Dashaanan’s palace overlooked the verandah where Sita spent her days, seated at the crotch of the Ashoka tree. He frequently watched her. I was desperate to protect her from Dashaanan’s overtures. Trijata was my only confidante. Her health indisposed her to serve at the palace; she had to be sent for whenever her assistance or presence was needed. When I told her about Sita, she was shocked to hear that my child had survived and was none other than Rama’s wife. She remembered the time twenty-six years ago when I had lost my daughter to ill-fated circumstances. She had lost her child too. Thrilled and surprised to learn Sita’s true identity, she took up the task of protecting her like her own daughter.
Trijata watched over Sita like a hawk. Her presence amidst the grim female guards brought some, if only a little, solace to Sita. The eight months of Sita’s internment felt like eight years. My hope waned with each passing day but Sita’s faith in Rama never wavered. She knew he would rescue her. Dashaanan seemed to cross off the days to a year. He summoned the navagraha deities again, suspecting time to be unfavourable to him. Also, on his mind was the question of his future sovereign stability if he married again.
Dashaanan had addressed Sita only twice since he had brought her to Lanka. I was thankful for his restraint, the cautious distance he kept from her. Sita grew to love Trijata like a mother. She told her about her life as a little girl in Mithila, about Rama and their lives in exile. I had not known my own daughter. I did not have that privilege even now; all I could do was stand by as she waited helplessly for Rama.
An intruder had circumvented security and made it into Ashokavanam. A gong was struck as a warning sign. This was the first time Lanka’s security had been breached. Amidst the panic, a meeting of family members was convened. We had to take action. It was as if riots had broken out in the city. I went to Dashaanan; he was having an intense discussion with Meghanath and Prahasta.
‘My lord, what is the commotion about? Is there really an intruder in Lanka?’ I asked.
‘Yes, Matashri, a supposed compatriot of our hostage has managed to get in,’ said Meghanath.
‘Is Sita safe?’
‘Sita is safe. The intruder did not harm her, but he destroyed almost half the trees in that garden when the guards tried to arrest him,’ said Dashaanan.
‘My lord, has he been arrested?’
‘Not yet, Mandodari, we will soon . . . ’
‘Pitashri Lankesh, I have identified the intruder! He is a vanara,’ our youngest son, Akshayakumara, reported as he rushed in with guards in tow.
‘A vanara! Are you sure? Why would a vanara trespass into Lanka?’ asked Dashaanan.
‘I am sure, Pitashri! If you allow me, I shall arrest him and get him here,’ said Akshayakumara.
‘Go ahead then. Get him here!’ ordered Dashaanan, and Akshayakumara left for the mission.
‘Bhrata Dashaanan, the king of the vanara tribe is your friend. Why would a vanara mean any harm to us? I suppose it’s a mistake . . . ’ suggested Vibhishana.
‘A female guard at Ashokavanam saw that vanara talking to Sita. She alerted the other guards but in the meantime he escaped. We are not sure why he was talking to Sita. Vanaras are our friends but this one has caused a lot of destruction, also injured our guards,’ explained Meghanath.
I was concerned about Sita’s safety. Dashaanan instructed the soldiers to search for any other intruders. The palace and the antapura were under strict surveillance; the main gates were sealed until further notice and soldiers made sure that every building in the city was well searched.
While this was done, Akshayakumara was reported as injured by the guards. Reportedly, he led our soldiers at Ashokavanam to arrest the intruder; however, he was crushed under a huge tree and soon fell unconscious. I panicked. Nanashri rushed to arrange a physician for him. Dashaanan was furious about the situation. He then ordered Meghanath to arrest the intruder, alive or dead.
Meghanath followed his father’s orders and took command of Ashokavanam. We witnessed his mission from the palace corridors. We saw Sita walking around unharmed, though anxious about the whole situation. On the other side of Ashokavanam, we saw a monkey-like tall man climbing the trees and trying to escape. He carried a metal mace on his shoulder; he was muscular and bulky. And as rightly identified by Akshayakumara, he was a vanara as he sported a long tail attached to his attire. Meghanath used various weapons to catch him.
