada tried again and again to rally the monkeys. He called out to them, “Come back! Where will you hide from this monster? He must be faced. What will you say to your wives after you have fled in fear from the battlefield? Have you forgotten your boasting words, ‘We shall annihilate the Rākṣasas’? How have you become such cowards? No regions of bliss are ever attained by cowards. Indeed, they are always condemned by good men.”
Although Aṅgada tried in many ways to convince his troops to fight, they would not listen. They continued fleeing, some of them replying to the prince as they ran, “This Rākṣasa cannot be faced in battle. This is no time to exhibit bravery, for life is dear. We are going.”
Although their troops fled in all directions, Aṅgada and Sugrīva remained firm, along with Hanumān and some of the other powerful commanders of the monkey troops. The Vanara leaders then somehow managed to check the monkeys and reminded them of Rāma’s invincibility. With heartening arguments they convinced the monkeys to once more advance against Kumbhakarna. With Aṅgada at their head the Vanara forces turned again to face the mighty Rākṣasa.
Thousands of monkeys rushed in a body at Kumbhakarna, but he swept them aside with his pike. He ran about crushing and devouring the monkeys even as Garuḍa would devour serpents. With great difficulty the monkeys remained standing in the forefront of battle. Waves of other Rākṣasas rushed forward in support of Kumbhakarna, roaring in joy. The battle raged furiously with Kumbhakarna wreaking havoc among the monkey army.
The powerful Dwivida hurled an immense boulder at Kumbhakarna. The Rākṣasa evaded the rock and it fell among the other Rākṣasas, crushing chariots, horses and elephants, along with hundreds of demons. The Rākṣasa warriors fought back, severing the heads of the yelling monkeys with their deadly arrows.
Hanumān leapt into the air and rained down rocks and trees upon Kumbhakarna’s head. The Rākṣasa fended off the missiles with his pike. Hanumān, who had grown to huge proportions, came down on the ground and stood firmly in front of Kumbhakarna. He smashed him on the breast with a mountain peak and the Rākṣasa reeled back in pain. Quickly recovering, the Rākṣasa struck Hanumān a terrible blow with his pike. The monkey was rendered almost senseless and he fell back, vomiting blood.
Seeing Hanumān thrown down, the Rākṣasa forces cheered loudly and the monkeys fled in fear. Nīla quickly came forward and rallied the troops. He took up a great boulder and flung it violently at Kumbhakarna. The Rākṣasa saw it coming and smashed it to pieces with his fist, sending up a shower of flames and sparks.
Five huge monkey chiefs then attacked Kumbhakarna from all sides. They struck him with crags, trees, the palms of their hands and their feet. They climbed up his legs and tore at him with their nails and teeth. Then hundreds of other monkeys rushed at the Rākṣasa and leapt upon him. Kumbhakarna plucked the monkeys from his body and thrust them into his huge open mouth. Monkeys were seen to issue out of his nostrils and his ears as the demon repeatedly thrust them into his mouth.
Kumbhakarna looked like Death incarnate appearing for the destruction of all living beings. One by one the powerful monkey leaders assailed him and were repulsed. Sugrīva took up a great mountain-top and boldly challenged the Rākṣasa. “See now my prowess, O Rākṣasa. Leave aside the other monkeys and face me. With this mountain peak I shall dash you to the ground.”
The Rākṣasa laughed. “I know you, monkey. You are a grandson of Brahmā and the son of the mighty Riksaraja. Thus you stand there roaring. Show me then the limits of your strength.”
Sugrīva immediately hurled the vast crag upon the demon’s chest. It smashed to pieces and fell to the earth, but the Rākṣasa was hardly moved. In a rage he threw his flaming pike at Sugrīva but Hanumān intercepted it as it flew. The monkey placed the pike across his knees and broke it in two, making the Vanara troops roar with joy.
Kumbhakarna became maddened. He stormed across to the Malaya mountain and tore from it a massive peak. Spinning around, the Rākṣasa hurled it at Sugrīva. The monkey king was caught by the whirling crag and he fell unconscious. The Rākṣasas shouted in triumph, thinking Sugrīva to be slain. Kumbhakarna quickly ran over and took up the fallen monkey. Pressing him under his arm, the demon made his way back to the city. If Sugrīva were killed or captured, then the entire monkey army would be finished.
As the Rākṣasa stepped over the city wall, he was greeted by cheering citizens. They showered flowers and scented water on him. Sugrīva felt the cool water on his face and he regained consciousness. He saw himself being carried toward Rāvaṇa’s palace. Bending his body violently, Sugrīva spun round and ripped off the demon’s ear with his nails. He then bit off the end of his nose and clawed his side. Kumbhakarna roared in pain and threw the monkey down.
Sugrīva bounced up like a ball. He sprang onto a rooftop and quickly bounded over the city wall and back to the monkeys. Kumbhakarna stood with blood running down his face. He screamed in anger and turned back toward the battle holding a terrible-looking mace. Rushing into the monkey forces, he continued annihilating them by the thousands.
Lakṣman then appeared before the Rākṣasa. He immediately shot two dozen flaming arrows into Kumbhakarna’s arms. The prince continuously released arrows which covered Kumbhakarna on all sides like a golden cloud. Brushing aside the shafts the Rākṣasa laughed and spoke to Lakṣman. “You have shown me your prowess, O prince. I am impressed with Your valor. Even Indra or Yamarāja would not dare to face me in an encounter. But I wish to fight only with Rāma. Where is Your brother? By slaying Him I shall put an end to this conflict. My army will then finish the rest of the monkeys.”
Rāma heard the Rākṣasa’s haughty challenge. He called out, “Stand ready for battle!” and shot from a distance a number of arrows that pierced the huge demon all over. Kumbhakarna at once rushed toward Him, clutching his mighty mace. Rāma sent volleys of arrows, which shattered the Rākṣasa’s mace even as he raised it for Rāma’s destruction. Shafts bedecked with golden feathers thudded into the demon’s body by the thousands. Blood poured from his wounds like streams from a mountain.
Kumbhakarna ran about in fury, crushing monkeys and demons alike. He seized hold of a tremendous rock and flung it at Rāma. The prince released sharp-pointed arrows which smashed the crag as it flew toward Him. The pieces of the rock killed two hundred Rākṣasas as the shards fell to earth.
Thousands of monkeys rushed at Kumbhakarna and leapt upon him, trying to drag him down, but the Rākṣasa shook them off like so many insects. He dashed about intoxicated with battle and slaying both friend and foe. Rāma determined that the time to kill him had arrived. Firmly grasping His bow he called out, “Take heart and fight, O lord of the Rākṣasas. Know Me to be the destroyer of the Rākṣasa race. You will now be slain by Me.”
Kumbhakarna whirled around and faced Rāma, but suddenly Vibhishana came between them with mace in hand. Seeing him there, Kumbhakarna said, “Yes, my brother. Come forward and strike at once. Abandon all filial affection and remain devoted to the duty of a warrior. O Vibhishana, you alone are the redeemer of our race. Among the Rākṣasas you are the best knower of virtue. Indeed, I will not slay you today, for you deserve protection at my hands. Stand aside! I cannot check my nature and am given to wantonly killing all creatures.”
Vibhishana replied, “With the interests of my race in mind I always tendered advice to Rāvaṇa, but neglected by him I sought Rāma’s shelter. Hence I stand before you in battle today.”
Tears sprang to Vibhishana’s eyes as he spoke. Rāma consoled him and told him to stand aside; the time for Kumbhakarna’s destruction had come. Seeing Rāma standing firmly before him, Kumbhakarna laughed hideously and said, “I am neither Viradha nor Kabhandha. Nor am I Khara, Dushana, Vāli or Maricha. I am Kumbhakarna, arrived here as Your death. Do not hold me in contempt. Show me the full limit of Your power and I shall then devour You, O Rāma.”
Rāma at once released arrows which flew with the speed of lightning and struck the Rākṣasa’s body. Those arrows, which had formerly pierced seven sal trees and the very earth itself, did not even shake the demon. The Rākṣasa took up a massive club and whirled it about, knocking down Rāma’s arrows as they flew. Laughing again and again, Kumbhakarna stood with his great club uplifted.
Rāma released an arrow imbued with the force of Vāyu. It roared through the air and severed the Rākṣasa’s arm. That arm, still clutching the club, fell to earth and killed a thousand monkeys and Rākṣasas. Kumbhakarna shrieked with pain, making the sky vibrate and the mountains break open. He looked like a mountain whose summit had been cut off with a gigantic sword. With his remaining arm he tore up a large palmyra tree and rushed toward Rāma. With each step the earth vibrated and trees toppled over in distant forests.
Rāma released another mystic missile, which cut off the Rākṣasa’s other arm. It fell with an enormous crash, sending Rākṣasas and monkeys scattering in all directions. With blood spurting from the stumps of his arms the Rākṣasa continued to rush at Rāma. He bellowed furiously and the monkeys covered their ears, unable to tolerate the noise. Rāma shot a pair of crescent-headed arrows imbued with the force of Indra’s thunderbolt and they severed the Rākṣasa’s feet.
Not deterred, Kumbhakarna still somehow moved swiftly toward the prince. His mouth was wide open and he emitted savage, deafening cries which shook the earth. In an instant Rāma filled his mouth with arrows and the demon was silenced. Rāma then took up an arrow which was encrusted with gems and which shone brilliantly. Empowering it with the force of the brahmāstra, He released it for Kumbhakarna’s destruction.
As it flew with terrible speed, the arrow illuminated all directions like a blazing comet descending to earth. It tore off the Rākṣasa’s head, which looked like a peak of the Himalaya mountains. Adorned with a pair of blazing gold earrings, his head shone as it was carried through the air by the force of Brahmā’s weapon. It seemed like the rising moon moving through the heavens. It fell upon the defensive wall of Lanka and demolished the great northern gate. The head then rolled along the royal highway. By the power of Brahmā’s mystic missile the Rākṣasa’s body was lifted and thrown into the ocean, creating a tidal wave which swept the coast of Lanka.
Hosts of gods and ṛṣis assembled in the sky and joyously praised Rāma. The monkeys surrounded Him roaring in exultation. All the remaining Rākṣasas fled, astonished and dismayed. Rāma felt elated and shone brightly amid the monkeys, even as the sun shines after an eclipse.
3.9: Carnage Among the Rākṣasas
The Rākṣasas ran quickly to Rāvaṇa and told him the news. “After wreaking havoc among the monkeys for some time, your glorious brother has been slain by Rāma. His limbless and headless trunk lies half-submerged in the sea, and his head now blocks the city’s main gate.”
Rāvaṇa was shocked and seized by grief. He fainted. All around him his sons and other relatives sent up a wail of sorrow. They could not believe their ears. How could the invincible Kumbhakarna be killed by a mere human?
Gradually Rāvaṇa came around and began to lament. “Alas, my brother, where have you gone? Without removing the thorn from my side how have you left me alone? What use now is my kingdom, or Sītā, or even life itself? I am deprived of my right arm, depending on which I had no fear from the assembled gods headed by Indra. Now those gods stand in the sky raising shouts of joy. I cannot brook this turn of events. I shall follow the path trodden by my brother. Either I shall slay Rāma or Death may claim me too.”
Rāvaṇa wept and tossed about in agony. He remembered Vibhishana’s advice. His virtuous brother had spoken wisely. He had been wrongly expelled from Lanka. Now Rāvaṇa was tasting the bitter fruit of that action. One who ignores the good advice of wise well-wishers always comes to grief.
The Rākṣasa king sank down in distress. Seeing him fallen into abject sorrow, his son Devantaka, who was not very thoughtful, said, “Why are you lamenting in this way, O king? Those endowed with power and valor do not give way to grief. The time has come for firm action, not lamentation. Only command me and I shall go out and exterminate your enemies.”
Rāvaṇa’s other sons were heartened by Devantaka’s words. They also began boasting of their power. All of them clamored for the order to fight. They were all mighty in battle and had never experienced defeat. All of them knew the mystic missiles and all had received various boons from their practices of asceticism. Bragging loudly, they declared that they would all go out together and finish Rāma and the monkeys in no time.
Rāvaṇa was encouraged. Driven by his destiny, the demon stood up and embraced his sons, ordering them to march out for battle. Four of the Rākṣasa’s sons, Trishira, Devantaka, Narantaka and Atikaya, along with two of his half-brothers, Mahaparshwa and Mahodara, were dispatched for the fight. Those gigantic warriors anointed themselves with medicinal herbs capable of warding off injuries, as well as with perfumes and sandalwood paste. They put on golden armor and took up their fierce weapons.
Mahodara mounted an elephant that resembled a dark cloud. Trishira mounted a fine chariot drawn by the best of horses and equipped with thousands of weapons. Atikaya, who stood with a flaming crown on his head, mounted another superb chariot. On either side of him stood Devantaka and Narantaka, clutching frightful maces, both of them appearing like Viṣṇu holding the Mandara mountain. Mahaparshwa came behind them, mounted upon another elephant which resembled Airāvata, the carrier of Indra.
They came out of the western gate of Lanka, like six brilliant planets suddenly appearing in the heavens. Followed by the massed ranks of Rākṣasa warriors, they raised their weapons and rushed joyfully toward the monkey army.
The monkeys saw them advancing like a row of dark clouds. The earth shook and the sky resounded with their roars. Drums crashed and conches blew, filling the four quarters with a deafening clamor.
The Vanara army thundered in response and took up crags and tree trunks. The two armies met with a clash and a terrible, confused fight ensued. Demons and monkeys gave out leonine roars as they assailed one another with fury. The monkeys sprang high, dragging down the airborne Rākṣasas and dashing them to the earth. They smashed the demons with rocks and pounded them with their fists and feet.
The Rākṣasas sent volley after volley of arrows at the monkeys. They whirled their spiked maces and swords, viciously hacking down the enemy troops. The monkeys picked up one Rākṣasa to strike another, and the Rākṣasas did the same with the monkeys. Arrows with crescent or horseshoe heads sped through the air and lopped off arms, legs and heads.
Narantaka sent up a tremendous roar and began carving a path deep into the monkey army. He left a trail of flesh and blood strewn with mountain-like monkeys lying stretched on the ground. The demon sundered the ranks of his enemy, piercing them with his spear and killing dozens at a time. The monkeys howled in fear as Narantaka fought with a maniacal fury. None could face him.
Seeing the awful destruction being wrought by Narantaka, Aṅgada came forward. He shouted to the demon. “Wait! Why are you showing your strength against ordinary monkeys? Throw your spear, which strikes like lightning, at my breast.”
