The Eye-sore of Ayodhya

[Guest guest]

Srimate SrivanSatakopa Sri Vedanta

Desika Yatindra Mahadesikaya nama:

 

The Eye-sore of Ayodhya

 

Sri Valmiki tells us that there was none in Ayodhya who was not

beautiful, none who was not well dressed, none who was unadorned with

scents and perfumes. The city and its natives had everything good

going for them, with everyone attired in the best of clothes and

ornaments. Everyone was strikingly good-looking and there was none

who was even remotely otherwise.

It was a beautiful city, with beautiful and handsome inhabitants.

Their beauty was not merely skin deep—all citizens of Ayodhya

were of impeccable conduct and character, pure as Maharshis. There

was none who coveted others’ wealth, because each had enough

and more. Everyone adhered to the righteous path scrupulously. There

were no thieves in Ayodhya, because there was no need for anyone to

take others’ property. There were no atheists in Ayodhya, no

agnostics nor anyone who did not discharge in full measure the duties

enjoined upon him or her, as per varNa and Ashrama. Even if you were

to search the entire city, you wouldn’t find a fool or an

unlettered individual—not merely were the citizens literate,

every one of them was a scholar, says Sri Valmiki. There were no

weaklings in Ayodhya, physically and psychologically; everyone lived

to their full lives, were blessed with happy families, with children,

grand children and great-grand children abounding. In short, Ayodhya

was an ideal city, with responsible, beautiful and righteous citizens

who were paragons of virtue. This, however, is no wonder, because in

the reign of the fair and faultless IkshvAku Emperors, things

couldn’t have been otherwise. To put it in a nutshell, the

denizens of Ayodhya were living examples of the maxim “yathA

RAjA tathA prajA:” (As the King, so the subjects). The Adikavi

is so impressed with the attainments of the citizens of the capital

city of KOsala dEsam, that he devotes an entire chapter to a

rapturous recounting of the merits of AyOdhyA vAsIs.

 

However, all these positive features in the citizenry of Ayodhya were

brought to nought in a second and their collective will thwarted, all

through the medium of a pitifully insignificant inhabitant of the

city, of whom none normally took any notice. It was because of this

person that Ayodhya, which was one big, happy family, was transformed

within seconds to a city drowning in a bottomless pit of sorrow, the

gay sounds of song and dance replaced by those of wailing, weeping

and breast-beating. A perfect Prince was turned into a nomad, His

lovely wife and devoted brother driven from the palace to the jungle,

and an Emperor, who would have lived on happily for a thousand more

years, died immediately due to unbearable sorrow. The teeming city of

happy inhabitants was transformed overnight into almost a ghost town,

shorn of its carnival atmosphere, with even non-sentient objects like

trees in full bloom withering away suddenly, unable to bear separation

from their youthful idol. This person was powerful enough, or could

wield such power by proxy, that the Coronation of the Paramapurusha

Himself , fixed with the consent of all concerned including the

Rajaguru Vasishtta, courtiers, and, above all, the discerning

citizens of Ayodhya, was cancelled at the last moment, with His

having to endure a jungle sojourn of 14 years, instead of reigning in

splendour on the throne of Ayodhya.

 

Readers would have guessed by now that the subject of this piece is

none other than the notorious Manthara, the hunchback.

 

When we hear her name, the figure that springs to our mind is that of

the grotesquely bent form of an old woman, with a crotchety face and

irascible temperament. She had a deformed back, which gave her a

skewed perception of life and people, which in turn was reflected in

her attitude towards others. Despite her looks or character, it must

definitely be admitted that it was she who brought about a crucial

turn in the epic, but for which events would have taken quite a

different and rather uninteresting course, with Sri Rama duly being

anointed Crown Prince and every one living happily ever

after—that is, every one except the long-suffering dEvAs and

Rishis, who would have continued to be tormented by Ravana and his

minions. The contribution of Mantara is thus extremely significant,

though her motives might not have been the best.

 

Do we find a contradiction in Valmiki’s description of

Ayodhya’s residents? While he portrays all of them as being

beautiful of body and mind, does he not take cognisance of Mantara,

who was anything but beautiful? When the Adikavi tells us that the

citizens of the great city had nothing but laudable virtues, has he

overlooked the hunchback, who was a scheming specimen of jealous

humanity?

 

We must remember, however, that whatever Sri Valmiki has laid down is

the gospel truth (“yasya vAk anrutA kAvyE kAchit atra

bhavishyati”). Commentators tell us that what Sri Valmiki said

is indeed true and he was talking about the citizens of Ayodhya, born

and brought up there under the benign influence of the IkshvAku

Emperors. Mantara, on the other hand, was an expatriate of KEkaya,

the homeland of KaikEyi. The hunchback came to Ayodhya along with her

mistress KaikEyi, when Dasarata brought the latter to his capital

city, as his newly wed bride. Thus Mantara was part of the

“streedhanam” or dowry KaikEyi brought with her to

Ayodhya, it being the practice in days of yore for princesses to

bring with them their own maids. And even in KEkaya, Mantara appears

to have been an insignificant part of the royal household, no one

knowing where she was born and to whom—“gyAti dAsi

yatOjAtA KaikEyyAstu sahOshitA”. Thus, by all accounts,

Mantara did not belong to Ayodhya and hence the worthy citizens of

Ayodhya could not be faulted for having such a one in their midst.

