I Am Ramtha (chapter 2)

In this post from chapter 2 of "Ramtha: The White Book", Ramtha presents his own life story.

I am Ramtha, the Ram. In the ancient language of my times it means "the God." I am the great Ram of the Hindu people, for I was the first man born of the womb of woman and the loins of man who ever ascended from this plane.

The only "great Ram of the Hindu people" that I was aware of was Ram from the Hindu epic the Ramayana. However, upon reading further it became clear that Ram, the prince of Ayodhya, bore no resemblance to Ramtha the pauper.

I did not blame the Unknown God for his inability to love me. I did not blame him for not loving my people. I did not blame him for the death of my mother and my little sister. I did not blame him; I hated him.

I had no one left, for my brother was kidnapped by a satrap and taken into subserviency into the land that would later be called Persia. There he was abused for the pleasure of the satrap and his need for what is called loin gratification.

I was a lad of fourteen with no meat upon my bones and a great bitterness inside me. So I decided to do battle with the Unknown God of my forefathers, the only thing I felt worthy of dying by. I was determined to die, but as an honorable man. And I felt that dying at the hands of man was a dishonorable way to perish.

I saw a great mountain, a very mysterious place that loomed on the distant horizon. I thought that if there were a God, he would live there, above us all, just as those who governed our land lived above us. If I could climb there, I thought, I would get in touch with the Unknown God and proclaim my hatred for him at his unfairness to humanity.

I left my hovel and journeyed for many days to reach this great mountain, devouring locusts and ants and roots along the way. When I reached the mount I climbed into the clouds, which now veiled its whitened peak, in order to do battle with the Unknown God. I called out to him, "I am a man. Why have I not the dignity of one?" And I demanded that he show me his face, but he ignored me.

I fell upon my haunches and wept heartily, until the whiteness iced itself from my tears. When I looked up, I beheld what seemed to be a wondrous woman holding a great sword before me. She spoke to me saying, "0 Ram, 0 Ram, you who are broken in Spirit, your prayers have been heard. Take this sword and conquer yourself." And in but a blink of my eye she was gone.

Conquer myself? I could not turn the blade around and hack off my own head; my arms would not reach the hilt of the sword. Yet I found honor in this great sword. No longer did I shiver against the great cold but found warmth instead. And when I looked again where my tears had fallen, there grew a flower of such sweet aroma and color that I knew the flower was of hope.

I came down from the mountain with the great sword in my hand, a day which was recorded in the history of the Hindu people as the terrible day of the Ram. A boy had gone to that mountain, but a man returned. No longer frail or weak of bodily movement, I was a Ram in every sense of the word. I was a young man with a terrible light about me and a sword that was larger than I was. Sometimes I think I was very slow to understand in that existence, for I never fully realized why the wondrous sword was so light that I could carry it, yet it was so large that nine hands together could hold the hilt of it.

I returned from the mountain to the city of Onai. In the fields outside the city I saw an old woman stand up and shade her eyes to look at me a'coming. Soon all stopped their labors. Carts stopped. Donkeys squealed. Everything became quiet. When the people ran up to look upon my countenance, they must have been persuaded because everyone of them took up his meager tool and followed me into the city.

We destroyed Onai because the Atlatians spat in my eye when I demanded they open the granaries to feed our people. So unprepared were the Atlatians for this that they were easily overtaken, for they did not know of battle.

I opened the granaries to our poor people, and then we burned Onai to the ground. It never occurred to me that I couldn't do that, for I did not care if I lived or died at that point; I had nothing left to live for.

When the slaughter and burning were finished, a great hurt was still within my being, for my hatred had not been satisfied. So I ran from the people to hide in the hills, but they followed me in spite of all my cursing and throwing stones and spitting at them.

"Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram," they chanted, carrying their tools of the field and grain tied in linens, and herding sheep and goats before them. I shouted at the people to leave me alone and go home. But still they came, for they no longer had a home. I was their home.

Ramtha goes on to describe how he eventually conquered three-quarters of the known world. That is certainly significant, but if he isn't Ram of the Ramayana, then who is he? I know there are 10 avatars (Dashavatara) that are talked about in the scriptures, and upon looking through the list I discovered another Ram: Parashurama which translates to "Ram with the Axe" and sure enough, after performing a penance to receive his axe/sword, Ram went on a rampage and killed every Kshatriya on earth thereby conquering the known world.

Parashurama is also one of the seven immortals (Chiranjivi) who will remain on earth during the entire Kali Yuga until Satya Yuga begins (in 2030).