पूर्वदिशि वानराणां प्रेषणम्

Then King Sugrīva, lord of the monkeys, his purpose now achieved, spoke to Rāma, tiger among men and crusher of enemy armies; the first word the poet uses of him, "his purpose achieved", shows why his words were now so full of certainty. "The strong lords of the monkeys who live in my realm, who can take any form and are splendid as great Indra, have come and taken up their stations. Here they are, terrible monkeys like the daityas and dānavas, come with warriors of great valour, strong and dreadful in prowess, their deeds and exploits famous, mighty and untiring, renowned for courage and excellent in enterprise. They range over land and water, Rāma, and live on mountains of every kind; these monkeys, your servants, have come in floods of tens of millions. All of them obey orders and all are devoted to their elders' good; they will be able to do whatever you intend, subduer of foes. Here they are, terrible as daityas and dānavas, come with many thousands of troops of dreadful valour. Tell me what you think the hour requires, tiger among men. This army is yours and at your disposal; it is for you to command it. I know well enough what their task is, but still it is for you to give whatever orders are fitting." A commander who has gathered his forces waits for his lord's word; this is the proper order. That they range over land and water hints already at the crossing of the ocean to come; the tens of millions come not as numbers to be counted but as a flood; "your servants" hands his army over to Rāma; and "untiring" shows they are fit for a long march.

When Sugrīva had spoken, Rāma, son of Daśaratha, took him in both arms and said, "Gentle friend, let it be found out whether Vaidehī is alive or not, and, wise one, the land where Rāvaṇa lives. When Vaidehī and Rāvaṇa's dwelling have been found, then I will do with you what the hour demands. In this business, lord of the monkeys, I am not the master, nor is Lakṣmaṇa; you are its cause and its master, lord of the leaping ones. You yourself decide and give the orders in my cause, my lord; you know what I need, hero, there is no doubt of it. You have friends at your side, you are valiant and wise, you know the right moment, you are devoted to our good, a trusted friend and the best judge of what should be done." Rāma gives up the part of the doer and lays it on his friend, the highest form of trust, for one who makes his friend the master raises his friend's spirit; naming Lakṣmaṇa too is part of his humility. His first command is not about war but about knowledge, "let it be found out", for he knows that searching must come before everything. The doubt whether Sītā is alive or not shows the ache in his heart, yet he lays out the plan with composure. "Knowing the right moment" is the root virtue of statecraft, for whoever does not know the time ruins everything; and so Rāma, beginning with praise, has the command given by Sugrīva and does not claim it for himself.

So addressed, Sugrīva, in the presence of Rāma and the wise Lakṣmaṇa, carrying out his promise before their eyes, spoke to a troop leader named Vinata, a mighty lord of monkeys huge as a mountain and loud as a thundercloud. "Best of monkeys, with monkeys bright as the moon and the sun, you who understand place, time and policy and are skilled in deciding what must be done, take a hundred thousand swift monkeys and go to the eastern quarter with its mountains, woods and groves. There search for Sītā Vaidehī and for Rāvaṇa's dwelling, in the mountain fastnesses, in the forests and along the rivers, the lovely Bhāgīrathī, the Sarayū and the Kauśikī." Here begins the description of the quarters, a special feature of this kāṇḍa, in which the rivers, peoples, islands and mountains of each direction are named in turn. Knowledge of place, time and policy are the three qualities by which an envoy's work succeeds; a hundred thousand is the size of each band sent to a quarter; and mountains, woods and groves are named separately to show how varied the land to be searched was. The east is named first, for it is the quarter of the sunrise, the auspicious quarter.

"Search the lovely Kālindī, which is the Yamunā, and the great mountain Yāmuna, the Sarasvatī and the Sindhu, and the Śoṇa with its water bright as gems; the Mahī and the Kālamahī, beautiful with mountains and woods; the Brahmamālas, the Videhas, the Mālavas, the Kāśis and the Kosalas, the Māgadhas with their great villages, and the Puṇḍras and the Aṅgas too, the land of the silk-worm keepers and the land of the silver mines. All of it must be searched as you range here and there looking for Sītā, Rāma's beloved wife and Daśaratha's daughter-in-law." This list of rivers and peoples shows the geography of ancient India; lands are even named for their trade in silk and silver, and in poetry geography too has its flavour. Seven great rivers are named, and since the Sarasvatī and the Sindhu belong to the west, the poet evidently takes the eastern quarter broadly; the Videhas, Kāśis, Kosalas, Māgadhas, Puṇḍras and Aṅgas are plainly eastern peoples. The search is to go on and on, not once but again and again, and naming Sītā as Rāma's beloved wife keeps the aim always in view, for in so vast a land the great danger is forgetting what one is looking for; calling her Daśaratha's daughter-in-law recalls the honour of her family.