Narantaka spun round and glared at Aṅgada. He hurled his great flaming spear at the monkey who stood firmly before him. The spear broke against Aṅgada’s chest and fell to the ground. Aṅgada leapt forward and dealt a blow to the head of the Rākṣasa’s horse. The horse’s feet sank deeply into the ground and its eyes popped out. Narantaka jumped off the back of his slain horse and roared in anger. He struck Aṅgada a terrible blow on the side of his head. The monkey vomited hot blood and fell back dazed.
Crouching down and regaining his senses, Aṅgada, who was thinking only of Rāma, suddenly sprang forward. He swung his fist with all his might and hit the Rākṣasa on the chest. Narantaka’s breast was split asunder by that blow. He sank to the ground with his limbs soaked in blood and gave up his life.
The monkeys sent up a cry of joy and the gods beat their heavenly drums. Observing Aṅgada’s incredible feat, even Rāma was struck with wonder. Aṅgada stood infused with vigor ready to continue the battle.
Seeing his brother killed, Devantaka cried loudly with grief and fury. He gazed with bloodshot eyes at Aṅgada. Followed by Trishira and Mahodara, he rushed toward the son of Vāli, releasing thousands of arrows. Aṅgada immediately seized a huge tree and swept aside all the arrows. He then hurled the tree at Devantaka, but it was torn to pieces by the arrows of Trishira standing close behind him. Aṅgada threw trees and rocks one after another. Mahodara whirled his club and shattered them as they flew toward him. Suddenly the three powerful Rākṣasas rushed simultaneously at Aṅgada. Each of them struck him furiously with their clubs. Aṅgada stood his ground tolerating the blows. He leapt toward Mahodara and struck the Rākṣasa’s elephant with his palm. The elephant fell to its knees and toppled over. Aṅgada then tore out a tusk from the dead elephant and struck Devantaka a terrific blow on the head. The demon reeled about, vomiting blood.
Hanumān saw Aṅgada engaged with the three towering Rākṣasas and he ran over to assist the prince. Nīla also rushed to Aṅgada’s aid, hurling a mountain peak at Trishira, but the Rākṣasa smashed the massive crag with his arrows. Devantaka swung his club in a full circle and caught the running Hanumān on his breast. Not minding that blow, although it was forceful enough to have rent the earth, Hanumān swung his fist at the Rākṣasa. He caught him on his head with a crack resembling a peal of thunder. The demon’s teeth and eyes were forced out and his skull was shattered. He fell like a tree cut at its root.
Hanumān roared loudly and sprang at Trishira. He clawed at the Rākṣasa’s massive steed even as a lion would claw an elephant. Trishira took up a terrible javelin and hurled it straight at Hanumān. The monkey immediately caught it and snapped it in two. Trishira lifted his sword and thrust it at Hanumān, piercing him in the breast. Not shaken by the wound, Hanumān struck the Rākṣasa a blow on the breast with his palm. Trishira fell unconscious and his sword slipped from his grasp. Hanumān snatched the sword and roared. The demon regained consciousness, awakened by Hanumān’s roar. He could not tolerate the sound and leapt up furiously, striking the monkey with his fist. Hanumān seized the Rākṣasa by his hair, which was covered by a diadem. Pulling the demon’s head toward him, Hanumān severed it with the demon’s own sword.
Even as Hanumān was slaying Trishira, Nīla killed Mahodara with a tremendous blow from a fully grown sal tree. The mountain-like monkey Rishabha then engaged in a fierce fight with Mahaparshwa. The two combatants rendered each other unconscious again and again. Finally Rishabha pounded the Rākṣasa to death with the demon’s own mace.
Seeing five of their heroes killed in duels with the monkeys, the Rākṣasas fled in all directions, resembling an ocean that has burst its shores. The demon Atikaya then came to the forefront of the battle and rallied the terrified Rākṣasas. As the huge-bodied demon advanced the monkeys ran away howling. They thought that Kumbhakarna had somehow returned to life. Surrounding Rāma, they cried for protection.
Rāma saw in the distance Atikaya, who resembled a great mountain. Amazed at this sight, Rāma turned to Vibhishana and asked, “Who is that monstrous Rākṣasa seated in a chariot drawn by a thousand horses? Surrounded by flaming pikes, he seems like a dark cloud encircled by lightning flashes. Indeed, with his golden bows on all sides of the shining chariot, he is illuminating the battlefield like the newly-risen sun. His blazing arrows going in all directions are like so many sunbeams. Tell me the name of this lion-like warrior.”
Vibhishana replied that this was Rāvaṇa’s son, a powerful fighter who had performed much asceticism and had thus acquired from Brahmā different boons. The creator of the universe had made him invincible to gods and demons and had bestowed upon him many mystical weapons as well as the wonderful chariot he was now driving. With his arrows, the demon had even checked Indra’s thunderbolt and cut down Varuṇa’s noose. Vibhishana advised Rāma to tackle him at once before he annihilated the entire army of monkeys.
Rāma watched as Atikaya penetrated into the monkey ranks. At once he was surrounded by Nīla, Dwivida, Mainda, Kumuda and Sarabha, five great heroes among the monkeys. They assailed the Rākṣasa from all sides, hurling huge rocks and trees at him. The demon easily repulsed all of their missiles with his arrows, which were bedecked with bright red jewels. He pierced all five of the monkeys and sent them running. The demon struck fear into the monkey army as a furious lion would terrify a flock of deer. He looked around and saw Rāma. Leaving aside the monkeys, the Rākṣasa drove across to Rāma and issued a proud challenge. “I do not care to fight with common warriors. If You have the courage and the strength, then stand against me today. I shall soon end Your power and Your fame.”
Hearing this, Lakṣman was infuriated. He seized His bow and twanged the string making a sound which reverberated all around the battlefield. Lakṣman gazed at Atikaya with bloodshot eyes, placing a long shaft on His bow.
The demon laughed derisively. “How do You dare to challenge me, O son of Sumitra? You are only a boy, unskilled in warfare. I cannot be faced by the Himalaya mountain nor even the earth itself. You seek to rouse the fire of universal destruction as it slumbers peacefully. Do not lose Your life in this way. Depart swiftly! Or if You choose to stand here, then be prepared for my arrows, which will quaff Your lifeblood, even as a lion would quaff the blood of a deer.”
Lakṣman could not tolerate Atikaya’s arrogant words. He thundered back at the Rākṣasa, “Mere speech does not prove your prowess, O demon. Give up this empty boasting and demonstrate your strength at once. After you send at Me the best of your arrows and missiles, I will strike your head off even as the wind blows a ripe fruit from a tree. Whether I am old or young is of no matter; you should know Me as your death arrived here today. The three worlds were taken by Viṣṇu even while He was yet a child.”
Atikaya flared up in anger. He instantly fired an arrow which flew with the speed of the wind, resembling a meteor and shooting tongues of fire. Lakṣman loosed His own arrow, which intercepted Atikaya’s in mid-flight and split it in two. Atikaya grew even more enraged and fitted five more arrows to his bow, sending them at Lakṣman in a moment. Again Lakṣman cut down his shafts as they sped toward Him.
Lakṣman seized a sharpened arrow which shone with splendor. Pulling His bow into a full circle He released the shaft and it pierced the demon in the brow. Atikaya shook like a mountain in an earthquake. Profuse blood ran down his head like oxides exuding from a mountain. The Rākṣasa praised Lakṣman’s feat. He quickly sent two dozen arrows at the prince which seemed to light up the sky, but Lakṣman struck all of them down.
Seizing his opportunity as Lakṣman parried the arrows, Atikaya sent another fierce shaft which struck the prince on His breast. Lakṣman bled profusely but pulled out the arrow and tossed it aside. He then charged an arrow with the force of the Āgneyastra, the powerful fire weapon. Seeing the arrow loosed for his destruction and blazing in the sky, Atikaya responded with an arrow imbued with the power of the sun-god. The two mystic missiles met in space like two blazing planets colliding in the heavens. Reduced to ashes, they both fell to earth.
Atikaya fired at Lakṣman a weapon presided over by Yamarāja, but the prince countered it with a missile empowered with the force of the wind-god. Lakṣman quickly responded by covering the son of Rāvaṇa with countless arrows, so that neither the demon nor his chariot were visible. Sweeping away those arrows with a sword, the demon did not feel at all harassed. He shot a deadly arrow at Lakṣman, which hit Him in the chest and caused the prince to faint for some moments. Regaining consciousness, He shot razor-headed arrows which cut down the demon’s standard. He killed the charioteer and several rows of the Rākṣasa’s horses. But although He struck the demon’s body with innumerable arrows, He could not hurt him in the least.
As Lakṣman stood confounded, the wind-god Vāyu approached Him and said, “This demon is clad in an impenetrable armor bestowed upon him by Brahmā himself. Indeed, the Rākṣasa cannot be slain except with Brahmā’s weapon.”
Hearing the celestial voice, Lakṣman took out a large golden arrow and fitted it to His bow. He recited the incantations to invoke Brahmā’s missile. As He chanted the mantras, the sky seemed to shake and the earth groaned. With that arrow on His fully stretched bow, Lakṣman appeared like Death incarnate. He released the arrow and it sped with a terrible cracking sound toward the demon.
Atikaya saw the diamond-bedecked arrow approach him blazing like the midday sun. The demon was struck with fear. Moving with blinding speed he hurled javelins, spears, pikes, maces and axes at the arrow. He also struck it with numerous arrows of his own. But the shaft could not be checked. It baffled the demon’s weapons and continued to course swiftly through the air. The blazing arrow caught Atikaya in the neck, severing his head and throwing it some distance onto the battlefield.
When Rāvaṇa’s son was slain, the remaining Rākṣasas sent up a wail. Crying in discordant, tones they ran about in fear, unable to find a protector. They turned their faces toward the city and hastily retreated. The monkeys surrounded Lakṣman and praised Him, shouting with joy. The prince smiled and returned to Rāma’s side. Rāma embraced His brother and glorified His wondrous feat. Flowers fell from the sky and heavenly drums sounded.
3.10: Rāma and Lakṣman Laid Low
Rāvaṇa was becoming increasingly anxious. His fear overpowered the grief of losing his sons and brothers. He sat lost in thought on his golden throne. One after another his most powerful fighters were being slain. Even when the two human princes had been overcome and thrown down by Indrajit’s irresistible weapons, still they somehow recovered. When Rāma had killed even the formidable Kumbhakarna, who was there left who could face the prince and live? Surely He was Viṣṇu Himself, the Rākṣasas’ supreme enemy.
Rāvaṇa’s eyes narrowed. He now faced a great peril. He ordered his ministers to check every defensive post around the city. Extra guards should be posted. Day and night there should be extreme vigilance. Anyone found neglectful of his duty would be immediately executed.
The demon hissed with anger. The thought of surrender did not cross his mind for a moment. Victory or death were the only choices. Brooding on Atikaya’s fall, he went into his chambers and sat disconsolately on a golden couch.
Indrajit then approached him and said, “O lord of the Rākṣasas, why are you held in the grip of sorrow? Do you not see me by your side? How will those two humans survive when I go out again for battle? They were lucky to escape last time, but their luck has now run out. Behold them today lying prostrate on the ground, torn to pieces by my weapons.”
Indrajit consoled his father by vowing that he would kill Rāma and Lakṣman. Rāvaṇa felt heartened. He gave his assent to his son and without delay Indrajit prepared for battle.
The prince donned his impenetrable armor and mounted his great chariot drawn by tigers. Blowing his massive conch he proceeded along Lanka’s main highway. At once many other fierce Rākṣasas began to follow. Some rode horses, some boars and some giant donkeys. Others mounted lions, jackals and even huge scorpions. Other Rākṣasas, who had hideous, twisted faces, mounted crows, vultures and peacocks. Soon an enormous number of Rākṣasas were assembled for battle, headed by Indrajit.
Those demon warriors, equipped with every kind of weapon, marched to the sound of kettledrums and conches, making the earth vibrate. Indrajit sat aboard his chariot, which was covered over with a white parasol. He was being fanned by beautiful golden-handled whisks and worshipped by Yatudhanas chanting sacred hymns. As he proceeded for battle he shone like Indra amid the gods.
Rāvaṇa stood upon a high rampart watching his son. He felt confident. No one in all the worlds could stand against Indrajit, be they gods, Dānavas or Daityas. What then of humans and monkeys? After all, Indrajit had already overpowered the two humans. Surely this time there would be no lucky escapes.
Rāvaṇa shouted a blessing to Indrajit as he reached the northern gate. The demon prince turned to his father with palms joined, then raised his hand, and the army rushed out with a mighty roar.
As the Rākṣasas reached the battlefield, Indrajit halted them and had them surround him. He dismounted from his chariot and lit a fire. While reciting Vedic mantras the demon worshipped the sacred fire. He poured oblations of ghee into the fire and made offerings of lances, spears and swords in place of the traditional reeds and grasses. Clasping the neck of a dark-hued goat, the demon slit its throat and placed it on the fire.
As the fire burst into flames, the fire-god appeared in person. Shining like refined gold he personally accepted the offerings. Indrajit then climbed back aboard his chariot. He sat in meditation and invoked the brahmāstra. While the Rākṣasa was charging all his weapons and his chariot with the force of that celestial missile, the heavens seemed to quake in fear.
Having finished his incantations Indrajit blazed like a smokeless fire. By his own mystic power he became invisible, along with his weapons, chariot and all. He gave the order to charge and the army of Rākṣasas went forward roaring in various dissonant tones. They struck the monkeys from a distance with their ornamented arrows and lances thrown with tremendous velocity. The Rākṣasas then fell upon the monkeys in a fury.
Remaining invisible, Indrajit assailed the monkey army with razor-headed arrows, lances and maces. The monkeys realized the demon was fighting invisibly and surrounded the place from where his weapons flew. They hurled numerous trees and boulders at him, but the demon cut them to pieces. He tore apart the bodies of the monkeys with his irresistible arrows. With a single arrow the Rākṣasa pierced as many as five, seven, or even a dozen monkeys.
Even though they were being exterminated by Indrajit, the monkeys, who had dedicated their lives to Rāma’s cause, stood their ground. They repeatedly surrounded the deadly demon, sending an endless shower of rocks and trees in his direction.
Indrajit moved off invisibly and searched for the chief monkey warriors. One after another he pierced Nīla, Jambavan, Sugrīva, Aṅgada, Rishabha, Dwivida and many other monkey heroes. He rendered all of them virtually unconscious with his terrible shafts. With great joy the Rākṣasa beheld the Vanara army being overwhelmed on all sides by his cruel weapons. He rose into the sky above the monkeys and continued to rain down countless arrows, like a dark cloud in the monsoon season.
