In the brazen light of day, all damages were accounted for and by Vibhishana’s instruction, a mass cremation was held. He reformed the council and with the swift skills of rakshasa town planning, the city and kingdom of Lanka was to be a glittering jewel by the sea. Rama recommended that Vibhishana be installed on the throne, and so, preparations began in fervour. Everyone wanted a celebration—monkeys, bears, rakshasas alike.
Rama, Sita and Lakshmana were central to the rituals performed on the day of Vibhishana’s coronation. Even the rakshasas admitted there was a rhythm to life that they had not known before. Just when Rama, Sita and Lakshmana were sitting watching the jubilant crowds from their apartment, Hanuman came with an urgent message. ‘It’s from Prince Bharatha.’
Rama read out aloud from the palm leaf: ‘The end of the fourteenth year fast approaches with the next new moon. I have obeyed your instruction to rule the kingdom during your exile. I have done it in your name. If you do not return to rule this kingdom that has always been your right, I will build a funeral pyre that I will light and step into.’
‘We must hurry, otherwise, he will do it,’ Rama said, and all three of them leapt up.
It was a long way from Lanka. If they returned to the route Rama’s armies came from India, it would take another season and that would be too late. In any case, they hadn’t much to carry as they had no possessions. But when the time came to bid farewell to Vibhishana, he piled them with gifts and ships to carry across to Ayodhya.
To save time on their return journey, he escorted Rama, Sita and Lakshmana with Hanuman, in his aerial chariot across the ocean. When they landed on the shores of India, Rama and Sita decided they would like to walk into Ayodhya, just the way they had left all those many years ago.
It was night by the time they reached the outskirts of Ayodhya. The new moon was hidden behind the clouds. In the dwellings of the animal catchers and tamers, one woman looked out and said: ‘Fourteen years have passed. My child was born when Rama, Sita and Lakshmana left Ayodhya. Now their exile is over, they promised to return. But how dark it is, how will they find their way? Hmm . . . let me see. I have enough oil saved for one lamp. If I light it and keep it outside our hut, at least they will know they have reached this bank of the Sarayu.’
So, poor as she was, she drained what little oil she had saved for her dry hair, fashioned a wick out of cotton and dipped it in oil. She lit the lamp and kept it outside her hut as she went in.
Also read: ‘If Sanskrit is made by gods, is Marathi made by thieves?’ asked a 14th-century saint-poet
Another woman was standing out on the balcony of her house and thought ‘Hmm . . . fourteen years of exile have passed. I hope Rama has not forgotten his promise to
us to bring Sita back safely. Goodness! How dark it is. They must have travelled miles . . . not even one lamp, as if we are all in mourning.’
Then she caught sight of one solitary flame at the outskirts of Ayodhya. ‘Some poor soul has thought the same. If all they can afford is one lamp, then let me lay out at least twenty lamps.’ So her servants were summoned and oil was poured into larger lamps, and they decided to multiply the lamp count with their own, and on and on it went as the murmur went around Ayodhya until the entire city was like a night sky full of stars.
Rama and Sita entered a wonderful maze of lit streets, and when Bharatha caught sight of them as he ran down the steps of the palace, the whole city was chiming with
celebration with this festival of lights.
After the passing of fourteen years, Rama and Sita were installed at the coronation as king and queen of Ayodhya. Hanuman continued to live in Ayodhya as did Lakshmana, to serve Rama as faithful aides.
When storytellers sang of all those years, they always looked towards Valmiki, who inspired them about how the light of human hope saved the world. Finally, the only choice left to us is a path that has great moments of cacophonous dark out of which we make harmonies and light.
This excerpt from Vayu Naidu’s ‘The Living Legend: Ramayana Tales from Far and Near’ has been published with permission from Penguin Random House India.