Story Map
Remember this is a Yoga Story, that is we are mapping the characters to Yoga structures, and their actions to Yoga processes.
Here is a quick overview, and then details follow.
Karma Strikes back
Dasharatha rushes to the quarters of Kaikeyi for she is after all his favorite, most beautiful wife, to tell her of the momentous decision he has taken.
However, he sees Kaikeyi lying distraught and disheveled in a state of abject misery, staging the ground for the most terrible act of her life.
Dasharatha is completely taken aback when he sees his most beautiful wife in this condition and promises her that he will do anything to make her life alright again, if she would but tell him of what is making her so upset.
So Kaikeyi reminds him of the two boons he had granted and he vehemently affirms that he will grant her those boons since he wants to get on with the happiest moment of his life, the coronation of Rāma.
When Kaikeyi demands of Dasharatha that her son Bharatha should be made king and Rāma should go into exile, Dasharatha’s world spins around and he collapses to the ground.
Upon deep reflection in the depths of his agony, he realizes that Karma has indeed caught up with him.
Once when he was a youth he too had separated an old man from his son through a most unfortunate act of killing the old man’s son by mistake, thinking that he was shooting at a deer just by listening to the sound of it drinking behind thick foliage.
Reconciling himself to the unstoppable force of Karma and bound by his word to Kaikeyi, he curses her with heartfelt grief, and with tremendous sorrow he calls Rāma over to tell him of the decision that he must be exiled to the forest, and Bharatha will be made king.
Rāma accepts the decision of exile with grace, sheds his princely attire for garments fit for a life in the forest, and so too does his inseparable brother Lakshmana who insists on joining him in exile, as does Sītā.
Seeing all three of the royal children thus dressed in the simplest of attire and leaving the palace firm in their resolve to go into exile, Dasharatha breaks down once again in agony, recalling the consequences of his earlier Karma, and that he was cursed by those now-destitute parents that he too in his old age would be separated from his boy.
Like a flash he relives that fateful incident, and within a few days of the separation from Rāma, Dasharatha too leaves the earthly plane.
Bharatha who was visiting elsewhere returns at this junction, is distraught beyond belief at the situation he finds himself in and turns his ire on his mother Kaikeyi who is now faced with the consequences of her rash and selfish actions.
Her own son, the embodiment of the Sudarshana Chakra, almost decides to kill her but is stopped in the nick of time by Shatrughna, the embodiment of the Conch shell that emanates Om and prevents all conflict.
Yoga implication
Karma is only mysterious when we are unable to go into the root causes of our condition.
As we go deeper and deeper into our conditionings these are all Kārmic seeds that flower in ripe circumstances, and the sooner we release these seeds their impact correspondingly gets weaker.
Dasharatha continues in the story to get ever more infatuated with Kaikeyi and instead of weakening his Kārmic conditioning he strengthens it to tragic proportions.
Dasharatha means one who can move his chariot in all ten directions in space, and so proud was he of his mastery over space in which sound travels that it led to his downfall.
The Exile Begins
And so the royal trio of Rāma, Sītā, and Lakshmana set off to the forest with the charioteer Sumantra, but the entire kingdom turns out and begs to join them on this journey as the people cannot imagine a life without Rāma in their midst.
Much against Rāma’s protests they insist on following the three exiles, and it almost seems like an ocean of men, women and children is flowing in the wake of the exiled party as they wend their way to the forest.
Through some clever detours and tricks, Rāma, Sītā and Lakshmana manage to evade the crowds and escape into the forest by crossing the river Sarayu with the help of the boatman Guhan.
The crowd turns away and returns to the kingdom, despondent but resigned to a joyless fourteen years while they await the return of the exiled royals.
In the following few days, Bharatha who is supposed to rule in lieu of Rāma, is unable to contain himself and marches out with a huge army to bring Rāma back to the throne.
Bharatha is finally convinced to return only when Rāma agrees to give him his sandals to place on the throne, a symbolic reminder of who is the actual ruler, and he carries the sandals placing them on his head as a mark of reverence all the way back to Ayodhya.
And for fourteen years the royal trio dressed as forest dwellers wander through jungles, stopping at various Āshrams along the way, protecting the Rishis from Rākshasas that threaten to defile their Yagnyas.
Yoga implication
It’s interesting Rāma goes to the forest with Lakshmana and Sītā who represent the energies of awareness & grounding, which is really all that one needs to enter the forest of the Mind and shed all the accrued baggage of life.
When we give up wallowing in the material life and decide to take a different approach, the rest of society refuses to let go.
Even simple changes like mindfulness in eating habits, or pursuing meditation instead of partying, somehow act as a trigger to those around us because they are loath to see someone else make the shift - but let’s always remember that it only takes a few completely “unreasonable” people to change the world!
The charioteer सुमंत्र Sumantra means Su (good like in Su-kha) and Mantra together means a good Mantra - this implies a good start to Intentional Thought.
The boatman Guhan, has similar roots to Guru, and the name literally means who dwells in the cave of the heart from where pure Intent can be formed - a great place from which to start a spiritual journey.
