In household conversations, Vibhishana is often looked down upon as the traitor who gave away family secrets, though he is also recognized as a much-adored devotee of Ram.
Learning from Ravana
Ravana lay on the ground, breathing heavily, waiting for death to come. ‘Quickly,’ said Ram to Lakshman, ‘go to him and seek out his knowledge. He knew a lot.’
So Lakshman went to Ravana and towering over him said, ‘I am Lakshman, brother of Ram, who has punished you for the crime of abducting his wife. As victor, he has a right to all that you possess, your knowledge included. If you have any honour, pass it on to him before you die.’
Ravana simply turned his face away, angering Lakshman, who reported the scene to Ram.
Ram said, ‘Here is a man who grabbed his brother’s house and another man’s wife and you expected him to just give you what you so rudely and authoritatively demanded as your right. You clearly never saw Ravana.’
Ram then discarded his weapons, walked up to Ravana, sat at his feet, joined his palms and spoke to Ravana in a gentle voice. ‘Noble one, son of Vishrava and Kaikesi, devotee of Shiva, brother of Surpanakha, Vibhishana and Kumbhakarna, father of Indrajit, uncle of Taranisen, friend of Mahiravana, husband of Mandodari, I salute you. I am Ram, who was responsible for mutilating your sister’s body, for which I have been duly punished. I am Ram, whose wife you abducted, for which you have been duly punished. We owe each other no debts. But I seek from you knowledge that you wish to leave behind as your legacy.’
Like a dying lamp restored to life with a fresh offering of oil, Ravana’s eyes lit up. ‘I realize I never saw you, Ram. I just saw the man who my sister hated, my brothers respected, my queens admired and Sita loved. In seeking knowledge from me, you are hoping that I will finally expand my mind and discover the essence of the Vedas, which has eluded me, even though I know all the hymns and all the rituals. You are the ideal student whose curiosity makes the teacher wiser. I bow to you. Brahma tells us that to receive we have to give but most of us, like Indra, seek to receive without giving. Shiva seeks nothing, so he does not bother with the accounts of giving or receiving, but only Ram, who is Vishnu, receives by simply giving. That is why Sita follows him, not me.’
Ravana then breathed his last.
The story of Ram at Ravana’s feet is part of regional retellings such as Krittivasa’s Bengali Ramayana; it is not in the Valmiki Ramayana.
Both the Ramayana and the Mahabharata end not with victory of the heroes but knowledge transmission, a reminder that the war is less about things and more about thoughts.
To look at a person is to do ‘darshan’. This does not mean simply gauging the objective and measurable, it also means getting an insight into the other’s character so deep that it reflects one’s own character. Ram, throughout the Ramayana, admonishes Lakshman for not seeing things as they are as he is too quick to judge and too fettered by his emotions.
The war of the monkeys and the rakshasas lasts eight days traditionally, some say ten, marked by the festival of nine nights or Navaratri culminating in Vijaya-dashami, the victorious tenth day (Dussehra).
Vibhishana Becomes King
Vibhishana, despite all his righteous rage against his brother, felt a great loss when Ravana died. He wept on the battlefield while Mandodari burst into tears inside the palace. Hearing Mandodari cry, all the women of Lanka beat their chests and rolled on the ground, inconsolable in their grief. And the men, who had never shed a tear in their life, bawled like orphaned babies. Sita hugged Trijata and comforted her friend.
‘It is a happy day for you. You have finally been liberated,’ said Trijata.
‘Can joy really spring from such a sea of sorrow?’ was the question that came into the mind of Janaka’s daughter.
The whole city gathered outside the citadel of Lanka to pay homage to their great king as the last rites were being performed. Ram had insisted that everyone who had been killed, vanara or rakshasa, be given a decent cremation. ‘The dead are no one’s enemies,’ he said. The bodies of Indrajit and Kumbhakarna, stored in oil, were placed beside Ravana’s, as well as the bodies of the other soldiers who had died in defence of Lanka. A great fire consumed Ravana and his entourage. The ashes were scattered in the sea and food was offered to crows, who cawed happily, informing all that Ravana had finally made his way across the river Vaitarni to the land of the dead.
