PDE Ramayana: Ahalya

Public Domain Edition: Ramayana

Reading Guide. When Rama asks about an abandoned hermitage, Vishvamitra tells him the story of the sage Gautama and his beautiful wife, Ahalya. The god Indra fell in love with Ahalya and disguised himself as Gautama in order to seduce her. In some versions of the story, Ahalya was fooled by the disguise, but in other versions, she realized she was sleeping with someone who was not her husband. When Gautama found out what happened, he cursed both Indra and Ahalya. In the version of the story you will read here, he cursed Ahalya to become invisible; in other versions of the story, he cursed Ahalya to take the form of a stone. Ahalya's story is connected to Rama's own life: the arrival of Rama will end her curse, bringing her back to life. You can read more about Ahalya and the different versions of her story at Wikipedia.

Image: The illustration depicts the end of the story, after Rama has freed Ahalya; she is offering hospitality to Rama and his brother Lakshmana. You can see that the gods are rejoicing, too, and they throw flowers down as a sign of joy.

Source. Valmiki's Ramayana, translated by Ralph T.H. Griffith (1870-1874). [800 words] As you can see, this section is in verse; I would strongly recommend reading it loud or listening to the audio: poetry always sounds better out loud.

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Ganga | 7. Ahalya | Sita

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Then Rama saw a holy wood,
Close, in the city's neighborhood,
O'ergrown, deserted, marked by age,
And thus addressed the mighty sage,
"O reverend lord, I long to know
What hermit dwelt here long ago."

Then to the prince his holy guide,
Most eloquent of men, replied,
"O Rama, listen while I tell
Whose was this grove, and what befell
When in the fury of his rage
The high saint cursed the hermitage.

"This was the grove — most lovely then —
Of Gautam, O thou best of men,
Like heaven itself, most honored by
The gods who dwell above the sky.

"Here with Ahalya at his side,
His fervid task the ascetic plied.
Years fled in thousands.

                                        On a day
It chanced the saint had gone away,
When Town-Destroying Indra came
And saw the beauty of the dame.
The sage's form the god endued
And thus the fair Ahalya wooed.

'Love — sweet! — should brook no dull delay
But snatch the moments when he may.'

"She knew him in the saint's disguise,
Lord Indra of the Thousand Eyes,
But, touched by love's unholy fire,
She yielded to the God's desire.

'Now, Lord of Gods,' she whispered, 'flee!
From Gautam save thyself and me.'

"Trembling with doubt and wild with dread,
Lord Indra from the cottage fled,
But fleeing in the grove he met
The home-returning anchoret,
Whose wrath the gods and fiends would shun,
Such power his fervent rites had won.

"Fresh from the lustral flood he came,
In splendor like the burning flame,
With fuel for his sacred rites
And grass, the best of eremites.

"The Lord of Gods was sad of cheer
To see the mighty saint so near,
And when the holy hermit spied
In hermit's garb the Thousand-Eyed,
He knew the whole; his fury broke
Forth on the sinner as he spoke:

'Because my form thou hast assumed
And wrought this folly, thou art doomed
For this my curse to thee shall cling,
Henceforth a sad and sexless thing.'

"No empty threat that sentence came.
It chilled his soul and marred his frame;
His might and godlike vigour fled,
And every nerve was cold and dead.

"Then on his wife his fury burst,
And thus the guilty dame he cursed:

'For countless years, disloyal spouse,
Devoted to severest vows,
Thy bed the ashes, air thy food,
Here shalt thou live in solitude.
This lonely grove thy home shall be,
And not an eye thy form shall see.
When Rama, Dasharatha's child,
Shall seek these shades then drear and wild,
His coming shall remove thy stain
And make the sinner pure again.
Due honor paid to him, thy guest,
Shall cleanse thy fond and erring breast,
Thee to my side in bliss restore
And give thy proper shape once more.'

Thus to his guilty wife he said,
Then far the holy Gautam fled
And on Himalaya's lovely heights
Spent the long years in sternest rites."

Then Rama, following still his guide,
Within the grove, with Lakshman, hied.

Her vows a wondrous light had lent
To that illustrious penitent.
He saw the glorious lady, screened
From eye of man and God and fiend,
Like some bright portent which the care
Of Brahma launches through the air,
Designed by his illusive art
To flash a moment and depart,
Or like the flame that leaps on high
To sink involved in smoke and die,
Or like the full moon shining through
The wintry mist, then lost to view,
Or like the sun's reflection, cast
Upon the flood, too bright to last:
So was the glorious dame till then
Removed from gods' and mortals' ken,
Till — such was Gautam's high decree —
Prince Rama came to set her free.

Then, with great joy that dame to meet,
The sons of Raghu clasped her feet;
And she, remembering Gautam's oath,
With gentle grace received them both.
Then water for their feet she gave,
Guest-gift, and all that strangers crave.
The prince, of courteous rule aware,
Received as meet the lady's care.

Then flowers came down in copious rain,
And, moving to the heavenly strain
Of music in the skies that rang,
The nymphs and minstrels danced and sang,
And all the gods with one glad voice
Praised the great dame and cried, 'Rejoice!
Through fervid rites no more defiled,
But with thy husband reconciled.'

Gautam, the holy hermit knew —
For naught escaped his godlike view —
That Rama lodged beneath that shade,
And hasting there his homage paid.

He took Ahalya to his side.
From sin and folly purified,
And let his new-found consort bear
In his austerities a share.

