Chapter 113 - The Lamentations of Ravana’s Consorts

Hearing that Ravana had fallen under the blows of the highly powerful Raghava, the female titans, like unto cows which have lost their calves, overcome with grief, their hair dishevelled, rushed out of the inner apartments and, though restrained, rolled in the dust again and again. Issuing from the northern gateway with their attendants, they entered that dreadful battlefield searching for their dead lord and cried out, ‘O Our King, Our Support’, running hither and thither on the ground that was covered with headless trunks, mud and gore. Their eyes full of tears, overcome with grief, they emitted cries like unto female elephants who have lost the leader of the herd.

Then they beheld that great and exceedingly powerful and illustrious Ravana, their lord, lying in the dust and they immediately all fell upon his body like creepers that have been torn down in the forest. In a transport of passion, one embraced him sobbing, one pressed his feet, one hung on his neck, whilst another, beating the air with her arms, rolled on the ground and yet another, gazing on her dead lord, swooned away, and one, laying her head in his lap, wept as she looked on him, her tears bathing his face, as rime covers a lotus flower.

Beholding their lord lying stretched on the earth, in their despair, they emitted continual cries of pain as their lamentations increased—‘He of whom Shakra himself stood in awe, he who was the source of terror to Yama, he, by whom the King Vaishravana was dispossessed of his Chariot Pushpaka, he, who caused the Gandharvas, Rishis, and the magnanimous Gods to tremble, is now lying dead on the field. He had nought to fear from Asuras, Suras or Pannagas, for it was in man that the peril lay for him; he, who could not be slain by Devatas, Danavas or Rakshasas is lying here on the earth, struck down by a mere mortal fighting on foot; he, who could not be slain by Suras, Yakshas or Asuras, received his death blow from a man, as one who is defenceless.’

Thus did the wretched consorts of Ravana speak amidst their sobs and, overwhelmed with grief, continued to lament without ceasing, saying:—

“Not heeding the advice of your friend, who ever offered you prudent counsel, to our destruction you didst bear Sita away and thus the titans have fallen and we shall perish this day on account of your fault. Your beloved brother, Bibishana, speaking to you in reasonable terms was publicly affronted by you in your folly, driven on, as you were by destiny; if you had returned the Princess of Mithila to Rama, this fearful and appalling disaster, that is destroying us to the very root, would never have taken place. The wishes of your brother, of Rama and of thine innumerable friends would have been fulfilled; none of us would have been widowed nor the hopes of our enemies accomplished. But, in your perversity, having retained Sita by force, the titans, we ourselves and you thyself, are all victims of a triple destruction. Nevertheless, O Bull among the Titans, it is not your passion that is the cause but destiny; all that dies is slain by destiny. This destruction of the monkeys and the titans in combat and thine own, 0 Long-armed Warrior, is the work of destiny. Neither the considerations of wealth, desire, valour nor dominion can avert the course of destiny!”

Thus the wretched consorts of the King of the Titans lamented like ospreys, overwhelmed by grief, their eyes full of tears.