This was the first time I saw Meghanath attack or fight. However, this was not a great show of his skill; the vanara dodged every attempt Meghanath made to nab him. Dashaanan grew even more furious and yelled at Meghanath to kill him at once. Meghanath took a different arrow this time, invoked a mantra to greet the weapon with respect—I knew it was the deadly Brahmastra—stretched his string and shot at the vanara. Surprisingly, the intruder did not die. He was affected by the blow, but stood unharmed; back on his feet. Then, finally he surrendered himself to Meghanath.
He was presented at court for interrogation. Everyone was keen to take a closer look at him; his arms and torso were tied together with ropes. He appeared bulky and enormous, wearing only a dhoti; he looked at us eagerly.
‘Who are you, vanara? How did you get here? And how dare you trespass into our garden?’ asked Nanashri.
‘I am Hanuman. On the orders of my lord shri Rama, I came here searching for janani devi Sita. I have found her.’ He answered and everyone present at court was stunned.
‘You are a vanara. The king of your tribe at Kiskinda is a friend. How did he allow you to carry out the commands of Rama?’ asked Dashaanan.
‘I regret to inform you all that Lanka’s so-called friend Vali has been defeated by his twin brother Sugreeva. King Sugreeva has now taken command,’ said Hanuman and the crowd started murmuring. Some shouted, ‘My lord, he is a spy!’
‘So you have come to spy on us!’ said Nanashri.
‘I came looking for janani devi Sita who has been kept confined here! I came to deliver a message to her from my lord shri Rama,’ said Hanuman.
‘What is the message? Tell us,’ asked Dashaanan.
‘Shri Rama says he will soon slay the monster who dared to touch devi Sita! He will burn the kingdom that held her hostage and his wrath will set such an example that no one will attempt anything like this ever again,’ declared Hanuman.
A chill ran down my spine. Dashaanan smirked at Hanuman. ‘That is very interesting. We await your lord Rama here. If he wishes to set his wife free, he and Lakshmana can surrender to me. I am that monster who abducted Sita. I will avenge my people whom he brutally killed and ensure that no sister ever goes through this ignominy again.’
Hanuman smiled arrogantly, ‘Surrender! You must be foolish to imagine something like that from prabhu Rama.’
‘Mind your tongue, vanara! You are standing in front of Lankapati Ravana. Choose your words carefully. I will not hesitate to burn your daring tongue,’ shouted Meghanath.
‘I say you choose your actions wisely. There is still time; return devi Sita to prabhu Rama respectfully and ask for his forgiveness. He is kind-hearted . . . ’
‘Dare not utter as much as a word more or else we will finish you right here!’ shouted Nanashri.
‘Enough!’ Dashaanan called for order. ‘We are wasting time. Put him in prison.’
Hanuman let out a loud laugh. He breathed deeply. The ropes around him unspooled and fell to the floor. Deliberately mocking, he proclaimed, ‘I am Pawan-putra Hanuman. I need not brag, but I would like to see who can imprison me.’ He pointed at Meghanath: ‘I chose to honour the Brahmastra by submitting to him. If you think you can hold me captive this easily . . . ’
‘I think he is mayavi. We should convey a warning to Rama. Let him go, my lord,’ suggested Vibhishana.
‘Have you lost your mind?’ asked Dashaanan outraged. ‘We cannot stand by and be humiliated. He injured my son and threatened me in my own court. How can we let him go?’
Vibhishana spoke softly so only Dashaanan could hear him. �
�He has proven to be slippery. Meghanath employed the Brahmastra and he still stands unharmed. His looks are deceptive. He is a mayavi. If we take him captive, we may risk more destruction to our property.’
Dashaanan remained stubborn. ‘I don’t care. Arrest him and take him away.’
Vibhishana stood back, defeated. He turned to Nanashri and whispered something. They nodded in agreement. Nanashri intervened, ‘My lord Lankesh, let us teach him a lesson. I suggest we consider him a messenger. We cannot incarcerate him then but we must punish his transgression.’
Dashaanan understood the advantage of Nanashri’s suggested course. ‘What punishment do you suggest, Nanashri?’ he asked.
‘A vanara’s tail is his pride. I say we burn it. He will leave Lanka in shame. That will be our response to his people for the devastation they have caused us.’ Twenty soldiers pinioned Hanuman down on his knees. He did not resist. It was a spectacle, almost like a performance put up for entertainment.
