SIMPLIFIED AND FAITHFUL RENDERING OF THE ADI KAVYA-3 ..... Valmiki Ramayana: A Treasure for All Humanity by Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 SIMPLIFIED AND FAITHFUL

RENDERING OF THE ADI KAVYA-3

Valmiki Ramayana: A Treasure for All Humanity

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

A humble presentation of Valmiki Ramayana in English is born of an inner urge to make India’s most sacred epic accessible to those who, though Indian by origin, have gradually lost touch with their mother tongues, often out of compulsion and in tune with ever changing times. Living far from their roots, many Non-Resident Indians, and their children, including my close relations, desire to know what their ancestors read, revered, and lived by. To them this simplified yet faithful rendering of the Adi Kavya, not as a mere translation, as was done by many earlier, but as a bridge between languages, generations, and continents.

The effort is not scholastic but devotional, a sincere attempt to awaken curiosity, reverence, and reflection in minds that think in English but feel in Indian rhythm. With a firm belief that, the Valmiki Ramayana is not a book to be just finished the reading, but a companion to be cherished; not an ancient legend to be admired from far away, but a living light to be carried within. If these pages help even a few readers rediscover that light, the purpose of this endeavor shall stand fulfilled.

Among the sacred compositions of ancient India, Valmiki Ramayana, Vyasa Mahabharata, and Vyasa Maha Bhagavata stand as unparalleled works in the divine Sanskrit Language, which belongs to the Indo-Iranian Branch of the Indo-European Language Family, making it a relative to English, Spanish, Russian, and even considered as the mother language. Bharata, Bhagavata and Ramayana to be precise, are not mere epics, but they are extensions of the Vedas and Vedanta, enriched with profound spiritual meanings.

Of the three, Valmiki Ramayana is the earliest and therefore honored as the Adi Kavya, the first and foremost among all poetic works. As said in Uttara Kanda, only those who truly understand and interpret Valmiki Ramayana are capable to convey its inner essence to the world. Such realization is not easily attained by all. In an era when many young minds (to that matter even significant number of elders) know little of their cultural scriptures, understanding Valmiki Ramayana opens not just a window into mythology but into the origins of human ethics and aesthetics.

There is no civilization unknown to our wise ancestors. Who were these Aryans, what virtues did they possess, and how did they live with such noble values? What principles guided their social order, their family bonds, their relationship between rulers and the ruled? How did husbands and wives, brothers, parents, and children conduct themselves? What ideals governed men and women in joy and sorrow alike? What was their understanding of God and devotion (Bhakti)? How did they worship and revere the divine?

To anyone who seeks to explore these worldly and spiritual truths, there exists no greater source of illumination than Valmiki Ramayana. In today’s fragmented world of fleeting relationships and cultural confusion, Sri Ramayana becomes not a tale of the past but a mirror reflecting the timeless balance of human duty, love, and faith. Caught in the cycle of birth and death, humanity forever seeks freedom from bondage, desiring peace, purity, and eternal bliss. For such seekers, Sri Ramayana alone reveals the gentle and luminous path toward liberation.  

Even if one reads it merely for leisure, no other book rewards so deeply. Every reading of Valmiki Ramayana leaves the heart fulfilled, with the sense that one’s time was sanctified. For those who read it with faith and devotion, it fulfills desires like a wish-yielding tree (Kalpa Vriksha). Hence, to live in happiness both here (as human beings) and hereafter (after death), the reading of Sri Ramayana is not optional, but it is essential. To read Valmiki Ramayana today is to reclaim a spiritual rhythm long lost in the noise of modern life.

In Bharata Varsha, followers of Shaiva, Vaishnava, and Shakta traditions are in numerous numbers. Though sometimes sectarian differences arise, Vaishnavas showing disinterest in Shiva or Shaivites avoiding Vishnu, there is one divine pair before whom every Aryan bows in reverence: Sri Sita and Sri Rama. What makes them universally worshipped? Why do even truth-bound kings like Harishchandra or virtuous souls like Dharmaraja not receive such adoration? The reason lies in their divine nature that they are incarnations (Avatara) of the Supreme.

