Let’s return to the tests I mentioned in the series I just concluded last week.
What were these tests? How did they come about ? It started when four brothers and a kingdom came into focus for the youngest Queen of the King. As retold below, the two Princes, and the wife of the eldest Prince, heir to the throne, went into exile. This was the first test that the newly married couple had to navigate.
In the thirteenth year of their exile, the severest test arrived one late morning. After completing their morning chores and meals, the Prince and his wife found themselves sitting outside their hut, shaded by a large tree, basking in the tranquility of the scene. The nearby stream flowed gently, butterflies flitted past, leaves danced in the wind, and the autumn breeze brushed against them ever so lightly.
The Prince leaned against the tree with his eyes closed, content. Beside him, sat Princess Sita, arranging the various types of jasmine flowers she had gathered earlier. Reddish orange and white stems were stacked randomly together as she carefully selected one of each to thread onto a string, intending to wear them in her hair.
As a bird flew from the tree and across the stream, she looked up at the sound and was stunned to see, clear as day, a beautiful golden deer standing across the stream. It stood tall, with incredible antlers and beautiful black eyes, staring back at her as if startled by her presence.
She gasped, uncertain whether it was a dream or real. The golden skin of the deer shimmered against the shade of the trees it stood amidst. It pranced a little, displaying less fear. Once more, it turned to look at her, and she found herself enchanted by its gaze.
“Rama,” she said softly, ensuring not to startle the deer. The Prince did not stir, his heart and mind at peace, asleep.
Sita whispered once more, “Rama.”
The deer took a step back, then turned and approached, bowing its head to graze on the sweet grass it had seemingly discovered in the meadow.
Sita slowly bent forward to keep her eye on the deer and nudged Rama with her elbow. The future King jolted awake, slipping against the tree's trunk, poked unceremoniously by his beloved.
She whispered, "Look," tilting her head towards the deer. "What a beautiful golden deer."
Puzzled, for Sita was not easily carried away, Rama followed her gaze. He straightened against the tree. "What an unusual deer," he muttered. "And what an unusual golden sheen - but how could that be? No deer can be golden," he doubted his eyes.
Just as he blinked to see it again, the deer hopped and skipped, performing a little dance as if to show off its golden skin.
Rama shook his head in disbelief. "Sita, it must be a mirage. That cannot be a golden deer."
Sita smiled at him. "Why don't you get it for me, and we can examine it closely?"
He looked at her, uncertain if she was serious. "You want me to capture the deer?"
She said, "Yes," and asked him to imagine, "How much more beautiful must it be when closer - see, how it stands there looking at me, with those eyes, as though it wants to be here with me." Her enchantment was complete.
"Oh, please, Rama, can you not get it for me?" So asked the love of his life, wondering if the foremost exponent of the bow and arrow had the necessary skills to capture this deer.
Rama shook his head again, attempting once more to dissuade her from desiring an animal that nature would not create. But to no avail. Sita was enamored, and after a few minutes, reluctantly, the Prince rose. Assembling his bow and arrow that was always nearby, he called to his brother, the younger Prince Lakshmana, who emerged from his hut and approached them.
The Prince informed his younger brother, Lakshmana that Sita had expressed a wish for the golden deer they had just seen though it was no longer visible. So he was going on a hunt to capture it.
“A golden deer?” Lakshmana asked in surprise.
Rama confirmed it.
“But how can that be?”
Rama motioned for him to speak softly, lest Sita interpret their doubts as reluctance to pursue it.
“Lakshmana, Sita is determined, so I shall venture forth to see the deer and, if real, bring it back. I am assailed by doubt, though Sita will not be deterred. Therefore, I want you to stay here and protect Sita until I return.”
Lakshmana expressed his concerns about the deer as well but deferred to his brother’s judgment and bowed.
Rama took leave of Sita too, stating, “I shall be right back with this golden deer, if it really exists. Then, we shall see who is right.” He smiled at her good-naturedly as he bid her farewell.
Sita had risen too, laughing, and remarked, “You shall see, I am right. By the time you are back, my garland will be ready too!” She saw him off and returned to her seat under the tree, continuing to weave the single flowers onto the thread.
The Prince's younger brother had, meanwhile, brought out his own bow and arrow. Positioning himself at the perimeter of the hut, he watched all sides, occasionally turning to scan his surroundings.
Longer than Sita expected had passed since her husband had gone to get the deer. Now, her instincts warned her that something was wrong. She asked her brother-in-law how long it had been since Rama had left and found it strange that he had not returned yet.
The Prince assured her that it had not been long, and he was sure that his brother would be back any moment now.
After a few minutes, she rose, her mind now distracted by the delay. Gathering the remaining flowers onto the end of her saree, she tied a knot to hold them, along with her half-completed garland.
She said to Lakshmana, “My heart is uneasy. Your brother may be in some trouble. Please, can you go check?”
Lakshmana smiled at that. “Dear sister, Rama can never be in any trouble. I am sure your worries are unfounded. Mark my words, he shall return immediately.”