With their bodies ripped apart, the monkeys fell shrieking like mountains thrown down by Indra’s thunderbolt. They could not see the demon or his chariot, but saw only an endless stream of sharp-pointed shafts falling from the heavens. Indrajit sent forth a shower of violent weapons which gave off sparks and incandescent flames. He covered the monkeys with axes, swords, lances and pikes, all of those weapons charged with mystic power.
Indrajit then sought out Rāma and Lakṣman, covering Them with torrents of arrows. Not minding the arrows any more than a mountain would mind a shower of rain, Rāma said to His brother, “This demon Indrajit has engaged the invincible weapon of Brahmā. Behold, our entire army has been virtually overpowered. We too will have to succumb to Brahmā’s weapon, I fear.”
Rāma knew that no being in the universe could resist the brahmāstra, except by invoking the same weapon to counter it. But the meeting of two brahmāstras was highly dangerous. It could bring about the destruction of the whole cosmos and would likely cause the death of millions of innocent creatures. Rāma did not want that to happen. He and Lakṣman sent hundreds and thousands of powerful shafts toward the Rākṣasa, but Indrajit shrugged off Their arrows and continued aiming his weapons at the two brothers.
The demon again and again recited the incantations sacred to Brahmā and sent fierce arrows at Rāma and Lakṣman. The princes were completely covered by Indrajit’s arrows. They bled all over and appeared like a couple of kinshuka trees covered in red blossoms. Grievously wounded by Indrajit’s assault, They both fell to the ground and dropped Their bows.
Indrajit sent up a cry of victory. He considered Rāma and Lakṣman dead. The demon looked around the battlefield and saw that only a few thousand monkeys remained standing. The battle was surely won. Seeing the sun approaching the western horizon, Indrajit decided to return to Lanka and tell his father the good news. If any of the monkey army remained on the battlefield, he could finish them tomorrow. Appearing in the sky like a blazing planet, Indrajit commanded the Rākṣasa troops to withdraw and they quickly entered Lanka, roaring in joy.
On the battlefield Hanumān still remained standing. He looked around at the scene of devastation wrought by Indrajit. Even Rāma and Lakṣman, along with Sugrīva, Aṅgada, Nīla and all the other powerful Vanara commanders, lay prostrate. The monkey ran up to the two princes and knelt by Their side. He was joined by Vibhishana who had also survived Indrajit’s attack. Tears fell from Hanumān’s eyes as he gazed at the unconscious brothers. They appeared to be severely wounded. Placing his hand on Hanumān’s shoulder, Vibhishana reassured him gently.
“Do not give way to despondency, my valiant friend. These two brothers are not killed. Surely They have allowed Themselves to be brought under the power of Brahmā’s weapon in honor of the self-born creator of the universe. Rāma and Lakṣman are always protected by virtue. Indeed, They are virtue personified. We will yet see Them rise to defeat Rāvaṇa and his evil forces.”
Hanumān embraced the Rākṣasa and thanked him for his kind words. But what could he do now? How could the battle continue with only a handful of monkeys and bears still standing? Even Rāma and Lakṣman seemed in no condition to fight.
As Hanumān and Vibhishana looked around they saw Jambavan lying nearby. The wise old leader of the bears was covered with arrows but his head was moving slightly. Vibhishana ran over to him and knelt down calling his name. Jambavan opened his eyes and looked at the Rākṣasa. He spoke barely in a whisper.
“O Vibhishana, I can hardly see you, wounded as I am by Indrajit’s arrows. Our army is now in grave danger, but if Hanumān still survives then there is hope. Tell me, does the son of the wind-god live?”
Vibhishana was surprised that Jambavan had first inquired after Hanumān rather than Rāma or Lakṣman. He called Hanumān over and the monkey came quickly and knelt before Jambavan. Mustering his strength, the old bear began to speak. “My dear Hanumān, it is you alone who can save this army. Only you possess the power to fly from here to the Himālayas. You must go there at once to fetch the celestial healing herbs.”
Jambavan explained that there was a mountain standing near Mount Kailāsa on which grew four precious herbs, placed there by the gods themselves. Jambavan described the four plants. “First there is sanjivakarani, capable of bringing a dead person back to life. Then you must find vishalyakarani, which can completely heal all weapon wounds. The other two herbs are sandhani and suvarnakarani, which together can restore a broken body back to its pristine state. They all grow together atop this mountain. O Hanumān, leave at once and bring them here.”
Hanumān immediately stood up. He bounded across to the Trikuta mountain and quickly climbed to its summit. From there he leapt over to the Malaya mountain on Lanka’s coast. Standing there the monkey expanded his body till he appeared like a second mountain on top of the Malaya. He thought of Rāma and Lakṣman, and of Sugrīva and all the other monkeys and bears lying mortally wounded. There was no time to lose. He crouched down and with a great shout of “Victory to Rāma!” leapt toward the north.
As he jumped he pushed down the mountain and made the whole island of Lanka shake. The city seemed to be dancing at night as its lights shook with the force of Hanumān’s leap. The Rākṣasas were seized with fear, thinking that Lanka was about to be consumed by an earthquake.
Hanumān soared through the heavens. Being followed by the wind, he felt no resistance and sped faster and faster toward the Himālayas. In a short time he saw the great range appearing ahead of him. From a distance the mountains appeared like masses of white clouds. As Hanumān came closer he saw the golden Rishabha mountain with the gods’ numerous residences atop it. Passing beyond Rishabha he saw Mount Kailāsa in the distance.
Between Rishabha and Kailāsa, Hanumān saw the mountain where the celestial herbs grew. It shone brightly and the herbs growing upon its sides appeared like flashing lights. Hanumān came down upon the mountain and began to search for the four herbs Jambavan had described. As he moved among the lush foliage, however, the herbs, perceiving that someone had come to take them, hid themselves from view. Only the gods were able to use those divine medicines; no one else could find them.
Hanumān ran about looking for the herbs. Where were they? What if he could not find them? What would happen to Rāma and Lakṣman? Could it be possible that the two brothers would die? No. He could not let that happen. He had to fetch the herbs even if it meant bringing the entire mountain.
The monkey realized that the herbs had concealed themselves from his view. He became furious and roared loudly, thundering at the mountain, “O lord of mountains, as you have not shown any compassion even to Rāma and Lakṣman, you shall pay the price today. Watch now as I tear away your shining peak. I shall not return without the herbs.”
Hanumān plunged his hands into the side of the mountain and broke off the entire section containing all the herbs. Lifting the huge mountain summit above his head, the monkey sprang into the air. Hanumān soared high into the sky, bearing aloft the mountain with its trees, elephants, tigers, deer and herbs. He blazed with his own splendor and, with the effulgent mountain held in his hands, he looked like the sun coursing through the sky.
Once again, his father Vāyu raced behind him and he soon arrived near Lanka. Having accomplished such an inconceivable feat in Rāma’s service, Hanumān descended near the Trikuta and set down the celestial hill of herbs. Vibhishana rushed over and embraced the monkey. The Rākṣasa then set about finding the medicinal herbs, perceiving them by virtue of his occult vision.
Taking a handful of the herbs from Vibhishana, Hanumān went quickly to Rāma and Lakṣman. Both he and Vibhishana looked anxiously at the two princes, who appeared like the sun and the moon fallen to earth. They were hardly breathing. Hanumān dropped to his knees by their side. Was he in time to save them? Would the herbs work? His hand shook as he placed a bunch of herbs under Rāma’s nostrils.
For some time Rāma showed no signs of movement. Hanumān was beside himself with anxiety. Then slowly, the prince began to stir. He breathed deeply, inhaling the celestial fragrance. Gradually His eyes opened. He looked up at Hanumān and smiled. The monkey breathed a deep sigh of relief. Quickly he began administering the herbs to Lakṣman. Slowly, He too returned to consciousness.
Sugrīva then had Sushena, a monkey expert in healing, come and tend to the princes. Using the other herbs brought by Hanumān, Sushena healed Their arrow wounds. In a short time the arrows fell from Their bodies and Their wounds closed up and healed. Both brothers sprang to Their feet, Their bodies renewed and invigorated. With tears in His eyes, Rāma embraced Hanumān and thanked him for his service.
The surviving monkeys moved swiftly among the wounded troops, administering the herbs to them. They crushed the herbs and allowed the wind to carry the pungent fragrance. No demons lay on the battlefield, as Rāvaṇa had ordered that they be tossed into the sea when they were slain. The demon did not want the monkeys to gain strength from seeing how many Rākṣasas were killed.
By the potency of the healing herbs hundreds of thousands of the Vanara warriors were restored to consciousness and they jumped up shouting with joy. Even some monkeys who had been killed, but whose bodies were not destroyed, were brought back to life by the herbs’ potency. They felt as if they had awakened from a restful night of sleep. Soon the monkey army stood again in their millions, ready and eager for the fight.
The night was drawing to a close and Sugrīva, after consulting with Rāma and Lakṣman, decided to attack Lanka before the Rākṣasas were aware of the situation. The monkeys took up flaming torches and moved like a surging ocean toward the city walls. Shocked and amazed to find so many monkeys clambering over the ramparts, the Rākṣasa guards fled in fear. The monkeys set fire to the gates, houses and mansions in Lanka. Rāma and Lakṣman sent innumerable flaming arrows into the city and a great fire raged.
Panic-stricken demons ran in all directions with their clothes and hair ablaze. Great mansions and palaces were completely consumed by flames. Golden archways and walls melted and crumbled to the ground. In less than an hour the city gave the appearance of the earth being consumed by the dread fire of annihilation. Searing red flames rose up to the sky and were reflected upon the ocean, making it appear like a charming sea of red waters. As the monkeys ran about setting fire to anything and everything, the Rākṣasas’ screams were heard everywhere. They dashed out of their houses and were immediately assailed by the monkeys.
Rāvaṇa was aroused from his intoxicated slumber by the clamor. He sat up in shock. What was happening? Surely this could not be the monkeys. There were only a few of them left. How could they attack Lanka while their leaders were both prostrate on the battlefield?
Pulling his silk garment around his waist, the demon ran out of his chamber and called for his ministers. Seized with fear they ran to Rāvaṇa and told him that Rāma and Lakṣman had somehow risen up and attacked the city. The demon king was amazed. He immediately issued orders for the Rākṣasa chiefs to march out. Tens of thousands of demons clad in golden armor came onto the city streets. They were led by Kumbha and Nikumbha, Kumbhakarna’s two powerful sons. The Rākṣasas rushed roaring toward the monkeys, attacking them with swords, pikes, maces, javelins and countless arrows that screamed through the air.
Numerous garlands, broken wine casks and burning incenses made the city fragrant as the bellicose opponents tore at each other in a frenzy. Monkeys picked up Rākṣasas and whirled them about, striking down other Rākṣasas, while the Rākṣasas lanced five or seven monkeys at once with their terrible spears. Infuriated monkeys bit off the ears and crushed the skulls of the demons, pummeling them to a pulp with their fists and feet. Powerful Rākṣasas tore off the heads of the Vanaras and lopped off their limbs with great scimitars. Everywhere there were shouts of “Stay!” “Give battle!” and “You are killed!”
Gradually the battle spilled out of the city. Great duels were fought between the principal fighters on both sides. The Rākṣasa Kampana challenged Aṅgada and was slain by him with a blow from a mountain peak. Along with the two powerful Vanaras, Mainda and Dwivida, Aṅgada also made short work of Sonitaksha, Yupaksha and Prajangha, three of the mightiest Rākṣasas.
Seeing his comrades killed, Kumbha roared with fury. Kumbhakarna’s son appeared awful and unassailable. He took up his tremendous bow, in no way inferior to Indra’s, and loosed venomous shafts by the thousand. Monkeys fell on all sides, screaming in pain. Mainda and Dwivida rushed toward the Rākṣasa and challenged him to fight. Those monkey brothers looked like a couple of moving mountains approaching a third.
As they neared Kumbha, the demon fitted a fierce arrow onto his bow and shot it at Dwivida’s chest. Hit by the arrow, Dwivida fell to the ground and lay there wriggling and gasping for breath. Mainda at once took up an enormous crag and hurled it with force at the Rākṣasa. Kumbha shot five arrows that shattered the rock and it fell in pieces at his feet. Taking another long shaft, he struck Mainda on the breast and the monkey fell unconscious.
Aṅgada saw his two uncles laid low by Kumbha and he dashed across to challenge the Rākṣasa. Kumbha laughed, making an ass-like sound which reverberated all over the battlefield. His eyes blazed like two red fires and he stood in his chariot looking like Death personified. As Aṅgada ran toward him, Kumbha shot dozens of deadly arrows which penetrated the monkey’s body. Not shaken, Aṅgada sent a shower of rocks and trees at the demon. Kumbha easily smashed the missiles with his arrows, laughing all the while.
Kumbha then fired arrows, which hit Aṅgada on the forehead and made a stream of blood flow down the monkey’s face. Pressing his wounds with one hand, Aṅgada seized hold of a massive tree with the other. He whirled around and tossed that tree at the Rākṣasa. It flew with the speed of the wind. Kumbha dropped to one knee and instantly shot seven steel arrows which sliced the flying tree to pieces. Without pausing for a moment Kumbha released seven more shafts, which struck Aṅgada on the chest and sent him reeling.
Rāma saw that Aṅgada was sinking to the ground under the force of Kumbha’s arrows. He immediately ordered Jambavan and a number of powerful monkeys to go to Aṅgada’s assistance. They bounded toward Kumbha, throwing trees and boulders at the bellowing demon. Kumbha spun round and shot his fierce arrows, hitting all of the monkey warriors as they approached him. No one could get near the Rākṣasa as he stood with his uplifted bow, any more than one could approach the orb of the sun.
Sugrīva then came forward to challenge the Rākṣasa. He hurled huge rocks one after another at the demon’s chariot, advancing continually toward him. Kumbha smashed all the rocks thrown at him with arrows shot in a solid line. He moved with astonishing speed, striking down the rocks and simultaneously sending arrows at Sugrīva. The monkey king was pierced all over, but he did not flinch. He suddenly sprang onto Kumbha’s chariot and snatched his bow, even as the Rākṣasa fired arrows at him. Sugrīva broke the bow in two and hurled it away. The monkey then leapt to the ground and addressed the Rākṣasa.
“O Kumbha, you are the equal of Indra, Kuvera and even the mighty Bali. Indeed, you are no less powerful than your uncle Rāvaṇa or your cousin Indrajit. You have struck down many powerful monkeys today, O demon, and this is most wonderful. But now your exploits will end. Fight with me, if you dare. I shall make short work of you.”
Kumbha was flattered by Sugrīva, and his martial enthusiasm increased like a fire fed with oil. Without a word, he leapt down from his chariot and rushed toward the monkey, who stood with his arms outstretched. The two heroes clasped each other and grappled together. The earth shook with their heavy steps. Sugrīva leaned backwards and lifted the demon above his head. Spinning around, he tossed Kumbha into the sea. The Rākṣasa sank down to the seabed, but soon swam upwards again.
