Vishvamitra

Dasharatha’s conference with his ministers was over. But no one was in a hurry to leave. With gods in heaven and happiness all around, Dasharatha and his ministers were enjoying the brief respite of freedom from worries. It was time for compliments and thanks, as if good fortune was being gifted, not by providence, but by friends to each other. Every one warmed up as the conversation began to revolve around families and children. Dasharatha was beaming with pride at the mention of Rama and Laxman.

“The princes must find their consorts now, “said someone.

Everyone agreed and turned to Dasharatha for endorsement. Dasharatha was smiling pensively. The suggestion was not out of place.  Besides, with his wife by his side, Rama would forget the gloom which had overshadowed him of late.

“You have in fact given expression to my innermost desire,” he said, a bit hesitantly, because he was not sure how Rama would take it. Dasharatha looked in the direction of Vasishtha who was listening without involvement. Vasishtha read the question in Dasharatha’s eyes and smiled approvingly. 

The euphoria of the conversation was interrupted by the royal guard who announced, “Your Highness, sage Vishvamitra is at the gate of the conference-room. He wishes to present himself to the king and his ministers.”

Everyone was wondering what could have brought the sage to Ayodhya and why he would seek a meeting with Dasharatha in the presence of his ministers. The royal guard was trembling nervously. Dasharatha understood the gravity of the announcement. He looked at Vasishtha who beckoned him to get up and follow him. Everybody got up and reached the main gate after Vasishtha and Dasharatha.

Vishvamitra was standing steadfast at the threshold of the main gate. There was the agility and alertness of the fighter and the quiet restraint and sagacity of a priest, which he had earned with years of austerity and penance.

His presence inspired awe. There was no agitation in his gestures as he stood there ni quiet dignity. The white strands of his hair covered his shoulders. The aura of peace and compassion which surrounded him was indicative of his ancient yogic power. He stood there patiently, waiting to be invited inside. Transgression was considered a sign of indignity. The sages would not overstep the authority of kings and kings would not  dishonor the sanctity of the hermitages of the sages.

In spite of the rigor and austerity of his person, he filled everything around him with a breath of life.

With his head still adorned with the crown he was wearing at the conference, Dasharatha bent reverentially before him. Thereafter, Vasishtha , followed by the other royal priests received him.

Dasharatha said, “Your holiness, we are surprised yet glad to have you amongst us so unexpectedly. We consider it our good fortune that you have chosen to bless us with your gracious presence.”

Thereafter all the sages and the ministers who were present there, entered the conference hall and occupied their seats. Vishvamitra accepted the greetings offered to him according to the protocol and met Vasishtha cordially.

The king then addressed the sage thus: O great priest, you deserve to be rewarded richly and it is our good fortune that you are here in Ayodhya. Tell us your wish and tell me how I can serve you. O great sage, you have conquered all desires, fear and anger. There is no place for love or hate in your heart; you are in good health, and yet you have come to me. That’s very strange! Whatever may be the mission or the interest that has brought you here; you may rest assured that it will be fulfilled. I have always held you in great esteem. O great descendent of the Kushika dynasty, state what you want without hesitation. Your holiness, there is nothing in this world that I cannot give you. I shall feel honored if you allow me to help you. “

Vishvamitra was pleased.

“O great king, I know you are under sage Vasishtha’s command. Therefore I presume that the words you have uttered have the sanction of Vasishtha. Let me tell you now what is on my mind. Whenever I initiate the auspicious yajnya to propitiate the deities, some marauders who reign at night, come and destroy the altar and the holy fire. I have started the ritual again and again, but they have desecrated the floor with flesh and blood. This has happened several times. Every time I put in great efforts; but it’s all in vain. I have left my abode and come to seek your protection so that my yajnya may be completed without trouble. I cannot utter a curse in anger. I want to bring the yajnya to its fulfillment with your grace. I know, your son Rama is valiant like a lion. He is capable of destroying those marauders. Trust your son to me. He will be totally safe in my custody. I shall train him in the use of the rare missiles which are in my possession. These marauders called rakshasas are fierce warriors. They are the agents of Khara  and Dushana who rule from the forests. They are the death incarnate to their opponents. But they will be slain and brought down to earth like particles of dust in rain by Rama’s missiles. I can see this with certainty, and you can believe them killed already, because yogis like me never indulge in vain talk. Your son Rama is not an ordinary being and this known to me, Vasishtha and other farsighted sages like us. This sacrifice, for which Rama is going to kill the rakshasas, will be brought to completion in ten days. Please ask Vasishtha and your ministers to give consent; I am sure they will agree. Therefore send Rama with me on this mission. Try to understand its importance and waste no time. Time is running out and delay will be destructive.”

