Oh, What Heartache Must Endure.
Of Love, Duty, and Sacrifice.
Please be sure to read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5 first.
The Gods came hurrying sensing an event of celestial significance - no virtuous sons had yet dared to raise weapons against their father.
The father, who gave the twins life, was akin to God, and challenging him so, and threatening him in battle meant that courting catastrophe.
Just then, from a slight distance afar, a loud, angry voice pierced the air, marching towards them. "Wait, Luv, Kush. Stop at once."
Recognizing their guru’s voice, the twins turned towards the path emerging from the ashram, their bows and arrows still drawn.
The sage, Valmiki, hurried towards them and in a tone they had never heard him use before, ordered them to lower their weapons. “Is this how I have raised and taught you? To take up arms against your King, who is like your father, and in whose realm you live under his generous rule?”
“What madness tempted you to capture this horse? You are not rulers of any kingdom to challenge your King. How did you embark on such a dangerous adventure without my permission?”
Skewered so badly in front of the King, the twins began to realize that they had erred.
But they were only teens, and try as they could, they could not hold back the tears from streaming down their cheeks at this harsh tone of their loving teacher, who had never in all the time they had studied with him and made mistakes, sought to raise his voice or speak harshly to them. They knew then that they had crossed a line.
The King, on the arrival of the sage, had also recovered, and lowered his weapon, though his anger was still far from being cooled.
The mention of Sita had touched a nerve so deep that he was unsure he could speak in a composed way for a while yet.
The twins fell at the sage’s feet and begged forgiveness. The sage, now calm after the scare of being almost too late to stop the sons from fighting their father, comforted them and held them both close.
Then, he turned to the King, who bowed before him, while the twins ran to release Hanuman. The sage then begged the King’s forgiveness for any behavior of the twins that may have caused him offense.
He motioned to the twins to seek forgiveness from the King. They shyly went forward and bent towards the King’s feet, seeking pardon for all their actions.
Rama had once vowed to Ravana’s brother, a long while ago, that even if Ravana came to him at that moment, at the height of going to war, and sought his pardon and protection, despicable though his act of kidnapping Sita was, Rama would forgive him. For power without compassion and valor without forgiveness were not worthy of honor.
That honorable King, now considerably cooler, thus forgave the twins in an instant and commended their bravery again.
Still curious though, he enquired of the sage, “Have you taught them this celestial warfare that they used to defeat my brothers and my army?”
The sage nodded, but then added, “But that is not the whole reason for why they were able to defeat your army. They are also blessed by their mother to be victorious in all their undertakings.”
The King looked askance at this reference, but politely suggested, “Then, this mother, I must meet, who has taught her children such bravery and has raised them into fine young men who make their parents, teacher, and their King proud.”
The sage asked, “Are you sure, O King, that you wish to meet the mother? For she is right here standing behind those trees as I have brought her with me. ”
King Rama puzzled at the sage’s question, said, “Yes, I indeed wish to meet the mother of this brave children.”
The sage then said, “So be it,” and called out to his daughter of the forest to come show herself.
Sita emerged from behind the trees, adorned with flowers in her hair and a red bindi on her forehead. She wore a simple pink saree, its soft folds draping gracefully around her form, complemented by the jewelry that signified her marital status: a gold mangalsutra necklace, which Rama had tenderly tied around her neck during their wedding ceremony; silver toe-rings, gifts from her parents, which Rama had delicately slipped onto her toes; and diamond bangles, bestowed upon her by her mother-in-law when she first entered Rama’s palatial home.
The tiny bells on silver anklets she wore on her feet could barely be heard in normal circumstances, but in the silence of that forest clearing, to Rama, no other sound could be heard.
His heart melted at the sight of her as she walked towards him, finally stopping a foot away, by the sage, raising her eyes shyly to see his face, and joining her hands together to salute him.
