Rāma in Kishkinda

Rāma was so full of sorrow and so full of anger when he realised Sita had been taken. He told Lakshmana that with his anger he would destroy all that existed in the universe, as if he were himself the God of death. Rāma lamented that he had lived his life according to the dictates of dharma, and that he had been only noble. Yet he had lost his Kingdom, his family, his father, and now his Sita. He told Lakshmana that his gentleness had been mistaken for weakness, and that this had brought him only pain. Rāma without Sita, with all of his anger was ready to destroy the universe itself.

Lakshmana spoke gently to Rāma,

‘You should not abandon your nature, now that you have fallen prey to anger’. He said.

‘As loveliness dwells in the moon, brilliance in the sun, movement in the wind and forbearance in the earth, all these ever invariably dwell in you.’

He then sat beside his older brother and lovingly pressed his feet.

‘If you are not able to endure this suffering, what other man can bear it?’

‘What living beings do calamities not visit?

Reminding him that fate cannot be overcome, and that if anyone could bear these hardships it was Rāma. He calmed his brother, telling him that even the Gods go through pain and loss, and if they cannot avoid fate, then how can we as humans hope to.

Rāma, consoled by Lakshmana, regained his composure,

‘What shall we do, O Lakshmana?’

Overcoming his dejection, Rāma with his loving brother Lakshmana began their search for Sita. They found the dying Jatāyu, and Rāma filled with grief at the sight of his fallen friend ‘sank down on the earth’. In his last moments Jatāyu told them what had happened, and so Rāma and Lakshmana began marching south, to find Ravana and Sita.

On their way they encountered the demon Kabandha who wondered the forest. Killing him, and thus freeing him from his curse, he was able to regain his old form. He told Rāma and Lakshmana that to succeed in their task they would need an ally. If they headed towards the Kingdom of Kishkinda, they would find a monkey by the name of Sugriva, and he would help them to find Sita.

Kishkinda is thought to be modern day Hampi, and was my next destination.

Hampi

I had been looking forward to Hampi from the very start of my trip, despite knowing very little about it. However, the fact that it marked the location where Rama met Hanuman meant I knew it was going to be a wonderful experience, and I was not in any way disappointed.

The first thing that struck me as I leaned out of the train door approaching the station at Hampi was the fierce heat. Looking out, I observed all around me. The immense greenery of the fields, was matched only by the orange glow of the air, so bright was the sun.

It was probably the first time I felt as though I was now really in South India. Hindi was no longer spoken, and the signs were no longer in Hindi, so the little I had learned along the way was now useless. Having to rely on only my English, I left the train and made my way towards Hampi. I had arrived in the late afternoon, and with sunset not far away, I decided to spend my first day there just wondering around Hampi. I was immediately struck by its immense beauty. Mountains and boulders pervaded the landscape. The story goes that the Vanara Army, or the monkey army of Kishkinda, would throw these incredible rocks from the tops of the mountains to show off their strength.

Hampi from Anjanaya Hill

Watching the sunset over the dried up river, and behind the mountains, I could not help but look forward to my days ahead.

Hampi

 

 

A bicycle ride along the Trail of Rama Part I

My first morning in Hampi was probably my favourite to date. When deciding how to get around, the owner of the guest house where I was staying recommended that I hire a bicycle for the day, and at 100 rupees, I could not argue with it.

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Cycling around Hampi

After crossing up the dried up river with my bike, scrambling across the rocks, which was not as easy as I would have liked, my first stop was Lake Pampa.

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The river and rocks I crossed

It was at this lake whose ‘soul enchanting excellences are famed throughout the world’, that Rāma and Lakshmana found the ashram of Shabari, another who refused her place in heaven, so she could meet Rama.

However, it was about 4 km from where I was staying, and I knew there was no way I would have enjoyed the day as much as I did if it were not for my bike. It removed my dependence on annoying rickshaw drivers, and enabled me to actually cover a reasonable distance. It had been years since I had ridden a bike, and the freedom it gave me was wonderful.

Pampa

I met a Sadhu at the body of water marking Lake Pampa, and asked him where I should visit. He told me that there was a Durga Mandir I could see, briefly mentioning something about Vali, the language barrier again proving a problem. He told me I could visit Anjanaya Hill and Rishyamookh hill which were all on this side of the river. Again, appreciating that sometimes I did not need to make a plan before doing something, as things often turned out okay, I set off to see the other sites.

I went off in search of the Durga Mandir. I cycled, and cycled, and cycled without managing to find it, even though it was only meant to be 2km away. Not realising how far I had travelled, I stumbled across a small village and just enjoying the bike ride, I thought I would go and investigate, before turning around and heading back.