Suddenly emerging from the ocean, the demon flew up and struck Sugrīva on the chest with his fist, with a blow that sounded like a peal of thunder and which emitted a brilliant flash. Sugrīva did not budge and at once clenched his own fist, which was as hard as adamant. He swung around and brought his fist down upon Kumbha’s breast like one planet striking another. The demon’s heart was split by the blow, and he fell dead to the ground as Mars would drop from the heavens.
Nikumbha saw his brother slain and his anger flared. He took up his terrific mace and gazed at Sugrīva as if about to consume him with his wrath. His club was fitted with iron plates and steel spikes, inlaid with gold and bedecked with diamonds and other gems. The demon wore black iron armor studded with jewels, as well as brilliant golden armlets and earrings. With a garland of celestial flowers on his breast, he looked like a cloud flashing with numerous lightning bolts. He brandished his weapon, whirling it around above his head. His mace shot forth tongues of fire and it seemed to cause the very atmosphere to spin around. The monkey warriors fell back in terror, unable to even look at Nikumbha.
Hanumān came forward and stood directly before the Rākṣasa. He pulled back his arms and bared his massive chest. “Strike me at once, O demon,” he challenged.
With all his strength Nikumbha brought down the mace upon Hanumān’s chest. The club splintered into a hundred fragments and fell to the ground like so many blazing meteors. Hanumān stood unmoved and he smashed Nikumbha on the breast with his fist. The Rākṣasa’s armor was shattered and blood shot from his breast. He reeled but quickly recovered and seized hold of Hanumān, lifting him from the ground. Seeing this the other Rākṣasas roared in joy.
Taking hold of Hanumān, Nikumbha ran toward Lanka. The monkey struck Nikumbha on the head and disengaged himself from the Rākṣasa’s grip. He landed on the ground in front of the demon. Hanumān struck Nikumbha down and then hurled himself onto the Rākṣasa’s body. Pressing down all of Nikumbha’s limbs, Hanumān took hold of his neck and twisted it ferociously. He tore off the Rākṣasa’s screaming head and hurled it into the ocean. Observing this incredible feat, the Rākṣasa army fled pell-mell in all directions, some rushing into the city, some jumping into the sea, and others flying into the sky. Hanumān raised a great roar of victory and the monkeys surrounding him shouted for joy.
3.11: Lakṣman Battles Indrajit
In Lanka, Rāvaṇa was stunned. Twice he had celebrated his seeming victory and twice he had been forced to think again. He sat brooding in his palace. This monkey army was charmed. They had been virtually wiped out by Indrajit, but suddenly they were back on their feet and fighting again. Now Kumbhakarna’s two invincible sons had been killed. Things were becoming desperate. Rāvaṇa looked across at Indrajit. This time he must not fail. Rāvaṇa spoke to his son, who was as powerful as his father in every way.
“O heroic prince, these two mortals must die. Although twice defeated by you, They have somehow miraculously escaped death. Now Their luck must have run out. You are the conqueror of Indra. What then of two humans? Go forth again my son. Use any means whatsoever and kill Them!”
Once again Indrajit went out from Lanka, accompanied by the remaining force of Rākṣasas. After again worshipping the fire on the battlefield he stood up and began to brag of his power. “The two human brothers may be taken as killed. Today I shall secure an eminent victory for my anxious father. This evening he will rest peacefully, experiencing the highest happiness.”
The Rākṣasa prince used his powers of sorcery to create a thick blanket of darkness. Rising into the sky, he rushed toward the Vanara army, who were thrown into confusion. He rained down steel arrows in the hundreds of thousands. Again he targeted Rāma and Lakṣman. The two princes were enraged by his treacherous attack. Rāma blazed up like a huge fire fed with volumes of ghee. He bent His great bow into a full circle and released deadly golden shafts that went toward Indrajit in the sky. Using the Shabda-astra, which sought out an invisible opponent, Rāma grievously pierced the demon. He saw His arrows fall to the ground, soaked in the demon’s blood.
Indrajit drove away from the princes, sending arrows at the monkeys and killing thousands. Seeing this, Lakṣman lost all patience. He fitted an arrow to His bow and spoke to Rāma. “I shall now release the brahmāstra, charging it with the power to kill all the Rākṣasas at once. We need tolerate their insolence no longer.”
Rāma reached out and checked His brother. “We should not slay innocent creatures unnecessarily,” He told Him. “The Rākṣasas in Lanka have been sufficiently punished by our assault on their city. Let Us now simply annihilate the remaining warriors. I shall myself immediately kill this Indrajit if he remains on the battlefield for even a moment.”
Rāma declared that the time for Indrajit’s destruction had come. Even if the Rākṣasa fled for shelter to the farthest reaches of the universe, he would not escape. Rāma raised His bow and looked up to the sky.
Divining Rāma’s intentions, Indrajit quickly withdrew from the battlefield. He entered Lanka and considered what tactic he should use to kill Rāma and His brother. Using his prodigious mystic powers, he conjured an illusory image of Sītā. Placing this false form on his chariot, he again went out onto the battlefield, this time remaining visible in the sky.
Hanumān spotted the chariot of Indrajit drawn by its demonic tigers and he rushed toward it with a mountainous crag in his hands. As he looked up, however, he saw a woman held in the demon’s grasp. Although beautiful, she appeared wretched and sorrowful. She was clad in a single garment, unadorned, with her limbs covered in dust and mud. Gazing at her for a while, Hanumān recognized her as Sītā.
As the monkeys looked on, Indrajit took out his sword and grabbed Sītā by her hair. He began to strike her and she cried out, “Rāma! O Rāma!”
Hanumān was seized with agony upon seeing this and hot tears fell from his eyes. He angrily rebuked Indrajit. “O wicked one, your act is meant only for your own destruction. Although descended from a Brahmin ṛṣi, you are ignoble, mean and sinful. How can you kill a helpless woman, torn from her home and her husband, weak, wretched and crying for protection? Your own death is close. You shall then descend to a dark and condemned region, inhabited by the lowest of creatures.”
Indrajit laughed. Dropping the form of Sītā, he grabbed his bow and loosed off a thousand fierce arrows at Hanumān and the other monkeys. He then took hold of Sītā’s hair again and replied harshly to Hanumān. “She for whom you have all come so far and fought so hard I will now slay. I shall then make short work of Rāma and Lakṣman as well as you, O monkey. I care not for the immorality of my acts, for whatever causes pain to one’s enemy must be achieved by any means.”
Indrajit raised his sword and cut the form of Sītā into two parts. Laughing loudly, he called out to the monkeys, “Here is Sītā now killed by me. Your efforts to recover her have all been in vain. Fight on, if you must, but all of you will meet the same end as she.”
The demon rose high into the sky, wheeling about in his golden chariot. Hanumān was seized with grief and anger. Completely infuriated, he fell upon the Rākṣasas in a frenzy. Repeatedly roaring he consumed the Rākṣasa army like the fire of universal dissolution. He took up a massive rock and hurled it straight at Indrajit’s chariot, but the demon rose still higher and the rock fell short. It dropped to the earth, crushing hundreds of demons and opening a chasm in the ground.
Hanumān was filled with despair. Looking around the at monkey army, he shouted to them, “Cease fighting! The object of our battle is now impossible to achieve, for Sītā lies killed. Let us withdraw and ask Rāma what should be done next.”
The monkeys pulled away from the fight and moved back toward Rāma and Lakṣman. Seeing this, Indrajit also withdrew, taking the demons with him. He made his way to a sanctuary in a cavern known as Nikumbhila. There he began to perform a ritual for assuring his victory in the battle. Worshipping the powerful goddess Kali, a fearful form of the personified material energy, he made offerings of blood into a sacrificial fire. The demon knew the final battle would soon be fought. He had been granted a boon by Brahmā that once having performed the ritual at Nikumbhila, he would remain completely invincible in battle until his enemy was defeated. The time for realizing that boon had arrived. Surrounded by other Rākṣasas, Indrajit sat before the fire reciting the sacred mantras.
* * *
On the battlefield, Hanumān came before Rāma and told Him the terrible news. Rāma at once collapsed to the ground and lay there insensible, like a great tree cut at the root. The monkeys quickly brought cool, scented water and sprinkled His face. Lakṣman, tormented by agony, knelt down and lifted Rāma up. He spoke to His brother in a choked voice. “What is the value of a virtuous life? O Rāma, how can one like You suffer such reverses? If righteousness brought any good results, then this calamity could never have occurred. Indeed, if good and bad fruits accrued to the righteous and unrighteous respectively, then Rāvaṇa would have long ago sunk into hell, while You would now be reunited with Your spouse. What can influence all-powerful destiny? It moves only according to its own will. Our acts are all feeble and their results always uncertain.”
Lakṣman cried out in pain. Thinking of the sinful Indrajit, His eyes blazed with fury. He urged Rāma to rise up and avenge Sītā. Together They should at once completely destroy Lanka with all its buildings and citizens.
As Lakṣman spoke to Rāma, Vibhishana arrived. He saw Rāma lying in a swoon with His head on Lakṣman’s lap. All around the monkeys were given over to grief and were lying on the ground and shedding tears. Vibhishana was gripped by despondency upon seeing Rāma’s state. He knelt by Lakṣman and asked Him what had happened. The prince told him about Sītā.
Vibhishana, after reflecting for some moments, began to nod slowly. “The report of Sītā’s death is as absurd as the drying up of the ocean,” he said. “There is no possibility that Rāvaṇa would allow the princess to be killed. He is consumed by desire to possess Her. Even though he was well apprised by me of the consequences of keeping Her, the sinful demon would by no means return Her to You, O Rāma. You have been tricked by the devious Indrajit. Know that woman killed by him to be mere illusion. There is no doubt in my mind.”
Rāma opened His eyes and looked up at Vibhishana. The Rākṣasa explained that Indrajit must have created the illusion in order to weaken Rāma and to buy time. He would now be performing a ritual in the Nikumbhila sanctuary. If allowed to finish his ritual, he would be impossible to overcome. There was no time to lose. The monkeys should go at once to the sanctuary and stop the ritual. Vibhishana recommended that Lakṣman go, while Rāma remained stationed on the battlefield.
Still overcome by grief, Rāma did not fully comprehend Vibhishana’s words. He asked the Rākṣasa to repeat what he had said. Vibhishana told Him everything again and then said, “Rise up and take courage. Sītā will yet be recovered. Marshal the troops and send them with Lakṣman. Surely Lakṣman will be able to bring about Indrajit’s end with His deadly arrows.”
Vibhishana explained to Rāma about the boon granted by Brahmā. There was a condition that if Indrajit was disturbed during the course of the ritual, he could be killed. That was why he had created the illusion of Sītā’s death. He obviously considered that this would throw Rāma and His army into total confusion for long enough. Vibhishana urged Lakṣman on. “Go now, O valiant one. When Indrajit is killed, Rāvaṇa and his army will be finished for sure.”
Rāma stood up and spoke to Vibhishana. “What you say is true, O night-ranger. Indrajit’s prowess in sorcery and in battle is formidable. He cannot be discerned even by the gods when he rides on his chariot in the sky. This one must be slain at once.”
Rāma turned to Lakṣman and ordered Him to leave for Nikumbhila. Vibhishana would show Him the way and the foremost monkeys, headed by Sugrīva and Hanumān, would accompany him.
Lakṣman felt delighted in mind. He bent down and touched Rāma’s feet. Taking up His bow and sword, He stood ready for battle and said in a thunderous voice, “Today My swift-coursing arrows will pierce through Indrajit’s body and tear him to pieces. That Rākṣasa is now as good as dead.”
Rāma uttered benedictory Vedic mantras and the monkeys cheered. Followed by the vast monkey army, Lakṣman set off for the Nikumbhila sanctuary. After they had covered many miles Vibhishana pointed to the Rākṣasa army laying ahead. Indrajit had placed them all around the sanctuary, in the distance they appeared like a great black cloud descended to earth.
The monkeys and bears took up trees and rocks and charged straight at the Rākṣasa army. The Rākṣasas replied with all kinds of weapons and the sky between the two armies became filled with missiles of various shapes. The monkey army pressed forward and began to overrun the Rākṣasas, who had been caught by surprise. The Rākṣasas ran about crying in fear. They called for Indrajit to help them. Indrajit became indignant upon realizing that he was being disturbed. Who had been so insolent as to attack him during his sacrifice? With the ritual still unfinished he stood up and went out of the sanctuary. Seeing the battle raging, he quickly mounted his chariot and went out amid the Rākṣasas.
Hanumān had taken the lead in the battle and was wreaking havoc among the demons. With an enormous tree he battered innumerable Rākṣasas to death. The Rākṣasas surrounded him and rained down a shower of arrows, spears, swords and javelins. Hanumān laughed off those weapons and continued thrashing the demons with trees and boulders. Indrajit, seeing Hanumān destroying the Rākṣasa army, ordered his charioteer to go quickly before the monkey.
As Indrajit appeared before Hanumān, the monkey challenged him to a duel. “Stand here before me and display your strength of arms, O evil one. You shall not return with your life today.” Indrajit took up his bow and prepared to shoot arrows at Hanumān. Seeing this, Vibhishana urged Lakṣman to engage with Indrajit immediately. Lakṣman twanged His bow, making a terrific sound. Indrajit turned and saw the prince who called out to him, “I challenge you to battle. Stay before My vision and fight fairly, if you dare. Death now awaits you, O vile Rākṣasa.”
Indrajit spotted Vibhishana next to Lakṣman and began to rebuke him with harsh words. “You are the disgrace of our race, O uncle. How can you display enmity toward me, who am as good as your own son? What do you know of virtue? You have abandoned your own people and sided with the enemy. Pointing out my vulnerability, O degraded one, you have rendered great harm to your own brother. Surely you do not know right from wrong.”
Vibhishana replied that he did not share Rākṣasa disposition. Although born in their race he did not take pleasure in the sinful acts they enjoyed. Citing texts from the Vedas, Vibhishana said to his nephew, “One should always abandon an unrighteous relative, even as one should quickly abandon a burning house. There is no greater sin than stealing another’s wife. By killing eminent ṛṣis and waging war on the gods, Rāvaṇa has lost all sense of propriety. Now, having stolen Rāma’s wife, he has filled his cup of sins to overflowing. Along with all his kinsmen he will soon die. But first, you shall die today at Lakṣman’s hands.”
Indrajit replied harshly to his uncle. Lifting his ornate bow he derided Lakṣman, who was mounted upon Hanumān’s back. “How will You withstand my arrows loosed with the force of a thunderbolt? It is clear that You have already embarked upon the road to Yamarāja’s abode. I shall send You there at once, along with all these monkeys.”