Whatever name one calls God by, the essence remains one. It is this realization that unites all devotees in worship of Sri Sita-Rama. In a pluralistic world divided by names and forms, the devotion to Sita-Rama reminds us that divinity transcends religious boundaries. The very word Valmiki Ramayana signifies the divine story of Sri Rama, the human incarnation (Maya Manushavatara) of Lord Narayana or Maha (The Great) Vishnu, and of Sita Devi, the incarnation of Goddess Lakshmi. As the divine couple remain inseparable in spirit and name, so too the sage Valmiki, realizing this truth, gave his epic the title Sri Ramayana.  

Because Valmiki emphasized the greatness of Sita Devi, he himself called it ‘Sithaayas Charitam Mahat’ or ‘the great story of Sita.’ Throughout the text, her grace illuminates every page. While Rama acts outwardly as a man, Valmiki reveals at every stage both implicitly and explicitly the inner truth that, he is none other than the Supreme Being Himself. For today’s readers, it reminds us that strength and compassion, power and humility, masculine, and feminine energies must coexist to preserve balance in life.

The Valmiki Ramayana is a Maha Kavya (The Great Epic), first in its creation and first in its merit. Only Valmiki, the omniscient sage, could have conceived its depth and secrets. The epic portrays innumerable divine virtues and poetic brilliances. Its verses are sweet whether chaunted or read. Some works please the ear when recited but not when read; others read well but lack melody. Valmiki Ramayana belongs to neither single category. It is both melodious and profound. No wonder Kusha and Lava (Sri Rama’s twin sons) sang it before the world with devotion. Even in translation, the music of Valmiki Ramayana continues to echo in the heart of every sincere reader.

The Valmiki Ramayana embraces all nine Rasas (emotional essences). Among them, the Srungara Rasa (Romantic Emotion) shines brightly, especially in the descriptions of Sita and Rama’s life in Ayodhya after marriage. Valmiki’s mastery over words makes every scene alive with tenderness. He weaves laughter in the episodes of Shurpanakha, compassion in Dasharatha’s death, heroism in Lakshmana’s valor, fury in Ravana’s defiance, horror in the Maricha episode, disgust in the scenes of Kabandha and Viradha, wonder in the battles of Lanka, and tranquility in Shabari’s devotion. Each reader finds in Valmiki Ramayana an echo of their own emotions, making it a timeless human document, not just a divine story.

In matters of Alankara (Poetic Ornamentation), Valmiki Ramayana excels in both sound and meaning. While Shabda Alankaras (Figures of Sound) appear sparingly, Artha Alankaras (Figures of Sense) abound. Valmiki’s nature (For instance Raining) descriptions make one feel as though the monsoon rains are falling before our eyes or that we are walking through snow in winter. His vivid imagery makes readers his playthings, leading them wherever he wills. His Upama (similes) are so powerful that even Kalidasa seems his disciple. In a world that often prizes brevity over beauty, Valmiki’s descriptive genius reminds us that true art makes us pause, visualize, and feel.

One of Valmiki’s remarkable techniques is Utpreksha, the creative imagination. Describing a stream flowing down a hill in Lanka’s Ashoka grove, he imagines it as an angry woman descending her lover’s thigh in fury, only to calm and return like a reconciled beloved. Such poetic imagination, along with his use of Shlesha (Quips), shows his unmatched artistry. The very first Shloka of Valmiki Ramayana, ‘Ma Nishada Pratistham Tvamagamahsāsvati Samaa; Yat Kraunchamithunaadekam Avadhi Kaamamohitam’ bears double meanings: one referring to the hunter’s sin and the other symbolizing divine compassion. For modern minds trained in logic and literalness or strict adherence to the precise meaning of words, Valmiki’s layered imagination reawakens the joy of metaphor and mystery.

This first Shloka, born of Valmiki’s anguish upon seeing the slain bird, became the seed of Ramayana itself, the Nandi Shloka (Invocatory Verse). It carries a divine meaning that encapsulates the essence of all seven Kandas in miniature form. Such depth makes Valmiki Ramayana not merely literature but revelation. Perhaps every creative act, when born out of compassion and truth, becomes sacred, that is the enduring message of Valmiki’s first verse.

