Elevation

My four year old son asked to hear the story of Visvamitra and Vasistha. I reached for a copy of the Ramayana.  He checked me and said "I don't want you to read it, I want you to tell me by talking."  How could I argue?

Listen Billy:

Long before the birth of Rama, Visvamitra was of the kshatriya caste, a warrior king. We know him now as a Brahmin.  Caste is not decided by birth, rather by a person's fundamental nature.  It is possible to elevate one's self, as Visvamitra did, but it is not easy.

During a tour of his kingdom, Visvamitra visited the hermitage of Vasistha. He was not yet the royal priest of Ayodhya, yet his spiritual power was well known even then.  Upon Visvamitra's arrival, Vasistha sought to provide the welcome and hospitality befitting a visit from the king. Visvamitra appreciated the gesture, however, he did not want to disturb the ashram, insisting Vasistha's desire to perform service more than fulfilled any obligation as a host.

Vasistha was not to be deterred. He reminded Visvamitra that the host who does not feed his guest is destined to dine on his own flesh in the next life.To avoid upsetting the Brahamana, Visvamitra accepted the invitation to dinner.

Vasistha called upon his cow of plenty, Sabala. The cow produced the finest foods of every variety, which was offered first to Visvamitra then to his entire entourage of thousands. Visvamitra was amazed by the power of this cow and became overcome with the desire to possess her.

"Brahmana, I will give you 100,000 of my finest cattle, along with all of the attendants necessary to care for them, in return for this one animal."

"Dear king, I appreciate your gift, but I cannot part with this cow.  This wonderful animal has assisted me with the performance of many rites which have benefited the entire world. Without her, I will not be able to continue my bound duty to serve and protect creation."

"Brahmana, as a King, the scriptures state that I should be offered the finest of everything.  It is your duty living in my kingdom to give me what I ask for."

Vasistha could not argue.  Visvamitra spoke the truth.  Although saddened, he relented and Visvamitra took possession of Sabala.

Sabala broke free and ran to Vasistha. "What wrong did I commit that you so easily send me away? How have I not served you correctly?" she asked with tears in her eyes.

"Dear Sabala, you have done no wrong.  It is a king's duty to take what he desires, using any force necessary."

"My master, it is said that a Brahmin's spiritual strength eclipses the physical and martial strength of a king."

 "I am required to exercise forgiveness and non-violence."

"All you need to do is to order me to stay, and the King will not be able to move me."

"Stay!"

At Vasistha's word an army of thousands sprang from Sabala instantly subduing Visvamitra's party.

Visvamitra became entranced witnessing Vasistha's power.  He resolved to gain that power for himself and set upon severe ascetic practices as a means of pleasing Shiva and receiving a boon.

Through years of practice, Visvamitra mastered difficult asanas and succeeded in restraining the flow of breath for hours at a time all while focusing his thoughts on Shiva. Pleased, the god appeared before him and offered a boon.

"Great Lord, as a King I am skilled in the art of human warfare.  But I have no knowledge of the weapons used by the gods.  Grant me this knowledge."

"So be it," declared Shiva.  Instantly Visvamitra understood the weapons of the gods, knew the mantras to call them, and possessed the skill to wield them. Feeling unstoppable, he returned to Vasistha, convinced victory was already his.

Standing outside Vasistha's ashram, Visvamitra called: "Oh great Vasistha, you had bested me previously.  Through severe penance, I have become more powerful than you.  Feel my revenge."

Vasistha observed Visvamitra from the entrance to his cottage in silence, leaning on his staff.  Visvamitra called upon all of the divine weapons. The sky darkened. Visvamitra blazed like a thousand suns and all manner of arrows, maces, spears, lightening, and countless other forms of weapons sped toward Vasistha. There was a blaze as the weapons found there mark.

Then nothing happened.  Vasistha stood as before, having absorbed and dissipated all of the divine weapons.  "Great king, I bow in respect to you and the austerities you have performed.  I reject the gift of violence you have sought to bestow upon me." Vasistha returned to his ashram.

Once again Visvamitra stood in awe of the Brahmin's power.  He resolved to increase his austerities. He traveled to the Himalays and spent the entire winter submerged to his neck in an icy lake.  In the summer, he traveled to the south, passing the hottest part of the year naked in the blazing sun surrounded by bonfires.  For hundreds of years he stood on one foot, with arms upraised, chanting the names of Shiva.  Through these severe ascetic practices, his spiritual power increased.

