Ravana's First Defeat

"Now, what happened last night, Muttuppattar?"

"Ah, that, the story. Eventually Hanuman found Sita in the Ashoka grove and urged her to return with him to Rama, but Sita refused—'Although you are certainly the person to take me back, I will leave Lanka only after I see Rama kill Ravana'—and gave Hanuman a jewel to show to Rama on his return. As Hanuman left, he fought and killed many demons, including Ravana's youngest son, Aksakumaran. Hanuman was brought to Ravana, who interrogated his prisoner, and when he learned that Rama had killed Vali, he asked:

"Vali dead? What power did Rama use to kill him? And if Rama killed Vali, why does his son, Angada, help Rama search for Sita?"

[Hanuman ] "When Viii was dying, he called Angada and told him to serve Rama as a son. He has obeyed his father's wishes."

"Then you serve a coward, who does the bidding of the man who killed his father. He should take revenge, and if he can't himself, he should get someone who can. This is a disgrace for your entire monkey race!"

"But Ravana—"

"Wait! Didn't you tell me that your king is Sugriva, the one who killed his own brother by deceit? Then ... you are the messenger of a traitor [Sugriva] and a coward [Angada]. Not only that—you have killed my own son, yet I have spared your life because you say you come as a messenger. Speak your messenger words and leave!"

[Brahmin narrator ] "And that's where we stopped, right?"

"No, no. Eventually Hanuman's tail was wrapped in an oily cloth and set afire, but he broke loose, used his fiery tail to burn Lanka, doused it in the ocean, returned to Rama, and issued his famous announcement: 'Sita I have seen.' That's where we stopped."

"Yes, and before we sing tonight we have a duty to perform."

"As is true every year, Laksmi Amma has sponsored this performance and supplied us with excellent food cooked by Appa Nayar. For them and their families, for generations to come, we call on Bhagavati to bless them with good fortune."

"Now, as Rama readied his armies, Ravana called his ministers to a war council in Lanka, and Vibhisana was the first to speak."

"When your palace and your city were set ablaze
By the chastity of the Earth Goddess, Sita,
Do you think it noble, my brother,
To say 'A monkey burned them'?^[8]

"Ravana, do you actually believe that a monkey burned Lanka? This magnificent city of ours—its towers and sculpted palaces—has been burned to the ground not by that silly animal but by the fire of chastity, the chastity of Rama's wife, Sita. I think you know the reason for all this destruction. Remember when you won weapons from Brahma and were called the 'Raja whose crown bows to no one'? On your victory march, surrounded by a host of horses, elephants, and soldiers, you circled the Three Worlds and defeated Indra, the Eight Cosmic Elephants, the fifty-six rajas, and then a curse befell you. Have you forgotten?"

"Curse? No, I remember—"

"While you enjoyed undisputed sway over the Three Worlds, your brother Kubera sent a message: 'Ravana, have you lost sight of your ancestry? We are the sons of Brahma! Stop this cruelty toward Brahmins, ascetics, and women.' But you unsheathed your sword and split the messenger in two, and as his spirit rose to the skies, it hovered above and called out, 'Hey, Ten Heads! You may have studied the Sama Veda, but you don't know the proverb: "Kill your mother, but never kill a messenger."^[9] For this, I curse you, your lineage, and your city of Lanka to be destroyed by a messenger? But this only inflamed your arrogance, so you sped your chariot toward Lanka to kill Kubera, when you saw Vedavati, daughter of a sage, deep in meditation. Overcome with desire, you stopped the chariot, climbed down, and touched her. Suddenly, she cried out: 'For this destruction of my purity, I will take birth as another woman and destroy you and all you own.' With that, Vedavati leapt into a fire and was reduced to ashes.

"You, however, simply continued on your way to Lanka, traveling at high speed, until your chariot smashed into a tall mountain. Perturbed, you climbed down and saw Nandi, Siva's bull, who laughed at you: 'Ravana, this is Mr. Kailasa and no one passes without first bowing down to Siva.' To which you responded: 'Listen here, Monkey Face, out of my way!' Yet, as you passed overhead, Nandi had the last word: 'For that insult, Ravana, you will be destroyed by a real monkey-face!'

"Later, Narada passed the spot where Vedavati had entered fire, scooped up her ashes and bones, stored them in his vina and walked on. Reaching the gates of Lanka, he learned that you had a fondness for the sankarabarana raga from the Sama Veda, so he played it every day on his vina. One evening, after singing, he left his vina outside your chamber door, and in the morning a baby girl was found next to the instrument. You asked your ministers who she was and they replied: 'Dispose of her. If you keep her, Lanka will be destroyed; if you kill her, the Three Worlds will be destroyed.' Their advice you honored and placed the little girl in a golden box, which was put out to sea and reached Mithila, where the childless raja Janaka was sprinkling water on the ground as part of a sacrifice and saw a long tunnel made by ants. Following it, he found the golden box and the little girl inside. In the earth displaced by the ants, he saw the Sanskrit letters S-i-t-a, so that became her name. Her chastity, nor that monkey, burned our beloved Lanka, Ravana."

"But if that is true, Vibhisana, why did the city not burn when Sita first came here nearly a year ago?"

"Sita is the sun, Hanuman is the mirror. Together they destroy."

[Angered by Vibhisana's disloyalty, Ravana orders his brother to leave Lanka. Vibhisana joins Rama's forces and together they reach the ocean that separates them from Lanka. On the shoreline Rama summons Varuna, god of the seas, by chanting his special mantra. Eventually Varuna appears and, although Rama needs immediate help in building the causeway to Lanka, launches into a long discourse on the nature of god and truth, which concludes thus: ]

"Something else, Rama. This verse refers to you as curuti murtti, the Truth of the Vedas, but Saiva Siddhanta takes the position that even the Vedas cannot explain truth.^[10] You see, in one section of the Vedas you repeatedly hear 'No, no.' Negation is truth. But the

counterargument is that god can be known, that at the very edge of ignorance is knowledge. Travel to the edge, repeating 'Not this. Not that,' and then you can reach knowledge. Even the word the Vedas use for the truth—anmai [negation]—is important. It refers to something distant because it begins with a. If a word begins with i, it refers to something close; if with u, to something in between. It's more complex than this, but just take it that the Vedas use a distant word [aumai ] for truth because it is beyond words. And you, Rama, you are that unknowable.

"Swami, this world is your plaything! In every era you assume forms to please us and to defeat our enemies. Master of Mystery, you once humbled mighty King Mahabali when you took birth as a dwarf Brahmin and approached Mahabali as he conducted a sacrifice. He offered you a boon, you asked for only three feet of land, and when he agreed, you expanded into Visnu's cosmic form, covering the earth with the first step, the heavens with the second, and with the third you pushed Mahabali into the underworld. Long ago, a king was cursed by Agastya to become an elephant, which—"

"I know that story, Varuna."

