22. ENCOUNTERS IN EXILE (Part-3)

Rama felt it was time to end her visit. Even a moment of

jesting with an asura is likely to lead to incalculable evil

consequences. So he said, "Do nothing that will bring on

retribution and suffering. Please be gone before my brother

Lakshmana notices you. He will be angry. Please go away

quickly before he comes."

"All the gods in heaven, Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, Indra

and the god of love, Manmatha himself, seek me and pray

for my favors and attention. I'm unattainable and rare, as

they all know. When this is the case, how can you talk so

contemptuously to me, and go on desiring and trusting this

treacherous sorceress at your side? Explain your

inconsiderate and thoughtless attitude."Rama felt that any further conversation with her would

prove useless. Obstinate and unmoving, she built her edifice

of falsehoods higher and higher; so he turned and, holding

Sita close to him, walked back calmly and gracefully into his

ashram.

When the door was shut in her face, Soorpanaka felt so

distraught that she almost swooned. Recovering, she

reflected, "He has spurned me in no uncertain terms and

turned his back on me; he is completely infatuated with that

woman." Finding that there was nothing more for her to do

there, she withdrew to her own lair beyond the woods and

went to bed. She was shriveling in the heat of passion. As it

had once been for Sita, the same love-sickness proved a

great torment to this monstrous woman too. Everything

irritated her and aggravated her agony. When the moonlight

flooded the earth, she roared at the moon and wished she

could set the serpent Rahu to swallow it; when the cool

breeze touched her, she howled imprecations at it, and rose

as if determined to destroy the god of love himself, whose

shafts were piercing her heart. Unable to stand the pain

inflicted by her present surroundings, she entered a

mountain cave infested with deadly serpents and shut herself

in it. There she was the victim of hallucinations. Rama in his

full form seemed to stand before her again and again, and

she fancied she embraced him and fondled his broad

shoulders and chest. When the illusion passed, she cried,

"Why do you torment me in this way? Why do you refuse to unite with me, and quench the fire that's burning me?" After

the turmoil of the night, sheer exhaustion found her calmer

when morning came. She decided on her strategy. "If I

cannot attain him, I will not live any more. But I'll make one

more attempt. He does not care for me because of the spell

cast by that woman. If I remove her from his side and put her

away, he will then naturally take to me." This gave her a fresh

energy.

Daylight in some measure lessened the pangs of love,

and she came out of her cave. She went along to Panchvati

and prowled around, looking for a chance. She saw Rama

come out of his hut and proceed towards the banks of the

Godavari for his morning bath and prayers. "Now is the

time," she said to herself. "If I miss it, I'll lose him for ever. It's

a matter of life and death for me. After all, when he finds her

gone, he'll begin to accept me." Though the sight of Rama

had sent a tremor through her body, she restrained herself

from falling at his feet and confessing her love. She watched

him go, and presently Sita emerged from the hut to gather

flowers. "This chance is not to be missed," Soorpanaka told

herself. Every decision seemed to her a valuable step in her

pursuit of Rama. She began to stalk behind Sita cunningly

like an animal following its prey. She would pounce and grab

and put her away, and when Rama came back, he'd find her

in Sita's place. Excellent plan as far as the idea went, but

she did not reckon there could be another outcome to it. In

her concentration on the beloved image of Rama, and on the movements of Sita, she failed to notice that she was being

watched. Lakshmana had posted himself, as normally he

did, on an eminence shaded with trees, and was watching in

all directions. When he saw Soorpanaka near the hut, he

became alert; when he found her stalking Sita, he sprang

down on her. She had just laid hands on Sita, when she

found herself grabbed, held down by her hair, and kicked in

the stomach.

"Oh! a woman!" Lakshmana muttered, and decided to

spare her life. Instead of taking out his arrow, he pulled out

his sword and chopped off her nose, ears, and breasts.

When his anger subsided, he let go her hair.

When Rama returned home from the river, she was

mutilated and bloody and screaming her life out. Lamenting

to the skies, she called upon her powerful brothers, reciting

their valour in all the worlds; repeating again and again how

impossible that the sister of such eminent personages

should have to suffer this mutilation and humiliation in the

hands of two ordinary human beings, dressed as ascetics

but carrying arms and attacking people treacherously. To

think that human creatures, which served as food for her

poor relations, should have dared to do this to Ravana's

sister! …

Rama did not ask, "What has happened?" but "Who are

you in such a bloody state? Where do you come from?"

She replied, "Don't you know me? Why do you pretend?We met last evening and you were so attentive to me! Ah!"

she cried, her infatuation reviving.

Rama understood. "You are the same one, are you?" he

asked. He made no other comment.

She replied, amidst her agony, "You don't find me

beautiful? No wonder! If one's nose and ears and breasts

are lopped off, will not one's beauty suffer?"

Rama turned to Lakshmana and asked, "What did she

do?"

Lakshmana answered, "With fire in her eyes, she was

about to fall on Janaki, and I prevented it."

Soorpanaka now explained, "Naturally, it's just and right

that I hate anyone who has deprived me of my beloved's

company." In her mind she had treated Rama as her own

property. "Would it not inflame a woman's heart to see her

beloved taken away?"

Rama said simply, "Go away before your tongue utters

worse words, which may bring you more harm. Go back to

your own people."