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Sita is on her way. Her father has sent for her, and her companions have set out with her, singing as they go. The arena they are walking toward holds the kings her father’s vow has drawn from island after island, and Shiva’s bow. And, on the finest platform, the two brothers seated near the sage. There that vow will be proclaimed with an arm raised. The kings will put their hands on the bow. Her father will tell the assembly that the earth is empty of heroes, with Rama present.
Before any of that, the verse stops at her beauty and finds every likeness small. Then the kings rise and fail. Janaka says the Creator has not written his daughter’s marriage. Lakshmana bows his head at Rama’s feet, asks his leave, and says he would break the bow like a mushroom’s stalk. The earth staggers at his words. Rama checks him with a sign. The guru tells Rama to rise. The episode ends with Rama on his feet, a young sun on the platform as on the hill of sunrise.
On the arena’s platform
The main figures in this episode
- Sita Janaka’s daughter, who comes into the arena with her companions singing and the victory garland in her lotus hands. She looks for Rama and sees the two brothers near the sage. Her eyes, finding their treasure, cling with longing. Abashed before her elders and the great assembly, she brings Rama into her heart and looks toward her companions. The people look at her and grieve at her father’s words. At Lakshmana’s words there is joy in her heart.
- Rama who says no word in this episode. Sita looks for him and brings him into her heart. Lakshmana bows his head at his feet and asks his leave. With the guru and the sages he is glad at Lakshmana’s words. He checks his brother with a sign and seats him near with love. He bows his head at the guru’s feet and rises with natural ease, neither joy nor sorrow in his heart.
- Janaka the king who made the vow and has the bards proclaim it. At the sight of the defeated kings he grows agitated and speaks as if in anger: the earth is empty of heroes. The Creator has not written Sita’s marriage. Merit goes if he gives up the vow. What is he to do? Let the girl stay unwed. At Lakshmana’s words he is abashed.
- Lakshmana Rama’s younger brother. He flares at Janaka’s words and cannot speak for fear of Rama. He bows his head at Rama’s feet and says that with Rama’s command he would lift the universe like a ball. He asks Rama’s leave for a feat, to string the bow like a lotus stalk and break it like a mushroom’s stalk. He swears by the Lord’s feet that if he does not, he will not take bow and quiver in hand. Rama checks him with a sign and seats him near.
- Vishvamitra the sage near whom Sita sees the two brothers. He is glad with Rama and the sages at Lakshmana’s words. Knowing the time to be auspicious, he tells Rama to rise, break Shiva’s bow, and end Janaka’s grief.
- The bards and the kings the bards, who come reciting the titles of Janaka’s line and proclaim the vow with an arm raised. Shiva’s bow is Rahu to the moon of the kings’ strength. Ravana and Bana looked at it and went away quietly. Sita, with victory over the three worlds, will choose whoever breaks it today. And the kings, who look at Sita suddenly and fall under delusion, are all filled with desire at the vow. All but those who give it any thought grip the bow and strain in ten million ways. Ten thousand together cannot move it, and they go back ashamed to sit each in his own company. They are afraid when the earth staggers at Lakshmana’s words.
A beauty that poets name with hesitation
Sita’s beauty cannot be told. She is the mine of form and virtue, the mother of the world. To the one telling it every likeness seems small, likenesses that are attached to the limbs of worldly women. Who would describe Sita with those likenesses, be called a bad poet, and take ill fame on himself? The commentary answers for the verse: no good poet would do so foolish and improper a thing. And if Sita were set beside a woman for the comparison, where in the world is a young woman so lovely?
Sarasvati is talkative. Parvati is half a body, which the commentary explains as the form in which half the body is hers and the other half Shiva’s. Rati is very sorrowful, knowing her husband to be bodiless. And how is Sita to be called like Lakshmi, whose dear brothers are poison and wine? The commentary adds how they came to be her brothers: they were born of the sea, as she was.
If there were an ocean of the nectar of beauty, and the tortoise were of supreme form. And splendor were the rope and love the Mandara mountain, and Kamadeva churned it with his own lotus hand. When in this way a Lakshmi came forth, the root of beauty and joy, even then poets would call her Sita’s equal with hesitation. The commentary sets this churning beside the one that brought Lakshmi out of the salt sea. With a hard-backed tortoise, a great serpent for the rope, and a mountain for the churning-stick, every tool of it hard and unlovely. It reads the hesitation this way: even a beauty churned by Kamadeva would be of nature’s making. Sita’s form is beyond it, and is Lakshmi’s own true form. Sita appears by her own glory, the power that is one with the one who holds it.
The companions’ songs, and the garland in her hand
Her clever companions set out with her, singing songs in enchanting voices. On her fresh young body a beautiful sari shone, and the beauty of the mother of the world was great past all measure. Every ornament was handsome in its own place, fashioned on each limb by her companions. When Sita set foot in the arena, men and women were charmed at the sight of her form.
The gods rejoiced and beat their kettledrums. The apsaras rained flowers and sang. In her lotus hands shone the victory garland. Suddenly all the kings were looking at her.
Sita, her mind startled, looked for Rama, and all the kings fell under delusion. She saw the two brothers near the sage. Her eyes, finding their treasure, clung with longing. The commentary says they went to Rama and grew still there. Shy before her elders, and seeing how great the assembly was, she was abashed. She brought Rama into her heart and began to look toward her companions.
A prayer in the mind, and the vow proclaimed to the assembly
At the sight of Rama’s form and Sita’s beauty, men and women gave up blinking. All of them were thinking, and all hesitated to say it. In their minds they entreated the Creator: “Creator, take away Janaka’s dullness quickly, and give him handsome wit like ours. Let the king give up the vow without a thought and marry Sita to Rama. The world will call him good. This pleases everyone. If he insists, in the end his heart will burn.” All the people were sunk in this longing: the dark groom is the match for Sita.