Sita was insistent. “No, you need to go and see why he has not returned yet.”
Lakshmana shook his head. “I am extremely confident Rama will be back; we need to just wait. I cannot go and leave you here unattended, as Rama has ordered me to stay here and guard you.”
At his assurance, Sita remained silent for a few minutes, straining her eyes to see as far into the forest as she could.
A small bridge covered the stream on which Rama had set foot to cross the stream and chase after the deer which had run into the forest as he had approached.
But except for the sound of the wind against the leaves, no other sounds could be heard. Sita became restless and started pacing.
Lakshmana tried to reassure her again. “Dear Mother, you are unnecessarily worrying. Rama is the Earth’s bravest and most skilled warrior. No being can harm him. He may have been delayed due to some other reason. Perhaps he wanted to collect some fruits as well; the forest that deep has unusually sweet fruit. Please wait, he…”
His words were cut off as a loud, agonized emotional cry rented the air. “Oh, Lakshmana, help me… help me… Sita, Lakshmana, help!” and then it went silent.
Lakshmana was taken aback. Rama - it was his voice - crying out to him so baffled him.
But Sita burst out, “Rama is in trouble, and you refused to go to his aid. What type of brother are you? How can you stand here and be so calm? I knew something was wrong. Oh, how I wish I had never sent him after the deer. Please, Lakshmana, go to him. He has called to us, and you - surely he is in trouble.”
Lakshmana shook his head and refused. He would not believe it. He would not accept that his brother would ever call to him in such a way, or that his brother could be bested by anyone.
He again implored Sita. “Please do not worry. That cannot be true. Rama cannot be in trouble, and he would never call me in such a manner. Trust me, and let me remain here guarding you until Rama returns. This is his order, and I am bound to obey it.”
Sita grew incensed. In her worry and concern for Rama, and anger at Lakshmana’s refusal to listen, her emotions got the better of rational thought. She demanded that he immediately go to rescue his brother. Her angry words, each one more piercing than the previous, accused him of indifference, neglect, selfishness, and being interested only in his own comfort, making it unbearable for Lakshmana.
Sita again cried, “Please go. He may be lying hurt or in pain. I cannot bear the thought of him somewhere in the forest injured, and we are not doing anything to help. If you respect me, you will go this very minute, else I will disown you as my brother.”
Lakshmana stood shell-shocked at her threat. Torn between his own view that he should stay and protect her, and the doubt that his brother could be in trouble, he was conflicted. Yet, her words had indeed found their mark. He could no longer stay and disobey her.
Unwilling though he was, every inch of his body protesting this action, he still bowed to Sita, finally obeying her command. She stood in place of his mother, and as his sister, being his elder brother’s wife.
Despite his assurances, she suspected his motives for refusing to help Rama. How could he bear this any longer?
Lakshmana decided he preferred to take his chances with Rama’s anger rather than face Sita’s.
Addressing his sister-in-law, he said, “Dearest Sister, whom I also regard as my mother, despite my assurances that no one in the three worlds can defeat Rama, you remain unconvinced he is free from harm. So, to allay your fears, I shall abandon my brother’s order and go in search of him.
However, for your safety while I am gone, I request you to promise me two things: that you will always remain inside this hut and not come out until I return with Rama, and that you will not cross these lines I draw here in the sand to protect you while I am gone.
Sita agreed and hastened her steps to enter the hut.
Once she was inside, he took an arrow from his quiver, and chanted a powerful mantra, and then, dipping it into available white chalk powder, he drew three thick long white lines in the mud outside the entrance door to her hut, from one end to the other.
He infused each line with the most powerful protection charm or mantra, silently meditating for a moment, with his eyes closed, and calling on the Gods to arm the lines.
Then, he stepped back and demanded a promise from Sita that she would not, under any circumstances, step outside of these three lines. He emphasized, “Under any circumstances.” If she agreed to abide by it, then and only then would he go in search of his brother.
He waited, his expression troubled and anxious. Seeing his distress, Sita's anger softened. She promised to abide by his instructions and urged him to hurry.
With a heavy heart and inner turmoil, Lakshmana turned to look back several times as he slowly made his way into the forest to find his brother.
An hour passed, and Sita waited anxiously inside the hut, listening for the sound of their footsteps returning.
Instead, she heard a voice call out loudly, "Alms, Mother, please give me alms. You will be blessed."
Sita rose and approached the hut's door, where she saw standing outside, at a distance from the entrance, a kindly-looking monk.
He wore the garb of a wandering monk: long, flowing black hair tied in knots, a thick black beard grown from years of meditation, and a bag slung over his shoulder. Around his neck hung a string of long rosary beads, while his forehead bore the smudged ashes characteristic of monks devoted to Lord Shiva, the Destroyer.
Her initial thought was "Not now!"
Yet, feeling ashamed for thinking so, she offered to the monk, "Please wait."
She went back inside and filled a large wooden bowl with rice grains.
