The Rámáyana of Tulsi Dás/Book IV

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The Rámáyana of Tulsi Dás (1883)
by Tulsidas, translated by Frederic Salmon Growse
Book IV.—Kishkindyá
Tulsidas3890269The Rámáyana of Tulsi Dás — Book IV.—Kishkindyá1883Frederic Salmon Growse


BOOK IV.

KISHKINDHYÁ.



SÍTA-PUR, ON THE RIVER PAISUNI.
SÍTA-PUR, ON THE RIVER PAISUNI.

SÍTA-PUR, ON THE RIVER PAISUNI.

THE RÁMÁYANA

OF

TULSI DÁS.

BOOK IV.

KISHKINDHYÁ.

Sanskrit Invocation.

Beautiful as the jasmine or the lotus, of surpassing strength, storehouses of wisdom, all glorious and accomplished bowmen, hymned by the Vedas, benefactors of cows and Bráhmans, may they who appeared in the form of mortal men as the two noble sons of Raghu, the champions of true religion, the wayfarers intent on their search for Síta, may they grant us faith.

Blessed are the pious souls, who ever imbibe the nectar of holy Ráma's name; nectar, the product of no ocean, but of Brahm himself, the utter exterminator of all the impurities of this sinful age, the imperishable, the quintessence of the beauty of blessed Sambhu's moonlike face, the ever glorious, the remedy for all the diseases of life, the exquisitely sweet, the life of blessed Jánaki.

Sorathá 1.

How is it possible not to reverence Kási, the home of Sambhu and Bhaváni, knowing it to be the earthly birthplace of salvation, a treasury of knowledge and the destroyer of sin. Dull indeed of soul is the man who worships not him, who, when all the hosts of heaven were in distress, drank up the deadly poison; who is so merciful as Sankara?

Chaupái.

Ráma again proceeded on his way and drew near to the mountain Rishyamúka.[1] There Sugríva dwelt with his ministers, who, seeing them approach in all their immeasurable strength, was exceedingly alarmed and cried: "Hearken, Hanumán; take the form of a young Bráhman student and go and see who these two heroes are, of such remarkable strength and beauty, and when you have ascertained make some sign by which I may know also. If that wretch Báli has sent them, I must leave the hill and flee at once." The monkey assumed the form of a Bráhman and went to the place; there bowed his head and thus questioned them: "Who are you two knights of warrior mien, who roam this wood, one dark of hue, the other fair. The ground is rough for your soft feet to tread. What is the reason, my masters, that you visit this forest? Your body is too delicate and exquisitely beautiful to be exposed to the intolerable sun and wind of these wild regions. Who are you? A Person of the Trinity; or the two great gods Nara and Náráyan?[2]

Dohá 1.

Or has the lord of all the spheres become incarnate in your human form for the good of the world, to bridge the ocean of existence and relieve earth of its burdens?"

Chaupái.

"We are the sons of Dasarath, the king of Kosala, and have come into the forest in obedience to our father's command; Ráma, the name of one brother, and Lakshman of the other. With us was my young and beautiful bride, the daughter of the king of Videha. But some demon here has stolen her away; and it is she, O Bráhman, whom we are trying to find. We have told you our affairs, tell us now your own story." He recognized his lord and fell and clasped his feet with a joy, Umá, beyond all deseription. His body thrilled with emotion and all words failed his tongue, as he gazed upon the fashion of their ravishing disguise. At last he collected himself and burst forth into a hymn of praise with great joy of heart, for he had found his lord. "I asked, sire, in my ignorance; but why should you ask, as though you were a mere man. Under the influence of your delusive power I wandered in error, and therefore I did not at once recognize my lord.

Dohá 2.

In the first place I was a bewildered dullard, ignorant and perverse of soul, and then my gracious Lord God himself led me astray.

Chaupái.

Although, sire, my faults are many, yet a servant cannot anyhow be above his master. All created things are first fettered by your delusive power and then again set free by your grace. Therefore I make my cry to Raghubír, and know no other saving mode of prayer. As a servant has confidence in his master, or a child in its mother, so all dwell secure under the protection of the Lord." So saying, he fell in much agitation at his feet, and the love that filled his soul shewed itself in every part of his body. Then Raghupati raised him up and took him to his bosom, while his own eyes were flooded with tears of joy. "Hearken, O monkey; do not account yourself vile; you are second to Lakshman only in my affection; every one says that I have no respect of persons; any servant is beloved of me, and has a rank in heaven second to none.

Dohá 3.

For he, Hanumún, is second to none who never wavers in this faith, that he is the servant of the Lord God who is manifested in creation."

Chaupái.