Everywhere I went I found traces of the Ramayana. Whether it was statues and temples, or simply Rama’s name written across the rocks of Hampi.

Rama written on the rocks

Cycling through I reached the end of the path that existed, and found myself at what seemed like an abandoned temple. It was beautiful and on the banks of the river, with a small photo of Hanuman placed at the entrance. Intrigued I went in, had a wonder around the stone structure and left. I made a note of the name, just in case it came up anywhere and started cycling back. It was called Anegundi.

Anegundi
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Hanuman

Cycling back I soon found the Durga Mandir. Realising I had not been able to see it before as it was hiding on the other side of a hill, I began my ascent. Funnily enough, I met the same Sadhu there as I had at Lake Pampa and after a brief conversation, I went to the Durga mandir.

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The Durga Mandir

I pushed my bike up the unrelenting hill, its one gear and my lack of stamina proving to make cycling up it out of the question, and visited the temple. I then asked about Vāli. No words were given in reply, and I was simply pointed in a direction. Intrigued, I followed and continued walking.

I walked and walked, and finally found arrows painted on the surrounding rocks, which guided me to where I was going. I climbed boulders and squeezed my way through caves until I reached what I thought was my destination.

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I had without knowing, made it to the top of the hill, and I was able to see Hampi in all its glory before my eyes. Monkeys kept me company as I was blown away by all before me.

The monkeys
Hampi

However, I soon realised that the arrows had not stopped. I was at this point becoming nervous. I had walked a long way, across a number of obstacles that were not easy to cross. Spurred on, however, by the feeling that I was close, I descended a few ladders that were merged into the rocks.

What I found was mesmerising…

Rama and Vali

The mighty Sugrīva was living on Rishyamukh Hill, banished from the Kingdom of Kishkinda by his older brother, the King Vali, who had threatened Sugriva with death if he ever returned.

Upon seeing Rāma and Lakshmana, Sugrīva was worried that they had been sent by Vali to kill him. He decided to send the ever faithful Hanumān, to ascertain the intention of those two brothers that had come to Kishkinda.

Hanumān, disguising himself as a mendicant approached Rāma and Lakshmana, asking what had brought them too Kishkinda. Lakshmana relayed their story, telling Hanumān how they were told to find Sugrīva who could help them in their quest to find Sita.

Delighted to hear that they came as friends, and knowing that these two brothers could help Sugrīva too, Hanumān, ‘the noble minded son of the wind god’, was overjoyed. He took Rāma and Lakshmana on his shoulders, and departed for Rishyamukh hill.

Upon meeting Rāma and Lakshmana and becoming friends, Sugrīva told the two brothers of his woe brought to him at the hands of his brother Vāli, how he had taken his wife and banished him from his kingdom. Rāma reassured Sugrīva that he would defeat Vāli, giving him back his kingdom. Sugrīva in turn told Rāma that once he had his kingdom, he would ensure Sita was found.

These two whose joys and woes were so similar had found a new friendship and hope in each other.

Rāma asked his newly found friend to tell him the story of why Vāli had banished him, and Sugrīva obliged.

A long time before, Vāli was fighting with a demon in a cave. Vāli told his younger brother to wait outside. Many months passed and still Vāli had not emerged. A year after entering, Sugrīva saw blood emerge from the mouth of cave, accompanied by the roar of the demon, with no sound of his brother. Fearing his brother dead, Sugrīva closed off the cave and headed back to Kishkinda. In the absence of his brother, the despondent Sugrīva was crowned king.

Vāli, however, had in fact killed the demon, and when he freed himself from the cave, he returned horrified at the actions of his brother. He banished Sugrīva, who had thought he had done what was right, and having taken Sugrīva’s wife for himself, told his younger brother never to return.

Sugrīva still filled with love for his brother, knew he would receive only anger in return. Sugrīva resolved that the only way he could solve his problem was to kill Vāli.

However, Vāli was powerful. He had performed intense tapas to Shiva, giving him strength greater than most could fathom. Killing him would therefore be no easy task. Rāma and Sugrīva devised a plan. Sugrīva would go to fight Vāli, and Rāma hiding in the trees, would release an arrow to kill him.

The fight ensues and Sugrīva and Vāli resembled ‘the moon and the sun in the sky’. Rāma, seizing his moment and released his arrow ‘as the god of death would lift his weapon for the destruction of the world’. Vāli, with tears rolling down his cheeks, struck by the arrow of Rāma, fell to the ground.

The dying Vāli saw Rāma emerge from the trees, and asked the noble prince why he acted so unjustly. How could one so well versed in knowing and doing what is right, commit such an act.

