Sita: An Illustrated Retelling of the Ramayana
The story of Ram rejecting the touch of the trees and the sages but promising to do so when he returns as Krishna is also part of folklore.
It is said that Shakti, much against Shiva’s wishes, took the form of Sita and met Ram in order to calm him down. But she did not fool Ram. He recognized her as the Goddess. He bowed to her. This story is part of the Tulja Bhavani legend in Maharashtra. Tulsidas also narrates this story. In his version, the failure of Shakti to recognize Ram’s divinity and her desire to test him leads to her immolating herself as Sati.
Stories that speak of Ram returning as Krishna in his next life connect the two avatars. This is a recurring motif in the later retellings of Ram’s story. It reinforces the image of Ram as the one who has only one wife who is also his beloved, as opposed to Krishna who has many wives and lovers.
Stomach Kabandha
Hanuman then told Sita how he discovered Ram’s great skill as a warrior.
Armed with the information given by Jatayu, Ram moved straight south, looking neither this way nor that, not eating, not drinking, not sleeping, determined to find his Sita. Lakshman followed him. Ram was indifferent to the roars of hungry lions and the thunderous feet of wild elephant herds and the thick forest covers that refused to let even a sliver of sunlight reach the ground. He just kept walking.
Further south, the path was blocked by a demon called Kabandha. All the vanaras knew about this terrible beast. It had no head: the head had merged with its stomach; it had two long arms with which it grabbed prey. Its hunger was insatiable and all vanaras kept away from its reach.
Ram and Lakshman suddenly found themselves in its grasp: Ram in one hand and Lakshman in the other. Kabandha’s nails were long and sharp, and covered with the blood and entrails of earlier prey, but the two brothers did not show any fear. They simply raised their swords and sliced off its arms in a single swoop, Ram the right arm and Lakshman the left, and made good their escape.
To their surprise, and Hanuman’s, the monster thanked the brothers profusely instead of cursing them. ‘Without arms to put food into my mouth, I am finally able to shift my attention from finding food to understanding my hunger, at least in the moments before I die. Thank you. I am Vishwavasu, a gandharva. I was always hungry, for food, for wine, for music, for entertainment, for the company of women. I was too busy indulging my appetite to reflect on my hunger. Worse, I mocked tapasvis who tried to understand and outgrow hunger. One of the rishis I made fun of cursed me that since the head was wasted on me, I would turn into a monster whose stomach was his head, who did nothing all day but eat. One day, a man would come and make it possible for me to think. You have done that, by cutting off my arms, by compelling me to stop eating and reflect on my hunger. I am grateful to you for that. I realize how useless my life has been. Let me make my life worthwhile. Let me help you. Tell me how.’
Ram said, ‘We are looking for my wife Sita who has been abducted by the rakshasa-king Ravana. Do you know where he could have taken her?’
‘He must have taken her to the city of Lanka, located far to the south. No one has seen this city; it is too far south. But there are rumours that it is splendid, made of gold. You may need the help of the monkeys known as vanaras who live in Kishkindha around Mount Rishyamukha near Lake Pampa. These vanaras are great scouts. They know the whole world well and can find anything you want, for they scour the earth foraging for food.’ After speaking these words, Kabandha died.
Hanuman then watched Ram and Lakshman cremate Kabandha. ‘They cremate even their enemies. My husband says everyone must be given the option to be reborn,’ said Sita to Hanuman.
From the flames arose a celestial being. It was Vishwavasu as he should have been. Ram saw Indra invite the gandharva to his paradise, Amravati, where all hungers are satisfied. But instead of going east where Indra resided, Vishwavasu chose to go north to Mount Kailas, where Shiva teaches all creatures how to outgrow hunger.
Hearing this, Sita asked Hanuman, ‘Did my Ram eat after that? Or drink?’
Hanuman replied, ‘No. He immediately set out for Kishkindha, refusing to eat or drink.’
‘What about Lakshman?’
‘He just followed his brother.’
In the Valmiki Ramayana, Lakshman encounters another rakshasa woman called Ayomukhi who tries to seduce him and like Surpanakha gets her nose chopped off.