Lakṣman was enraged to hear Indrajit’s bragging. He thundered back at him. “You are strong only with your words, O Rākṣasa! Those possessed of actual prowess show it with deeds, not boasts. Heroes never need to fight invisibly. You are simply a thief and a coward. If you have any prowess, then show it today! Here I am within the range of your arrows.”
Indrajit at once released dozens of arrows that hissed through the air like serpents. They struck Lakṣman and pierced through His armor. The prince began to bleed and, swelling with fury, He appeared like a smokeless fire. Without the least hesitation, He took out five steel arrows worked with gold and fitted with eagle feathers. Pulling His bowstring back to His ear, He shot them at Indrajit. They flew like the rays of the sun, penetrating the Rākṣasa’s breast. The demon replied with three more arrows of his own, which sped through the air in flames.
The two combatants fought furiously, each seeking a quick victory. They appeared like two lions as they stood firmly on the battlefield hurling their weapons at each other. Fighting from Hanumān’s back, Lakṣman displayed great dexterity. His arrows fell upon Indrajit from all sides, striking him like thunderbolts.
The Rākṣasa was stunned by Lakṣman’s attack, and he reeled in his chariot. Regaining his senses, the demon shouted at Lakṣman, trying to create fear in the prince. Indrajit reminded Him how He had been overcome by the Rākṣasa’s weapons on two former occasions. Surely Lakṣman had forgotten that or else how could He be so foolish as to stand before him again?
The Rākṣasa at once pierced Lakṣman, Hanumān and Vibhishana, each with a dozen fierce arrows. Lakṣman laughed and derided the demon’s strength. “These arrows are nothing. They strike Me like so many flowers and simply increase My desire to fight.” Lakṣman covered the Rākṣasa with swift-coursing arrows that tore off his heavy golden armor, which dropped from the demon like stars falling from heaven. He was covered in blood and he shone like the morning sun.
In reply, Indrajit sent a thousand arrows at Lakṣman and shattered His armor. The two warriors, lacerated with arrows, battled strenuously for some hours. Neither of them retreated nor felt any fatigue. Hails of arrows sped through the sky like showers falling from autumnal clouds. Both were expert in mystic missiles and they fired and countered those weapons again and again. Networks of arrows clashed together in the heavens, emitting fire and sparks. Huge fireballs were countered by sheets of water, while weapons producing roaring gales were checked by others which created immovable mountains.
A vehement and terrible struggle ensued for a long time. The earth was covered with a mass of arrows that looked like a carpet of sacred kusha grass. The two princes, arrows sticking from every part of their bodies, bled profusely, appearing like mountains covered with trees and giving forth shining red oxides.
As they fought, Vibhishana exhorted the monkeys to engage with the other Rākṣasas. He told them that Indrajit was accompanied by all that was left of the Rākṣasa army. Vibhishana named all the Rākṣasa heroes who had been slain, thereby giving joy to the monkeys and increasing their enthusiasm. They lashed the ground with their tails and bared their terrible teeth. The monkeys stood gazing intently at the Rākṣasas. Vibhishana himself then took up his bow and began sending his deadly shafts toward the Rākṣasas. Roaring like lions, the monkeys leapt toward the Rākṣasas and a fearful battle took place.
Lakṣman dismounted from Hanumān’s back, and the monkey dashed into the fray, whirling a great tree trunk and mowing down the Rākṣasas in hundreds. Jambavan led his army of fierce bears straight into the battle and a melee spread in all directions, as monkeys, bears and Rākṣasas tore and struck each other wildly.
Lakṣman stood on the ground facing Indrajit. The Rākṣasa remained in his chariot and continued to release volumes of arrows at the prince. Becoming enraged, Lakṣman sped four arrows at the four frightful-looking tigers drawing the demon’s chariot. The chariot halted as the beasts were struck by Lakṣman’s shafts. He then took a crescent-tipped arrow and forcefully released it at Indrajit’s charioteer, severing his head from his body. As the charioteer fell to the ground, four heroic monkeys bounded over to Indrajit’s chariot and fell upon the four tigers. Crushing and pounding them, the monkeys reduced them to a lifeless mass and then ran back to Lakṣman’s side.
Indrajit leapt to the ground and retreated back among the other Rākṣasas. He ordered them to hold off the monkeys and keep Lakṣman engaged. Then the Rākṣasa prince rose swiftly into the air and entered Lanka to get another chariot. Within a short while he appeared again on the battlefield, driving a golden chariot equipped with every kind of weapon. Full of vigor for the fight, Indrajit at once assailed Lakṣman and Vibhishana, while simultaneously firing innumerable shafts at the monkey warriors. So swift was his movement that it was impossible to see when he lifted his bow, pulled back the string or took out and fitted his arrows. All that could be perceived was an endless stream of whetted shafts being sent in all directions.
Indrajit tore thousands of monkeys to pieces. They fell down, screaming and crying out to Lakṣman for protection. His eyes blazing in anger, Lakṣman shot five straight-going arrows which smashed Indrajit’s bow. Seeing this wondrous feat, the gods and ṛṣis, assembled in the sky, applauded Lakṣman. The prince then pierced Indrajit with a dozen more arrows, which went right through the Rākṣasa’s body and fell to the ground like red serpents entering the earth.
Vomiting blood, Indrajit grasped another bow and immediately released a hundred arrows at Lakṣman. Those arrows screamed through the air shooting forth bright red flames. Lakṣman remained calm and intercepted the blazing shafts with His own infallible arrows. Indrajit sped innumerable other arrows toward Lakṣman but the prince parried them all. He answered the demon’s attack by again severing his charioteer’s head with another crescent-headed shaft. Although deprived of their controller, however, Indrajit’s steeds continued to pull the chariot, rising into the air and describing various circular movements.
Lakṣman displayed astonishing prowess. He completely covered Indrajit’s chariot with arrows and then pierced all of the other demons surrounding the Rākṣasa prince. Indrajit again descended and shot three arrows which embedded themselves in Lakṣman’s forehead, making Him appear like a three-peaked mountain. Lakṣman at once replied with five searing shafts that thudded into Indrajit’s head. The two opponents, bleeding profusely from their wounds, looked like a couple of kinshuka trees in full blossom.
As Indrajit reeled from his attack, Lakṣman quickly shot four deadly arrows which killed the demon’s four horses. The Rākṣasa leapt down from the chariot. As he jumped, he hurled a golden lance at Vibhishana that resembled a bolt of heaven. Lakṣman instantly shot five arrows at that speeding lance and cut it to pieces. Vibhishana took up his bow and pierced Indrajit in the breast with a number of arrows that struck him with a sound like thunderclaps.
Indrajit bellowed in anger. He took from his quiver a glowing arrow which he had received from Yamarāja. Seeing the Rākṣasa fitting this mystic missile to his bow, Lakṣman quickly invoked a weapon He had obtained in a dream from Kuvera. The two infuriated combatants pulled back their bowstrings with the divine weapons fitted. Both bows emitted a piercing noise like a pair of cranes. When released, the two weapons collided violently in mid-air and lit up the heavens. A great fire appeared in the sky along with billows of smoke. The missiles fell to the ground in hundreds of blazing pieces.
Lakṣman invoked the Varuṇastra, the weapon presided over by the god of the waters. Perceiving this, Indrajit countered the weapon with another imbued with the divine energy of Śiva. The Rākṣasa then released the Āgneyastra, but this was countered by Lakṣman with the Sūryastra, the missile charged with the immense potency of the sun-god. Remaining firm on the battlefield, Indrajit placed a long golden arrow on his bow and began reciting sacred incantations. Darts, maces, swords, axes, hammers and other weapons flew from his bow by the hundreds. Not disturbed, Lakṣman invoked a missile presided over by the wind-god and immediately neutralized Indrajit’s weapon.
The battle between man and demon raged furiously. Both of them relentlessly hurled their deadly missiles and filled the sky with volleys of arrows. Neither showed any sign of fatigue and both were worked up with a terrible anger. All around them the monkeys and Rākṣasas clashed violently in a fearful and bloody battle. The gods, headed by Indra and accompanied by the great ṛṣis, stood in the canopy of the sky. They prayed to Viṣṇu and showered blessings upon Lakṣman and the Vanaras, wishing them victory.
Lakṣman saw numerous omens indicative of victory and He considered the time for Indrajit’s destruction to have arrived. After reflecting for a moment the prince invoked a divine arrow He had received from Rāma which had formerly belonged to Indra. That beautiful shining arrow was imbued with inconceivable power. It was worked with gold and gems and fitted with peacock feathers. The arrow had rounded golden joints, its large steel tip was flat and broad, and its razor-sharp edges were inlaid with diamonds. As Lakṣman placed it upon his bow and drew back the string He invoked the divine Aindrastra, presided over by the king of the gods. Within Himself He prayed, “If Rāma is always true to His word and fixed in virtue, and if He possesses unrivaled power, then let this arrow end Indrajit’s life.”
The heroic Lakṣman concentrated His mind and released the arrow. It screamed toward Indrajit with blinding speed. Before the Rākṣasa could make any move to counter the weapon it severed his head from his shoulders. That handsome head with its jeweled helmet and blazing earrings rolled on the ground, bathed in blood and shining like gold. Rāvaṇa’s son dropped to the ground with his bow falling from his hand. All the monkeys and bears, along with Vibhishana, loudly rejoiced; and in the heavens the gods, Gandharvas and ṛṣis raised a shout of victory.
Their leader slain, the Rākṣasas lost all enthusiasm for the fight. Terror-stricken they flung down their weapons and fled in every direction. Some rushed into Lanka, some hid in mountain caves and others dropped into the sea. Seeing Indrajit lying dead, they all vanished from the battlefield, even as the rays of the sun disappear when the sun has set. The Rākṣasa prince lay on the ground like an extinguished fire.
A roll of celestial drums sounded in the skies and the singing of Gandharvas and Apsarās could be heard. The sky became clear and the sea calm. As the dust settled on the battlefield golden flowers rained from the heavens. Siddhas, Cāraṇas and Gandharvas appeared there and gazed upon the dead Rākṣasa. The monkeys leapt for joy, thundering and roaring, and applauding Lakṣman.
Surrounded by Hanumān, Jambavan and Vibhishana, Lakṣman returned to Rāma. After respectfully circumambulating Him, He stood by Rāma’s side with bow in hand, even as Indra might stand by the side of Viṣṇu. Rāma smiled, realizing that Lakṣman had succeeded in His difficult mission. He looked with affection upon His brother. Vibhishana described how Indrajit had been slain. Rāma cheered Lakṣman upon hearing this report and He addressed Him with great delight. “Well done, Lakṣman! You have achieved a great feat today. Without doubt this has assured our victory. You have cut off Rāvaṇa’s right arm and his best hope of success in the battle. Now that the merciless and evil-minded Indrajit is killed, we will see the sinful Rāvaṇa issuing forth for battle. I shall then dispatch him to Death’s abode, along with all his army.”
Rāma thanked all of the warriors who had accompanied Lakṣman. They had fought solidly for three days. All of them were badly wounded. Lakṣman Himself was severely lacerated with arrow wounds, His body covered in blood. He was tormented with pain and breathing heavily. Rāma summoned Sushena, the monkey skilled in healing. He ordered him to treat Lakṣman and the others with the celestial remedies. They then rested on the field of battle, awaiting Rāvaṇa’s next move.
3.12: Rāvaṇa Exhibits His Prowess
The terrified Rākṣasas ran to Rāvaṇa and informed him of Indrajit’s fall. “Having closed with a greater hero, your powerful son has met his end,” they reported. “The highly glorious Indrajit, after gratifying Lakṣman with innumerable arrows, has gone to the next world.”
Rāvaṇa looked at his ministers for some moments in a state of utter dismay. He then fell to the ground in a swoon and remained unconscious for some time. When he recovered he fell back onto his throne and sat with a downcast face, lamenting loudly. “O my son, where have you gone? You conquered Indra and chased away all the gods; how then have you been overpowered by Lakṣman? When angered you were capable of terrorizing even Death himself. Your arrows could smash down the peaks of Mount Mandara. Time is truly all-powerful, for today you have been thrown down by that unconquerable force, even as you stood on the battlefield, weapons in hand.”
Rāvaṇa was inconsolable. He praised his dead son in many ways. Surely Indrajit had now reached the regions reserved for heroes. Now that he was dead, the gods, ṛṣis and guardians of the worlds would rejoice, their thorn being removed.
Thinking of Mandodari, Rāvaṇa cried out in agony. “Your mother, the blessed queen, will surely lose her life today. Soon I will hear the cries of the Rākṣasa women as they toss about on the ground. What perverse destiny has brought about your end before mine? O my dear Indrajit, how could you leave me here while Rāma and Lakṣman still live?”
Seized by unbearable grief, the demon king fell from his throne and rolled about on the golden floor of his palace. A violent anger then took possession of him and he breathed heavily. Jumping to his feet, he knitted his brows and roared furiously. Flames blazed forth from his wide open mouths. He looked like Time personified about to consume all the worlds.
The demon thought only of revenge. His eyes, red by nature, glowed brilliant red with anger. Tears fell from them like drops of molten metal. He ground his teeth, making a sound like two mountains being rubbed together. Taking up his long razor-edged sword, which shone like the bright blue sky, he held it aloft and thundered in fury. “Pleasing the self-born creator of all the worlds by rigorous austerities, I received from him an infallible boon. Not even the gods and demons combined can kill me in battle, what then of a couple of humans? Bring my bow! Fetch my impenetrable armor! Today I shall march out and make short work of Rāma and His entire army.”
Looking as if he might destroy the universe itself, Rāvaṇa glared all around him. His ministers shrank back in fear, uttering plaintive sounds. The demon king said to them, “My dear son played a hoax upon Rāma by killing an illusory Sītā. That hoax shall now become reality. I shall finish Sītā, who is so dear to Rāma.”
Bent on his evil purpose, Rāvaṇa immediately rushed out of his palace toward the ashoka grove. Seeing the infuriated demon coming out of his palace with upraised sword, the other Rākṣasas felt heartened. Surely now the war would soon be ended. Rāvaṇa had overcome the four guardians of the world. He would certainly have no problem with an army of monkeys and bears.
The demon stormed toward his gardens, but as he moved swiftly along the pathways his ministers ran up to him. They stood before him trying to dissuade him from his intention of killing Sītā. Already a terrible carnage among the Rākṣasas had been wrought simply due to Her being kidnapped. What might happen if Rāvaṇa actually killed Her?