Returning to the entrance, she extended the bowl towards the monk, saying, "Here, dear father, please come near and receive these grains."
The monk replied, "Mother, the way of the householder is not the way of the monk. Please come and bestow your generosity directly into this cloth bag so I may continue on my way."
Sita demurred. She again requested, “Please Sir, do come near, so I may offer you this humble token.”
But the monk remained adamant, repeating that he wouldn't approach the hut, and she must come out to give alms.
Sita attempted to explain, "My husband and brother-in-law are not here. I am alone, and my brother-in-law has forbidden me from stepping out of the hut. Please understand that I cannot come outside to give alms. Kindly accept my offering as it is."
The monk responded with kindness, "Dear Mother, I am but a wandering monk. What harm could an old sannyasi (monk) like me possibly cause? You appear concerned. Trust me, serve me the alms, and rest assured, your husband will return home to you soon.”
Sita hesitated once more. Lakshmana's strict instructions echoed in her mind, but the monk appeared harmless. However, she had made a promise to Lakshmana.
She reiterated her request to the monk, "Dear Sir, I am forbidden to step outside, but I can offer you your alms from here. Please come closer."
Upon hearing this, the monk flew into a rage. He berated her, "What pride and ego you have! Is this how householders behave now? Refusing to serve one who serves God? Do you think this will help you accumulate merit? Go, then, girl, I want nothing from a proud householder like you."
His menacing demeanor, manner of speech and the fear of being cursed or his leaving without alms overwhelmed Sita. His accusation of her pride further fueled her fear. Finally, her reluctance gave way, and she did the unthinkable: she broke her promise.
She stepped out cautiously, one foot on the first line, the other held back.
He stood angrily and extended his bag taking one small step closer. Sita extended her arms, and tried to pour the rice into his bag, but it was just out of reach.
She again requested the monk to come closer. But he stood angrily, barely budging.
Sita stretched her arms, trying to pour the rice into his bag, but again, it remained frustratingly out of reach.
So, she took another step, this time onto the second line, with both feet still firmly placed on the first and second lines.
The monk feigned moving nearer, extending his arms and bag just enough to appear within reach, but still keeping his distance.
Without intending to, or realizing it consciously, she extended her arms, taking two more steps forward, stepping outside the boundary of the third line, to close the gap between the bowl and the bag.
The moment her feet cleared the third line, the monk seized both her arms, slapping the bowl of rice away, causing it to fall to the ground and scatter its grains. In an instant, he transformed into a demon king.
Sita cried out first in alarm at this transgression—a stranger touching her.
Then she was seized with fear at the sight of the fearsome demon king. He stood tall, with broad shoulders, a thick, long mustache adorning his face, and penetrating dark eyes beneath bushy eyebrows.
A heavy golden crown adorned his head, and he was clad in armor from head to toe, with a gleaming sword hanging from his hilt. As she beheld his evil grin and imposing figure, she felt her strength give way, and she fainted.
The demon effortlessly lifted her into his magical chariot, which appeared at his command. Seating her within, he soared into the clouds, leaving no trace behind of his presence.
Meanwhile, Lakshmana had ventured deep into the forest, tracking footprints until he found his brother kneeling beside a slain demon,his heart pierced seemingly by Rama’s arrow.
Approaching Rama, Lakshmana inquired about his well-being, mentioning they had heard his scream in the forest.
Rama glanced at Lakshmana. “That wasn't me. The deer led me a merry chase, intentionally it would seem, deeper into the forest. When I finally shot it, the deer revealed itself to be this demon before you. He used my voice as a trick to call out to you just before he died. I was examining him for any identifying marks when you arrived.”
Then, abruptly switching, he questioned, “Why are you here? Didn't I ask you to guard Sita?”
Lakshmana then explained the sequence of events to Rama, detailing his encounter with Sita's worried state and his subsequent decision to search for him. He also mentioned the precaution he had taken by arming the hut with a powerful charm to keep Sita safe.
Rama fell silent for a moment, pondering the situation. Then, he wondered aloud, “But why go to all this trouble of assuming a deer’s form, and then seeking to deceive you by calling you in my voice as if I were in trouble? What purpose could it serve?"
He stood up, gazing down at the dead demon, lost in thought, pondering his own question.
Lakshmana too was reflecting on his earlier misgivings and how he had been reluctant to leave.
Rama said, “Lakshmana, my mind is not easy. You should not have left Sita alone. Ever since that she-demon tormented us, you know that it is not safe for Sita to be alone. It is already late afternoon and we have been away a while.”
So saying, he picked up his bow and arrow lying by the side of the body, and along with Lakshmana raced back to the hut.
He was too late.
Apart from the visual of the scattered grains, and the wooden bowl lying on its side, outside the hut, there was silence all around.
It was as though Sita had vanished into thin air.
Read the prequel to this story.
and then, this sequel which continues the series.
Jayshree, Very nice. D
Holding my breath again… my goodness, what a extraordinary tale you’re presenting us again Jayshree. Can’t wait for the next part.