When the Son of the Wind (i.e., Hanumán) saw his lord so gracious, he rejoiced at heart, and every anxiety was at an end. "The king of the monkeys, sire, lives on this rock, Sugríva by name, a servant of yours. In return for his submission you should make friends with him and set his mind at rest. He will have Síta tracked; for he will despatch millions of monkeys in every direction." In this manner he told them all the particulars and took them both with him and gave them stools to sit upon. When he saw Ráma, he thought it a great blessing to have been born. He reverentially advanced to meet him and bowed his head at his feet; and Raghunáth and his brother returned his courtesy. The monkey's mind was occupied with this thought, 'If God would only give me such allies!'

Dohá 4.

Hanumán then explained the circumstances of both sides: holy fire was made a witness, and a firm alliance concluded.

Chaupái.

When the alliance had been concluded, nothing was kept in reserve; Ráma and Lakshman told all their adventures. Sugríva's eyes were full of tears as he replied—"The daughter of the king of Mithilá will be recovered. One day when I was sitting here with my ministers deep in thought, I saw some one flying through the air, with a woman in his power, who was weeping piteously and crying 'Ráma, Ráma, O my Ráma!' When she saw me, she dropped her scarf." Ráma at once asked for it; he gave it him; he pressed the scarf to his bosom in the deepest distress. Said Sugríva: "Hearken, Raghubír; be not so distressed; take courage. I will do all in my power to serve you and recover Jánaki."

Dohá 5.

The All-merciful and Almighty rejoiced to hear his friend's speech. "Tell me, Sugríva, the reason why you are living in this forest."

Chaupái.

"My lord, Báli and I are two brothers; our mutual love was past all telling. The son of Maya, Máyávi by name, came to our town. In the middle of the night he shouted at the city-gate. Báli endures no enemy to set him at defiance and sallied forth. Seeing this he fled. Now I too accompanied my brother, and when he had gone into one of the caves of the mountain, Báli said to me: Wait for me a fortnight, and if I do not come then, conclude that I have been killed. I stayed there a whole month, Kharári; a tremendous stream of blood then flowed out; I made sure that Báli had been defeated and that the enemy would come and kill me too. I therefore closed the mouth of the cave with a rock and fled away. When the ministers of state saw the city without a master, they forced the government upon me, whether I would or no. When Báli, who had slain the foe, came home and saw me, he was greatly set against me and gave me a severe beating, as he would an enemy, and took from me everything that I had, together with my wife. For fear of him, O merciful Raghubír, I wander forlorn all over the world. The curse[3] prevents him from coming here, and yet I am ill at ease in mind." When the friend of the suppliant heard of his servant's troubles, his two mighty arms were uplifted with a convulsive motion.

Dohá 6.

"Hearken, Sugríva; I will slay Báli with a single arrow; though he take refuge with Brahma even, or Rudra, he shall not escape with his life.

Chaupái.

They, who are not distressed at the sight of a friend's distress, are guilty of grievous sin. They, who do not think it the most natural thing possible to regard as a mere grain of sand their own mountain-like troubles, while a friend's trouble, though really no bigger than a grain of sand, seems to them as weighty as mount Meru; such men are churls, upon whom it is useless to press friendship. To restrain from evil paths and to direct in the path of virtue; to publish all good qualities and conceal the bad; to give and take without any distrust of mind; to be always ready to assist with all one's power, and in time of misfortune to be a hundred times more affectionate than ever; such the seriptures declare to be the properties of a true friend. But one who speaks you fairly to your face, but behind your back is an enemy in the viciousness of his soul, whose mind, brother, is as tortuous as the movements of a snake, such a man is a bad friend, whom it is well to let alone. A dishonest servant, a miserly king, a false wife, and a treacherous friend, are four things as bad as the stake. Cease to distress yourself, friend; I will put forth all my strength to do your business for you." Said Sugríva: "Hearken, Raghubír; Báli is very strong and most resolute in battle," and he showed him Dundubhi's bones and the palm-trees.[4] Without an effort, Raghubír tossed them away. At this exhibition of boundless strength the affection of the monkey king was increased and he made sure of killing Báli. Again and again he bowed his head at his feet, in the greatest delight, knowing him to be the Lord. Knowledge sprung up in his soul, and he spoke and said: "By my lord's. favour my mind is set at rest; I will abandon pleasure, fortune, home, grandeur and all, to do you service; for all these things are hindrances to faith in Ráma, as the saints declare who are devoted to the worship of your feet.[5] All the friends and enemies, joys and sorrows of the world, are effects of delusion, and are not eternal realities. Báli is my greatest friend, by whose favour I have met you, O Ráma, destroyer of all sorrow; as when a man dreams that he has been fighting some one, and on waking and coming to his senses is ashamed of his illusion. Now, my lord, do me this favour that I may leave all and worship you, night and day." When Ráma heard the monkey's devout speech, he smiled and said, with his bow in his hand: "Whatever I have said is all true; my words, friend, cannot fail." O Garúr, Ráma, as the scriptures say, is the juggler who makes us all dance like so many monkeys. Sugriva then took Raghunáth away with him, who went with bow and arrows in hand. Afterwards he sent Sugríva on ahead, who went up close and roared with all his might. Báli, on hearing him, sprang up in a fury, but his wife clasped his feet in her hands and warned him: "Hearken, my lord, Sugríva's allies are two brothers of unapproachable majesty and might, the sons of the king of Kosala, Lakshman and Ráma, who would conquer in battle even Death himself."