As soon as his tail was set alight, he shoved away the soldiers forcefully. The court recoiled. He took his mace, chanted ‘Jai shri Rama!’ and ran out, hitting the guards in the process. It was mayhem. Soldiers chased him and we all looked incredulously on. He leapt from building to building, setting ablaze everything in his wake. Soldiers scrambled after him, torn between capturing him and extinguishing the Lanka they had pledged to defend. We knew neither how he came nor how he left. We were struck with disbelief. Some claimed they saw him fly away with the help of a device around him. We hurried out. The fire was spreading rapidly. Our palaces, fountains, buildings and gardens were turning to ash in front of us, the gold that gilded them melting. Dashaanan left the scene, unable to see such destruction.
We had not anticipated the ruin a single vanara could bring.
Meghanath and the younger brothers—Prahasta, Atikaya and Trishir—took charge. They sent family and ministers indoors until the crisis was averted. The fire was doused; hurt soldiers taken for treatment and the damages calculated. Narantaka and Devantaka took care of the battalion. Borders were secured. Any trespasser henceforth was to be killed on sight. We avoided each other’s eyes, at a loss for words. I stood in the corridor, watching Lanka blacken with smoke. A day of dark events, I saw the sun set into a darker evening.
The next morning, Dashaanan gave orders to repair his kingdom. He could not bear to see what he had so painstakingly built be reduced to dust. Physicians attended tirelessly to Akshayakumara but he remained unconscious. His head injury was severe. Dashaanan monitored his progress. I spent two days beside him, praying for him to wake up. He never did. He passed away in his sleep on the third day. There is no greater agony than watching your child die. Our youngest son was taken out of vengeance. I could not eat. I lay sleepless at night, benumbed by the loss of Akshayakumara. I knew people around me were trying to talk to me but I could not hear them. Three days later, arrangements for his funeral were made; the pyre set up. Akshayakumara’s head lay in Dashaanan’s lap and he leaned into it, howling with grief. I finally let myself cry. I touched his face, the wounds on his forehead. Dashaanan, Meghanath and the other brothers lit his pyre.
We mourned for thirteen days. We ate one meal a day. I saw the sun rise and set from my chambers. Why had the gods been so unfair to me? My daughter was estranged from me. I had left her all those years ago and she had found her way back to me. Even then I could not love her like her mother. Then Meghanath, who is more his father’s son than mine. Worst of all, the loss of Akshayakumara, my youngest, in a ridiculous battle. Was this to be my fate as a queen?
It took us a fortnight to resume our duties at court. Buildings had been restored to their original condition, fountains repaired and gardens replanted. Akshayakumara’s empty seat was the only, and most important, thing we could not restore. We gathered at court to honour his bravery and service. I saw the emptiness our other children felt. In my grief, I had ignored the loss Dashaanan and the other princes had endured. Dhanyamalini and Nayanadini too. In all the years of Dashaanan’s reign, no other day had been mourned this way. Sita was held responsible. I stayed quiet. I did not want my firstborn to be blamed for my youngest son’s death.
While others blamed her, Vibhishana held Dashaanan accountable. Something in him had changed. Amidst the condolatory remarks, Vibhishana spoke up.
‘Bhrata Lankesh, accept my sincere condolences for your loss. We have mourned for our youngest prince but the grief of recent tragic events hasn’t palliated. Who is responsible for this catastrophe, my lord? Don’t you think the gods are angry at us for holding that woman captive? This seems like retribution!’ said Vibhishana. We were shocked. The ministers started murmuring amongst themselves.
‘What is wrong with you? This is not the time or place . . .’ Nanashri nudged Vibhishana.
Dashaanan interrupted, ‘Let him talk, Nanashri. I want to hear what he has to say.’ Sarama, who sat amongst the ladies, looked frightened by the brewing tension between the brothers.
‘I will not say much, bhrata Lankesh, I never have. Akshayakumara was innocent and died because of our decisions.’
Dashaanan grew grave. ‘What do you have to say? Say it clearly!’