“You are cruel,’ Vāli wails, ‘resembling the sun, shorn of its brilliance’.

Rāma, listening to the words of Vāli, replied in turn. He reminded Vāli how he had strayed from the path of virtue in the treatment of his younger brother. His duty was to look after Sugrīva, and instead he banished him from his kingdom, and took his wife too.

Vāli, in his last moments thinking only of his son Angada, understood the words spoken by Rāma. He looked to his brother Sugrīva.

‘O dear brother, happiness was not ordained for us at one and the same time,’ spoke Vāli.

Asking for his brother’s forgiveness, Vāli also asked Sugrīva to look after his son Angada, as if he were his own. Finally saying goodbye to his son, Vāli died.

Tāra his wife, looked to her husband, fallen on the ground.

‘Surely O lord, the earth is dearer to you in comparison with me as you lie embracing her, without responding to me.’ she cried.

Sugrīva too, was overwhelmed with grief. Seeing what he had done, and the pain he had caused to Vāli’s wife and son, Sugrīva knew he would regret his actions as long as his life would last. Unable to bear this burden, Sugrīva said he would take his own life.

Rāma, sadenned at the grief of his friend, told him that it was now his duty to look after the kingdom, and to watch over Vāli’s son. We cannot ignore our duties on this earth, he reminded Sugrīva.

And so it was, that with Vāli’s death, Sugrīva assumed the throne of Kishkinda, and pledged to help Srī Rāma find his Sita.

The Rāmāyana is amongst other things, a tale of what it means to perform our duty. In this light, I have never fully understood the story of Rāma and Vāli. I couldn’t understand why  Rāma could deceive and kill Vāli who was in many ways a king and a ruler of virtue, as he did. When Sugrīva came to fight Vāli, Vāli exclaimed that it was not his desire to kill his younger brother, yet Rāma and Sugrīva transpired to kill Vali all the same.

It made me question ideas of duty and righteousness that the Rāmayana, and Rāma himself espouses, and I am still left wondering why this part of the story transpired as it did.

Nevertheless, with Sugrīva on the throne, the Vanara Army is assembled, and the search begins for Sita. Monkeys and bears are sent to the four corners of the earth to find the wife of Rāma. Sugrīva willed by fate, decided to send his most trusted friends to the south. He sent Angada, endowed with speed and prowess. He sent Nīla, the son of the god of fire and he sent Jāmbavān the son of Brahma. He also sent of course his most faithful friend, Hanuman. And so these monkey’s along with their army’s were sent to find Sitā, the heart of Rāma.

 

 

 

 

A bicycle ride along the Trail of Rama part II

I had descended the final part of the cave and found myself in Vāli Gopha. I looked up, realising that from every direction, I was enclosed by rock. In the middle of the small space, however, lay one piece of stone a few feet high. It was painted orange, and had on it a picture of Shiva. A trident stood next to the rock. I was amazed that such a place existed, in the heart of this mountain.

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In Vali Gopha
Looking up from Vali Gopha
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Down into the cave

The cave seemed so detached from its surroundings, that it seemed to be in a world of its own. Reflecting, I could think of only two words to describe it, Shakti and Shaant, Strength and calm.

The sun pierced the rocks, breaking through the few spaces between them, accompanied only by the gentle touch of the wind.

I had assumed it was the place where Vali was trapped, and I started my adventure back out of the cave to my bike, retracing the arrows but following them in the opposite direction. It was only around 10am by this point but it was already touching 30 degrees. I felt like it was time to get a drink, and so picking up my bike, I found a small stall just outside the mandir.

I asked for a cold drink, and the owner, an older man with a modest smile, knowing I was not a local, replied in almost faultless English. I was surprised and we started talking. He told me that he was a retired engineer who chose to spend his days here working behind the stall, because it brought him a peace that he been unable to find elsewhere.

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Sirnath

I asked him about the place I had just visited and he told me that it was not where Vali was trapped, but where he did his penance to Shiva, giving him his incredible power. It was this penance, he told me, that meant Vali could only be killed through a trick rather than in a fight. The feelings that came to me in the cave suddenly started to make sense. Shakti and Shaant.

Furthermore, he asked me if I had been to Anegundi. Remembering the name rang a bell I recalled that it was the temple I had found earlier. Intrigued, he told me that it was believed to be the place where Rama killed Vali. It turned out that I had stumbled upon the location of a main chapter of the Ramayana, by accident.

Enjoying how my day was unfolding, I thanked the owner Sirnath, and continued my journey. I rode my bike down the winding paths of the hills, feeling as free as I ever had.