 

All of us know that Mantara was instrumental in asking KaikEyi to seek

Sri Rama’s banishment to the forests. But why? What harm did

Raghunandana do her that she worked through her mistress to ensure

His extradition to the cruel jungle?

 

We do not have an answer for this in Srimad Valmiki Ramayanam. The

Adikavi doesn’t devote much attention to Sri Rama’s

childhood and mentions it just in passing, apparently in a hurry to

chronicle the momentous events that await detailed recording. We are

just told that Rama and Lakshmana were inseparable and whenever the

former went hunting, the latter accompanied Him and neither took food

or water without the other being fed. This is all Sri Valmiki has to

tell us about the Prince’s infancy. It is indeed Sri

Rama’s misfortune that no Azhwar sought to rectify the

Adikavi’s omission and record for posterity the Prince of

Ayodhya’s bAla leelAs, as was done by Sri Periazhwar for Sri

Krishna.

 

However, we do have glimpses of Sri Rama’s childhood from other

sources. For instance, Sri Nammazhwar paints a rare picture of the

Prince wielding a catapult (“uNdai vil”). It must be

indeed difficult for us to picturise the sober and sedate

Chakravartthi Tirumagan with a catapult in His hand, but He did use

one, avers Sri Nammazhwar—and if anybody should know, Azhwar

should, having been blessed with unblemished wisdom by Emperuman. In

the fifth decad of the first hundred of Tiruvaimozhi, Azhwar tells us

that Sri Rama straightened the hunch of Mantara with a single shot

from His unerring catapult—“koonE chidaya uNdai vil

niratthil teritthAi GOvindA!”. Going by this account, we deduce

that Mantara’s must have been one of the first occasions when

the Lord displayed His glorious marksmanship, hitting the target

right on the head.

 

Sri Nampillai, in his beautiful commentary on the aforesaid line,

tells us that as in His other endeavours, PerumAL was prompted solely

by compassion for the hunchback and, by a well-placed shot on the

hump, straightened the poor creature’s back, destroying the

deformity. And He did this without the least harm to any other part

of her physique—“ivaLudaya allAda avayavangaLukku oru

vAttam vArAdapadi nimirttha”. Hence, even in sport, we find

that unlike the inconsiderate Krishna, Sri Rama was always

compassionate and merciful even to the most insignificant of men and

women.

 

While we don’t disbelieve Azhwar, we are assailed by a genuine

doubt. Azhwar says, “koonE chidaya uNdai vil niratthil

teritthAi GOvindA!”, very obviously referring to Krishna and

not to Rama. How then can the act be ascribed to the Prince of

Ayodhya? The commentator’s reply here is again extremely

enjoyable. Sri Nampillai says that whenever one thinks of any prank,

mischief or misdemeanour, it is to Krishna that the mind

automatically leaps. Being unable to associate Sri Raghunandana with

wielding a catapult and hitting people with its ammunition, though it

was indeed He who did it, Azhwar ends up ascribing the act to

Govindan, on whose unprotesting shoulders any blame for any act could

be laid without dispute—“teembu sErvadu KrishNanukkE

AgayAlE, avan talayilE Erittu solludal”

 

Well, coming back to Mantara, the aforesaid episode perhaps kept

rankling in her devious mind and she was awaiting an opportunity to

“get her back”. Though it must have done her a world of

good to have her hunchback straightened, perhaps she didn’t

like the way it was done, by a mere boy wielding a catapult. Whatever

be the reason, Mantara does not appear to have been favourably

disposed towards Sri Rama.

 

Coming to the day prior to the infructuous Coronation planned by

Dasaratha, Sri Valmiki appends an exclamatory mark

(“YadricchayA”), to the sloka about the festivities

coming to the notice of the scheming hunchback Manthara. Her

movements circumscribed by her deformity, Manthara normally stays on

level ground, finding climbing or any other form of exercise painful.

However, on the day prior to Rama becoming the Prince of Ayodhya,

Manthara takes it into her head to climb the steep steps to the

palace terrace, from where she has a bird’s eye view of the

enthusiastic preparations for the Coronation.

 

“GyAti dAsI yatOjAtA KaikEyyAstu sahOshitA

prAsAdam chandra sankAsam ArurOha yadricchayA”

 

This, in turn, makes her hatch plans for ensuring KaikEyI’s

supremacy in Dasaratha’s royal household and to incite the

queen to seek the long-forgotten boons from the Emperor.