"Good. The cursed elephant was unable to find water, wandered everywhere, and finally fell into a pool near the Three Peak Mountain in the middle of the Milk Ocean. The myths say a sage once bathed in this pool—I know people say these stories are only imagination, but I say they never deceive. They tell truths—one only has to know what is story and what is true. In any case, while the sage was bathing, a Gandharva named Huhu flew overhead and decided to have some fun, so he left his heavenly form and became an alligator in the pool. He caught the sage in his coils and began to squeeze with all his might until the sage cursed him: 'You want to be an alligator? Fine. You are one, forever!' Into that same pool the raja-turned-elephant fell and had his legs caught by the alligator, but he called out to Visnu, who immediately left Vaikunta, sailed down on Garuda, and cut off the alligator's claws with his sharp-edged discus. And so the elephant, Gajendra, was granted the third state of liberation [carupam ]."

"Yes, yes, Varuna, but it is I who have come to ask you for help. The whole world laughs at me because Ravana stole my wife and holds her in Lanka. I must free her, yet I can do nothing unless I

cross this water, and if you, the King of the Seas, don't help, who will?"

"Forgive me, Rama, I knew nothing of your plight. You must free Sita since you, too, rule the waters, and that is why the verse calls you Sacred River.^[11] You know the story, so I'll make it brief. When you went to Mahabali as the Brahmin dwarf and took your three steps, the egg-like shell of the earth split and the Heavenly Ganga threatened to drown us all. We shook with fear until Siva agreed to break the force of the river with his long, thick hair. He did, and the water dribbled out into a stream at a place we now call Kumbakonam, where you reside in a little temple on the river bank. For this we call you Sacred River."

"That's a wonderful story, but I need a path to Lanka."

"Crossing this vast ocean is no easy task, Rama."

"Then—?"

"Build a causeway of stone—no, then all the fish would die, and I cannot allow that. Listen. Rip up the mountains, throw them into the sea, and I will carry them all on my head to save the fish. My head will bear those stones until you and the monkey army cross over to Lanka."

[As the monkeys set to work, Indra appears high on the cloth screen and addresses the other gods: ] ^[12]

"Look at that monkey Kumutan carrying those huge mountains! Nine of them, toward the sea ..."

Kumutan threw a mountain into the sea
Whose spinning, roaring waters [tumi ]
Reached the heavens where the gods danced
Thinking the ambrosia would rise again.^[13]

"This verse carries several meanings. It's said that it is the very first verse Kampan wrote and that he wrote it to make a point. It also contains the story of how that point was demonstrated to the court poets. A long history lies behind this simple verse, but we can begin with what we all know—that the earth was ruled by the Chola, Pandiya, and Cera rajas. The Chola rajas ruled Tanjore, and in their palace lived sixty-four learned men: thirty-two poets and thirty-two scholars. At that time, a great man named Cataiyappan also lived in Tanjore and had the reputation of helping everyone who brought

him their troubles. Because he offered his support so liberally, he was given the title Great Benefactor.

"Generous Cataiyappan was also a close friend of the raja and often visited his court, where one day he said, 'Raja, you have sixty-four poets and scholars in your court, but we have no Rama story in the southern language, no Ramayana in Tamil. Valmiki's story is written in the northern language with all those meanings condensed into one line—who can understand it? If it were in Tamil, all of us would follow and enjoy the benefits that come from hearing that great story. Summon your best poets—Ottakkuttan and Kampan—and command them to compose a Ramayana in the southern tongue.' So the raja called the poets and made the request, and they agreed.

"From that day, Ottakkuttan began to write. He finished the Bala, Ayodhya, Aranya, and Sundara Kandas, until he came to the beginning of the Yuddha Kanda, when Rama, Laksmana, and the monkey army travel for twelve days and reach the edge of the salt ocean.^[14] When Ottakkuttan told the raja he had completed all this, Kampan was embarrassed. 'I've not yet written a single verse,' he thought to himself. 'But if I admit that, the name of Kampan, praised everywhere as a great poet, will become inferior to that Ottakkuttan. Certainly there are books that admonish us not to tell lies, but there are others that say we may lie. How do we know when to lie and when not to? Well, if we do lie, the most important thing is that it should not cause any trouble or evil. If you lie in order to accomplish a good deed, it's not wrong; in fact, it ceases to be a lie and becomes the truth. The old books say you may tell not just one of those lies, but two or three, a hundred, even hundreds of them, and all at the same time. There's a verse:

To get a woman married or set a spy spying
To produce good or teach the Three Essences
To save an innocent man from certain death—
To these ends, a hundred lies may be told.

"'This is what Hindu philosophy teaches us. In order to get a woman married and give her a good life, you might have to tell more than one lie. Certainly you can't get anyone married today without telling several lies, right? To do some good or avoid evil, lies are also useful. Likewise, if someone tries to kill an innocent man, you may tell lies to save him.' Kampan thought about all this and convinced himself that the lie he was about to tell wouldn't have any

evil consequences. Then he looked at the Chola raja and declared, 'I have composed the story up to the point where Rama comes to the ocean, is unable to cross, does meditation, threatens to fire an arrow at Varuna, and waits for him. Varuna finally appears, places a garland on Rama, worships him, asks forgiveness, and then tells him that he may cross to Lanka by throwing rocks into the ocean. The last verse I've written is this:

Kumutan threw a mountain into the sea
Whose spinning, roaring waters [tumi ]
Reached the heavens where the gods danced
Thinking the ambrosia would rise again.'^[15]

"When Kampan told the raja that he had written this verse, he lied, and Ottakkuttan knew it because he had seen Kampan wandering about, not writing a single verse. Ottakkuttan also knew that the verse was ungrammatical and, hoping to expose him, issued a challenge: 'Kampan, your verse may sound nice, but look at the line about the gods dancing when the water [tumi ] reached the heavens. Does that word tumi have any grammatical basis? Does anyone use it in common speech?'

"Kampan had to stop and think because at that time the word tumi was not commonly used. Quickly he retorted, 'Is that it? Even if it were grammatical, that's not enough? It must be used by the common people?' Ottakkuttan continued, 'No one uses that word; if it were correct, people would speak it, but they don't. And if they did, you could prove it.' To which Kampan shot back, 'I will prove it. I'll prove it tomorrow.'

"Without taking any food, Kampan went straight to the temple of Ampikai [Kali] and called to her, 'Goddess, you have blessed me to be a poet in the raja's court, and he has ordered us to compose a Tamil Ramayana, and I have told a lie about a verse. Now the other poets have challenged me to prove that a certain word is used in common speech. Of course, if you don't want to help, it's no loss to me.' With this plea, he fell into a half sleep. Soon Ampikai appeared and spoke. 'Kampan, why worry like this? Tomorrow morning, before the night has gone, bring all the poets to the Shepherds Lane and I will show them that the word is used.' She vanished and Kampan slept.

