15. BEHOLD A WONDER!

POOR Dasaratha was in extreme
agony, pulled by natural affection on one
side and by the moral obligation to fulfil a
pledge on the other. He had fondly hoped
that Kaikeyi would relent and that
somehow the conflict of duties would be
resolved. But now he saw that this was not
to be.



He had still one faint hope: "Rama is in
no way bound by my promises and
pledges. Strong as he is in people's love
and in his peerless prowess, he may
disregard my promise, and stand on his
own rights. But I cannot conceive his
doing so, for my slightest wish has always
been sacred to him. Yet, if by some
chance he did so, it would save the
situation."



In the confusion and anguish of his
heart, the old King consoled himself with
such false hopes, forgetting that Rama
would never think of disregarding his
father's promise and that filial obedience
was a fundamental rule of his life.



But the false hopes did not persist long.
He felt that his death was near. In this
agonising conflict of duties, death would
be a relief, and save him from the
disruption and sorrows to come.



As death drew near, his mind recalled
past events. He remembered a great sin
committed by him in youth. He felt that he
was now reaping what he then sowed: "I
killed the Rishi's son and brought grief to
his aged parents. How could this sin be
wiped off except by my suffering the
anguish of losing a dear son?" Thus
Dasaratha resigned himself to his fate as a
just retribution for the wrong he had once
done.



He concluded that be had no alternative
but to fulfil his word to his cruel wife and
left the ordering of things entirely to
Kaikeyi.



Day dawned. The hour fixed for the
coronation was approaching. The
procession of Vasishtha and his disciples
carrying the golden vessels containing the
waters of holy rivers was coming towards
the palace.



The great street was decorated and was
crowded with eager men and women.
They rejoiced to see Vasishtha and his
disciples march to the palace with the holy
waters, and the paraphernalia of
installation. As they saw the honey, curds,
clarified butter, fried rice, sacred grass,
flowers, maidens, elephants, horses and
chariots, the white umbrella, the bull, the
horse and the tiger-skin seat moving to the
accompaniment of music from many
instruments, the people made loud and
jubilant acclamations which filled the air.



Vasishtha, approaching the palace gate,
saw Sumantra and said to him: "Pray, go
in at once and inform the King that the
people are waiting and all preparations are
complete."



Sumantra approached the King's bedchamber
and chanting the morning hymn,
conveyed Vasishtha's message. "Oh
King," he said, "arise from slumber to the
hymn of your charioteer as the king of the
gods does to Matali's waking songs. May
all the gods be gracious unto you. The
elders, generals, and chief citizens are
waiting for your darshan. The goddess of
night has withdrawn. The day's work
awaits your ordering. Oh King of kings,
be pleased to rise. Holy Vasishtha and his
men are waiting."



At that moment the King was
speechless with agony, but Kaikeyi boldly
answered for him and told Sumantra: "The
King spent the night talking of Rama's
coronation and had no sleep. So now he is
in a slumber. Go at once and bring Rama."



Thus the clever woman sent Sumantra
to fetch Rama to convey the King's
command. She knew that Dasaratha had
agreed but had not the strength to do what
had to be done. Hence Kaikeyi resolved
that she would herself do what needed to
be done.



Sumantra went to Rama's palace. Sita
and Rama were getting ready for
coronation. Then Sumantra gave to Rama
the message that the King and Queen
Kaikeyi wanted his presence. Rama
hastened to obey.



The unexpected delay and these
strange goings and comings roused
doubts, but no one dared to talk of them.
The men concerned hoped that somehow
things would turn out right and went on
with their allotted work.



The streets were brightly decorated; the
great hour was approaching as in the
Queen's chamber strange and sinister
events were developing.



"Why this long delay?" the people
wondered. "Perhaps the preliminary rites
are more elaborate than we had thought."
The crowds in the streets grew bigger
and bigger and more impatient.



Sumantra accompanied Rama to
Kaikeyi's palace, treading the way with
difficulty through the throng. Rama
entered the Queen's apartment. As he
stepped over the threshold, he started as if
he had set his foot upon a snake, for he
saw with awe-struck amazement his father
lying on the bare floor in anguish. The
King evidently had been struck down with
some great sorrow. His face was like a
parijata blossom wilted in the sun.
He touched his father's feet and paid
the same filial worship to Kaikeyi.



Dasaratha uttered in a low voice the
name of Rama and stopped. He could
speak no more. He could not look straight
into the face of Rama.



Rama was perplexed and filled with
apprehension at the sight of his father,
lying there unable to speak, in the grip of
some great agony. What it could be Rama
could not even guess.



He turned to Kaikeyi and said:
"Mother, this is indeed strange. No matter
how angry he was, my father would speak
sweetly to me. Have I without knowing it
offended him in any matter? Has some
sudden sickness struck him down? Has
someone spoken rudely to him? Do tell
me what has happened. I can bear this
suspense no longer."



Bold Kaikeyi seized the chance and
said: "The King is angry with no one.
There is nothing wrong with his health.
But there is something in his mind which
he is afraid to tell you. That is all. He is
afraid to say it to you, lest you should feel
hurt. That is why he is silent. Once upon a
time, pleased with me he offered, and I
accepted, the gift to two boons. Now, like
an uncultured person, the King regrets he
did so. Is this worthy of him? Is it not
unbecoming of a King to pledge his word
and then regret it? You have the power to
fulfil his promise, but he fears even to tell
you of it and is thinking of violating it.



