Sexual Life in Ancient India: A Study in the Comparative History of Indian Culture v1.c6.165

v1.c6.165

But the most famous example of a child’s love is probably Rāma. Everything is ready for his being consecrated as heir to the throne, when his step-mother, Kaikeyī, who at first with a joyous love for him has approved of all, but has then been goaded on by the hunchbacked, spiteful serving-woman, makes a stubborn protest, and wants to see her own son consecrated as the king’s successor ; Rāma for safety is to go off for fourteen years into the forest of banishment. Since the old king Daçaratha on the one hand is passionately devoted to her, but on the other is also bound by his earlier solemn promise of favour, he does not, indeed, agree, and even bitterly remonstrates with her, but he cannot meet her with the needful resolute negative. When Rāma learns what is happening, he is at once ready, and his only sadness is that his father does not speak to him. Among other things he says : “I should not wish to live a moment, if I were not gladdening the great king, if I were not obeying my father’s words, if the prince were angered with me. How should a man act wrongly against him in whom he sees the root of his own life, and who is the visible godhead ? (Rām., ii, 18.15–16). At the king’s bidding I would leap into the fire or the sea, and I would eat strong poison (ii, 18.29–30). There is no practice of virtue which were greater than obedience to the father (ii, 19.22). What is the good of our seeking by every means the favour of fortune, which lies not in our hands, and neglecting what we have in our hands : father and mother and teacher !” (ii, 30.33). Lakshmaṇa, who is devoted with a most heartfelt love to his injured brother, uses, indeed, in his anger words other than these, and very unusual with Indian sons. He chides the tottering old fool, blinded by love of women, wants to bind and if needs be even kill his father, to stir up a rising against him, and so on. But Rāma calms him, speaks kind words to Kaikeyī and of her ; he says that she who did after all so love him cannot be guilty, but that fate is driving her on against her will ; he even spurs on Lakshmaṇa to stop without any delay all preparations for the consecration, that her suspicious, painful anxiety about her own son’s happiness may at once be set at rest. But now he finds himself in a conflict of duties, which, however, does not unduly disturb him : his mother Kauçalyā declares she will on no account give him leave to go off into the forest, and she puts it to him thus : “ Obedient to his mother, with chastened soul, dwelling at home, Kāçyapa won the highest ascetic merit, and came into heaven. Just as the king, so must I, too, be honoured by thee with deep respect. Parted from thee, life and fortune is nothing to me ; by thy side, to eat grass only is the greatest weal. If thou leave me behind overcome with sorrow, and go into the forest, then I shall starve myself to death ; in such wise as that I cannot go on living.” But Rāma makes it clear to her by the examples of the old Rishis that the father’s bidding must always be unconditionally fulfilled. She is as one dead in her sorrow, and insists : “ As thy father, so also am I a Guru for thee because of my right and my love.¹ What can life mean to me without thee, what can the world mean, or the food of the dead or of the gods ! An instant near thee is more to me than even the whole world of the living.” When Rāma heard the woeful plaint of his mother, he burned once more in torture like a mighty elephant that is scared by men with fire-brands, and hurls itself once more into the darkness.”¹ But in spite of all he wavered not; he showed her that Daçaratha it was who was in authority over them both, and that he would come back himself, and gladden her heart (Rām., ii, 21).