Vishvamitra was silent, and so was Dasharatha, after this impassioned plea. Dasharatha remained speechless for a long while. There had to be a logically satisfactory answer to fence off a sage like Vishvamitra who had come to him with high expectations. After a considerably long silence Dasharatha spoke in despair:

“Your holiness, Rama is hardly sixteen. I don’t see any sign of capability in him which can assure success in the war against the rakshasas. See, I have a huge army at my command. I will lead this army and fight those ghosts myself. All these soldiers are loyal to me; I have raised them. My ministers are all excellent fighters, and moreover, they are good counselors. They will fight and I will guard them. Rama is still a child. He has no knowledge of weapons, nor is he trained yet in the strategies of warfare. He does know as yet how missiles are used in the battlefield when faced with crores of fierce fighters. He has seen parks gardens and woods; he has walked on carpets of flowers with the other princes, but he has not experienced the terror of battles….. And besides, what to tell you, your holiness, these days my stars are adverse; I don’t know why, but Rama has weakened and gone pale like a blighted lotus. Rama is the dearest of all to me. Therefore please do not take away Rama. If your object is to eliminate the night-marauders, I’ll come with you with my own battalion of horses, elephants and soldiers.”

Having spoken thus far, Dasharatha was silent for a moment. Then he dropped the stance of the practiced diplomacy and voiced his deeper fear in a somewhat hushed tone:

“We have heard about a fierce warrior called Ravana, who they say, is the half-brother of Kubera who is the treasurer of the devas. And sage Vishrava is his father. If this misguided soul is causing obstruction in your yajnya, then I must say, we are powerless against him.”

Upon this, Vishvamitra was enraged. He thundered:

“You are bound by your own words of promise. You made a promise to me that you will fulfill my demand, and now you are going back on your promise. It seems that you, who are a lion, now want to change into a fox. This does not become a descendent of king Raghu’s dynasty. You are setting back the age-old tradition established by your ancestors. I did not expect this from you. If you are unable to keep your word, I will go back the way I came. If going back on your promise is what you need to do for your happiness, be it so. My blessings are with you; may you live happily with your kith and kin.”

Seeing Vishvamitra overcome by anger, Vasishtha who had restrained himself so far stepped in to prevent any untoward thing from happening.

He addressed Dasharatha thus:

“Your highness, you have always stood by what is right. You have never failed in your duty as the king and the protector of your subjects. Understand your mission; I am sure you will. This sage here has the power to rule over the whole world if necessary; you must obey him. If you go back on your promise, you will be known for vain glory, not for valor. Trust Rama to Vishvamitra. If king Dasharatha born in Ishwaku dynasty fails in his mission, who will the world turn to in times of distress? Sage Vishvamitra has a thorough knowledge of what is right and what is wrong for humanity. No one can compete with him today in the knowledge of weapons and missiles, and no one will be able to in future. All the mighty races living in this world cannot face him even if they all unite against him. The greatest missile-makers of the world have made missiles according to his instructions. He has devoted many years of life to research on missiles of destruction. Whoever is his protege, will defeat the forces of death. Give up fear. There is no need to panic when you have an invincible ally like him by your side.”

