35. THE GOLDEN STAG :

35. THE GOLDEN STAG :



MARICHA told Ravana, "I have
listened, my king, to all that you have said
and I am filled with boundless sorrow. It
is easy to flatter. Flattery is ever pleasant
to the ears. Those who utter good though
unpalatable advice are few; and fewer still
are those who welcome it when given. Yet
it is my duty to speak to you the harsh
truth. Sweet words might please you now,
but will surely lead you to danger and
ruin. Your informants have not told you
the truth about Rama. Do not be deceived
by what you have heard from others about
this Rama. He is neither a renegade nor a
criminal, but a dutiful son who is in the
forest to honor his father's word. Far from
being a weakling or coward, he is a
mighty warrior, whose equal in arms does
not exist. Do not make him your
implacable enemy and bring ruin on your
people and your kingdom. From what you
are bent upon, it looks as though Sita was
born only to compass your ruin. The race
of Rakshasas and Lanka itself will soon be
destroyed on your account. Who is the
enemy that has put this disastrous thought
into your head? Who has given you this
bad advice to take you, your kingdom and
your race to danger and destruction? Who
told you that he was a lover of pleasure
and falsehood? Rama is the embodiment
of dharma. He employs his strength and
courage in the service of dharma. As Indra
is surely the first among the gods, Rama is
first among mortal men. How dare you,
how could you, cast longing eyes on Sita?
Will Sita ever yield to you? Take her from
Rama indeed! Can one deceive the sun
and steal from him his light? You will be
reduced to ashes if you approach the
blazing fire of Janaka's daughter. Do not
fall a prey to Rama's shafts. Do not seek
your own death. Do not approach the fire
guarded by Rama. One should not launch
on a course of action without full thought.
You can never vanquish Rama in battle.



O, Ruler of the Rakshasas, do not turn a
deaf ear to my words. Do you remember
how, in olden days, proud of my strength,
I disturbed the rites and sacrifice of the
sage Viswamitra. In those days Rama was
but a boy; yet Viswamitra had, with
Dasaratha's permission, taken young
Rama to protect his sacrifice. That sage
knew Rama's prowess. I approached the
place to put out the sacrificial fire with
contaminating blood and flesh and then I
came up against the boy Rama. What do
you think happened? He let loose an
arrow which killed Subahu on the spot
and with another he swept me off my feet
and hurled me into the sea. Rama the boy
is now a man, immeasurably stronger and
more skillful in arms! Do not incur his
wrath. Do not bring ruin on your people
who are now enjoying wealth and
pleasure. Do not harbor thoughts about
Sita and bring down destruction on your
rich and beautiful city and certain death
on yourself. If your persist in your foolish
project, O Ravana, I see before my eyes
the ruin that awaits you. I see Lanka in
flames and her streets littered with death,
and her widows and orphans loud in
lamentation. Avoid this great sin. If you
are angry with Rama fight him face to
face and meet your death like a hero. Do
not follow a fraudulent path and drag me
into it. Go back and be happy with your
numerous wives. Do not invite Yama to
your land and race!"



Thus Maricha earnestly pleaded for the
good of Ravana who, however, was far
from pleased or convinced. How could
good advice prevail on a victim of lust?
Like a sick man rejecting medicine,
Ravana refused to listen to Maricha's
counsel.



"If a king" said Ravana, "wants to
know whether a thing should or should
not be done, it is open to his adviser to
examine its advantages and disadvantages,
but I have not come to you for such
advice. I am king and I have come to tell
you that I have decided to do this. I expect
and want your help to carry it out. You
forget the loyalty due from you and dare
tell me that what I contemplate is wrong.



On this matter, I have considered
everything and reached a decision. This
insignificant creature whom you extol is
unworthy of the honor of a formal
challenge to battle from me. What more is
he than a man driven out of his own
country, a fool who has allowed himself
to be cheated by a woman and has been
deprived of his rights? The proper
treatment or such a fellow is to disgrace
him by carrying off his wife. This is a
matter determined and concluded. Your
remarks are therefore irrelevant. You
should do what I want you to do and that
is not much. Transform yourself into a
strange and beautiful stag and appear
before Sita and attract her attention. Sita
will send Rama to pursue and capture you.
You should draw Rama away to a distance
and simulate Rama's voice and cry 'Ah,
Sita, Ah, Lakshmana!' Hearing this Sita
will conclude that Rama is in danger and
she will force Lakshmana to go to his
help. When thus she is alone, I shall carry
her off to Lanka. Once you have rendered
me this help, you will be at liberty to do
what you like. But if you will not help me
now, understand, your life shall be
forfeit."



Maricha thought within himself. "My
frenzied Ravana who is already under the
shadow of doom will not listen to advice.
Sinful desire is driving him to Yama. It is
better for me to be killed by Rama than by
Ravana. At least then I would yield my
life to a foe."
And so be agreed to the proposal.



He said: "I have given you good
advice, but you will not listen. If I carry
out your wishes, I am sure to die. But not
more sure than that you will also perish,
not long after with all that is yours. So
will our race. Some enemy of ours
wishing our destruction has set you on this
course, someone who envies you. I would
rather be killed by a foe whom I respect
than by you. Come, let us go to Dandaka."
Ravana was overjoyed and embraced
Maricha saying: "Now you are again my
dear old Maricha."



The two ascended the chariot and
proceeded towards the Dandaka forest.
They flew over cities, mountains, rivers
and kingdoms. Reaching Dandaka, they
espied Rama's ashrama in a banana
garden.



They alighted at a distance and Ravana
took Maricha by the hand and, pointing to
the ashrama, told him to do his part
according to their plan.