Like Viradha, Kabandha is also a rakshasa as the result of a curse. Contact with Ram transforms him, liberates him. And so the story can be seen as one of mind expansion, outgrowing the instinct to feed and focus on hunger alone.
Because of Kaikeyi, Ram, Lakshman and Sita are exposed to the primal fear related to survival, the end of social certainty and being enveloped by wilderness. In Tantra, this is represented by the Muladhara chakra or the base node located at the anus (the first thing a deer does when scared is clear its bowels and bladder to lighten itself and prepare for the chase and the tiger does the same to mark its territory). Then they are exposed to Viradha and Surpanakha and Ayomukhi who embody sexual desires marked by the Swadishtana chakra or the genital node. Kabandha embodies hunger marked by the Manipura chakra or the stomach node. With Ravana comes the emotional need to control and dominate marked by the Anahata or heart chakra. With Hanuman comes communication, the Vishuddha chakra located at the throat node, which leads to Vibhishana and the rise of insight and conscience, indicated by the Agna or forehead chakra. All this leads to the flowering of the final crown node, the Saharshapadma chakra, of wisdom.
Ram’s meeting Kabandha is key to the Ramayana plot as he points the way to the kingdom of monkeys, which transforms the narrative dramatically.
The Berries of Shabari
Hanuman then told Sita how he discovered Ram’s sensitivity and compassion.
Ram walked for days and nights, weeping occasionally on thinking about Sita’s condition, his body covered with sweat and grime, his unwashed face covered with unkempt hair, his eyes bloodshot.
Lakshman followed his brother silently, feeling guilty at times and ashamed at others. He knew his brother would not tolerate a pitying look or a comforting hug. He just followed him deeper and deeper into the forest, over rocks and streams that no rishi from the north had as yet crossed.
‘I get the feeling we are being watched,’ said Lakshman, looking above at the trees, noticing a bee.
‘Don’t get distracted. Let’s just keep walking. We need to find the vanaras.’
Then a woman cried out, ‘Stop!’ Ram stopped. The woman was a resident of the forest, wearing animal skin, feathers and strings of rocks and beads.
‘Sit!’ she said. Ram sat. ‘You look hungry,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you need to eat. I have berries with me. You can eat them.’ Ram looked at the berries in the hand of the strange tribal woman and waited to be served.
The woman bit into a berry and then gave it to Ram. Ram ate it; it was sweet and succulent. She bit into another berry and threw that berry away. She then bit into the third berry and gave it to Lakshman.
Lakshman recoiled in disgust. ‘How dare you feed me a fruit that you have bitten into? I am no servant to eat such soiled food. I am Lakshman, prince of Ayodhya, and this is Ram, its king. Don’t you have any manners?’
The woman was surprised by Lakshman’s outburst. She apologized profusely but Ram comforted her and spoke sternly to his brother: ‘Clearly, what I saw is not what you saw. We are two men walking in the forest carrying weapons. We make a fearsome sight yet this woman comes to us. She is surely a brave woman. She stops us for our sake, to feed us; she is under no obligation to do so. She is clearly a caring, generous woman. And she bites into the berries to ensure they are sweet enough. She is a good host. This is what I saw, but what did you see? A woman without manners, manners you learned at the palace. Look at her, Lakshman, she is a forest woman, what does she know of palaces and its manners, its princes and its kings? You judge her by your standards. You don’t even look at her. You have eyes, but you are blind.’
Ram ate the berries the woman offered with relish. He did not know her name but he called her Shabari, a woman of the savara tribe. Energized, he resumed his search for Sita.
Hearing this, Sita told Hanuman, ‘I am like Shabari’s berry. I belong to Ram but Ravana wants to taste me. Will Ram still accept me when I am thus contaminated?’
‘In nature, nothing is contaminated,’ said Hanuman.
‘Ah, but Ram is a king, not a sage. He does not care for nature as much as he cares for culture. In culture, the polluted are cast out.’
In the Valmiki Ramayana Shabari is described as a lowly caretaker of a hermitage whose residents have long died. She waits for the prophesied arrival of Ram and when he does she is so happy that after serving him she seeks liberation. She immolates herself. The story of the berries is not found either in Kamban’s Tamil work or in the later Sanskrit Adhyatma Ramayana. In the Assamese Ramayana, Indra sends a vimana and takes Shabari to his paradise. The story of the berries comes much later in oral folklore, and appears in devotional literature as late as the eighteenth century in writings such as Bhaktirasbodhini of Priyadas.