"Search also the mountains that plunge into the sea, the port towns, and whatever dwellings there are on the summit of Mandara. Search the haunts of all these forest dwellers: the Karṇaprāvaraṇas, whose ears, the commentators say, wrap them like a garment, and the Oṣṭhakarṇakas, whose ears hang down to their lips; the grim iron-faced folk and the swift one-footed people; the strong ones whose race never fails, and the man-eaters; the Kirātas with sharp topknots, golden-skinned and pleasant to see, and the island Kirātas who eat raw fish; and the dreadful creatures that move under the water, called man-tigers, with a man's body below and a tiger's above. Search too the lands that can be reached over mountains, by swimming or by boat." In these descriptions the tales of ancient travellers are reflected, for that is how strange peoples of distant lands used to be described. That the one-footed folk should be swift is a paradox meant to amaze; swimming and boats are named separately as the two ways of crossing the sea; and two kinds of Kirātas are distinguished.

"Work hard to search Yavadvīpa, graced with seven kingdoms, and the Isle of Gold and Silver, rich in gold mines"; the mention of these islands shows a knowledge of ancient sea trade, and "work hard" means special effort is needed, for the islands are hard to reach. "Beyond Yavadvīpa is a mountain named Śiśira, which touches heaven with its peak and is visited by gods and dānavas. Search together, all of you, in the mountain strongholds, the waterfalls and the woods of these lands for Rāma's glorious wife. Then go on to the swift river called Śoṇa with its red water, and cross to the farther shore of the sea, where siddhas and cāraṇas live; among its lovely bathing places and strange forests search everywhere for Rāvaṇa and Vaidehī." The Śoṇa is said to run red because of the iron in it, as people say, and the farther shore visited by siddhas and cāraṇas is already a place of wonder; so the description moves step by step from the known to the divine, first familiar rivers, then islands, then the places of legend.

"The rivers that rise in the mountains, with their many dreadful thickets, the mountains with their caves, and the forests must all be searched. Then you must look upon the dreadful islands of the sea, and the sea itself, heaving with waves, most terrible, roaring and whipped up by the wind. There huge asuras, allowed by Brahmā and long starving, seize the shadows of creatures day after day." This old belief, that the asuras catch living things by their shadows, shows how fearful a sea voyage was; they do it not of their own will but by Brahmā's leave, and hunger that never ends is their punishment. "Approach that great ocean, dark as a storm cloud, haunted by great serpents and loud with its roar, only by a proper landing place, and going on to the terrible red-watered sea called Lohita you will see the huge Kūṭaśālmalī tree." Dark, serpent-haunted and roaring, the ocean is described by three things that stir fear, and even the warning to land only at a proper place is a lesson in caution. The Kūṭaśālmalī is the great tree that marks the island of Śālmali, near the dwelling of Garuḍa.

"There stands the house of Vinatā's son Garuḍa, adorned with many jewels, bright as Kailāsa, built by Viśvakarman"; the craftsman of the gods is recalled, and the jewels and the likeness to Kailāsa show its splendour. "There dreadful rākṣasas called Mandehas, huge as mountains, of many shapes and fearful to see, hang from the mountain peaks. Every day at sunrise they fall into the water, and, scorched by the sun, they hang there again and again. Day after day those rākṣasas are slain by the power of Brahmā's energy." The story of the Mandehas is well known in the Purāṇas: at dawn they rush at the sun, are struck down each day by holy power and live again, an endless round that seems like the endless fruit of evil deeds. They do not stand but hang, which shows how unstable they are, and "day after day" tells that the cycle never stops. "Then you will see the sea called Kṣīroda, the Sea of Milk, white as a pale cloud"; with this the mood turns from fear to beauty, a change the sarga makes again and again.