"Early next morning, after completing his bath, Kampan went quickly to the raja who greeted him, 'Well, Kampan, can you prove

to us that tumi is grammatical?' 'I can,' he replied, 'but we must hurry now before the night is gone.' With the raja, Cataiyappan, Ottakkuttan, and the other poets following him, Kampan set off for the Shepherds Lane, where they saw two lines of houses, one on each side. Going down the lane, they looked into every house, but not a single door was open or a single lamp burning, until, at the very end of the lane, they saw light, in a tiny hut, where a woman and four children sat around a milk churn. As the woman churned, she turned to the nearest child and said, 'Stand back, don't let the tumi fall on you; watch out for the tumi.'

"The raja and the poets were astounded! Why, among all these houses, they wondered, why did this single house have a lamp? And who was that woman? They ran forward to look, but when they reached the house, there was no woman, no children, no lamp, not even a house—only a dark open space. They stopped for a moment, and then cried out, 'This is the work of Ampikai; it can be nothing else. If Kampan has her powers, how can we debate with him? What goddess or god can we summon to prove our point?' Convinced of Kampan's skill, they returned to the palace.

"Only at this point did Kampan begin to compose his epic. With the aid of learned Tamil scholars and Sanskrit pundits, he composed seven hundred verses every day between sunrise and sunset; every evening, he took his manuscript to Ampikai's temple and placed it beside her as he worshiped. After his prayers, when he took up the manuscript, all his errors were corrected. This is how Kampan composed his Ramayana in 12,026 verses and six books.

"Ottakkuttan was despondent. Seeing that Kampan had outwitted him in front of the raja and the assembly of poets, he decided to destroy all that he had written. One by one, he tore each palm leaf, from the Birth Book through the War Book, and threw them into the River Kaveri. Then, just as he was starting to tear up his Uttara Kanda, Kampan grabbed his hand and spoke: 'You have suffered; you wrote this Ramayana with great effort and skill. Why destroy it? Look, let the first six books go; we can't retrieve them. But save at least this last, the Uttara Kanda. Let us join it to my six books and then we shall have a complete Tamil Ramayana.' Only a great poet would say that. Kampan was willing to join his verses, with their hidden meanings, to another poet's verses. His only desire was that the

world should have a full telling of the Rama story in Tamil. And that is what we have.^[16]

"Next Kampan had to sing his poem in a debut. For that occasion, great scholars of many languages gather in an assembly, and the poet reads his new poem, explaining each verse, breaking up the words if necessary. He must be able to explain the grammar and meaning of any line or word disputed by the scholars. If he does so successfully, then the assembly will accept the composition and declare it worthy of public recitation. Kampan was ready for his debut, but the raja asked him something else: 'Where's your carru kavi [verse praising the poet]?' Today we pronounce it "certif-icate," but it's the same thing: proof that the poet is worthy. 'Kampan,' the raja continued, 'we need to see your certificate. Go to Chidambaram, to the court of the Three Thousand [Brahmins], to those scholars and poets and win their approval; then we will arrange for your debut recitation.'

"Kampan took his manuscript and left for the town of Chidambaram. Of course there were no motor vehicles then, so he walked for six days and finally reached the outskirts where he went to the first house and announced, 'I've composed a Ramayana; where do I go to sing it?' 'Sing it? Oh, next door.' But this was the answer he received from every house he visited, and soon it grew dark and he was hungry. Finally he saw an Ampikai temple and he laid down his burden at her feet: 'I've finished the Ramayana, but now I have to earn a certificate in order to be able to sing it. Can you help?' Ampikai, who was in deep meditation, shouted at him, 'Kampan, if you complain like this, no one will give you any title. If you want to earn it, go to the Three Thousand in a single house and begin to sing. That's all; I'll do the rest.'

"'I don't understand.'

"'Listen, tomorrow morning, bring your poem and come this way. In a house a child will be dying of a snakebite; the Three Thousand will be there, too. Enter and announce that you have come to earn a certificate for composing a Ramayana. They'll rebuke you: "This is no time to sing a Ramayana! A child is dying. Go away? Then you say, "Oh, a child? Let me see, please." They'll refuse, but you must keep on asking and finally someone will say, "Let him take a look. What's the harm?" Go slowly to the child's bed, find a comfortable seat, and take out your manuscript. Find the Snake-Snare [naka

pacam ] section and sing the ten verses in praise of the gods; if you sing them well, the snake that bit the child will come back, draw out its own poison, crawl away, and then die.^[17] The sleeping child will awake and sit up, fully alive! When they see this, the Three Thousand will grant you a certificate.'

"With these instructions, Ampikai disappeared. Kampan did as he was told, the snake came back, the child was saved, and the Three Thousand put their signatures on the certificate. Kampan then walked the six days back to Tanjore and gave the certificate to the raja. 'Not bad, not bad. But one cannot say that the Chidambaram Three Thousand are the only judges of poetry. Ampikavati, your son, for instance, is also an excellent poet. Get his approval, too.'

"'I will do that, raja,' Kampan said, thinking: 'My own son can't possibly refuse me a certificate.' He approached his son.

"'Welcome, Father, what brings you here?'

"'Nothing special. In order to have my debut, the raja says I must get a certificate from you.'

"Kampan's son, who was quite young and playful, said, 'I'll give you a certificate, but first you must tell me something special about your Ramayana.'

"Kampan had to think for a moment before he responded, 'I've composed four very special verses, just to please you; four miracles.'

"'Tell me the four miracles, Father, and you'll have your certificate.'

"'First, there is the case of Kalaikottu Muni. When Dasaratha learned that he must bring that sage to perform the sacrifice for a son, Vasistha told him the long story about how Kalaikottu Muni brought rain and ended a famine. Enticed by dancing girls, he entered the Anga country and soon all the clouds drew close together making the sky as dark as Siva's throat. Suddenly, after years and years of drought, the rain fell, "sala, sala, sala." Watching this miracle, everyone began to dance with joy. Here the special thing is that the sounds "sala, sala, sala," which refer to the rain, are play words with their own rhythm. A second miracle occurred when Rama shot his fire-arrow into the Heavenly Ganga, causing Brahma's water pot to boil over.' Then Kampan described a third and fourth miracle and received from his son this certificate: 'The Rama-Veda, sung and

praised by the greatest poets, has now been written by Kampan: thus I, Ampikavati, do declare.'^[18]

"When Kampan ran back to the raja and showed him the certificate, another condition emerged: 'Good. Now there is one more thing. In Tanjore there is a famous courtesan, who is also a respected poet. Get her approval.' When Kampan found her, she did what he asked and said, 'You needn't have come yourself. If you had sent a messenger, I would have given you the certificate.' When the raja saw her certificate, he finally agreed to hold the debut.

"What year was that? There's a verse ...