During this time, Vasistha was appointed as the royal priest of Ayodhya by King Trishanku, a distant relative of Lord Rama. Toward the end of his reign, King Trishanku came to desire to enter heaven while in possession of his body.  He asked Vasistha to perform the necessary rites.  Vasistha replied that this is forbidden by scripture.  It is the immortal, undying soul which unifies back with the Divine, not the limited, finite vehicle of the body.

Upset that his priest would not help, he sought out Visvamitra, whose intense practice was by now well known.  The king also knew of the rivalry between the two and used this to his advantage to convince Visvamitra to perform the necessary rites.

Visvamitra  conducted the sacrifice.  King Trishanku began to rise and ascend toward Heaven.  Indra, King of Heaven, observed the fleshy body of the King approaching. Offended by the king's attempt to enter Heaven in the flesh, Indra send the king back to Earth.

Visvamitra became enraged.  If the gods would not let the king enter their Heaven, he would create one of his own.  Visvamitra exercised all of his spiritual power to bring forth a new Heaven and installed Trishanku as king of both the Earth and the new realm.

The gods quickly realized that the creation of this new Heaven disrupted the balance of the created universe.  Indra went to Visvamitra and begged him to stop.  In a moment of clarity, Visvamitra realized that his pride and anger got the better of him.  He asked Indra how he could still honor his promise to Trishanku.  Indra shrunk the new Heaven and placed it in the Southern sky.  There Trishanku still enjoys the bliss of final unification, while the rest of creation remains in balance.

Realizing his error, Visvamitra again adopted a severe ascetic practice.  This time he sat if silent meditation.  Hundreds of years went by and his power grew.  The gods, worried that he would once again use his power to destroy the universe, set out to divert him from his efforts.  The sent the Apsara (a nymph) Menaka to him.  Menaka bathed in a lake near Visvamita's meditative seat. Hearing the tinkling of her ankle bells, Visvamitra opened his eyes.  He became entranced, and they sported together.

One hundred years passed in the blink of an eye.  Visvamitra realized that he had fallen victim to his lust, thereby expending his spiritual merit.  He sent Menaka away and re-doubled his efforts.  Again the gods sent another Apsara, Rambha, to seduce him.  Upon sensing Rambha's presence, Visvamitra glanced at her and turned her to stone. Realizing that he was overcome by anger, he resolved to completely control his senses.

Another thousand years passed.  Visvamitra's storehouse of spiritual merit grew and eclipsed that of many of the lesser gods.  Brahma, fearing that Visvamitra's penance would disrupt the balance of the universe again, appeared before Visvamitra and granted him the status of Brahmin.  Brahma then went before Vasistha and requested that he personally visit Visvamitra and welcome him as an equal.  Vasistha did just that, and the two formed a strong friendship.

We are reminded of this story through the asanas dedicated to the two sages.  Visvamitrasana and Vasisthasana are similar, but the former is more difficult than the latter because Visvamitra had to endure severe penance to become a Brahmin, whereas Vasistha was born a Brahmin.

Vasisthtasana (lt) and Visvamitrasana (rt) by Sri Dharma Mittra. Photos publicly available on http://www.dharmayogacenter.com

Sages (I): Agastya

Stories of Saints are wound through the Ramayana. They teach us lessons, sometimes through direct revelation to the characters themselves, sometimes as examples of how to act.  They are considered to have actually existed (and the events in the Ramayana are considered to have actually taken place 80 Kalpas [80,000,000 years] ago). I cannot say that I favor one story over another, so for no other reason than this is the first one I am writing, I give you the story of Agastya Rishi.

Once upon a time, in India…well above India, atop Mount Kailash, Lord Shiva prepared to give a discourse on the Holy Vedas.  Gods, celestial beings, rakshasas, and sages made a pilgrimage to Mount Kailash for the opportunity to learn directly from Shiva himself. Since this gathering was to take place on an Earthly realm, Earthly physics and metaphysics became an issue. The combined weight of the spiritual merit  possessed by the attendees pushed the Earth off balance. To avoid disrupting the Earthly realm, Lord Shiva asked the Rishi Agastya, who carried within himself more power and merit than the whole assembly combined, to travel southward in order to re-balance the Earth. Lord Shiva sought to compensate Agastya for this service, and for missing his teaching. Shiva decreed that while residing in the South, Agastya will have the opportunity to directly serve Vishnu in his human incarnation as Rama. This service would once again bring balance to the world and save the human race from destruction.

Agastya agreed without question.

