इन्द्रवरेण वानरसञ्जीवनम्

When Rāma's father Daśaratha had left for Indra's world, great Indra, the chastiser of Pāka, well pleased, spoke to Rāghava as he stood with joined palms: “Rāma, bull among men, the sight of us is never fruitless. We are pleased with you, so tell us what your heart desires.” Brahmā had said in the last sarga that the sight of the gods never fails, and here Indra says the same: a meeting with the gods cannot be without fruit, so a boon must be given. Hearing the gracious, great-souled Indra speak so, Rāghava, glad and delighted, answered: “Lord of the gods, if you are truly pleased with me, I will speak; best of speakers, make my words come true.” Rāma's humility shows even here, for before asking a boon he makes sure of Indra's goodwill. And his gladness has a reason: the boon he is about to ask is not for himself but for others.

“Let all the monkeys who fought so bravely for my sake and went to the abode of Yama receive their lives again and rise up. The monkeys who for my sake were parted from their sons and wives — I want to see them all happy again, giver of honour. They were heroes and warriors who counted death as nothing; they strove and they fell. Bring them back to life, Purandara. They were devoted to my cause and cared nothing for death; by your grace let them be reunited with their own. That is the boon I choose. I want to see the langurs and the bears whole again, free of sickness and wounds, full of strength and courage. And wherever the monkeys may live, let there be flowers, roots and fruit even out of season, and rivers of clear water.” Rāma's first boon is not for his own kingdom but for the lives of those who helped him, and this is the proof of his gratitude. He asks not only for life but for health, strength, courage, food and water, their whole well-being; he knows that for monkeys who live in the forest, fruit, roots and water are the chief joys. By saying again and again “for my sake” and “my cause,” he acknowledges his debt. His thought for the monkeys parted from their sons and wives shows his fellow-feeling: he had known separation from Sītā himself, and he felt the separation of others. And in saying “that is the boon I choose” he names his boon plainly, as the proper form of asking requires.

Hearing the great-souled Rāghava's words, Indra answered warmly: “Dear Rāma, best of the Raghus, the boon you ask is a great one, but I have never had to say a thing twice, so it shall be. Let all who were killed by the rākṣasas in battle rise up, the bears and the langurs too, whose faces and arms were hacked off. Free of sickness and wounds, full of strength and courage, the monkeys will rise like sleepers when their sleep is over. They will all be reunited, in the greatest joy, with their friends, kinsmen, relations and families. And out of season, great archer, the trees will be bright with flowers and heavy with fruit, and the rivers full of water.” That he never has to say a thing twice shows that Indra's word is true: what he has once said he does not take back. He grants every part of Rāma's request in turn — life, health, reunion with their families, flowers and fruit out of season, and water in the rivers — to show that the boon is complete. The bears and the langurs are named separately so that every kind of monkey is included, and even faces and arms cut off by the rākṣasas are made whole again, which shows how wondrous the boon was. At once all those fine monkeys, whose bodies had been covered with wounds, rose up with their limbs whole and unhurt, as if they had simply been asleep, and all of them asked one another in astonishment, “What is this?” The image of sleep likens death to slumber: for the monkeys death had been only a long sleep, and their astonishment is natural, since they themselves did not know that they had died.

Seeing Kākutstha's purpose fully achieved, all the greatest of the gods, delighted, praised Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa and said: “King, go from here to Ayodhyā and send the monkeys home. Comfort Maithilī, so devoted to you and so renowned. Go and see your brother Bharata, who has been keeping vows in his grief for you, and great-souled Śatrughna and all your mothers, scorcher of foes; have yourself consecrated, and go and bring joy to the citizens.” Their counsel makes Rāma's next duties plain: to comfort Sītā, to see his brothers and mothers, to be consecrated, and to gladden his people. They call him “king” even before his consecration, for they already count him one, and the words about Bharata keeping vows in his grief recall the matted hair and bark garments he wore at Nandigrāma. Having said this, the thousand-eyed Indra took leave of Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa and went away happily with the gods in aerial cars as bright as the sun. Kākutstha saluted all those great gods and only then, with his brother Lakṣmaṇa, gave orders for the army to make camp; his courtesy never lapses. Then that great and glorious host, guarded by Lakṣmaṇa and Rāma, its soldiers all rejoicing, shone with splendour on every side like the night when the cool-rayed moon leads it. The image is lovely: the army brought back to life shines like a moonlit night; the darkness of the war has gone and peace has come. The sarga marks the turn from the sorrow of war to the joy of reunion. The army rests through the night, and in the morning, in the next sarga, come Vibhīṣaṇa's hospitality and the aerial car Puṣpaka.