Rāvaṇa would not be swayed. He strode into the gardens. Sītā saw him from a distance and began to tremble. Seeing his furious disposition and uplifted sword, She could understand that he intended to kill Her. The princess wondered about Her husband. Had He been slain? Why was Rāvaṇa so bold? If only She had gone with Hanumān. Why had She decided to stay in Lanka, tormented by this cruel Rākṣasa? This was all the fault of the cruel Manthara. Soon that wicked maid would rejoice with her purpose fulfilled. If not already dead, then Rāma would certainly not survive long when He heard of His beloved wife’s death.
As Rāvaṇa came close to Sītā, a minister named Suparshwa got before him, saying, “How are you contemplating such a mean and pointless act, O ten-headed monarch? No good can ever come from killing a woman, for it is condemned by everyone. This lady should be protected. You should vent your wrath on Rāma and Lakṣman, your actual enemies. If you kill Them, this princess will then be yours to enjoy.”
Rāvaṇa considered this advice. Perhaps Suparshwa was right. It would be foolish to needlessly lose the princess now after so much effort to retain Her. And Rāma might yet be overcome. There was no need to kill Sītā now. Better to kill Rāma; then She would surely submit to him.
Overcome by anger and lust as well as a burning grief, the demon turned away from Sītā and made his way to his council chamber. Surrounded by his ministers, he entered the great hall, afflicted by agony. He sank onto his gem-encrusted throne and sat there snorting like a furious lion. With folded hands he addressed the assembly. “I now depend fully on all of you. The time to destroy our arrogant enemy has come. Tomorrow I shall march out to kill Rāma. First, all of you should go out, weapons held high, and weaken the human prince and His army. I shall soon follow you.”
The Rākṣasas roared in joy. They rose up in a body and rushed out of the hall. Mounting horses, chariots, elephants and other carriers, they stormed out of the city. They immediately hurled a massive shower of axes, maces, spears, darts and iron clubs upon the monkeys, who replied with trees and rocks. The two armies again fell upon one another with a tremendous clamor.
Rāma decided it was time He demonstrated His own insurmountable prowess. He immediately penetrated deep into the ranks of the Rākṣasas. He moved like a whirlwind, leaving a trail of slaughtered demons in His wake. The Rākṣasas could hardly look at Him. No one could see His movements as He took out arrows from His inexhaustible quiver and sent them in all directions. By releasing the weapon of the Gandharvas, Rāma made Himself appear in a multitude of forms. To the confused Rākṣasas He seemed to be everywhere at once. They saw the curved golden ends of His bow whirling like a firebrand and seeming to completely surround them. His arrows flew from all directions simultaneously. They sliced the Rākṣasas to pieces. In less than two hours, Rāma had exterminated two hundred thousand Rākṣasas, along with eighteen thousand elephants and fourteen thousand horses.
The Rākṣasas were completely routed and they fled in panic. Their chariots lay smashed and their armor and weapons littered the ground. With the mangled corpses of Rākṣasas and animals lying everywhere, the battlefield appeared ghastly. The surviving Rākṣasas rushed back to Lanka, looking back in fear of Rāma.
The monkeys cheered and surrounded Rāma. Having withdrawn His divine weapons, He stood at ease, blazing with splendor. Sugrīva, Hanumān and Vibhishana looked in awe at Rāma who said to them, “Only the glorious Śiva and I can exhibit such ability with the celestial missiles.”
As the monkeys walked around Rāma with folded palms, the gods and ṛṣis praised him from the skies and a shower of flowers dropped down.
* * *
Rāvaṇa sat sighing in his palace. All around him he could hear the woeful laments of Rākṣasa women who had lost their husbands and sons. He was at his wit’s end. How had all this happened? What kind of humans were Rāma and Lakṣman? This was unimaginable. There were only a few powerful heroes left in the Rākṣasa army. Even the gods could not have reduced him to such a plight. What then of an army of monkeys and bears led by a human?
Rāvaṇa bit his lips and clenched his fists. His eyes were crimson, and he snorted loudly. Like a losing gambler impelled to stake his all, the demon summoned the last of his commanders and ordered them to again march out for battle. This time he would accompany them. Reluctantly, the Rākṣasas accepted Rāvaṇa’s command. They were stricken with terror as they thought of Rāma.
Seeing his commanders trembling in fear, Rāvaṇa laughed and began to speak. “With an endless shower of arrows resembling the rays of the sun, I shall dispatch Rāma and Lakṣman to Yamarāja’s abode. Today I shall avenge my kinsmen and followers. I will wipe out the monkey battalions with waves of weapons surging like a violent ocean. Heads transfixed on arrows will appear on the battlefield like so many lotuses upon golden stalks. Each of my arrows will pierce one hundred monkeys. The vultures and jackals will be fully sated with the flesh of my enemies today. Fetch my chariot and weapons! I shall immediately march at the head of my army.”
Rāvaṇa stood bellowing out his war cry. The demons felt heartened that their king was coming out to fight. That lordly Rākṣasa had never been defeated in battle. Surely this spelled the end of Rāma, Lakṣman and all the monkeys.
Quickly Rāvaṇa’s charioteer brought his golden war chariot. It was equipped with all the divine weapons and adorned with celestial gems. Around its sides were thousands of bright golden pinnacles. Rows of bejeweled pillars held its great canopy and a standard of cat’s-eye rose from its center like a massive palm tree. As it moved off, it thundered like a number of clouds, and it produced a beautiful ringing sound from thousands of small golden bells hanging around its sides.
The Rākṣasas were struck with wonder to see Rāvaṇa mounted on the chariot, which shone like the sun. The charioteer urged on the eight celestial steeds and the chariot sped along Lanka’s central highway. Right behind him came the last of his generals, Mahaparshwa, Virupaksha and Surantaka. Following them were the remainder of the Rākṣasa forces: three hundred thousand elephants, a hundred thousand chariots, six hundred thousand horsemen and the same number of infantry. Rāvaṇa led his force through Lanka’s northern gate and they rushed toward Rāma’s army, sending up loud shouts.
Even as Rāvaṇa charged, the sun became dim and the four quarters were enveloped in gloom. Birds shrieked hideously and the earth shook. Clouds rained blood and a meteor fell from the sky with a crash. Rāvaṇa felt his left eye twitching and his face became pale. A large vulture perched upon his standard and crows circled above him.
Not minding these fearful omens, Rāvaṇa careered madly toward the massed ranks of the monkey army. He plunged into them, immediately creating havoc. With arrows decked with gold he severed the heads of thousands of monkeys. Others were pierced in the heart and still others had their limbs lopped off. Some were crushed by his chariot and some smashed by his mace. Wherever his chariot moved, the monkeys could not stand and face him. An irresistible hail of arrows flew in all directions from Rāvaṇa’s chariot. He was as hard to approach as the scorching sun.
Soon the battlefield was strewn with the corpses of slain monkeys. As Rāvaṇa ploughed into the Vanara forces they fled, tortured by his weapons. The demon king dispersed the simian ranks like the wind dissipating clouds. Having cut through the monkeys, Rāvaṇa searched for Rāma.
Sugrīva became maddened upon seeing the destruction of his army. He threw himself into the battle and began annihilating the Rākṣasas on all sides. Roaring at a high pitch, the Vanara king rushed at the Rākṣasas, whirling a massive tree. He killed them even as the wind of destruction would knock down trees at the end of an age. Sugrīva hurled upon the Rākṣasas a formidable number of huge rocks in rapid succession, like a shower of hailstones falling upon a flock of birds. The Rākṣasas fell by the hundreds, their heads smashed. They appeared like so many crumbling mountains hit by thunderbolts.
Virupaksha leapt down from his chariot and challenged Sugrīva. He shot a hundred fierce arrows at the monkey. The Rākṣasa then mounted upon a great elephant and roared. Sugrīva turned toward the demon and seized hold of a huge tree. He bounded into the air and brought the tree down upon the elephant’s head. The colossal beast staggered backwards and sank to its knees. Virupaksha leapt down and took out his sword. He rushed at Sugrīva, who hurled a heavy crag at the demon. Dodging the rock, Virupaksha bounded forward and struck Sugrīva a terrible blow with his sword. The monkey flew back and fell to the ground, breathing heavily.
Coming back to his senses after some moments, Sugrīva sprang up and aimed a blow at the Rākṣasa with his fist. Virupaksha avoided the blow and again struck the monkey on the chest. Sugrīva, blazing with anger, swung his hand with the speed of the wind. He struck the Rākṣasa on his temple with the force of Indra’s thunderbolt. Virupaksha dropped to the ground with blood streaming from his mouth, nose, eyes and ears. He tossed about, bellowing in pain. Losing consciousness, the Rākṣasa gave up his life.
Headed by Rāma and Lakṣman, the chief monkeys fought in a frenzy. Sugrīva, Aṅgada, Hanumān and other principal Vanaras cut down the Rākṣasa forces like a field of ripe wheat. The demon king Rāvaṇa agonized at seeing his army overwhelmed. He turned to Mahaparshwa and said, “O heroic one, my hopes now rest with you. Repay your debt to your master and destroy this hostile army of monkeys. Do not delay.”
The Rākṣasa folded his palms and bowed slightly to Rāvaṇa. Raising his mighty bow he rushed into the Vanara forces like a moth entering a flame. Endowed with extraordinary strength, he carved a path through the monkeys with his blazing arrows. With deadly accuracy he severed the arms, legs and heads of the monkeys, sending up his fearful war cry. Struck hard and reeling from Mahaparshwa’s attack, the monkeys ran to Sugrīva for protection.
The monkey king rushed at the Rākṣasa and hurled a tremendous crag straight at his chariot. Mahaparshwa saw the rock flying at him and, unperturbed, released swift arrows that broke it to pieces. Shattered into a thousand fragments by a stream of arrows, the rock descended to the ground like a flock of vultures. Sugrīva immediately tore up a tree and threw it at the demon with all his strength. Again Mahaparshwa fired arrows, which sliced the tree into pieces.
Sugrīva then picked up an iron bludgeon that lay on the ground nearby. He leapt forward and killed the team of horses yoked to the demon’s chariot. The Rākṣasa jumped down clutching his dreadful mace. He hurled the spiked mace at Sugrīva and the monkey struck it with his bludgeon. With a great explosion the two weapons shattered and fell to the ground.
The two heroes fell upon each other and wrestled for some time. They struck each other with their fists, knees and heads, roaring and rolling about on the ground. Sugrīva lifted the Rākṣasa and threw him to a distance. Getting up at once, Mahaparshwa took hold of a sword and shield and rushed at Sugrīva. The monkey quickly looked around and found another sword. With upraised weapons, the two powerful combatants met together, shouting in joy.
A fierce sword fight ensued, creating a shower of sparks as the weapons clashed together. Suddenly Mahaparshwa brought down his sword with full force onto Sugrīva’s shoulder. It embedded itself in the monkey’s armor. As the Rākṣasa tried to extract it, Sugrīva quickly swung his own weapon in a short arc and severed the demon’s head from his shoulders.
As the gods and Siddhas looked on, the Rākṣasa fell lifeless to the ground. His head rolled away with its teeth clenched and its golden earrings glittering. Sugrīva stood with his blood-soaked sword, looking like a dark cloud graced by a bright sunbeam. The monkeys, overjoyed, cheered their leader and thronged around him. The Rākṣasas fled toward Rāvaṇa, howling in fear.
In the meantime the other powerful Rākṣasa commander Surantaka had been slain in a duel with Aṅgada. Now Rāvaṇa alone remained among the great Rākṣasa heroes. He was consumed by rage. Looking around at his devastated army, he saw Rāma and Lakṣman fighting in the distance. The demon ordered his charioteer to go toward the princes. As his chariot moved across the earth, it gave off a sound like the rumbling of a thousand thundering clouds. The ground shook and the monkeys fled simply from hearing the terrifying sound.
The demon king took out a brilliant arrow and placed it on his bow. He then invoked a missile presided over by Rāhu, a malevolent and powerful enemy of the gods. Rāvaṇa released the fearful weapon, which then annihilated the monkeys by the hundreds of thousands. Blazing steel shafts sped in all directions, dispersing Rāma’s army as the sun disperses a morning mist. None dared face the Rākṣasa king as he rushed toward Rāma.
Seeing the demon approach like an onrushing comet, Lakṣman sped innumerable arrows toward him. Those arrows could hardly be seen as they screamed through the air, but the demon displayed astonishing dexterity and cut them all down. Rāvaṇa went straight past Lakṣman and approached Rāma. He loosed a shower of arrows on Rāma which were like venomous serpents with flaming heads. Rāma stood on the battlefield like an immovable mountain. He immediately countered Rāvaṇa’s arrows with crescent-headed shafts that cut them to pieces.
Rāvaṇa continued to send volleys of arrows at Rāma, and the prince replied with equal numbers of His own. The sky was filled with arrows resembling flocks of golden birds. Rāma and the demon circled each other from left to right, each fixing his gaze on the other. They appeared like Death personified and Yamarāja himself, meeting for a violent encounter. They completely covered the sky with their arrows and caused a shadow to envelop the battlefield. Both kept their bows bent to a full circle and both moved with great speed, keeping their weapons trained on the other.
Rāma’s blazing golden armor deflected Rāvaṇa’s shafts, while the demon’s impenetrable mail rendered Rāma’s arrows ineffective. Seeing his arrows falling uselessly to the ground, Rāvaṇa sent a dozen fierce shafts which pierced Rāma’s brow. With those golden arrows protruding from His head and producing profuse blood, Rāma appeared to be wearing a shining crown decorated with a red garland. Impervious to the pain, Rāma invoked the Rudrastra, presided over by Śiva, and sent a fearful hail of flaming arrows at the demon. They struck Rāvaṇa on every part of his body, seeking out his vulnerable points, but the demon’s celestial armor again repelled the shafts and they entered the earth, hissing like furious snakes.
Rāvaṇa then invoked the fearful Rākṣasa weapon, imbuing it with his own enormous personal power. As he released it all kinds of strange missiles sped toward Rāma. Some had the heads of terrible lions with wide open mouths, and others had the heads of wolves, jackals, donkeys, boars, dogs, alligators and venomous serpents. Rāvaṇa’s mystic weapon produced a frightening and discordant sound. It assailed Rāma from every side.
Unshaken, Rāma moved with great agility and dodged the shafts as they fell. He dropped to one knee and took out a blazing golden arrow. Fitting it to His bow, He invoked the Āgneyastra. With that weapon He produced arrows of every description. Some resembled the radiant sun, others the moon, and others appeared like blazing meteors. Some flew like flashes of lightning and some were flaming crescents. Others rose into the sky like shining planets, descending to the earth like brilliant constellations fallen from heaven. Those divine arrows struck down all of Rāvaṇa’s missiles which were killing the monkeys all over the battlefield.
