fufufafaThe Echoes of a Bygone Age: How Lanka’s Aftermath Shadowed Kurukshetra
Introduction
From the vast and ancient cultural landscape of the Indian subcontinent emerge two of its most foundational epic poems: the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. These traditional stories, composed thousands of years ago, are not historical records but imaginative narratives that ancient people used to explore ideas of duty, morality, and the human condition. While they narrate events from different mythological eras, a fascinating thread connects them. This article explores a story that acts as a bridge, examining the aftermath of the war in Lanka from the Ramayana through the eyes of characters on the brink of the cataclysmic Kurukshetra War from the Mahabharata.
Origins and Cultural Background
These epics took shape in an era of ancient India where society was organized around concepts like dharma (righteous duty), karma (the sum of a person’s actions), and a cyclical view of time. The ancient worldview divided time into four great ages, or Yugas. The Ramayana is set in the Treta Yuga, an age where righteousness and morality, though challenged, still largely prevailed. The Mahabharata, however, takes place in the subsequent Dvapara Yuga, a time of significant decline where virtue and vice are in a much closer and more contentious balance. People of this time used these grand stories to understand the perceived decay of moral values from one generation to the next and to grapple with complex ethical dilemmas.
Character Description: The Timeless Witness
Central to this connection is the figure of Hanuman. In the mythological framework, Hanuman is a Vanara, a powerful forest-dwelling being, who is described with immense physical strength, intellect, and devotion. He is also considered a Chiranjivi, one of seven legendary beings granted the boon of living until the end of the current cycle of creation. This makes him a unique character: a living relic of a more virtuous past. Symbolically, Hanuman represents unwavering loyalty, selfless service, and profound humility. His strength is not a source of arrogance but a tool for serving a righteous cause. As a timeless witness, he carries the memories of the Treta Yuga into the darkening world of the Dvapara Yuga, providing a unique perspective on the unfolding tragedy of the Kurukshetra War.
Main Story: The Weight of an Ancient Tail
The Pandava brothers, heroes of the Mahabharata, were in the thirteenth year of their exile. They wandered the dense forests, their kingdom stolen by their cousins, the Kauravas. One day, Draupadi, their wife, expressed a desire for the mythical Saugandhika flower, whose fragrance was said to fill the heavens. Bhima, the second brother, known for his colossal strength and impulsive nature, immediately set off to find it.
His path took him deep into a mountainous jungle where no human had tread. The air grew heavy with an ancient stillness. As he forged ahead, pushing aside giant ferns and tangled vines, he found his way blocked by a large, old monkey lying across the path. Its long tail lay stretched out, an impassable barrier.
“Old one, move your tail,” Bhima commanded, his voice booming with the impatience of a man accustomed to having his way.
The monkey, barely opening its eyes, replied in a frail voice, “I am old and weary. I cannot move. If you must pass, brave warrior, simply lift my tail and place it to the side.”
Bhima scoffed. It was a simple task for a man who could uproot trees and wrestle elephants. He reached down with one hand to flick the tail aside. It didn’t move. Surprised, he gripped it with both hands, planting his feet firmly on the ground. He pulled with all the legendary might that had made him famous, his muscles straining until they felt like cords of steel. The tail remained as immovable as the mountain itself. Sweat beaded on his brow. Humiliation and awe washed over him. This was no ordinary creature.
Folding his hands in reverence, Bhima asked, “Forgive my arrogance, great being. Who are you?”
The old monkey slowly sat up, its form seeming to grow in stature and presence. A gentle smile touched its lips. “I am Hanuman,” it said. “And you, son of the Wind God Vayu, are my spiritual brother.”
Bhima fell to his knees. He was in the presence of a legend from a bygone era. He had heard countless stories of Hanuman’s exploits in the service of Rama during the war for Lanka. Seizing the opportunity, he asked Hanuman to tell him of that time.
