On this page
Rama set out with natural ease, walking as a fine maddened elephant walks. Between his setting out and his coming near the bow, a mother laments, a daughter prays in her mind, and a brother gives the bearers of the earth an order.
Sita‘s mother, looking at Rama with love, calls her companions near. She laments that no one tells the guru this is a boy, and that the bow Ravana and Bana did not touch is being given into his hand. A quick-witted companion answers her with the pot-born sage who dried up the sea. The sun that looks small, a very small mantra, a small goad, and a bow of flowers. Sita, with a fearful heart, prays in her mind to Shiva and Parvati, to Ganesha, and then to the bow. Steadying herself, she brings trust into her heart. Lakshmana sees Rama look at the bow. He orders the elephants of the quarters, the tortoise, the serpent, and the boar to hold the earth and let it not shake. Doubt and ignorance, pride, faint-heartedness, worry, regret, and grief board the bow as a ship. Then Rama, seeing Sita greatly distressed, salutes his guru in his mind, lifts the bow, and breaks it through the middle. The sound fills the worlds. This episode of the Ramcharitmanas ends on a sortha: the bow was a ship, the strength of his arms a sea. And the company that had first boarded it in delusion sank.
The waiting around the bow
The main figures in this episode
- Rama who bows at his guru’s feet, asks the sages’ leave, and sets out with the gait of a fine elephant. He looks at Sita and then at the bow as Garuda looks at a small snake. He comes near it and sees the people as if drawn in a picture. He looks at Sita, knowing her especially distressed. He sees how greatly distressed she is, the time an eyelid takes to fall passing for her like a kalpa. He thrills at her great love and salutes his guru in his mind. He lifts the bow with great deftness and, with no one seeing him take it, string it, and draw it, breaks it through the middle. He speaks no word aloud in this episode.
- Sita Janaka’s daughter, who looks at Rama with a fearful heart. She prays in her mind to Shiva and Parvati, to make her service bear fruit and take away the bow’s heaviness. And to the leader of the hosts, to make its weight very slight. Remembering her father’s vow, she asks the Creator how she is to keep her heart steady. She takes her refuge in the bow, asking it to cast its dullness on the people and grow light at the sight of Rama. Her eyes go from Rama to the ground, and her speech stays held in. Steadying herself, she brings trust into her heart. If her vow is true in body, mind, and word and her thoughts are set on Rama’s lotus feet, the Lord will make her Rama’s servant.
- Sita’s mother the queen, who looks at Rama with love, calls her companions near, and laments: those called well-wishers are watching a show. No one tells the guru that this is a boy. Ravana and Bana did not touch the bow, all the kings were defeated, and can young swans lift Mandara? At her companion’s words she trusts, her sorrow goes, and her love grows.
- A quick-witted companion who answers the queen in a soft voice that one of splendor is not to be reckoned small: the pot-born sage dried up the boundless sea. The sun’s circle looks small, and at its rising the darkness of the three worlds flees. A very small mantra holds the Creator, the Lord, Shiva, and all the gods. A small goad masters the great maddened king of elephants. Kamadeva with a bow and arrows of flowers brought all the worlds under his power. She tells the queen to give up doubt. Rama will break the bow.
- Lakshmana Rama’s younger brother. He sees Rama look at Shiva’s bow and thrills. He presses the universe down with his feet. He orders the elephants of the quarters, the tortoise, the serpent, and the boar to hold the earth, hold steady, and let it not shake. Rama wants to break Shiva’s bow, and at his order they are to be alert.
- Janaka the king, whose cleverness Sita’s mother says has run out. His vow Sita remembers with a troubled mind. His regret is among the company that boards the ship of the bow.
The night of hope passes
The night of the kings’ hope was over. The stars of their words went dark. The proud kings closed like night-lotuses, and the deceitful kings hid like owls. Like chakravakas, the sages and the gods were free of sorrow. They rained flowers and showed their service.
Rama bowed at his guru’s feet with love and asked the sages’ leave. Then he set out with natural ease, walking as a fine maddened elephant walks. As he walked, all the men and women of the city were filled with thrills and were happy.
They bowed to their ancestors and to the gods and called up their merits. “If our merits have any power, let Rama break Shiva’s bow like a lotus stalk, Ganesha, master.”
A mother’s fear, and a companion’s assurance
Sita’s mother looked at Rama with love and called her companions near. In the grip of affection she spoke, lamenting. “Friend, they are all watchers of the show, even those who are called our well-wishers. No one explains to the guru and tells him: this is a boy, and such obstinacy is not good.” The guru is Vishvamitra. The commentary says what she took for obstinacy: the sage’s command to Rama to break the bow, and Rama’s setting out to break it.
She went on: “Ravana and Bana did not touch the bow. All the kings made their boast and were defeated. That bow they are giving into the prince’s hand. Can young swans lift Mandara? All the king’s cleverness has run out. Friend, the ways of the Creator cannot be known.” The commentary hears her fall silent there.
A quick-witted companion answered in a soft voice. “Queen, one who has splendor in him is not to be reckoned small. Where is the pot-born, and where the boundless sea? He dried it up, and his fine fame is in all the world. The sun’s circle looks small to the eye. At its rising, the darkness of the three worlds flees. Very small is the mantra in whose power the Creator, the Lord, Shiva, and all the gods are held. A small goad brings the great maddened king of elephants under control. Kamadeva took a bow and arrows of flowers and brought all the worlds under his power. Goddess, give up doubt, knowing this. Rama will break the bow. Listen, queen.” The pot-born is Agastya, the name the commentary supplies for the epithet. It names the three in the mantra’s power Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva.
At the companion’s words, trust came to the queen. Her sorrow went, and her love grew very great.
