Hindu literature Part 40

CANTO XXVI

THE FOREST OF TaDAKa

When the fair light of morning rose The princely tamers of their foes Followed, his morning wors.h.i.+p o'er, The hermit to the river's sh.o.r.e.

The high-souled men with thoughtful care A pretty barge had stationed there.

All cried, "O lord, this barge ascend, And with thy princely followers bend To yonder side thy prosperous way-- With nought to check thee or delay."

Nor did the saint their rede reject: He bade farewell with due respect, And crossed, attended by the twain, That river rus.h.i.+ng to the main.

When now the bark was half-way o'er, Rama and Lakshman heard the roar, That louder grew and louder yet, Of waves by das.h.i.+ng waters met.

Then Rama asked the mighty seer:-- "What is the tumult that I hear Of waters cleft in mid-career?"

Soon as the speech of Rama, stirred By deep desire to know, he heard, The pious saint began to tell What caused the waters' roar and swell:-- "On high Kailasa's distant hill There lies a n.o.ble lake Whose waters, born from Brahma's will, The name of Manas take.

Thence, hallowing where'er they flow, The streams of Sarju fall, And wandering through the plains below Embrace Ayodhya's wall.

Still, still preserved in Sarju's name Sarovar's fame we trace, The flood of Brahma whence she came To run her holy race.

To meet great Ganga here she hies With tributary wave-- Hence the loud roar ye hear arise, Of floods that swell and rave.

Here, pride of Raghu's line, do thou In humble adoration bow."

He spoke. The princes both obeyed, And reverence to each river paid.

They reached the southern sh.o.r.e at last, And gayly on their journey pa.s.sed.

A little s.p.a.ce beyond there stood A gloomy awe-inspiring wood.

The monarch's n.o.ble son began To question thus the holy man:-- "Whose gloomy forest meets mine eye, Like some vast cloud that fills the sky?

Pathless and dark it seems to be, Where birds in thousands wander free; Where shrill cicadas' cries resound, And fowl of dismal note abound.

Lion, rhinoceros, and bear, Boar, tiger, elephant, are there, There shrubs and thorns run wild: Dhao, Sal, Bignonia, Bel, are found, And every tree that grows on ground: How is the forest styled?"

The glorious saint this answer made:-- "Dear child of Raghu, hear Who dwells within the horrid shade That looks so dark and drear.

Where now is wood, long ere this day Two broad and fertile lands, Malaja and Karusha lay, Adorned by heavenly hands.

Here, mourning friends.h.i.+p's broken ties, Lord Indra of the thousand eyes Hungered and sorrowed many a day, His brightness soiled with mud and clay, When in a storm of pa.s.sion he Had slain his dear friend Namuchi.

Then came the G.o.ds and saints who bore Their golden pitchers br.i.m.m.i.n.g o'er With holy streams that banish stain, And bathed Lord Indra pure again.

When in this land the G.o.d was freed From spot and stain of impious deed For that his own dear friend he slew, High transport thrilled his bosom through.

Then in his joy the lands he blessed, And gave a boon they long possessed:-- "Because these fertile lands retain The was.h.i.+ngs of the blot and stain, ('Twas thus Lord Indra sware,) Malaja and Karusha's name Shall celebrate with deathless fame My malady and care."

"So be it," all the Immortals cried, When Indra's speech they heard-- And with acclaim they ratified The names his lips conferred.

"Long time, O victor of thy foes, These happy lands had sweet repose, And higher still in fortune rose.

At length a spirit, loving ill, Tadaka, wearing shapes at will-- Whose mighty strength, exceeding vast, A thousand elephants' surpa.s.sed, Was to fierce Sunda, lord and head Of all the demon armies, wed.

From her, Lord Indra's peer in might Giant Maricha sprang to light; And she, a constant plague and pest, These two fair realms has long distressed.

Now dwelling in her dark abode A league away she bars the road: And we, O Rama, hence must go Where lies the forest of the foe.

Now on thine own right arm rely, And my command obey: Smite the foul monster that she die, And take the plague away.

To reach this country none may dare, Fallen from its old estate, Which she, whose fury nought can bear, Has left so desolate.

And now my truthful tale is told-- How with accursed sway The spirit plagued this wood of old, And ceases not to-day."

CANTO XXVII

THE BIRTH OF TaDAKa

When thus the sage without a peer Had closed that story strange to hear, Rama again the saint addressed, To set one lingering doubt at rest:-- "O holy man, 'tis said by all That spirits' strength is weak and small, How can she match, of power so slight, A thousand elephants in might?"

And Visvamitra thus replied To Raghu's son, the glorified:-- "Listen, and I will tell thee how She gained the strength that arms her now.

A mighty spirit lived of yore; Suketu was the name he bore.