The river is symbolic of the first crossing over to a new life.
The sandal carrying incident is also indicative of the name Bharatha - one who bears the weight of governance in the name of Rāma.
The number fourteen is used in other epics too, to mark the number of years in exile, a number we speculate could also indicate our coming to terms with the dualistic nature of our seven chakras.
Soorpanakha entices
Towards the end of the trio’s exile there comes a second major turning point in the story in the form of a female rakshasa by the name of Soorpanakha, who is none other than the sister of Rāvana, the brilliant Rākshasa king of Lanka the antagonist of our story.
As Soorpanakha is wandering through the Dandaka forest she spies Rāma and Lakshmana amidst the trees and is promptly infatuated at the sight of these two handsome men for they are the finest of warriors.
She sets her eyes on Rāma at first and determines to win him over by using her Rākshasa powers to shape-shift, so although she looks grotesque in her natural form she now takes the form of a beautiful maiden and tries to entice Rāma.
Rāma firmly rejects her advances and points out that he is already married to Sītā, so Soorpanakha then turns her lustful gaze towards Lakshmana, who initially toys with her, but then he too rebuffs her.
Enraged at this outright rejection, Soorpanakha turns her anger on Sītā whom she considers the source of her rejection, and the infuriated Lakshmana proceeds to cut off Soorpanakha’s nose in retaliation.
Disfigured and in pain Soorpanakha beats a hasty retreat to her brother Khara who descends on the exiled trio with an army of 14,000 Rākshasas but of course, they are completely destroyed by Rāma and Lakshmana.
This incident becomes a huge turning point in the story because Soorpanakha now appeals to Rāvana himself asking him to avenge her injuries, and the defeat of the other brothers.
At first Rāvana pays no heed but then Soorpanakha describes Sītā’s wondrous beauty to him and he is immediately hooked at the prospect of adding this wondrous beauty to his large collection of other kidnapped wives, and crafts a devious plans.
Yoga implication
Soorpa-nakha, meaning the one with sharp nails.
It should be obvious by now that these names have been bestowed by the Rishi who wrote this epic in a deliberate fashion, but this does not mean that these are all cooked up characters.
Often the Hindu culture bestows multiple names on beings because names in Sanskrit are not just tags or labels that refer to somebody else, they are actually attributes that describe the being.
When human children are given exalted names such as Srī-ni-vās “goddess of abundance housed within”, these names act as everyday Mantras with the hope that one day, with sufficient repetition and affirmation, the child will literally come to embody these attributes.
In the case of Rākshasas though, the Rishis create names to caution us about their fundamental nature, thus Soorpanakha with sharp nails is a psychic virus that could get deeply embedded within our energy body.
Soorpanakha she is also a shapeshifter, like any of our psychic viruses, we need to be extra vigilant because if she penetrates our energy body she will certainly lay down deep hooks in multiple ways - appearing in so many different, enticing ways and keeping us snared.
Obviously both the warriors thanks to their earlier encounters with Rākshasas are quite adept at spotting their tricks and their training has paid off.
Spotting and spurning these psychic viruses shapeshifting Rākshasas, is a key part of spiritual practice and in this anecdote the Rishi is encouraging us to go beyond form, no matter how beautiful it looks.
We have to see whether the energy of the other Being, or food, or whatever it is that is presenting itself to us, is compatible with our energy without being mesmerized by the form.
For example we might avoid successfully overcome our addiction to sugar in one encounter but then we may succumb to a different sweetener like agave just because it seems “natural” and different - and just like that, boom, the Rākshasa regains its hold.
This power of observation to go beyond form is fundamentally our conscious awareness and in this story embodied by Lakshmana who is always watching over Rāma and Sītā , staying awake for days on end as needed.
The 14,000 warriors that arrive on the scene represent the same number 14 we have seen earlier in the dualism of our seven chakras, and now compounded by trying to rip through our three Lokā’s of existence even!
Sītā is Abducted
And so it happens that towards the end of their fourteen year exile the divine trio are resting in their Āshram when disaster strikes, and Rāvana, the antagonist of our story, enters their idyllic paradise.
Rāvana is an exemplary ruler by any account. However he has one vice - women - but not just any type of woman because is known throughout the world for having captured wondrous beauties who are the wives of other men.
Rāvana’s plan to capture Sītā hinges on luring Rāma and Lakshmana away from their Āshram for he really does not want to face them in battle, and so he convinces Māreecha his uncle to act as a decoy in this plot.
Māreecha’s first instinct is to refuse since he is well acquainted with Rāma’s powers, but the only two choices are for him to face Rāvana’s rage or die at Rāma’s hands, so he picks the latter.
Rāvana and Māreecha make their way to the Dandaka forest where Māreecha transforms himself with his shape-shifting Rākshasa powers into a lustrous and most captivating golden deer to entice Sītā.
When Sītā spies this magical creation she is drawn irresistibly to it and demands that Rāma capture the deer for her amusement, overriding the concerns of both Lakshmana and Rāma who suspect something is amiss - yet, woman that she is, she wins the argument.
