Episode Ten - A Sage's Request

Welcome to the tenth episode of The Journey of Rama. If this is your first encounter with The Journey, please read Episode One first.

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On with Episode Ten!

Brahmarishi Vishvamitra was one of the known world's most learned and revered sages. A former king, he had renounced his kingdom and become a forest hermit, attaining enlightenment through devotion, knowledge, and many austerities. Vishvamitra had conquered his mind, given up desires, and devoted his life to spiritual practice, but there was one flaw in his holy armor: Vishvamitra never entirely overcame anger. And on this day, the great Brahmarishi had reached the limit of his patience.

Living in the deep forest near the river Sarayu and performing powerful fire ceremonies, Vishvamitra had drawn the attention of three terrible members of Ravana's tribe, the demoness Tadaka and her two sons, Mareecha and Subahu. Tadaka had claimed the forest in which the sage lived, and her sons loved to disrupt the worshipful sacrifices of sages. Being one of the greatest rishis, Vishvamitra was a favorite target, and now he had had enough. He stood seething over his firepit, which now lay steaming in animal blood and demon's urine. He calmed his anger as best he could and made a decision. 'I have learned in my meditations,' he thought, 'that Lord Vishnu has taken human birth in the form of Rama, son of King Dasharatha. Ayodhya is where my help will be found.'

Vishvamitra prepared for travel and set off for Ayodhya. He hiked alongside the river, sometimes wearing his wooden sandals, sometimes dipping his callused feet into the holy Sarayu. Each evening he would pray before going to sleep on the hard earth, and each morning he would bathe in the river, perform his worship, and continue on toward his destination.

After some days, Ayodhya came into view. In previous times, when Vishvamitra was known as King Kaushika, he had dwelt in a magnificent palace, but even the castle of his memory paled before the splendor of Ayodhya's capital.

He could see the city gates and the palace beyond, and he could be seen by the watchman on the parapet. "Tell the king that a forest sage approaches from the East," the watchman called to some guards below. "I believe it is Vishvamitra!"

When Dasharatha was alerted, he instructed Minister Sumant to send for his guru, Vashistha.

"You know, your Majesty, that there is no love lost between those two," said Sumant.

"I know, noble one. But one should be able to count on the civility of two great sages, shouldn't one?" asked the King.

"Indeed, one should," answered Sumant as he bowed and left the room to carry out the King's order.

Vishvamitra stopped beside the river Sarayu to bathe and do purification before going into the city. He performed his daily ritual, dressed, and strode toward the main gate. As he entered Ayodhya, citizens put their palms together and bowed to the saint. He nodded to them but did not break stride on his way to the palace.

King Dasharatha rushed out to meet the great Vishvamitra. The monarch bowed low and touched the sage’s feet. “I am blessed by the visit of the Brahmarishi! Please come into the throne room and be seated.”

Dasharatha led Vishvamitra inside, through a high-ceilinged hallway, and into the throne room, where he insisted that the sage sit upon the throne. Servants brought a pitcher of water and a bowl for the King to wash Vishvamitra’s feet. After that, food was brought in: fruits, breads, and delicious sweets. Vishvamitra was delighted. The King then summoned his four sons to meet the sage. The princes bowed and touched the sage’s feet, then sat before him. Vishvamitra was stunned, not only by the attractiveness of the young men but at the spiritual power of Rama’s aura. He sat and gazed at Rama for some time, knowing that he was staring into the eyes of the Lord, a blessing beyond measure.

Vashistha arrived during this time, and after greetings and pleasantries were exchanged, King Dasharatha addressed Vishvamitra. “Revered one, this is the first time you have graced my palace. What brings you to Ayodhya? How may I serve you? Name your desire, and I promise your wish will be carried out immediately!”

Vishvamitra cleared his throat. “Your majesty,” he began, “demons have been attacking my ashram, desecrating my ceremonies, molesting my family and students without mercy. Something must be done. I come here to request that you give me the company of two of your sons, Rama and Lakshman. They have the ability to rid my abode of these Asuras and provide for our security.”

Dasharatha was stunned. He tried not to show his disappointment at the sage’s request, but Vishvamitra could read his countenance as if it were an open scroll.

“You may entrust your sons to me without worry or fear, O King. Your own merit will be increased, and your sons will receive untold blessings.”

Dasharatha rarely felt fear, but the thought of being separated again from Rama filled his heart with dread. “My dear reverend sir, you may know that I have been blessed with these sons late in my life and that they have only recently returned from their schooling.” Dasharatha paused to consider his next words. “Please ask anything of me: land, treasure, gold - I will give it all to you immediately. If you requested, I would part with my life. But my boys? They are too young to battle demons, and truth be told, I cannot bear to be parted from them. I implore you, do not ask this of me.”

Vishvamitra’s calm demeanor began to change. A vein pulsed in his right temple, and his face began to redden. “Excuse me, Sire. I believed I was making a request of King Dasharatha of the Solar Dynasty. Dasharatha of the Raghu clan. The King, whose family motto is “Let your promise live, even at the cost of your life! Who are you, sir, if not he?” Vishvamitra managed to control the volume of his voice; even so, his anger was apparent.

“But, noble sage...”

“‘Name your desire, and I promise your wish will be carried out immediately!’ Were those not your exact words, oh great and honest King?”

Dasharatha’s heart sank. He felt as if he could do nothing but gaze at the marble floor. Vashistha placed his hand on the King’s shoulder and calmly spoke, “My King, there is nothing in your kingdom so valuable as your word, not your life or even the lives of your sons. Of course, you will keep your promise. Furthermore, I am certain your sons will fare as well in the care of the great Vishvamitra as they did in my care.”

“Better,” murmured Vishvamitra. Vashistha smiled.

Looking up into Vishvamitra’s eyes, he said, “Sainted one, these boys are my very life. Take them, return them safely.”

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