The Death of Rāvaṇa
Rāma’s lethal brahmāstra, as unstoppable as the vajra hurled by Indra and as inescapable as fate, pierced Rāvaṇa’s heart , and and carried away his life breath. Hard pressed by the jubilant monkeys, the raksasas fled in fear to Laṅka, their piteous faces drenched with tears over the death of their protector. The jubilant monkeys, with a victorious air, roared loudly, proclaiming Rāghava’s victory and the death of Rāvaṇa. The auspicious war drums of the thirty gods then resounded in the sky, and a pleasant breeze blew, wafting a divine fragrance. An extraordinary and delightful shower of blossoms fell from the sky to the earth, covering Rāghava’s chariot. From the great Gods in heaven a magnificent shout, filled with the praise of Rāghava, was heard. Now that fearsome Ravana, the terror of all the worlds, had been slain, great exultation filled the gods and celestial bards. Having thus slain his enemy, the immensely powerful hero, the delight of the king of the Raghu dynasty, proved true to his vow. Surrounded by his kinsman and his troops there on the field of battle, he looked as resplendent as Indra surrounded by the hosts of the thirty gods.
When the rākṣasa women heard that Rāvaṇa had been slain by great Rāghava, they rushed from the inner apartments, entered the ghastly battlefield, searching for their slain lord, overwhelmed with grief. They rolled in the dust of the earth, their hair flying loose. They were as stricken with grief as cows whose calves have been butchered.
Overcome with grief for their lord, their eyes filled with tears, they cried, shrieking like elephant cows when the leader of their herd is slain. Then they saw Rāvaṇa lying slain on the ground. With his huge body, his tremendous strength, and his vast splendor, he resembled a mass of black collyrium. One of them embraced him in her devotion and wept. One clasped his feet, while yet another clung to his neck. Raising her arms, one rolled on the ground. Seeing the face of her dead husband, yet another fainted. One placed his head on her lap and, gazing on his face, wept, so that his face was bathed with tears, as is a lotus with dewdrops. Thus anguished at seeing their lord Rāvaṇa lying slain on the ground, they keened in various ways in their grief and then began to lament once more.
Rāvaṇa’s beloved seniormost wife, Manḍodari, gazed on her ten-necked husband who had been slain by Rāma of inconceivable deeds, and lamented.
“Resembling a black storm cloud, with your yellow garments and bright armlets, why do you lie here drenched in blood, splaying out all your limbs? I am overcome with sorrow. Why do you not answer me, as if you were asleep?”
“You always used to worship your iron club, adorned with a fretwork of gold and, with a radiance like that of the sun, as if it were the vajra of Indra, the wielder of the vajra. With it you used to slaughter your enemies in battle. But now that smasher of your foes in battle, shattered by arrows, lies scattered in a thousand pieces. Curse me whose heart, oppressed by sorrow, does not shatter into a thousand pieces now that you have returned to the five elements.”
At this juncture, Rama said to Vibhīṣaṇa, “Perform the funeral rites for your brother and send these women back.”
Vibhīṣaṇa, who was deferential and understood righteousness, reflected and, in order to conform to Rāma’s wishes, replied with words that were filled with righteousness and political sense. I cannot perform the funeral rites for someone who abandoned both righteousness and his vows, who was cruel, heartless, and untruthful, and who assaulted the wives of others. Ever intent on injuring all creatures, he was my enemy in the form of a brother. So, although he should be respected because of the deference one owes to one’s elders, still Rāvaṇa does not merit respect. In this world, people will say I am heartless, Rāma, but once they hear about his qualities, they will all say that I acted properly.”
Upon hearing that, Rāma, foremost of those who upheld righteousness, was greatly pleased, and, skilled in speech, he said this to Vibhīṣaṇa: “I really ought to do what pleases you, since it was through your might that I have been victorious. Nonetheless, I must address you
with regard to what is proper, lord of the rākṣasas. Granted, the night-roaming rākṣasa was given to unrighteousness and untruthfulness. Nonetheless, he was always a powerful and energetic hero in battle. Rāvaṇa, who made the worlds cry out, was a great hero, endowed with might. One never heard that the gods, led by Indra of the hundred sacrifices, ever defeated him. But hostilities cease with death. Our purpose has been accomplished. You may now perform his funeral rites, for as he was to you, so he is to me. For he deserves a quick and proper funeral at your hands, great-armed knower of righteousness. Thus, you will reap glory.”
Having heard Rāghava’s words, Vibhīṣaṇa, hastening, provided Rāvaṇa with a fitting funeral. Vibhīṣaṇa then cremated him according to the prescriptions of
the ritual texts. Then, speaking soothing words again and again, he consoled the women. Once all the rākṣasa women had gone back, Vibhīṣaṇa came to Rāma’s side and stood there humbly. Then, having slain his mortal enemy, Rāma, together with his army, Sugrīva, and Lakṣmaṇa, attained as much delight as did Indra of the hundred sacrifices after slaying Vṛtra.
Excerpt from The Rāmāyaṇa of Vālmīki: An Epic of Ancient India, Volume VI: Yuddhakāṇḍa, Sargas 97–99; Edited and translated by Robert P. Goldman and Barend A. van Nooten. Introduction by Robert P. Goldman and Sally J. Sutherland Goldman; Princeton Library of Asian Translations
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