With much trepidation, Rāma sets off into the forest to hunt for the magical deer, leaving Sītā in the care of his ever-watchful brother Lakshmana.
Rāma goes deeper and deeper into the forest chasing the magical deer and finally catches up to it, and the sharp hunter that he is, he shoots it cleanly down with his bow and arrow, but the deer in its last breath changes shape back to Māreecha.
In that last moment of devilish intent he shouts aloud in an agonized voice “Hey Lakshmana, Hey Sītā !” , cleverly imitating Rāma’s own voice as though it were Rāma himself crying out in pain.
Sītā hears this cry for help and insists to Lakshmana that he leave her side and go ro Rāma’s aid, who at first refuses because he knows that Rāma cannot be overcome by any foe.
Sītā then turns on Lakshmana in fury accusing him of lusting for her hence he is ignoring Rāma’s cry for help, which makes the ever devoted Lakshmana tremendously upset so against his better judgement he agrees, with great reluctance, to leave Sītā’s side.
Before leaving Sītā he draws a protective line in the sand, the boundary of awareness within which Sītā must stay at all costs so as to be protected even in his absence.
As Sītā is waiting alone in the forest, an old seemingly benign Brāhmana comes to her hut and demands to be fed, as was their right in those times.
Sītā tells him to sit outside the protective line and she will set food for him from within, which makes the Brāhmana furious as he perceives this as an insult.
Sītā with some trepidation sets foot across the line of protection and at that instant the Brāhmana reveals his true form as Rāvana, grabs her, and forces Sītā into his flying chariot and flies off towards Lanka.
Yoga implications
It is indeed so easy to get ensnared in the sensory illusions of Māyā and blindly choose to be separated from the source of our Self!
Shape-shifting Rākshasas can be powerful indeed, and the most powerful ones are the truly gifted and learned Brhma-Rākshasas that can weave elaborate nets to ensnare their targets.
Interestingly Mareecha means black pepper and Māreecha means that which comes from black pepper - which could even mean a sneeze :-)
This is told in half jest because Rākshasas do stir up emotions that we want to expel from within.
Our stories abound with even advanced Yoga practitioners such as powerful Rishis who are enticed by celestial beings to drop their guard, and consequently losing their powers and having to undergo the climb back up the spiritual ladder.
It’s like one of the old Snakes and Ladders game where even at the penultimate step to final liberation we can be stung by a snake and drop down many levels, or find an amazing shortcut to climb rapidly up the spiritual Ladder.
In Vedāntha terminology we would say that the Jīvātma - the embodied Self in the form of Sītā, has been separated from the Paramātma - the supreme Self in the form of Rāma.
Jatāyu’s valiant Attempt
As Rāvana’s abduction of Sītā is in progress, the huge bird Jatāyu, possibly a vulture or an eagle, spies this dastardly deed in progress.
Jatāyu and his older brother Sampāthi in their childhood days were powerful birds that rode the strong winds in the high skies, when one day Jatāyu insisted on getting close to the Sun.
Jatāyu’s wings would have almost burnt down if it had not been for Sampāthi shielding him from the Sun’s scorching rays, Jatāyu was protected but Sampāthi, unfortunately, became quite disabled after this adventure.
When Jatāyu sees Sītā being abducted, he flies up to the fleeing chariot and to save her but unfortunately Rāvana is overwhelmingly strong and with his sword he cuts off the wings of Jatāyu who then crashes to the ground.
Jatāyu then awaits his last breath in the forest, while Sītā continues on her way to Lanka against her will, distraught and helpless.
All she can do is to somehow plant clues so Rāma knows where to find her, so she surreptitiously drops her ornaments one at a time from the flying chariot, marking the trail by which Rāma may be able to find her.
While Sītā is flying off in the skies, Lakshmana in the meanwhile has found Rāma standing over the once seemingly golden deer now revealed to be the dead Rākshasa who had enthralled Sītā.
Rāma and Lakshmana hurry back to their hut in the forest because they suspect a deadly ruse, what with Māreecha’s disguise and faked calls for help.
They are beside themselves when they find Sītā missing, and so they go searching through the forest and finally find a dying Jatāyu who narrates the traumatic incident of Sītā’s capture and points them in the direction of Lanka with his dying breath.
Rāma performs Jatāyu’s last rites thereby granting him Moksha, and together with Lakshmana they proceed southward through the forest towards Lanka, with grief in their hearts yet stoic in their Minds, where they will soon meet probably the most significant character in our Yoga story.
Yoga implication
Jatāyu and Sampāthi represent the Pingala and Ida Nādi’s in our Prānic energy body.
The Pingala Nādi is the energy channel that provides heat and responsible for Purposeful thinking, and the Ida Nādi is the energy channel that cools the system and responsible for Intentional thinking.
It is not possible to reach our Source sustainably, like Jatāyu attempts in his youth, with a purely Purposeful Mind, particularly without having cleared up our psychological baggage.
But Rāma has been cleansed with so many successful encounters with Rākshasas that he is all set to begin his journey into the Purposeful Mind and is aided by the Intentional Mind of Sampāthi who helps in locating Sītā.