“Sita,” Rama whispered in shock, as his mind tried to reconcile to the idea that here in the middle of a remote piece of land, so close to his kingdom, was where he finally was coming face to face with the wife he had last seen eleven years ago.
Not a day aged, her face shone beautifully, though marred by the sorrow he could see had left their mark on her face and in her haunted eyes.
The sage had moved away with the twins and stood by Hanuman who was already bowing down to Sita, whom he served as equal to his mother.
“How are you, my Lord?” Sita asked softly, still unbelieving that the Gods had finally smiled on her, and allowed her a glimpse of the one who ruled her heart.
“Sita,” he repeated stupefied.
Then, suddenly realizing what the sage had said, turned to the sage, and the twins and comprehending the truth, turned to Sita to confirm, “Are these …. are these ….. our sons?”
Sita smiled at him, a shy beautiful smile that lit up the atmosphere, and nodded.
He turned to the children looking at them in wonder and understanding too, why his feelings had been invoked when he first lay eyes on them.
The sage spoke up, “Dear Rama, I met Sita in these forests the day she was exiled, and knew her to be with child. I brought her here to my ashram, as my daughter, and have looked after her ever since, holding her as a precious gift in my keeping, so one day, I could confirm this to you and return her to your side where she belongs.”
Then, the sage detailed all that happened in the intervening years since he had first met Sita.
The twins at first were confused until their Guru confirmed to them that their father was none other than King Rama, and their mother was the hapless Queen Sita, whom they defended so well.
Still shaken from the knowledge that they were the children of Rama and Sita, and at the awareness of the sin of fighting their father that they had nearly committed, they stood quietly by Hanuman chastened, assimilating the news.
Though happy to learn these brave children were his sons which served to resolve the mystery of their ability to vanquish his brave brothers and the reason for Hanuman’s surrender, Rama’s eyes were fixed solely on Sita.
There was so much to say to her. He felt that his excitement at her appearance was unmatched by any joy he had ever experienced before, though not quite the same as when he first laid eyes on her in the garden eons ago now.
He was conscious of a feeling that all his heart’s desires had been met in this one moment of truth when he saw Sita once again.
He became aware of sounds behind him that signaled that they were not alone anymore.
Indeed, the brothers had been revived and had recovered, and quickly arrived at the site in case their brother needed help.
Seeing Sita, and hearing that the children were Rama’s sons, their joy knew no bounds.
They bowed to Sita from afar.
Sita, whose joy was infinite, at the expression she saw on Rama’s face when he first laid eyes on her, and the pride she saw too when he looked at his sons, and the respect the rest of the brothers showed her, meant to her that she was not forgotten.
She recollected the state of her mind when she had at first laid eyes on Rama, in that garden, so long ago now, and bewitched had started to see his face everywhere that night, including as the moon’s reflection in her Palatial pond.
Now, delighted because Rama’s unbidden joy meant she could return to her Lord’s side, and be reunited with him.
The sage signaled to Rama, that he would make preparations for Sita to be received in the Palace, and that he would escort her there himself along with the twins.
At these words, Rama’s heart became heavy again.
Just like when you see the sun appear behind the thunderclouds on a rainy day for just a few seconds providing a glimpse of what could be, and then is lost again to the clouds and rain.
The original reason for her exile had still to be resolved so that the people of the kingdom would never doubt his Sita again and accept her as their Queen.
However hurtful, the task must be done so that when she returned, she returned in triumph as the pure and chaste Sita that she was to him always.
He had never doubted her, but the people of his kingdom wanted proof.
This was the crux of the issue.
So he said now in front of the small group of assembled people. “Though it pains me no end to say this, I can only accept Sita again if she proves her faithfulness to me in front of all of the people in Ayodhya, so no one should ever again doubt her or fail to accept her, as their Queen.”
Every word he spoke pricked his heart, more than she possibly could know, as these years apart had shown him, how moorless he was without his beloved by his side.
But to Sita, hearing these words proved too much to bear.