In Venneynallur, where Cataiyan lived,
In Cakattam eight hundred and seven, on Pankuni asterism
Before Lord Visnu at Srirangam
Kampan first sang his Rama story.^[19]

"Yes, it was Saka 807 when Kampan first sang his poem. The word cakattam here means the Saka Era. There are various ways of counting years, and I don't recall when that era began—you can look it up in different books—but it's approximately one hundred years after the Christian era. So Saka 807 is about 900 A.D. , and the Kampara-mayanam has been sung from that date—for the past eleven hundred years.^[20] This famous verse also refers to Cataiyan, or Cataiyappan Mutaliyar, Kampan's patron, and to Venneynallur, the tiny village where Kampan lived, and to Pankuni, a favorable lunar aster-ism when Kampan first sang his epic before a statue of Narayana as the Primal Source at Srirangam temple. To that temple, which was then in the Chola country, the poets were invited by the raja and there they heard Kampan sing his Ramayana for the very first time, from the very first verse to the very last. This is the history of Kampan's Rama story. I didn't have to recount it all, but Kampan's explanation of the word tumi led me to it.

"Tumi came in that verse about the water. When the gods felt the water splash up from the ocean, they gurgled happily: 'Remember that day when we put Mt. Mandara in the Milk Ocean and churned up the ambrosia? That was only a single pot of ambrosia, and these monkeys have thrown thousands of boulders into the sea, so imagine how much ambrosia will arise!' With that thought, the gods danced in ecstasy and sang 'Let Ravana and his demons shake with fear when they hear of Rama's bridge.'"

[Drums rumble and the scene shifts as Rama and his army cross the causeway and step onto the shore at Lanka, where Rama commands Nalan to build a fort. When Ravana summons his ministers for another war council, his uncle,Maliyavan, speaks first : ]^[21]

"Ravana, you are wise. Give up the folly of fighting against this Rama-Visnu."

"Me? Even if Siva took the form of a monkey and fought me, he would never win. He may have swallowed the poison from the Milk Ocean long ago, but no one swallows my arrows. Uncle, you say this Rama is an avatar of Visnu, but his divine chest will split when my missiles strike, and his little brother Laksmana doesn't scare me either. You are cautious only because you are frightened. You may leave now, and let me fight."

[When Maliyavan leaves, Ravana's generals stand forward and speak :]

"We should attack now. Rama has only foot soldiers; no chariots, elephants, or horses."

[Meanwhile, Rama calls Vibhisana to his side :]

"You have described Lanka to me, but I want to see it with my own eyes. Can we see it from here?"

[Vibhisana leads Rama to the summit of Suvela mountain and points south toward Ravana's palace. At that very moment, when Ravana stood in his northern tower, dressed for battle, Rama sees him and cries out, "He is as strong as Mt. Meru!" Later, Ravana looks down on Rama's army of monkeys and insults them. Furious, Sugriva flies up to the tower, dashes Ravana to the ground, grabs his crown, and escapes! Sugriva moved so quickly that Rama did not realize he had left his side, but when the monkey-king returns and places Ravana's crown at his feet, Rama smiles :]

"You are truly great, Sugriva."

"Swami, I am not unusual. Jatayu gave his life for you. What of Vali, who was stronger than I? And, there is Hanuman."

"What is this you have brought back to me?"

"Ask Vibhisana."

"Rama! It's Ravana's crown—not even the Three Great Gods could do this!"

[Rama decides to attack and sends Sugriva to collect food stores for the long siege. The monkeys gather around each of the four towers, ready

for battle, but Ravana fails to engage them. They wait, but still no Ravana, so Rama summons Vibhisana :]

"What shall we do, Vibhisana? Ravana has failed to appear yet another day. Maybe he fears the seventy thousand troops surrounding his palace. I want to discuss a plan with you because you are a great vallal, a benefactor."

"I am ready to listen, Swami."

"You are called 'benefactor' in this verse for a reason. The word refers only to people with a big heart who give gladly, not just to earn a name. Of the three ranks of benefactors, you are a First-Rank Benefactor. Explaining the traits of each would consume much time, but in brief they are these. If someone comes and asks for something, you must be able to ascertain why he came and what he's thinking. He might have any number of reasons for asking. Impossible to know, you say? But it is possible. As the Vedas declare, 'Look closely at his face and you see inside his mind; whether anger, sincerity, or deceit, you can see its outer sign in the face.' A First-Rank Benefactor can do this, but a Second-Rank Benefactor gets rid of petitions by simply giving to everyone, even when it's not appropriate. Suppose a person comes and asks for something, you might think: 'If I say no, he'll just come back again; or maybe he won't even leave now.' To avoid that problem, the man gives whatever is requested. The Third-Rank Benefactor takes the opposite attitude: 'Let them ask for anything; I give nothing.'"

"Your words are kind, Rama, but please tell me why you have called me."

"I have called you because devotees of the gods are greater than the gods and because you have a heart as pure as a Make. But, yes, I called you to ask advice about strategy. We have the palace under siege—no demon can get in or out—but how can we force Ravana to appear?"

"What is your plan, Rama?"

How can one measure your compassion, Vibhisana? We might as well ask, How much water is in the sea? Your love is as unknowable as Siva because when one learns the truth of Siva, there is no 'Siva.' The word siva, as we know, denotes auspiciousness [maitkalalaw ]; however, if Siva appears like us, with hands and feet, and labors through this world, can we say who he is or where he is? No. Siva

is not that kind of 'thing.' As a great poet wrote, 'He is without clan, without quality [guna ], without limit; he has family, house, and wife, but he is not those things.'^[22] We speak of eyes, nose, mouth, and through them we have sensations, but Siva cannot be known by them because he is not them. He is formless."^[23]

"Rama—"

"Although this is what our Hindu philosophers have discovered, this is not what we practice. People make images out of clay, bronze, copper, gold, wood, out of anything! Sun god, Moon god—whatever image arises in their head, they make into a god. This is the long train of tradition, and it continues today: some worship a stone, some worship a wood statue, and so forth. If Siva is not those forms, and he is not, why do people worship them? Because their ancestors did, and now there are books that justify that kind of worship, yet none of the sastras encourages the worship of an image. No. Siva is not found in an image of stone.^[24]

"I say this to you, Vibhisana, because you have placed god in the temple of your heart and chant his names there. And I say this in order to demonstrate my respect for you. You see, most people would counsel me this way: 'Why wait to attack that thief Ravana? Go, kill him now?"

"But, Rama, he is a thief, a bandit."

"Listen. My idea is to send a messenger who will deliver two messages: first, 'You stole Sita from Pancavati; release her immediately.' If Ravana relents, it won't be necessary to say the second thing; but if he refuses to release Sita, then the messenger must say, 'Dress for war with Rama!' Ravana will then be forced to choose between the two alternatives. Now, what do you say?"

"Rama, your plan is consistent with the practice of your ancestors and with the dharma of warriors. I have no objection."

"Laksmana, now I want your opinion. Shall I send a messenger to Ravana to ask if he is willing to release Sita?"

"What? Show civility to that enemy of dharma? Have you forgotten that he has imprisoned your wife?"