Vasishtha’s words were timely and adequate. Dasharatha ordered the attendant to fetch Rama and Laxman. The attendant returned in a while and said, “Your divine grace, my lord Rama has turned the day into night. He has closed the portals of his chamber and he is lost ij thought. “The personal attendants of Rama, who had accompanied the messenger, spoke one after another and reported how Rama had lost interest in eating, drinking and merriment ever since he had returned from the pilgrimage.

“He has no inclination towards the active life of a prince. He is uncommunicative.  He neither laughs, nor sings, nor cries in grief. It appears as if he has no mind. He is not proud of being a prince, nor does he think of his future as the king of Ayodhya. There is neither happiness nor sorrow in him. We don’t know where he goes, what he does, what he desires, who he thinks of and whom he follows. Day by day he is getting weaker and weaker. Laxman, who follows him in every respect, has also become weak like Rama. When we try to talk to him, he tells us that we are wasting time in meaningless pursuits and when we remind him of his kingship he laughs as if we have said something greatly ironic.”

Everybody listened in dismay except Vishvamitra who responded with great aplomb. He said, “I am eager to see Rama. These are not signs of inertia. He is on the threshold of enlightenment. But this is not the time for it. He is passing through the most critical time. He is on his way to reach the highest point of knowledge. This is his dark night before he reaches the light. He is mistaking the dark to be the end of the path. His path lies ahead of the darkness. He has no knowledge of it. I am sure we can remove this confusion and set him on the right path.”

Dasharatha felt gratified. He started sending messages after messages to Rama. While he was engaged in the talk with the sages and the ministers, Rama arrived, followed by Laxman.

Rama and Laxman saw their father brooding anxiously over something. There was silence as they approached the king who was holding his breath for long. As they bowed to the king and looked around they were struck by the presence of an ancient sage sitting next to sage Vasishtha. They bowed to both and stood in attention to be instructed further.

Vasishtha addressed them, “Long live prince Rama and prince Laxman. You are here to receive the blessings of sage Vishvamitra who has come on a special mission.” Rama bowed reverentially and touched Vishvamitra’s feet. Vishvamitra found himself looking at a lad who was barely sixteen, tall and dark.  He cast a sedate, disinterested look at Vishvamitra. Those were not the eyes of a fighter. Here was a young man who was not out to grab anything for himself because he knew, he lacked nothing. His wisdom was combined with love and compassion. However, there was a trace of fatigue and distress in his eyes which he concealed behind his calm appearance. His brother Laxman stood behind him attentively, alert to the subtle vibrations of curiosity in the people surrounding them. He was especially responsive to the slightest expression feeling from his brother. His heart seemed closed to every other presence save the presence of his brother. In a quick glance, he took in the mood of the assembly and looked at Rama to understand his mind.

Dasharatha saw his young sons and looked at the invincible sage as though at some insatiable deity at the altar of sacrifice. He closed his eyes in fearful anticipation, praying to gods for protection.

Vishvamitra ended the silence. “Rama, I am here to appoint you on a task. But before I begin, let me have a glimpse of your mind.”

Everybody listened with bated breath. Rama looked up and saw Vishvamitra eye to eye. Vishvamitra saw that there was no attempt On Rama’s part to brace up or fence off. Vishvamitra was eager to talk and Rama was eager to listen. Laxman watched Rama from the corner of his eye, trying to conceal a sense of amusement even in the midst of a situation which seemed grave to everyone else. Rama caught his eye for a moment, but there was no way he could chide him in the august presence of the sages. The sixteen-year-old lad was caught between a burden of accountability to his elders and the watchful eye of his shrewd brother. He relaxed and made himself ready for the sage’s scrutiny.

