The X Factor of the Ramayana

Illustration by Gemini AI

We need myths to understand the reality of people. “Art is a lie that makes us realise truth,” Pablo Picasso said famously. Every myth is an art. That is, myth is not truth, but it helps us understand truths. Because ‘the people’ is a mythical category, though historical as well.

People are a mythical category because they represent a living community with a soul, a shared memory, and a common destiny – something deeper than what one can measure or pin down. People form an entity that is much bigger than what logic and reason can explain, with its many complex dimensions like belonging, hope, tradition, and dreams. No one can reduce any people to mere jingoistic slogans and narrowminded concepts like nationalism. There is a mystery that buoys up well above slogans and jingles.

People constantly create relationships beyond themselves. There is something about them “that doesn’t love a wall,” if I may borrow an image from poet Robert Frost. It is not exclusion and strife that people want, but communities of belonging and solidarity. Populist leaders exploit people’s culture for their own advantage, as   Pope Francis wrote in one of his exhortations.

India’s great epics can offer sparkling pointers toward better understanding of the people.  

The X factor of the Ramayana is precisely that it is an effective tool in our quest to understand ourselves. It has everything in it, quite as Vyasa said about his epic: “Whatever is here is found elsewhere; what is not here is nowhere else.” All our virtues and vices, our inner angels and demons, are there in the Ramayana in identifiable shapes.

Rama’s anguish, Sita’s resilience, Lakshmana’s loyalty, Hanuman’s devotion, all are our own characteristics. Love, duty, loss, longing, betrayal, honour, sacrifice, and redemption – that’s what the Ramayana is about and that’s what our life is about too.

The Ramayana presents ideals: the ideal man, woman, brother, and devotee. At the same time, it does not shy away from showing how painful and complex it is to live up to ideals. Rama’s choices are not easy even though he is an incarnation of God. Sita’s trials are heart-wrenching. This tension between dharma and desire, between personal happiness and cosmic duty, is universal and timeless.

The scale of the narrative in the Ramayana is enormous with all those gods, demons, flying chariots, and cosmic battles. At the same time, it is an intimate world of a loving wife accompanying her exiled husband into a dreadful forest. There is a brother who escorts the exile with equal love. Another brother who shuns the royal throne out of love again. So much love. Yet what lies at the core of the narrative is a dreadful war. Conflict can make love stronger. It helps to bring people closer together in supportive hugs. But in this narrative the conflict leads to other complex conflicts. What stands as supreme: love or dharma? What is dharma without love? What value does that have?

The characters in this epic narrative thus become symbols rather than just story elements. Rama becomes the embodiment of dharma, Sita of inner strength and purity, Ravana of ego and unchecked desire, Hanuman of faith and surrender. Thus the narrative acquires a spiritual and philosophical depth.

In the Ramayana, the people – janata or praja – are never just background figures like the pawns on a chessboard. The pawns only appear to be in the forefront. Unlike them, the people of Rama Rajya were a living force, a kind of moral conscience that shaped and reflected the destiny of Rama and the kingdom of Ayodhya.

Finally, the Ramayana teaches that true leadership means entering into the mystery that ‘people’ essentially is with humility and compassion. 

PS. This post has been highly influenced by the autobiography of Pope Francis and is part of an A-Z series which is approaching its climax.

Tomorrow: Yes to Life

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