When Lakshmana bowed to his mother Sumitra before accompanying Rama to the forests, her words of counsel are among the finest examples of wisdom in literature. Scholars have interpreted that single Shloka in three profound ways. In the first, Sumitra tells her son, ‘You were once to Rama as the right hand is to the body, as the breath is to life. Follow him now with that same devotion. Once he was a prince living in royal comfort; now he goes to the forest in hardship. Do not see this exile as suffering, but as service. In joy or sorrow, in palace or forest, regard Rama as your father and Sita as your mother. The forest, my son, is no place of misery, it is Ayodhya itself when your mind is at peace.’

Her words still echo as timeless parenting, teaching that duty, when embraced with love, transforms adversity into grace. In the second interpretation, Sumitra reminds Lakshmana that after Rama’s departure, King Dasharatha would not live long, thus truthfully saying, ‘Know that Rama is indeed your father.’ In the third, she perceives her own end near and speaks of her detachment: ‘Why should I grieve? To serve the divine couple in the forest is a rare blessing. Go, and through devoted service attain Vaikuntha, the realm of Lord Vishnu.’ Such insight makes Sumitra one of the least spoken yet most enlightened figures in Valmiki Ramayana, a mother who knew renunciation and duty were two sides of the same coin.

Every type of poetic embellishment (Alankara) described in Sanskrit poetics finds a place in Valmiki Ramayana. His artistry is incomparable. One notable device is Chitra Alankara, ‘Word Painting.’ After Ravana abducts Sita, Rama wanders in grief, speaking even to trees, rivers, and birds. Seeing a mountain, he laments, ‘O King of Mountains, did your eyes fall upon my beloved Sita whom I lost in this lonely forest?’ The mountain’s echo replies his own words, deepening the tragedy. In a way, Valmiki anticipates modern psychology, our tendency to seek conversation with the universe when the heart is broken.

Every character in the Epic Valmiki Ramayana, speaks with inner consistency, their words mirror their nature. When Kaikeyi tells Bharata about his father’s death, her tone reflects her moral fall: ‘Your father attained the destiny of all beings.’ In contrast, Bharata conveys the same news to Rama with deep sorrow, saying, ‘He breathed his last with your name on his lips.’ The difference shows how speech reveals the soul. In our own age, words too often become masks. Valmiki teaches that words, when pure, become prayers.

When Ravana ordered his general Dhoomraksha to attack the Vanaras, he said, ‘Go, fight Rama and perish.’ Though meant as a command to kill Rama, the words foretold Dhoomraksha’s own death, a poetic irony. Similarly, Ravana’s brother Kumbhakarna, mighty but doomed, speaks with unconscious prophecy that his death will lead to Sita’s restoration and Rama’s victory. Through such ironies, Valmiki reminds us that destiny often hides in our own utterances.

Valmiki never lets a character speak words inconsistent with their essence. He repeatedly declares Rama to be divine, yet portrays him outwardly as human. When Rama says before his coronation, ‘Tomorrow the King shall crown me as prince regent’ he knows within that destiny will soon take him to exile. His words, on the surface, describe ceremony; inwardly, they reveal detachment. Rama’s life becomes a lesson in inner surrender, performing one’s role fully, yet remaining untouched by its outcome.

Those who seek the jewels hidden in Valmiki’s deep-sea, the Great Ocean, must first understand his inimitable style. He rarely narrates, recounts, or describes everything in one place any subject matter connected directly or indirectly to the main story, Sri Ramayana. He hints, he layers, he scatters meanings like seeds across Kandas. Some truths appear only by connection and comparison. Thus, reading Valmiki Ramayana is like walking a sacred jumble, each turn revealing a new insight to the attentive mind.

For instance, in Sundara Kanda, when Sita asks Hanuman about Bharata that, ‘Is Bharata, the son of Kaushalya, well? Has he sent armies to the forest’ readers might wonder how such a question fits the context. But those who read Uttara Kanda know that Bharata constantly sought news of his brothers through messengers, proving Sita’s words natural.
Even small dialogues in Valmiki Ramayana remind us that love transcends distance, true concern travels faster than any messenger.