"Going there, invincible ones, you will see that sea wearing its waves like a pearl necklace"; the white waves of the Sea of Milk seem to be strings of pearls. "In its midst is a great white mountain named Ṛṣabha, ringed with flowering trees thickly set and heavenly in scent, and there is a lake called Sudarśana, crowded with royal geese, full of blazing silver lotuses with golden filaments"; the white of silver and the yellow of gold together make a lovely colour. "Gods, cāraṇas, yakṣas, kinnaras and troops of apsarases come joyfully to that lotus pool, eager for play," which proves how heavenly it is. "When you have crossed the Sea of Milk, monkeys, you will then see the sea of fresh water, a terror to every creature; there the great fire born of the sage Aurva's wrath has been given the form of a horse's head." With this sea fear returns, and the old legend of Aurva's anger, set in the ocean in the shape of a mare's head, is recalled.

"They say that this great rushing water, with everything moving and unmoving in it, is that fire's food. And there is heard the cry of the helpless creatures of the sea, wailing at the sight of that mare's-head fire." The fire under the sea feeds on the ocean itself and all that lives in it, a picture as terrible as the fire at the end of the world, and the fear is told through the ear, by the wailing that is heard, not only through the eye. "On the northern shore of the fresh-water sea, thirteen leagues away, is a very great mountain named Jātarūpaśila, shining like gold. There, monkeys, you will see the serpent who holds up the earth, bright as the moon, with eyes wide as lotus petals, seated on the mountain top, honoured by all the gods: the thousand-headed god Ananta, clothed in blue." This follows the Purāṇic belief that Ananta, the serpent Śeṣa, bears the earth; the blue garment against his moon-white body makes a lovely contrast of colour. "The golden palm-tree banner of that great being, with its three points, stands shining on the mountain top with its altar." The banner too is a landmark of the eastern quarter.

"That was set up in the eastern quarter by the lords of the gods. Beyond it is the glorious golden Mountain of Sunrise. Its peak, a hundred leagues long, touches heaven, and a heavenly golden altar shines there. It is lovely with flowering sāla, tāla, tamāla and karṇikāra trees, heavenly trees of gold, bright as the sun." Mountain, altar and trees are all golden, a picture wrought entirely in gold. "There is a peak there, a league wide and ten leagues high, named Saumanasa, made of gold and everlasting", lasting even through the end of an age. "There long ago, in his three strides, Viṣṇu, the supreme Person, set his first foot, and his second on the summit of Meru." The memory of the three strides establishes the greatness of the east: the place where the Lord first set his foot is first among all the quarters, and his second step on Meru links the two directions.

"Circling Jambūdvīpa from the north, the sun reaches that towering peak and is seen most clearly there." A reckoning of the heavens is here put into the language of poetry. "There the great sages called Vaikhānasas and Vālakhilyas are seen shining, the colour of the sun, strict in their austerities"; the Vālakhilyas, the Purāṇas say, are ascetics the size of a thumb, and their sun-like colour shows the power of their penance. "Before it shines this island called Sudarśana, and in it lie the radiance and the sight of all living beings"; that is why it is called Sudarśana, "fair to see". "On the ridges of that mountain, in its caves and in its woods, search everywhere for Rāvaṇa and Vaidehī"; the instruction is repeated to press the search home. "Filled with the radiance of the golden mountain and of the great sun, the eastern twilight glows red", the poet imagining that the red of dawn comes from the golden mountain. "This gate of the earth and of the worlds was made first, and it is where the sun rises; that is why this quarter is called the East," for the word for east, pūrva, also means "first".

"On the ridges of that mountain, among its waterfalls and in its caves, Rāvaṇa and Vaidehī must be searched for. Beyond that the eastern region cannot be entered; it is filled with gods, without moon or sun, unseen and wrapped in darkness. On all those mountains, in their caves and along their rivers, and in the places I have not named as well, Jānakī must be sought." By speaking of places he has not named, Sugrīva admits the limits of his own knowledge: search even where I do not know, and this shows a leader's honesty. "This far, bulls among monkeys, monkeys can go; what lies beyond, without sun and without bounds, we do not know"; beyond the edge of the world is the unknowable, where even monkeys cannot go. "When you have found Vaidehī and Rāvaṇa's dwelling, turn back when the month is full, from the Mountain of Sunrise. You must not stay beyond a month; whoever does will deserve death at my hands. Come back successful, having found Maithilī." The limit of a month will drive the story in the sargas ahead, for it is the monkeys sent south who will overstep it, and the harsh word of death shows how firm the king's command is. "Range skilfully, monkeys, through that quarter dear to Mahendra and adorned with groves, find Sītā, the beloved of the prince of Raghu's line, and then come back and be happy." Stern as the limit is, the sarga ends with a blessing, by which the commander takes away their fear. The last verse is in a longer metre, and with this sarga the search of the eastern quarter begins.