After all of the sacrifices and the hardships she had endured with her entire life spent in the thought of Rama, to have to prove yet again to an uncaring, unkind, and unworthy world, that she had been faithful, she found to be an unbearable agony.
The sage tried to ward off the coming doom.
He told Rama politely but firmly, that this was not a requirement and that Rama or the people of Ayodhya had no reason to doubt Sita. The sage said he would vouch for her purity by staking all his spiritual power on it, and if this fact was not true, then he prayed that all his power be taken away.
Rama said, “This is not for me, as I have never doubted Sita for a second in my entire life.”
He willed Sita to hear it from him, and see it in his face, what his heart felt.
Sita looked up at his words, and there on his face, she saw finally the lines of sorrow that mirrored hers.
He had suffered as much as she had.
Her heart filled with love for him, and sorrow for them both.
So much misery, borne for this world. So much unhappiness, undergone for this world.
Is there any way to measure, she wondered, the price two people in love pay for the good of the world? To satisfy petty souls, who never cease to demand their pound of flesh?
Alas, there is no way yet devised that may measure the heartache, and turmoil that two souls undergo to justify their right to be together, without needing to prove to the world that right and still be called on to prove it time and again to a doubting world.
For a doubting world, and a doubting individual, there can never be any peace in this world or the next.1
So, in that clearing, as she watched the love in Rama’s eyes, and the conflict in his face, and hearing his words that touched her deeply, she made a terrible decision.
Just as Rama had made a fateful decision on that dark, frightening night many moons ago, setting them both on the path they walked today, Sita too resolved that this test would be the last she would subject herself to in this world. Even amidst her pain, she felt duty-bound to honor Rama's wish.
She looked at Rama with love, smiled in sorrow, stepped back, closed her eyes, joined her hands, and vowed one final time, a tremendous vow of chastity:
“Hear this, every living being in this universe, on Earth, in Heaven, and the netherworld: I, Sita, also known as Janaki, the daughter of King Janaka, born of Mother Earth, do swear that in my mind, thought, and deed, I have thought of no other in this life but Rama, my beloved. If this is indeed true, then let the Earth open up and my mother receive me.”
Realizing what she was about to do, Rama reached out his hand to stop her and cried, "No, Sita, No."
Eyes closed, Sita prayed aloud, her voice resolute, "If it is true that there was and is no other man in my thought, word, and deed, and there has never been anyone except Rama, then let this Earth open up and receive me."
Rama tried to stop her again, "No, Sita, stop, please, don’t do this," for even if the world had its doubts, Rama never did, and he knew she was treading a dangerous path.
Yet, Sita prayed a third time, "If it is true that I have always, in mind, heart, soul, speech, and action, worshipped Rama and stayed true to him since the day I met him, then let this Earth open up and receive me."
A loud rumble began the minute Sita finished her prayer. The earth shook with the sound of a ripple crackling through its surface, and the sky thundered during the day.
Between Rama and Sita, loud and visible, the Earth’s surface broke, a long open divide running through the middle of the ground, separating the two yet again.
The earth yawned between them, and from that huge opening emerged the Goddess, Mother Earth.
Sita bowed to her, tears flowing down her face, “Mother, I cannot bear it here anymore. Please take me home. I am tired of this world and of being tested again and again. Please take your daughter home, far away from this cruel and unjust world that seeks to humiliate a woman and demean her value. I wish no longer to be part of it. Please take me home.”
Sita turned to Rama and begged forgiveness. “I am sorry, my Lord, but I cannot go on any longer. Please take care of your sons. Give me leave, so I may go with my mother.”
“No, Sita, you cannot abandon me here,” Rama protested still unable to believe that his wife, his beloved who had always supported him, through happiness and distress, would take such a drastic action.
Sita pointed to their children and beckoned them to their father. “Dearest Luv, Kush - I am leaving to go to my mother. Take care of your father. I shall always love you and be with you. But your father is now both your father and mother. So love and respect him as you loved and respected me.”
