The Killing of Ravana

This story is a piece from the 'Bhilonu Bharath-- a version of the Mahabharata popular in the oral culture of the Dungari Bhils of North Gujarat. The Bhilonu Bharath is compiled by Dr. Bhagavandas Patel. Dr. Patel has provided prose renderings of separate episodes along with the original repetitive verse in his book. One of these prose renderings is translated into English here by Aruna Joshi, editor of Dhol, a journal published for tribals in eight tribal languages.

The story is posted here with permission of Aruna Joshi. Any use of the material must be with her permission. She can be contacted at the Bhasha Research and Publication Centre, 6 United Avenue Near Dinesh Mill, Baroda 390 007 India.

Rama, Laxmana and their army have camped at the outskirts of Lanka. Days pass and no scheme for defeating Ravana seems to be working.

The destined moment has arrived. Golden dawn has come. Beautiful sun has risen. Laxmana sees a washerman coming out of the gates of Lanka and going toward the sea. The washerman reaches the shore, opens his bundle and starts washing the clothes of women. Laxmana approaches the sea, recognizes the expensive garments to be those of Mandodari, the wife of Ravana, and gets an idea for defeating Ravana. He slowly asks the washerman, "Whose clothes do you wash?"

The royal washerman gets perplexed, "Wayfarer get back to your way. I am doing my job. What business do you have with me?"

Laxmana says to himself on this bitter retaliation, "It's an alien land and an alien state. If I have to deal with strangers, I cannot be as impatient as he is." Without getting angry at all, Laxmana moves a little away. Again, coming back, he says calmly, "You reacted quite bitterly, yet did I say anything? I won't reciprocate in the same manner."

The washerman thinks, "He seems to be a nobleman; I should reply politely to what he asks." And then he speaks to Laxmana, "O wayfarer, these are the garments of the queens of Ravana."

"How many queens has he?"

"Two queens."

Laxmana wants to enquire further, "Who is the older one and who is now the chief queen?"

The washerman answers, "Brother, one is really old and the other one he has brought here recently. She is still in the orchard, hasn't yet entered the palace."

"And what are their names, pray?"

"The older one is Mandodari and the new one is Seeta."

Laxmana shows the garland he is wearing and says, "I can give this garland worth nine lakh rupees (Navlakha Haar) to you if you give me a set of these clothes. You won't have to bother to work for your whole life thereafter."

The washerman thinks, "If I give the clothes to this wayfarer and get caught, there's no escape." But then he thinks further, "If Ravana asks about them I will say the clothes were dragged away by the waves. He won't notice either, as he has so many of them. And what even if he notices? At the most, he will remove me from the job. The garland this nobleman is offering can suffice me for generations to come. Then, who cares for the job at Ravana's!" The washerman slips in his duty, betrays his master and exchanges with Laxmana the garments of his mistress for the Navlakha Haar.

Mandodari's garments in his hands, Laxmana enters the camp, planning the death of Ravana. "Got the queen's garments, all right. But now I have to cook the food that Ravana relishes!" Laxmana cooks for Ravana delicacies of thirtytwo-thirtythree kinds just as Mandodari does. He arranges them beautifully in a big golden plate. Then Laxmana, the perfect man, starts making himself up like Mandodari. He wears a frilly loincloth, puts on a blouse, wraps a light and expensive Odhni over his head and shoulders. He puts on a necklace, threads pearls in the tufts of his long hair, puts Sindoor in the parting of his hair and puts on a damni over it, puts on right-sized earrings, sticks a Bindi on his forehead, wears Kajal in his eyes and makes a beauty-spot on his cheek. Now he takes a mirror in his left hand and looks at his own beautiful image. The face seems to be the gracious full-moon. The eyes are like the edge of a sword and the lashes look like the wings of a bee. The teeth are like pomegranate seeds and the nose is like the flame of a lamp. Now, the golden plate in his hand, Laxmana, the perfect man, looks like Mandodari herself and walks gracefully past the boundaries of Lanka.