Dohá 7.

Said Báli: "Hearken, timorous dame; Raghunáth is kind and the same to all; even if he kill me, he will still be my lord."

Chaupái.

So saying, he sallied forth in all his pride, thinking no more of Sugríva than of a blade of grass. The two joined combat; and Báli with a furious leap struck him a blow with his fist, which resounded like a clap of thunder. Sugríva at once fled in dismay; the stroke of his fist had fallen upon him as a bolt from heaven. "What did I say, O merciful Raghubír; this is no brother of mine but Death himself." "You two brothers are so much alike that for fear of mistake I did not shoot him." He then stroked Sugríva's body with his hands and his frame became as of adamant, and all his pain was gone. Next he put on his neck a wreath of flowers and sent him back with a large increase of strength. Again they fought in every kind of way, while Ráma, watched them from behind a tree.

Dohá 8.

When Sugríva had tried every trick and put forth all his strength and had given up in despair, Ráma drew an arrow and struck Báli in the heart, Chaupái. Struck by the shaft, he fell in dismay to the ground. Again he sat up and saw the Lord standing before him, dark of hue, with his hair fastened up in a knot on his head, and his eyes inflamed as they were when he fitted the arrow to his bow-string. Again and again as he gazed upon him, he laid his soul at his feet and accounted his life blessed: for he recognized his lord. Though his heart was full of affection, the words of his mouth were harsh, as he looked towards Ráma and said: "You have become incarnate, sire, for the advancement of religion, and yet you take my life, as a huntsman would that of a wild beast. I forsooth am an enemy and Sugríva a friend; yet for what fault have you killed me, my lord?" "Hearken, wretch; a younger brother's wife, a sister, a daughter-in-law and an unwedded maid are all alike: whoever looks upon one of them with an evil eye may be slain without any sin. Fool, in your extravagant pride you paid no heed to your wife's warning. You knew that he had taken refuge under the might of my arm, and yet in your wicked pride you wished to kill him."

Dohá 9.

"Hearken, Ráma; I dealt craftily with my lord; to-day, guilty as I am, I obtain, sire, at my death a place in heaven."

Chaupái.

When Ráma heard this most tender speech, he touched Báli's head with his hands: "I restore the soundness of your body; retain your life." Said Báli: "Hearken, All-merciful; the saints are born again and again and labour throughout their life, and yet even to the last Ráma never comes near them. But he, the everlasting, by the virtue of whose name Sankara at Kási bestows heaven upon all alike, has come in visible form before my very eyes; can I ever, my lord, have such a chance again?

Chhand 1.

He has become visible to my eyes, whose praises the scriptures are all unequal to declare, to whom scarcely the saints attain after profound contemplation accompanied by laborious suppression of the breath,[6] abstraction of soul, and control of the senses. Seeing me the victim of excessive pride, the Lord has told me to retain my body. But who would be such a fool as to insist upon cutting down the tree of paradise and watering a wild babúl tree? Now, my lord, look upon me with compassion and grant me the boon I beg; whatever the womb, in which it be my fate to be born, may I ever cherish a special devotion to the feet of Ráma. O my lord, take this my son Angad and grant him like discretion, power and prosperity ; grasp him by the hand, O king of gods and men, and make him your servant."

Dohá 10.

After making a fervent act of devotion to Ráma's feet, Báli's soul left the body; as placidly as when a wreath of flowers drops from an elephant's neck without his knowing it;

Chaupái.

And Ráma dismissed him to his own heavenly mansion. All the people of the city ran together in dismay, and Tárá with dishevelled hair and tottering frame broke out into wild lamentation. When Raghurái saw her distress, he imparted to her wisdom and dispersed her delusion. "The body, which is composed of the elements, earth, water, fire, air and ether,[7] is of no value. The mortal frame, which you see before you, sleeps; but the soul is eternal; why then do you weep?" True understanding sprung up in her mind; she embraced his feet and received the boon that she asked, a perfect faith. O Umá, the lord Ráma dances us all up and down like so many puppets. Then he gave orders to Sngríva and he performed all the funeral rites with due ceremony. Ráma next directed his brother to go and celebrate Sugriva's installation. He bowed his head at Raghupati's feet and went forth, he and all whom Ráma had commissioned to accompany him.