As he traveled southward, Agastya was stopped by Surya, the sun.  Surya begged Agastya for help.  Vindhya Hill, jealous of Mount Meru, the center of the universe in the Himalaya, decided to grow larger and more magnificent than its cousin. Vindhya grew to an enormous size, dwarfing Meru and blocking the path of the sun. Vindhya’s ego grew in proportion to its physical size.  He demanded that the sun revolve around him rather than revolving around Meru.  The sun refused.  Vindhya would not let Surya pass, plunging everything West of the mountain into perpetual night.

Agastya agreed without question.

Agastya came to Vindhya mountain.  The mountain was indeed impressive.  Sheer cliffs rose above the clouds and extended into the horizon.  There was no way around. 

Standing in front of the mountain with palms folded, Agastya addressed Vindhya with reverence.

“Oh mighty Vindhya, I am blessed to be in your presence. Your size and grandeur make even the mighty Himalaya appear as small and as uninteresting as a mere pebble.  I have been sent by Lord Shiva himself to travel South. I must obey the Lord, but due to your enormous size, I am unable to continue my journey. Indeed, how can a poor traveler traverse your great self when even the sun cannot pass.Please allow me passage so that I may keep my promise to the Lord.”

Vindhya could see Agastya blazing with spiritual merit and knew he spoke the truth.  Out of respect for Agastya and his mission, the mountain returned to its normal size. It spoke to Agastya:

“Great sage, I gladly allow you passage so that you may continue to do the Lord’s work.”

“I give you thanks.  Please remain this size so that I may return to the Lord when my mission has been completed.”

“So be it,” replied the mountain.

Agastya continued his journey southward. He did not return to the North, and to this day Vindhya remains bowed, awaiting Agastya's return.

In the South, Agastya came to a forest which was plagued by two rakshasa brothers, Ilval and Vapti, who were systematically killing every Brahmin (holy man).  Their method was always the same:  Ilval took the form of a Brahmin.  He approached other Brahmins, speaking in holy Sanskrit, and offer to cook a meal. The Brahmins could not refuse—it is against scripture to refuse an offering.  At Ilval’s cottage, he would cook a freshly slaughtered ram (Brahmins were not yet forbidden from eating meat at this time), who was actually Vapti in disguise.  Once the Brahmin finished his meal, Ilval called to his brother: “Vapti come out!” Resuming his natural form, Vapti tore his way out of the Brahmin, killing him.

Vapti approached Agastya with his usual ruse.  Having accepted the offer of a meal, Agastya quickly cleaned his plate. He asked for seconds, and upon finishing that plate, asked for thirds. He kept eating until nothing was left of the ram save the bones. Agastya wiped his mouth after finishing the last morsel. Ilval grinned and shouted “Vapti come out!”

Nothing happened.

He called again: “Vapti, come out!”

“Beware the strong stomach of Dharma,” said Agastaya, and he burped.

Enraged, Ilval assumed his rakshasa form and lunged at Agastya.  The sage slightly glanced at Ilval. The rakshasa burst into flames and was reduced to ashes. 

-------

After leaving Chitrakuta, Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana traveled southward. They were directed to visit Agastya’s hermitage near modern day Nashik. The sage, understanding Rama’s true identity, welcomed the trio and prepared a feast stating “The host who does not feed his guests is destined to eat his own flesh in the next life.”  Rama sought the sage’s counsel on how to lead the life of a Brahmin.  Rama was a Kshatriya, a warrior king.  He was honoring his promise to his father to live in the forest for 14 years, yet he did not quite know how to live the life of the Brahmin class.

Agastya replied: “The duty of a Brahmin is the search for Truth.  The search for Truth is nothing more than the search for the Self. Know yourself and you have found Truth.  You already possess this knowledge, you have only forgotten it.  I cannot teach you how to find it, but I can give you the tools to find it for yourself.”  Agastya presented Rama with a bow and an inexhaustible quiver, and to Lakshmana he presented a sword.  Both weapons had been used by Vishnu in a previous battle with the rakshasas.  Tools used by warrior kings, not Brahmins.

“Perform your duty and you will find Truth.”

------
Rama engaged Ravana in battle on the Island of Lanka.  Rama's arrows quickly cut down Ravana's 10 heads and 20 arms. Victory was short-lived, as the heads and arms immediately grew back.  Rama's arrows continued to be true.  Arms and heads off.  Arms and heads grew back.  This fierce play repeated until both sides retired (war, although still brutal, observed strict rules 80,000,000 million years ago when this story took place).

The next morning, Rama awoke and conducted his obeisances.  Agastya appeared before Rama as he engaged in prayer.