When the mourning ended, the men took a bath and washed off the blood that covered their bodies; the women wiped their tears, washed their faces, tied their hair up with flowers, wore fresh clothes and anointed their bodies with perfumes and bedecked themselves with gold. ‘The old king has gone. Time to welcome the new king. The troop must always have a leader.’
Turmeric water was poured on Vibhishana. He was anointed with vermilion, offered a garland of lotus flowers, made to hold a bow. Mandodari replaced his silver anklets with the gold anklets of Ravana. With that act, the queen of Lanka accepted Vibhishana as the new king of Lanka. She sat beside him as Tara had sat beside Sugriva after the death of Vali.
‘May you accept the wife of the previous king out of love, not as a trophy. May neither the kingdom nor its women be seen as your property. May you not derive your worth from your dominion. May you expand your mind with tapasya and yagna, and encourage others to do so. May you thus lead the rakshasas away from the ways of the jungle towards the way of dharma,’ said Ram.
Ravana is killed on the ninth night of the Navaratri festivities and cremated on the tenth day.
According to Assamese folklore, if one cups one’s hand over one’s ears the sound one hears is that of Ravana’s funeral pyre still burning.
It can always be argued that Sugriva and Vibhishana helped Ram so that they could overthrow their respective brothers. But such ambition is not the underlying theme of the Ramayana; it is found in the Mahabharata.
Later, Vibhishana attends the coronation of the Pandava Yudhisthira, but refuses to touch his feet saying he will only bow to Ram. Krishna then bows to Yudhisthira saying all kings are like Ram, until they act otherwise. Vibhishana follows suit.
Vibhishana and Hanuman are chiranjivi, meaning ‘those who live forever’.
Trial by Fire
Patiently Sita heard the mourning end and being replaced by celebration. Patiently she watched the city being cleaned and decorated for the new king. Patiently she watched the streets being watered, the flags being unfurled. Patiently she heard the war drums being replaced by flutes of joy. Patiently she waited for Ram to send for her.
But something told her there was agitation in his heart. She remembered how Renuka had been beheaded because she was unchaste in thought. She remembered how Ahilya had been turned to stone because she was unchaste in deed. She had been unchaste in neither thought nor body, but how does one prove purity? Those who trust need no proof; those who do not trust reject all proof. And whether she liked it or not, she was a blot on Ram’s reputation. Ravana had seized her while she was in Ram’s protection; she symbolized Ram’s failure. Would the world be as forgiving as him? Would he speak his own mind or give voice to the world he ruled?
The women came to her carrying news that Ram had sent for her. Vibhishana would hand her over as the brother who hands over the bride. Hanuman had been sent by the groom to accompany her; he carried with him her jewellery that the vanaras had found cast away on the forest floor. Besides this, every woman in Lanka had sent a piece of jewellery for the woman they had come to love. They wanted her to be more resplendent than the starry sky when she finally met Ram.
But then there was an argument. Some women said, ‘Should her husband not see what she has become in his absence – dull and lifeless? Let him know how much she missed him.’ Others disagreed: ‘No. He is seeing her after many moons. Let him be dazzled by her beauty.’ There were those who argued, ‘If she looks radiant and beautiful, he might assume she was happy in captivity. Let us take her as she is right now, unwashed, unkempt, like a tree bereft of flo
wers and leaves.’ ‘Let the world not say that Lanka does not treat its guests well,’ said Sarama. ‘She was no guest, she was a captive,’ snapped Trijata.
Finally, bathed, perfumed, bejewelled and wrapped in fine robes, to the singing of bridal songs, with a canopy over her head, Sita left the garden of Ashoka trees, emerged from Lanka and made her way towards Ram.
Everyone rushed to see the woman over whom this vast war had been fought. They had heard so much about her. Rakshasas and vanaras climbed on top of each other just to catch a glimpse of Sita. Soldiers had to be called in to control the crowds. This display of impatience and impropriety by the men annoyed both Sugriva and Vibhishana. But Ram said, ‘Let it be. Let them see what this fight was all about.’
‘She is a person, your wife, not a trophy to be displayed,’ said Lakshman.