Forests have come alive with the calls of green peacocks and the songs of lovely birds. Laxmana approaches the palace of Ravana. Gracefully he covers his head and face with his odhni (as is the custom) and swiftly climbs the stairs to reach where Ravana is. He sets the plate in front of Ravana. Just as Ravana starts his lunch, Laxmana gives out a long wail. He weeps and he cries, sobs again and again.

Ravana asks with surprise, "My queen, why do you cry so? If somebody has disgraced you, I will take out his eyes. If you have been insulted, just name the person and I will break his neck. Please calm down and tell me what burns your heart."

Laxmana says, "You brought a new wife for yourself; its all right for me. But as its consequence Lanka has got the entire army of Rama at its doors. They won't stop until they get you. And then what happens to me? What then should I do but weep and cry?"

Listening to these words of Laxmana in the guise of Mandodari, Ravana gets agitated and says, "Enough, enough, O Queen. Not a word further. All right, there are some monkeys and priests at the gate. I will look after them, don't you worry."

Laxmana tries to further query about the secret of how he can be killed: "O king, Rama has in his army a mighty warrior like Laxmana. Remember, the other day only a monkey came and put to flame all of Lanka in minutes! This time the entire army of Rama has crossed the seas and landed on our land. What happens now?"

Ravana tries to console and reassure the Mandodari-clad Laxmana: "Queen, who can kill me-- Ravana? Nobody can defeat me. Nobody can take my life. My soul doesn't lie in my body; then how can one get it out?"

Now Laxmana probes deeper into his heart and wants to know the darkest corners where lies the secret of his death. "O king, you too must have your soul within your body, just as everybody else does. How can you store it somewhere else?"

Ravana discloses his heart, "Queen, leave this worry and agony. My soul lies outside my body, far above in the chariot of the sun that straddles across the skies. There is a wasp in the chariot of the sun; in that wasp lies my soul. Now calm down. Nobody can get at the wasp in the chariot of the sun and, therefore, nobody can ever kill me!"

Laxmana now plays his last card. He cries with tears as big as berries and says, "They say, Laxmana is a really fierce warrior in Rama's army. Won't he be able to get at you?"

Ravana, now disclosing everything in his mind, speaks heartily, "O queen, why do you get so anxious? Laxmana cannot do anything to me. To kill me so many acrobatics are required. So many things have to be gathered. And then too, only a proper person, at a certain point of time only, may actually do it!"

Laxmana says, "O king, are you really immortal? I weep only for your love. If you are no more, what do I do then?"

Ravana says, "Now, at least, you must be assured that my death doesn't lie on the roads like others'. And my soul lives outside my body. It lives in the skies above, in the wasp that rests in the chariot of the sun. And to bring it down, one has to do so much of acrobatics. First you have to get oil from twelve different trademills. Then you require a big vessel of iron. Before sunrise, you have to set this vessel on fire in front of the sun. Then you have to pour the oil into it and let it heat fully. Then you have to stand on this vessel of boiling oil with your legs on both the handles and, with your bow, aim at the sun, before sunrise.

As the sun rises above in the sky you have to follow him with your aim all the time. Just as the sun reaches the middle of the sky at noon, there will be, in the boiling oil underneath, the reflection of the wasp who is resting in the chariot of the sun. At this very moment, you have to pull the string and shoot. The wasp would, then, drop into the oil and get fried, and here I shall die; at the same time the person who kills me also faints. He may or may not come out of that at all. This adventure may be tried only by someone who has observed abstinence for twelve years. Now, tell me, do you have any reason to worry?"

Delighted, Laxmana says, "Oh king! Who else but me can now kill you? What reason do I have now to worry about? And who else but me knows the secret of your death? But, now even I am hungry. You enjoy your lunch now. Now I am completely reassured that I have really nothing to worry about." And Laxmana swiftly climbs down the stairs of Ravana's abode. At the last step he casually kicks the palace and its bricks shudder. Enjoying his food, Ravana says to himself, "Mandodari has really got over the fear of my death; is, therefore, going back so . . . .

Laxmana walks his way back to the outskirts of Lanka. He is extremely delighted having learned the secret of killing Ravana. His feet barely touch the ground. Back in the camp, he throws away the adornments of Mandodari one by one and proclaims, "Now you will see the prowess of this man!"