Dohá 11.

Lakshman immediately summoned the citizens and the council of Bráhmans, and invested Sugríva with the sovereignty and appointed Angad Prince Imperial.

Chaupái.

O Umá, there is no such friend as Ráma in the world, neither guru, nor father, nor mother, nor kinsman, nor lord. It is the way with all other gods, men and saints, to make friends for selfish purposes; but the generous Raghubir, from mere natural kindness, made Sugríva king of the monkeys, when he was trembling all day and all night in such fear of Báli that there was no colour left in his face and his heart was burnt up with anxiety. I know this, that any man, who deserts such a lord, must needs be caught in the meshes of calamity. Ráma then sent for Sugríva and instructed him in all the principles of state-craft, and added: "Hearken, Sugríva, lord of the monkey race; I may not enter a city for fourteen years. The hot weather is now over and the rains have set in. I will encamp on the hills close by. Do you with Angad reign in royal state; bnt remain ever mindful of my interests." Sugriva then returned to the palace, while Ráma remained in camp on mount Pravarshana.[8]

Dohá 12.

The gods had beforehand made and kept for him a charming cave in the mountain, knowing that the all-merciful Ráma would come and stay there for somo days.

Chaupái.

The magnificent forest was a most charming sight, with the trees all in flower and the swarms of buzzing bees gathering honey. From the time that the Lord came, every plant and fruit and every kind of agreeable foliage was forthcoming in profusion. Seeing the incomparable beauty of the hill, the Lord and his brother rested there. In the form of bees, birds and deer, the gods, saints and seers came and did service to their lord. From the time that Lakshmi's spouse took up his abode in it, forest became a picture of felicity. There the two brothers sat at ease on the bright and glistening crystal rock, and the younger was told many a tale inculcating faith, self-governance, state-craft and wisdom. What with clouds that ever canopied the heavens and the frequent thunder, the season of the rains seemed a most delightful time.

Dohá 13.

"See, Lakshman, how the peacocks dance at the sight of the clouds, like a householder, enamoured of asceticism, who rejoices when he finds a true believer in Vishnu.

Chaupái.

Clouds gather in the sky and thunders roar; but my darling is gone and my soul is in distress.[9] The lightning flashes fitfully amid the darkness, like the friendship of the vile which never lasts. The pouring clouds cleave close to the ground, as sages stoop beneath accumulated lore. The mountain endures the buffeting of the storm, as the virtuous bear the abuse of the wicked. The flooded streamlets rush proudly along, like mean men puffed up with a little wealth. The water by its contact with the earth becomes as muddy as the soul when environed by delusion. The lakes swell gradually and imperceptibly, like as when the quality of goodness developes in a good man; and the rivers flow into the bosom of the ocean, like as the soul, that has found Hari, is at rest for ever.

Dohá 14.

The green earth is so choked with grass that the paths can no longer be distinguished, like holy books obscured by the wrangling of heretics.

Chaupái.

On all sides there is a lively croaking of frogs, like a party of Bráhman students repeating the Vedas. All the trees put forth their new leaves, like pious souls that have come to matured wisdom. The ák and jawása plants lose their leaves: as in a well-governed realm the schemes of the wicked come to nought. Search as you like, the dusty foot-path is no longer to be traced; like as when religion is put out of sight by passion. The earth rich with crops makes as goodly a show as the prosperity of the benevolent. The fire-flies glitter in the darkness of the cloudy night, like a mustered band of hypocritical pretenders. The ridges of the fields are broken down by the heavy rains, like women ruined by too much license. The diligent cultivators weed their lands, like philosophers who root up ignorance, vanity and pride. The chakwá and other birds are nowhere to be seen, like virtue that fled at the coming of the iron age. However much it may rain, no grass springs upon barren ground; so lust takes no root in the heart of Hari's worshippers. The earth gleams with swarms of living creatures of every kind; so the people multiply under good government. Here and there weary wayfarers stay and rest, like a man's bodily senses after the attainment of wisdom.

Dohá 15.

At times a strong wind disperses the clouds in all directions, like the birth of a bad son, who destroys all the pious practices of his family.

Chaupái.