At once Maricha transformed himself
into a wonderful deer. Every part of the
animal had its own different hue and
exquisite beauty. Like a rainbow in the
sky, it charmed the eye of the beholder.
Gold, silver, diamonds, gems and flowers
seemed to appear in succession on its
beautiful skin. It was like a living stream
of jewels flowing on a beautiful golden
body.



With such surpassing beauty the magic
deer wandered here and there, now resting
for a while and now pursuing its graceful
gambols. It would sometimes bend and
nibble the grass on the ground, again lift
its head up to eat the tender leaves of
plants. Sometimes walk slowly near the
ashrama and again jump away and
disappear and reappear at a distance.
Sometimes it would join a herd of deer;
then it would part from it and walk alone.
The other deer would smell him and move
away in sudden terror.



Sita, who was then gathering flowers in
the forest, looked at the stag and stared
spell-bound at its wondrous beauty. The
deer, too, stared back at her and ran here
and there in front of her, shedding a new
beauty on the landscape.



"Do come and look! Do come and
look!" cried Sita, eager that Rama and
Lakshmana too should see that wonderful
stag.



"Come quickly, quickly!" she cried.
Rama and Lakshmana came out of the
cottage and saw the exquisite creature and
marvelled at its beauty.



Lakshmana grew suspicious. It seemed
to him it was no ordinary deer, but a
Rakshasa in disguise. Both Rama and
Lakshmana had heard about Maricha and
had been told how, assuming the form of a
deer, he would often beguile and destroy
those who came for hunting deer in the
forest.



Lakshmana said, "This is no ordinary
animal. This is a trick of the Rakshasas."
But Sita said: "Do catch this deer for
me. We shall bring it up as a pet in the
ashrama. This is the most beautiful
creature I have so far seen in this forest.
Look! Do look at it. What color! What
playfulness!"



And so she went on, talking of the deer
and desiring to possess it. And she
pleaded: "Do somehow catch it for me."
She begged Rama: "Soon we shall
have to return to the city. Should we not
take some rare thing from the forest to
Ayodhya? How beautiful it will be, this
exquisite creature moving in the inner
apartments of our palace? Bharata would
be so pleased. I should love to give it to
him. Do my beloved, catch it for me.
Somehow catch it for me."



Sita saw that Lakshmana did not seem
to like her importunity. This only made
her more determined to persuade Rama to
get it for her. If a strong desire creeps into
our heart and someone stands in the way
of it, we are angry with him no matter
how dear he may be to us.
This unfortunate truth about the way
that desire works in the human mind is
explained clearly by the Lord in the Gita.
It was demonstrated by what happened in
Sita's heart now.



"Look!" she exclaimed, "it is all gold!
Look now! It is all silver! If you cannot
capture the creature alive, at least bring it
down with an arrow and let us take the
skin home. We shall never again see such
a beautiful skin. It would be a lovely thing
to sit on. Look. It is going away. Do go
and catch it alive. Or else, let me have at
least the skin."



Again she said, "Look, look again. All
these long years, I never saw such a
beautiful thing in these forests. It is like a
cluster of shining stars!"
Rama could no longer resist her
entreaties.



He said to himself: "Even if
Lakshmana be right and the creature is a
Rakshasa so much the better reason for
killing it. What is there to be afraid of? If I
cannot catch it alive, I can bring it down
with an arrow and give the skin to Sita.
When she is so keen on having it, is it not
my duty to get it for her?"



And he told Lakshmana to bring him
his bow and arrows. Lakshmana's heart
was not in it, but he obeyed.



And Rama set out saying: "Mind,
Lakshmana, remain by Sita's side and
guard her vigilantly. I shall come back
soon with this stag alive or killed. Do not
be anxious. Even if this is a Rakshasa,
what does it matter? It will share the fate
of Vatapi. If this has come here to cheat
me, as Vatapi tried to cheat Agastya, why
then, it will be the victim of its own
deceit. What can this animal do to me?
Stag or Rakshasa, it is all the same."
Again he said, "Be careful. Mind Sita.
Anything might happen at any time. Be
vigilant."



Destiny had set the stage for
misfortune. Strangely enough Lakshmana,
who was by nature hasty and quick to act,
was suspicious on this occasion and
Rama, who was usually circumspect now
yielded to Sita's foolish wish, and
disregarding Lakshmana's warning, went
in pursuit of the Maricha-stag.
In order to give Ravana plenty of time
and opportunity, Maricha kept within
sight of Rama, but beyond his reach, and
drew him on and on like fate. The deer
would take a few steps, then stop and turn
and stare at the pursuer. Then suddenly it
would start as if in fear. Pricking its ears,
it would spring drawing up its hooves to
its breast. It would disappear for a while
among the trees. Emerging soon on some
tall mound, it would display its lovely
outline framed against a passing cloud.
Sometimes it allowed near approach as
though tired and so easy of capture but
presently it would spring up and bound far
away.



This went on until Maricha took Rama
far out. Then the Rakshasa realised this
game would not go on forever and that his
end was near. Rama, tired of the pursuit,
bent his bow and sent forth an arrow. It
pierced the stag. Maricha resumed his
natural form and simulating Rama's voice
called out, "Ah Sita, Ah Lakshmana!" and
fell dead.



"Lakshmana was right," said Rama to
himself. "This deer was indeed a
Rakshasa."



He thought further: "Hearing his last
cry, maybe, Sita will be deceived. She is
likely to be overwhelmed by fear."
He then said to himself again: "What if
Sita entertains false fears? Lakshmana is
there by her side."



His heart then swelled with pride and
joy, that he had a brother like Lakshmana,
so loving and so steadfast. How could
Rama guess what was happening at that
very instant in the ashrama, and what
painful words Lakshmana had to bear
from Sita? Truly, the way of destiny is
cruel.


NEXT :- 36. THE GOOD BIRD JATAYU


Continues.....