38 years earlier, North of Trikut Hills, Deoghar, India
'Wait a minute,' whispered Sunaina, as she pulled the reins on her horse.
Janak, the king of Mithila, and his wife, Sunaina, had travelled a long way to
the Trikut Hills, nearly a hundred kilometres south of the Ganga River. They
sought to meet the legendary Kanyakumari, the Virgin Goddess. A divine child.
It was believed across the Sapt Sindhu, land of the seven rivers, that the
blessings of the Living Goddess helped all who came to her with a clean heart.
And the royal family of Mithila certainly needed Her blessings.
Mithila, founded by the great king Mithi, on the banks of the mighty Gandaki
River, was once a thriving river-port town. Its wealth was built on agriculture,
owing to its exceptionally fertile soil, as well as river trade with the rest of the
Sapt Sindhu. Unfortunately, fifteen years ago, an earthquake and subsequent
flood had changed the course of the Gandaki. It also changed the fortunes of
Mithila. The river now flowed farther to the west, by the city of Sankashya.
Ruled by Janak's younger brother Kushadhwaj, Sankashya was a nominally
subsidiary kingdom of Mithila. To add to the woes of Mithila, the rains had
failed repeatedly for a few years after the change of Gandaki's course.
Mithila's loss was Sankashya's gain. Kushadhwaj rapidly rose in stature as the
de facto representative of the clan of Mithi.
Many had suggested that King Janak should invest some of the old wealth of
Mithila in an engineering project to redirect the Gandaki back to its old course.
But Kushadhwaj had advised against it. He had argued that it made little sense
to spend money on such a massive engineering project. After all, why waste
money to take the river from Sankashya to Mithila, when the wealth of
Sankashya was ultimately Mithila's.
Janak, a devout and spiritual man, had adopted a philosophical approach to
his kingdom's decline in fortune. But the new queen, Sunaina, who had married
Janak just two years earlier, was not the idle sort. She planned to restoreMithila to its old glory. And a big part of that plan was to restore the old course
of the Gandaki. But after so many years, it had become difficult to find logical
reasons to justify the costly and difficult engineering project.
When logic fails, faith can serve a purpose.
Sunaina had convinced Janak to accompany her to the temple of the
Kanyakumari and seek her blessings. If the Child Goddess approved of the
Gandaki project, even Kushadhwaj would find it difficult to argue against it.
Not just the Mithilans, but many across the length and breadth of India believed
the Kanyakumari's word to be that of the Mother Goddess Herself.
Unfortunately, the Kanyakumari had said no. 'Respect the judgement of nature,'
she had said.
It was a disappointed Sunaina and a philosophical Janak, along with their
royal guard, who were travelling north from the Trikut Hills now, on their way
home to Mithila.
'Janak!' Sunaina raised her voice. Her husband had ridden ahead without
slowing.
Janak pulled his horse's reins and looked back. His wife pointed wordlessly
to a tree in the distance. Janak followed her direction. A few hundred metres
away, a pack of wolves had surrounded a solitary vulture. They were trying to
close in and were being pushed back repeatedly by the huge bird. The vulture
was screaming and squawking. A vulture's squawk is naturally mournful; but
this one sounded desperate.
Sunaina looked closely. It was an unfair fight. There were six wolves,
weaving in and out, attacking the vulture in perfect coordination. But the brave
bird stood its ground, pushing them back repeatedly. The aggressors were
gradually drawing close. A wolf hit the vulture with its claws, drawing blood.
Why isn't it flying away?
Sunaina began to canter towards the fight, intrigued. Her bodyguards
followed at a distance.
'Sunaina …' cautioned her husband, staying where he was, holding his
horse's reins tight.
Suddenly, using the distraction of the vulture with another attack from the
left, a wolf struck with lethal effect. It charged in from the right and bit the
bird's left wing brutally. Getting a good hold, the wolf pulled back hard, trying
to drag the vulture away. The bird squawked frantically. Its voice sounding like
a wail. But it held strong. It did not move, pulling back with all its strength.
However, the wolf had strong jaws and a stronger grip. Blood burst forth like a
fountain. The wolf let go, spitting parts of the severed wing as it stepped back.
Sunaina spurred her horse and began to gallop towards the scene. She hadexpected the vulture to escape through the opening the two wolves had
provided. But, surprisingly, it stood in place, pushing another wolf back.
