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Janaka had sent for them, and Vishvamitra named the thing they should go and see: a svayamvara, the rite in which a bride chooses her husband. There, he said, they would see whom God gave the greatness to. Lakshmana had an answer for him, and it turned on grace. A city was about to leave its houses and its work for an arena. Its king would see that everyone in it was given a seat.
Rama and his brother come into an assembly of kings. Everyone who looks sees them after his own feeling: warriors, crooked kings, asuras in kings’ guise, townspeople, women, the learned, Janaka’s kin, the queens, yogis, devotees, and Sita. The two are charming from nail to crown, and the eyes that rest on them do not move. Janaka clasps the sage’s feet and seats the three on the finest platform. Then the kings begin to speak: some to say go home. Some to laugh and boast that for Sita’s sake they would defeat even Death in battle. And some, smiling, to say that they have gained that day the fruit of being born. Flowers fall from the sky, and Janaka sends for his daughter.
The people seated at the bow-sacrifice
The main figures in this episode
- Rama and Lakshmana Dasharatha’s sons. They go with the sage to see the hall of the bow-sacrifice. Lakshmana answers the sage that the vessel of fame is the one his grace falls on. The two shine in the assembly of kings like two full moons among stars. They are seen by every onlooker after his own feeling, and are charming from nail to crown. Each person sees Rama with his face turned toward himself. The two are seated beside the sage on the finest platform, and the kings talk about Rama.
- The sages Vishvamitra, who says they should go and see Sita’s svayamvara. He goes with the two to the hall and has his feet clasped by Janaka. He is told the king’s story and shown the arena. He praises its making and is seated with the brothers. And the band of sages in his company, who rejoice at Lakshmana’s words and give their blessing.
- Janaka the king. He sees the crowd grow great and has his servants, pure of heart, seat everyone, high and low, each according to their own place. He rejoices at the sight of the two brothers and clasps the sage’s feet. He tells him his own story and shows him the whole arena. He is glad to hear its making praised. He seats the brothers and the sage on the finest platform. Knowing the moment is right, he sends for Sita.
- Sita Janaka’s daughter, who looks at Rama with a love and a joy that cannot be told. The proud kings boast that for her sake they would defeat even Death. The righteous kings call her the mother of the world. At the end of the episode her father sends for her and her companions set out with her.
- The assembled kings among whom the crooked fear Rama as a great and terrible image. Asuras in kings’ guise see him as Death made manifest. All of them lose heart at the sight of Rama. Some say to one another to go home with their fame and might lost. The proud laugh and boast that for Sita’s sake they would defeat even Death in battle. The righteous smile and answer that Rama will wed her. They ask who can win a battle against Dasharatha’s sons, and say that they have gained that day the fruit of being born.
- The townspeople and other onlookers children, the young, the old, women and men, who leave house and work for the arena. They are seated, high and low, each according to their own place. The great warriors who see heroism in a body, the women who see love in an image, the learned who see the cosmic form. Janaka’s kin, the queens, the yogis, and the devotees of the Lord, each seeing after his own feeling. And the gods, who watch from their chariots in the sky, rain flowers, and sing.
A journey that begins with the guru’s grace
Vishvamitra went on: “Let us go and see Sita’s svayamvara. Let us see whom God will give the greatness to.” Lakshmana said: “The vessel of fame is the one, master, on whom your grace falls.” The commentary hears in his answer that the credit for breaking the bow will go to that one.
All the sages rejoiced to hear those fine words, and every one of them, glad at heart, gave a blessing. Then Rama, with the band of sages, set out to see the hall of the bow-sacrifice. He had walked that ground before, east of the city, with the city’s children showing him its making: the paved floor of great breadth and the pure altar. The gold platforms on four sides made for the kings who would sit there. The ring of platforms close behind them where the townspeople would go and sit. And near those the vast, handsome white houses where all the women would sit and watch, each according to her family.
The news reached all the townspeople: the two brothers had come to the arena. Children and the young and the old, women and men, forgot house and work and set out, all of them, for the arena.
Janaka saw the crowd grow great and called all his servants, who were pure of heart. “Go at once to all the people,” he said, “and give each of them a fitting seat.” With soft and humble words the servants seated the men and the women, the high, the middle, the low, and the least, each according to their own place.
One form, and many ways of seeing it
At that same hour the princes came, and it was as if enchantment had spread over their bodies. Oceans of virtue, accomplished, fine heroes, their beautiful bodies one dark and one fair. In the assembly of kings they shone like two full moons among the stars. And as each one’s feeling was, so was the image of the Lord he saw.
The great warriors saw the form as if heroism had put on a body. The crooked kings looked at the Lord and were afraid, as if he were a great and terrible image. The asuras who were there by deceit, in the guise of kings, saw the Lord as Death made manifest. The townspeople saw the two brothers as the ornament of men, a joy to the eyes. The women gazed with glad hearts, each after her own liking, as if love had put on an utterly matchless image and shone.
To the learned the Lord appeared as the cosmic form, with many faces, hands, feet, eyes, and heads. To Janaka’s kin he seemed as dear as a near relative seems. The queens, with Janaka, looked on him with love as for a child, a love past telling. To the yogis he shone as the supreme reality: calm, pure, even, and self-luminous. The devotees of the Lord saw the two brothers as their chosen deity, the giver of every joy.
And the feeling with which Sita looked at Rama: that love and that joy are not to be told. She felt them in her heart, and even she could not tell them. In this way, as each one’s feeling was, so he saw Rama.
In the assembly of kings shone the princes of Kosala, beautiful of body, one dark and one fair, thieves of the eyes of the world.
