WHEN THE RAINS CEASE !! (1)

Sugreeva was crowned with elaborate rituals and festivities. Robed royally, and wearing a scintillating crown, Sugreeva approached Rama, who had stayed outside Kiskinda throughout the celebrations, and declared in a mood of deep gratitude, "I am ready to serve you, sir. What is your command?" Rama put his arms around his shoulder tenderly and said, "Go back to your palace and to your tasks as a ruler." Following the custom of a senior, he spoke a few words of advice: "Gather around yourself those that have integrity, courage, and judgement; and with their help govern your subjects. Whatever you do, let it be based on the sanctioned codes of conduct." He explained how he should guard the interests of his subjects, how important gentleness in speech was: "Even when you realize that the one before you is an enemy and must be treated sternly, do not hurt with words. Even in jest, do not hurt anyone's feelings, not even the lowliest," he said-remembering how he used to make fun of Kooni's deformity when he was young and fling balls of clay at her, and thinking that possibly Kooni had nursed her ill will all her life and found her opportunity for revenge when Dasaratha planned to enthrone him. Rama explained how even a trivial cause might bring disaster in its wake. He then expatiated on how far one should surrender one's own judgement to another-especially out of love. "Not too far," he said, referring to his own pursuit of the golden deer in order to please Sita. "Women can lead one to death," he said, referring to Vali's infatuation with Sugreeva's wife. At the conclusion of their meeting, Sugreeva pleaded, "Please do me the honour of residing as our guest in the capital." Rama said, "Not now. If you have me as a guest, all your attention will be on me, while you should devote your energy to your duties as a king. Moreover, I have vowed to live in the forests for fourteen years and I cannot, therefore, come into a city now." Sugreeva was crestfallen, and said, "I want to serve you.... "Yes, later. The rainy season is coming. At the end of it, come with an army. There will be time enough." Anjaneya now said stubbornly, "I have no existence separated from you. I want to serve you. I wish to be with you forever." Rama said, "Not now. You will go back to Kiskinda with Sugreeva and help him. He will need your judgement and support, as the responsibilities he has inherited are immense. Your first duty will be to help him. Come to me after four months, after the rains, and I will tell you what you can do for me." When Sugreeva still pressed his invitation, Rama said, "I have lost my wife; and I should not be said to be enjoying the luxuries of a palace, when perhaps she is undergoing untold suffering somewhere." After sending away Sugreeva and Hanuman, Rama turned back with Lakshmana, to reside on a hill. At a chosen spot, Lakshmana, displaying again his genius as an architect, constructed an ashram-in which they could spend the coming rainy months and where Rama could serenely contemplate his future course of action. The sun began to move southward. Dark clouds, heavily laden, floated along, frequently eclipsing the sun, gradually massing themselves like an army of gigantic elephants; thunders rumbled and roared, lightning lit up the sky and the earth end to end. Storm shook the trees, ripped off their foliage, and scattered it in the air, scoured the earth and sprayed up mud and dust. Just as we felt the total heat and aridity where Thataka used to roam, now we must feel under our skin the dampness, the dimness, and the apparent lifelessness of the rainy days. All through the months, the rains poured, waters running, rushing, and stagnating in pools, and sometimes carrying down boulders or the portion of a mountainside. Cuckoos and nightingales were silent. Peacocks were unseen. Other creatures of the forest were incarcerated in stony recesses and caves. No animal stirred out. No movement. Every kind of life seemed to have become paralysed. Wild and uncouth vegetation overran the landscape in a variety of monstrous creepers and vines. The sky was perpetually overcast. Winds blew cold and damp and drenched one's surroundings and person. For a few days, the change of season was fascinating, but, in course of time, the persistent gloom and wetness proved depressing. Rama, isolated in this climate, became subject to long periods of melancholy. The surrounding conditions made his inner turmoil more acute. He now felt hopelessly cut off from his wife and no action to seek her ever seemed possible. He felt thwarted and desolate. He began to feel guilty, he thought he was being too complacent. "While I live sheltered here, I cannot imagine what misery she might be facing." When he saw foaming, frothing, reddish floodwater rushing down the mountain, bearing and rolling along uprooted trees, he was reminded of Sita being carried off. It created a hopeless ache in his heart and he said to himself, "There is no meaning in my continuing to live." When he saw streaks. of lightning splitting the sky, he pictured them as the monstrous fangs of asuras grinning and menacing him on all sides, and he pleaded, "Just when one of your clan has taken away the very core of my life, you want to take more? Nothing more is left." When he saw an occasional deer emerge from its shelter when the downpour slackened a little, he addressed it, "You were jealous of Janaki; she was your rival in the grace of her movements. Now are you not pleased that she is no longer here? One of your kind drew me away from her. Now what is your purpose in strutting before me?" When he saw a slender streak of lightning edging a cloud, he sighed, "Why should you remind me of Sita's figure and vanish again? When you rumble, does it signify your determination to restore Sita to me?" Then he addressed the god of love, Manmatha: "You are a tormentor. I feel scorched, and while I seek something to heal me, your darts stab again and again the same sore spot at my heart -merciless god! It is your good fortune that you are unseen, which saves you; my brother would have eliminated you, if he had seen how you torture me. Do you know what happened to Soorpanaka?" Lakshmana noticed Rama's state of mind and felt it was time for him to comfort him. He said, "Are you worried that the rainy days are prolonged? Are you worried that the asuras might prove invincible? Do you fear that Janaki may not be traced at all? Please don't let your mind weaken. Anjaneya is there, Angada and all the other stalwarts will be our helpers. Soon we will see the skies bright and clear. Time has been passing, and we will soon see the promised armies, and with ease they will bring Janaki to your side. You had assured the sages of Dandaka forest that you would eradicate the asuras from their midst and that has been your chief mission here. Muster your strength and fulfill your mission. Don't let your spirit droop." Rama was comforted by such words, and they sustained him through a second bout of rain which suddenly started after a brief interval of clear weather. The rains ended at last. The skies cleared. New leaves appeared on the trees; jasmine and other fragrant flowers bloomed. With brighter surroundings, Rama's spirit also quickened. Now he could move out of his ashram and act positively. With the end of the rainy season, nature's traffic resumed on land, air, and water. Flocks of swans crossed the sky, cranes and aquatic birds flew by, a variety of fishes newly spawned darted under the water surfaces. Lotus was in bloom; frogs which had croaked themselves hoarse in unison all through the wet days now were silent. Peacocks came out into the sun shaking off clogging droplets of water and fanning out their tails brilliantly. Rivers which had roared. and overflowed now retraced their modest courses and tamely ended in the sea. Areca palms ripened their fruits in golden bunches; crocodiles emerged from the depths crawling over rocks to bask in the sun; snails vanished under slush, and crabs slipped back under ground; that rare creeper known as vanji suddenly burst into bloom with chattering parrots perched on its slender branches.