RAMAYANA SERIES Part 4_KING OF DHARMA (32 page)

Shiva paused, as if abashed at his own loquaciousness.

But of course, I need hardly explain the obvious to Shri Haridev, Almighty Narayana! All things are known to you. The universe contains no secrets from you, great one. I merely restate these things to show my admiration for what you have achieved here upon this troubled mortal realm. And for setting free my loyal and devoted worshipper Jay.

At this, Ravana raised his rack of heads from the ground with reverential slowness and joined his palms together in a namaskaram. “My Lord exalts me by taking my name. I am but a humble servant of Hari. It is I whom He has blessed by His acts. It was my supreme honour to be killed by His hand on the battlefield of Lanka.”

Ravana turned and bowed to Rama as well, offering him the same grace he had showed Shiva. “I have long worshipped Mahadev. But as you well know, my Lord, I am eternally in your service.”

Rama did not answer. He knew he was expected to speak here, to say something. But he found he could not. Out the corner of his eye, he sensed the sage Valmiki turn and look at him, sensed also the curiosity of the maharishi. But he held his tongue.

Finally, Ravana bowed deeply again, then assumed a kneeling posture with heads bowed, at Shiva’s feet.

The Three-Eyed One absently blessed Ravana with an open palm while keeping his gaze on Rama.

You choose not to speak. That is your privilege, Narayana. Infinite are your methods, inscrutable your Leela.

Shiva paused, gazing into the distance as if contemplating some obscure thought. Rama was looking directly at Shiva’s face at that instant and for a brief instant – barely a flash – he saw a strange and incredible sight: Shiva’s eyes had been replaced by views of something else entirely, the way a man’s eyes might reflect a fire or the sky at certain angles. Within Shiva’s eye sockets, instead of the ball of his eye, pupil, cornea, optic fluid and so on, there were immense events taking place on a micro-scale. In one eye, he glimpsed a view of a great war being waged, in a world where all things resided beneath dark waters. Then that eye afforded a view of another world or plane of existence where a great ceremony was taking place with pomp and colour – a ceremony involving beings that he could not begin to describe, let alone comprehend their existence. The other eye likewise flickered with such images of distant worlds, dimensions or times. Even in that flash of a moment, he glimpsed countless such images flickering in Shiva’s eyes and he knew that the Lord of Destruction was presiding over events on a cosmic scale in countless eras, infinite worlds, even as he spoke to Rama here and now…

Shiva glanced back at Rama. A shade of his persona from some other time and place lingered momentarily, and Rama saw that both Shiva’s eyes were filled with crimson flames, consuming entire universes. Then the instant passed, and Shiva’s eyes were just normal eyes as before: inasmuch as a deva’s eyes could ever be considered ‘normal’.

The eyes of a deva never blink. That is how we can tell them apart from other beings, asuras or mortals.

Again Rama did not know how he came by this knowledge. He simply did. Just as he knew perfectly well what Shiva had been speaking of till now, and even what Shiva was about to say next:

I have many other matters to attend to, Haridev. As do you. I will come to the point. I am merely here to congratulate you on a mission masterfully executed. Everything you accomplished while in this amsa was beyond praise. Your great task has been accomplished. The asura races are destroyed upon Prithvi-loka. The rakshasa threat is over. Their race shall never trouble the mortal race in any substantial way again, and over time they shall die out completely and their island-kingdom shall be occupied by the race of mortals, who shall then reign supreme for millennia to come. The brothers Jay and Vijay have been slain yet again, this time being the third occasion, which marks the end of their dand. Now that their penalty is over, they are free to assume their rightful place in Vaikunta in your service. As, I am sure, are you too.

At this, Ravana raised his head and joined hands once more and bowed to Rama. The sheer reverence and adoration on all the rakshasa’s ten faces was unlike anything Rama had seen before in Ravana’s myriad expressions during the long years of their epic conflict. Yet there was no doubting the sincerity of that reverence and adoration. Ravana bowed his head once more, awaiting any words from Rama.

