The Hero's Death: Jatayu

The old eagle stirred in his sleep. A shrill high sound had slid into his dreams, disturbing the calming images in his mind. The sound returned again, and the eagle's yellow eyes snapped open. A woman was screaming. A woman in the woods, alone? Sita! He sat bolt upright, his old bones protesting. His ancient golden wings spread slowly, creakily, and he began to lift off. As Jatayu flew, he saw a blurry shape in the distance. It was loud and quick-moving--it was a chariot of sorts. The eagle's ancient eyes focused on it, slowly, and he saw a screaming woman, caught by her hair in a demon's claw. The demon...Jatayu knew him, knew his name. It was on the tip of the eagle's tongue, but he had no time to stop and ponder. The woman caught his eye, and her screams grew louder. Jatayu smiled to himself--the woman was covering the sound of his vast wings, letting him get closer before the demon king heard him. She was crafty, this one.

He cleared the dust from his throat and cried, "You! Rakshasa! Let her go!" Jatayu's body had finally warmed up, and he was almost as quick and strong as he'd been when newly hatched. He threw the bulk of his body into the path of the chariot. The ten-headed demon roared as the chariot stopped suddenly. To them, it must have felt like hitting a brick wall--to Jatayu, it felt like being hit with a ton of bricks. His massive size blocked the chariot instantly, but he felt his bones creak dangerously. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his body reminded him: your death will help save the woman. Jatayu shook his head, trying to clear the odd thought from his mind and the thick pain from his body.

"You, demon!" he shouted again. Sita mouthed to him, Ravana, and he thanked her silently. It would not do to challenge a king without being able to remember his name. "You, Ravana! Let her go! You don't know who her husband is, and you don't know what he will do to get her back. Just leave her with me, I'll return her, and her husband might let you live." The demon laughed and shouted back, but Jatayu's hearing was fading. He only caught the word "senile," and that sparked in the old eagle an otherworldly rage. He was old, yes, but not senile. Just older than this demon king could ever imagine. Jatayu stretched his wizened legs, extending and retracting the talons on his feet. "I promise you, Rama will destroy you and everyone you love. You will never have peace again if you take this woman."

The wind shifted, and Jatayu thanked Vayu, the wind god, for it. The demon's reply was easier to hear this time. "Hush, you old buzzard. If this Rama is so great, let me see and fight him. He is no match for me." Ravana's ten mouths smiled rakishly. "And besides that, this little thing is worth a fight or two." One of his myriad hands, entwined in Sita's hair, was joined by another. The second hand slapped Sita's smooth skin, stroked her shapely neck, and dipped obscenely lower. Sita wept and screamed louder, and Jatayu's eyes filled with tears. The demon king laughed and slapped his knee, removing his molesting hand from Sita. The hand tangled in her hair stayed, holding the woman in the chariot. "She will go with me."

Sita wept harder, ashamed and afraid. The eagle shook his shapely ancient head, clearing the tears from his yellow eyes. "Hush, Sita. Don't be afraid. This..." he huffed in disdain, "rakshasa is too proud and vicious for my tastes. I will take care of him." At that last word, Jatayu's stored-up rage and strength exploded into a lightning-fast attack. His enormous wings churned, and their size and strength--plus a little help from Vayu--swirled the air into a whirlwind. The chariot and the demon were caught in the storm, paralyzed by the speed with which Jatayu had worked. While they were frozen, Jatayu swooped toward them, like some enormous ancient boulder hurtling down a mountainside. He struck the front of the chariot, jarring the little cart so strongly that a small servant, the demon's ensign, was thrown toward the ground. Jatayu thrashed his wings and struck out with his talons and his sharp beak, knocking the demon's crowns to the ground.

The wind died down as Jatayu destroyed the little cart, and the demon seized his opportunity. They struggled--Jatayu with his sharp claws and beak against the demon with his swords and spears and arrows; Jatayu with his massive size against the demon with his many hands, each holding a different weapon. They struggled for what seemed like an eternity. Then Jatayu saw something silvery, something different than any other sword he'd ever seen. The demon's eyes, filled with rage, also reflected some sort of pity, and Jatayu screamed as he felt the sword go through him. The pain was so great that he fell out of the sky, which he had never before done in all his millennia of flying. His vision left him as he fell, and he knew that he had no wings. It was strange, to be falling like this and to feel himself dying. His pain ebbed away, and as he landed, he heard a voice like King Dasaratha. Another voice joined Rama's, and Jatayu sighed. "Rama," he whispered, "your wife..."

Jatayu's strong will kept him alive and speaking until he finished his story. "Do not...do not fear," he groaned to the young men. "Dharma will win out in the end." Rama asked him a question, but before the sound reached Jatayu's ears, he heard another voice. It is finished--come home. Jatayu's ancient eyes fluttered shut. His enormous form relaxed, his head drooped to one side, and his spirit left his body.

Image Information: Jatayu Fights Ravana. Web Source: Answers.com.