Rāvaṇa blazed up in anger as he saw his wonderful weapon neutralized. He took out another dreadful missile, which had been fashioned by Maya, the architect of the celestial demons known as Asuras. Rāvaṇa charged the weapon with the potency of Rudra and fired it into the sky. At once there dropped from all sides innumerable flaming pikes and maces, along with massive iron clubs. Mystical nooses and thunderbolts fell upon the monkey army, accompanied by a piercing gale, like the wind which blows at the end of an age. That demoniac weapon began to annihilate the monkeys. A vast number of blazing missiles directed themselves at Rāma, who responded by invoking the Gandharva weapon.
Immediately, countless arrows swept like a sheet across the entire battlefield. Without striking any of the monkeys, the arrows struck and disabled Rāvaṇa’s missiles. All of them were cut to pieces and they fell to the earth. Without a second’s delay Rāvaṇa employed the Sūryastra. It brought into being a stream of large brilliant discuses which flew from Rāvaṇa’s bow. As they rose into view they lit up all directions as if a hundred suns had risen on the battlefield.
Rāma stood firm and pierced every one of the discuses with His own shafts, charging them with a force equal to that of Rāvaṇa’s weapon. They split apart the flaming missiles and rendered them harmless as soon as they left Rāvaṇa’s bow. As Rāma countered his missile, Rāvaṇa sent ten barbed arrows which pierced the prince all over His body. Enraged, Rāma instantly responded with a hundred of His own arrows which thudded deeply into Rāvaṇa’s limbs.
Lakṣman then came forward and challenged the demon. Raising His bow He sped a number of shafts at Rāvaṇa that cut to pieces the demon’s standard, which bore the emblem of a man’s head. With a single crescent-headed arrow, Lakṣman severed the head of Rāvaṇa’s charioteer. Then with five more well-aimed arrows, He broke apart the Rākṣasa’s gleaming bow. At the same time Vibhishana leapt forward and struck down with his mace the demon’s steeds, which were as tall as hills.
Rāvaṇa quickly leapt from his chariot and gazed at his younger brother with flaming eyes. He hurled a blazing lance at Vibhishana which looked like a thunderbolt, but as it flew toward Vibhishana, Lakṣman cut it to pieces with three razor-headed arrows. That golden lance, which was bedecked with jewels, fell to the earth like a shower of meteors.
Rāvaṇa took up another lance even more terrible than the first. It shone with a lurid glow and emitted bright blue tongues of fire. Rāvaṇa raised his lance and fixed his gaze on Vibhishana. Lakṣman saw His friend in danger and covered the demon king with countless shafts. Rāvaṇa was stunned by the ferocity of Lakṣman’s arrows and he turned to face the prince. He shouted out in anger. “You have saved Vibhishana but now You are Yourself in grave danger. O proud one, stand ready! This lance, made by Maya Dānava for the destruction of the gods, will pierce Your heart, leaving Your body only after taking Your life.”
Rāvaṇa leveled his infallible lance at Lakṣman. It was adorned with eight golden bells and gave off a loud chiming as the demon pulled it back. With his bludgeon-like arm, Rāvaṇa hurled the lance with full force. It sped through the air cracking like thunder and spread a shower of brilliant sparks in its wake. Seeing it approach, Lakṣman uttered an imprecation. “May you prove ineffectual. May your attempt to take My life fail. May all be well with Lakṣman.”
As the prince spoke the lance struck Him full on the chest. Grievously hurt by the weapon, Lakṣman collapsed unconscious to the ground. Rāma was seized with sorrow to see His brother reduced to that state. His eyes filled with tears and His mouth became parched and dry. As furious as the all-devouring fire of universal destruction, He glared at the demon.
Rāma ran over to His brother. The lance had pierced His armor and stuck into His body. Rāma carefully extracted the lance and snapped it in two. He gently lifted Lakṣman and embraced Him. As He held the grievously wounded prince, Rāvaṇa shot serpent-like arrows at Him. Without caring for the arrows Rāma called to Hanumān and Sugrīva. “Guard this prince carefully. The time has come for Me to manifest my strength. I shall make short work of this ten-headed monster. Here is My unfailing promise: the world will soon be devoid of either Rāvaṇa or Myself. Let the three worlds witness My power today in battle. I shall achieve a feat which will be spoken of by all beings for as long as the world exists.”
Rāma stood up and immediately released an endless stream of ferocious shafts at Rāvaṇa. Greatly harassed, the demon replied with a shower of flaming steel arrows and iron clubs. Rāma countered Rāvaṇa’s missiles as they sped through the air, striking each and every one of them down. He fought wildly, sending screaming arrows that struck Rāvaṇa on every part of his body.
The demon fell back as Rāma closed on him. He was entirely covered by Rāma’s golden-plumed shafts. Rāvaṇa could hardly do anything in response as Rāma unleashed His fury. Completely overwhelmed, the Rākṣasa turned and took to his heels.
3.13: The Final Battle
As Rāvaṇa retreated in fear, Rāma went back to Lakṣman. He dropped down by His side and cradled the prince’s head in His hands. Lakṣman seemed dead. The wound in His chest looked terrible and Lakṣman did not appear to be breathing. Choked by tears Rāma spoke aloud, giving vent to His grief. “Oh, how painful it is to see My beloved brother in such a state. My strength is deserting Me as I look upon Him lying here. Even if I win this fight I will feel no joy at all without Lakṣman. Indeed, this prince has followed Me through thick and thin. If He has now departed for the regions of Death, then I too shall follow Him.”
Rāma lamented loudly for some time. What would He say to Sumitra if He returned without Lakṣman? How could He face Bharata and Shatrughna? Surely They would censure Him for failing to protect His younger brother. It would be better to give up His own life than hear the reproaches of those most dear to Him. Rāma fell weeping to the ground.
Hanumān raised Him up and comforted Him. He called for Sushena, the Vanara physician. Perhaps Lakṣman would respond to his treatment of celestial herbs. Sushena approached the fallen prince and examined Him carefully. He looked up at Rāma and said, “Your brother still lives. See how His bodily luster has not departed. And I can detect the movement of His life air and the beat of His heart. But He needs urgent treatment.”
Sushena asked for more of the celestial herbs which Hanumān had fetched from the Himālayas. The herbs were brought quickly and Sushena administered them to Lakṣman. By the divine power of the herb sanjivakarani the prince slowly returned to consciousness. Then Sushena carefully administered the herbs vishalyakarani and sandhani, which together healed Lakṣman’s grievous wound and repaired His bones. Slowly He sat up and looked around. Rāma was overjoyed. He pressed Lakṣman to His bosom with tears in His eyes and said, “By good fortune You have been saved from the jaws of death. If You had died, I would not have been able to carry on this fight.”
Lakṣman, pained to hear His brother speak in that way, replied, “You have taken a solemn vow to kill Rāvaṇa and install Vibhishana on the throne of Lanka. You should not make that false for any reason. O great hero, fulfill Your vow at once! Let us see the evil Rāvaṇa lying dead on the battlefield, cut down by Your arrows.”
Rāma seized His bow. A terrible anger took hold of Him. Lakṣman had spoken well. The time for the arrogant demon’s destruction had arrived. As Rāma looked around He saw Rāvaṇa seated aboard his golden chariot. Having rested, the demon was again rushing at Rāma as the malefic planet Rāhu rushes toward the sun. From where He stood, Rāma immediately shot a steady stream of arrows that shone like fire. They rained down upon the demon, who in turn loosed off torrents of shafts that hissed like serpents as they flew at Rāma.
From the sky the gods observed the combat. Seeing Rāma standing upon the ground, Indra desired to assist Him. He summoned Mātali, his charioteer, and asked him to fetch his chariot. In a moment Indra’s radiant chariot appeared, drawn by its thousand steeds. Indra ordered Mātali to take it to Rāma and the charioteer at once descended onto the battlefield next to the prince. With folded palms he respectfully addressed Rāma. “Here is my Lord Indra’s chariot, O Raghava. Here also is his mighty bow and other infallible weapons, as well as his invincible golden armor. Please use all these to attain victory over Rāvaṇa, the enemy of the gods. I shall act as your charioteer.”
Rāma gazed with amazement at the wonderful vehicle. It was bedecked with glowing gems and wreaths of celestial flowers. A tall pole of cat’s-eye stood in its center bearing a brilliant golden standard. The chariot was suspended a bow length above the ground and a crystal staircase came down to Rāma’s feet. He circumambulated the chariot and then climbed aboard. The prince quickly donned Indra’s armor and took up his bow and celestial arrows. As He stood upon that divine chariot, He looked like the sun illumining all the quarters. At Mātali’s command the heavenly steeds surged forward and the chariot moved off with a rumbling sound that filled the earth and sky.
Rāvaṇa, realizing that Rāma was being assisted by his mortal enemy Indra, became even more enraged. He fired a celestial missile which unleashed hundreds of thousands of dreadful-looking serpents, their wide open mouths vomiting fire. Writhing and hissing they came from all sides and sped toward Rāma.
As the venomous snakes descended upon Him, Rāma at once invoked a weapon presided over by Garuḍa. A shower of arrows shot from his bow, turning as they flew into golden eagles with fierce talons and sharply curved beaks. The mystical eagles intercepted and destroyed all of Rāvaṇa’s serpents.
The demon roared furiously. He struck Mātali and all of his steeds with a forcible torrent of shafts with glowing steel heads. The Rākṣasa then sent a crescent-headed arrow which tore down the chariot’s golden standard. He followed this with countless other straight-flying arrows that struck Rāma on every part of His body. In seconds Indra’s great chariot was completely covered by Rāvaṇa’s arrows, so that no part of it was visible.
With his ten heads and massive bow Rāvaṇa stood in his chariot looking like the Maināka mountain risen from the ocean. Observing the demon overwhelming Rāma with his arrows, the gods and ṛṣis felt despondent. The monkeys became fearful and they observed grim-looking omens. The sun became dim and the sea tossed with waves that seemed to rise up to the sky. Jackals howled and ghosts and wraiths darted about on the battlefield.
So intense was Rāvaṇa’s assault that Rāma was unable to lift His bow and fit His arrows. Rāma’s eyes turned crimson with rage. He began to think of the destruction of the entire Rākṣasa race. With great expertise Mātali drove the chariot upwards and away from the hail of Rāvaṇa’s arrows. It burst forth like the sun emerging from a cloud. The gods showered blessings on Rāma while the Daityas and Dānavas uttered benedictions upon Rāvaṇa.
When the king of the Rākṣasas saw his adversary again stationed before him, he took up a fearful looking dart. That terrific weapon had spikes resembling mountain peaks. It had a flaming point which glowed with a brilliance that could not be looked upon. That dart was dear to Rāvaṇa and had been carefully kept and worshipped by him, reserved for a time when he faced a deadly enemy. It was irresistible to gods and demons alike. Rāvaṇa raised it with his serpent-like arm and roared with full force. The earth shook and the mountains trembled, sending their lions and elephants fleeing in fear. Looking at Rāma, the Rākṣasa thundered, “This dart, powerful like a thunderbolt, will now take Your life. Hurled by me it will strike both You and Your brother, leveling You with all the Rākṣasas You have slain. Guard Yourself if you can!”
The demon at once threw the dart. It flashed through the air, covered by a circle of lightning and emitting a deafening scream. Rāma instantly sent a hundred arrows at the dart but they were deflected and fell useless to the ground. Without losing a moment, Rāma took up Indra’s celestial javelin. He forcefully hurled it and it flew like a blazing meteor straight at the dart. Struck by the divine lance, Rāvaṇa’s weapon was split apart and dropped to the earth. The javelin, giving off a delightful sound from the many bells tied around it, returned again to Indra’s chariot.
Rāma immediately followed that astonishing feat by sending a fierce volley of arrows at the demon. They struck Rāvaṇa in all his limbs and pierced his ten heads. The demon blazed with anger and replied with an equal number of his own arrows. Rāma intercepted Rāvaṇa’s arrows while simultaneously continuing to strike him. The Rākṣasa then released an even greater number of shafts which penetrated Rāma’s defense and pierced through His armor. With blood shining on His breast Rāma looked like a great kinshuka tree in full blossom.
Neither opponent could easily see the other, so great was the number of arrows filling the air. Rāma pulled clear of Rāvaṇa’s attack and laughed heartily. He rebuked the demon. “You are proud of your strength, O Rākṣasa, but it will not save you now. Indeed, since you stole away My consort while I was not present, you cannot be considered heroic. You are a shameless coward given over to vanity alone, vaunting yourself as a hero. Had you tried taking Sītā from My presence you would not be alive today. By good fortune I see you now on the battlefield. Prepare to receive the results of your despicable and evil acts, O vile one! Carnivorous birds and beasts will soon feast upon your flesh and blood.”
With redoubled strength Rāma then sent wave upon wave of arrows straight at Rāvaṇa. The prince felt increased enthusiasm for the fight. He invoked all the celestial missiles and they immediately appeared before Him on the battlefield. In great joy, Rāma fired the weapons at the demon one after another. He recited the incantations with full concentration as He released His arrows. Charged with the mystic power of the divine astras the arrows tore into Rāvaṇa and sent him reeling. As he staggered about on his chariot, the Rākṣasa was showered with rocks and trees by the monkeys. The demon was reduced to a sorry plight, being unable to lift his bow or do anything in his defense. He sank down on the floor of his chariot. Seeing this, his charioteer veered away from the fight and retreated.
Rāvaṇa remained stunned for some time. Gradually returning to his senses, he saw that his charioteer had taken him away from the battlefield. He immediately chastised the charioteer with harsh words. “How have you disdained me in this way, O evil-minded one? Obviously considering me to be bereft of power, heroism and prowess, you have covered me with shame. Today you have nullified my valor, dignity and fame. While my enemy stood expectantly before me, deserving to be gratified by my arrows, you have made me into a coward.”
Rāvaṇa was beside himself with fury. He accused the charioteer of siding with the enemy and ordered him to return immediately to Rāma’s presence. The charioteer replied that he had only done what he felt was his proper duty. Rāvaṇa had been completely overpowered by Rāma’s weapons. Out of affection he had desired to save his master’s life. Citing verses from scripture supporting his actions, the charioteer begged Rāvaṇa’s forgiveness. The demon king was appeased. He nodded at his charioteer and commanded him to return with all speed to the fight. Urged on by Rāvaṇa, the charioteer lashed his horses and within a few moments the chariot stood again before Rāma.