Then Rama, pride of Raghu's race,
Welcomed by Gautam, face to face,
Who every highest honour showed,
To Mithila pursued his road.

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Ganga | Ahalya | Sita

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Rama and Ahalya.

PDE Ramayana: Shabari

Public Domain Edition: Ramayana

Reading Guide. On their way to find Sugriva, Rama and Lakshmana find a long-deserted hermitage, but there is a woman living there, Shabari, who has been waiting for their arrival. Like others in the wilderness who have been awaiting Rama's arrival, this old woman has been expecting Rama for a long time! She tells Rama that the holy men who lived in the hermitage departed for the heavens long ago, but they foretold that Rama would come to her. The hermitage itself is caught in a time warp, with everything just as the saints left the place: nothing has changed. Now that her destiny is complete, she asks Rama to perform her funeral rites.

Image: The image below is a sculpture from the Simhachalam Temple in Andhra Pradesh. You can learn more about this famous temple at Wikipedia.

Source. Valmiki's Ramayana, translated by Ralph T.H. Griffith, Books 1-6 (1870-1874). [800 words] As always, I'd recommend reading the poetry out loud or listen to the audio recording as you read.

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Kabandha | 40. Shabari | Hanuman

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The princes reached the holy ground
Where noble trees stood thick around,
And joying in the lovely view
Near to the aged votress drew.
To meet the sons of Raghu came,
With hands upraised, the pious dame,
And bending low with reverence meet
Welcomed them both and pressed their feet,
Then water, as beseems, she gave,
Their lips to cool, their feet to lave.

To that pure saint who never broke
One law of duty Rama spoke:
   "I trust no cares invade thy peace,
While holy works and zeal increase;
That thou content with scanty food
All touch of ire hast long subdued;
That all thy vows are well maintained,
While peace of mind is surely gained:
That reverence of the saints who taught
The faithful heart due fruit has brought."

   The aged votaress pure of taint,
Revered by every perfect saint,
Rose to her feet by Rama's side
And thus in gentle tones replied:
  "My penance' meed this day I see
Complete, my lord, in meeting thee.
This day the fruit of birth I gain,
Nor have I served the saints in vain,
I reap rich fruits of toil and vow,
And heaven itself awaits me now,
When I, O chief of men, have done
Honour to thee the godlike one.
I feel, great lord, thy gentle eye
My earthly spirit purify,
And I, brave tamer of thy foes,
Shall through thy grace in bliss repose.
Thy feet by Chitrakuta strayed
When those great saints whom I obeyed,
In dazzling chariots bright of hue,
Hence to their heavenly mansions flew.
As the high saints were borne away
I heard their holy voices say:
   'In this pure grove, O devotee,
   Prince Rama soon will visit thee.
   When he and Lakshman seek this shade,
   Be to thy guests all honour paid.
   Him shalt thou see, and pass away
   To those blest worlds which ne'er decay.'
To me, O mighty chief, the best
Of lofty saints these words addressed.
Laid up within my dwelling lie
Fruits of each sort which woods supply —
Food culled for thee in endless store
From every tree on Pampa's shore."

Thus to her virtuous guest she sued
And he, with heavenly lore endued,
Words such as these in turn addressed
To her with equal knowledge blest:
   "Danu himself the power has told
Of thy great masters lofty-souled.
Now if thou will, mine eyes would fain
Assurance of their glories gain."

She heard the prince his wish declare;
Then rose she, and the royal pair
Of brothers through the wood she led
That round her holy dwelling spread.
   "Behold Matanga's wood" she cried
"A grove made famous far and wide,
Dark as thick clouds and filled with herds
Of wandering deer, and joyous birds.
In this pure spot each reverend sire
With offerings fed the holy fire.
   See here the western altar stands
Where daily with their trembling hands
The aged saints, so long obeyed
By me, their gifts of blossoms laid.
The holy power, O Raghu's son,
By their ascetic virtue won,
Still keeps their well-loved altar bright
Filling the air with beams of light.
And those seven neighbouring lakes behold
Which, when the saints infirm and old,
Worn out by fasts, no longer sought,
Moved hither drawn by power of thought.
   Look, Rama, where the devotees
Hung their bark mantles on the trees.
Fresh from the bath: those garments wet
Through many a day are dripping yet.
See, through those aged hermits' power
The tender spray, this bright-hued flower
With which the saints their worship paid,
Fresh to this hour nor change nor fade.
   Here thou hast seen each lawn and dell,
And heard the tale I had to tell.
Permit thy servant, lord, I pray,
To cast this mortal shell away,
For I would dwell, this life resigned,
With those great saints of lofty mind,
Whom I within this holy shade
With reverential care obeyed."

   When Rama and his brother heard
The pious prayer the dame preferred,
Filled full of transport and amazed
They marveled as her words they praised.
Then Rama to the votaress said
Whose holy vows were perfected:
   "Go, lady, where thou fain wouldst be,
O thou who well hast honoured me."

   Her locks in hermit fashion tied,
Clad in bark coat and black deer-hide,
When Rama gave consent, the dame
Resigned her body to the flame.

Then like the fire that burns and glows
To heaven the sainted lady rose,
In all her heavenly garments dressed,
Immortal wreaths on neck and breast,
Bright with celestial gems she shone
Most beautiful to look upon,
And like the flame of lightning sent
A glory through the firmament.
That holy sphere the dame attained,
By depth of contemplation gained,
Where roam high saints with spirits pure
In bliss that shall for aye endure.

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Kabandha | Shabari | Hanuman

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Rama and Shabari.