Rama
was the most powerful of mortals; there were no giants or demons or anybody
else strong enough to conquer him. So, the giant king had to resort to
subterfuge. He got hold of another giant who was a magician and changed him
into a beautiful golden deer; and the deer went prancing round about the place
where Rama lived, until Sita was fascinated by its beauty and asked Rama to go
and capture the deer for her. Rama went into the forest to catch the deer,
leaving his brother in charge of Sita. Then Lakshmana laid a circle of fire
round the cottage, and he said to Sita, "Today I see something may befall
you; and, therefore, I tell you not to go outside of this magic circle. Some
danger may befall you if you do." In the meanwhile, Rama had pierced the
magic deer with his arrow, and immediately the deer, changed into the form of a
man, died.
Immediately,
at the cottage was heard the voice of Rama, crying, "Oh, Lakshmana, come
to my help!" and Sita said, ''Lakshmana, go at once into the forest to
help Rama! ""That is not Rama's voice," protested Lakshmana. But
at the entreaties of Sita, Lakshmana had to go in search of Rama. As soon as he
went away, the giant king, who had taken the form of a mendicant monk, stood at
the gate and asked for alms. "Wait awhile," said Sita, "until my
husband comes back and I will give you plentiful alms." "I cannot
wait, good lady," said he, "I am very hungry, give me anything you
have." At this, Sita, who had a few fruits in the cottage, brought them
out. But the mendicant monk after many persuasions prevailed upon her to bring
the alms to him, assuring her that she need have no fear as he was a holy
person. So Sita came out of the magic circle, and immediately the seeming monk
assumed his giant body, and grasping Sita in his arms he called his magic
chariot, and putting her therein, he fled with the weeping Sita. Poor Sita! She
was utterly helpless, nobody, was there to come to her aid. As the giant was
carrying her away, she took off a few of the ornaments from her arms and at
intervals dropped them to the grounds.
She
was taken by Râvana to his kingdom, Lanka, the island of Ceylon. He made peals
to her to become his queen, and tempted her in many ways to accede to his
request. But Sita who was chastity itself, would not even speak to the giant; and
he to punish her, made her live under a tree, day and night, until she should
consent to be his wife.
When
Rama and Lakshmana returned to the cottage and found that Sita was not there,
their grief knew no bounds. They could not imagine what had become of her. The
two brothers went on, seeking, seeking everywhere for Sita, but could find no
trace of her. After long searching, they came across a group of "monkeys",
and in the midst of them was Hanumân, the "divine monkey". Hanuman,
the best of the monkeys, became the most faithful servant of Rama and helped
him in rescuing Sita, as we shall see later on. His devotion to Rama was so
great that he is still worshipped by the Hindus as the ideal of a true servant
of the Lord. You see, by the "monkeys" and "demons" are
meant the aborigines of South India.
So,
Rama, at last, fell in with these monkeys. They told him that they had seen flying
through the sky a chariot, in which was seated a demon who was carrying away a
most beautiful lady, and that she was weeping bitterly, and as the chariot
passed over their heads she dropped one of her ornaments to attract their
attention. Then they showed Rama the ornament. Lakshmana took up the ornament,
and said, "I do not know whose ornament this is." Rama took it from him
and recognised it at once, saying, "Yes, it is Sita's." Lakshmana
could not recognise the ornament, because in India the wife of the elder
brother was held in so much reverence that he had never looked upon the arms
and the neck of Sita. So you see, as it was a necklace, he did not know whose
it was. There is in this episode a touch of the old Indian custom. Then, the
monkeys told Rama who this demon king was and where he lived, and then they all
went to seek for him.
Now, the monkey-king Vâli and his
younger brother Sugriva were then fighting amongst themselves for the kingdom.
The younger brother was helped by Rama, and he regained the kingdom from Vali,
who had driven him away; and he, in return, promised to help Rama. They
searched the country all round, butcould not find Sita. At last Hanuman leaped
by one bound from the coast of India to the island of Ceylon, and there went
looking all over Lanka for Sita, but nowhere could he find her.You see, this
giant king had conquered the gods, the men, in fact the whole world; and he had
collected all the beautiful women and made them his concubines. So, Hanuman
thought to himself, "Sita cannot be with them in the palace. She would
rather die than be in such a place." So Hanuman went to seek for her
elsewhere. At last, he found Sita under a tree, pale and thin, like the new
moon that lies low in the horizon. Now Hanuman took the form of a little monkey
and settled on the tree, and there he witnessed how giantesses sent by Ravana
came and tried to frighten Sita into submission, but she would not even listen
to the name of the giant king. Then, Hanuman came nearer to Sita and told her
how he became the messenger of Rama, who had sent him to find out where Sita
was; and Hanuman showed to Sita the signet ring which Rama had given as a token
for establishing his identity. He also informed her that as soon as Rama would
know her whereabouts, he would come with an army and conquer the giant and
recover her. However, he suggested to Sita that if she wished it, he would take
her on his shoulders and could with one leap clear the ocean and get back to
Rama.