Childless was he, and free from crime In rites austere he pa.s.sed his time.

The mighty Sire was pleased to show His favor, and a child bestow, Tadaka named, most fair to see, A pearl among the maids was she-- And matched, for such was Brahma's dower, A thousand elephants in power.

Nor would the Eternal Sire, although The spirit longed, a son bestow.

That maid in beauty's youthful pride Was given to Sunda for a bride.

Her son, Maricha was his name, A giant, through a curse, became.

She, widowed, dared with him molest Agastya, of all saints the best.

Inflamed with hunger's wildest rage, Roaring she rushed upon the sage.

When the great hermit saw her near, On-speeding in her fierce career, He thus p.r.o.nounced Maricha's doom:-- 'A giant's form and shape a.s.sume,'

And then, by mighty anger swayed, On Tadaka this curse he laid:-- 'Thy present form and semblance quit, And wear a shape thy mood to fit; Changed form and feature by my ban, A fearful thing that feeds on man.'

She, by his awful curse possessed, And mad with rage that fills her breast, Has on this land her fury dealt Where once the saint Agastya dwelt.

Go, Rama, smite this monster dead, The wicked plague, of power so dread, And further by this deed of thine The good of Brahmans and of kine.

Thy hand alone can overthrow, In all the worlds, this impious foe.

Nor let compa.s.sion lead thy mind To shrink from blood of womankind; A monarch's son must ever count The people's welfare paramount-- And whether pain or joy he deal Dare all things for his subjects' weal; Yea, if the deed bring praise or guilt, If life be saved or blood be spilt:-- Such, through all time, should be the care Of those a kingdom's weight who bear.

Slay, Rama, slay this impious fiend, For by no law her life is screened.

So Manthara, as bards have told, Virochan's child, was slain of old By Indra, when in furious hate She longed the earth to devastate.

So Kavya's mother, Bhrigu's wife, Who loved her husband as her life, When Indra's throne she sought to gain, By Vishnu's hand of yore was slain.

By these and high-souled kings beside, Struck down, have lawless women died."

CANTO XXVIII

THE DEATH OF TaDAKa

Thus spoke the saint. Each vigorous word The n.o.ble monarch's offspring heard-- And, reverent hands together laid, His answer to the hermit made:-- "My sire and mother bade me aye Thy word, O mighty Saint, obey.

So will I, O most glorious, kill This Tadaka who joys in ill-- For such my sire's, and such thy will.

To aid with mine avenging hand The Brahmans, kine, and all the land, Obedient, heart and soul, I stand."

Thus spoke the tamer of the foe, And by the middle grasped his bow.

Strongly he drew the sounding string That made the distant welkin ring.

Scared by the mighty clang the deer That roamed the forest shook with fear.

And Tadaka the echo heard, And rose in haste from slumber stirred.

In wild amaze, her soul aflame With fury towards the spot she came.

When that foul shape of evil mien And stature vast as e'er was seen The wrathful son of Raghu eyed, He thus unto his brother cried:-- "Her dreadful shape, O Lakshman, see, A form to shudder at and flee.

The hideous monster's very view Would cleave a timid heart in two.

Behold the demon hard to smite, Defended by her magic might.

My hand shall stay her course to-day, And shear her nose and ears away.

No heart have I her life to take: I spare it for her s.e.x's sake.

My will is but--with minished force-- To check her in her evil course."

While thus he spoke, by rage impelled-- Roaring as she came nigh, The fiend her course at Rama held With huge arms tossed on high.

Her, rus.h.i.+ng on, the seer a.s.sailed With a loud cry of hate; And thus the sons of Raghu hailed:-- "Fight, and be fortunate."

Then from the earth a horrid cloud Of dust the demon raised, And for awhile in darkling shroud Wrapt Raghu's sons amazed.

Then calling on her magic power The fearful fight to wage, She smote him with a stony shower, Till Rama burned with rage.

Then pouring forth his arrowy rain That stony flood to stay, With winged darts, as she charged amain, He sh.o.r.e her hands away.

As Tadaka still thundered near Thus maimed by Rama's blows, Lakshman in fury severed sheer The monster's ears and nose.

a.s.suming by her magic skill A fresh and fresh disguise, She tried a thousand shapes at will, Then vanished from their eyes.

When Gadhi's son of high renown Still saw the stony rain pour down Upon each princely warrior's head, With words of wisdom thus he said:-- "Enough of mercy, Rama, lest This sinful evil-working pest, Disturber of each holy rite, Repair by magic arts her might.

Without delay the fiend should die, For, see, the twilight hour is nigh.

And at the joints of night and day Such giant foes are hard to slay."

Then Rama, skilful to direct His arrow to the sound-- With shafts the mighty demon checked Who rained her stones around.