Trishasti Shalaka Purusa Caritra Part 4

SR No.: 001004
Original Sutra Author: Hemchandracharya
Author: Helen M Johnson
Publisher: Oriental Research Institute Vadodra
Publication Year: 1954
Total Pages: 449
Language: English
Classification: Book_English, Mythology, & Story
File Size: 9 MB

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CHAPTER SEVEN
restrained by unfavorable omens. Again a battle started between the armies of Rāma and Rāvaņa and the elephants of the quarters were terrified by the very loud slaps on the arms of the soldiers. Scattering the other Rakşases, like a wind pieces of cotton, Lakşmaņa struck Daśakandhara with arrows. Seeing Saumitri's strength with anxiety, Daśakandhara recalled the vidyā, Bahurūpā, terrifying to. all. The vidyā was present there just from being recalled and Rävaņa quickly created many terrible forms of himself. Lakşmaņa saw Rāvaņas only on the ground, in the air, behind, in front, and at his sides, raining many weapons. The Tärksyastha (Vāsudeva) Laksmaņa, though one, slew the Rāvaņas with sharp arrows produced by thought, as if he had as many forms (as Rävaņa). Dasakandhara, distracted by Nārāyaṇa's arrows, recalled the flaming cakra, the sign of being an Ardhacakrin. Red-eyed from anger, Rāvana whirled the cakra in the air and discharged it, the last weapon, at Rāma's younger brother. After making the circumambulation, it remained at Saumitri's right hand, like the sun on the peak of the eastern mountain. Depressed, Rāvaņa thought, “The speech of the muni has become true and the considered judgment of Bibhīşaņa and others was true." Seeing his brother depressed, Bibhīşaņa said, “Brother, now free Vaidehī, if you wish to live.” Angered Răvaņa said: “What are weapons, even the cakra, to me, villain? I shall kill the enemy, even if he has the cakra, very quickly with my fist.”
As the lord of Rākşasas was speaking in this way from arrogance, Lakşmaņa split open his chest, like a gourd, with the same cakra. Then Daśagrīva died in the last watch of the eleventh day of the dark half of Jyeștha and went to the fourth hell.
At once a rain of flowers was made on Lakşmaņa by the gods crying, “Victory, victory," and a violent dance took place among the Kapis, having the bower of heaven and earth filled with the cries of "Kila! Kila !” instigated by extreme joy.