Now the rains are over and the season of autumn has returned; see Lakshman, how exquisitely beautiful everything is. The whole earth is covered with the flowering káns grass, as though the rains had exposed its old age. The rising of Canopus[10] has dried up the water on the roads, like as greed is dried up by contenment. The surface of every river and lake is as pure and bright as is the soul of the saints devoid of all vanity and delusion; drop by drop their depths are diminished, like as the enlightened gradually lose all notions of self. The wagtails know the autumn season and come out once more, like virtuous deeds in an auspicious time. There is neither mud nor dust; the earth is as brilliant as the administration of a king, who is well versed in state policy. The fish are distressed by the shrinking of the water, like improvident men of family by the loss of money. The unclouded sky shines as bright as a worshipper of Hari, who has discarded every other patron. Here and there is a slight autumn shower, like the faith of one who is not yet fully persuaded.

Dohá 16.

Kings and ascetics, merchants and mendicants, leave the city and go their way with joy, like men in any of the four stages of life,[11] who cease to labour when they have once attained to faith in Hari.

Chaupái.

Where the water is deep, the fish are as glad as men who have taken refuge with Hari and have not a single trouble. The lakes, with their flowering lotuses, are as beaatiful as the immaterial Supreme Spirit when clothed with a material form. The garrulous bees make a wonderful buzzing, and the birds a charming concert of diverse sounds; but the chakwá is as sad of soul to see the night, as a bad man at the sight of another's prosperity. The chátak cries out from excess of thirst, like a rebel against Mahádev, who knows no rest. The moon by night subdues the autumnal heat of the sun, like as the sight of a saint expels sin. Flocks of partridges fix their gaze upon the moon, as Hari's worshippers look only to Hari. Mosquitoes and gadflies are driven away by the terrors of winter, like as a family is destroyed by the sin of persecuting Bráhmans.

Dohá 17.

Under the influence of the autumn, earth is rid of its insect swarms, as a man, who has found a good teacher, is relieved from all doubt and error.

Chaupái.

The rains are over and the clear season has come, but I have had no news, brother, of Sita. If I could only once anyhow get tidings of her, I would in an instant recover her out of the hands of even Death himself. Wherever she may be, if only she still lives, brother, I would make an effort to rescue her. Sugríva has forgotten all about me, now that he has got back his kingdom and treasure, his city and his queen. Fool that he is, I will to-morrow slay him with the selfsame arrow with which I slew Báli." He, by whose favour, Umá, pride and delusion are dissipated, could never even dream of being angry. Only enlightened saints can understand these actions of his, who have a hearty devotion to the feet of Raghubír. Lakshman believed his lord was angry, and strung his bow and took his arrows in his hands.

Dohá 18.

Then the all-merciful Raghupati instructed his brother, saying: "Frighten our friend Sugríva and bring him here."

Chaupái.

Now the Son of the Wind also had thought to himself, Sugríva has forgotten all about Ráma.' So he went near and bowed his head at his feet and reminded him of the four modes. of making war.[12] As Sugríva listened, he became much alarmed: "Sensual pleasures have robbed me of all my understanding. Now, O Hanumán, despach a multitude of spies, legions of monkeys, in every direction, and tell them that any one, who is not back in a fortnight, shall meet his death at my hands." Hanumán then summoned envoys, and showed them all special honour, making use of threats, blandishments and motives of policy. They all bowed their head at his feet and set forth. At that very time Lakshman entered the city. Seeing him to be angry, the monkeys all ran away.

Dohá 19.

He twanged his bow and cried 'I will burn the city to ashes.' Then came Báli's son, seeing the distress of the people,

Chaupái.

and bowed his head at his feet and made humble petition, till Lakshman assured him he had nought to fear. When the monkey king heard tell of Lakshman's wrath, he was terribly alarmed: "Hearken, Hanumán; take Tárá with you and with suppliant prayers appease the prince." Hanumán went with Tárá and fell at his feet, and after hymning his lord's praises, respectfully conducted him to the palace and bathed his feet and seated him on a couch. The monkey king also bowed his head at his feet, but Lakshman took him by the hand and embraced him. "There is nothing, my lord, so intoxicating as pleasure; in a single moment it infatuates even the soul of a saint." On hearing this humble speech, Lakshman was glad and said ererytbing to reassure him, while Hanumán told him all that had been done and how a multitude of spies had already started.

Dohá 20.

Then Sugríva with Angad and the other monkeys went forth with joy, preceded by Lakshman, and arrived in Ráma's presence.

Dohá 1.

With folded hands he bowed his head at his feet and cried: "My lord, it has been no fault of mine. Your delusive power, sire, is so strong that only Ráma's favour can disperse it. Gods and men, saints and kings are mastered by their senses; and I am but a poor brute beast, a monkey, one of the most libidinous of animals. A man who is invulnerable by the arrow of a woman's eye, who remains wakeful through the dark night of angry passion, and whose neck has never been bound by the halter of covetousness, is your equal, O Raghurái. It is a virtue not attainable by any religious observances; it is only by your grace that one here and one there can accomplish it." Then Raghupati smiled and said: "You are as dear to me as my own brother Bharat. Now take thought and make an effort to get tidings of Sita."

