After being subdued and spared by the Pandavas, Jayadratha withdrew, his life preserved only for the sake of kinship with the Kuru house. Yet, blinded by pride and folly, he mistook mercy for insult, and in that mistaken fire, vengeance took root within him. He wandered to the sacred confluence of the Ganga, where the holy waters murmur to the sky, and there he resolved upon severe austerities. Standing upon a single toe, he performed penance for long years, but the motive of his devotion was tainted—his prayer was not for enlightenment, but for vengeance. Yet the divine, though impartial, bestows fruit according to merit.
So, Jayadratha lifted his voice to Shiva, saying: “O Lord, who art one with the daughter of the Mountain King, whose beauty conquered desire itself, whose lotus feet are worshipped by the Sun, thou art the source of creation and the origin of the universe—grant me the wish that my heart longs for.” Long did he thus worship, until the Lord, pleased by his endurance, appeared before him in splendour and said, “Ask, O Jayadratha, what thou desire.” With folded hands Jayadratha prayed, “Bestow upon me the power to defeat the valiant Pandavas in battle.”
But the Great God smiled and said, “Thou asks what cannot be. Even if all the gods were to unite, they could not overcome the sons of Pandu. Yet, as thy austerities have moved me, I shall grant thee this: on one day, thou shalt be able to vanquish four of the Pandavas—but not Arjuna. Against him, the strength of all worlds would be as dust in the wind, for he is the dearest of Krishna, who is Vishnu himself, and is possessed of celestial wisdom and unmeasured power. Take this boon and hold it as truth.” Having spoken thus, Shiva vanished to his abode.
Jayadratha, Lord of Sindhu, returned to his kingdom, his heart swollen with pride, though the boon was but the shadow of triumph. Vaisampayana, in his narration to King Janamejaya, spoke of this man’s baseness—how, knowing Draupadi to be the wife of his own kin, he dared outrage her during the Pandavas’ journey to Salva’s realm, and thus invited his own humiliation. The boon that he prized so dearly was but a spark in the fire of his vengeance, bringing no true gain in battle.
Janamejaya then asked how the Pandavas bore that sorrow and continued their days in exile. Vaisampayana replied that they performed their daily rites as before, until one day, the sage Markandeya visited their hermitage. The brothers received him with reverence and told him of Jayadratha’s villainy and their trials. Yudhishthira, heavy with grief, said, “O divine sage, we endure these hardships in the forest, trusting in fate’s decree. But tell me, is there ever a prince or princess, like Draupadi or myself, whose life has been so steeped in sorrow? I know of none who suffer as we do.”
Markandeya, smiling gently, replied, “Why lament, O son of Dharma? Greater were the trials borne by the prince of the Raghu race, Rama the virtuous. He too wandered in desolate forests, enduring hardship beyond reckoning. His wife Sita, the jewel among women, was stolen by the demon Ravana. Yet Rama, with the aid of the monkey host, bridged the ocean, slew Ravana with divine arrows, and restored righteousness to the earth. He returned to his kingdom and ruled with glory for the joy of all generations.”
Then Yudhishthira said, “O sage, who was this, Rama? From what lineage did he spring? Who was Ravana, and how came he to steal Sita? Tell me all in detail.”
And thus, the sage began: “From the line of Ikshvaku was born King Aja, famed for virtue. His son was Dasaratha, who had three queens—Kausalya, Kaikeyi, and Sumitra. Of them were born Rama, Bharata, and the twins Lakshmana and Shatrughna. From the mind of Brahma came the sage Pulastya, who begot Visravas. From Visravas were born two lineages—of wealth and of wrath.
Visravas first fathered Kubera, lord of treasures and friend of Shiva. But Kubera, proud of his splendour, neglected his father’s counsel. Offended, Pulastya created Visravas anew and commanded him to raise up sons who would humble Kubera’s pride. Thus, three demon maidens—Pushpotkata, Malini, and Baka—were sent to serve the sage. Pleased by their devotion, Visravas granted them sons. Pushpotkata bore Ravana and Kumbhakarna; Malini bore Vibhishana; Baka bore the twins Khara and Surpanakha.
Ravana, the mightiest among them, possessed ten heads and arms like thunderbolts, his strength and arrogance without measure. Kumbhakarna shared his power but was dull with pride; Vibhishana alone was virtuous among them, gentle and steadfast in dharma. Khara and Surpanakha were fierce and cruel, delighting in wickedness. All these learned the Vedas and arts of war under sage Janaka, and for a time dwelt near Mount Gandhamadana.
When Kubera came to visit his father, the demons saw his radiant chariot and riches and were seized with jealousy. Ravana, inflamed by envy, undertook a terrible penance to Brahma. Through heat and storm, in fire and frost, he stood unmoved, subsisting on air alone. For every thousand years, he offered one of his ten heads into the sacred fire. When the last remained, Brahma appeared, restored his heads, and offered a boon. Ravana asked for invincibility against gods, serpents, spirits, and celestial beings—but not against men, for he deemed them weak. Thus, Brahma warned, “By man alone shalt thou be slain,” and granted his wish.
Kumbhakarna, deluded by fate, asked for eternal sleep, and so it was granted. Vibhishana, pure in heart, prayed that he might never forsake righteousness even in peril, and Brahma gave him immortality and the divine Brahmastra.
Enriched by boons and swollen with pride, Ravana drove Kubera from Lanka and seized his aerial chariot, Pushpaka. Kubera cursed the chariot, saying it would one day bear Ravana’s foe. Then Ravana, anointed by the demons as their king, stormed the heavens, defeated Indra, and spread terror through all worlds. The gods, in despair, went to Brahma and cried, “The ten-headed son of Visravas oppresses gods and men alike. None can resist him.”
Then Brahma replied, “Fear not. The preserver of the worlds, Sriman Narayana, shall descend upon earth to destroy Ravana and his race. The gods shall take birth as monkeys and bears to aid him.” Thus was the divine plan set in motion, and destiny turned her page to the next great chapter of the world’s history.
Markandeya’s voice flowed on, weaving the threads of fate and righteousness, as the Pandavas listened with folded hands, hearts lifted from sorrow by the grandeur of the tale.