The two princes from nail to crown
Both images were enchanting by nature, and the likeness of ten million Kamadevas fell small beside them. Their fine faces shamed the autumn moon, and their lotus eyes pleased the heart. Their lovely glance stole the mind of Kamadeva, and it pleased the heart. There were fine cheeks, earrings swinging at the ears, a beautiful chin and lips, and a soft way of speaking.
Their smile shamed the rays of the moon. Their brows were arched and their noses enchanting, and on their broad foreheads the marks shone. At the sight of their hair, rows of bees were ashamed. The commentary describes that hair as black and curling. Yellow four-cornered caps were handsome on their heads, with flower buds fashioned here and there between, which the commentary reads as embroidered. On fine necks like conch shells ran lovely lines, as if they were the utmost of beauty in the three worlds. The commentary counts the lines as three.
On their breasts hung fine necklaces of elephant jewels, which the commentary calls elephant pearls, and garlands of holy basil. Their shoulders were like a bull’s, their bearing a lion’s, their arms broad, a treasure of strength. Quivers and yellow cloths were tied at the waist. There were arrows in their hands and bows on their fine left shoulders. Yellow sacred threads were handsome on them. From nail to crown they were charming, and a great beauty had spread over them.
All the people were happy at the sight of them. Eyes stayed fixed, and the pupils did not move.
Janaka’s welcome, and a face turned to everyone
Janaka rejoiced at the sight of the two brothers, and then he went and clasped the sage’s lotus feet. Making his entreaty, he told the sage his own story, and he showed him the whole arena. What that story held is not told. Wherever the two fine princes went, everyone looked on amazed.
Each one saw Rama with his face turned toward himself, and no one knew the special secret of it. The sage told the king that the arena was finely made. The king was glad and felt a great happiness. The commentary ties that happiness to the praise coming from Vishvamitra, a sage without wants, free of attachment, and wise.
One platform among all the platforms was more beautiful, brighter, and broader than the rest. There the king seated the two brothers with the sage.
Hearts that lose, and the laughter of pride
At the sight of the Lord all the kings lost heart, as the stars do when the full moon rises. Such was the conviction in every mind: Rama will break the bow. There is no doubt of it. The commentary ties that conviction to the splendor they had seen. It sets a second certainty in every mind as well: even with Shiva’s great bow unbroken, Sita will put the garland on Rama’s breast. In that the commentary hears the kings’ own reckoning that they had lost either way, and that the victory would be Rama’s.
And they said: “Thinking this, brothers, go home, with fame, might, strength, and splendor lost.”
Other kings, blind for want of discernment and proud, laughed to hear it. “Even with the bow broken, the wedding is a hard thing to reach,” they said. “Without breaking it, who weds the princess?” The commentary reads the hard wedding as their own refusal to let Sita go easily. The proud kings went on: “Let it even be Death, once. For Sita’s sake we will win against him too in battle.”
Hearing this, other kings smiled: righteous men, devotees of the Lord, and clever.
Sweets in the mind, and the sea of nectar close by
“Rama will wed Sita,” the righteous kings said, “putting away the pride of the kings. Who can win a battle against Dasharatha’s sons, bold in war?”
They went on: “Do not die for nothing, boasting. Does hunger get quenched by sweets in the mind? Hear our counsel, which is utterly pure: know Sita at heart to be the mother of the world. Think of Rama as the father of the world, and fill your eyes with his beauty. Beautiful, giving joy, heaps of every virtue, these two brothers dwell in Shiva’s heart.” The commentary adds that such a chance would not come again and again, and that the two whom Shiva himself keeps hidden in his heart had come before their eyes.
“Leaving the sea of nectar close by, why run after a mirage and die? Go and do, each of you, what pleases you. We have gained today the fruit of being born.” The commentary reads the sea of nectar as the sight of the Lord, and the mirage as the false hope of winning Sita for a wife.
So saying, the good kings, full of love, began to gaze at that matchless form.
Flowers from the sky, and Sita sent for
The gods watched from the chariots they rode in the sky. They rained down flowers and sang sweetly.
Then Janaka, knowing the moment was right, sent for Sita. All her companions, quick-witted and beautiful, set out with her, bringing her with respect.
Voices of pride, and voices of humility
Rama says no word in this episode. The sage wonders whom God will give the greatness to, and Lakshmana’s answer sets it on grace. The servants seat the crowd with soft words, each according to their own place. Then the princes come among the kings. Each one there sees the Lord’s image by his own feeling: a body of heroism, a terrible image, Death, an ornament, love, the cosmic form. A kinsman, a child, the supreme reality, a chosen deity. Sita looks at Rama with a love that even she cannot tell. No one knows the secret of the face that each one sees turned toward himself.
When the kings speak, they speak in three voices. Hearts that have lost say go home. The proud laugh, call the wedding hard even for the one who breaks the bow, and boast that for Sita’s sake they will defeat even Death. The righteous smile and speak of sweets in the mind, of the mother of the world and the father of the world, and of the sea of nectar close by. They end on the fruit of being born, gained that day. Then the good kings gaze at the form with love, and the gods in the sky rain flowers. Janaka, knowing the moment is right, sends for Sita. The next episode opens on her beauty, which cannot be told and beside which every likeness seems small.
The same story, elsewhere: Valmiki’s Ramayana, chapter 4: Mithila, the Breaking of Shiva’s Bow, and the Wedding of Sita.
Source: the Gita Press edition of Tulsidas’s Ramcharitmanas, Balkand, doha 240 to 246, read with Hanuman Prasad Poddar’s Hindi commentary.