Dohá 21.

While they were yet thus speaking, the troops of monkeys arrived, of all colours and from all parts of the world, a monkey host marvellous to behold.

Chaupái.

I, Uma, saw this army of monkeys; only a fool would try to count them. They came and bowed the head at Ráma's feet and gazing upon his face found in him their true lord. In the whole host there was not a single monkey to whom Ráma did not give separate greeting. This is no great miracle for the lord Raghurái, who is omnipresent and all-pervading. They all stood as they were told, rank after rank, while Sugríva thus spoke and instructed them: "In Ráma's behoof and at my request go forth ye monkey hosts in every direction. Make search for Janak's daughter, my brethren, and return within a month. Whoever comes back, at the end of the time without any news shall die at my hands."

Dohá 22.

No sooner had they heard this speech than all the monkeys started at once in every direction. Sugríva then called Angad, Nila and Hanumán:

Chaupái.

"Hearken, Nila, Angad and Hanumún, and you, O staunch and sagacious Jámbaván; go ye together, all ye gallant warriors, to the south and ask every one for news of Síta. Strain every faculty to devise some way of accomplishing Ráma's object. The sun is content with back service and the fire with front, but a master must be served back and front alike, without any subterfuges.[13] Discard the unrealities of the world and consider the future; so shall all the troubles connected with existence be destroyed. This is the end, brother, for which we were born, to worship Ráma without any desire for self. He only is truly discriminative, he only is greatly blessed, who is enamoured of the feet of Raghubír." After begging permission to depart and bowing the head at his feet they set out with joy, invoking Raghurái. The last to make obeisance was Hanumán. The lord, knowing what would happen, called him near and with his lotus hands touched his head and gave him his ring off his finger, for he knew his devotion: "Say everything to comfort Síta, telling her of my might and my constancy, and come quickly." Hanumán thought himself happy to have been born and set forth, with the image of the All-merciful impressed upon his heart. Although the Lord knows everything, he observes the rules of state-craft in his character as the champion of the gods.

Dohá 23.

They went forth searching every wood, river, lake, and mountain cave, with their soul so absorbed in Ráma's concerns that they forgot all about their own bodily wants.

Chaupái.

Wherever it might be that they came across a demon, they took his life with a single blow. They looked into every recess of forest and hill, and if they met any hermit they all surrounded him. Overcome by thirst they were dreadfully distrest, and losing their way in the dense jungle, could find no water. Hanumán thought to himself "without water to drink we shall all die." He climbed a mountain peak and, looking all round about, spied a strange opening in the ground; with geese, herons and swans on the wing and all kinds of birds making their way into it. Then Hanumán came down from the mountain and took them all and showed them this cavern, and with him to lead the way they lost no time, but entered the chasm.

Dohá 24.

A grove and beautiful lake came in sight with many flowering lotuses and a magnificent temple where a holy woman[14] was sitting.

Chaupái.

From a distance they all bowed the head before her and made enquiry and explained their circumstances. She then said: "Take water to drink and eat at will of this luscious and beautiful fruit." They bathed and eat of the sweet fruit and then all came and drew near to her, and told her all their adventures. "I will now go to Raghuráí; close your eyes and so leave the cave; you will recover Síta, do not fear." The warriors closed their eyes, and when they again opened them they were all standing on the shore of the ocean. But she went to Raghunáth and came and bowed her head at his lotus feet, and made much supplication. The lord bestowed upon her imperishable faith.

Dohá 25.

In obedience to the Lord's commands she went to the Badri forest, cherishing in her heart Ráma's feet, the adoration of the eternal Siva.

Chaupái.

Now the monkeys were thinking to themselves: "The appointed time has passed and nothing has been done." So they all came together and asked one another, "there is no news, brother; what are we to do?" Angad's eyes were full of tears as he replied: "It is death for us either way. Here we have failed to get tidings of Síta, and if we go home our king will slay us. After my father's death he would have killed me, had not Ráma protected me, no thanks to him." Again and again Angad told them all: "It is a case of death without a doubt." When the monkey chiefs heard Angad's words, they could make no answer, tears streamed from their eyes. For a moment they were overwhelmed with despair, but at last they all spoke and said "unless we get news of Sita we will not return, O sagacious prince." So saying the monkeys all went to the seashore, where they spread beds of kusa grass and sat down. But Jámbaván, seeing Angad's distress, addressed him with a discourse of appropriate admonition: "My son, do not imagine Ráma to be a man; know that he is the invisible god, unconquerable and from everlasting. All we who are his servants are most highly blessed in our love for the eternal God thus made incarnate.

