Chapter 74 - Prince Bharata laments

[Full title: Prince Bharata laments the death of his father and the exile of Shri Rama].

Shri Bharata denounced his mother in great anger, saying:—

“O Cruel-hearted One, O Wicked Being, you are without virtue, enter the forest, I am about to die 1 Weep for me; since you have deserted your consort, do not mourn for him. Tell me, what harm had the king or the most virtuous Rama done to you, that you have slain the one and exiled the other? O Kaikeyi, the sin by which you have destroyed the dynasty is equal to the murder of a brahmin! Do you enter hell! You have no right to inhabit the region to which the king has gone! Your deed and guilt are infamous. In denouncing Rama, who is beloved of all the world, you have secured me a kingdom, but brought me ignominy. You are the cause of my father’s death and the exile of Rama, and also of my dishonour. Your heart is adamant, you are not my mother but an enemy in the form of a mother! O Slayer of your husband, you dost not merit that one should address you! O Defamer of the fair name of this dynasty, you are the cause of distress to my mothers, Queen Kaushalya and Sumitra! You have forfeited the title of daughter to the great King Ashvapati; you are surely a demon born in that family to destroy my father’s line! You have banished Rama to the forest, he, who ever delighted in virtue and you have deprived my illustrious father of his life! It is I who must bear the weight of thine iniquity, who am fatherless, bereft of my two brothers and an object of universal loathing! O You Sinner, O Traveller on the path of self-destruction, say what state shalt you attain, who hast deprived the virtuous Kaushalya of her husband and her son? O Evil One, didst you not know that Shri Rama was the chief asylum of his relatives, the son of Kaushalya and a father to me? All relatives are dear, but to a mother, the son is dearest, since he is born of the body and heart of the father. Hast you forgotten this truth?”

In ancient times, the cow Kamadhenu, worshipped by the gods, beholding two of her sons, weary with ploughing, swooned away. At that time, the King of the Celestials, Indra, was wandering on the earth and the fragrant tears of Kamadhenu fell upon him. Experiencing the sweet odour issuing from the body of the sacred cow, Indra realised her superior worth and startled, looked upward and beheld, in the sky, the afflicted Kamadhenu, weeping piteously. The Bearer of the Mace, distressed on seeing the renowned Kamadhenu shedding tears, addressed her with humility and said: “O Benefactor of the World, why dost you weep? Is it the premonition of some future calamity which causes you to lament thus?”

The wise Kamadhenu, patiently answered: “O Devaraj, you have no cause for fear, I am afflicted on account of the suffering of two of my sons. See, how wretched they are, how wasted and oppressed by the sun’s heat! O Devaraj! The ploughman has struck them cruelly! Born of my body, I am filled with grief to see them yoked to the heavy plough! Verily nothing is dearer to a mother than her son.”

Indra, perceiving that the cow mourned over the wretched state of two of her innumerable sons, recognised that to a mother nothing is dearer than a son!

“O Mother, Kamadhenu extends her blessings equally to all and has the power to fulfil the desires of others. If she, who is constantly producing thousands of offspring, filled with maternal love, mourns thus for two sons, how then, O Kaikeyi, will Kaushalya bear the exile of her only son? You have brought about the separation of Rama from his mother Kaushalya and for this you shalt not know happiness in this or in the other world! I shall perform the last rites for my sire and then, with my heart and soul serve my brother and carefully promote his honour. Having brought back Shri Rama to the capital, I, myself, shall inhabit the forest. O You, of evil intent, how shall I endure thine iniquity, when looked on by the people of the capital with sorrow-stricken gaze? Now it befits you to enter the fire or hang thyself in the Dandaka forest, death alone is your desert! Only when Rama returns and that Prince of Truth is by my side, shall I find peace and my purpose be accomplished!”

Bharata, lamenting and breathing like a serpent, fell to the earth like an elephant tormented by the goad. His eyes red with anger, his dress loosened, his jewels cast aside, he fell like the banner of Indra, uprooted at the close of a ceremony.