Part 14: Contest for Sītā

Janaka, delighted, gave his daughter Sītā to Rāma; so two things resulted from Rāma’s coming: victory and the finding of a husband.

At that time Nārada heard of Jānakī’s beauty from the people. He went there to see her from curiosity and entered the maiden’s house. Sītā saw Nārada, tawny-haired, tawny-eyed, with a prominent belly, carrying an umbrella, holding a staff, with a loin-cloth, emaciated, with a waving topknot, terrifying, and she, terrified, trembling, went to the interior of the house, crying, “O mother!” Then Nārada was blocked by the slave-girls, women doorkeepers, et cetera, who seized him by the neck, topknot, and arms, creating a tumult. Because of their outcries royal servants came armed, like messengers of Yama, saying angrily, “Kill him!” Alarmed, Nārada freed himself from them somehow or other, flew up, and went to Vaitāḍhya, and reflected:

“I have escaped alive from the slave-girls, like a cow from tigresses. By good luck I have got to Vaitāḍhya which has many Vidyādhara-lords. There is here in the southern row, a young man, the son of Candragati, named Bhāmaṇḍala, powerful, whose power is like Indra’s. I will paint Sītā on a canvas and show her to him, so he will take her away by force. I shall repay that (treatment) if this is done.”

Nārada did just as he planned and showed Prince Bhāmaṇḍala Sītā’s form which had never been seen before in the three worlds. At once Bhāmaṇḍala was overcome by Love like a demon. He could not sleep at all, like an elephant drawn to the Vindhya. He did not eat his food and did not drink his beverages, and remained silent like a yogi engaged in meditation. Seeing him thus distracted, King Candragati said: “Does some anxiety disturb you, or have you become ill? Or has an order been disobeyed by some one, or is it something else? Tell me, son, what is the cause of your grief?” Prince Bhāmaṇḍala bent his head from shame twice over. How can well-born young men tell such things to their elders?

His friends told the reason of Bhāmaṇḍala’s distress—that he was in love with a young woman whose portrait had been brought by Nārada. The best of kings had Nāraḍa brought to his house with respect quickly and asked of the portrait-lady, “Who is she? Whose daughter is she?” Nārada said: “She is the daughter of Videhā and Janaka, Sītā, who was portrayed by me on canvas. I am not able to paint her as she really is in beauty, nor is anyone else. She is truly extraordinary in form. Such beauty as Sītā’s is not to be found among goddesses, nor among women of the Nāgas, nor among the Gandharvīs, to say nothing of humans. The gods are not able to create (by magic) such a form as it really is; gods and men are not able to imitate it; Prajāpati is not able to make it. There is a certain extreme sweetness in her appearance and her voice; and a certain deep redness in her hands and feet and throat. Yet, just as I am not able to paint her just as she is, I am not able to describe her. I tell the exact truth about that. Deciding in my own mind, ‘She is suitable for Bhāmaṇḍala,’ I painted her the best I could and showed the portrait, O king.”

“She will be your wife; do not worry,” the king consoled his son and dismissed Muni Nārada. Then the king instructed a Vidyādhara, Capalagati, to seize Janaka and bring him quickly. Seizing Janaka at night, unobserved, he brought him and delivered him to Candragati. The king of Rathanūpura embraced Janaka like a kinsman from affection, seated him and said with friendliness: “Your daughter Sītā has extraordinary qualities. My son Bhāmaṇḍala is not deficient in beauty. Let the union of the two in marriage, which is suitable, take place now, and mutual friendship between us because of the connection.”

Janaka said, “I have given my daughter to Rāma. How can I give her to another? Maidens are given once for all.”

Then Candragati said: “I have brought you here and asked you to promote our friendship. I am able to kidnap her. Even if your daughter Sītā has been promised to Rāma, nevertheless Rāma will marry her (only) after he has defeated us.

Two bows, Vajrāvarta and Arṇavāvarta, always attended by a thousand Yakṣas at the command of the gods, possessing unbearable brilliance, always worshipped by us in a shrine like family-divinities, were made for the future Rāma and Śārṅgin (Vāsudeva). Take them. If Dāśarathi strings one of these, then we are defeated by him. Let him marry your daughter.”

Having obtained Maithala’s consent to this proposal, though by force, he and his son took him and the bows to Mithilā. King Candragati released Janaka in the palace and he himself with his retinue camped on ground outside the city. At once Janaka told Queen Videhā what had happened in the night, which was like an arrow in her heart. Videhā wept: “Oh, cruel fate, having taken my son from me, you are not satisfied, but will take my daughter also. The choice of a husband is according to one’s own wish among the people, not according to the wish of another. From fate this choosing of a husband at another’s wish has fallen on me. If Rāma does not accomplish the stringing of the bow, which has been agreed on at another’s wish, and some one else does, then there will be an undesirable bridegroom.”

Janaka said: “Do not be afraid. I have seen Rāghava’s strength, O queen. The bow will be like a creeper to him.” After enlightening Videhā thus, Janaka worshipped the two jewels of bows at dawn and put them in the pavilion provided with a platform. Summoned by Janaka, the Vidyādhara-lords came there for Sītā’s svayaṃyara and sat down on the platform. Then, escorted by her women-friends, wearing divine ornaments, Jānakī approached there like a goddess walking on earth. After making pūjā to the bow and setting Rāma in her mind, Jānakī stood there, a stream of nectar to the eyes of the people. Then at the sight of Sītā’s beauty which agreed with Nārada’s description, Bhāmaṇḍala’s love assumed the character of a disease.

Then Janaka’s door-keeper said: “Listen! all you kings, Vidyādharas and of earth. Janaka proclaims:

If any one strings either one of these bows today, he may marry my daughter.’” One by one the powerful Vidyādharas and the kings approached the bow with the wish to string it. They were not able even to touch the bows surrounded by cruel serpents and very brilliant, to say nothing of taking them. Burned by sparks and flames emanating repeatedly from the bows, they withdrew and went elsewhere, their faces downcast from shame. Then Rāma, the son of Daśaratha, his golden earrings dangling, with the easy gait of a lordly elephant, approached the bow. Being watched with laughter by Candragati and other kings, and with anxiety by Janaka, the elder brother of Rakṣmaṇa, fearlessly touched with his hand the great bow Vajrāvarta, like Vajrapaṇi touching the thunderbolt, whose fire from the serpents became extinct at once. After placing it on an iron seat and bending it like a reed, Rāma, best of bowmen, strung the bow. Drawing it back to his ear, he twanged the bow with a noise that filled the space between heaven and earth, like the drum of his own glory. Maithalī herself threw the svayaṃvara-wreath on Rāma and Rāmabhadra removed the bowstring from the bow. Lakṣmaṇa strung the bow Arṇavāvarta at once at Rāma’s command, watched by the astonished people. Saumitra (Lakṣmaṇa) twanged it, making the sky deaf from the sound, removed the bowstring, and put the bow back in its place. Eighteen Vidyādharas, alarmed and astonished, gave their daughters, wonderful as goddesses, to Saumitra. Candragati and other Vidyādhara-lords, embarrassed, accompanied by Bhāmaṇḍala who was depressed, went to their respective cities. Then Daśaratha came quickly at Maithala’s message and Rāma’s and Sītā’s wedding took place with a great festival.

Then Janaka’s brother, Kanaka, gave Bharata his daughter Bhadrā borne by Suprabhā. With his sons and daughters-in-law King Daśaratha went to Ayodhyā which had a festival prepared by the citizens.