8. AHALYA :

After a day's stay in the City of Visala,
Viswamitra and his party left for Mithila.
On the way, not far from Mithila, they
saw a beautiful ashrama which seemed
untenanted. Rama asked Viswamitra:
"Whose is this ashrama with ancient
trees? Why does such a beautiful abode
stand deserted?"

Viswamitra replied:
"This ashrama is subject to a curse.
Sage Gautama lived here with his wife
Ahalya, spending his days in peace and
holy meditation. One day during the sage's
absence from the ashrama, Indra, filled
with unholy desire for the beautiful
Ahalya, entered it disguised as Gautama
and approached the lady with urgent
solicitation. She was not deceived by the
impersonation, but vain of her beauty and
proud that it had won her the love of the
lord of the celestials, she lost her
judgment and yielded to his desire. When
the sin had been sinned, realising its
heinousness and the fierce spiritual energy
of her betrayed husband, she warned Indra
of his terrible peril and begged him to be
gone in the instant. Indra was fleeing in
guilty panic; but unfortunately for him he
almost bumped into the rishi who was just
returning from his ablutions, clad in wet
garments and radiating spiritual lustre.
Pretence was hopeless before that allseeing
wisdom and Indra bowed in abject
supplication, and threw himself on the
mercy of the rishi. The sage looked at him
with wrath and loathing and cursed him:
'Lustful beast as you are, dead to all truth
and righteousness, may your manhood fall
away from you.' Indra at once became an
eunuch and went back to the Devas in
ignominious shame. Then the sage turned
to his erring wife and prescribed a long
penance for her. He said: 'Living on air,
you shall stay here, unseen by anyone.
After a long time, Dasaratha's son will
pass this way. When he sets foot in this
ashrama, you will be freed from the curse.
Welcome him as a guest. You will then
recover your lost virtue and get back your
own beauty.' The sage then left his
violated ashrama for Himalayas to engage
himself in austerities there."

Viswamitra said to Rama: "Let us enter
the ashrama. You will bring redemption to
Ahalya and rekindle the light in her as the
sage promised."

And they went into the ashrama. As
Rama set foot in the ashrama, the curse
was lifted and Ahalya stood before them
in all her beauty. Having lain concealed
behind leaves and creepers and kept her
vow for many years, she now shone, says
the poet, in Rama's presence, like the
moon emerging from the clouds, like a
flame issuing from smoke and like the
sun's reflection in rippling water.

Rama and Lakshmana touched the feet
of the sage's wife made pure by penance.
She welcomed the divine princes with all
the customary rites of hospitality. A
shower of flowers descended from the
heavens as Ahalya, cleansed of sin, shone
like a goddess. Simultaneously the sage
Gautama returned to the ashrama and
received his repentant and purified wife
back to his affection.

That is Ahalya's story as told by
Valmiki. There are in other Puranas and
popular stories slightly varying versions,
but the differences need not trouble us.

Now, a word to those of our times who
read Ramayana and Bharata and other
Puranas. In these works, there are frequent
references to Devas and Rakshasas. The
latter were wicked, had no regard for
dharma, and reveled in evil deeds. Asuras
were also like Rakshasas. But even among
Rakshasas there were a few wise and
virtuous people. There spring up bad men
even in the best of races and vice versa.
On the whole, Asuras and Rakshasas were
those who rejoiced in doing wicked deeds.
It is a pity that some people in their
ignorance identify the Asuras and
Rakshasas with ancient Indian tribes and
races, a view not supported by any literary
work or tradition or recorded history.

The conjecture of foreigners that the
Rakshasas were the Dravidian race, is not
borne out by any authority in Tamil or
other literature. The Tamil people are not
descendants of the Asuras or Rakshasas.

The Devas were generally upholders of
dharma and took on themselves the task of
putting down the Rakshasas. According to
the Puranas, they had at times to deviate
from dharma in dealing with the
Rakshasas, some of whom had attained
great power through tapas.

The Devas were generally good; and
those among them who swerved from the
path of righteousness paid the price for it.
There was no separate code of conduct for
the Devas; the law of Karma admits of no
distinction between the Devas and others.
The law dealt with the Devas as with
others.

Wedded to virtue as the Devas
generally were, lapses on their part appear
big to us, like stains on white cloth. The
Rakshasas' evil deeds are taken for
granted and do not attract much attention,
like stains on black cloth.

The honest, when they happen to go
astray, should evoke our sympathy. It is
however the way of the world, but it is not
right, to condemn in strong terms casual
lapses of the virtuous, while tolerating
habitual wrong-doers.

It should be noted that in the Puranas
we see the gods getting entangled in
dilemmas of Dharma. Indra and other
Devas are shown often as committing
serious sins.

Why did the sages who told the
Puranas involve themselves in such
difficulties? Their aim was to awaken
people to a sense of the dangers of
adharma. Else, the sages need not have
deliberately attributed sinful acts to their
own heroes and created difficulties for
themselves.

Some persons take pleasure in jumping
to wrong conclusions from the incidents
in the Puranas. They argue: "Ravana was
a very good king. Valmiki has falsely
accused him of wicked deeds." They ask:
"Did not Rama act unjustly on a certain
occasion? Did not Sita utter a lie?" and the
like. Valmiki could well have omitted
incidents which are not edifying. Both
Rama and Ravana were first presented to
us by the poet Valmiki.

There was no earlier work referring to
Ravana that can be quoted to contradict
Valmiki and stamp him as being partial to
Rama, Sita and the Devas, and twisting
facts to deceive people. Valmiki's
Ramayana is the fountain source of the
story of Rama; in it, one comes across
seemingly wrong deeds.

Calm consideration of such situations
would show that they are just portrayals of
similar difficulties in our day-to-day life.
It is for us to benefit from the moral trials
contained in them. The lesson of the
Ahalya episode is that, however deadly
one's sin, one may hope to be freed from
its consequence by penitence and
punishment. Instead of condemning others
for their sins, we should look within our
own hearts and try to purify them of every
evil thought. The best of us have need for
eternal vigilance, if we would escape sin.
This is the moral of Ahalya's error.