Sita: Warrior of Mithila (Ram Chandra Series #2)

Centuries ago, Lord Rudra, the previous Mahadev, had restricted the use of daivi astras. The approval of the Vayuputras, the living representatives of Lord Rudra, was mandatory for using the divine weapons. This was not to Vishwamitra’s liking or comfort.

The great Maharishi had made elaborate plans. Plans which involved, perhaps, the use of the Asuraastra. He knew the Vayuputras did not like him. Not since the episode with Trishanku. They tolerated him because they had no choice. He was, after all, chief of the Malayaputras.

While the search was a slow and tedious process, Vishwamitra was confident that the material would be found, eventually.

It was time to move to the next phase of his plan. He had to select a Vishnu. He had just revealed his choice to Arishtanemi, his trusted lieutenant.

‘You disagree?’ asked Vishwamitra.

‘She is exceptionally capable, Guruji. No doubt about it. One can sense it, even at her tender age. But …’ Arishtanemi’s voice trailed off.

Vishwamitra put his hand on Arishtanemi’s shoulder. ‘Speak freely. I am talking to you because I want to hear your views.’

‘I spent some time watching her carefully, Guruji. I think she is too rebellious. I am not sure the Malayaputras will be able to manage her. Or, control her.’

‘We will. She has no one else. Her city has abandoned her. But she has the potential to be great. She wants to be great. We will be her route to realising it.’

‘But can’t we also keep searching for other candidates?’

‘Your trusted aides gathered information on her in Mithila, right? Most of it was very encouraging.’

‘But there was that case of her probably killing a boy in the Mithila slums when she was eight.’

‘I see in that incident her ability to survive. Your investigators also said the boy was probably a criminal. She fought her way through, even as a small child. That’s a positive. She has the fighting spirit. Would you rather she had died like a coward?’

‘No, Guruji,’ said Arishtanemi. ‘But I am wondering if there are possibly other candidates that we have not yet stumbled upon.’

‘You personally know almost every royal family in India. Most of them are completely useless. Selfish, cowardly, and weak. And their next generation, the royal children, are even worse. They are nothing but genetic garbage.’

Arishtanemi laughed. ‘Few countries have had the misfortune of being saddled with such a worthless elite.’

‘We have had great leaders in the past. And we will have a great leader in the future too. One who will pull India out of its present morass.’

‘Why not from the common folk?’

‘We have been searching for a long time. Had that been Lord Parshu Ram’s will, we would have found one by now. And don’t forget, Sita is only an adopted royal. Her parentage is unknown.’

Vishwamitra did not feel the need to tell Arishtanemi what he suspected about Sita’s birth.

Arishtanemi overcame his hesitation. ‘I have heard that the Ayodhya princes …’

The Malayaputra military chief stopped mid-sentence when he saw Vishwamitra bristle. His famed courage vanished into thin air. Arishtanemi had indeed heard positive reports about the young princes of Ayodhya, particularly Ram and Bharat. Ram was a little less than nine years old. But Vashishtha was the raj guru of Ayodhya. And, Vashishtha was a subject Arishtanemi had learned to avoid.

‘That snake has taken the Ayodhya princes to his gurukul,’ said Vishwamitra, anger boiling within. ‘I don’t even know where his ashram is. He has kept it a secret. If I don’t know then nobody knows. We only hear about the four brothers when they return to Ayodhya on holiday.’

Arishtanemi stood like a statue, barely breathing.

‘I know how Vashishtha’s mind works. I had made the mistake of considering him my friend once. He is up to something. Either with Ram or Bharat.’

‘Sometimes, things don’t work out as planned, Guruji. Our work in Lanka inadvertently ended up helping …’

‘Raavan has his uses,’ interrupted Vishwamitra. ‘Don’t ever forget that. And, he is moving in the direction we need him to. It will all work out.’

‘But Guruji, can the Vayuputras oppose the Malayaputras? It is our prerogative to choose the next Vishnu. Not that of the raj guru of Ayodhya.’

‘For all their sham neutrality, the Vayuputras will do everything they can to help that rat. I know it. We do not have much time. We must start preparing now!’

‘Yes, Guruji.’

‘And, if she is to be trained for her role, it too must begin now.’

‘Yes, Guruji.’

‘Sita will be the Vishnu. The Vishnu will rise during my reign. The time has come. This country needs a leader. We cannot allow our beloved India to suffer endlessly.’

‘Yes, Guruji,’ said Arishtanemi. ‘Should I tell the Captain to …’

‘Yes.’



‘Where are you taking me, Radhika?’ asked Sita, smiling, as her friend led her by the hand.

They were walking deep into the forest to the south of the gurukul.

‘Hanu bhaiya!’ screamed Sita in delight, as they entered a small clearing.

Hanuman stood next to his horse, rubbing the tired animal’s neck. The horse was tied to a tree.

‘My sisters!’ said Hanuman affectionately.

The gentle giant walked up to them. He enclosed them together in a warm embrace. ‘How are the two of you doing?’

‘You have been away for far too long!’ Radhika complained.

‘I know,’ sighed Hanuman. ‘I’m sorry. I was abroad …’

‘Where do you keep going?’ asked Sita, who found Hanuman’s mysterious life very exciting. ‘Who sends you on these missions?’

‘I will tell you when the time is right, Sita … But not now.’

Hanuman reached into the saddlebag tied to the horse and pulled out a delicate necklace made of gold, in a style that was obviously foreign.

Radhika squealed with delight.

‘You guess correctly,’ smiled Hanuman, as he handed it to her. ‘This one is for you …’

Radhika admired the necklace in detail, turning it around several times in her hands.

‘And for you, my serious one,’ said Hanuman to Sita. ‘I’ve got what you’ve always wanted …’

Sita’s eyes widened. ‘An ekmukhi Rudraaksh?!’

The word Rudraaksh literally meant the teardrop of Rudra. In reality, it was a brown elliptical seed. All who were loyal to the Mahadev, Lord Rudra, wore threaded Rudraaksh beads or kept one in their puja rooms. A common Rudraaksh seed had many grooves running across it. An ekmukhi Rudraaksh was rare, and had only one groove on its surface. Very difficult to find. Expensive too. Priceless for Sita, a staunch Lord Rudra devotee.

Hanuman smiled as he reached into the saddlebag.

Suddenly, the horse became fidgety and nervous, its ears flicking back and forth. Within moments its breathing was rapid and shallow. Conveying panic.

Hanuman looked around carefully. And he caught sight of the danger.

Very slowly, without any sign of alarm, he pulled Radhika and Sita behind him.