"That is true. Ravana has done evil, including eating people as meat. Such a person does not deserve the courtesy of a messenger, you say. However, you must remember that Ravana was born a demon and

that compassion is something a demon never has. Their hearts are hard rocks, not only our Ravana's but the hearts of other demon-rulers, too. Besides, it's a demon's dharma to be cruel, and we cannot censure Ravana for his actions. A verse by the ancient poetess Auvaiyar explains: 'A lily according to water; knowledge according to the book; character according to birth.' Just as the nature of a flower depends on the water in which it grows, a person's mind is influenced by what he reads, and a person's character is shaped by his background. A man born in the Brahmin caste will not have the intelligence of a man born in the Sudra caste; only if a Sudra woman eats pure foods, like ghee and curds, and meditates on god, will her foetus absorb those qualifies. Similarly, a person born in a Brahmin family will become wicked if the mother is a demon.^[25]

"That's what happened with Ravana. His father was Vicaravasu, but his mother was Kekaci whose evil character has been Ravana's from birth. He has not violated dharma and, therefore, I cannot accept your opinion that sending a messenger is in any way a violation of our dharma. Tell me, Laksmana, what undesirable consequences will arise from this plan, and I will change my mind."

"What of your promise to Vibhisana? When he came and asked for refuge, you accepted him with these words: 'Fear nothing. I will make you king of Lanka for as long as the world chants "Rama, Rama."' Now, if Ravana accepts your offer and releases Sita, how will you give his crown to Vibhisana? Remember also that in the forest you pledged to the sages that you would destroy Ravana. In view of these facts, I advise against sending a messenger."

"Laksmana, you are both wise and kind. However, I have not forgotten my promises to Vibhisana. a and to the sages, and neither will be compromised by sending a messenger. In the end, Lanka will be destroyed—that is certain—and sending a messenger before attacking is required by the law books composed by the greatest sages. If we simply ignore their laws and invent our own, that would be a violation of dharma. Laksmana, a wise man gauges the strength and intelligence of his enemy before battle. He calculates not only his personal qualities but those of his assistants also. Who are his brothers? His generals? And so on. If, on balance, the enemy is stronger, then he should not go to war—death will be the end. I might be a powerful man, but I must also practice patience; only then will my full strength be realized. Strength without patience is a burden, not an asset.

"Most importantly, victory depends on dharma. Any step away from dharma is a retreat from victory. There's the saying: 'Without dharma, even the gods cannot gain victory.' But what is dharma? It includes four things, four instruments of statecraft: conciliation, confrontation, generosity, and punishment. What is conciliation? If a person is brought to you for a first offense, sometimes you must say, 'Don't do it again.' This person may think he can get away with the same crime again, and why not?—the raja let him off once. If he is caught and brought before you again, you must censure him. Use confrontation—the second instrument of dharma—to change his mind, but still not punishment. Then, if the same man is brought before you a third time, you must say, 'You're free. Go away.' This is generosity, a gift. Only when the man returns for the fourth time should you punish him. If this advice is wise, how can we attack Ravana without first sending a messenger to sue for peace? "

Understand also that Ravana will never release Sita. If such were his character, he would not have abducted her in the first instance. Even if one of you rescued Sita and returned her to me, Ravana would not ask for forgiveness. If, somehow, he did, I would honor my pledge to Vibhisana and crown him king of Lanka, after which I would escort Ravana to Ayodhya and conduct his coronation there."

"Rama, I agree that this plan is consistent with your promise to Vibhisana, but the promise to the sages in the forest remains, does it not?"

"Yes, and it will stand forever. I promised the sages that I would protect their sacrifices. If Ravana releases Sita and bows at my feet and I make him king of Ayodhya, then he will not harm the sages. So, you see, Laksmana, my pledge to the sages also will not be compromised. Now, tell me again, do you retain an objection to sending a messenger?"

"No, you have convinced me."

[Laksmana is removed; Sugriva takes his place .]

"Sugriva, whom shall we send?"

"Once before when we required a messenger, we sent that black-faced Hanuman. Again if you send him, you will not err."

"True. Hanuman has been to Lanka and knows the city well; he would be successful in this mission. However, if Hanuman goes a second time, what will Ravana conclude? That he is the only true

warrior among our seventy thousand troops, and we cannot let Ravana think that he can win by defeating only me and Hanuman. No, we must frighten him by sending another warrior, and, Sugriva, there is none better than your own adopted son, Angada! Even if the demons attack, he has the strength to escape and return here unhurt. What do you say?"

"Your reasoning is correct. Call Angada."

[After receiving instruction from Rama, Angada leaps into Ravana's palace chanting Rama's name, which angers Ravana and prompts an argument between the monkey emissary and the demon-king. Angada, insulted that Ravana has not offered him a proper seat, coils his tail into a tall throne and sits upon it; Ravana speaks :]^[26]

"Who are you, monkey?"

"I am the messenger of Rama, whose armies are camped outside your gates and—"

"Forget about him. What is your name?"^[27]

"I am Vali's son, Angada."

"Vali's son? Son of my enemy's enemy? Why, you're almost family. No need to oppose me. Here, I'll give you a kingdom, many wives—"

"A kingdom received from you is a disgrace I will never suffer! I have already been promised a kingdom by Rama."

[At this, Ravana drew his sword and nearly cut him down, but his ministers held him back, pleading that Angada be allowed to speak. When Angada delivered Rama's message, Ravana ordered his guards to seize the impudent monkey, but Angada leapt high into Lanka's northern tower and called out, "Demons! You are doomed to die. Escape now before Rama's armies annihilate you." Then Angada leapt again, and landed at Rama's feet.

[The First Battle was imminent, for Rama, having heard what had happened, ordered his captains to advance. His armies formed outside the palace, the gates opened, and the demon armies moved against them. In the fierce fighting that ensued, Laksmana fell unconscious on the field, and Rama, riding Hanuman, came to his rescue. Eventually, when Rama and Ravana faced each other, Ravana fell and lost his crown. Not wishing to kill an opponent who had fallen, Rama declared, "Enough for today. Go home and return tomorrow'" As Ra-

vana dragged himself back to the palace, the gods, who had assembled above to witness the spectacle of war, spoke among themselves :]

Mighty chest that conquered Cosmic Elephants,
Shouldes that shook Kailasa, tongue that outsang Narada
Ten jeweled crowns, sword from Siva, and his bravery—
All these Ravana left on the battlefield and returned erupt-handed.^[28]

"Gods, look at what has happened on each."

"Yes, Maharaja Indra. Who is that down there?"

"It's Ravana, defeated in battle. After dismissing Angada, he dressed for bathe, thinking 'I'll never be defeated.' But he has been defeated, and that is remarkable."

"Why?"