A prayer to Shiva and Parvati, and a call to Ganesha
Then Sita, looking at Rama, with a fearful heart entreated one god and then another. In her mind, in distress, she prayed: “Be gracious, Shiva and Parvati. Make the service I did you bear fruit. Be kind, and take away the bow’s heaviness.”
She went on: “Leader of the hosts, giver of boons: I served you for this day. Hear my entreaty again and again, and make the bow’s weight very slight.” The commentary names him Ganesha.
Looking and looking at Rama, steadying herself, she prayed to the gods. Her eyes were full of the water of love, and thrills ran over her body in rows.
The hardness of the vow, and refuge in the bow
Sita looked her fill at Rama’s beauty, her eyes brimming with it. She remembered her father’s vow, and her mind was troubled again. The commentary sets her words in her mind. “Ah, father has set himself to a cruel obstinacy, and he considers neither gain nor loss. The ministers are afraid, and no one gives counsel. In an assembly of the wise a great wrong is being done. Where is a bow harder even than the thunderbolt, and where the dark youth with the tender limbs?”
She went on: “Creator, how am I to keep my heart steady? Is a diamond pierced by a grain of the shirisha flower? The wit of the whole assembly has turned foolish. Now, bow of Shiva, my refuge is in you. Cast your dullness on the people, and grow light at the sight of Rama.”
Great was the anguish in Sita’s mind. A fraction of the time an eyelid takes to fall went by for her like a hundred ages.
Restless eyes, and a voice held back
Sita looked at the Lord, and then she looked at the ground. Her restless eyes shone as if two fish of Kamadeva were playing in a swing made of the moon’s circle.
The bee of her speech was held in by the lotus of her face. Seeing the night of shyness, it did not come out. The water of her eyes stayed in the corners of her eyes, like a great miser’s gold.
She knew how great her agitation had grown, and she was abashed.
Love’s true vow, and Rama’s look
Steadying herself, Sita brought trust into her heart. “If my vow is true in body, mind, and word, and my thoughts are set on Rama’s lotus feet. Then the Lord who dwells in every heart will make me Rama’s servant. Whoever has true love for anyone gains that one. There is no doubt of it.”
Looking at Rama, she set her love firm in her body. The commentary reads it as her resolve: this body would be his, or it would not remain at all. Rama knew it all. He looked at Sita, and then he looked at the bow the way Garuda looks at a small snake.
Lakshmana warns the bearers of the earth
Lakshmana saw that Rama had looked at Shiva’s bow. His body thrilled, and he spoke, pressing the universe down with his feet. “Elephants of the quarters, tortoise, serpent, boar: hold the earth, and hold steady. Let it not shake. Rama wants to break Shiva’s bow. Be alert, hearing my order.” The serpent is Shesha in the commentary’s reading.
The load that boarded the ship of the bow
When Rama came near the bow, the men and women prayed to the gods and to their merits. Everyone’s doubt and ignorance, the pride of the base kings. The heaviness of the pride of the lord of the Bhrigus, whom the commentary names Parashurama. The faint-heartedness of the gods and the best of the sages, Sita’s worry, Janaka’s regret, the wildfire of the queens’ cruel grief. All of these found the great ship that was Shiva’s bow and boarded it together, as one company. They wanted to cross the boundless sea that was the strength of Rama’s arms, and there was no one to steer.
Rama looked at all the people and saw them as if they had been drawn in a picture. He looked at Sita, knowing her to be especially distressed.
Let the hour of help not pass
Rama saw Sita greatly distressed. For her, the time an eyelid takes to fall was passing like a kalpa, an age of the world. If a thirsty man gives up his body for want of water, what can a lake of nectar do for him once he is dead? What use is rain when all the crop has dried? And when the time has passed, what use is regret? Knowing this in his mind, the Lord looked at Sita, and seeing how great her love was, he thrilled.
A flash, a circle, and the sound of breaking
In his mind Rama saluted his guru. Then, with great deftness, he lifted the bow. When he took it up it flashed like lightning, and then, in the sky, it became like a circle.
Taking it, stringing it, drawing it hard: no one saw these. Everyone saw him standing. The commentary reads it as speed. The three acts were done so quickly that no one knew when the bow was lifted, when it was strung, and when it was drawn. In that instant Rama broke the bow through the middle, and the worlds filled with a terrible, harsh sound.
The worlds were full of the terrible, harsh roar. The horses of the sun left their road. The elephants of the quarters trumpeted. The earth shook. The serpent, the boar, and the tortoise writhed. Gods, asuras, and sages put their hands over their ears and, all of them distressed, thought it over. Rama had broken the bow, and they uttered the word of victory. The poet’s name stands in the stanza, and the commentary reads it as Tulsi saying so. It adds that the cry went up once all were sure the bow was broken.
Shiva’s bow was the ship, and the strength of Rama’s arms the sea. All that company sank which had first boarded it in delusion.
A moment as long as a hundred ages
Sita prays in her mind to Shiva and Parvati, to the leader of the hosts, and to the gods. Remembering her father’s vow, she takes her refuge in Shiva’s bow. Great is the anguish in her mind. A fraction of the time an eyelid takes to fall goes by for her like a hundred ages. Steadying herself, she brings trust into her heart, and, looking at Rama, sets her love firm in her body. Rama knows it all.
Rama looks at the bow as Garuda looks at a small snake. When he comes near it, he looks at all the people and at Sita, knowing her especially distressed. Seeing how great her love is, he thrills, salutes his guru in his mind, lifts the bow, and breaks it through the middle. The next episode opens with Rama throwing the two pieces of the bow on the ground, and all the people happy at the sight.
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 255 to sortha 261, read with Hanuman Prasad Poddar’s Hindi commentary.