Valmiki Ramayana is a Dhvani Kavya, a poem of suggestion. Dhvani (resonance) is its soul. Without it, a poem is lifeless. Every Shloka carries layers of implied meaning. In verses describing seasons or nature, moral and spiritual echoes resound. In every Sarga, Valmiki begins and ends with summary verses, ensuring continuity. When rituals, omens, or repeated events appear, earlier Shlokas are often restated, what critics call repetition is in fact poetic precision. For modern readers accustomed to directness, Valmiki’s suggestive art teaches how silence and nuance often speak louder than loud rhetoric. In an age preoccupied with novelty, Valmiki Ramayana teaches that repetition, when sacred, deepens memory and meditation.

Elders interpret the inner meaning of Ramayana characteristically as: ‘the Supreme Being is the only Purusha (Cosmic Male), and all souls are feminine, symbolized by Sita. As long as the soul remains devoted to God, it knows no suffering. When distracted by illusion, for instance in the case of the golden deer, it falls into bondage symbolized by Lanka. Ravana and Kumbhakarna represent ego and attachment. The demons are the senses. Hanuman is wisdom. The reunion of Sita and Rama is the soul’s return to God. Such allegory reminds us that Valmiki Ramayana is not merely a story to be told but a truth to be lived. Each of us is Sita yearning for reunion with the divine Rama within.

When Ravana calls Rama ‘a mere mortal’ he seals his fate; for if he had accepted Rama’s divinity, he would have escaped death. Valmiki likens Rama’s incarnation to an artiste so immersed in his role that he forgets himself. Thus, Ravana perishes by misperception, and Rama triumphs by perfect awareness. How often in life do we, like Ravana, suffer by misreading reality and mistaking the divine for the mundane! When Jatayu dies before revealing all about Sita’s abduction, Valmiki later introduces Sampati to narrate what remained untold. Such narrative weaving shows the poet’s craftsmanship. Rama’s alternating tones, divine in one moment, human the next, illustrate Valmiki’s subtle art. True literature, like life, breathes between divinity and humanity and never only one. Explaining the poetic grandeur of Valmiki Ramayana could fill volumes. Even Kalidasa and Bhavabhuti drew their genius from it.

Their poetic creepers were nourished by Valmiki’s nectar. The philosopher Ramanujacharya read it eighteen times from his guru before writing his commentary. The truly great never begin from emptiness, but they grow upon sacred roots. To call ‘Kalidasa a Great Poet (He is Of course)’ is like ‘Admiring a River and Forgetting the Ocean from which it flows.’ Valmiki is that ocean and ‘Source of all Literary Perennial Rivers.’ Just as later religions evolved by expanding one virtue of the Vedic faith, later poets elaborated one quality each from Valmiki’s vast reservoir. The modern reader, too, may take from Valmiki Ramayana one value, truth, loyalty, or compassion, and live by it; even that single virtue can illumine a lifetime.

A comparison of Kalidasa’s verses with Valmiki’s reveals ‘Disciple and Great Master.’ The celebrated line in Vikramorvashiyam mirrors Valmiki’s description of Rama’s lament for Sita, word for word, save one term. Vyasa himself translated Valmiki’s verses, it is said. What more proof of his primacy is needed? Originality is not defiance of tradition, but it is fidelity with new expression. Valmiki remains the fountainhead of inspired originality.

Whoever aspires to be a true poet must read Valmiki Ramayana repeatedly, with devotion and reflection. It is not only poetry but Dharma Shastra or a ‘True Code of Righteousness.’ It explains every Virtue: Royal, Civic, Marital, Fraternal, Familial, Submissive, and Friendly. Even the ethics of justice and advocacy are embedded in its narrative. Perhaps this is why Valmiki Ramayana endures, and it teaches through stories what laws and sermons often fail to convey. The ideals of kingship are exemplified by Rama and Dasharatha. Ancient rulers never acted without public consent. They governed not for power but for the welfare of people. Taxation without compassion was deemed sin. How relevant this remains for today’s leaders is a million-dollar question mark. Authority divorced from empathy turns governance into tyranny.