The feeding of pre-tasted berries (jhoothe ber, in Hindi) comes from the time in Indian history that saw a significant rise in the notion of pollution following contact with bodily fluids. To be untouched by contaminants placed one higher in the purity hierarchy. So people like butchers who dealt with carcasses of animals were considered inferior to vegetarian priests. Ram, the one to free Ahilya on Vishwamitra’s instructions, comes into his own when he does not reject Shabari’s offering. It shows Ram rising above common social taboos and looking at the humanity of a person. This is the Ram of the people, not the Ram of a priest.
The Ramayana needs to be seen as an organic tradition, created by people who pour into it all that they consider best. The desire to fix and fossilize it is typically seen amongst politicians and academicians who wish to impose their views and dominate all discourse.
In folk retellings in Odisha, Shabari offers Ram a mango. In other versions, the ber is identified as Indian blackberry or jamun.
Hanuman Reveals Himself
Hanuman then told Sita how he finally revealed himself to Ram.
As Dashratha’s sons approached Lake Pampa near Mount Rishyamukha, they were approached by a young hermit. He offered them a mango and said, in chaste Sanskrit, ‘Who are you? Your presence frightens every living creature in this forest. You carry weapons like warriors but are dressed like hermits. You walk stridently towards the south, confident in your every move. Are you devas? Are you asuras? Identify yourselves, strangers.’
Lakshman’s hand reached for his sword. He was anxious.
Ram said, ‘You see us as a threat and my brother sees you as a threat. Like rival beasts we can measure each other wondering who is stronger and smarter. But we are not beasts. We are humans. I see you and you see me. I see you speak in a polished tongue, indicating you know the meaning of being cultured. And you see me as an armed hermit, indicating I am confused, perhaps like Parashurama or Vishwamitra, neither completely warrior nor completely sage. Let me tell you who I am and then you tell me who you are.’
Ram proceeded to introduce himself, telling the hermit his tragic tale, how he had to live in the forest to keep his father’s word to Kaikeyi, how his wife had been abducted by a demon in the forest and how he was looking for her. ‘I have been told in these mountains dwell vanaras who can help me.’
The hermit replied, ‘Long have I watched you, ever since the whole forest saw Ravana tear our Jatayu’s wing in the sky. I watched you cremate the poor bird, kill Kabandha, and accept Shabari’s berries. You are not an ordinary man. Now you tell me you let your brother be king of the kingdom that is rightfully yours. This is extraordinary. All living creatures I know chase food, grab food and hoard food. No one gives anyone anything; at best the parent, until the children can fend for themselves. Never have I heard of a creature who gives up his own pleasure to please someone else. You reveal a possibility that I never knew existed in humanity. I bow to you. I am Hanuman, son of Anjana and Kesari, servant of Sugriva, leader of the vanaras.’
The hermit then changed form and turned into a monkey.
‘See, he is not what he appeared to be,’ said Lakshman, grabbing an arrow.
‘How do you expect him to show us the truth about him until we gain his trust? He trusts us now. It is time you trusted him too,’ said Ram.
‘Come sit on my shoulders,’ said Hanuman, ‘and I will carry you to Mount Rishyamukha where Sugriva resides. On the way I will tell you our tale.’
Sita looked at the small monkey and wondered how he had managed to carry Ram and Lakshman on his shoulders and fly.
With a twinkle in his eye, Hanuman said, ‘Looks can be deceptive, as you well know. A golden deer can be a shape-shifting demon and a small monkey can be a shape-shifting god.’
Pampa is sometimes identified not as a lake but as the Tungabhadra river. Some scholars trace the name Hampi in Karnataka, seat of the sixteenth-century Vijayanagara empire, to Pampa.
Hanuman is known in literature for his command over Sanskrit. As a language, Sanskrit is considered a highly designed, structured and ornamental language as opposed to Prakrit which is more organic. Sanskrit is called deva-bhasha, language of the gods, while Prakrit is called manushya-bhasha, language of humans. In ancient India, the masses and all women spoke Prakrit. Sanskrit was restricted to priests and kings. That Hanuman knows the language, even though he is a monkey, makes him special.
