Shabari's Berries

On the western shore of Lake Pampa stood the ashram of the sage Matanga. The sage and his disciples had left their bodies long before. Yet the ashram was not empty. Its trees were always heavy with fruit, and the garlands the sages had offered never faded. And a very old ascetic woman lived there: Shabari.

Shabari belonged to the Shabar people of the forest. She had come to this ashram in her youth and had served the sages ever since: sweeping the paths, bringing wood, fetching water. When the time came for Matanga to depart, he said to her, "Stay here. One day Ram, the son of Dasharatha, will come to this ashram. Receive him. Seeing him, you will reach the world from which there is no return."

The sage had not named the day. So Shabari treated every day as that day. Each morning she swept the path, strewed flowers, and gathered the best fruit of the forest. By evening the fruit had dried. The next morning she gathered more. In this way her hair turned white and her back bent.

The day

One day two young men in ascetic dress, carrying bows, were seen walking towards the ashram. Shabari knew them at sight. She ran, as fast as that body could run, and fell at the feet of both.

Ram raised her up and asked, "Ascetic lady, does your penance go well? Has your service to your teachers borne fruit?"

Shabari folded her hands. "Today, seeing you, my penance has borne fruit, my birth has borne fruit, and so has my service to my teachers. They left in heavenly chariots when you were at Chitrakoot, and as they went they told me you would come. I have gathered fruit and roots of many kinds for you from the forest by Pampa."

That is all Valmiki says. But in homes across India the story is told in another form, so loved that it feels like the truth. Shabari tasted every berry. Any that was sour she threw away, and any that was sweet she kept for Ram. It never entered her mind that food already tasted is not offered to anyone. And Ram ate those berries with such relish that it seemed he had never been given better food.

The nine forms of devotion

In the Ramcharitmanas, Shabari says shyly, "I am a low-born woman of dull mind. How can I praise you?"

Ram answers: "Listen to me, good lady. I recognise only one relationship, that of devotion. A person may have birth, family, wealth, strength and cleverness, and without devotion he is like a cloud without water." Then he names the nine kinds of devotion:

• First, the company of the good.
• Second, love for hearing my story.
• Third, service of the teacher without pride.
• Fourth, singing my qualities without guile.
• Fifth, repeating my name with firm faith.
• Sixth, self-control, and following the way of good people.
• Seventh, seeing the whole world in me, and honouring the saints even above me.
• Eighth, contentment with whatever comes, and not seeing the faults of others even in a dream.
• Ninth, simple and honest dealing with everyone, and trust in me in every condition.

"Anyone who has even one of these nine is very dear to me. And you have them all."

Farewell

Shabari showed Ram the grove where her teachers had practised austerity, the altar where they had offered flowers with trembling hands, and the garlands that were still fresh. Then she heard about Sita and said, "Go to Lake Pampa. There you will make friends with Sugriva. He will tell you everything."

Then Shabari said, "I have seen what I was waiting to see. With your leave, I will go where my teachers have gone." Ram said, "Go, and go in peace." Shabari entered the fire and rose upward in a shining form.

Shabari had no family name, no learning, and no certainty of when the day would come. She had only her waiting, and a path swept every morning. The Ramayana says that was enough.

Here the Aranya Kanda ends. Ram and Lakshmana went on towards Lake Pampa, where someone on Mount Rishyamuka was watching them.