The twins shocked cried out to her to not abandon them. Sita merely shook her head, and said, “It is time, my dear sons, do not stop me, I cannot stay.”
Rama still did not believe that Sita would leave him.
But right before his very eye, the Goddess Mother Earth embraced Sita, and the two of them vanished into the ground and the ground closed behind them like there was never any break, or that there was ever a Sita who had stood there not minutes ago.
Rama’s immobility ended, at Sita’s disappearance, and quickly, he removed his bow and arrow and aimed it at the ground, threatening the Earth to return Sita to him or face his wrath.
So angry did he become that, for a moment, the Preserver-God was willing to destroy his own creation, the Goddess Earth, whom he had saved from annihilation in his earlier incarnations, for betraying him so.
The wise sage stopped him in time and reminded him that he could not destroy Earth, as he was its creator and preserver as well. With his spiritual powers, the sage instantly made him aware that Rama was, in effect, the incarnation of the Preserver God, and that Sita, or Goddess Lakshmi, his consort, had returned to her Heavenly abode. He would only reunite with her when he returned to his abode.
The sage recalled to him, the intent of his incarnation, and reminded him of his duty as a father to his twin children. Doing so, gradually brought him to a sense of calm, and as was always the case with Rama, to a sense of duty again.
For as a son, brother, prince, husband, king, and now a father, Rama was always the epitome of duty.
He closed his eyes momentarily, composing himself, then turned to embrace his children, who were still crying at the abrupt loss of their mother, reassuring them of his love.
He thanked the sage for safeguarding the children and Sita during the intervening years, and together with his brothers and his devoted Hanuman, returned to his kingdom.
The brothers enveloped their nephews with love, their emotions mixed with happiness and yet tinged with sadness.
King Rama remained on Earth only long enough to raise his children to adulthood, guiding them in the ways of royalty. Eventually, he divided his kingdom in two and entrusted the reins to them.
Then, he turned his back on all things human and entered the river, voluntarily returning to his eternal abode, the Milky Ocean. There, he was reunited with Sita, who was the incarnation of his consort, Goddess Lakshmi, with whom he had undertaken this human form and endured its hardships for the benefit of humankind.
Thank you for staying with me till the end of this story. Please share your feedback and comments on whether this original retelling was worth your time. Now, as some of you have been asking, for the context, and the notes.
Detailed Context
The series of stories I have laid out in modern form, is one of the most difficult, challenging elements of the Ramayana, or the story of Rama.
Sita was kidnapped by Ravana and though she stayed on the outskirts of his Palace, in a garden, surrounded by his demon guards, she was held for over eight or nine months in captivity.
Rama fought a ten-day war to rescue Sita from Ravana and to end his evil reign on Earth.
He succeeded, but before he accepted Sita back, he asked her to take a ‘Fire Test,’ or in Sanskrit, ‘Agni (Fire) Pariksha (Test/Exam)’ to prove her chastity, for the sake of the world (but not for his sake as he never doubted her).
She entered the fire built especially for this occasion, in the presence of Rama, his brother, and some other witnesses.
The idea is that if she was as pure as when she was kidnapped, i.e. true to Rama, then she would return unscathed from the fire. She passes the test, and Agni, the Fire God, attests to her purity and hands her to Rama personally.
In reality, this test was undertaken to return the true Sita to Rama as the person who was held by Ravana was another woman in the form of Sita. [A story, I shall save for another day.]
But after Rama and Sita are crowned King and Queen, a section of the populace begins to openly doubt her chastity, as her test was not witnessed by anyone in the kingdom (it was held in Lanka (modern-day Sri Lanka), Ravana’s kingdom, after his death) and so begin to use her story as a reason to abandon their wives. They fail to respect her as Queen, and through her, the King.
Without being respected for authority, honor, and integrity, a King cannot administer justice. So, Rama had to choose what to do in the wake of this situation.
