Ramayana Chapter 19 Urmila and Laxman

 Chapter 19

Urmila and Laxman

Urmila longed to meet her father alone before leaving for Ayodhya.  Suddenly she was feeling his absence acutely.  In those rushed days and hours of the wedding  she could hardly be her own self. Of course, he was going to feel the absence of his daughters too. She knew that he would look forward to his  sons-in-law  for political as well as moral support. But she knew well that there was a deep silence in his heart now.

She was glad when her father himself summoned her to his chamber to have a talk with her.

“Urmila,” he said, “I know your state of mind. I know I have not given you the attention which you deserved and which was your right. I know you would not hold a grudge; you never complained, but I know it. You are an artist who believes in the beauty of life. But life will be beautiful only if you are able to reconcile beauty and agony. Now you must aim at making life meaningful. “

Urmila said, “It’s not easy.”

Janaka said, “Everyone wants life to be easy. Very few there are who want it to be meaningful. Art and beauty may separate,  but neither of them can be separated from the pain of life. Give a space to yourself. I know you need to do it the most of all.”

Urmila was silent. She could have her own space in Mithila in her father’s home. She did not know what life was going to be like in Ayodhya.

Her father understood her silence.

“Have no misgivings,” he said.

“Your husband has a mind of his own, though he appears to live in the shadow of his brother. I know you will never err in your duty towards him. But let it be more than a duty. All these brothers are inseparable from each other. They are not dissolute and their life is dedicated to Rama, the eldest among them. You rarely come across a brotherhood like this. You are entering into a family where relationships are tested and have to withstand the rigours of adversity; but my daughters are no ordinary princesses either. Go ahead on the path of your life without misgivings.”

Urmila bowed down; but before she could touch his feet, he supported her and made her stand up. He wanted to look at her while giving her his blessings.

“Preserve the beauty, peace and harmony within your soul at all times. I know your strength and fortitude. Your beautiful soul is your best companion and guide.”

Urmila and Laxman

Continued

Laxman entered the bridal chamber and found Urmila in a plain attire, working at a canvas. The portrait was half done with just a few preliminary hints of the character of her subject. He walked on tip-toes and stood behind her, watching her apply delicate suggestive hints around the corners of the eyes. She was at once one with the subject and out of it too, giving  space to both: the subject as well as the artist. Laxman watched the progress of the portrait silently. After a few deft strokes and highlights the character emerged vividly. Laxman was flattered to see his own likeness. He quickly stepped back as he saw Urmila moving backward to see the picture in a perspective. Just then Urmila felt his presence and turned around.

“Oh,” she said in a surprise.

“Oh!” said Laxman in response, and both laughed to overcome the uneasiness.

Laxman looked at his own image and she looked at Laxman, afraid to ask his opinion, because she knew, people generally don’t approve of the artist’s rendering of their own visage. But there was no trace of any sign of a disillusionment mingled with angry disapproval on Laxman’s face.

“Do I look like this rogue in the portrait?” He asked Urmila.

She looked at him for a moment and then went on to make a few alterations. Laxman watched the portrait come alive as she darkened the areas around the mouth to capture the play of light and shadow.

She put the brush down and said, “There! I will have to work a little more at it. But that’s enough for the time being.”

The palette was there with the colors still freshly mixed on it. Laxman said, “Let me try my hand at it.”

“Oh no!” She exclaimed and made a move to take away the brush from his hand, but before she could do so, Laxman had dipped the brush in the vermilion and made a mark with it on her forehead.

“There! That completes my own work of art!” said he.

Urmila stole a glance at him as he stared at her with smiling eyes, and she realized what was missing in the portrait—the look in his eyes that seemed to say, “You can’t hide from my eyes any more!”

Ramayana Chapter 20 Back to Ayodhya

Chapter 20

Back to Ayodhya

The journey back to Ayodhya was tedious. The path lay through dense woods at times and when out of the woods, they had to travel across vast stretches of deserts. As they were passing through woods, birds suddenly started hovering around them, making strange piercing sounds, while herds of deer came out of nowhere as it were and started walking alongside them, keeping to their left all the time. Dashratha saw evil portents in this. The sages said, “The birds forewarn us of some calamity and the herds of deer tell us that we are going to tide over the difficulty.”