A righteous ruler must, through trusted messengers, know his people’s joys and sorrows, and abandon whatever habits displease them. Rama himself, after coronation, asked his spy Bhadran for honest public opinion. On hearing whispers of doubt, he renounced Sita, saying, ‘To preserve pure fame, I sacrifice my own happiness.’ Few in power today would surrender comfort for character. Rama’s example remains a mirror to every generation of rulers. A noble ruler must daily enquire into the welfare of his subjects. When Lakshmana delayed his return, Rama refused to hold court for four days, grieving deeply. This human empathy of Rama transforms kingship into kinship, a leadership ideal that modern democracies can still learn from.

The people, too, reciprocated Rama’s affection. They were ready to accompany him into exile, even to die with him. Despite his greatness, Rama mingled freely with the humble, true Saushilya (gentle nature). His embrace of the boatman Guha speaks volumes. Likewise, he heeded his ministers and valued dissent. True leadership, Valmiki implies, is not command but communion. Understanding Rama’s qualities reveals not only the ideals of kings but the virtues every human should cultivate, namely, truth, compassion, self-control, filial piety, monogamy, brotherly affection, devotion, worship, and daily discipline. In the end, the ideal citizen and the ideal king are one who lives by self-mastery and service.

From Sita, Kausalya, and Sumitra we learn the nobility of virtuous women. From Kaikeyi and Shurpanakha, the pitfalls of passion and pride. Ravana’s downfall stemmed from lust, deceit, lack of wise counsel, and suspicion of truth-tellers. Every fall in history, whether of empires or individuals, begins not from enemies but from ignored advice. Through the actions of Rama and his brothers, Bhatru Dharma (brotherly duty) shines, through Sugriva, Mitra Dharma (friendship), and through Hanuman, Bhrutyu Dharma (service) shines. Sita’s conversations with Anasuya reveal Sati Dharma (wifely devotion). Rama’s speech to Kausalya shows Pitru Bhakti (devotion to father). Each of these relationships teaches modern families that love without duty becomes indulgence, and duty without love becomes burden.

Sugriva’s words, ‘It is easy to gain friends but difficult to keep friendship unbroken’ capture the essence of loyalty. Hanuman’s reasoned speech in Lanka exemplifies the Dharma of advocacy, Janaka’s counsel reveals parental virtue, and Sita’s words show the nature of righteous indignation. The Valmiki Ramayana, in truth, is a University of Human Conduct. All forms of Dharma dwell within Valmiki Ramayana and those found in other scriptures are but reflections. Vyasa expanded many of its seeds into new narratives, such as in Mahabharata. Even the Bhagavad Gita, at its core, is the distilled essence of Valmiki Ramayana. If Gita is philosophy in discourse, Valmiki Ramayana is philosophy in motion, the life made luminous through example.

Valmiki Ramayana is a repository of sacred mantras. Its recitation with proper rituals fulfills desires and removes afflictions. Especially the Sundara Kanda brings success to devotees who chant it with faith. The text itself declares that Valmiki Ramayana embodies the Gayatri Mantra, each thousand verses aligned with one syllable of it, making it a total of 24000 Shlokas. Thus, to read Valmiki Ramayana is not only to learn but to pray through poetry. Because it is divine narrative, Valmiki embedded within it the potency of Bija Aksharas (seed syllables). For instance, Sundara Kanda begins and ends with the syllable TA reflecting Sita’s presence as its presiding deity. The repetition of SA and TA throughout symbolizes SITA, who, in essence, is the sacred syllable OM. For those drawn to meditation and mantra, every sound in Valmiki Ramayana vibrates with spiritual resonance.

Valmiki Ramayana is not merely equal to the Vedas, but it is the Veda itself. Its verses rearrange Vedic Syllables in new harmony, retelling divine truths in poetic form. Hence, recitation of Valmiki Ramayana became part of Vedic Ritual Duties. It reminds us that faith and art are not separate pursuits, and sacred literature unites intellect and devotion. Some say the 24,000 Shlokas of Valmiki Ramayana correspond to the 24 syllables of Gayatri. Each destroys great sins and confers spiritual merit. The text’s hidden structure mirrors the Yajurveda, which Rama himself personifies. Even in numbers and rhythm, Valmiki wove sacred geometry, where mathematics meets mysticism.