Once again, Rama said nothing.

Shiva seemed somewhat puzzled by Rama’s lack of response, but continued:

Vishnudeva, I am here on behalf of the devas as well as in the capacity of a longtime dear friend to gently remind you that your goal in this mortal avatar has been achieved successfully far in excess of all expectation, and that your work here upon Prithvi-loka is done. It is time now for you and your eternal consort to return to your rightful place. That is why I come now. To urge you to return where your services are required far more urgently than upon this plane of existence.

And then Shiva himself put his hands together, joining the palms and inclining his head.

OM NARAYANA NAMAHA he said. And then HARI HARI HARI…

Rama listened as the last reverberations of the words faded away, melding with the pulsing of his blood and the thump of his heartbeat.

Then Shiva raised his head once more and gazed upon Rama directly. It was evident that the great Destroyer now required Rama to provide a spoken response.

Rama felt Sita’s hand clutch his shoulder hard. His wife was strong; her grip was tight on the ball of his shoulder, fingers pressing deep into the tendons. He glanced at her briefly. Her eyes were wide with shock. Her lips were parted. Her face displayed her disbelief and incredulity.

“Rama!” she said, pointing with her other hand. The word was whispered rather than shouted. As if she was afraid of being heard.

He understood how she felt.

The scene they were viewing through the shimmering arch suspended over the river seemed so real, so immediate. As if they could simply step through that arch – if it were possible to walk over the rushing water, that is – and enter into that place. Wherever that place might be.

It
looked
like Ayodhya, from what little he could glimpse. And that man and woman standing there
looked
like himself and like Sita. But that was impossible, surely? This was some manner of sorcerous illusion, yes? The product of asura maya?

Yet he knew fully well it was neither asura maya nor an illusion. Whatever was happening in that place beyond the floating arch –
a Vortal, that is what it is called, a Vortal
, said a voice inside his head that he knew was his own yet not his own – was very real, and immediate, occurring right now, at this very instant in time.

But neither of those observations were what scared Sita –
and me, for I’m scared too, I admit
– so badly.

It was the person standing before Rama and Sita in the Ayodhya on the other side of the floating arch…the Vortal.

That could only be one being.

Shiva the Destroyer Himself.

Yet how was that possible?

He realized that none of it was possible, to his knowledge. Yet it
was
happening. That was all that mattered at present.

With a warrior’s instinct, he pushed away the urge to question, doubt, wonder, gape, worry, and focussed entirely on observing, noting, studying, absorbing, analyzing… Upon the battlefield, that meant the difference between destruction and victory. It came naturally to him, and he knew that Hanuman had already slipped into that preternaturally heightened state: seeking only to view and study every notable aspect of what was occurring before their senses, in order to prepare for any inevitability. In a moment, he felt Sita’s breathing change as well, and her grip on his shoulder loosen, as she shed her own anxieties and conflicting concerns and focussed simply on observing.

All three of them stood on the ledge and watched. And listened. Above the roar of the river, it ought not have been possible to hear much. Yet he comprehended every word, every syllable, understood every nuance of what was being communicated in that other Ayodhya beyond the Vortal. Even what was not said aloud.
Especially
what was not said aloud. For devas did not usually speak with the use of tongues and palates and vocal cords; they had no need to use such crude tools…except when addressing ordinary mere mortals.

And he realized that the Rama and Sita he was observing through the Vortal were neither ordinary nor merely mortal.

At this very instant, he felt Sita’s head turn towards him and he turned as well to look at her. Their eyes met and a common realization passed between them, a sense of something they had always known, subterranean knowledge buried deep within the bedrock of their subconscious, now tapped and risen to the visible surface.

Yes,
her eyes said,
it is true, isn’t it? We were never just mortal. And neither are that Rama and Sita.

NINE

Rama was keenly aware of Sita’s eyes upon him as he prepared to speak aloud for the first time. She had turned to look at him after the Three-Eyed One had completed his last communication, and he knew that she was equally puzzled by his lack of response thus far.

