After journeying to south, the group led by Hanumān had spent spent weeks trying to find Sita without success.
Dejected that they had been unable to fulfil the wishes of their King Sugrīva, and their friend Rāma, the monkey’s contemplated staying in the south, fearful of the consequences their return without success would yield.
Angada, the son of Vāli, was instead intent on fasting until time brought his death, and made his point clear to Hanumān. After doing so, Angada sank down, weeping on the ground.
Observing this whole event, was Sāmpati, the King of the vultures, and the brother of Jatāyu, Rāma’s friend who had died trying to save Sita from Rāvana. Sāmapti had no wings, and so he initially watched in delight, seeing all the food that had walked his in way in the form of the monkey’s from Kishkinda.
The monkey’s, in their state of dejection, began recounting the pain that had surrounded Rāma. They recounted the exile of Rāma, death of Daśaratha, the abduction of Sītā, the fall of Jatāyu, and the killing of Vāli. All of this they remarked, the result of one boon, granted by Daśaratha, to his wife.
Sāmpati, sat overhearing the conversations below. It has been many years since he heard news of his brother, and so hearing the name Jātayu, filled the vulture with a renewed sense of excitement and life. However, the longer he listened to the monkeys below, did he realise that his brother, dearer to him than life itself, had been killed at the hands of Rāvana.
Calling on the monkey’s ‘ who had given up all hope of life, Sāmpati revealed himself, and asked to hear the story of his brother’s death. Sāmpati weeped at hearing the story, and full of grief recounted his own, and how he had lost his wings, and been separated from his brother.
Sāmpati and Jatāyu set out one day to conquer Indra. They succeeded, and on their return they flew near to the sun ‘encircled by its aureole of rays and illuming heaven’. However, Jatāyu began to fly to close to the sun, growing faint. This reminded me of the story I used to hear as a child of Daedalus and Icarus. Icarus of course, flew to close to the sun, his wings melted, and he died. Sāmpati, continuing his own story noted how upon seeing his brother ‘tormented’ by the sun’s rays, he covered him with this wings out of affection. Jatāyu fell to the ground, but survived with his wings intact, whilst Sāpati’s wings were burnt. He fell to the mountains, separated from his brother where he continued to live unable to leave, without his wings.
Something that interested me here was how Daedalus believed himself unable to save his sun, fearful his own wings would burn. Yet, in the Rāmayana, a story that really teaches one about virtue and duty, Sāmpati saves his younger brother, sacrificing himself in the process. Whilst Icarus and Daedalus has became a tale that warns one of being too ambitious, the story of Jatāyu and Sāmpati is one that tells of an older brother’s duty to his younger sibling. The Rāmayana is of course full of the duties an older brother has to his younger, and the foremost is that he should look after him. Sāmpati, losing his wings, lost his kingdom too. He lost his strength, his prowess and his brother, and fell to the mountains, ‘seeking death alone’. This was the sacrifice he made for his brother. It also reminded me that the Rāmayana is much more than just a myth.
Sāpati also revealed how his son told him he had seen Rāvana abucting Sītā, had seen him take her to Lankā, and told the monkeys how they could get there.
These words as they touched the ears of the monkey’s tasted as sweet as nectar. In a moment, the monkeys, who were willing to starve themselves to death, found hope in the words of Sāmpati. However, the Rāmayana also teaches that virtue and adherence to duty is rewarded. When he fell to the ground, Sāmapti found the ashram of the Sage Niśākara. The sage, knowing what Sāmpati had done, offered him a choice.
He offered to give Sāmpati back his wings there and then. He also added, that if he waited, his wings would return, and he could also help all of mankind by telling Angada where Sītā was, helping the cause of Rāma who needed to defeat Rāvana, helping all of humanity in turn. Sāmpati told the monkeys before him that he had waited 8000 years for their arrival, so he could perform his duty. He told them how his determination to perform his duty inspired him, and dispelled any agony he felt at his own position.
As Sāmapti told his story, a pair of beautiful wings shot forth from his sides. As they did, he felt his strength return to his old body. He was filled with an unequalled ecstasy of delight.
Upon seeing the seemingly impossible happen before their eyes, the monkeys knew that their own purpose could too be achieved. And so, as Sāmpati flew to the skies, the monkey’s continued on their task, with a new sense of hope.
Sāmpati is often brushed over in any telling of the Rāmayana, and his story is rarely fully told. I always thought the Rāmayana was about Rāma. But what has struck me is the extent to which it is not. The story of Sāmapti espouses the message at the core of this ancient text. It places an adherence to duty above all else, and it illustrates the true joy that can be taken from this journey too.
I certainly know I am grateful, to have read the story of Sāmpati, a true hero of the Rāmayana.
