The last post itself presents two pieces of nuggets a ruler should follow. The first one - we are looking at the path of Shatrughna for a while and it ends in the last post when he gets the guidance from Rama to spend a week in the company of near and dear. He was then advised to return to his kingdom of Madhura which Shatrughna obliges as a rightful duty of a ruler. After Shatrughna had spent twelve years away from Ayodhya, he longed to stay with Rama. However, Rama reminded him that a king's duty is to protect his people and maintain the security of his kingdom and asks him to return with his escort after a brief stay. Shatrughna didn’t even question Rama's advice—he accepted it, understanding the wisdom behind it. Thus, the first advice says a ruler must prioritize duty over personal wishes and listens to counsel from experienced and wise figures.
The second one is – there is an episode on the death of a Brahmin’s son. A Brahmin, old and grief-stricken, comes to the gates of Rama’s palace carrying the lifeless body of his young son, who has died prematurely. The child had not yet completed his fourteenth year. In deep anguish, the Brahmin cries out repeatedly, mourning the loss of his only child. What makes the event unusual, and shocking is that in Rama’s kingdom—where righteousness prevailed and the king was believed to protect not just the people but the very moral fabric of society—no such untimely deaths had ever occurred. The Brahmin, upholding the belief that the moral conduct of the king directly affects the fate of his subjects, concludes that his son’s death must be due to some fault or sin committed by Rama himself. He declares that under the rule of a righteous king, such a death should be impossible, and therefore, the only explanation is that Rama must have committed an adharmic (unrighteous) act. With growing bitterness, he accuses Rama of failing in his kingly duties and thus bringing death into his realm. His words are sharp and accusing, highlighting a central belief of the time: a king's personal righteousness was seen as the foundation of social and cosmic order. Thus, based on the conduct of the ruler depends the lives of the subjects. We can look at the continuation of this episode in the following chapters.
In chapter 74, Narada gives a discourse on the untimely death of Brahmin’s son.
Disturbed by the Brahmin’s accusations and aware of the sacred responsibility of a monarch, Rama summons his ministers, his brothers, and the city elders. Sage Vasishtha, his chief spiritual advisor, leads eight eminent sages into the royal court: Markandeya, Maudgalya, Vamadeva, Kashyapa, Katyayana, Javali, Gautama, and Narada. Rama respectfully welcomes them, offering them appropriate honors and explains the Brahmin’s lament, seeking their counsel.
In the gathered assembly, Sage Narada responds with a profound exposition on the nature of cosmic order (dharma) and the history of ascetic practice across the four Yugas (ages). He begins by describing the Krita Yuga (Golden Age), in which only Brahmins practiced asceticism. During this era, purity and righteousness reigned supreme. No one died prematurely, as everyone was enlightened, and the world was in complete harmony with the cosmic order.
In the subsequent Treta Yuga, the era in which Rama rules, the Kshatriyas (warrior class) began to undertake asceticism alongside the Brahmins. It was during this time that the caste system was fully established, with each caste assigned specific duties. The Brahmins and Kshatriyas were considered spiritually and socially equal in their power and practice of austerities. However, the Vaishyas (merchant class) and Shudras (servant class) were restricted in their religious roles, with Shudras expected to serve the other three castes and not permitted to engage in asceticism or penance.
As the ages declined in virtue, entering the Dvapara Yuga, evil and falsehood began to grow. Dharma weakened further—symbolized by it standing on only two legs—and the Vaishyas began practicing penance. Even in this less pure age, Shudras were still forbidden to undertake austerities. Only in the Kali Yuga, the age of darkness and chaos, are Shudras permitted to perform ascetic practices, as social and cosmic boundaries begin to dissolve.
Narada then reveals the crux of the issue: somewhere in Rama’s kingdom, a Shudra is performing rigorous penance in violation of varna-dharma, the divinely sanctioned duties of caste appropriate to the Treta Yuga. This transgression, according to Narada, has caused a cosmic imbalance, which led to the unnatural death of the Brahmin’s son.
He reminds Rama of his sacred duty as a ruler: to protect righteousness and destroy unrighteousness wherever it arises. If evil is left unchecked, the king is considered culpable and bound for hell. Conversely, when justice is upheld, the king gains a share of the merit from the virtuous acts performed in his kingdom. Therefore, Rama must investigate this violation of dharma and restore balance to prevent further suffering and revive the Brahmin’s child.
