“Hey, Kevat, get ready with your boat. You must ferry my dear friend, his wife, and his brother across the Ganga,” called out the tribal king Guha.
The boatman Kevat waited quietly until the passengers were close to the boat. Then, in a loud voice, looking straight at Rama, he shouted:
“Stop! I will not let you enter the boat unless you agree to my condition!”
“What do you want?” came the calm query.
“I will let you to step into the boat only after I’ve washed your feet and completely removed all the dust sticking to them!”
“Why this strange condition?”
“Well, I’ve heard weird stories about you, and now, I’m worried for my well-being. They say that when the dust of your feet fell on a stone, that stone turned into a woman called Ahalya! How do I know that the same dust will not turn my boat into another woman? I can’t take this risk, I’m a poor man and already finding it difficult to make ends meet – I don’t have the means to provide for another mouth!”
Lakshmana frowned in anger, ready to take on the boatman, but Rama and Sita only looked at each other and smiled knowingly at Kevat.
“OK, have it your way,” agreed Rama before Lakshmana could object.
Kevat brought water from the Ganga and washed those holy feet with loving care, quite in contrast to the harshness of his words.
Condition fulfilled, his passengers made their way into the boat.
Excitedly, Kevat called out to his wife and children, and all other people standing around.
“Hurry up, what are you waiting for? Here, sprinkle this holy water on your heads and be blessed forever!”
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With a sweet smile, Rama held out the ring to Kevat.
“Thank you for ferrying us across the river. Here, take this as payment for your service.”
Kevat stood with his arms across his chest, refusing to accept the gift. When Rama insisted, he said:
“I cannot accept payment from someone who belongs to my profession!”
Outraged, Lakshmana burst out before Rama could intervene.
“How dare you! I tolerated your nonsense before, but now you’re going too far. You, a mere boatman, how do you have the audacity to pull my brother, the Chakravarti Ramachandra, to your petty level! I’ll take care of you!”
Restraining Lakshmana, Rama smiled at Kevat.
“What are you trying to say, my dear man? How can you say we belong to the same profession?”
“My Lord, I am an ordinary boatman, taking passengers merely across the Ganga. But aren’t You that extraordinary boatman who ferries souls across the bhavasaagara, the ocean of this samsaara? ”
An insignificant boatman had understood the secret that far more sophisticated people fail to recognize!
In the Mukunda Mala stotra, Kulashekhara Azhwar sings:
Let us pray that Shri Rama bless us with the simple yet deep faith of Kevat!
भव जलधि गतानां द्वन्द्व वात आहतानां
सुत दुहितृ कलत्र त्राण भार अर्दितानाम् |
विषं विशय तोये मज्जताम् अप्लवानां
भवतु शरणम् एको विष्णुपोतो नराणाम् ॥ ११ ॥
bhava-jaladhi-gatānāṁ
dvandva-vātāhatānāṁ
suta-duhitṛ-kalatra-trāṇa-bhārārditānām
viṣama-viṣaya-toye majjatām aplavānāṁ
bhavati śaraṇam eko viṣṇu-poto narāṇām
Travelling in this sea of birth and death,
Being tossed hither and thither ,
By the cyclone of love and hate,
Carrying the heavy care,
Of son , daughter and wife ,
And being drowned ,
In this troublesome sea of attachments,
The only boat to save us is our Lord Vishnu