Hanuman’s eyes grew distant, filled with a melancholy that seemed to span millennia. He spoke of the Treta Yuga, of his lord Rama, and the war to rescue Sita from the clutches of the demon-king Ravana. “It was a different time, Bhima,” he began, his voice now deep and resonant. “The lines were clearly drawn. We fought for dharma, to restore a wife to her husband, to vanquish a clear evil. There was no quarrel over land, no inheritance dispute. Our army of Vanaras and bears fought out of love for Rama, not for a promise of power or wealth.”
He described the aftermath of Lanka. After Ravana’s defeat, the kingdom was not plundered or annexed. It was handed to Ravana’s righteous brother, Vibhishana, to rule with justice. “Lanka,” Hanuman explained, “became a testament to righteous victory. It thrived under a just king, a symbol that even after great conflict, order and virtue could be restored. That was the fruit of a war fought for a pure cause.”
Then, his gaze fell upon Bhima, and his expression turned grave. “But I have watched the world since. I have seen the seeds of your conflict being sown. Your war, the one that looms over Kurukshetra, is different. It is a war of kin against kin. A war for a kingdom, fueled by greed, jealousy, and wounded pride. Both sides have righteous men, and both sides have committed grievous errors. The clarity of our war in Lanka is lost in the murky ambitions of your Dvapara Yuga.”
Hanuman’s words were not a condemnation but a sorrowful observation. He was a living bridge between two ages, and he saw the tragic decline. The aftermath of Lanka was a restored kingdom; the aftermath of Kurukshetra, he foresaw, would be a field of ashes, widows’ cries, and a victory so hollow it would taste like defeat. As a final lesson, he told Bhima, “Your great strength is a gift, but it is your pride that is the true obstacle. True power lies in humility and devotion to a cause greater than oneself.”
He blessed his younger brother, promising to lend his spiritual presence to their cause by residing on the flag of Arjuna’s chariot. His roar would strike fear into their enemies, but he would remain a silent, sorrowful witness to the tragic fulfillment of a lesser age.
Symbolism and Meaning
To the ancient people who told this story, the encounter between Bhima and Hanuman was rich with symbolism. It represented the humbling of physical pride before spiritual wisdom. Bhima’s inability to lift Hanuman’s tail was a powerful metaphor: the accumulated might and arrogance of the Dvapara Yuga were nothing compared to the humble, selfless power of the more virtuous Treta Yuga. The story served as a moral lesson, highlighting the difference between a war fought for pure dharma (Lanka) and a war born of familial conflict and ambition (Kurukshetra). The "aftermath of Lanka" becomes a benchmark for a righteous outcome, an ideal that the heroes of the Mahabharata are tragically unable to achieve.
Modern Perspective
Today, these epics continue to be a source of inspiration and study. The story of Bhima and Hanuman is retold in countless television series, comic books (like the popular Amar Chitra Katha series), and novels. In cultural studies, this narrative is analyzed as a poignant commentary on the cyclical nature of time and the perceived erosion of ethics in Hindu philosophy. Modern adaptations often use this meeting to explore themes of history, memory, and the burden of immortality. Hanuman’s character, as a bridge between eras, allows storytellers to create a dialogue between the past and the present, questioning whether humanity learns from its history or is doomed to repeat its mistakes on a grander, more tragic scale.
Conclusion
The tale of Hanuman’s counsel to Bhima is a masterful piece of mythological storytelling, weaving two epic traditions into a single, cohesive moral narrative. It stands as a powerful cultural artifact, a story designed to explore complex ideas about duty, pride, and the changing nature of morality over time. It is important to remember that this is a product of human imagination and cultural heritage, a way for ancient peoples to make sense of their world.
As Muslims, we recognize that only Allah is the true Creator and Sustainer of the universe, and all power and wisdom belong to Him alone. These mythological stories, while not to be believed, offer a valuable window into the history of human thought, demonstrating the universal and timeless power of storytelling to convey the deepest anxieties and aspirations of a culture. They remain a testament to the enduring human quest for meaning in a complex world.
