On seeing the slain Ravana on the battlefield, the virtuous and wise Mandodari is grief-stricken. Yet, she has the acumen and vision to view Ravana’s life holistically and her grief is tempered by her unerring sense of dharma, said Sri R. Krishnamurthy Sastrigal in a discourse.
She recalls Ravana’s extraordinary valour that would cause terror to the Gandharvas, the Charanas and even Indra, and she wails that it is a shame that he now has fallen to a man’s arrow. But Rama is no ordinary human being. She confesses that she surmised this truth when He decimated the entire rakshasa tribe in Janasthana. Or how else is it possible that a mere monkey could enter Lanka and a bridge could be built over the ocean?
Fate took the form of Rama and conjured a beauty in the form of Sita to kill Ravana. Her good judgment sees Rama as a Mahayogi, the very Paramatma who is hailed as one with no beginning, middle or end. He is higher than the highest, nobler than the noblest. He is the light that shines beyond the darkness of ignorance.
Mandodari looks back on her prosperous life with pride in her unique lineage as well as her husband’s fame and her son’s glories. She understands the ephemeral nature of life and observes that when the good times have to give way to the course of destiny, one engages in mean acts that bring about one’s downfall. All beings are bound to die due to some cause. In Ravana’s case, he invited death by being attracted to Sita. Rama is only an outward cause of his fall. One who does wrong is sure to experience the effects of his wrongdoings in due course.
She bemoans the irony in Ravana’s case when what is deemed as a great personal feat, namely gaining total control over one’s senses, has itself recoiled on him. It looks as if the senses, ruthlessly subdued by him for gaining personal boons, were waiting to have their revenge on him and they had succeeded.
