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

Sita nodded silently.

‘It must be even more difficult because you cannot talk to anyone other than a Malayaputra about this.’

‘Yes,’ Sita smiled.

‘If you ever need any advice, or even someone to talk to, you always have me. It is my duty to protect you from now onwards. My platoon and I will always be nearby,’ said Jatayu, gesturing behind him.

Around fifteen men stood quietly at a distance.

‘I will not embarrass you by revealing myself in public, in Mithila or anywhere else,’ said Jatayu. ‘I understand that I am a Naga. But I will never be more than a few hours’ ride away. My people and I will always be your shadow from now on.’

‘You could never embarrass me, Jatayuji,’ said Sita.

‘Sita!’

The princess of Mithila looked to her left. It was Arishtanemi.

‘Sita,’ said Arishtanemi, ‘Guruji would like to have a word with you.’

‘Excuse me, Jatayuji,’ said Sita, as she folded her hands into a polite Namaste.

Jatayu returned her salutation and Sita walked away, trailing Arishtanemi. As she faded into the distance, Jatayu bent down, picked up some dust from her footprint, and touched it respectfully to his forehead. He then turned in the direction that Sita had walked.

She is such a good soul …

I hope Lady Sita does not become a pawn in the battle between Guru Vishwamitra and Guru Vashishtha.



Two months had passed. The Malayaputras had left for their capital, Agastyakootam. As instructed, Sita spent most of her free time reading texts that the chief of the Malayaputras had given her. They chronicled the lives of some of the previous Vishnus: Lord Narsimha, Lord Vaaman, Lord Parshu Ram, among others. He wanted her to learn from their lives, their challenges; and, how to overcome them and establish a new path that led to the Propagation of Good.

She took up this task with utmost seriousness and conducted it in privacy. Today, she sat by a tiny pond not frequented by other students. It was therefore with irritation that she reacted to the disturbance.

‘Bhoomi, you need to come to the main gurukul clearing right away,’ said Radhika, using Sita’s gurukul name. ‘Someone from your home is here.’

Sita waved her hand in annoyance. ‘I’ll be there, soon.’

‘Sita!’ said Radhika loudly.

Sita turned around. Her friend looked and sounded agitated.

‘Your mother is here. You need to go. Now.’



Sita walked slowly towards the main gurukul clearing. Her heart beating hard. She saw two elephants tied close to the walkway, which led to the gurukul jetty. She knew her mother liked bringing her elephants along. On Sunaina’s visits, Sita and she would go on elephant rides deep into the jungle. Sunaina loved to educate her daughter on animals in their natural habitat.

Sunaina knew more about animals than anyone Sita had met. The trips into the jungle were among Sita’s most cherished memories. For they involved the two most important entities in her life: Mother Earth and her own mother.

Pain shot through her heart.

Because of her, Kushadhwaj had imposed severe restrictions on Mithila trade. Her uncle’s kingdom, Sankashya, was the main conduit for trade with her father’s kingdom; and the prices of most commodities, even essentials, had shot through the roof. Most Mithilans blamed Sita for this. Everyone knew that she had broken Kushadhwaj’s royal seal. And, that retaliation was inevitable. According to ancient tradition, the royal seal was the representation of the king; breaking it was comparable to regicide.

The blame had also seamlessly passed on to her mother, Sunaina. For everyone knew that it was Sunaina’s decision to adopt Sita.

I have given her nothing but trouble. I have destroyed so much of what she spent her life building.

Maa should forget me.

Sita was even more convinced of her decision by the time she reached the clearing.

It was unusually crowded, even for a royal visit. Eight men were gathered around a heavy, empty palanquin. It was a palanquin she hadn’t seen before: longer and broader. It appeared to be designed so that the person travelling in it could lie down. To the left, she saw eight women crowding around a low platform built around an Ashok tree. She looked all over for her mother, but did not see her anywhere.

She moved towards the women, about to ask where her mother was. Just then, a few of them moved aside, revealing Queen Sunaina.

It knocked the wind out of Sita.

Her mother was a shadow of her former self. She had been reduced to bare skin and bones. Her round, moon-shaped face had turned gaunt, with cheeks sunken in. She had always been short and petite, but had never looked unhealthy. Now, her muscles had wasted away, and her body was stripped of the little fat she had once had. Her eyes looked hollow. Her lustrous, rich black hair had turned sparse and a ghostly white. She could barely hold herself up. She needed her aides to support her.

As soon as Sunaina saw her precious daughter, her face lit up. It was the same warm smile where Sita had always found comfort and sanctuary.

‘My child,’ said Sunaina, in a barely audible voice.

The queen of Mithila held out her hands, her deathly pallor temporarily reduced by the abundance of a mother’s love-filled heart.

Sita stood rooted to her spot. Hoping the earth would swallow her.

‘Come here, my child,’ said Sunaina. Her arms, too weak to be held up, fell on her sides.

Sunaina coughed. An aide rushed forward and wiped her mouth with a handkerchief. Specks of red appeared on the white cloth.

Sita stumbled towards her mother. Dazed. She fell to her knees and rested her head on Sunaina’s lap. One that had always been soft, like Mother Earth immediately after the rains. It was bony and hard now, like the same earth after a series of devastating droughts.

Sunaina ran her fingers through Sita’s hair.

Sita trembled in fear and sorrow, like a little sparrow about to see the fall of the mighty Banyan tree that had sheltered not just her body but also her soul.

Continuing to run her hand through Sita’s hair, Sunaina bent down, kissed her head and whispered, ‘My child …’

Sita burst out crying.



The Mithila physician-in-attendance had vehemently opposed it. Even though severely weakened, Sunaina was still a formidable creature. She would not be denied the elephant ride into the jungle with her daughter.

The physician had played his final card. He had whispered into the queen’s ear, ‘This may well be your last elephant ride, Your Highness.’

And Sunaina had replied, ‘That is precisely why I must go.’

The queen had rested in the palanquin while the two elephants were prepared for the ride. One would carry the physician and a few attendants, while the other would carry Sunaina and Sita.

When it was time, Sunaina was carried to the howdah of the seated elephant. A maid tried to clamber aboard, next to the queen.