Sita: An Illustrated Retelling of the Ramayana Read online

  The story of Ram rejecting the touch of the trees and the sages but promising to do so when he returns as Krishna is also part of folklore.

  It is said that Shakti, much against Shiva’s wishes, took the form of Sita and met Ram in order to calm him down. But she did not fool Ram. He recognized her as the Goddess. He bowed to her. This story is part of the Tulja Bhavani legend in Maharashtra. Tulsidas also narrates this story. In his version, the failure of Shakti to recognize Ram’s divinity and her desire to test him leads to her immolating herself as Sati.

  Stories that speak of Ram returning as Krishna in his next life connect the two avatars. This is a recurring motif in the later retellings of Ram’s story. It reinforces the image of Ram as the one who has only one wife who is also his beloved, as opposed to Krishna who has many wives and lovers.

  Stomach Kabandha

  Hanuman then told Sita how he discovered Ram’s great skill as a warrior.

  Armed with the information given by Jatayu, Ram moved straight south, looking neither this way nor that, not eating, not drinking, not sleeping, determined to find his Sita. Lakshman followed him. Ram was indifferent to the roars of hungry lions and the thunderous feet of wild elephant herds and the thick forest covers that refused to let even a sliver of sunlight reach the ground. He just kept walking.

  Further south, the path was blocked by a demon called Kabandha. All the vanaras knew about this terrible beast. It had no head: the head had merged with its stomach; it had two long arms with which it grabbed prey. Its hunger was insatiable and all vanaras kept away from its reach.

  Ram and Lakshman suddenly found themselves in its grasp: Ram in one hand and Lakshman in the other. Kabandha’s nails were long and sharp, and covered with the blood and entrails of earlier prey, but the two brothers did not show any fear. They simply raised their swords and sliced off its arms in a single swoop, Ram the right arm and Lakshman the left, and made good their escape.

  To their surprise, and Hanuman’s, the monster thanked the brothers profusely instead of cursing them. ‘Without arms to put food into my mouth, I am finally able to shift my attention from finding food to understanding my hunger, at least in the moments before I die. Thank you. I am Vishwavasu, a gandharva. I was always hungry, for food, for wine, for music, for entertainment, for the company of women. I was too busy indulging my appetite to reflect on my hunger. Worse, I mocked tapasvis who tried to understand and outgrow hunger. One of the rishis I made fun of cursed me that since the head was wasted on me, I would turn into a monster whose stomach was his head, who did nothing all day but eat. One day, a man would come and make it possible for me to think. You have done that, by cutting off my arms, by compelling me to stop eating and reflect on my hunger. I am grateful to you for that. I realize how useless my life has been. Let me make my life worthwhile. Let me help you. Tell me how.’

  Ram said, ‘We are looking for my wife Sita who has been abducted by the rakshasa-king Ravana. Do you know where he could have taken her?’

  ‘He must have taken her to the city of Lanka, located far to the south. No one has seen this city; it is too far south. But there are rumours that it is splendid, made of gold. You may need the help of the monkeys known as vanaras who live in Kishkindha around Mount Rishyamukha near Lake Pampa. These vanaras are great scouts. They know the whole world well and can find anything you want, for they scour the earth foraging for food.’ After speaking these words, Kabandha died.

  Hanuman then watched Ram and Lakshman cremate Kabandha. ‘They cremate even their enemies. My husband says everyone must be given the option to be reborn,’ said Sita to Hanuman.

  From the flames arose a celestial being. It was Vishwavasu as he should have been. Ram saw Indra invite the gandharva to his paradise, Amravati, where all hungers are satisfied. But instead of going east where Indra resided, Vishwavasu chose to go north to Mount Kailas, where Shiva teaches all creatures how to outgrow hunger.

  Hearing this, Sita asked Hanuman, ‘Did my Ram eat after that? Or drink?’

  Hanuman replied, ‘No. He immediately set out for Kishkindha, refusing to eat or drink.’

  ‘What about Lakshman?’

  ‘He just followed his brother.’

  In the Valmiki Ramayana, Lakshman encounters another rakshasa woman called Ayomukhi who tries to seduce him and like Surpanakha gets her nose chopped off.

  Like Viradha, Kabandha is also a rakshasa as the result of a curse. Contact with Ram transforms him, liberates him. And so the story can be seen as one of mind expansion, outgrowing the instinct to feed and focus on hunger alone.

  Because of Kaikeyi, Ram, Lakshman and Sita are exposed to the primal fear related to survival, the end of social certainty and being enveloped by wilderness. In Tantra, this is represented by the Muladhara chakra or the base node located at the anus (the first thing a deer does when scared is clear its bowels and bladder to lighten itself and prepare for the chase and the tiger does the same to mark its territory). Then they are exposed to Viradha and Surpanakha and Ayomukhi who embody sexual desires marked by the Swadishtana chakra or the genital node. Kabandha embodies hunger marked by the Manipura chakra or the stomach node. With Ravana comes the emotional need to control and dominate marked by the Anahata or heart chakra. With Hanuman comes communication, the Vishuddha chakra located at the throat node, which leads to Vibhishana and the rise of insight and conscience, indicated by the Agna or forehead chakra. All this leads to the flowering of the final crown node, the Saharshapadma chakra, of wisdom.

  Ram’s meeting Kabandha is key to the Ramayana plot as he points the way to the kingdom of monkeys, which transforms the narrative dramatically.

  The Berries of Shabari

  Hanuman then told Sita how he discovered Ram’s sensitivity and compassion.

  Ram walked for days and nights, weeping occasionally on thinking about Sita’s condition, his body covered with sweat and grime, his unwashed face covered with unkempt hair, his eyes bloodshot.

  Lakshman followed his brother silently, feeling guilty at times and ashamed at others. He knew his brother would not tolerate a pitying look or a comforting hug. He just followed him deeper and deeper into the forest, over rocks and streams that no rishi from the north had as yet crossed.

  ‘I get the feeling we are being watched,’ said Lakshman, looking above at the trees, noticing a bee.

  ‘Don’t get distracted. Let’s just keep walking. We need to find the vanaras.’

  Then a woman cried out, ‘Stop!’ Ram stopped. The woman was a resident of the forest, wearing animal skin, feathers and strings of rocks and beads.

  ‘Sit!’ she said. Ram sat. ‘You look hungry,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you need to eat. I have berries with me. You can eat them.’ Ram looked at the berries in the hand of the strange tribal woman and waited to be served.

  The woman bit into a berry and then gave it to Ram. Ram ate it; it was sweet and succulent. She bit into another berry and threw that berry away. She then bit into the third berry and gave it to Lakshman.

  Lakshman recoiled in disgust. ‘How dare you feed me a fruit that you have bitten into? I am no servant to eat such soiled food. I am Lakshman, prince of Ayodhya, and this is Ram, its king. Don’t you have any manners?’

  The woman was surprised by Lakshman’s outburst. She apologized profusely but Ram comforted her and spoke sternly to his brother: ‘Clearly, what I saw is not what you saw. We are two men walking in the forest carrying weapons. We make a fearsome sight yet this woman comes to us. She is surely a brave woman. She stops us for our sake, to feed us; she is under no obligation to do so. She is clearly a caring, generous woman. And she bites into the berries to ensure they are sweet enough. She is a good host. This is what I saw, but what did you see? A woman without manners, manners you learned at the palace. Look at her, Lakshman, she is a forest woman, what does she know of palaces and its manners, its princes and its kings? You judge her by your standards. You don’t even look at her. You have eyes, but you are blind.’