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The king grieves on in his own mind. Kaikeyi sees his wretched state, and anger flares in her mind. She asks whether Bharata is not his son, and whether he bought her for a price. She demands an answer, yes or no. Later she sets her terms. If at daybreak Rama does not go to the forest in the dress of a sage, she says, it will be her death and the king’s infamy. This episode of the Ramcharitmanas is the long exchange between the two of them.
The king opens his eyes and answers her. He says that Bharata and Rama are his two eyes. He will send a messenger in the morning, he says, and give Bharata the kingdom on a fine day sought out. He swears by Rama that Rama’s mother said nothing, and asks what Rama’s offense is. He says his life depends on the sight of Rama. When she has set her terms, he holds her feet and offers her his head. He falls to the ground crying Rama’s name, and she speaks again. He tells her the fault is not hers, and asks her to say nothing again while he lives. Then he falls again, and the queen says nothing.
The king who pleads, and the queen who holds firm
The main figures in this episode
- Dasharatha the king, who says he will give Bharata the kingdom and pleads with Kaikeyi to keep Rama. He swears by Rama, offers her his head, and falls to the ground. He tells her the fault is not hers, and falls again.
- Kaikeyi the queen, who tells the king that he said he would give the boon. She demands an answer, yes or no, sets her terms for daybreak, and answers his pleas with hard words. At the end she says nothing.
- Rama of whom both speak. The king calls him and Bharata his two eyes, asks what his offense is, and says his life depends on the sight of him. Kaikeyi’s terms are that he go to the forest at daybreak in the dress of a sage.
- Bharata to whom the king says he will give the kingdom. The king says that Bharata does not want the king’s place, even by mistake.
- Kausalya Rama’s mother. The king swears by Rama that she said nothing. Kaikeyi says that as Kausalya wished her good, so she will give Kausalya such fruit.
Hard words upon a silence
The king grieved on in his own mind. Kaikeyi saw his wretched state, and anger flared in her mind. “Is Bharata not your son?” she said. “Did you buy me for a price?” The commentary reads the second question as asking whether she is not his wedded wife.
“If it struck you like an arrow when you heard it, why do you not speak with care? Give an answer. Say yes, or say no. In Raghu’s line, you are a man true to his word.”
“You said you would give. Now, do not give the boon. Give up truth, and take infamy in the world. Praising truth, you said you would give a boon. You thought she would ask for parched grain.”
“Whatever Shibi, Dadhichi, and Bali had said, they gave up body and wealth and kept the vow of their word.” Kaikeyi spoke very bitter words. It was as if she were putting salt on a burn.
Taking heart, the king, who bore the yoke of dharma, opened his eyes. Beating his head, he drew a long breath. “She has struck me in a vulnerable spot,” he said.
Two eyes, and the kingdom offered to Bharata
Before him the king saw her burning with great anger. It was as if a sword of rage were drawn. Ill wit was its hilt, and cruelty its edge. It had been sharpened on the whetstone that was Manthara.
The king saw it, dire and hard. In the commentary’s reading, he thought: “Will it truly take my life?” Hardening his breast, the king spoke humbly, in words pleasing to her.
“Beloved, how can you speak such ill words, timid one, destroying trust and love? Bharata and Rama are my two eyes. I say it in truth, with Shiva as witness.”
“In the morning I will surely send a messenger. The two brothers will hear and come at once. I will seek out a fine day and have every preparation made. With the drum sounded, I will give Bharata the kingdom.” The commentary names the two brothers as Bharata and Shatrughna.
“Rama has no greed for the kingdom. He has great love for Bharata. Weighing elder and younger in my mind, I was following the custom of kings.”
A hundred oaths by Rama, and the king asks Rama’s offense
“A hundred oaths by Rama, I say it by my nature. Rama’s mother never said anything. I did it all without asking you. And so my wish has come to nothing.”
“Leave anger now, and make ready the auspicious gear. In a few days Bharata will be crown prince. One thing has grieved me. The second boon you asked is a hard one.”
“My heart still burns in its heat. Is this anger, or a jest, or truly true? Leaving rage, tell me Rama’s offense. Everyone says Rama is thoroughly good.”
“You too praised him and showed him love. Now, on hearing it, a doubt has come to me.” The commentary gives the doubt its content, whether that praise and that love were false. “How would one whose nature is favorable even to an enemy go against his mother?”
“Beloved, leave off jest and anger. Ask with discernment, so that I may now see Bharata’s royal consecration with my eyes full.”