Would it be right? If you assure him that
he need not be anxious about your attitude
and that he should keep his word at all
costs, you will give him the needed
strength to behave righteously. You must
give him the help he needs. The thing is in
your hands. I shall tell you what it is, but
after you promise me that you will help
the King to fulfil his pledge."



Rama, saddened at the thought that he
should in any way be the occasion of
distress to his father, said to Kaikeyi:
"Mother, am I indeed the cause of all this
trouble? I do not deserve that you should
have any doubts about me. If my father
asks me to jump into the fire, I shall not
hesitate to do it. If he asks me to drink
poison, I shall drink it without hesitation.
You know this. You know well enough
that at his bidding I would drown myself
in the sea. Here mother, I give you my
solemn promise that I shall fulfil the
King's promise to you, and I never break
my word."



When Rama uttered these words,
Kaikeyi exulted, for she knew she had
conquered. The King for his part was in
despair, seeing that all escape was now
barred.



Thereupon the pitiless Kaikeyi uttered
these terrible words: "Rama, your words
are worthy of you. What higher duty has a
son than helping fulfilment of the word
his father has given? Now I shall let you
know your father's promise to me. When
in the battle with Sambara your father was
wounded, I rescued and revived him.



Your father in gratitude for having been
rescued by me when grievously wounded
gave me two boons to be claimed and
specified when I choose. I have claimed
and specified them now. They are that
Bharata should be anointed Yuvaraja and
that you should be sent away this very day
to the Dandaka forest, to remain in exile
for fourteen years. You have sworn
solemnly to carry out his promise to me,
and now it is your duty to prove true to
your pledged word. If you find right
conduct as hard as your father did, that is
another matter. Otherwise, listen to what I
say. It is for you now to relinquish the
installation and to go out into exile with
matted locks and hermit weeds, leaving
the preparations now ready to serve for
Bharata's installation."



When she uttered these cruel words the
King writhed in agony, but Rama heard
her untroubled. Kaikeyi beheld a miracle.
There was not the slightest sign of
disappointment or sorrow in Rama's face.



Smiling, the Prince said: "Is that all,
mother? Surely, the King's promise must
be fulfilled. My hair shall be twisted and I
shall wear the bark and I shall go this very
day to the forest."



Kaikeyi spoke prophetic words when
she said Rama's dutifulness would bring
him glory undying. That glory will
continue as long as the Himalaya stands
and the waters of Ganga flow and as long
as the ocean-waves beat on the solid earth.
Rama said to Kaikeyi, in unperturbed
tones: "I am not in the least annoyed.



Would I not be happy to give anything to
Bharata? Even if no one asked me, I
would cheerfully give him my all. And
how can I hold back a moment when my
father commands it? What pains me a
little is that father should have entertained
any doubt about my willingness. Why
should he have hesitated to tell me what
he wanted and left it to you to say it to
me? Am I not his son, bound to do his
behest? What glory or what joy can I look
for except to make good his word? How
did I deserve it that my father should avert
his face from me and refrain from
speaking loving words to me? My
grievance, if at all, is that he did not send
for me straight and give me his command.
I shall go to the forest this very day, with
no regret. Send swift messengers at once
to fetch Bharata home."



The Prince's face glowed like a
sacrificial fire bursting into flame as the
ghee is poured into it. Kaikeyi felt glad at
her apparent success. She could not look
into the future and its sorrow, for what
greater grief can come to a woman than
the scorn of her own son? Greed deceived
her into folly. It prevented her from
understanding aright the mind of her own
son Bharata.



Like a captive elephant hemmed in on
all sides, Dasaratha lay in anguish. With
needless harshness, Kaikeyi hurried Rama
saying, "Do not wait for the King to speak
and prolong the affair."



At this Rama said: "Mother, you have
not, it seems, known me. I value no
pleasure higher than to honor my father's
pledge. Let Bharata carry the burden of
kingship, and look after our aged father. It
will indeed give me the greatest joy."



Dasaratha, silent till now though
listening intently, moaned aloud. Rama
touched the feet of his father and Kaikeyi
and hurried out of the chamber.
Lakshmana had been standing outside. He
knew what had happened and with eyes
red with anger he followed Rama.



On the way Rama saw the vessels
holding the consecrated water for the
coronation. He walked round them in
worship. With calm majesty lie left behind
the white umbrella and other royal
insignia and advised the crowds to
disperse. The Prince, in whom desire had
been vanquished, went to the house of
Queen Kausalya to give her the news and
take her blessings before departing to the
forest.


Readers should exercise their
imagination and build up in their own
hearts the passions and sorrows of the
persons figuring in this epic. Dasaratha's
anguish, Rama's cheerful renunciation and
the greedy passion of Kaikeyi which
smothered all noble impulses these are
familiar phases in our daily lives.



Valmiki and Kamban saw with the
vision of genius and made the events in
Rama's story live again in song. We too
should see them through imagination.
This is the meaning of the tradition that
wherever Rama's tale is told Hanuman
himself joins the gathering and reverently
stands listening with tear-filled eyes. May
everyone that reads this chapter receive by
Rama's grace and strength to bear the
sorrows that have to be faced in life.