The Ramayana Read Online Free PDF Page A

splendor shone on them from the sky. They saw Mahavishnu, the Savior, mounted on his golden eagle. He wore robes glowing like the sun against his sea-blue skin. He carried the Sudarshana chakra, the Panchajanya, and the Kaumodaki. Brahma and the Devas worshipped him with folded hands.
    Across winds of light that Garuda’s wings stirred, Brahma cried to Vishnu, “Lord, be born as a man to rid the earth of Ravana of Lanka. Or the Rakshasa will plunge the world into hell, long before the kali yuga begins. Only you can kill him; for evil though he is, he is greater than any creature in heaven or earth.”
    Vishnu spoke to Brahma and the Devas in his voice as deep as time: “I will be born as Dasaratha of Ayodhya’s son, and I will kill Ravana. I will rule the earth for eleven thousand years, before I return to Vaikunta.”
    He vanished from above them. How they yearned for him to appear again, but the Blue One was gone.
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    On earth, on the northern bank of the Sarayu, Dasaratha’s putrakama yagna was almost complete. Rishyashringa chanted the final mantras from the Atharva Veda. The fire leaped up, tall as trees, and the flames licked themselves into a dark figure: a divine messenger, his hair a lion’s mane around his livid face. He wore burning ornaments studded with great jewels and a chandrahara, a moon-sliver, on his chest.
    He stepped out of the fire, and flames were his body as he stood solemnly before Dasaratha and Rishyashringa. He carried a crystal chalice in his hands, with a silvery payasa brimming in it. He looked as Dhanvantari must have, when he emerged from the Kshirasagara with the amrita.
    Said that being, in an ancient tongue of fire and earth: “I come from Brahma, Grandsire of worlds. He sends this payasa to your queens so they will bear you the sons you long for.”
    He held the chalice out to Dasaratha. The king stepped forward and took it. At once the messenger vanished. Like a man bearing the greatest treasure he could ever have, Dasaratha brought the chalice to his queens.
    He came to Kausalya, his first wife, and said to her, “Look, the Gods have answered our prayers. You shall bear me a son to be my heir.”
    With his own hands, he made her drink half the payasa. Then he went to his second wife, Sumitra, and fed her half of what was left. He went to his youngest queen, Kaikeyi, and gave her half of what remained. Finally he went back to give Sumitra the rest.
    And they heard the people of Ayodhya crying, “Jaya! Jaya!” as they broke into song.
    Hope against Ravana of Lanka kindled in their hearts, the Devas came down from the sky to receive their share of the havis. Taking the burnt offerings in shining hands, they vanished back into their subtle realms. Dasaratha and his people returned to Ayodhya, with joy come among them like another god.
    After being rewarded lavishly by the euphoric king, Rishyashringa and the other brahmanas went back to their homes.
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    6. King Dasaratha’s sons
    Dasaratha was as happy as a boy, as if only now the Gods had blessed him with manhood. He felt as strong as a Deva. The first few nights after the aswamedha yagna he went to his queens by turns; he made love as he had when he had just married them.
    In some months, they announced in joy, Kausalya first, then Sumitra and Kaikeyi, that they were all pregnant. Celebrations broke out in Ayodhya: the Gods had not betrayed Dasaratha and his people. That year flew by for the king in cosseting his wives. He fed them with delicacies that stroked their palates or their fancy. He clothed them in finery that not even queens had worn before. Ayodhya was festive all year long, in breathless anticipation.
    The ice on the Himalaya began to melt as the sun drifted north again and spring returned to Bharatavarsha. This was no common spring, but wore rainbow-hued lotuses in its hair, flowers that bloomed once in a thousand years. A hush of expectation