Now it's really lunchtime for Ravana, and the Queen Mandodari sets in a golden plate twentytwo-twentythree kinds of delicacies. She puts on all the adornments and, the golden plate in her hands, walks gracefully up the stairs of Ravana's abode. A soft eastern breeze is blowing and she is full of youthful beauty. She comes in front of Ravana and sets the plate in front of him.

Ravana exclaims, "Queen, have you gone out of your senses? Why have you brought the lunch once again?"

The queen is virtually shaken by this and says to Ravana, "I am coming for the first time in the day at my regular time. It seems you are out of your senses."

"Just a while ago you gave me my lunch and here you are again with the plate in your hands!"

Listening to this, Mandodari thinks for a moment and says, "Rama's army has landed at the outskirts of our city and in the army there is the saintly warrior, Laxmana. He may play different tricks to win the battle. King, was it not he who took away some secret by cheating you?"

Ravana says, "If it was he, how could I recognise the clothes? They were definitely yours. The same odhni with the gold wire border and the same blouse and loincloth. I don't know if you have given them away yourself."

Mandodari says, "My clothes are of course with me. How can they be with the enemy?"

Ravana says, "Queen, the garments I once gave to you myself, how can I not recognise them?"

Mandodari then firmly says, "Whatever you say, O king, I am coming here for the first time today, I take an oath!"

In the discussion with Mandodari, Ravana gets a clear picture of the trick played by Laxmana. Shocked, he ducks himself in the bed and moans, "Oh fate! I credulously gave a gift to my enemy!"

Thrilled to know the secret of Ravana's death, Laxmana returns to Rama's camp and describes in detail the secret procedure to Rama. In the end he says, "We immediately need to acquire oil from twelve oil-mills and an iron vessel. We must catch the moment of the rising sun." Seeing Rama sitting calmly even after this, he thinks to himself, "Rama is too saintly to do all this. I will have to acquire these things myself." Along the road, he comes to the grocers' land and says to a grocer, "Brother, I will pay whatever you ask for. But immediately I need oil from twelve mills." He pays money to the grocer and in return the grocer gives him oil. Laxmana reaches, along the road, a smith's house and purchases from him a big iron vessel. Taking these things, he comes back to the army. Now he says to Rama, "Brother, neither do you work, nor do you let others work. We need firewood to burn under this vessel before the sun rises. If it dawns before we finish this task, all our efforts will be in vain." Hearing this, Rama orders his army and they collect a huge mound of firewood there.

Laxmana, the perfect man, who has observed abstinence for twelve years, now builds a fireplace on the surface of the earth and, on top of it, places the iron vessel. He pours oil into the vessel and lights the fire.

The cock has come out of its coop. Birds are chattering in the trees. Golden dawn has come and the sun is about to rise. Laxmana binds his waist tightly and balances himself steadily with his two feet on the opposite handles of the vessel. He says to Rama, "Brother, now you give me the bow weighing twelve mana and an arrow weighting thirteen mana."

Rama strings the bow with his toe, and gives the bow and arrow into Laxmana's hands. Laxmana sets the arrow onto the string of the bow. The glorious sun is rising. Laxmana steadies his feet on the vessel and stands aiming at the rising sun. Rama's army is watching this scene in astonishment. Slowly the sun, the master of the earth, rises high on his celestial path, and with him rises the tip of Laxmana's aimed arrow. Fire is roaring under the vessel and oil in the vessel is boiling and churning.

The lamp of the earth is about to reach exactly over the head, and the moment of testing Laxmana's sat is here. Down below, the oil has become steady, it is now the middle of the day; and there is the reflection of the wasp resting in the chariot of the sun. Laxmana concentrates, pulls the string and lets go.

The velocity of the arrow makes the rays divide themselves to create a passage and disperse into the aura. Through this passage, the wasp resting in the chariot of the sun is now clearly seen. The wasp is pierced by the arrow, falls down to the earth and gets fried in the boiling oil in the vessel; and with it ends Ravana's life. The bright glare of the flash rising from the burning wasp in the boiling oil blinds Laxmana's eyes. He faints and, exhausted, falls on the surface of the earth.

Ravana is dead, the warrior is now dormant and Pride is finally vanquished.