"Rama, know that Ravana's heads and arms are extensions of his ego and greed, both of which are limitless. They cannot be defeated by brute force. The only way to conquer the darkness of ego and greed, which live in and cloud the heart, is through the light of Truth. Repeat this mantra to call upon the infinite light of the sun:

Aaditya hridaayam punyamsarva shaatru binaashanam

[For the one who keeps the Sun in the Heart, all enemies are destroyed.]

Endow your arrow with the Brahmastra, take aim at Ravana's heart of darkness, and free him from the chains of ego and greed."
-----
Agastya's words proved true.  Ravana was defeated. Dying a warrior's death with his thoughts fully fixed on Rama, Ravana attained the highest reaches of Heaven. Brahma's boon that Ravana could not be killed by any god or celestial being held true--although not quite as he had expected.  Ravana's earthly form was destroyed, but not his spirit, which is infinite and pure.

The Beginning of It All

Rama and Ravana from Sanjay Patel's Ramayana: The Divine Loophole

Listen friend:

Once upon a time, in India, there was a great war between the devas (gods) and the rakshasas (demons). The devas prayed to Vishnu, who answered their prayers and entered the fray.  The rakshasas fled Vishnu's wrath and hid in the underworld. All but Sumali.  During his wanderings on earth, he saw Kuvera, the god of wealth, flying in Pushpaka, the chariot-city.  Sumali became jealous of Kuvera. He felt that Kuvera flaunted his wealth, while the rakshasas lived a life of poverty under the Earth.

Sumali came up with a plan--he sent his daughter, Kaikasi, to seduce Kuvera's father, the sage Visrava, so that there may be a raksasa born with the same wealth as Kuvera.

Kaikasi approached Visrava with her request to become his wife.  Visrava granted this request, but since she came to him at an inauspicious time, he proclaimed that the products of their union would be hideous, cruel, flesh-eating night walkers.  Kaikasi begged for mercy.  Visrava, in his kindness, granted that although still a rakshasa, one of the children would be devoted to Dharma, and uphold religious standards.

Some time later, four children were born: Dasagriva, black as coal with ten heads and twenty arms; Kumbhakarna, who rapidly grew into a giant with a giant appetite for flesh; Surpanakha, lustful, cruel, vengeful; and Vibishana, the good demon, always focused on righteousness.

One day Kaikasi played with Dasagriva and his step-brother Kuvera flew overhead in Pushpaka chariot. Kaikasi said "See your brother, how he shows his wealth?  Obtain riches so that you can be like him."

Dasagriva resolved to have more wealth than his brother.  He began a life of strict asceticism: praying, doing penance, reciting mantra for hundreds of years.

Nothing happened.

He resolved to perform harsher penance, cutting off one of his own heads for every 1000 years the gods did not listen to him.

Every 1000 years for 9000 years Dasagriva cut off one of his heads and offered it to the the sacrificial fire. At the end of his 10,000th year of meditation, he prepared to cut off his final head.

Brahma appeared before him and held his sword.

"Your intense single-pointed focus has gained my attention, and I cannot bear the violence you commit against your own body. Ask for a boon and it shall be yours."

Dasagriva needed no time to think.  The boon he would ask for occupied his entire focus for 9000 years:
"No god or celestial being shall be able to kill me."

"It is so," declared Brahma.  "Your brothers have also earned great merit through their co-penance. Ask me for a boon."

Before Kumbakarna, the giant, could speak, the goddess of speech, Saraswati, entered his mouth and spoke for him: "I hate this wretched world.  Let me sleep for 6 months for every day that I am awake."

"It is so," granted Brahma.  Kumbakarna immediately fell asleep.  Saraswati's trick saved all of the living beings in the world from ending up in Kumbakarna's belly.

Brahma turned to Vibishana, the good demon.

"Grandfather, may I always remember the Lord and uphold Dharma."

"It is so."

With Brahma's book, Dasagriva took himself to be invincible. His ten heads held ten inflated egos, and he went on a rampage subjugating all of the gods who were now powerless against him.  The rakshasas, no longer afraid of the gods, returned from the underworld and fought at Dasagriva's side.  Fearless, the night-walkers gorged themselves on flesh.

Dasagriva and his demon army attacked Indra and the gods in the heavens.  With Brahma's boon as his shield and terrible weapons in his twenty hands, Dasagriva easily defeated the gods. For all of the slaughter and cruelty he committed, Dasagriva earned the name Ravana, "He who makes the universe scream."