Dohá 26.

Of his own free will the Lord has manifested himself on behalf of gods, Bráhmans, cows and Earth, and remains in bodily form among his worshippers,having abandoned all the joys of heaven."

Chaupái.

He exhorted him in this wise at great length, and Sampáti from his cave in the mountain heard him. When he came out and saw the multitude of monkeys, he cried: "God has provided me with a feast. I will eat them all up at once; I am dying for, want of a meal these many days past. I have never yet had a good bellyfull, but to-day God has supplied me for once and all." The monkeys trembled to hear the vulture's words, 'we were right in saying to-day we must die.' At the sight of him they all rose up, and Jámbaván was mightily disturbed at heart; but Angad, after thinking to himself, exclaimed: "Glory to Jatáyu, there is none like him, who gave up his life in Ráma's service and, blessed beyond measure, has been translated to Hari's sphere in heaven." When the bird heard these words of mingled joy and sadness, he drew near to the monkeys in alarm and after assuring them of safety began to question them. They told him the whole history. When Sampáti heard of his brother's doings, he gave great glory to Raghupati.

Dohá 27.

"Take me to the sea-shore and make him an offering of sesamum seeds; with the help of my instructions you shall recover her whom you seek."

Chaupái.

When he had completed the funeral rites for. his brother on the seashore, he told them his own history. "Hearken, monkey chiefs. We two brothers in our first youth mounted into the heaven, winging our way towards the sun. He could not endure its splendour and turned back, but I in my pride went closer. My wings were scorched by the excessive heat, and I fell to the earth uttering fearful cries. A saint, by name Chandrama,[15] was moved with compassion when he saw me, and instructed me in all kinds of knowledge and rid me of my inveterate pride. "In the Treta age God will take the form of a man, and his spouse will be carried off by the king of the demons. The Lord will send out spies to search for her, and if you join them you will be purified. Your wings will sprout again, fear not, when you have found them Síta." The saint's prophecy has come true to-day. Hearken to my words and set about your lord's business. On the top of mount Trikút is the city of Lanká; there lives Rávan in absolute security and there, in a grove of Asoka trees, sits Síta, a prey to grief.

Dohá 28.

I see her, though you cannot; a vulture's sight has no bounds. I am now old, or else I would have given you some assistance.

Chaupái.

If any one of you can leap over a hundred leagues of sea, he will do Ráma's business for him very cleverly. Look at me and reassure yourselves; see how my body has been restored by Ráma's favour. Any wretch, who invokes his name, is able to cross the vast and boundless ocean of existence and you are his messengers; have then no fear, but with Ráma's image impressed upon your soul, concert your plans." So saying, Garúr, the vulture left them, and their soul was in the greatest amazement. Each one vaunted his own strength, but doubted whether he could leap across. Said the king of the bears, "I am now too old and not a particle of my former strength is left in my body; when Kharári took his three strides,[16] then I was young and full of vigour.

Dohá 29.

As he fettered Bali, the lord increased in stature to an indescribable size, but in less than an hour I ran round him seven times."

Chaupái.

Angad said: "I will leap across; but I am rather doubtful about getting back again. Then said Jámbaván: "You are quite competent; but why should we send our leader? Hearken Hanumán," added the king of the bears, "why is our champion so silent? You are the son of the wind and strong as your sire, a storehouse of good sense, discretion and knowledge; in all the world what undertaking is there so difficult that you, my son, cannot accomplish it? and it is on Ráma's account that you have come down upon earth." On hearing this he swelled to the size of a mountain, with a body of golden hue and of dazzling splendour, as though a very monarch of mountains, and roaring again and again as it were a lion, cried "I can easily spring across the salt abyss, and slay Rávan with all his army, and uproot Trikút and bring it here. But I ask you, Jámbaván, what I ought to do; give me proper instructions." "All that you have to do, my son, is to go and see Síta and come back with the news. Then the lotus-eyed, by the might of his own arm, taking with him merely for a show his hosts of monkeys,

Chhand 2.

With his hosts of monkeys Ráma will destroy the demons and recover Síta; and gods and saints and Nárad and all will declare his glory, that sanctifies the three spheres." Any man attains the highest beatitude who hears, sings, tells or meditates upon the feet of Raghubír, lotus flowers which, like the bee, Tulsi Dás is ever singing.

Dohá 30.

If any man or woman will study the glories of Raghunáth, the panacea for all the ills of life, Siva will make him to prosper in everything that he desires.

Sorathá 2.

Hearken then to his praises, with his body dark of hue as the lotus, with more than all the beauty of a myraid Loves, the fowler who sweeps into his net all kinds of sin as it were so many birds.