On the battlefield, Rāma was Himself expressing His exhaustion from the fight. In the heavens the great Ṛṣi Agastya saw this and desired to assist Him. Agastya had been observing the battle from the sky along with the gods. He now descended to Rāma’s chariot and spoke to Him. “O mighty-armed Rāma, please listen as I tell You the secret of a highly confidential prayer, the Aditya-Hridaya. This prayer will invoke the powerful spiritual energy from the heart of the sun. This is the very effulgence of the Supreme Viṣṇu Himself. With this power one can overcome any obstacle and destroy to the roots all one’s enemies.”
Agastya instructed Rāma how to recite the prayer, which would summon the combined power of all the gods, emanating from the bodily rays of Viṣṇu. With that power Rāma would be able to quickly overcome Rāvaṇa before nightfall, when the demon’s own power would be doubled.
The ṛṣi returned to the heavens and Rāma turned toward the sun. After sipping water for purification He recited the Aditya-Hridaya. At once He felt extreme happiness, and His mind became highly enlivened. All His fatigue vanished and He took up His bow. He stood firmly on Indra’s chariot. Fixing His gaze upon Rāvaṇa, who had again appeared before Him, He urged Mātali forward toward the demon.
In the heavens the sun-god stood in person amid the other gods and uttered benedictions upon Rāma, saying, “May victory attend You!”
Rāma saw Rāvaṇa’s chariot flying toward him, filling all quarters with its thunderous rumbling. That chariot was drawn by huge black steeds with the heads of hideous fiends. It shone with a dreadful luster and was adorned all over with brilliant rubies and celestial sapphires, with rows of pennants flying from its sides. Moving rapidly through space it looked like a cloud containing streams of shining water and issuing forth torrents in the form of arrows.
Rāma said to Mātali, “From the way in which he is darting back into the fray it appears that this Rākṣasa is bent upon his own destruction. Close upon him with care. I shall destroy his chariot even as the wind would blow away a cloud.”
Grasping Indra’s bow, Rāma tempered His anger with patience as He awaited His opportunity to attack the demon, who was maneuvering on the battlefield. Mātali skillfully drove the chariot in circles and gradually closed on Rāvaṇa, the two opponents releasing streams of arrows and appearing like two proud lions intent on killing each other.
Suddenly many frightful omens appeared. Blood rained down on Rāvaṇa’s chariot while violent whirlwinds tossed it about. A flock of vultures circled over the demon. In the distance Lanka was shrouded in a red glow. Great meteors fell from the sky and the earth shook. The sky became darkened even while the sun shone. Terrible thunderbolts and flashes of lightning fell upon the Rākṣasa army. Rāvaṇa’s steeds shed hot tears and emitted sparks from their mouths.
Around Rāma were seen many favorable signs that portended His imminent victory. The sun illuminated Him brilliantly and a gentle breeze blew behind Him. He felt His right eye and arm throb and His mind felt joyful.
As Rāma and Rāvaṇa met in fearful combat, the two armies stood motionless with their weapons held fast in their hands. Observing the man and demon engaged in a desperate duel, all the warriors, along with the gods, Gandharvas and ṛṣis, watched in wonderment. The two belligerent opponents each exhibited their full prowess on the battlefield as they hurled blazing weapons at each other.
Rāma fitted a highly-sharpened shaft to his bow, as irresistible as a thunderbolt and shining with splendor. Drawing back his bow to a full circle, He released the arrow at Rāvaṇa’s standard. It severed the tall pole and the demon’s ensign fluttered to the ground.
Rāvaṇa burned with indignation. He sent a hail of flaming steel arrows at Rāma’s steeds. Struck by the arrows the celestial horses neither flinched nor shook but continued to draw the great chariot, describing various circles and movements and baffling Rāvaṇa’s arrows. The demon fired a tremendous shower of maces, iron clubs, discuses and mallets, as well as mountain peaks, trees, pikes and double-headed axes. At the same time he released tremendous volleys of arrows which fell toward Rāma’s chariot like streaks of golden lightning.
By Mātali’s expert handling, Indra’s chariot constantly foiled Rāvaṇa’s weapons. The Rākṣasa became more and more infuriated and he directed his mystic missiles upon the army of monkeys. Seeing this, Rāma fitted celestial weapons to His bow which sent innumerable arrows into the sky. Those arrows fell upon Rāvaṇa’s weapons and smashed them to pieces. No arrow shot by Rāma failed to find its mark. The sky was completely filled with his golden-plumed shafts. The missiles of the two fighters met together in hundreds and thousands. They created explosions of fire and billows of smoke across the whole battlefield.
Rāma and Rāvaṇa fought vehemently for hours without interruption. Exchanging blow for blow, neither felt wearied nor inclined to give an inch to the other. Those observing the fight felt their hairs standing on end. No one could take their eyes off the furious fighters as they battled on, relentlessly seeking victory. Rāvaṇa sent twenty, then sixty, then a hundred and then a thousand arrows at Rāma, aiming at His vital parts, or seeking to kill the charioteer and His horses. Rāma responded with twice that number, digging shafts into Rāvaṇa’s steeds and charioteer, while at the same time constantly covering the demon.
Even after fighting for half a day, neither seemed to have the upper hand. Rāvaṇa then composed himself and once again invoked the Rākṣasa-astra, imbuing it with all his mystic potency. Immediately the air was filled with a thick shower of every kind of weapon. The entire globe seemed to shake and the ocean became agitated. Serpents and devils appeared screaming in the sky and emitting fire from their mouths. The sun lost its brilliance and the wind ceased to blow.
In the heavens the gods themselves became fearful and cried out, “May all be well with the worlds.”
With full concentration, Rāma again invoked the Gandharva-astra, which caused hundreds of thousands of arrows to appear and counter Rāvaṇa’s weapons. Those awful and demoniac missiles fell to the ground and burned up, being pierced by Rāma’s fiery shafts.
The battle between Rāma and Rāvaṇa could only be compared to itself. Such a fight had never been seen at any time even by the gods. They watched anxiously as Rāma came under repeated ferocious attacks from the lord of the Rākṣasas. Rāma remained calm. He took from His bow a great razor-headed arrow that resembled a venomous serpent. In an instant He fitted and fired the arrow at Rāvaṇa. That arrow, imbued with mystic power, divided into ten and tore off the demon’s heads. But they immediately grew again. Rāma sent another weapon which again severed the Rākṣasa’s heads and again they grew back.
Rāma struck down one hundred heads, but the demon remained standing. Without slowing His attack for even a moment Rāma contemplated this wonderful phenomenon. How was this demon to be killed? No weapon seemed able to take his life. It looked like the fight might go on forever.
Vibhishana quickly approached Rāma. He told him that the demon had a boon from Brahmā that his heads and arms could never be destroyed. In Rāvaṇa’s heart was a store of celestial nectar which renewed the life in his body. The only way to kill him was to strike at his heart with a divine weapon that could dry up the nectar.
As Rāma considered his next move, all the while raining arrows upon Rāvaṇa, Mātali turned to Rāma and spoke. “O Rāma, the time for this one’s death has come. Recall now the prayer Agastya told You. Agastya also gave You an arrow when You were in the forest. Imbue that arrow with the force of the brahmāstra and kill the demon by piercing his heart.”
Accepting Mātali’s advice, Rāma remembered the celestial arrow which Agastya had given Him long ago in the forest. At once it appeared in His hand and He fitted it to His bow. Its shaft was made of ether and its weight consisted of the Mandara and Meru mountains. The wind-god presided over its shaft, the fire-god over its plumes, and the sun-god was installed at its point. It looked like the rod of universal destruction wielded by the Time-spirit himself. Rāma again chanted the Aditya-Hridaya prayer and then invoked the infallible brahmāstra.
As Rāma drew back the arrow, He shone so brilliantly that no one could look at Him. He released the weapon and it flew at Rāvaṇa, lighting up the earth and sky and roaring like a tumultuous ocean. It struck the demon on his chest even as he stood firing his own weapons at Rāma. Piercing right through his heart, the arrow emerged from Rāvaṇa’s body soaked in blood and entered the earth. Rāvaṇa whirled around and let out a cry which seemed to shake the entire creation. His bow dropped from his hands and he fell from his chariot like a mountain struck down by Indra’s thunderbolt.
The Rākṣasas fled panic-stricken in every direction. They shed tears of grief on seeing their lord slain. The monkeys leapt about, chasing the fleeing Rākṣasas and shouting with joy. The sound of drums and other celestial instruments sounded from the sky. Delightful breezes blew on the battlefield carrying heavenly odors. A dazzling shower of brilliant flowers fell from the sky and covered Rāma’s chariot. The gods and ṛṣis praised Rāma, who stood blazing with splendor. The battle was over. Rāma climbed down from the chariot and was surrounded by Lakṣman, Sugrīva, Hanumān, Aṅgada, Jambavan and Vibhishana, who all praised and cheered Him for His incredible feat.
As he gazed upon his brother’s dead body, Vibhishana then began to lament. “Alas, O Rāvaṇa, how have you been killed? After displaying your power for a long time you now lie motionless with your brilliant diadem thrown off. The very fate which I predicted has come to pass. Why did you not heed my counsel that was meant always for your good? Overcome by lust, greed and anger, you have met the sure result of harboring these three mortal enemies of the soul. O my brother, now that you have been slain everything seems void; the sun has fallen to earth, the moon has merged in darkness, fire does not emit flames and all energy has become bereft of effort. All of Lanka is lost.”
Although shunned by Rāvaṇa, Vibhishana had loved his brother and had always desired his welfare. He fell by his side and continued to cry out. Rāma approached him and placed an arm around him, consoling him with soft words. “Your brother has died a hero’s death. No hero has ever been known to be always victorious. Sooner or later a warrior will die at the edge of weapons. This is the end sought by all great fighters. O Vibhishana, there is no need to mourn for Rāvaṇa, for his death was glorious.”
Lakṣman also consoled the grief-stricken Vibhishana by telling him spiritual truths. Although Rāvaṇa’s body had fallen, his soul remained alive. Indeed, having been purified by Rāma’s weapons and by his death in battle, he would surely have attained an exalted destination. There was no gain in lamenting over a corpse once the soul has departed. Vibhishana should now perform the last rites for his brother and then assume the rulership of Lanka.
As Lakṣman finished speaking with Vibhishana, Rāvaṇa’s wives suddenly appeared on the battlefield. Crying like female elephants, they fell upon their husband’s body and bathed him with tears. Dozens of Rākṣasīs, their hair and garments in disarray, surrounded the fallen Rākṣasa. They rolled on the ground and wailed in agony. Rāvaṇa’s principal wife, Mandodari was at their head. She swooned upon seeing her husband dead on the battlefield. After regaining her senses, she gazed upon his face and lamented loudly, her voice choked with tears.
“Alas, my lord! How have you fallen at the hands of a man? You—who struck terror into the hearts of the gods, Gandharvas, Siddhas and even great ṛṣis—now lie killed by a mere mortal who came walking from Ayodhya, a city of humans. I do not consider Rāma to be an ordinary man. He must surely be Viṣṇu, the sustainer of all the worlds, the unborn, inconceivable and all-powerful Supreme Person. None other could have laid you low.
“O Rāvaṇa, although you conquered your senses, winning great boons from your austerities, in the end you have been conquered by those senses. Fallen prey to lust, you desired to enjoy the sinless Sītā. By stealing away that godly lady, the very emblem of chastity and nobility, you brought destruction upon yourself and all your kinsfolk.”
Mandodari could not contain her grief. She slumped over Rāvaṇa’s body and continued to wail in piteous tones.
“O hero, where have you gone now, leaving me forlorn? When I was always your devoted servant, why did you long for Sītā? Alas, my life is useless as I could not satisfy my lord. Although we roamed and sported together in every delightful region of heaven, I am now fallen into a fearful ocean of grief. Woe be to the fleeting fortune of kings.”
Mandodari looked up with tear-filled eyes and saw Rāvaṇa’s brother nearby. “Here stands the pious Vibhishana,” she cried. “Having ignored his wise advice, you now lie slain. Surely a sinner always reaps the results of sin in the end, just as the virtuous also receive their results. Your brother will now enjoy royal fortune while you are sent to the next world.”
Mandodari cried over her husband’s body for a long time. Everyone stood by silently, allowing her to vent her grief. Finally the Rākṣasa king’s other wives gently lifted her up. They supported her on both sides and led her away while she continued to wail.
Rāma spoke again to Vibhishana. “Death has ended all animosity. Rāvaṇa is now the same to Me as you. Please perform the proper rites for his everlasting spiritual good.” In accordance with time-honored custom, Rāma wanted to immediately perform the last rites for His fallen foe.
Vibhishana stood reflecting for some moments. He told Rāma that he felt unable to perform the funeral rites for his brother. Rāvaṇa was cruel, merciless and given to heinous sins. Although his brother, he was not worthy of Vibhishana’s respect. Rāvaṇa’s obsequies were an act of worship he could not honestly perform.
Rāma smiled. “O Vibhishana, no disdain should ever be felt for the soul. Once dead, a person’s soul leaves his body and proceeds to its next life. Rāvaṇa’s sinful body is now dead, but his pure soul continues to live. The soul is always worthy of respect. You should therefore carry out the rites for the eternal good of your brother’s immortal soul.”
Vibhishana looked down at Rāvaṇa’s body. It was a fact. The soul of all beings was a pure part of the Supreme Lord. Ignorance only exists in the external material body, not the soul. Rāvaṇa’s sins, which proceeded from his ignorance, had ended with the end of his body. Especially as he had been slain by the Lord himself. All taints of sin were surely cleansed by such a death.
Vibhishana at once began the necessary rituals. He had his brother’s body brought into Lanka and he lit a sacrificial fire, making offerings of grains and ghee and worshipping Viṣṇu on Rāvaṇa’s behalf. Along with the elderly Rākṣasas and Yatudhanas, headed by Rāvaṇa’s grandfather Malayavan, Vibhishana carried out all the rituals strictly in accord with the instructions of scripture.
Rāvaṇa’s body was placed on a huge bier. He was draped with golden silks and covered with flower garlands. To the sound of various musical instruments, the dead Rākṣasa was borne by a hundred demons to a consecrated spot. Brahmins among the Rākṣasas carried the sacrificial fire in front of Rāvaṇa. They built a pyre out of logs of fragrant sandal and padmaka wood along with ushira roots and bhadrakali grass.
The demons then placed Rāvaṇa upon the pyre and threw handfuls of parched rice, sesame seeds and kusha grass. After uttering sacred mantras and sprinkling the pyre with ghee, Vibhishana set it alight. It quickly blazed up, and within moments the Rākṣasas king’s body was reduced to ashes.
(Continued ...)
(My humble salutations to the lotus feet of Brahmasree Krishna Dharma and I am most grateful to Swamyjis, Philosophic Scholars and Ascetic Org. for the collection of this great and wornderful Epic of the world. )
Post a Comment