But Sita could not bear the idea,
as she was chastity itself, and could not touch the body of any man except her
husband. So, Sita remained where she was. But she gave him a jewel from her
hair to carry to Rama; and with that Hanuman returned. Learning everything
about Sita from Hanuman, Rama collected an army, and with it marched towards
the southernmost point of India. There Rama's monkeys built a huge bridge,
called Setu-Bandha, connecting India with Ceylon. In very low water even now it
is possible to cross from India to Ceylon over the sand-banks there.
Now Rama was God incarnate,
otherwise, how could he have done all these things? He was an Incarnation of
God, according to the Hindus. They in India believe him to be the seventh
Incarnation of God.The monkeys removed whole hills, placed them in the sea and
covered them with stones and trees, thus making a huge embankment. A little
squirrel, so it is said, was there rolling himself in the sand and running
backwards and forwards on to the bridge and shaking himself. Thus in his small
way he was working for the bridge of Rama by putting in sand. The monkeys
laughed, for they were bringing whole mountains, whole forests, huge loads of
sand for the bridge so they laughed at the little squirrel rolling in the sand
and then shaking himself. But Rama saw it and remarked: "Blessed be the
little squirrel; he is doing his work to the best of his ability, and he is
therefore quite as great as the greatest of you." Then he gently stroked
the squirrel on the back, and the marks of Rama's fingers, running lengthways,
are seen on the squirrel's back to this day.
Now, when the bridge was finished,
the whole army of monkeys, led by Rama and his brother entered Ceylon. For
several months afterwards tremendous war and bloodshed followed. At last, this
demon king, Ravana, was conquered and killed; and his capital, with all the
palaces and everything, which were entirely of solid gold, was taken. In
far-away villages in the interior of India, when I tell them that I have been
in Ceylon, the simple folk say, "There, as our books tell, the houses are
built of gold." So, all these golden cities fell into the hands of Rama,
who gave them over to Vibhishana, the younger brother of Ravana, and seated him
on the throne in the place of his brother, as a return for the valuable services
rendered by him to Rama during the war.
Then Rama with Sita and his
followers left Lanka. But there ran a murmur among the followers. "The
test! The test!" they cried, "Sita has not given the test that she
was perfectly pure in Ravana's household.'' "Pure! she is chastity itself"
exclaimed Rama. "Never mind! We want the test," persisted the people.
Subsequently, a huge sacrificial
fire was made ready, into which Sita had to plunge herself. Rama was in agony,
thinking that Sita was lost; but in a moment, the God of fire himself appeared
with a throne upon his head, and upon the throne was Sita. Then, there was
universal rejoicing, and everybody was satisfied.
Early during the period of exile,
Bharata, the younger brother had come and informed Rama, of the death of the
old king and vehemently insisted on his occupying the throne. During Rama's
exile Bharata would on no account ascend the throne and out of respect placed a
pair of Rama's wooden shoes on it as a substitute for his brother. Then Rama
returned to his capital, and by the common consent of his people he became the
king of Ayodhya.
After Rama regained his kingdom, he
took the necessary vows which in olden times the king had to take for the
benefit of his people. The king was the slave of his people, and had to bow to
public opinion, as we shall see later on. Rama passed a few years in happiness
with Sita, when the people again began to murmur that Sita had been stolen by a
demon and carried across the ocean.
They were not satisfied with the
former test and clamoured for another test, otherwise she must be banished. In
order to satisfy the demands of the people, Sita was banished, and left to live
in the forest, where was the hermitage of the sage and poet Valmiki. The sage found
poor Sita weeping and forlorn, and hearing her sad story, sheltered her in his
Âshrama. Sita was expecting soon to become a mother, and she gave birth to twin
boys. The poet never told the children who they were. He brought them up
together in the Brahmachârin life. He then composed the poem known as Ramayana,
set it to music, and dramatised it.
The drama, in India, was a very
holy thing. Drama and music are themselves held to be religion. Any song —
whether it be a love-song or otherwise — if one's whole soul is in that song,
one attains salvation, one has nothing else to do. They say it leads to the
same goal as meditation.So, Valmiki dramatised "The Life of Rama",
and taught Rama's two children how to recite and sing it.
