Lakṣmaṇa understood that his brother was depressed and miserable as well as angry. ‘The king of the monkeys is unrighteous! He does not realize that today he is reaping the fruits of his past actions. He will not enjoy this royal splendour for much longer and so he chooses to ignore our task. Like a fool, he immerses himself in pleasure and does not think about repaying your kindness. Such immoral creatures should not be given kingdoms! I cannot control my anger! I shall kill him and he can join his brother Vālī! Vālī’s son can go out with the best of monkeys and recover Sītā!’ said Lakṣmaṇa and he leapt up and grabbed his bow.
‘The best of men is the one who can control his anger,’ said Rāma calmly, choosing his words carefully. ‘Behaving like this is not worthy of you. Act in the spirit of our alliance. Do not be harsh. Speak sweetly and only remind Sugrīva that the time for beginning our enterprise is slipping away.’
Lakṣmaṇa took his brother’s words to heart and entered the city. Wise Lakṣmaṇa, devoted to his brother’s well being, controlled his anger and went towards the monkey’s palace. Tall as Mount Mahendra and looking like death, Lakṣmaṇa carried his mighty bow that rivalled Indra’s and gleamed like a mountain peak. As he walked along, he rehearsed in his mind what he would say to Sugrīva, what Sugrīva’s answer might be and what he would say in return.
Filled with the fire of his brother’s anger, Lakṣmaṇa was not in a good mood as he strode towards the city like an approaching hurricane. His lips trembled with rage and soon, he saw immense monkeys outside Kiṣkindha. The monkeys noticed Lakṣmaṇa coming towards them and at once, those monkeys who were the size of elephants, armed themselves with boulders and trees. Lakṣmaṇa’s fury doubled, like a fire replenished with fuel, when the monkeys armed themselves. The monkeys saw that he was incensed, that he blazed like the doomsday fire, so they fled in their hundreds in all directions.
They ran to Sugrīva’s palace and told him about the arrival of the enraged Lakṣmaṇa. But Sugrīva, totally absorbed in making love to Tārā, did not hear them. His ministers ordered a band of monkeys, as dark and immense as mountains, to go forth from the city to confront Lakṣmaṇa. Fierce and cruel-looking, the monkeys had the valour of lions and they used their teeth and nails as weapons. But Lakṣmaṇa grew angrier still when he saw the monkeys guarding Kiṣkindha and when he thought of his brother’s frustrations and Sugrīva’s addiction to pleasure.
Angada approached Lakṣmaṇa with some trepidation. ‘Tell Sugrīva that I have come, my child,’ roared Lakṣmaṇa, his eyes blazing. ‘Tell Sugrīva, “Rāma’s younger brother Lakṣmaṇa stands at your door, burning with grief at his brother’s suffering. Lakṣmaṇa, the subduer of his foes, has come to se you!’” Angada ran to tell his uncle that Lakṣmaṇa had arrived.
Meanwhile, the monkeys watched Lakṣmaṇa bearing down upon them like an angry flood. They raised a hue and cry in their terror which sounded like the rumbling of thunder. Their noise woke Sugrīva and he rose, his eyes red and rolling back in his head with drunkenness, his garlands dishevelled, his ornaments awry. Two of his ministers, who had heard Angada’s news, came with him, for they were intimate with Sugrīva and were allowed into the presence of his women.
Plakṣa and Prabhava, Sugrīva’s advisors on artha and dharma, told him about Lakṣmaṇa. ‘Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa are righteous and honourable and they made an alliance with you. They are worthy of kingship themselves and they gave you a kingdom. One of them, Lakṣmaṇa, stands at your door, armed with his bow. The monkeys tremble and weep for fear of him. He has come here at Rāma’s command. Go with your son and your family and prostrate yourself at his feet. Calm his anger. Honour your promise and fulfil your commitment, O king!’
Eloquent Sugrīva rose from his seat and presented the proposition to be considered before his wise and experienced ministers.
‘I have neither said nor done anything wrong. Why is Lakṣmaṇa so angry? My enemies are always looking to harm me and they must have carried tales of my imagined lapses to Lakṣmaṇa! Use all your wisdom and experience to try and understand what his behaviour indicates. I have nothing to fear from Rāma or Lakṣmaṇa, but when a friend is angry for no apparent reason, one tends to get confused and bewildered. Making friends at any time is easy, but maintaining a friendship is difficult. The heart is so fickle that even a trivial thing can ruin a friendship. That is what worries me, for I can never hope to repay Rāma for all that he has done for me!’
