The Ramayana Read Free

Brahma.

THE DEMON’S BOONS
    The Rakshasa sat in penance on the Himalaya, amidst five fires. Four he lit around himself to heat the blazing rock he sat upon; the fifth was the pitiless sun above. Ravana was the son of the Rishi Visravas, who was Brahma’s own grandson. Ten-headed, magnificent Ravana sat worshipping the God Siva. But even after he had sat for a thousand years, Siva did not appear before him.
    Growing impatient one day, the Demon picked up his sword, cut off one of his ten heads, and, chanting Siva’s name, fed it to the fire. Still the Lord did not come to him. Another thousand years passed; Ravana severed another head and fed that into the fire. But even now, Siva did not come.
    Ravana did not flinch. In nine thousand years, the Rakshasa cut off nine of his heads and fed them to the agni. But there was no sign of Siva. When ten thousand years of perfect worship had passed, Ravana reached for his sword again: to hew off his tenth and final head, and make an end of himself. Then his eyes were blinded with light such as they had never seen before. At the heart of the luster stood Siva, the God of Gods, smiling at his fierce devotee.
    Raising his hand in a blessing over the Rakshasa, Siva said, “Ask for any boon you want.”
    Ravana asked for strength that no other creature in the universe possessed. After the offering of nine heads, Siva could not refuse him. He restored the Rakshasa’s heads and gave him strength that would make him master of the earth one day.
    But Ravana was not satisfied with one boon. He resumed his fervid penance, now in the name of his own great-grandsire: Brahma, the Creator. In a hundred years, Brahma also stood, four-faced and iridescent, before the Demon. “What boon do you want, Ravana? Ask me for anything.”
    Ravana’s tapasya had been so remarkable he could have asked for moksha, enlightenment. But being a rakshasa, he said, “Siva has already given me boundless strength. Pitama, you make me immortal!”
    Brahma replied, “Immortality I cannot give, not to any of the created. Ask for another boon.”
    Ravana thought for a moment. Then he said shrewdly, “Then bless me that I never find death at the hands of a Deva, Danava, Daitya, Asura, rakshasa, gandharva, kinnara, charana, siddha, or any of the divine and demonic beings of heaven and earth.”
    With a sigh, knowing what the consequences of this boon would be, Brahma said, “So be it,” and vanished.
    Ravana’s triumphant roar echoed through the world. The Himalaya trembled; the sea rose in hilly waves and dashed against the shores of Bharatavarsha. Of course, the Rakshasa had thought it beneath his dignity to ask for invincibility against the puny race of men. For which mortal man could hope to threaten awesome Ravana’s life? He was certain that now he was immortal.
    And quickly, with his two boons, the Demon became sovereign of all he surveyed. For long ages he ruled, and darkness spread …

PROLOGUE
    Hanuman could see into the little cloister from his leafy perch. He saw Sita shiver, when she knew the Lord of Lanka had arrived. Quickly she covered her body with her hands. Like frightened birds, her eyes flew this way and that, avoiding Ravana’s smoldering gaze as he came and stood, tall and ominous, before her.
    He drank deeply of the sight of her. He did not appear to notice how disheveled she was, or the dirt that streaked her tear-stained face. Before him, Ravana, master of the earth, saw his hopes, his life, his heaven and hell; and, if he had known it, his death as well. She stared dully at the bare ground on which she sat. She was like a branch, blossom-laden, but cut away from her mother tree and sorrowing on the ground.
    Ravana fetched a sigh. In his voice like sleepy thunder he said, “Whenever I come here, you try to hide your beauty with your hands. But for me, any part of you I see is absolutely beautiful. Honor my love, Sita,