Ram did not reply.
When Sita finally came before Ram, she saw a very different man, not the youth with sparkling eyes who had set out to fetch the golden deer. This was a tired, unsure warrior covered with battle scars. She sensed he was like a boat struggling against the current. He lacked the excitement and enthusiasm she saw on Lakshman’s face. This was a king taking a decision, not a lover awaiting his beloved.
Ram finally spoke. ‘I, scion of the Raghu clan, have killed Ravana, the man who abducted you. Thus have I restored the honour of my family name. Let it be known this was the reason this war was fought, not to save you. Let it be known that your presence before me does not bring me any joy; you are like grit in my eye, a blot on my family name, for you have chosen to live under the roof of another man through the rainy seasons instead of killing yourself. I would like you to go freely wherever you wish, to Vibhishana, to Sugriva, to Lakshman. Let it be known I stake no claim on you.’
Everyone was shocked to hear Ram say this. This was not the man with whom they had fought the war. This was not the man who wept every night thinking of his wife, staring at her hairpin. Who was this cold, unfeeling creature?
Very calmly Sita asked that logs of wood and bundles of straw be brought and a bonfire be lit. Everyone thought she wanted to burn herself alive after being insulted so. But when she entered the fire, the flames withdrew from her person and Agni, the fire-god, said, ‘I burn only impure things. This one I cannot burn, for she is pure of thought and body.’
‘What about reputation?’ asked Ram.
‘That,’ said Agni, ‘is a human measuring scale that makes no sense to nature. Take this woman as your wife, Ram, for she will take no other as her husband but you.’
Ram beamed like a child on hearing this, but only for a moment. Then the stoic expression returned. ‘So it shall be,’ he said, stretching out his hand, inviting Sita to be by his side.
Ram is lovelorn before Sita’s arrival but cruel when she actually appears before him. Before her arrival, he is her husband but on her arrival he transforms into the scion of the Raghu clan.
Ram describes the sight of Sita as hurtful as ‘a lamp to the diseased eye’ in the Valmiki Ramayana.
From the Tamil Sri Vaishnava tradition comes the story of Ram instructing Sita via Vibhishana that she bathe and bedeck herself before coming to see him. Sita obeys, angering Ram who had expected her to understand that what he said was not what he meant. She should have sensed his real wish and insisted on seeing him unbathed and unbedecked.
That Ram values his family more than his wife is a cause of deep resentment to women across India, for traditional society typically gives the young wife a lower status until she becomes the matriarch of the household. The fear is that the wife will make the husband dance to her tune and the grip of the family over the son will go away. Thus the husband becomes the territory over whom the family and the wife feud.
In the Kashmiri Ramayana, Sita burns for fourteen days and emerges resplendent as gold.
A common theme in medieval retellings of the Ramayana such as the Adbhut Ramayana and Ezhutachan’s Malayalam Ramayana is that the Sita abducted by Ravana is Chhaya-Sita or Maya-Sita, a duplicate and not the real person. It is actually Vedavati and the reason for the trial by fire is to restore the real Sita. This narrative stems from the concept of pollution. With Ram being increasingly seen as God, devotees cannot bear the idea of his consort being rendered impure by a demon.
The idea of a duplicate being abducted, and the original remaining pure, is found in Greek mythology too. Herodotus argued that the Helen abducted by Paris and taken to Troy was a lookalike and that the real Helen languished in Egypt while the Greeks and Trojans fought their war over her. Thus Helen, we are told by playwrights such as Euripides, was chaste and not the shameless woman portrayed by Homer. Women’s chastity and fidelity become a currency for male honour in cultures around the world, perhaps because it indulges the male self-image.
The fire trial is seen as a purification rite. In the Mahabharata, when Draupadi moves from one husband to another, she passes through fire to purify herself.
Ritual purity, and the resulting hierarchy, has played a critical role in shaping Indian society where members of certain professions such as butchers and cobblers and sweepers, and people who eat non-vegetarian food, are sidelined.
In the Mahabharata retelling of the Ramayana, Ramopakhyan, Sita simply faints after being accused of infidelity and then is revived by Brahma who testifies to her chastity.