A life that hangs on the sight of Rama
“A fish may live without water. A serpent may live without its jewel, wretched and sorrowing. I say it by my nature, with no deceit in my mind. My life is nothing without Rama. Consider it in your heart and see, beloved, you who are skilled. My life depends on the sight of Rama.”
Hearing the soft words, Kaikeyi burned fiercely. It was as if oblations of ghee were falling into a fire.
Kaikeyi said: “Why not try ten million means? Your maya will not work here. Give, or take infamy by saying no. I do not like much contrivance.” The commentary reads the maya she names as trickery.
“Rama is good, you are good and clever, and Rama’s mother is good. I have come to know them all. As Kausalya wished my good, so I will give her such fruit, in a way to be remembered.”
“If at daybreak Rama does not go to the forest in the dress of a sage, it is my death and your infamy, king. Know it in your mind.”
The king at her feet, as if before a river in flood
So saying, the crooked queen stood up. It was as if a river of rage had risen in flood. That river had appeared from a mountain of sin. It was full of the water of wrath, and it could not be looked at. The two boons were its two banks, and hard stubbornness its current. The urging of Manthara’s words was its whirlpool. Felling the tree that was the king, root and all, the river ran on toward the sea of trouble.
The king saw that the thing was truly true. In the guise of a woman, death was dancing on his head. Holding her feet, he entreated her and seated her. “Do not become an axe to the Sun’s line,” he said. “Ask for my head. I give it to you this instant. Do not kill me by parting me from Rama. Keep Rama, by whatever means. Otherwise your breast will burn for the whole of your life.”
The king saw that the sickness was past cure. He fell to the ground, beating his head and crying in words of utmost anguish: “Rama! Rama! Master of Raghu’s line!”
Words like poison in a wound, and a hard appeal to truth
The king was distraught, and every limb went slack. It was as if a she-elephant had felled a wish-tree. His throat dried, and no words came to his mouth. It was as if a fish were wretched without water.
Kaikeyi spoke again, bitter and hard. It was as if she were putting poison into a wound. “If this was to be your deed in the end, on what strength did you say ask, ask? Can two things be at one time, king? To laugh aloud, and to puff out the cheeks? To be called a giver, and to be a miser? Can there be safety and well-being in the warrior’s part? Give up your word, or hold your courage. Do not lament like a helpless woman. Body, wife, son, home, wealth, and land are declared like straw to one true to his word.”
Hearing words that found the vital place, the king said: “Say what you will. There is no fault of yours at all. My death has fastened on you like a ghoul, and it makes you speak.”
The king’s regret, and the queen’s silence
“Bharata does not want the king’s place, even by mistake. By the Creator’s power, ill thinking has come to dwell in your heart. All this is the outcome of my sins, by which the Creator has turned against me at an ill hour.” The commentary reads the Creator’s power here as the power of what was to be.
“Handsome Ayodhya will be settled well again. The lordship of Rama, the abode of every virtue, will come to be. All the brothers will do him service. Rama’s greatness will be in the three worlds.”
“Your stain and my regret will not be wiped away even in death. They will never go. Now do what seems good to you. Sit out of my sight, hiding your face.”
“As long as I live, I say with joined hands, do not say anything again. You will repent in the end, luckless woman. You are killing a cow for its sinew.”
The king fell, having said in ten million ways: “Why do you bring ruin?” Kaikeyi, clever in guile, said nothing. It was as if she were waking a cremation ground. The commentary reads the image as a spell over the dead, perfected in a cremation ground.
The order of the exchange
Kaikeyi asked whether Bharata was not the king’s son, and told him to answer yes or no. The king opened his eyes. He said that Bharata and Rama were his two eyes, and that he would give Bharata the kingdom. He swore by Rama that Rama’s mother had said nothing. He asked what Rama’s offense was, and said his life depended on the sight of Rama. Kaikeyi set her terms for daybreak and stood up. The king held her feet, offered her his head, and fell to the ground. Kaikeyi spoke to him again, bitterly. The king told her the fault was not hers, and that Ayodhya would be settled again. He told her to sit out of his sight and say nothing again while he lived. He fell, and Kaikeyi said nothing.
The same story, elsewhere: Valmiki’s Ramayana, chapter 7: Manthara, Kaikeyi, and the Two Boons.
Source: the Gita Press edition of Tulsidas’s Ramcharitmanas, Ayodhyakand, doha 30 to 36, read with Hanuman Prasad Poddar’s Hindi commentary.