We resume with our story, entering the Ayodhya palace and hearing whispered tales of Dasaratha's ill health in the wake of Rama's departure. . .
I love the description of the sunbeams speaking with Dasaratha and trembling upon finding him cold to the world. Something about this depiction fascinated me; it is inherently ethereal and yet oddly simple and plain.
Horsemen race to tell Bharata and Satrughna the news of their father's death, and all I can think of is, "what is with the ubiquity of the number three? I mean, are three horsemen really necessary to deliver a simple message?" I am clearly unfeeling.
And then they don't even deliver the message of Dasaratha's death! No--all they do is tell the frightened and distressed brothers that they must return to Ayodhya. Like, what?! Plus when they arrive in Ayodhya the silence and everything indicates that something is seriously wrong, and yet they have to wait anxiously to hear what has happened; and if they're anything like me, the anticipation makes the dread that much worse.
Another brief appearance by the mysterious (but ubiquitous) Time. . .
Poor, easily manipulated Kaikeyi. Husband-less and hated by your own son for your actions which banished his beloved brother and thus killed his adored father. (Warning: sarcasm in use!) Excuse me for not pitying your plight.
Ooph! Being called a whore by your own son as he calls "Mother" another woman. I don't know what to think of Bharata here--I mean he is kind of justified, but that's harsh. And then he turns around and asks why a kingdom needs a king. . . Seriously? "Kingdoms" can't even be spelled without "king," let alone run without them! (Side note: the dialogue on why a king is necessary perfectly describes this sentiment in a much more knowledgeable and vivid manner. Kudos once again to Buck and his expressive and enthralling use of language!)
"But here I am...I'll burn the dead King in Rama's name." I know this quote refers to proper ceremonial burial rites and all, but it is probably the most ominous and frightening line I have read yet in this class. Remind me to never get on Bharata's bad side. And thank goodness he decided to forgive Kaikeyi, or she would have had s*** for life (pardon my language) in the future. I respect his decision here, but am still unsure of how I feel about Bharata's character. . .
What is with the random anecdote about Indra and Surabhi, the wishing-cow of heaven? Now I know of a new Hindu deity--one who is extremely compassionate apparently--but to what purpose?
Still lovin' Guha, the little man. He is a friendly, loyal, and somewhat enigmatic character who speaks the language of animals--what more could you want?!
A prime example of Buck's beautiful prose: "Then as a smoldering tree already burned by forest fire will show only by night that it still burns, so Bharata sighed in the dark." I'm sighing myself here, when presented with such emotive language!
Bharata (along with countless Kosalas) cross various lands and pass through many channels in order to speak with Rama and inform him of Dasaratha's death. Long story short.
Next falls a pretty pastoral scene depicting Rama and Sita walking the woods together, quickly interrupted by a black crow attacking Sita while Rama sleeps. Sita becomes jumpy, but I guess this is acceptable seeing as she was just attacked by a random forest animal. They arrive home sweet home.
Rama and Bharata explore their bromance. This results in Bharata assuming a consular role during Rama's absence. Ayodhya awaits Rama's return with silence and ignorance. 'Cause you can't learn when you're mourning, of course (?). . .
Our adventurous trio (Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana) encounter the old couple that is Atri and Anasuya when venturing to find a new home in the forest. Here Sita claims her husband in no uncertain terms ("He is my man," she states). This statement and Sita's beauty and charm earn her some serious bling from the older woman. Why not?
Every three months or eight months or a year our trio would move. Random, but apparently true. But late in the fourteenth and last springtime. . . (Duh, duh, duhhhh!)
Thus we arrive at the book in which all of Rama and Sita's true trials and tribulations are to occur. Here we go!
First we learn the rather clever and amusing tale of Agastya. The Vindhya Hills had been jealous of the Himalya for its position in the center of the passage of the Sun and Moon. And so Vindhya rose and blocked the skies. But sneaky Agastya begged Vindhya to grant him passage and not rise again until his return to the north. Thus the Vindhya Hills remain lower than the Himalya.
Agastya also took on two demon brothers named Vatapi and Ilwala, digesting Vatapi as mutton before his brother could call him out of Agastya's stomach. Gross, but I guess judicious. . . (?)
Upon meeting Agastya, he gifts Rama a divine bow and gives one arrow each to Rama and Lakshmana. Perhaps we will be illuminated on the roles of these specific infallible arrows later.
The foolhardy trio decide to venture into Dandaka, a land infested with Ravana's blood-drinking demons. I mean, why not? They still have a year of banishment to travel and such. Why wouldn't they want to encounter danger and demons galore?
Two words: Miniature. Saints. Cool or creepy or a mix of both? You decide!! (Though the image of them carrying a leaf is pretty freaking adorable.)
A rather insightful conversation about war and right and wrong ensues between Rama and Sita. I've got to say, this is one of the first instances in which Sita actually seems more intelligent than insipid. And I'm kinda loving it.
The story of the Valas and the creation of the Nagas and the birth of Garuda was phenomenal! Definitely a story I may retell in some way at a later date (hint, hint), so no more on that now. . .
The etiological myth for thunderbolts--is this an example of some kind of religio-cultural transition from a more ancient tradition to the more recent (at least at the time of the epic's transcription) Vedic tradition? Questions, questions! (Additionally, the etiological myth for snakes' split tongues! Haha.)
Even with Sita standing alongside Rama and Lakshmana, she manages to be kidnapped. It kind of makes you wonder how great our two princely "heroes" are as guards, lol.
Finally, we come to the arrival of Surpanakha, Ravana's sister (different spelling, same disgusting demoness). Surpanaka tells Ravana; Ravana sends an army; Rama kills army; Ravana heads to the hermitage of his uncle Maricha. And so we reach the fantastic story of the golden deer. . .
Until next time!!
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