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Coldly spake the Queen Kaikeyi: “If thy royal heart repent,
Break thy word and plighted promise, let thy royal faith be rent,
Ever known for truth and virtue, speak to peers and monarchs all,
When from near and distant regions they shall gather in thy hall,
Speak if so it please thee, monarch, of thy evil-destined wife,
How she loved with wife’s devotion, how she served and saved thy life,
How on plighted promise trusting for a humble boon she sighed,
How a monarch broke his promise, how a cheated woman died!” “Fair thy form,” resumed the monarch,
“beauty dwells upon thy face, Woman’s winsome charms bedeck thee, and a woman’s peerless grace,
Wherefore then within thy bosom wakes this thought of cruel wile,
And what dark and loathsome spirit stains thy heart with blackest guile? Ever since the day,
Kaikeyi, when a gentle bride you came, By a wife’s unfailing duty you have won a woman’s fame,
Wherefore now this cruel purpose hath a stainless heart defiled,
Ruthless wish to send my Rama to the dark and pathless wild? Wherefore,
darkly-scheming woman, on unrighteous purpose bent, Doth thy cruel causeless vengeance on my Rama seek a vent, Wherefore seek by deeds unholy for thy son the throne to win,
Throne which Bharat doth not covet,- blackened byhis mother’s sin?
Shall I see my banished Rama mantled in the garb of woe,
Reft of home and kin and empire to the pathless jungle go,
Shall I see disasters sweeping o’er my empire dark and deep,
As the forces of a foeman o’er a scattered army sweep?
Shall I hear assembled monarchs in their whispered voices say,
Weak and foolish in his dotapre, Dasaratha holds his sway,
Shall I say to righteous elders when they blame my action done,
That by woman’s mandate driven I have banished thus my son? Queen Kansalya,
dear-loved woman! she who serves me as a slave, Soothes me like a tender sister,
helps me like a consort brave, As a fond and loving mother tends me with a watchful care,
As a daughter ever duteous doth obeisance sweet and fair,
When my fond and fair Kausalya asks me of her banished son,
How shall Dasa-ratha answer for the impious action done,
How can husband, cold and cruel, break a wife’s confiding heart,
How can father, false and faithless, from his best and eldest part?”
Coldly spake the Queen Kaikeyi: “If thy royal heart repent, Break thy word and plighted promise,
let thy royal faith be rent, Truth-abiding is our monarch, so I heard the people say,
And his word is all inviolate, stainless virtue marks his sway,
Let it now be known to nations,–righteous Dasa-ratha lied, And a trusting,
cheated woman broke her loving heart and died!” Darker grew the shades of midnight, coldly shone each distant star, Wilder in the monarch’s bosom raged the struggle and the war: “Starry midnight,
robed in shadows! give my wearied heart relief,
Spread thy sable covering mantle o’er an impious monarch’s grief,
Spread thy vast and inky darkness o’er a deed of nameless crime,
Reign perennial o’er my sorrows heedless of the lapse of time,
May a sinful monarch perish ere the dawning of the day, O’er a dark life sin-polluted, beam not morning’s righteous ray!”

THE SENTENCE

Morning came and duteous Rama to the palace bent his way,
For to make his salutation and his due obeisance pay,
And he saw his aged father shorn of kingly pomp and pride, And he saw the Queen Kaikeyi sitting by her consort’s side. Duteously the righteous Rama touched the ancient monarch’s feet,
Touched the feet of Queen Kaikeyi with a son’s obeisance meet, “Rama!” cried the feeble monarch,
but the tear bedimmed his eye, Sorrow choked his failing utterance and his bosom heaved a sigh,
Rama started in his terror at his father’s grief or wrath,
Like a traveller in the jungle crossed by serpent in his path! Reft of sense appeared the monarch,
crushed beneath a load of pain, Heaving oft a sigh of sorrow as his heart would break in twain,
Like the ocean tempest-shaken, like the sun in eclipse pale,
Like a crushed repenting rishi when his truth and virtue fail! Breathless mused the anxious Rama,–what foul action hath he done, What strange anger fills his father,
wherefore greets he not his son? “Speak, my mother,” uttered Rama,” what strange error on my part.
Unremembered sin or folly fills with grief my father’s heart,
Gracious unto me is father with a father’s boundless grace,
Wherefore clouds his altered visage, wherefore tears bedew his face? Doth a piercing painful ailment rack his limbs with cruel smart, Doth some secret silent anguish wring his tom and tortured heart,
Bharat lives with brave Satrughns, in thy father’s realms afar,
Hath some cloud of dark disaster crossed their bright auspicious star? Duteously the royal consorts on the loving monarch wait, Hath some woe or dire misfortune dimmed the lustre of their fate.
I would yield my life and fortune ere I wound my father’s heart,
Rath my unknown crime or folly caused his ancient bosom smart! Ever dear is Queen Kaikeyi to her consort and her king, Hath some angry accent escaped thee thus his royal heart to wring,
Speak, my ever-lovinging mother, speak the truth, for thou must know, What distress or deep disaster pains his heart and clouds his brow?” Mother’s love nor woman’s pity moved the deep-determined queen,
As in cold and cruel accents thus she spake her purpose keen: “Grief nor woe nor sudden ailment pains thy father loved of old, But he fears to speak his purpose to his Rama true and bold,
And his loving accents falter some unloving wish to tell, Till you give your princely promise,
you Will serve his mandate well! Listen more, in bygone seasons,–Rama thou wert then unborn,
I had saved thy royal father, he a gracious boon had sworn,
But his feeble heart repenting is by pride and passion stirred,
He would break his royal promise as a caitiff breaks his word,
Years have passed and now the monarch would his ancient word forego,
He would build a needless causeway when the waters ceased to flow! Truth inspires each deed attempted and each word by monarchs spoke, Not for thee, though loved and honoured, should a royal vow be broke,
If the true and righteous Rama binds him by his father’s vow,
I will tell thee of the anguish which obscures his royal brow,
If thy feeble bosom falter and thy halting purpose fail, Unredeemed is royal promise and unspoken is my tale! THE INDIAN PANORAMA www.theindianpanorama.news SPIRITUALITY FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2014 15 THE RAMAYANA

to be continued