Satisfied that he now ruled heaven and Earth, Ravana set out to conquer the realm of Death and even Shiva himself.

But that tale is for another night.

(Adapted with devotion and love from William Buck's, Krishna Dharma's, and Sanjay Patel's retellings of Valmiki's Ramayana)

I Can Do That! Hanuman Jayanthi 2013

From Sanjay Patel's Ramayana: Divine Loophole. Chronicle  2010
Buy and read this beautiful book!

Happy Birthday to Hanuman, the white monkey, son of the god of the Wind, the 11th incarnation of Shiva, the breath of Rama.

Seriously, you have to love a tradition that places such reverence upon a flying monkey--they know how to do worship right!

Hanuman appears in The Ramayana as an exemplar of how a devotee should act.  All of his actions are done in faith and service of the Lord.  As a divine being, when young, Hanuman used his powers to annoy some meditating sages (he was a good little monkey, but always very curious...). So they placed a curse on him that he would not remember his powers until someone reminded him.

Even without his powers, he still acted in faith.  When reminded, nothing was impossible for him. Jump across the ocean (twice)?  No problem.  Carry a mountain in the palm of his hand?  I'll take two, they are small.  But this was all done in service, never to egotistically display his power.

When Rama asked "How did you cross the ocean?" Hanuman did not say "I'm the son of the wind, I am powerful!"  No.  He only said "By the power of Your name alone was I able to cross the ocean."

Hanuman as the embodiment of faith is very dear to me because I have very little faith.  I say "Goddamn" often, very rarely "God Bless." I am not often accused of looking on the bright side of things.

Over the last few years, reciting the Hanuman Chalisa has become the most important part of my practice.  The Chalisa is a recent prayer to Hanuman written in +/- the mid 1500's ("recent" being a relative term, when one thinks in terms of millions of lifetimes, 600 years is but a drop in the bucket).  The poem is meant to remind Hanuman of his powers, so that he can never forget.  It concludes by asking Hanuman (and the faith he represents) to dwell in our heart.

I don't say the Chalisa to praise Hanuman.  What does a divine being need praise from me for?  I say it as a reminder to myself.  If Hanuman can do the impossible, through faith alone, then I can remind myself the I can do that too.

Even if for only 7 minutes twice a day when I am saying the Chalisa the world does not feel so heavy, the swine aren't closing in, I'm not saying "Goddamn," then that is 14 more minutes of peace in my day I did not have before I learned this poem.

Having an ideal to work towards, even with a long, long, long way to go to reach it, gives me the strength to make it through.

Want to learn more about Hanuman?  Have a listen to these two songs by MC Yogi, and you will find your self saying "God bless that monkey he made my day, God bless everybody, peace and namaste" right along with me.

For Ramnavami 2013: How Poetry Came to the World

Sri Ram Jai Ram Jai Jai Ram

On Saturday, April 20^th, 2013 the birthday of Lord Rama is celebrated as the festival Ramnavami.  In the past, I have presented some stories about Rama and summarized the epic tale of his life, The Ramayana. Today I would like to spin a yarn about how this epic came to be.  It is the story of how the gift of poetry was given to humanity.

So with great reverence to Valmiki, William Buck (who wrote my  favorite retelling of the story), and the spirit of the tale, my version of how poetry came to the world:

Once upon a time, in India…

There lived a lowly thief, a highwayman, named Ratnakara.  I guess with a name like ‘Ratnakara’ your career options are pretty limited; certainly does not sound like the name of a pillar of the community.  One day he spied a lone traveler walking down the road.  Thinking this was easy pickings, Ratnakara stopped the traveler and demanded all his money and possessions.

Unbeknownst to Ratnakara, the traveler was the divine sage Narada. Narada was not scared or surprised by Ratnakara’s threats, nor did he respond in his usual manner (Narada reportedly was, shall we politely say, um, someone who makes Gordon Ramsey look like the world’s best boss).  Instead, he said very kindly to the thief:

“I have the power to give you anything that you want.  I can make plants bloom in winter and lakes freeze in summer. I can turn the sky green and the grass blue. Indeed the gods themselves jump to do my bidding when I am happy and hide in fear when I am angry.  Creating piles of wealth is a simple parlor trick for me. But first you must answer for me two questions.  Tell me, why is it you steal?”

Ratnakara’s bravado had disappeared. He stood hypnotized before the sage. “I steal to provide for my family,” he mumbled.

“Will your family accept their share of all the negative merit you have accrued from this life of crime?  If so, I will turn this very ground into gold for you.”