 

Mantara, from her vantage point on the terrace, perceives the entire

Ayodhya draped with flags and festoons, an atmosphere of celebration

in the air and everyone head over heels with joy. She also finds

Kousalya giving away riches to alms-seekers. Puzzled at this carnival

atmosphere pervading Ayodhya, the hunchback investigates and finds out

the impending coronation of Sri Rama. She rushes down immediately, as

fast as her deformity would permit, and reaches Kaikeyi’s

quarters, boiling with rage—“dahyamAnA kOpEna MantarA

pApadarshinI”.

 

The proximity Mantara must have enjoyed with her mistress is brought

out by her addressing Kaikeyi as ”moodE!” (You fool). Sri

Valmiki describes the hunchback as well versed in the art of

speech—“vAkya visAradA”. When we read

Mantara’s discourse to Kaikeyi, exhorting her to stop Sri

Rama’s coronation at once, we are struck by wonder at her

persuasiveness, at her forceful, convincing and logical arguments, at

her perseverance in the face of Kaikeyi’s disbelief. If the

poor, unlettered hunchback was able, solely by her cogent arguments,

to convince Kaikeyi who doted on Rama, to seek His banishment, one

can definitely imagine her powers of oratory and imparting conviction

to a reluctant listener.

 

We are able to discern the gradual change of heart in Kaikeyi, almost

with every word of Mantara’s harangue. The Queen, when told by

the hunchback of the imminent coronation, immediately removes an

invaluable chain from her neck and presents it to Mantara, for having

brought the glad tidings of Sri Rama’s ascension. And, even

after listening to Mantara’s ranting and raving, Kaikeyi

initially remains steadfast in her love for Sri Rama and tells the

former that she doesn’t distinguish between Bharata and RAma,

as both are equally dear to her—

 

“RAmE vA BharatE vAham visEsham na upalakshayE”.

 

The same Kaikeyi, after having had a prolonged earful of

Mantara’s venomous words, veers around to the view that Bharata

should become the Prince in waiting (“YuvaraAjA”) at all

cost and Rama, the rightful contender to the throne, should be

removed from the scene post-haste. If a well-read, scholarly,

normally pure-minded lady like Kaikeyi, with a heart brimming over

with love for Chakravartthi Tirumagan, could be transformed into a

virulent opponent of the Prince, all within the space of an hour, it

speaks volumes of Mantara’s skills of persuasion. Her uncanny

ability, to sow seeds of hate in the most barren of soils and to

nurture them quickly into giant trees radiating odium, fills us with

wonderment.

 

It is she again who reminds Kaikeyi of the long-forgotten boons

obtained from Dasaratha during the SamabarAsura vadham and advises

her to seek the same from the Emperor immediately, insisting on Sri

Bharata’s coronation and the banishment of Sri Rama for

fourteen years. A perusal of the dialogue (almost a monologue)

between Mantara and Kaikeyi, as recounted by Valmiki, would make us

look at the hunchback with new respect (albeit laced with distaste)

for her persuasiveness and indomitable courage—yes, courage,

for, had her machinations been rejected by Kaikeyi out of hand,

Mantara faced the most cruel of punishments for her campaign against

the Prince of the land. Kamban attributes another reason for

Kaikeyi’s change of heart—viz., the good fortune of the

celestials and the misfortune of the rAkshasAs. Had not the Queen

undergone a change in attitude, Ravana would never have been

confronted or killed.

 

People say that Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. How else can you

explain Kaikeyi’s statement, after listening to the

“enlightening” words of Mantara, that the latter looked

beautiful? Kaikeyi launches into a detailed and highly complimentary

portrayal of the hunchback’s physical attributes, describing

her face as resembling the blemishless full moon, her form gracefully

bent like a lotus waving in the wind and so on. The Empress goes to

the extent of likening Mantara to an elegant swan in form and gait.

The scheming maid is praised as the Queen of Hunchbacks

(“KubjAnAm uttamA”) and as an honourable exception to the

rule that hunchbacks are mostly wicked, cruel and evil-minded. Not

only the maid, but the huge lump on her back also comes in for

praise, as being the repository of wisdom and diplomacy—

 

“Tava idam yat deergham ratha ghONam iva Ayatam

mataya: kshatra vidyAscha mAyAyAscha vasanti tE”

 

When we love a person overly, even their negative features appear to

us to be admirable—this is the case with Kaikeyi too, who wants

to adorn the hump of Mantara with priceless jewels, fragrant sandal

paste and the best of flowers.

 

Well, “enough about the hunchback”, I hear readers remark.

However, detestable as she may sound, all of us have to be extremely

thankful to Mantara for her intervention, for, had she not done so,

several of the glorious Lord’s magnificent attributes,

especially that of providing succour to those who surrender

(“abhaya pradAnam”), would not have come to light. But

for the pitiful hunchback, the Lord’s promise to the deities,

to rid them of Ravana’s oppression, could not have come to

pass. And but for her, we would have had no occasion get acquainted

with Sri Hanuman and his glory.

 

Srimate Sri LakshmINrisimha divya paduka sevaka SrivanSatakopa Sri

Narayana Yatindra Mahadesikaya nama:

dasan, sadagopan