"Long ago, Ravana sat on the shore of Kuntalam in fierce penance to Brahma and won invincibility in the Three Worlds. On his victory march, when he challenged the gods stationed at each of the eight directions, they all changed their forms and fled. Indra changed to a peacock, Varuna became a swan, Kubera a lizard, Yama a rook. Then, as if that were not enough, he battled with the Cosmic Elephants of the eight directions. Joining together, the elephants charged and planted their thirty-two tusks in Ravana's chest, but the Raja of Lanka felt nothing, unsheathed his sword, and cut them off, one by one. And today that mighty chest has been defeated by Rama!"

"How did it happen, Indra?"

"When Rama and Ns monkey armies attacked, Hanuman jumped ahead, scattered the demons, and advanced on Ravana. Ravana pounded Hanuman with his twenty fists, but Hanuman stood his ground; then he struck Ravana with his two fists and knocked him down.

"But Ravana lost more than a fist-duel. When Brahma gave him boons, Ravana received the power to defeat his brother, Kubera, and seize his kingdom of Lanka. Seated on the throne of that island, Ravana proceeded to harass Brahmins and sages, which caused Kubera to dispatch a messenger to censure his brother and warn him to follow the path of dharma. But Ravana, furious that Ns broker should seek to instruct him, took out his sword and killed the messenger. Then Ravana flew in his magic chariot to challenge Kubera and suddenly rammed into Mt. Kailasa, where Nandi commanded Ravana to

go around the mountain, but the demon responded by calling him a monkey-face, to which Nandi responded with a curse: 'You and your kingdom are doomed to be destroyed by a monkey-face?

"Ravana roared in anger, got down from the chariot, made his twenty hands into one, and ripped up the entire mountain. On top, Siva felt something shake, looked down, placed his big toe upon Ravana's head, and pinned him to the ground. Kailasa rocked back into place, driving the demon into the underworld. When the demon-raja did not return to Lanka, his lieutenants set out to search for him, and when they found their king trapped beneath Kailasa, they went to Siva and asked how he might be freed. Siva said that the Raja of Lanka should challenge him to a musical contest, so Ravana cut off one of his twenty hands and made of it a vina; his sinews became strings, and he began to sing from the Sama Veda. He sang and he sang, some say for a thousand years, until Siva was moved to release him, announcing, 'Because you are a raga-vannan [song-master], I name you Ravanan.' Ravana then asked for a boon of immortality, and Siva granted him three and one-half million lives, and a special sword. When the gods learned of these gifts, they were frightened because they realized that they would face Ravana's evil forever. To Narayana they pleaded, 'Siva has given all these lives to Ravana. Do something!'

"Visnu agreed and took the form of a Brahmin, placed a bush on his head, watered it with a cracked pot, and stood on the path where Ravana was returning from Siva. Amazed at the sight, Ravana cried out, 'Foolish Brahmin! What's that plant growing from your head? And why do you water it with a cracked pot?' Visnu [the Brahmin] replied: 'It's not me but you, Ravana, who are the fool! Who else would ask for three and a half million lives? One million, or two, or three, but three and a half? That's truly stupid.'"

"Puzzled, Ravana asked the Brahmin what he could do. 'Go back to Siva,' he was told, 'and say this: "Besides the three and a half million lives, give me another half."' Ravana thought he would get a half million more, but the word 'besides' (oliya ) also means 'cancel.' Thus, when Ravana went back to Siva, he said, 'Cancel the three and one-half million lives, and give me one-half.' And Siva did just that. He gave him half a life. And it is this Ravana, whose enormous shoulders once rocked Kailasa, who has now been defeated on the battlefield."^[29]

"Tell me exactly how those shoulders were defeated."

"Well, when they fought, Ravana hurt Laksmana badly; struck by the demon's spear, he fell to the ground, unconscious. Ravana came to his side and tried to lift him with his twenty arms but could not! The same shoulders that had once lifted Kailasa could not lift Laksmana's body!"

"What else?"

"I said that Ravana became famous for singing a tune from the Sama Veda, that he surpassed even Narada in singing that tune, but his tongue, too, was useless, defeated. What do I mean? Toward the end of this first battle, after Rama had destroyed Ravana's chariot, Rama spoke to him of dharma, but Ravana did not answer. He could not answer. He who had once outsung Narada had lost the power of speech!"

"Is that all he lost?"

"No. He had ten crowns, each made of precious jewels, but Rama knocked all ten to the ground! Even the sword given him by Siva was taken from his hand. The mighty demon-raja returned to his palace without his crowns, without his weapons, without his chariot, and without hope."

"When he retreated, how did Ravana feel?"

"Sad, very sad.

Like the moon swallowed by Rahu, like a frog swallowed by a snake,
Ravana writhed in pain, defeated by Rama's arrows;
Like crops withered by a cruel sun, like a deserted, penniless debtor,
The Raja of Lanka had lost all hope.

"The moon in this verse is the poisoned moon that Rahu swallows once a year causing an eclipse. But think how the moon feels—that's how Ravana felt. Like a frog caught halfway inside a snake, he couldn't move or say a word. His defeat by Rama also made him hopeless, like a man debt-ridden forever."

"I see, Indra. You mean that Ravana suffered like a debtor to Rama. Had he borrowed money from him?"

"Well ... he had taken Sita from him. If he had given her back, his debt would have been cleared, but he kept her in the Ashoka grove, and he suffered for it."

"What happened when he entered the palace?"

"His head hung so low that Ravana saw only the earth. Normally Ravana looked at the door guards, but that day he did not. Nor did he look at any part of the palace or at his children, lined up to welcome their father as they did whenever he returned victorious from battle. He didn't even look at the faces of the women who greeted him. Looking neither right nor left, he saw only the woman we call 'earth,' Bhumi. Devi. With his ten heads hanging down and his twenty eyes trailing along the floor, he entered his chambers."

"Why was Bhumi Devi the only woman he looked at?"

"Sita was born of the earth, so she is a sister of Bhumi Devi, and Ravana now realized that by stealing Sita he had brought the disgrace of defeat upon himself. Ashamed, he could not face his wives."

"But tell me exactly how Rama defeated Ravana."

"Ravana possessed extraordinary strength! He had defeated the once invincible gods, subdued the Three Worlds, and earned the title 'the raja whose crown bows to no one.' Nevertheless, with his hands hanging low, he entered the palace just as the sun set—"

"Did you say 'as the sun set'? Is there any special significance to that?"

"First realize that this twenty-armed Ravana was defeated by the two arms of Rama."

"The right and left arms of Sri Rama, right?"

"We'll get to his arms in a minute. You asked something about the setting sun?"^[30]

"Nothing really. Some might say that the setting sun was a symbol of Ravana's life. It's going down, I mean."

"No! No! Absolutely not! Understand that the demons have a habit: they fight only at night because you can't defeat them in the darkness. The point of this verse is that the initial battle took place during the day and not at night, and that's why Ravana lost. To say that Ravana's entering the palace when the sun set symbolizes the end of his life is sheer nonsense; it indicates the time of day and nothing more. Rama's hands are a different matter, and there's a verse about them: listen to what the left hand asked the right hand:^[31]

'O, right hand holding our vallal 's bow,
     do you fear to fight this Ravana?
Having fed us all these years,
     do you now draw back in fear?'