[Thus endeth the Book entitled "Kishkindhyá," composed by Tulsi Dás for the bestowal of pure wisdom and continence; being the fourth descent into the holy lake of Ráma's deeds, that cleanses from every defilement of the world.]


  1. The mountain Rishyamúka derives its name from Rishya, a kind of antelope.
  2. Nara, the original or eternal Man, the divine imperishable spirit that pervades the universe, is always associated with Náráyana, which, as a patronymic from Nara, means the 'Son of the original Man.' In Manu, I. 10, Nara is apparently identified with Náráyana: the waters, it is said, being called, Nárá as produced from Nara, the eternal Spirit, or Paramátma, which is also styled Náráyana, as having its first place of motion on the waters. In the more systematic theology Nara and Náráyana are distinct, the former being regarded as a sage or patriarch, while the latter is a god. In epic poetry they are the sons of Dharma by Múrti, or Ahinsá, and are emanations of Vishnu, Arjuna being identified with Nara and Krishna with Náráyana. In some places Nara and Náráyana are called devau, 'the two gods', or purva-devau, the two original gods', or rishí, 'the two sages', or puránav risht—sattamau, 'the two most ancient and best of sages,' or tapasau, 'the two ascetics', or mahá-muni, 'the two great munis.'—Monier Williams, sub verbo.
  3. When Báli had slain the demon Dundubhi, who had attacked him in the form of a bull, he hurled the body away, and a drop of blood fell in the hermitage of the Rishi Matanga, who thereupon pronounced a curse upon Báli, that if ever he came that way he should at once die.
  4. This montion of 'palm-trees' would not be intelligible without a reference to the Sanskrit Rámáyana. There it is told how after Ráma by a slight touch of his foot had sent flying a hundred leagues through the air the giant Dundubhi's enormous skeleton, Sugríva still doubted whether he were a match in strength for Báli, who had hurled the body an equal distance, while it was still clothed with flesh and therefore of much greater weight. To convince him Ráma shot an arrow from his bow, which cleft seven palm-trees that stood in a line one after the other, pierced the hill behind them and sped downwards to the nethermost hell, whence again it returned and dropt into the quiver at Ráma's side, from which it had been taken.
  5. Avarádhak, 'a worshipper,' is for árádhak, from the root rádh, 'to propitiate,' with the intensive prefix á. In the Hindi glossaries it is explained by sevak, 'a servant,' as if connected with avara.
  6. The eight means of mental concentration (according to Patanjali, the founder of the Yoga system of philosophy) are Yama, 'forbearance,' 'restraint'; Niyama, 'religious observances'; Ásana, 'postures'; Pránayáma, 'suppression of the breath', or 'breathing in a peculiar way'; Pratyahára, 'restraint of the senses'; Dhárana, 'steadying of the mind'; Dhyána, 'contemplation'; and Sámádhi, 'profound meditation,' or rather, a state of religious trance.—Monier Williams
  7. Ákása, 'ether,' is the subtle and ethereal fluid, supposed to fill and pervade the universe and to be the peculiar vehicle of life and of sound—Williams.
  8. In the Sanskrit Rámáyana the hill is called Prasravana; but the two words bear much the same meaning. The text might also be translated, 'remained on the hill during the early rains.'
  9. In England a cloudy sky is associated with gloomy ideas, and the bright sunshine with every-thing that is cheerful. But in India it is the reverse. When the clouds gather and thunder is heard, every one rejoices at the prospect of rain.
  10. The heliacal rising of the constellation Agastya, i.e., Canopus, takes place on the seventh day after the new moon of Bhádon, in the rainy season.
  11. The four stages of life, through which every Bráhman should pass, are 1st, that of the Brahmachári, or student; 2nd, that of the Grihastha, or house-holder; 3rd, that of the Vánaprastha, or anchorite; and 4th, that of the Bhikshu, or mendicant.
  12. The four upáyas, or modes of making war, are, sowing dissension, negotiation, bribery and open force.
  13. In this line there is no difference of reading in any of the MSS., but the precise meaning of the words is obscure and the Pandits interpret themin as many as 22 different ways. The translation given above exactly preserves the vagueness of the original. One of the alternative renderings is, 'as the flint nourishes fire in its bosom, so should one serve a master;' but I do not know of any parallel passage where bhánu-píth is used in the sense of 'a flint.'
  14. In the Sanskrit Rámáyana her name is given as Swayamprabhá, 'the self-shining.'
  15. In the Sanskrit Rámáyana he is called Nisákara, the night-maker, which also, like Chandrama, is a name for the moon.
  16. The allusion is to Vishnu's incarnation as a dwarf, which was the fifth in order, that as Ráma being the seventh.