I now went in search of Anjanaya Hill. A temple 600 steps up a hill, that was said to mark the birthplace of Hanuman.

A bicycle ride along the Trail of Rama part III

The temple dedicated to Hanuman was again, as in Chitrakoot, located 600 steps up a magnificent hill. Parking my bike at its base, I started my ascent, trying to block out the fierce heat, focusing only on the task ahead.

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Up to Anjanaya Hill

With each step up, I could see more of Hampi, and its beauty continued to captivate me. After about 400 steps I started to tire. The morning of cycling had started to take its toll, and so I stopped, taking some time to appreciate all before me. However, soon after, I was quickly overtaken by a pair of elderly women, wearing sandals and sarees. They stopped next to me and we started talking. Although conversation was hard to follow, it was what was not said by these two that spoke to me. Although the way they held themselves indicated a fatigue, their faces would not show it. Wearing only a smile and bright eyes, it seemed as though it was a journey they had completed many times before, and would complete many times again. It reminded me about the power of this myth, this legend, and how alive it is to all those that follow it.

Reaching the top, finally, I was greeted by a small structure. It stood humbly admist the strength of the wind. Hanuman is the the son of Vayu, the God of Wind, and so feeling its presence, I couldn’t help but think that it was Vayu still watching over his son. Once Hanuman was struck by the weapons of the God Indra, and in his anger Vayu took away all the air on the earth. If that was his anger, then maybe this breeze was his blessing.

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The top of the hill

I walked into the temple and encountered a single man singing the Hanuman Chalisa, and it filled me with joy. For the few verses I knew, we sung together, and we smiled.

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Hanuman is strength and power. He is will and determination. He is wisdom and devotion. He is a friend to all those around him. Hanuman is the one who as a child, thought the sun was a mango, and desperate to eat it, flew up to the heavens to take hold of it. Hanuman is joy, and he brings hope to all those that follow him.

In all the places I have been to that have Hanuman as their focus, I have seen this. His birth place was a reminder of all of this and his humility. The very fact that at its centre rested a shrine to Rama, Sita and Lakshmana, with Hanuman only on the periphery is perhaps the best example of this.

I have realised that perhaps Hanuman is often depicted in orange, because that is the colour of the feelings he inspires in those around him. His bright, illuminating glow cannot help but fill the hearts of those who follow him, even as the sun upon rising, will bring light to the darkest parts of the Earth. I understood why those two women I had seen climbing the hill did so with a smile, in spite of the immense difficulty it posed them. They wanted to see the birthplace of Hanuman, the orange beacon at the top of this hill of Hampi.

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Hampi

Feeling a complete contentment at how my day had unfurled, I began my climb down the hill, looking out onto the vast landscape. The rocks still exuding their orange glow, one that I understood so much more now. I had one more stop on my trail and that was Rishyamookh hill, the location where Rama met Hanuman and Sugriva for the first time.

Asking a few locals for direction, I eventually found a quite ashram, and again leaving my bike, I crossed a small stream and encountered three Sadhus. One, with a beard so long that it tickled his belly button, another asleep on the ground, and a third who upon seeing me, opened up the small cave, which hosted icons of Hanuman and Sugriva. After appreciating this immensely powerful space, I exited, and was greeted by the third Sadhu.

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The ashram

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I was again offered lunch, and after my experience at Sharabhanga’s ashram, it was a lunch I was happy to eat, and one welcomed all the more by my stomach which seemed to growl in anger at the rough morning it had had. However, it was soon soothed, and keen to ask questions, I started talking to the third Sadhu, perhaps still working off the excitement the day had provided me with. He smiled, and looked at me.

‘Eat first, talk after.’

I laughed to myself and continued to eat. A few minutes had passed and he said a few words to me. I replied, and thinking it was okay to talk again, I continued enthusiastically to ask questions.

‘Eat first, talk after,’ he repeated.

I finished my food, and seeing the coconut and the ash I found myself knowing exactly how to clean my plate, and after doing so, I was able to ask my questions.

We discussed what happened here, how long he had been here, and what he thought of the Ramayana. I could tell that with all his heart he believed the Ramayana was true, and with this sheer conviction telling me all I needed to know, I thanked him and set off back to my guest house. It has been a long morning. I was hot, tired and my legs had started to cramp up with a few hundred metres to get back. But, I could not have wished for a more perfect day. I had set out wishing to see only a few places, but the wealth of the Ramayana showed itself to me, and for that, I am grateful.

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Inside the cave

After seeing a few more sights in the morning, I said goodbye to Hampi. It’s orange glow will always remind me of the joy that Hampi brings when on the Trail of Rama.