After deliberating privately, Hanumān offered his conclusions in front of all the ministers. ‘No one is surprised that you recall Rāma’s affectionate favour to you, king of the monkeys! Heroic Rāma set aside all fear and killed Vālī, who was Indra’s equal, in order to make you happy. I am sure Rāma has sent his brother here in anger because of your agreement.
‘Though you are the foremost among those who know the right time to act, you have been otherwise engaged and seem not to have noticed that autumn has come. The time to begin our mission has arrived. It is clear that you have been rather careless. That is why Lakṣmaṇa has come here. Do not resent the harshness of Rāma’s message. He is in terrible pain because of the separation from his wife. You have made a mistake and I see no course of action other than appeasing Lakṣmaṇa with joined palms.
‘Ministers are appointed to give kings advice that will benefit them. So I have given you my opinion without fear of reprisal. Go to Lakṣmaṇa with your son and your family and bow your head before him. Honour your promise and fulfil your commitment, O king!’
Following Rāma’s orders, Lakṣmaṇa, the destroyer of enemy heroes, entered the huge city of Kiṣkindha that was built into the side of a mountain. The enormous monkeys standing at the gates bowed to him respectfully, but when they saw that he was angry and breathing heavily, they were apprehensive and stayed away from him.
Lakṣmaṇa looked around the city nestling in the valley with its jewel-studded buildings and flower-filled gardens. Full of elegant mansions and shops, Kiṣkindha overflowed with trees which flowered and fruited all through the year. The monkey citizens were the children of gods and gandharvas and they could change their forms at will. They were beautiful to behold in their fine clothes and celestial garlands. Kiṣkindha’s roads were perfumed with flowers and sandal-paste and the fragrance of natural liquors like mead and toddy wafted through the air. Lakṣmaṇa saw the homes of the great monkey chiefs and the wide thoroughfares that gleamed like white clouds. They were decorated with celestial flowers, filled with wealth and grain and adorned by women who shone like jewels.
The king’s palace rivalled Indra’s. It was surrounded by sparkling white walls which were hard to breach. It had several white towers like the peaks of Mount Kailāsa. Its garden had trees gifted by Indra that gave any kind of fruit that you could wish for. They were covered with flowers and provided generous, soothing shade.
Mighty Lakṣmaṇa entered Sugrīva’s palace uninvited, as the sun enters a huge cloud. He passed through seven courtyards before he came to the heavily guarded inner apartments which were filled with couches of gold and silver and seats covered with rich and beautiful brocades. Lakṣmaṇa could hear soft and melodious music as he walked in and he saw scores of women, all of them revelling in their youth and beauty. They sat there, adorned with rare flowers and exquisite jewels, weaving garlands. Lakṣmaṇa could not see a single retainer who was lazy, discontented or not fully adorned.
Finally, he saw Sugrīva sitting on a golden couch covered by a priceless brocade, shining like the sun. Around him sat beautiful women adorned with flowers and jewels. In his fine clothes and celestial jewels and garlands of flowers, Sugrīva appeared like Indra himself as he sat with Rūmā in his arms. The golden monkey stared at indomitable Lakṣmaṇa with his large eyes.
Sugrīva was terribly agitated when he realized that Lakṣmaṇa had entered the palace unhindered. He saw that Lakṣmaṇa was breathing heavily and was blazing with splendour, that he was clearly angry about his brother’s suffering. Sugrīva leapt up from his seat and his women rose with him, making him seem like the moon surrounded by stars in the sky. He stood trembling before Lakṣmaṇa, his eyes red and his palms joined.
‘A king gains renown in the world by being honourable, truthful, noble, self-controlled, compassionate and grateful to those who have helped him,’ said Lakṣmaṇa angrily. ‘There is no one more cruel and heartless than an unrighteous king who makes false promises to those who have helped him. He who does not fulfil his commitments after making use of his friends deserves to be killed by all creatures!