Then Janaka called the bards, and they came reciting the titles of his line, the renown of the house, as the commentary puts it. “Go,” the king said, “and tell my vow.” The bards went, and the joy in their hearts was no small thing. They spoke fine words: “Hear, all you kings. With arm raised, we tell the great vow of Janaka. The strength of the kings’ arms is the moon, and Shiva’s bow is Rahu, heavy and hard, as everyone knows. Ravana and Bana, great warriors, looked at the bow and went away quietly. Whoever in this assembly of kings breaks that hard bow of Shiva today, Sita, with victory over the three worlds, will choose him without a thought, insisting on it.” The commentary names the second of those warriors as the asura Bana. It adds that the two did not dare even to touch the bow, let alone lift it.
The bow does not move from its place
Hearing the vow, all the kings were filled with desire, and those proud of their heroism flared up fiercely in their minds. They girded their waists, rose in a flurry, bowed their heads to their chosen deities, and set out. They glared at Shiva’s bow, eyed it, fixed their gaze on it, gripped it, and strained in ten million ways. The commentary hears a great heat in that glare. It did not rise. Kings who had any thought in their minds did not go near the bow.
The foolish kings glared and gripped it. It did not rise, and they went away ashamed. It was as if the bow, gaining the warriors’ arm-strength, grew heavier and heavier. Then ten thousand kings at once began to lift it, and it did not move for all their moving. Shiva’s bow did not stir, as a faithful wife’s mind does not stir at a lustful man’s words.
All the kings became fit for mockery, as a renunciant without dispassion is. Renown, victory, and great valor they lost to the bow, helplessly, and went. Defeated at heart, the kings lost their luster and went and sat each in his own company.
Janaka’s grief, and the assembly that heard it
At the sight of the kings, Janaka grew agitated and spoke words that seemed steeped in anger. “Many kings came from island after island, hearing of the vow I had set. Gods and danavas came wearing human bodies, and many heroes came, steadfast in war. The enchanting girl, the great victory, the most lovely renown: it is as if Brahma made no one to win them by mastering the bow. Say, whom does this gain not please? No one strung Shiva’s bow. Let stringing and breaking be, brothers: no one could part it from the ground by a sesame seed’s breadth.”
Janaka went on: “Now let no one proud of his heroism flare up. I have learned that the earth is empty of heroes. Give up hope and go, each to his own house. The Creator has not written Sita’s marriage. Merit goes if I give up the vow. Let the girl stay unwed. What am I to do? Had I known the earth to be without heroes, brothers, I would not have made the vow and become a laughingstock.”
At Janaka’s words all the men and women looked at Sita and grieved.
Lakshmana’s anger, and the leave he asks of Rama
Lakshmana flared. His brows went crooked, his lips quivered, and his eyes were full of anger. For fear of Rama he could not speak, and the words had struck him like arrows. He bowed his head at Rama’s lotus feet and spoke true words. The commentary adds that he spoke when he could hold back no longer.
“Wherever there is anyone of the Raghu line, in that assembly no one speaks as Janaka has spoken, unfit words. Knowing Rama, the jewel of the Raghu line, to be present. Listen, Rama: I speak by nature, with no pride in it. If I have your command, I will lift the universe like a ball and smash it like an unbaked pot. I can break Meru like a radish. By the glory of your might, Lord, what is the poor old bow? Master, knowing this, let leave be given, and I will do a feat. Watch that too. I will string the bow like a lotus stalk and run a hundred yojanas with it. I will break it like the stalk of a mushroom by the strength of your might, master. If I do not, I swear by the Lord’s feet that I will not take bow and quiver in hand.” The mushroom, the commentary says, is the kind that springs up in the rains.
As Lakshmana spoke those angry words, the earth staggered and the elephants of the quarters shook. All the people and all the kings were afraid. In Sita’s heart there was joy, and Janaka was abashed. The guru, Rama, and all the sages were glad in their minds and thrilled again and again. With a sign Rama checked Lakshmana, and seated him near with love.
The guru’s command, and Rama rising
Vishvamitra, knowing the time to be auspicious, spoke words full of great love: “Rise, Rama, break Shiva’s bow, and, child, end Janaka’s grief.” At the guru’s words Rama bowed his head at his feet. Neither joy nor sorrow came into his heart. He got up and stood with natural ease, and his stance shamed a young lion.
Rama, the young sun, had risen on the platform as on the hill of sunrise. All the saints opened like lotuses, and the eyes rejoiced like bees.
A word that binds, and anger held in check
Janaka set the vow, and his bards proclaim it. When the kings have failed, he tells them that the earth is empty of heroes and that they are to give up hope and go home. Merit goes, he says, if he gives the vow up. Let the girl stay unwed. Had he known the earth to be without heroes, he would not have made it. At his words the men and women look at Sita and grieve.
Lakshmana’s anger shows first in his face: crooked brows, quivering lips, angry eyes. Fear of Rama holds his tongue, and when he speaks, it is after bowing his head at Rama’s feet, and he asks Rama’s leave. The earth staggers at his words, and Rama checks him with a sign and seats him near with love.
Then the guru speaks to Rama, with great love: rise, break Shiva’s bow, and end Janaka’s grief. Rama bows his head at the guru’s feet, with neither joy nor sorrow in his heart. He rises with natural ease, a young sun on the platform. The next episode opens on the night of the kings’ hopes coming to its end. The stars of their words go dark, the proud kings close like night-lotuses, and the deceitful kings hide like owls.
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 247 to 254, read with Hanuman Prasad Poddar’s Hindi commentary.