'No. I only whispered in Rama's ear:
     "Those ten dancing heads,
Shall we cut them off all at once—
     or sever them one by one?"'

"The important word here is the first: vallal or 'benefactor,' a generous person. Because Visnu offered Rama as his avatar, the poet has used this word in this spot, but what the verse actually describes is a conversation between Rama's two hands in the heat of battle. When the right hand drew back on the bowstring, the left hand was shocked: 'You've cared for us from childhood and kept us from hunger, yet, now, when we face this demon in battle, you are scared?' To this the right hand responded, 'You needn't think that. When I drew back, it was no retreat; I went close to Rama's ear because I wanted to ask a question, in secret: "How should we cut off this big oaf's heads?"' This is the meaning of this verse."

"I see, Indra. Is there any special rule about how to hold a bow?"

"Rule? The left holds the bow and the right draws the string. That's all. No one holds the bow in his right hand and draws with his left."

"I thought so. Now I think we should stop talking and look down to see what is going on in Ravana's palace."

[Indra and the gods leave. After his defeat, Ravana again summons his uncle, Maliyavan .]

"Greetings, Ravana. But what is this? What's happened?"

"Uncle, come closer, up to the throne."

"You are kind and, though it is not right for me to assume the status of a king, I will sit with you because you wish it so. Besides, you are like a son to me and can do nothing wrong. Yesterday you were angry and sent me away from the Council of Ministers, but it pains me to see you like this—your once mighty shoulders sag with despair! Could you, whose very name scatters kings in fear, could you have lost a battle? What am I saying? That's impossible since you are fearless even before the gods. Still your twenty shoulders always rode erect like mountains, but now ...

"Ravana, once you dug a fire pit by the Ganga, sat on a tiger skin, raised a fire high into the sky, and worshiped Brahma for thousands of years. Each of your ten heads and twenty arms was blessed in that roaring fire, while Brahma granted you spiritual wisdom. Ravana! Who can match your achievements? You are a raja, a warrior, a mas-

ter of mantras. Why are you so shaken? Did some enemy violate a rule of conduct on the battlefield? What has happened? Tell me."

"That's why I have called you—to tell you what happened yesterday. It's true. I have been defeated on the field of battle. Ordinarily, I wouldn't care if the whole world learned about my defeat, but sometimes, like the present, circumstances are different."

"Tell me."

"You see ...

Twenty eyes blazing with fire,
Ten noses flaring like roaring hot bellows,
Tongues too dry to taste sweet ambrosia,
I speak with a heavy heart.

"I entered the field thinking that I would defeat Rama, Laksmana, Hanuman, and their monkey armies, but now my heart, which races in anticipation whenever I join battle, is weighed down by despair. Look at my eyes! Once they shone like burning fires, but now they are so faded I can hardly see. And my noses—look at them breathing hard and fast."

"Ravana, an ancient text—'The Breathing Sastra '—tells us that a healthy person breathes 360 times every twenty-four minutes.^[32] One-third of those breaths, however, is unwanted air; it is simply exhaled and then used by grasses, bushes, and things like that. The remaining two-thirds of the inhalations is used by our body. Now, if we need 360 breaths every twenty-four minutes, a healthy person will take in 21,600 breaths each day, of which he uses about 14,400 and exhales the other 7,200. This kind of evenly balanced breathing makes us strong and protects us from illness.^[33] But our rate of breathing changes with our activities: when we work, it tends to increase, and when we sleep, we need less and should not breathe heavily. Waking hours require those 360 breaths every twenty-four minutes, but in sleep only 120 are necessary. So this is the problem: if you breathe too fast, you'll also exhale too much—like a rutting elephant or a panting horse—which decreases your life span."

"That's just it, uncle! Look at my breathing! It's out of control, and that's not all. I couldn't taste the purest of pure sugar, even if it were put on my tongue. You know that sweet syrup boiled down from sugarcane juice, that white stuff so thick that you can't chew it or drink it—you have to lick it—even that I couldn't taste now because my tongue is as dry as a dead man's tongue."

"Ravana, what happened?"

"As I said, ordinarily I wouldn't care if the whole world knew about it, but ... you see, I have been disgraced in the eyes of Sita. Uncle, it might be true that my arms are hard as diamonds and that I have conquered the kings on earth and the gods in heaven. Let them all laugh at my defeat; I do not care. Why should I? I have humiliated them already. No, it is not for them that I am overcome with shame. It's for that one with the long, fish eyes, that red-mouthed Janaki."

"The epithet 'fish-eyed' is noteworthy.^[34] There are many things to which eyes may be compared—there's even a book that lists them: a flame, a lotus, a lily, a poem, the ocean, ambrosia, and much more. But you can't use just any comparison; each has its proper place, its context. Knowing that makes a great poet. In this case, the phrase 'fish-eyed' implies a carp [kentai ] because a carp's body is soft and pleasing like an eye. The fish-eyed one is known by many names: some call her Janaki because she is the daughter of king Janaka; others call her Mithili because her family is from Mithila; and many know her by the name Sita, or 'furrow,' because her father discovered her while ploughing the fields. The Tamil word for 'furrow' is pataiccal , but in this instance we follow the northern language and call her Sita."

"Yes, her. It is Sita's laugh that I fear. If she hears this news, she will consider me weak and unworthy of her love. That's why I am buried in grief."

"Ravana, what disgrace is there in defeat? You fought fairly on the field. Of course, I did warn you that your horoscope held no victory, but you ignored me and listened instead to the shouting of your armies. Now you say that only Sita worries you, but what is she to you? Look, you are a great warrior! What is all this needless fear about?"

"If Sita finds out, I would be disgraced—that's what. I thought I couldn't lose. I had elephants and horses, while Rama had only monkeys—but what a horde of monkeys they were! From nowhere, Hanuman leapt up and challenged me to a duel without weapons. I made a huge fist and pounded his chest; he was stunned, but regained his balance. Then I bared my chest and Hanuman struck a blow I cannot describe; it reached the stubs of those thirty-two elephant tusks cut off in my chest, and I fell down. Even now I feel the pain.

"We had other enemies, too. The gods who had gathered to watch chanted mantras for Rama and conducted sacrifices for his victory. Our soldiers fought, but they fell in heaps, losing their heads, arms, and legs on the field. With vultures picking at their bodies, suddenly I was all alone, facing Rama; then the vultures, clutching bloody flesh in their beaks, flew off in a such a mass that for a moment the sun was blacked out! Suddenly my crown was drenched in blood and flesh from those vultures flying overhead, while the gods showered Rama with a crown of flowers. The humiliation was unspeakable! Not only for me but for the entire demon race descended from Brahma and Pulastiyan. The world knows that Rama attacked us because I stole Sita, and now I look tike a fool. I can't believe it—the greatest raja in the Three Worlds beaten by two men and a bunch of monkeys!"