‘You are a base and ungrateful liar, monkey! You made use of Rāma’s skills and you have not repaid him! If you have any memory of what Rāma did for you, you should now be making efforts to find Sītā! You have indulged in all these vulgar pleasures and you have broken your promise. Rāma did not recognize you for what you are, a snake imitating a frog! Moved by pity, the great-souled Rāma secured the monkey kingdom for you, you wretched creature! If you can’t remember what blameless Rāma did, then, slain by these arrows, you shall soon meet Vālī! The road that Vālī took is not yet closed. Keep your promise, Sugrīva, and do not go the way of Vālī! You have obviously not seen the arrows which fly like thunderbolts from the bows of the Ikṣvāku heroes! That is why you indulge yourself and pay no attention to Rāma’s affairs!’
‘You should not say such things, Lakṣmaṇa,’ cautioned Tārā with her star-bright face. ‘The king of the monkeys does not deserve these harsh words, especially from you! Sugrīva is not deceitful. Nor is he cruel or ungrateful. He is neither dishonest nor a liar. He has not forgotten what Rāma did for him, which was something others would have found hard to accomplish on the battlefield.
‘It is thanks to Rāma that Sugrīva regained the ancient kingdom of the monkeys as well as Rūmā and me! Sugrīva has found himself amidst these pleasures after so many nights of deprivation and he has lost track of time, just as the sage Viśvāmitra did! When Viśvāmitra was infatuated with Ghṛtāci, didn’t he find that ten years had passed like a single day? If even a sage like Viśvāmitra, who understands and knows everything about time, could lose track of its passing, what then of ordinary creatures like us? Rāma should forgive this obsession with sensual pleasures in someone who has been deprived for so long and who, despite these gratifications, is still not satisfied.
‘And you, my child, should not get angry like this, like a common man, without really knowing Sugrīva’s intentions. Resolute men like you should not succumb to such bursts of passion! You know dharma. I plead with you on Sugrīva’s behalf not to hold on to your indignation. Calm yourself. I know Sugrīva would give up everything, the kingdom, Rūmā and me, just to make Rāma happy!
‘Sugrīva will kill Rāvaṇa in battle and restore Sītā to Rāma. You know that there are thousands of rākṣasas in Lankā. Without killing those fearsome creatures who can change form at will, you cannot hope to kill Rāvaṇa. They cannot be killed without allies, Lakṣmaṇa. Especially Rāvaṇa, he cannot be killed without assistance.
‘Mighty monkeys have already been despatched to summon hundreds of monkey chiefs to fight in this war for your sake, Lakṣmaṇa. Sugrīva has not set forth himself because he is waiting for the arrival of these powerful and magnificent monkeys who will support Rāma’s cause. Sugrīva sent out these instructions long before you came and the monkeys should arrive here today. Get rid of your anger, subduer of enemies. Hundreds of thousands of monkeys and bears will join you today!’
Lakṣmaṇa was gentle by nature and he accepted Tārā’s conciliatory words. When Sugrīva saw that he had been placated, he cast off his fear of Lakṣmaṇa as one would cast off wet clothes. He tore off his garland made of rare and beautiful flowers and ripped it apart as he shrugged off his intoxication.
‘Lakṣmaṇa, it was thanks to Rāma that I regained the ancient kingdom of the monkeys and this royal splendour,’ said Sugrīva humbly, his palms joined. ‘How can I ever hope to repay that god-like man for the great deed he performed? Rāma will kill Rāvaṇa and get Sītā back with his own powers, I shall only be a helper! How can anyone help the man who can pierce seven sāla trees with a single arrow? If I have transgressed the bounds of our friendship by presuming too much, then you must forgive me. Who is there that has never offended a friend?’
‘My brother has all the support he needs with you as an ally, especially since you are so affectionate!’ said Lakṣmaṇa, pleased with Sugrīva’s words. ‘You deserve the kingdom and all its pleasures, Sugrīva, because of your pure heart and your openness. I have no doubt that with your help, Rāma will soon slay all his foes in battle!
‘What you have just said, Sugrīva, shows that you know dharma, that you are grateful and that you are not likely to turn and flee in battle. Where would my brother and I find another like you, best of monkeys, one who admits to a fault even when he has the capacity to cover it up? You are Rāma’s equal in strength and courage and you were sent by the gods to be his ally!
‘But come quickly with me now, and console your friend who grieves so desperately for his lost wife! You must pardon the harsh words that I spoke after hearing Rāma’s lamentations!’