Ravana's Last Teaching - Words to Lakshmana

Ravana: "The arrow has struck true. I am dying."

Ravana lay on the battlefield, his ten heads finally still. Rama stood at a distance, giving his enemy privacy in death. But Lakshmana approached.

Ravana: "You wish to gloat?"

Ravana's voice was weak but clear.

Lakshmana: "I wish to learn. You were the greatest scholar of the age. The master of all Vedas. If you have wisdom to share before you go—"

Ravana: "Wisdom from a demon? Your brother would disapprove."

Lakshmana: "My brother told me to come. He said: 'Even enemies can be teachers. Especially dying ones.'"

Ravana laughed—a painful, bloody sound.

Ravana: "Rama is smarter than I gave him credit for. Very well. What do you wish to know?"

Lakshmana: "How to rule. How to govern. How to avoid your mistakes."

Ravana: "My mistakes. Where to begin? I'll give you three lessons, boy. Three things I learned too late."

Lakshmana: "I'm listening."

Ravana: "First: never postpone good deeds. I meant to return Sita. Every day I told myself 'tomorrow.' Tomorrow I'll be magnanimous. Tomorrow I'll correct my error. Tomorrow became never, and never became this. Whatever good you intend—do it now. Tomorrow is a lie we tell ourselves."

Lakshmana: "And the second?"

Ravana: "Control your desires before they control you. I wanted Sita not because I loved her—I had a thousand wives more beautiful. I wanted her because I couldn't have her. Because wanting became obsession, and obsession became identity. By the end, I couldn't return her because returning her meant admitting I was wrong. My desire had become my cage."

Lakshmana: "And the third?"

Ravana: "Never underestimate your enemy. I thought Rama was a man—limited, mortal, bound by human weakness. I was so busy cataloging his constraints that I missed his strengths. He crossed an ocean, Lakshmana. He built a bridge with monkeys. He did the impossible because I told myself it was impossible. My certainty was his advantage."

Lakshmana was silent, absorbing.

Ravana: "One more thing. Unprompted. Your brother is an avatar. A god in human form. But he will face tests even gods struggle with. Stand by him. Not because he needs you—he doesn't. Stand by him because even gods need witnesses. Someone to remember them as they were before the legends simplified them."

Lakshmana: "I will."

Ravana: "Good. Now leave me to die. I have prayers to say and sins to account for. The journey to Yama's court is long, and I have much explaining to do."

Lakshmana: "Will you find peace?"

Ravana: "I will find justice. Which is different. Peace is for the innocent. Justice is for those of us who chose our fates. I chose mine. I accept its consequences."

Lakshmana rose and returned to Rama.

RAMA: "What did he say?"

Rama asked.

Lakshmana: "Wisdom. Surprising wisdom. He was a better teacher than villain, I think."

RAMA: "Most villains are. They understand their mistakes in ways the righteous never can. Remember his lessons. They were bought with a kingdom's worth of suffering."

Lakshmana: "I will remember."

And he did. For the rest of his life, Lakshmana remembered the dying demon's words.

Don't postpone good deeds.

Don't let desire become identity.

Don't underestimate anyone.

The best advice he ever received—from the worst person he ever knew.