Narada’s counsel makes it clear that in the moral framework of the epic, the king is not just a political figure but the upholder of cosmic order. Rama must now act, not out of anger, but as the guardian of divine law.
In chapter 75, Rama makes a tour of inspection of his kingdom.
In the resplendent city of Ayodhya, Lord Rama, the scion of the Raghu race, sat in serene majesty when the divine sage Narada approached and spoke nectar-like words that delighted the king’s heart. Inspired and uplifted, Rama turned to his ever-faithful brother Lakshmana and said, “Dear friend, steadfast in your vows, go at once to console that eminent Brahmin. Take the child’s body and place it in a jar filled with oil, mingled with precious unguents and fragrant salves, so that it may be preserved and protected from decay.” Lakshmana, marked with auspicious signs and devoted to duty, accepted the command and left to perform the solemn task with care.
Once his instructions were issued, Rama, the illustrious Kakutstha, turned his thoughts to the celestial vehicle, Pushpaka. Summoning the divine chariot through sheer will, he called, “Come hither!” The golden Pushpaka, a chariot animated by its own presiding deity, immediately appeared before him, radiant and resplendent. It bowed respectfully and addressed Rama with reverence, saying, “Behold, I am here at your service, O Long-armed Prince!”
Acknowledging Pushpaka’s devotion, Rama bowed to the assembled Rishis and ascended the magnificent chariot. Armed with his formidable bow, twin quivers, and a shining sword, the great Raghava entrusted the governance of the city to his brothers—Saumitri (Lakshmana) and Bharata—before setting out. His purpose was to uncover the cause of cosmic imbalance that had resulted in the untimely death of the Brahmin’s child. Rama embarked on this sacred mission, determined to traverse the four quarters of the earth and uphold dharma.
First, Rama directed his course toward the western region. With divine swiftness, Pushpaka soared through the skies, and Rama observed the land closely from above. Yet, there was no sign of wrongdoing or adharma in that direction. He then turned to the north, journeying to the snow-bound expanse of the Himalayas, but again, no trace of evil-doing appeared. Continuing with unwavering resolve, Rama searched the eastern region. There, from the heights of his airborne chariot, he saw peoples of unblemished morals, their hearts pure and their lives as clear as polished mirrors.
Still unfulfilled in his quest, the long-armed prince turned southward. In that meridional region, near the base of the Shaivala Mountains, a vast and still lake came into view. It was along the banks of this serene waterbody that Rama’s eyes fell upon an extraordinary sight—an ascetic performing the most severe form of penance. The hermit, suspended upside-down, bore the signs of prolonged austerity and had surrendered his entire being to spiritual discipline.
Compelled by curiosity and duty, Rama descended and approached the ascetic with humility and interest. “Blessed indeed are you, O Ascetic,” he said, “who has embraced such stern vows. From which caste do you come, O holy one who has grown old in self-mortification and who abides in heroic resolve? I, Rama, son of Dasaratha, wish to know your origin and the aim of your penance. Are you striving for heaven, or do you seek another boon? For what purpose do you endure these rigors?”
Rama continued with respectful inquiry, “Tell me, are you a Brahmin, a Kshatriya, a Vaishya, or a Shudra? Speak truly, for I wish to understand your intention.”
Thus addressed by Rama, the penitent ascetic, his body still suspended and aged by the intensity of his practice, began to reveal his origins and the motivation behind his grueling tapasya. What he disclosed would soon uncover the root of the disruption in the cosmic order that had drawn Rama from his throne to the farthest reaches of the earth.
This concludes chapters 74 and 75 of Uttara Kanda where we had seen Rama trying to find the reason for the untimely death of the son of the Brahmin. At first, he heard from wise sage Narada about the shift in cosmic order due to a Shudra practicing penance in his kingdom in Treta yuga. As the society is divided into four castes and the time into four yugas, there has to be strict adherence to duties by the people from these four castes in the four yugas. Since this has been disturbed, the son of the brahmin died prematurely, Narada concluded. Then Rama set out to find where this has been violated by traveling in Pushpaka chariot in the four directions in his kingdom. While there has been peace and harmony in all directions, in south he found a spot where an ascetic was performing the most severe form of penance. Compelled by curiosity and duty, Rama addressed the hermit, and we will look at the conversation in subsequent chapters.
No comments:
Post a Comment