"It all proves one thing, Ravana: no matter how strong one is, an alliance with others is indispensable for victory—not just any support, though, for it must also be timely. Like the husk that protects the grain: the husk may seem useless, but for a time it is essential. From your account of the battle, I'd say the error lay in your decision to face the enemy by yourself."

"I did have support, uncle. Mountainous armies of spear-carrying demons, a full two hundred divisions, advanced against Rama. But they are no more; after Rama's arrows flew, not one head remained on a horse, an elephant, or a soldier."

"Two hundred divisions annihilated by one man is highly unusual. And they all lost their heads? There's something strange here. It's not just a matter of strength, because you've got that. Is it Rama and his arrows?"

"Yes. Everyone said, 'Don't worry. Rama is a mortal man? Well, he may be human, but his arrows are not."

"Tell me more about his arrows. Why could nothing stand against them?"

"Well [laughs ], when the head is cut off, what can one do? And it's not just Rama; there's his brother Laksmana, too.

Even if Siva, wearing the waxing moon,
     and all the gods in these Three Worlds
Stood firm with my armies,
We would not defeat Laksmana, brother of Rama,
Whose mighty bow showers arrows upon us.^[35]

"This first line about the waxing moon alludes to a story. Siva is usually called Moon Crown but Kampan uses the words 'waxing moon' to remind us of the tale of Daksa Raja and his sixty daughters. Many daughters married, but twenty-seven remained with him until one day he asked the moon to marry them, and the moon agreed. However, as the moon was leading his wives away, Daksa warned him: 'Treat them all equally; if you show preference for one, I will punish you.' When they arrived in his country, the moon was fair to them all, but there's destiny, ulvinai , which no man can control, not even ascetics or Brahmins. No one. As it turned out, the moon loved one wife deeply, and the other twenty-six complained to their father, who cursed the moon: 'Your strength will now decrease, and the sun's will increase.'

"From that day forward, the rays of the moon grew weaker and weaker, and the sun grew hotter and hotter. Finally, as the moon was about to fade out completely, people on earth sought relief from Narayana, who went to the moon and said: 'Quick, before you have no power, go and ask Siva for refuge.' To Siva he went and was comforted by these words: 'I cannot change Daksa's curse, but I will give you the strength to regain your sixteen phases each time you lose them.' And that is the origin of the waxing and waning moons each month. But—and this is the point—even if that powerful Siva and all the other gods joined me and stood against Laksmana, we would meet defeat."

"What about Rama?"

"Rama? He needs nothing more than the arrows he holds in one hand. His arrows have yogic powers and they follow you everywhere—into the netherworlds or up into the heavens. Even the cosmic fires that destroy the world would be burned by his arrows, which obliterate everything, including any mouth that questions their powers and any mind that disregards their purpose."

"But, Ravana, you are a great warrior—"

"Listen, Uncle. When Rama releases his arrows ... I ... I don't know how to describe them ... he shoots so fast, such a flash, they blind even the gods. Straining my twenty eyes, I can't tell if he's lifting his bow, fitting an arrow, or shooting one! When he does shoot, the whole world becomes one enormous arrow. It's hopeless. He is no ordinary man. You know the power of Siva's trident? Indra's

thunderbolt? Visnu's discus? Well, none have the strength of Rama's little finger!"

"Tell me more, Ravana."

"I've already mentioned Laksmana, Rama's brother. Once, after battling with the gods, I considered red-eyed Visnu the most powerful force in the Three Worlds. Then I met Arjuna and realized that he was the strongest, but now, after facing Laksmana, I know that he is invincible. He's a yogi, a great yogi. How can I describe him? Only that the power of Visnu and Arjuna are mere specks of dust on Laksmana's feet."

"And Rama?"

"The power of Rama's arrows is beyond the power of my speech. He shoots not one or two, but ten, even hundreds, all at once, producing them like the creator god Brahma. They are guided by Visnu and never miss their mark; and when they strike, they destroy like Lord Siva. But these are simply words and cannot measure the power of Rama's arrows. There is nothing more to say."

"Are you saying that Rama is equal to the Three Gods?—to Brahma's creative power, Visnu's protective power, and Siva's destructive power? Is that right? Your similes are fine, but, Ravana, why are you chanting the name Rama, Rama with every sentence? Even when you call me Mama [uncle], it sounds like 'Rama'! Why sing a song to that mortal? Tell me that."

"I'm still in shock from the battle. I see Rama everywhere. Isn't that him, over there? No, I can't see straight. Did he advance from the west? Or the east? First I saw him on earth, then above in the sky—soon north became south, and left right. I look at you, and I see Rama coming to attack again! It's this fear, as if the battle rages on, that makes me slip and say 'Rama' instead of 'Mama.'"

"Don't shake so, Ravana. Probably some unfavorable constellation has caused your confusion, some inauspicious, unavoidable arrangement of the planets. No shame in that—just bad luck. But what about your great chariot? Didn't that give you an advantage?"

"At the beginning, yes. When I set out for battle in my flower-chariot, I felt confident because Rama had no conveyance at all. As he fought, however, I realized that he was riding on something. But what was it? It was so powerful for a moment, I thought it might be

that great eagle, Garuda. He moved so quickly, it might be Vayu. So invincible, it might be Agni. Raining down death everywhere, it might even be Yama. But when he came closer, I saw it was that monkey who raided Lanka! Rama was riding on Hanuman—that's why he was everywhere at once.

"Mama, my end has come. I am able to defeat Indra, the mountain god, and Siva bearing his axe, and Brahma on his lotus throne, but this new enemy, this Rama, he will kill me and Lanka will be no more. What shall I do, Mama? Can I escape and save Lanka, too?"

"So, this is what happened. You lost a battle to Rama."

"Oh, if that was all, I would not have called you. I cannot fight him again. The very name Rama terrifies me."

"Why consult me? Ask your ministers, your generals."

"I did consult them before—and look at the result!"

"Defeats do happen; don't let it discourage you."

"I need your advice, Mama."

"Listen, Ravana, this is all your own doing."

"Look, I will make you Chief Minister; your word will rule Lanka."

"Hmmm ... Chief Minister?"

"Yes. Even I will follow your advice; your every word will be my command."

"But I fear to give you advice. I know what to say, but I don't dare."

"No confidence? Don't worry; that will come in time."

"Ravana, when have you ever heeded a warning?"

"All I want is a little support, some advice."

"You asked for advice once before, from Marica when you planned to steal Sita, and—"

"And what?"

"And what did Marica say? He said: 'Don't do it; stealing Sita will bring dishonor and destruction.' And what did you do?"

"Well ... I got annoyed."

"Annoyed? You drew your sword and threatened his life!"

"But—"

"Did you or didn't you?"

"I did."

"Then you went straight ahead, brought back that woman to Lanka, and that's exactly where we are now."

"Then what can I do? Is there no way to save Lanka?"

"Release Sita."