Suddenly they were overtaken by a sandstorm. It leveled down the mighty trees. The sun disappeared behind a veil of darkness. None could see the road ahead or behind. The army was covered in dust and stood motionless. Only the king, the sages, and the princes retained their senses. The rest of the retinue was covered in dust in that all-pervading darkness.

Just then, Dashratha who was watchful in that darkness, saw the ancient sage Parashurama emerge out of the clouds of dust, carrying a saber on one shoulder and a mighty bow on the other.

While the ancient sage was still far away, Vasishtha had a quick consultation with the other sages. Everyone knew that Parashurama was a sworn enemy of the Kshatriyas, the warrior race, and had massacred them in the past to avenge the death of his father at the hands of a Kshatriya king.  But the revenge was complete and it could be said with certainty that a pure Brahmin like Parashurama would not resort to killing again for no reason.

With this thought in mind, the sages moved forward and greeted him. He accepted their greetings but turned straight to address Rama, which filled Dashratha with fear and anxiety for Rama’s safety.

Prashurama, the son of Jamadagni, a brahmin by birth, said to Rama, the son of king Dashratha, a Kshatriya by birth:

“I’ve heard about your extraordinary conquests. I’ve also heard about your conquest of the mighty bow of God Shiva. It was miraculous and unthinkable. Listen; I’ve come with another equally mighty bow. Show me how you will stretch its string and get the arrow ready on it. If you succeed, I will challenge you to fight a duel with me which will give you an opportunity to prove your mettle.”

Dashratha grew pale at this and pleaded with Parashurama to have mercy on his son. But ignoring him completely, Parashurama went on to address Rama alone. He told him how those two bows belonged to God Shiva and God Vishnu each and how the two gods fought each other on being provoked by other gods; how Shiva, angry over his defeat at the hands Vishnu, handed over his bow to king Devarata, an ancestor of Janaka. It was that bow which Rama had broken into two. The other bow was handed down by God Vishnu to Parashurama’s ancestor Richika.

Later, Richika handed it down to Jamadagni, Parashurama’s father. Jamadagni who was well-versed in the art of weapons and missiles later renounced weapons and resorted to penance. While he was in a state of trance, he was killed by a Kshatriya called Kartavirya. Insane with anger, Parashurama had exterminated Kshatriyas again and again and finally conquered the world from the dominion of Kshatriyas. Having found peace then, he gave away the entire kingdom of the world to sage Kashyapa and retired to Mount Mahendra.

Now once again, he had come to challenge a new representative of the Kashatriyas in the person of Rama. He had thrown a two-fold challenge before Rama; firstly, to master the bow of Vishnu in the same manner as he did the bow of Shiva, failing which Rama had to accept defeat, and if he won, fight a duel with Parasurama.

Rama listened attentively and cautiously. He understood the implicit deprecation of his warrior descent in that challenge. In spite of himself, he had to accept the challenge.

Without any sign of perturbance, he said, “We know, you had a just cause in the massacre of Kashatriyas in the past. But there is no reason why you must take up cudgels to fight us now. If it is my pride which is at stake, then let me affirm with due respect for your Brahmin descent that I will fight for the honor of my race.”

Saying thus, he caught hold of the bow in Parashurama’s possession and stretching its string, placed the arrow on it, ready to be unstrung at any moment. With this act, he deprived Parashurama as it were, of the divine power of Vishnu endowed upon him. That power deserted Parashurama and was now  acquired by Rama. Though vanquished, Parashurama felt honored by this well-deserved victory Rama had scored over him. Moreover, he was at peace now, with himself and this young honorable Kshatriya who knew how to rule. He felt no need for revenge any longer. Peaceful, the sage went back to his retreat in the secluded abode in Mount Mahendra.