He glanced at her briefly, keeping his head tilted forward slightly in a gesture that reflected his respect for the Destroyer. Her eyes searched his and he felt her mind meld with his as she understood at once what he meant to say, how he felt, everything that was contained within his being and which could not be expressed in words. He saw a deep, enduring sorrow begin to appear in her eyes in response and wanted to reach out to her, to say, no, do not be so anxious, all will be well in the end. But she broke eye contact and looked away, her beautiful brown eyes already brimming with tears, rare tears, for Sita cried even less often than most male kshatriyas, and for anything to have brought such sudden tears to her eyes it must be a terrible insight indeed.

Yet he must do what he must do.

He turned his attention back to Shiva.

“Mahadev,” he said reverentially, performing a deep bow and namaskara of his own. “I beg your indulgence. And your forgiveness. What I am about to say may not please thee. Yet I must say it. For such is my dharma.”

Your dharma, Shiva repeated. The great deva’s face was inscrutable. Takshak’s cowl concealed the lower part of his face, further obscuring any subtleties of expression.

“Yes, Great One.”

Dharma is the prerogative of Yamadev, my friend. We are devas. We are above dharma. We serve the infinite shakti of brahman. All-pervasive, all-inclusive. So has it been ever since the Mahat-tattva. Only the chaos of pradhan lies outside our immediate jurisdiction, and that too is pliant to our uses. And you, you are Nilameghashyama. This is why your colouring is black verging on blue, for that is the sacred hue of brahman itself. You are the master of brahman, and your place is upon Anantanaga floating peacefully on the milky ocean of Shiramudra, or upon Garbhodaka at times.

Shiva indicated Sita.

With your eternal paramour Lakshmi by your side, as you lie in yoganidra, maintaining the balance of creation and destruction eternally. Without you, Brahmadev and I are incomplete and Creation itself would become dangerously imbalanced. That is why you must remain aloof and above such mortal preoccupations such as karma, artha, kama, and…dharma. Leave dharma to Yamadev and to these mortals – Shiva indicated the world at large around them – it befits them. We live by the demands of a higher calling.

Rama inclined his head respectfully, held it there a long moment, before raising it only partially to speak: “You speak indisputable wisdom as ever, Mahadev. I cannot debate your great knowledge nor your conclusions. However, during my sojourn upon Prithvi-loka, I have come to realize that this mortal realm that Brahma has propagated is facing a great crisis. A crisis that affects all Prakriti itself. And I cannot stand by and let this crisis unfold, a mere mute spectator.”

Shiva waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “It does not concern us, Haridev. Your given task was to take this mortal form, end the asura race, liberate the brothers Jay and Vijay. That task is complete. Your accomplishment shall be legendary throughout all planes of the three worlds for all time to come. Now you are needed back in Swargaloka once more. Greater concerns require your attention. There is much to be done yet to ensure that the end of the asuras is final and that no trace of them remains in the heavenly realms. Narad-muni has just brought word that—

Shiva stopped short. Rama sensed the deva’s consciousness scanning the neighbouring region, like a searing light scouring a pitch-black dungeon.

—I cannot discuss such matters here upon this mortal plane, Shiva said with noticeable shortness. Suffice it to say that there is much work yet to be done to ensure that this victory is not ephemeral. I need hardly tell you how often we devas have celebrated the destruction of our most ancient enemies only to find that their end was short-lived and that yet again they found some way to survive and return, often in insiduous new forms and with devastating new methods of attack. Please, Haridev, I ask you once again to part from this mortal form and return to Swargaloka with me. Brahmadev has convened an urgent conference of the Trimurti in Brahmaloka. Devi Saraswati and He await us there, alongwith Naradmuni who wishes to share the most recent information with us in private. Parvati Devi is already there on my behalf, and Lakshmi Devi represents you, but without your sacred presence, the conference is incomplete and ineffectual. Whatever we may decide, you are the one we look to first to implement any steps to root out any remnants of the asura menace.