‘Pardon me, my lord. Adversity followed this kingdom from the day you abducted Sita and brought her here. Nothing since then has been peaceful. Look at what that vanara was capable of. Think about what will happen when Rama and Lakshmana will reach Lanka? Are we so unworthy that we couldn’t contain a vanara? No, my lord, this is because of that woman who we have held hostage. Release her or else we risk losing everything we have today.’
‘I don’t believe these are your words, Vibhishana. I was not the one who started this battle. They did by mistreating our sister. And it is her we seek to avenge. You think yourself wise for suggesting Sita’s release? Where was this wisdom when we were planning our revenge? Where was your bravery when our sister was beating her chest with grief? You stand today to accuse me, but where was your judgement when that vanara stood in our court and you didn’t let me arrest him!’
‘I hold myself responsible for what happened. But I suggest you eliminate the root of these circumstances now. Release Sita and end this.’
‘You speak not with wisdom but cowardice, Vibhishana!’ shouted Dashaanan. ‘Because you are my brother, I spare you the punishment for such violation at court. I granted you the freedom to speak, but do not forget that I am still your king. Learn to take a firm stand, brother; had you been in my position, you would have failed this regency with your instability years ago!’ Vibhishana lowered his face and remained silent.
How times had changed. After all that Dashaanan had given for his kingdom, his own brother and sister were displeased with him. His sister had pointed a finger at him for killing her husband, who had been nothing but a traitor and liability, and now his brother, who had always been sheltered by Dashaanan, had had the nerve to criticize him in open court.
Gradually, we learnt about other losses. The vanara had destroyed our ports, took away or scattered our devices at the astronomy tower. Shani deva, one of the navagraha gurus, went missing that day. He was not to be found anywhere, believed to have escaped when the city was burning. The other navagraha gurus assembled to guide Dashaanan as per their astrological predictions. Dashaanan was advised to initiate nothing new for the next six months. He waited impatiently for the stasis to end.
I had not seen Sita after Akshayakumara’s death. Trijata conveyed her condolences. I couldn’t decide on an appropriate response. She was the reason Hanuman had come to Lanka. He had been capable of rescuing Sita. Why hadn’t he? The thought pressed ominously on me. Why hadn’t Sita stopped him as he tore down our city and my son?
There were so many loose ends, questions left unanswered. Nine months had gone by. The deadline given to Sita loomed closer. I wondered if Dashaanan still wanted to marry her, after all that had happened. Rama’s absence could not be explained. It was time for Dashaanan to know the truth. ‘Your majesty, the king
has summoned you to court.’ My thoughts were interrupted by a dasi.
‘Is everything all right?’ I walked into the court. A discussion was going on. Dashaanan waited for me.
‘Sit, we will know,’ said Dashaanan and gestured a minister to speak. The minister, Mahaparshva, had recently been promoted as one of the chief generals of the army.
‘My lord,’ he began. ‘We saw their army. It is huge. There were vanara people, troops of monkeys trained for labour, boats, cattle, and they have set up their camps on the southern shores of Bharatvarsh. They are certainly planning an attack,’ said Mahaparshva.
‘Pardon me, my lord, but whose army is he talking about?’ I asked Dashaanan softly.
‘Rama and Lakshmana. Our ministers were sailing back after a trade in Bharatvarsh. Near the port, they saw vanara men in a camp based at the shore,’ answered Dashaanan.
‘So Rama and Lakshmana are with the vanaras at their camp?’ I asked the minister, trying to connect the dots.
‘I am afraid it is the other way round, your majesty. We followed the vanara men without getting noticed and enquired nearby. We were told that two princes from Ayodhya—Rama and Lakshmana—along with their allies from the vanara tribe, headed by Kiskinda king Sugreeva, have set up camp at the shore, planning on ways to cross the ocean with their army and troops.’
The court erupted in whispers. Dashaanan remained silent, stoic but for a furrowed brow.
Nanashri came forward and said, ‘We should probably send a spy or another army in-charge who can give us exact details.’
‘The information sounds reliable; Mahaparshva knows what he is reporting,’ said Dashaanan.
‘Pitashri, if you allow me to, I can travel with a few soldiers and enquire further,’ said Meghanath.
‘No, I need you here.’
‘One of us can go,’ volunteered Atikaya, who stood up with the other brothers.
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