Vishvamitra remembered his own rash and irascible temper when he was of Rama’s age. Vishvamitra was a king before he embraced a radically different way of life of a yogi. He was born in a Kshatriya dynasty. As a Kshatriya, he was an invincible fighter who believed that a king has a right of ownership over the wealth belonging to his subjects. In those days he had coveted a beautiful cow owned by Vasishtha. That cow was believed to be a mascot who fulfilled the wishes of her master and brought him good luck. For the sake of that one cow Vishvamitra was ready to give away half his wealth to Vasishtha. Though Vasishtha was not interested in the wealth, he was ready to part with his beloved cow. But the cow would not leave her master. Vishvamitra had devastated Vasishtha’s hermitage. But finally Vasishtha overpowered him by having recourse to his yogic power. That was the turning point in the foolishly egoistic warrior’s life. He gave up his kingdom and turned to a life of penance, but not before he had destroyed all of Vasishtha’s sons. It was Vasishtha’s fortitude that helped him tide over the grief and come back to his duties as the preceptor of the Ishwaku dynasty.  The past was incredible but true.

Vishvamitra looked admiringly at Rama. If he had been a young man of yore, he would have envied Rama as he had envied Vasishtha in the past. But now life had taught him better things than envy and pride. Here was a young man standing before him who seemed to know his mind well and seemed to have shedded all craving for possessions. Vasishtha also watched the heir of the Ishwaku dynasty as he stood in the presence of them all, waiting silently.

As the conversation had reached a dead end, Vasishtha asked Rama, “You are free to speak Rama. Have no inhibitions. We are here to listen.”

Rama was still silent. Dasharatha was seized with a bout of anxiety once again. Vishvamitra, who was anxious to see his objective fulfilled, said gently, “Speak Rama, I can see that something is holding you back from us.”

Rama said, “Your holiness, I am at your service. There is nothing that I shall hold back from you. Whatever is in my possession, I will give it to you and whatever is in my power to do, I will do it for you.”  

Vasishtha said, “Rama, we are concerned about your well-being. Before we proceed with Vishvamitra’s project I want to know what it is that is ailing you. Something has changed since you came back from your pilgrimage.

The question was direct and simple, but Rama did not have a simple answer. Everybody was reading his own meaning into Rama’s silence. Dasharatha saw a silent rebuke of his enslavement to Kaikeyi; the ministers saw the would-be prince in a dilemma, caught between the desire to lead a life of his own choice and the obligations to answer the call of his duty towards the state and the family. Vishvamitra was so eager to see Rama out of this stupor that he had no time to waste on speculations. He wanted a quick remedy and immediate results. Laxman stood by, more in agony than in anxiety. Vishvamitra looked at Vasishtha beseechingly.

Vasishtha continued, “A prince should not stay in this state of mind for long. I, as the preceptor of the Ishwaku dynasty, know the annals of history. Your forefathers were all men of action. Your father, Dasharatha is held in high esteem by all the kings of the neighboring states. A Kshatriya cannot sit in isolation and brood. Battles and bloodshed are part of Kshatriya’s life. “

Rama smiled. He said, “Yes, all I have seen of the life of a Kshatriya is just that: killing. That is why I went on a pilgrimage to see what life is like apart from battles and diplomacy. I learnt horse-riding, weaponry, missiles and the science of war. But all that I did so far was to go to forests, escorted by a retinue of attendants and kill innocent animals for sport.”

Vasishtha said, “Henceforth you are not going to kill for sport, Rama. You are going to protect the sages living in the far-flung areas from the towns, in mountains and forests . They are exposed to threats by rakshasas. You are called upon to stop the wanton killing by rakshasas. They are night-marauders; carnivorous; and moreover, they are bent on destroying our way of life. Vishvamitra has chosen you and Laxman for the task of protecting the yajnyas from rakshasas. Say yes. He is ready to impart the knowledge of secret weapons and missiles to you and Laxman. Go with him wherever he will take you. Have no fear.”

Rama who had been avoiding eye contact so far, raised his eyes and looked at his father. He was pained to see anguish in his eyes. Then he turned a little to steal a glance at Laxman. Laxman was beaming with excitement and raring to go. He gave a nudge to Rama , pressing him to go ahead and say yes to the proposal.

Rama met his father’s eye briefly but unwaveringly. Dasharatha knew that his son had made up his mind. He nodded to give consent. Rama went to Vasishtha and Vishvamitra, touched their feet and said, “I am ready.”