The Thousand-headed Demon
Just as Sita took her place beside Ram, a roar was heard from the horizon and a creature with a thousand heads rose from beyond the hills. ‘That is Ravana’s twin, who lives in the Pushkara Island,’ said Vibhishana, quivering with fear. ‘Even Ravana feared him.’
Before Ram could reach for his bow, everyone saw an incredible sight. Sita suddenly transformed. Her eyes widened, her skin turned red, her hair came unbound, and she sprouted many arms with which she grabbed the sticks and stones of the vanaras and the swords and spears of the rakshasas. Thus armed, she leapt on to a lion that appeared out of nowhere and rushed to do battle with the demon. It was a fierce battle, the Goddess with her many arms pounding the demon who dared interrupt her union with her husband. She ripped out his entrails, chopped away his limbs, crushed his heads, broke his knees and drank his blood. Thus satiated, she returned to sit beside Ram as the demure Sita, a gentle smile on her lips.
No words were spoken. Everyone was stunned by the realization that Sita was Gauri who was also Kali. She had allowed herself to be abducted. She had allowed herself to be rescued. She was the independent Goddess who had made Ram the dependable God.
The story of a rakshasa who has a hundred or a thousand heads and so is greater than Ravana and is killed by Sita, not Ram, is part of the Adbhut Ramayana. The story emerges in the fifteenth century as part of Shakta Hinduism.
The Odia Bilanka Ramayana of Sarala Das also tells the story of Sita the Goddess.
While Vedic schools of Hinduism visualized the supreme being as male, the Tantric schools visualized the supreme being as female. Both these schools came under the umbrella term of ‘saguna’ – those who seek divinity in form. Many chose the ‘nirguna’ approach – seeing divinity as formless. But the masses sought the tangible as it was more accessible, hence the need to see God embodied in gendered forms.
The Adbhut Ramayana repeatedly shifts between the fearsome (Chandi-rupa) and the gentle (Mangal-rupa) forms of the Goddess. The latter form is the result of domestication. In temples, the Goddess is offered cloth and jewellery, and prayers are offered so that she voluntarily domesticates herself to benefit humanity. Forcible domestication leads to problems later on.
Yuddha-kanda is called Lanka-kanda in some retellings.
In the Telugu Ranganatha Ramayana, Ravana’s father learned that while he was meditating his wife had missed ten periods. He felt sad and so gave the son she finally bore ten heads, one for each of the missed periods.
From a psychoanalytical point of view, both Dashratha and Ravana are father figures. Both deny Ram pleasure, one by exiling him from Ayodh
ya and the other by kidnapping Sita. In one, Ram cannot express his rage as anger is seen as a base instinct unbecoming of an evolved being. In the other, he can, through monkeys.
In Sri Vaishnava literature, Sita is described as having the capability of killing Ravana on her own but not doing so as Ram had not instructed her to kill him.
Book Seven: Freedom
‘He remained trapped in culture, but nature set her free.’
Pushpak
The war was over, Ravana was dead, Sita was liberated, Lanka had a new king, Sugriva had repaid his debt and the fourteen years of exile were over. It was time to return home. ‘Let us hurry,’ said Ram. ‘It is a long walk.’
‘Why walk when you can fly?’ said Vibhishana. ‘This flying chariot, Pushpak, desires to return to its true master, Kubera. It needs to fly north, to Alaka. But on the way, it can surely take you home, for did you not liberate it from Ravana’s clutches?’
Sita hesitated, for she had unpleasant memories of the chariot. ‘But now you are with Ram and Lakshman,’ said Vibhishana, ‘what is there to fear? Besides we will accompany you, myself and Sarama and Mandodari, and your friend Trijata.’
‘We will come too,’ said Sugriva, Hanuman, Angada, Nala, Nila and Jambuvan.
And so everyone stepped on Kubera’s magnificent aerial chariot. It flapped its wings like a swan and rose to the sky and made its way north out of Lanka to Ayodhya.
According to the Padma Purana, Ram and the others flew back home because the bridge across the sea had been destroyed. Vibhishana had asked Ram to destroy the bridge built by the monkeys to prevent others from invading Lanka.