“I don’t know,” stammered Ratankara.

“Well go ask them.  I will wait right here.”

Without any conscious thought about his actions, Ratnakara walked to his home. Upon opening the door he was greeted by his family “Father, husband, have you brought us food?”

Ratnakara surveyed his wife and children. “I have been taking from others to provide for you. Will you accept the punishments I will receive in this life and the next for stealing?”

“Oh father, do not tease us with this philosophical talk. We do not care about the next life, we are hungry now. Give us food now!”

Ratnakara stood once again before Narada.  He fell at the sage’s feet.

“They do not care.  They only want for themselves.  They do not care what happens in the future.”  Ratnakara sobbed. “Oh glorious sage, teach me how to break from this life of theft and violence.  I am you pupil!”

“Well said, my son. Salvation is only one word away.  That word is ‘death.’ Meditate on that one word alone and you will be saved.”

“Death death death…” Ratnakara mumbled.  He sat up and focused his entire mind on repeating that one word.  “Death death death….” Ratnakara became still. The world disappeared.  The one thing that remained was the word “death.”  He became so still that the ants on the ground beneath him thought he was just another rock and they built their anthill (valmiki in Sanskrit) over the top of him.

Here is where English fails us.  Not just because of my horrible grasp of the language, but because of the perfection of the Sanskrit and the imperfection of English.  I mentioned that the word for death is mara, which is composed of two syllables, ma (म) and ra (रा). When it is said over and over, you get:

ma ra ma ra ma ra ma ra ma ra ma ra ma ra ma….

 म रा म रा म रा म रा म रा म रा म रा म रा म रा 

               

Go ahead, say it out loud.

                By shifting the focus slightly (and the stress—our habits in English cause us to stress the first syllable, but Sanskrit does not have this problem), you get:

ra ma ra ma ra ma ra ma ra ma ra ma ra ma ra ma…

रा म रा म रा म रा म रा म रा म रा म रा म रा म रा म

The word for “death” (mara) is really nothing more than the name of an incarnation of the Divine (Rama).  Our good friend Narada knew that he could never convince such a corrupt individual to say the name of the Divine, so he gave him a focal point that was much more applicable. Narada also knew that the name of the Divine, said correctly or incorrectly, knowingly or unknowingly, with feeling or without feeling, will give the correct result. Through billions and billions of repetitions, the one-time scoundrel purified his soul.

Some time later (years, eons, lifetimes, who can say?) Narada whispered into Ratnakara’s ear that it was time to wake up.  Regaining his consciousness, he emerged  from the anthill cocoon. What had been a deserted back road had transformed to a hermitage.  The power of the repetition of the divine name Rama sanctified the area.  The person who was the criminal Ratnakara rejoined the world as the sage Valmiki.

Valmiki went to the river to wash the dust and ants from himself.  He began splashing water on himself when he became distracted by the beautiful mating song of two birds on a nearby tree.  As he watched and listened, a hunter’s arrow pierced and killed the male bird.  His mate’s song instantly turned from one of joy to one of lament.  Valmiki saw the hunter emerge from the bushes.  Without any though, Valmiki uttered a curse upon the hunter.  

मां निषाद प्रतिष्ठां त्वमगमः शाश्वतीः समाः। यत्क्रौंचमिथुनादेकम् अवधीः काममोहितम्॥'

mā niṣāda pratiṣṭhāṁ tvamagamaḥ śāśvatīḥ samāḥ

yat krauñcamithunādekam avadhīḥ kāmamohitam(1)

You will find no rest for the long years of Eternity

For you killed a bird in love and unsuspecting(2)

( 1 Sacred-Texts.com IAST encoded transliteration modified from original source to accurately reflect sandhi rules.

2 Buck, William and van Nooten, B. A. Ramayana. 2000, page 7)

 The curse came out in perfect metered verse.  It was the first time language had been spoken in this way by a man.

The hunter’s heart immediately exploded.

Valmiki contemplated what he had done.  Brahma, the god of creation, saw the whole thing. He appeared before Valmiki.

“Valmiki, you have work to do.  You have uttered the first poetry of man.  You will use this gift to give mankind the story of Lord Rama, whose exiled wife, the sinless Sita, now approaches the hermitage.  I give you the gift of divine sight.  Every aspect of Rama’s life, past, present, and future will be revealed to you as if you were there.  Look—“ he motioned to the water cupped in Valmiki’s hands.

In that water Valmiki saw the comings and goings of Rama.  In his mind the story was expressed in verse, and the world’s first epic poem was composed.