Week 5 Story: Sita's Injustice

Sita's Injustice

The trek from the hermitage to the well was about half a mile - which wasn't very far in actuality, but in the sweltering heat of the sun, even a single step seemed like a marathon. Sita pulled the hem of her headscarf over her eyes to block the harsh rays of the sun. "Although," she said to herself, "this is but a drop in the ocean of despair that I've endured in my life."

Sita knew that she would never hurt even an ant. She was the gentlest, kindest soul one could know - and, to her, so was Rama. The handsome, valiant king of Ayodhya who won her over by lifting Shiva's holy bow. The one with whom she was prepared to spend fourteen years in exile for a cause unrelated to herself. And, the one who saved her from the clutches of Ravana. 

But, in the back of her head, Sita had unanswered questions. People had always exalted Rama for his ability to not only pick up and string Shiva's bow, but to break it by brandishing it. But who had recognized Sita, who had been picking it up and cleaning it all along, ever since she was a little girl? People recognized something incredibly special about Rama; did anyone ever think about Sita? No; the only thing Sita was ever useful for in their eyes was marrying some fitting prince and leading a good life in union. 

And, did anyone put thought into the agony that she faced while at Ravana's palace in Lanka? How she spent so long without her beloved? Or, the fact that she was kidnapped in the first place...? No; everyone just remembers Rama's valiant efforts in finding her and defeating Ravana. 

Sita reached the well and lowered the bucket slowly into the water. The weather was becoming calmer; Surya, the god of the sun, seemed to have eased on his onslaught. She could hear her twin sons, Lava and Kusha, singing in the hermitage in the distance. 

And, not to mention, what happened after Rama finally saw his beloved wife after going through so much effort to rescue her? He coldly received her and suspected her of infidelity. She should do a trial by fire to prove her purity, he said. Lakshmana was there. Hanuman was there. So was Vibhishana, Jambavantha, Sugriva, and all rest of the clan that Rama had attracted - not a single one of them pointed out the unfairness of the deal, or came to Sita's defense. Not Lakshmana, who had so willingly left his princely life to live alongside his brother, nor Hanuman, who had moved an entire mountain for the cause of Rama and who had actually even visited Sita in Lanka.

Tears flowed through Sita's eyes as she remembered her experience trekking into the fire, hoping that at least Agni would have mercy on her. She remembered the joy of being untouched, of her purity being proven, and of going back to Ayodhya. 

Perhaps Agni had mercy on her, but even that mercy was not enough for the townspeople of Ayodhya to gossip. And, apparently, it wasn't enough for her beloved Rama to keep her. Another tear rolled down Sita's cheek as she remembered the agony of being banished from Ayodhya, several months pregnant. And here she was today, gathering water half a mile from a hermitage in the middle of the forest. 

Suddenly, a series of loud bangs and several screams in the direction of the hermitage broke Sita from her trance. "Oh, no, my sons!" she screamed, breaking in a sprint back to the hermitage. She left the water behind. 

Arriving back at the hermitage, she found an ungodly sight: her two sons fighting their father, her beloved Rama. She froze in silence at the sight. It had been years since she had seen her husband; wrinkles and gray hairs from age and stress seemed to show. He still retained that gleam in his eyes, however - that gleam that made her fall in love with him initially. It was that gleam that helped him kill Ravana, and that same gleam threatened to destroy her sons, too. 

"Stop!" she yelled, "What is this nonsense?"

"Mother!" Lava and Kusha exclaimed as they turned to see her. "Sita!" Rama simultaneously exclaimed.

It seemed like a moment of enlightenment for that party of three. Lava and Kusha deduced from the situation this: Rama had referred to their mother as Sita, so if Sita was their mother...Rama must be their father. "Father!" they exclaimed, eyes and words full of apology as they dropped their weapons and ran toward him. 

"Oh, my sons! I cannot believe I was fighting you," Rama said, embracing them. It was a heartwarming turn of events, Sita thought as she watched this unfold. "Sita, please return to Ayodhya with me. Become my queen again, and we can raise our princes together," he said. "Is this a dream?" Sita wondered to herself. 

But, before she could say anything, Rama followed up with, "But, if you may, I request that you do another trial of fire before returning....after all, you have lived among all these men for several years, now...."

All joy and compassion left Sita in that moment. The harmless, soft, sweet Sita that everyone had known died in that instant, replaced with an insatiable fury. 

"What did you say?" Sita said, her eyes gleaming with fire. 

The wind began picking up speed as ominous, dark clouds began to cover the heavens. Blinding flashes of lightning filled the sky, accompanied by bloodcurdling bursts of thunder. The trees began swaying with such force from the wind that they threatened to be pulled from the ground like grass. 

Sita's entire being began glowing brilliantly, blinding those around her. Even Rama had to cover his eyes, unable to take the brilliance. Lightning and thunder seemed to crack open the sky. 

"After all these years, all these injustices, you dare question my fidelity once more?" Sita said, her voice seeming to echo across all of existence. "All these years I stood by your side, I raised your sons, taught them your song...and what do I get? You not only fight my sons right in front of my eyes, but dare ask me for another trial by fire?"

"You seem to forget," Sita continued, "that I, myself, am an avatar of the Goddess Adi-Parashakti. I am no toy to be played around with. All of existence is my creation, Rama, and you, as an avatar of Vishnu, are no exception to that. Every instance of life, every living being, and every moment of time is a gift of my creation and grace. You are no one to question it."

With that, a tremendous roar, like that of a lion's, overtook the skies as the ground beneath Sita began opening in a chasm. A throne rose from within the Earth, and Sita took a seat on it. 

"Goodbye, Rama," she coldly exclaimed as the throne began receding back into the Earth. 

And thus, Sita forfeited her human body and all the troubles she had accumulated with it. 

An picture depicting Sita carrying a bow in the manner that Rama is normally depicted to. 

Source. 

Author's Note: This is a story based on Sita's return back to Bhumi after Rama asks her to do another trial by fire to return to Ayodhya. In this rather long rendition, however, Sita ruminates on all the injustices of her life, in the end revealing that, as an avatar of Lakshmi, she is not secondary to Rama. Instead of returning to Goddess Bhumi, Sita, who reveals her power as the Goddess Adi-Parashakti, seats herself on the throne alone, emphasizing her nature as the primordial creator of the universe - the Earth included. 

Bibliography: "Sita Returns to Bhumi" from "Sita Sings the Blues." Link to Animated Movie