From Bala Kanda through Uttara Kanda, the epic parallels the Vedic Sequence, the Yajurveda, Rigveda, Samaveda, and Atharvaveda, and ending in Upanishadic peace. Thus, Valmiki Ramayana is not only narrative but revelation. It shows how ancient Indian thought saw no divide between story and scripture, and in fact, both were pathways to truth. The count of verses, syllables, and stanzas align with Vedic Metrics. Valmiki intentionally used Vedic Idioms, proving that his Ramayana is an echo of eternal sound (Nada Brahma).
Even today, those who chant it experience that same rhythm, connecting heartbeats to cosmic cadence.

Valmiki Ramayana also embodies Sankhya philosophy in numerical symbolism: the name Rama equals seven by syllabic value, meaning, there are seven Kandas, seven days of war, seven chief heroes, seven ritual sections signifying completeness. Seven, the sacred number of balance, represents perfection. Thus, the Valmiki Ramayana mirrors the harmony of creation itself.

The first verse of Bala Kanda numerically sums to 100, equal to the number of verses in that section, reflecting the divine precision of Valmiki’s composition. Vyasa, perhaps recognizing this harmony, named his own work Jaya (18), mirroring the 18 Parvas and 18-day war of Mahabharata. In every sacred number lies a rhythm of the cosmos. Ancient seers wrote not just with ink, but with insight. Sita and Rama’s union and separation comprise the very structure of Valmiki Ramayana. Their names together total 119 in numeric value, equal to the number of Sargas in Ayodhya Kanda. Such hidden correspondences fill the epic. Behind poetry, Valmiki built a cathedral of meaning where language and numbers worship together.

Valmiki Ramayana also explores moral paradoxes: debates over Rama’s monogamy, or his slaying of Vali, are clarified by understanding context and Dharma. Every action of Rama stems from divine purpose, never personal desire. Modern readers must approach it not with judgment but with inquiry, seeing through time-bound ethics to timeless intent. Rama’s discipline, his daily worship, penance, and truthfulness, all makes the Valmiki Ramayana not merely a legend but a living manual of divine life. Reading it today is like cleansing the mind with sacred light, reminding us that spirituality is not retreat but refinement of daily duty.

The greatness of Valmiki’s creation is inexhaustible and its mysteries are endless. Written in Sanskrit, supposed to be the language of gods, it reveals new wonders with every reading. For NRIs and global readers, this English retelling is but an offering, a small lamp lit before the sun of Valmiki’s wisdom. Those devoted to meditation upon the divine will find this English rendering as sacred offering (Prasadam) to the Lord, meant to bridge hearts across time and language. May it help second generation Indians and seekers everywhere rediscover that Valmiki Ramayana is not just India’s heritage, but it is humanity’s inheritance.

Valmiki Ramayana is a mirror of all existence, be it poetic, moral, spiritual, and cosmic. To read it with reverence is to converse with the eternal. Valmiki did not merely compose an epic, but he composed humanity’s conscience. Whoever reads it with faith rediscovers their own higher self, their own Sita and Rama within.

Having journeyed through these brief reflections drawn from Valmiki Ramayana, the reader may please pause now, and see what lingers in the heart. The story that has been just revisited is not history, it is the heartbeat of civilization, the whisper of conscience that endures through ages. Let this book stay by everyone’s side, not merely on a shelf but in the daily life. When circumstances weigh anyone down, opening it at random and reading its verses will lend calmness and courage. When success crowns the effort, read a page again and again, and in the process, it will remind the reader to remain humble and grateful.

Valmiki Ramayana is that rare companion which consoles in sorrow, steadies in strength, and sanctifies in joy. Carrying it in spirit wherever one goes, it guides their thoughts, refine emotions, and deepen their humanity. Then, the purpose of this English rendering for them, their children, and generations yet to come, will be complete, not to replace the original, but to keep its fragrance alive in hearts that beat across oceans and cultures. (PHOTOGRAPHS COURTESY RAMA BHAKTA JOGESH)