There are several interpretations of what did happen, what Rama did or did not do, and reasons for his exiling Sita. Was there any other way out? The controversy continues to be in accepting this happened and reconciling it with the fact that Rama is considered the ideal man, and Sita, is the ideal woman. Tulsidas, retold the story of Rama, in a modern-day post-mythological era, and refused to write the story beyond the coronation of Rama and Sita as King and Queen. His rendition ends in the crowning.
The original version, written by the sage, Valmiki, during the time of Rama, and believed to have been sung in front of Rama, by his sons, before the battle of the horse, as presented here, is accepted as the longer version of the story of Rama, though some speculate it was added later.
The key philosophical conflict is whether a King can be a King if his integrity is under doubt, as in olden times the standards were quite high. If so, what kind of sacrifices does a King’s life entail? What of Sita, what is her role in this conflict, and what does this augur for women? Hence the controversial aspects of these incidents.
For the most part, culturally, the incident of the test by fire, the implication, the second test, and the subsequent exile are accepted as though it happened, though religious pundits interpret it as needed to suit their times and audiences. Sita is always the one sympathized with, for the cruel way the world treats her, and her treatment is used as a metaphor for the hypocrisy of the world.
The takeaway that is applied culturally even to this day, is that if a woman like Sita can face such difficulties, what of ordinary women?
Notes
One of the reasons attributed to the brothers losing the battle with the sons, is because of their feeling of pride and ego in being brave warriors and Rama’s brothers, and so they had to learn humility in defeat. Hanuman was always humble and so was able to see through the real source of the twins’ power.
King Janaka held a sacrificial worship for a baby and was directed to till the land in a particular place. When he did, the yoke hit a jeweled box in the earth, and on opening it, the King found a baby in it and named her Sita. Hence, Sita calls the Earth her mother.
In Hindu mythology, Earth is a Goddess, Bhudevi.
The Preserver God is worshipped as Rama, along with his companions, brother Prince Lakshmana, wife, Sita, and devotee Hanuman. These are pivotal figures in Hindu mythology, and culture, and are worshipped daily, to this day. There is an emotional resonance with this God, and his story, among millions, and it has become a part of the fabric of Hindu culture. There are scores of temples in every nook and corner of India, worshipping the four figures - Rama, Sita, Lakshmana, and Hanuman, together in one place. Hanuman as outlined earlier, is also worshipped extensively, in individual form, across India as the ideal devotee of God.
Rama is worshipped as the ideal man and Sita as the ideal wife. The brothers as the ideal brothers. The examples of the brothers are held culturally as the standard against which siblings are measured in Hindu families. This is in the cultural DNA even today.
Rama’s life is the ideal standard for sons in families, and his life serves to remind people that duty is supreme, and in the performance of one’s duty, all manner of sacrifices may be needed.
Rama is accepted as an ideal ruler, and his kingdom considered the ideal kingdom since the inception of time. His rule is the standard to measure rulers or those in power against.
The Preserver-God was cursed twice to undergo the heartache of separation from his beloved. Those unlocked stories are here and here. This is why, in this form, Rama is separated from Sita and suffers the agony of heartbreak just like any other human being.
When God takes the form of a human, or ‘incarnates,’ he has to undergo the human form’s trials and tribulations also, as illustrated in this retelling. The difference is that since he is always *centered* in the handling of his trials, he is projected as a role model, for how humans must endure and remain centered in their lives - i.e. be resilient despite difficulties.
This is also shown in his other pivotal incarnation, ‘Krishna,’ where he teaches the way to live this human life, in the ‘Gita.’
Any other questions?
From the Bhagavad Gita.
Thank you for sharing this captivating story and adding some cultural context at the end. Is this story told throughout the whole country or only in certain regions? Is this famous story taught to children in the equivalent to "Sunday School," at regular school (e.g., historical literature class, etc.), or in some other setting?
Enjoyed!