Hanuman is always called a monkey while Ravana, besides being called a demon, is constantly identified as the son of a brahmin, hence a member of the brahmin jati. Thus, in the forest, Ram hears of two creatures, one of the highest caste and one of the lowest (or no) caste, both of whom speak the language of the gods, both of whom are very different in nature. In Ravana, the animal instinct to dominate and be territorial is amplified, while in Hanuman it is outgrown.
Mewati Jogis of Rajasthan who are Muslims as well as devotees of Shiva are bards who sing a song called ‘Lanka Chadhai’ or the assault on Lanka. They say how a hungry Ram sends Lakshman in search of fruit. Lakshman encounters a monkey in an orchard who accuses him of theft and swallows him up. Ram fights Hanuman and sounds of the fight reach Shiva. Shiva comes to the rescue of Hanuman and fights Ram. Ram’s touch cures Shiva of a skin ailment. Pleased, Shiva offers two boons to Ram. Ram asks for Lakshman, and Lakshman – who has realized Hanuman’s strength while being locked in his stomach – asks for the support of Hanuman. That is how Hanuman comes to follow Ram.
The Loss of Wives
Hanuman then told Sita about the meeting between Ram and Sugriva.
Hanuman, once bee, then young priest, then tiny monkey, transformed into a giant. Ram and Lakshman mounted his mighty shoulders and were amazed as he leapt through the skies, and made his way to Sugriva’s hideout atop Rishyamukha. The brothers felt like birds as they saw below them the carpet of the dense green forest, littered with large silver rocks, with glistening blue-green rivers snaking their way through.
On reaching Mount Rishyamukha, they met Sugriva. Introductions were exchanged. They sat on branches of trees and ate fruit and refreshed themselves with water from mountain springs as Hanuman narrated the tale of the sons of Dashratha to Sugriva.
‘Tell me, scion of the Raghu clan, do you recognize these?’ said Sugriva, presenting to Ram something wrapped in cloth.
Ram opened the cloth and found within exquisitely carved gold jewellery: rings of Sita’s toes, fingers and nose, her anklets, her bracelets, her armlets, her waistband. Ram could not breathe. Lakshman said, ‘I recognize those anklets. They are those that adorned the feet of my elder brother’s wife. These must belong to Sita.’
Sugriva explained, ‘I saw Ravana on a flying chariot carrying a woman with him. She was writhing and resisting, screaming out for someone called Ram, casting away these jewels on the forest floor as if to leave a trail. I got my monkeys to pick t
hem up. I sent Hanuman north to investigate.’
‘Do you know where Lanka is?’ asked Ram, running his fingers delicately over Sita’s jewellery.
‘No vanara has laid eyes on it. It is much further south,’ said Sugriva.
‘Enough about my sorrows,’ said Ram. ‘Tell me why you live like a refugee in your own kingdom. Hanuman says you dare not leave this mountain.’
Sugriva then proceeded to tell Ram his tragic tale of the misunderstanding between his bother Vali and him. ‘You lost your wife to Ravana; I lost my wife to my own brother. Help me and I will surely help you.’
Sita wondered what hurt Sugriva more: loss of kingdom or loss of wife. Kishkindha he was obliged to share with his brother, not Ruma. Now the brother had both, kingdom and wife.
‘Do you always think so much?’ Hanuman asked Sita.
‘Is that bad?’ asked Sita.
‘The vanaras say it is the undoing of naras.’
‘The difference between vanaras and naras is thought. Thought allows nara to discover Narayana.’
‘Who is Narayana?’
‘The sleeping Vishnu: our human potential that awaits blossoming.’
‘What is this human potential?’
‘To see the world from another’s point of view, and make sense of it.’
‘I think it has blossomed in Ram.’
‘I agree.’
‘I think it has blossomed in Sita too,’ said Hanuman.
Flying captures the imagination of Valmiki. Ravana flies on Pushpak Vimana. Hanuman flies to Kishkindha and later to Lanka.
Long before Indians became familiar with the European fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel leaving a trail of breadcrumbs, they had heard about the trail of Sita’s jewels.