Chapter 93 - Ravana’s Grief on hearing of his Son’s Death

Paulastya’s ambassadors, having learnt of Indrajita’s death and confirmed it, conveyed the tidings to Dashagriva in all haste, saying:—

“O Great King, Thine illustrious son has been slain by Lakshmana, who was accompanied by Bibishana; we were witness thereof I That hero, confronted by a hero, measured his strength with Lakshmana’s 1 Your son, undefeated in any combat, he who triumphed over the Gods with Indra at their head, has gone to the Celestial Regions, having been overwhelmed by Lakshmana’s shafts! "

Hearing of the terrible, cruel and grievous end of his son on the battlefield, that bull among the titans swooned away and only came to himself after a long time.

Distracted with grief on account of his son’s death, that unfortunate one, beside himself, burst into lamentation, crying:—

“O You, the Conqueror of Indra, how hast you suffered thyself to be overcome by Lakshmana this day? In your wrath, wast you not able to strike down Kala and Antaka themselves with your shafts, as also the peak of the Mandara Mountain? How much more was it possible for you to strike down Laksh-mana in the fight? Hereafter the King of Death will be held in greater reverence by me, since to-day he has brought you under the sway of destiny, O Long-armed Warrior! Even among the Celestial Host, this is the path trodden by those skilful warriors who wage a brave fight! He who is slain in the service of his lord goes to the heavenly regions. Seeing Indrajita slain this day, the Gods and all the Guardians of the World, free from anxiety will sleep in peace! Now the Three Worlds and the entire earth with its woods appears deserted to me without the only Indrajita. To-day I shall hear the cries of the youthful daughters of the Nairritas in the private apartments, like unto the roar of elephants in a mountain cave. O Hero, where hast you gone, relinquishing your right to the throne, to Lanka, the titans, your mother, myself and your consorts? Assuredly, I should have preceded you to the abode of death so that I might have received those honours due to the departed, offered up by you, but the contrary has taken place, O Hero! Why do Sugriva, Lakshmana and Raghava still live and why hast you deserted me ere you had rid me of this triple thorn?”

Having first lamented thus, Ravana, the King of the Titans was overcome with a violent rage on account of the death of Indrajita and the grief at losing his son increased the fire of anger within him who was irascible by nature, as in the summer months the rays of the sun become more intense. From his halfopened mouth, he seemed to breathe forth flame and smoke in his rage, as Vritra formerly from his, and his eyes, naturally red, were further inflamed with ire, glowing in dreadful wise. Under the sway of anger, his aspect, ever a source of terror, caused him to resemble the enraged Rudra! Tears fell from the eyes of that infuriated monster like boiling oil from two flaming lamps. Grinding his teeth, he made a sound like unto the revolving of the rod with which the Gods and Danavas churned the milky ocean. Mad with anger, like unto Antaka eager to devour all bangs animate or inanimate, he allowed his gaze to wander over the four quarters of the horizon nor did any titan dare approach him, and in a transport of rage the King of the Titans, seated amidst his warriors, in order to excite their ardour, said:—

“Having practised penance for thousands of years and gratified Svyambhu on countless occasions, as the fruit of mine austerities, he accorded me complete immunity from Devas and Asuras.

“Brahma bestowed a coat of mail, that gleamed like the sun, on me which, in my conflicts with the Gods and Asuras, none of my foes, though armed with thunderbolts, were able to shatter. To-day, clad in that armour and mounted on my chariot of war, who will dare to withstand me, be it Purandara himself?

“The great bow with its arrows bestowed on me when I gratified Svyambhu, after an encounter with Devas and Asuras, that redoubtable bow will be drawn by me to the sound of countless musical instruments, in a mighty battle, to Rama and Lakshmana’s destruction!”

Tormented by the death of his son, the ferocious Ravana, overpowered by anger, having reflected within himself, resolved to slay Sita. Rolling his reddened eyes, that cruel and terrible titan, in his anguish, said in the presence of all the Rangers of the Night, in plaintive tones:—

“My unfortunate son, in order to deceive the monkeys, having had recourse to magic, showed them an illusory corpse, saying:—‘This is Sita!’ Verily it shall become a reality! I shall slay Vaidehi who is devoted to that evil wretch 1”

Having spoken thus, he seized hold of a sword that was well-tempered and bright as the stainless sky and rushed out in haste surrounded by his wives and counsellors. Ravana, whose heart was torn with grief on account of his son, taking up his sword, rushed out to find Maithili and seeing the king setting out in a great rage, the titans emitted leonine roars and embracing each other, said:—

“To-day we shall see those two brothers humbled! In his anger, Ravana has overcome the four Guardians of the World and countless others have fallen under his blows; the Three Worlds have yielded up their treasure to him whose prowess and valour have no equal on earth!”

As they were speaking thus, Ravana, in a transport of rage, was rushing to where Sita was to be found in the Ashoka Grove, and, though his friends sought to restrain him, he ran on, as in the sky the planet Rahu bears down on Rohini.

The irreproachable Maithili, in the midst of the female titans who guarded her, beholding that furious titan with a great sword, was seized with terror, and the daughter of Janaka, Sita, seeing him continue to advance with that weapon upraised, though his friends sought to restrain him, in the height of misery, wailing, uttered these words:—

“Beholding that wicked wretch rushing upon me in fury, I, who am defenceless but who yet have a defender, fear that he intends to slay me! Despite my loyalty to my lord, he entreated me again and again, saying ‘Be my consort’ and I constantly repulsed him. My refusal has assuredly caused him to give way to despair and, in a transport of fury, he is preparing to slay me. Or it may be that those two tigers among men, those brothers, Rama and Lakshmana, have, on my account, been cut down to-day on the battlefield. I hear a great clashing of gongs and the exultant shouts of innumerable people rejoicing! Woe is me, the two princes have died for me or else this titan of cruel intent has come to slay me on account of grief over his son or he has been unable to slay Rama and Lakshmana! Why did I not follow Hanuman’s counsel, miserable creature that lam! If I had departed, seated on his back, I should now be resting happily in the lap of my lord. Assuredly Kaushalya’s heart will break when she learns that her son has perished in the fight and, weeping, she will recollect the birth, childhood, youth, virtuous deeds and beauty of that magnanimous hero. Overcome with despair, having offered up the obsequies in honour of her dead son, distracted with grief, she will ascend the funeral pyre or cast herself into the river. Cursed be that wicked hunch-back Manthara and her sinister counsels; it is she who is the cause of the sufferings which will overwhelm Kaushalya.”

Hearing the unfortunate Maithili lamenting thus, she, who resembled Rohini fallen under the sway of Rahu in the absence of the Moon, a virtuous and honest counsellor, the sagacious Suparshva, seeking with his companions to restrain Ravana, the King of the Titans, said to him:—

“Why, O Dashagriva, dost you, the younger brother of Vaishravana himself, seek to put Vaidehi to death in an access of rage, disregarding the law? You who art a student of the Veda, who hast been purified by pious observances and who delightest in the scriptures, how art you able to harbour the thought of slaying a woman? O Valiant Monarch of the Titans, spare the beautiful Maithili and loose the vials of your wrath on that man, entering into combat with him with our aid. This is the fourteenth day of the dark fortnight and to-morrow, on the day of the new moon, march to victory surrounded by your forces. Courageous, armed with your sword, in thine excellent chariot, a mighty car-warrior, you shalt cut down the terrible Dasarathi and take possession of Mithila’s daughter!”

Thereupon the wicked and powerful Ravana, giving ear to the judicious words of his devoted counsellor, returned to the palace and re-entered the assembly hall surrounded by his friends.