There came a time when Rama was
going to perform a huge sacrifice, or Yajna, such as the old kings used to
celebrate. But no ceremony in India can be performed by a married man without
his wife: he must have the wife with him, the Sahadharmini, the
"co-religionist" — that is the expression for a wife. The Hindu
householder has to perform hundreds of ceremonies, but not one can be duly
performed according to the Shâstras, if he has not a wife to complement it with
her part in it.
Now Rama's wife was not with him
then, as she had been banished. So, the people asked him to marry again. But at
this request Rama for the first time in his life stood against the people. He
said, "This cannot be. My life is Sita's." So, as a substitute, a
golden statue of Sita was made, in order that the; ceremony could be
accomplished. They arranged even a dramatic entertainment, to enhance the
religious feeling in this great festival. Valmiki, the great sage-poet, came
with his pupils, Lava and Kusha, the unknown sons of Rama. A stage had been
erected and everything was ready for the performance. Rama and his brothers
attended with all his nobles and his people — a vast audience. Under the
direction of Valmiki, the life of Rama was sung by Lava and Kusha, who fascinated
the whole assembly by their charming voice and appearance. Poor Rama was nearly
maddened, and when in the drama, the scene of Sita's exile came about, he did
not know what to do. Then the sage said to him, "Do not be grieved, for I
will show you Sita." Then Sita was brought upon the stage and Rama
delighted to see his wife. All of a sudden, the old murmur arose: "The test!
The test!" Poor Sita was so terribly overcome by the repeated cruel slight
on her reputation that it was more than she could bear. She appealed to the
gods to testify to her innocence, when the Earth opened and Sita exclaimed,
"Here is the test", and vanished into the bosom of the Earth. The
people were taken aback at this tragic end. And Rama was overwhelmed with
grief.
A few days after Sita's
disappearance, a messenger came to Rama from the gods, who intimated to him
that his mission on earth was finished and he was to return to heaven. These
tidings brought to him the recognition of his own real Self. He plunged into
the waters of Sarayu, the mighty river that laved his capital, and joined Sita
in the other world.
This is the great, ancient epic of
India. Rama and Sita are the ideals of the Indian nation. All children, especially
girls, worship Sita. The height of a woman's ambition is to be like Sita, the
pure, the devoted, the all-suffering! When you study these characters, you can
at once find out how different is the ideal in India from that of the West. For
the race, Sita stands as the ideal of suffering. The West says, "Do! Show
your power by doing." India says, "Show your power by
suffering." The West has solved the problem of how much a man can have:
India has solved the problem of how little a man can have. The two extremes,
you see. Sita is typical of India — the idealised India. The question is not
whether she ever lived, whether the story is history or not, we know that the
ideal is there. There is no other Paurânika story that has so permeated the
whole nation, so entered into its very life, and has so tingled in every drop
of blood of the race, as this ideal of Sita. Sita is the name in India for
everything that is good, pure and holy — everything that in woman we call womanly.
If a priest has to bless a woman he says, "Be Sita!" If he blesses a child,
he says "Be Sita!" They are all children of Sita, and are struggling
to be Sita, the patient, the all-suffering, the ever-faithful, the ever-pure
wife. Through all this suffering she experiences, there is not one harsh word
against Rama. She takes it as her own duty, and performs her own part in it.
Think of the terrible injustice of her being exiled to the forest! But Sita
knows no bitterness.
That is, again, the Indian ideal.
Says the ancient Buddha, "When a man hurts you, and you turn back to hurt
him, that would not cure the first injury; it would only create in the world
one more wickedness." Sita was a true Indian by nature; she never returned
injury. Who knows which is the truer ideal? The apparent power and strength, as
held in the West, or the fortitude in
suffering, of the East? The West says, "We minimise evil by conquering
it." India says, "We destroy evil by suffering, until evil is nothing
to us, it becomes positive enjoyment."
Well, both are great ideals. Who
knows which will survive in the long run? Who knows which attitude will really
most benefit humanity? Who knows which will disarm and conquer animality? Will
it be suffering, or doing?
In the meantime, let us not try to
destroy each other's ideals. We are both intent upon the same work, which is
the annihilation of evil. You take up your method; let us take up our method.
Let us not destroy the ideal. I do not say to the West, "Take up our
method." Certainly not. The goal is the same, but the methods can never be
the same. And so, after hearing about the ideals of India, I hope that you will
say in the same breath to India, "We know, the goal, the ideal, is all
right for us both. You follow your own ideal. You follow your method in your
own way, and Godspeed to you!" My message in life is to ask the East and
West not to quarrel over different ideals, but to show them that the goal is
the same in both cases, however opposite it may appear. As we wend our way
through this mazy vale of life, let us bid each other Godspeed.
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