Use the opening! Get away!
Sunaina was speeding towards the animals now. The royal bodyguards drew
their swords and raced after their queen. A few fell back with the king.
'Sunaina!' said Janak, worried about his wife's safety. He spurred his horse,
but he was not the best of riders. His horse blithely continued its slow trot.
Sunaina was perhaps fifty metres away when she noticed the bundle for the
first time. The vulture was protecting it from the pack of wolves. It was lodged
in what looked like a little furrow in the dry mud.
The bundle moved.
'By the great Lord Parshu Ram!' exclaimed Sunaina. 'That's a baby!'
Sunaina pressed forward, rapidly goading her horse into a fierce gallop.
As she neared the pack of wolves, she heard the soft, frantic cries of a
human baby, almost drowned out by the howling animals.
'Hyaah!' screamed Sunaina. Her bodyguards rode close behind.
The wolves turned tail and scampered into the woods as the mounted riders
thundered towards the wounded bird. A guard raised his sword to strike the
vulture.
'Wait!' ordered Sunaina, raising her right hand.
He stopped in his tracks as his fellow bodyguards reined their horses to a
halt.
Sunaina was raised in a land to the east of Branga. Her father was from
Assam, sometimes called by its ancient name, Pragjyotisha, the land of Eastern
Light. And her mother belonged to Mizoram, the land of the High People of
Ram. Devotees of the sixth Vishnu, Lord Parshu Ram, the Mizos were fierce
warriors. But they were most well known for their instinctive understanding of
animals and the rhythms of nature.
Sunaina intuitively knew that the 'bundle' was not food for the vulture, but a
responsibility to be protected.
'Get me some water,' ordered Sunaina, as she dismounted her horse.
One of the guards spoke up as the group dismounted. 'My Lady, is it safe for
you to …'
Sunaina cut him short with a withering look. The queen was short and petite.
Her round, fair-complexioned face conveyed gentleness to the observer. But
her small eyes betrayed the steely determination that was the core of her being.
She repeated softly, 'Get me some water.'
'Yes, My Lady.'
A bowl filled with water appeared in an instant.
Sunaina locked her eyes with the vulture's. The bird was breathing heavily,
exhausted by its battle with the wolves. It was covered in blood from the
numerous wounds on its body. The wound on its wing was especially alarming,
blood gushing out of it at a frightening rate. Loss of blood made it unsteady on
its feet. But the vulture refused to move, its eyes fixed on Sunaina. It was
squawking aggressively, thrusting its beak forward. Striking the air with its
talons to keep the Queen of Mithila away.
Sunaina pointedly ignored the bundle behind the vulture. Focused on the
massive bird, she began to hum a soft, calming tune. The vulture seemed to
ease a bit. It withdrew its talons. The squawking reduced in volume and
intensity.
Sunaina crept forward. Gently. Slowly. Once close, she bowed her head and
submissively placed the bowl of water in front of the bird. Then she crept back
just as slowly. She spoke in a mellifluous voice. 'I have come to help … Trust
me …'
The dumb beast understood the tone of the human. It bent to sip some water,
but instead, collapsed to the ground.
Sunaina rushed forward and cradled the head of the now prone bird,
caressing it gently. The child, wrapped in a rich red cloth with black stripes,
was crying desperately. She signalled a soldier to pick up the precious bundle
as she continued to soothe the bird.
$$$$$$
What a beautiful baby,' cooed Janak, as he bent his tall, wiry frame and edged
close to his wife, his normally wise but detached eyes full of love and attention.
Janak and Sunaina sat on temporarily set up chairs. The baby slept
comfortably in Sunaina's arms, swaddled in a soft cotton cloth. A massive
umbrella shaded them from the scorching sun. The royal doctor had examined
the baby, and bandaged a wound on her right temple with some herbs and neem
leaves. He had assured the royal couple that the scar would largely disappear
with time. Along with the other physician, the doctor now tended to the
vulture's wounds.
'She's probably just a few months old. She must be strong to have survived
this ordeal,' said Sunaina, gently rocking the baby in her arms.
'Yes. Strong and beautiful. Just like you.'
Sunaina looked at her husband and smiled as she caressed the baby's head.
'How can anyone abandon a child like her?'
Janak sighed. 'Many people are not wise enough to count life's blessings.They keep focusing instead on what the world has denied them.'
Sunaina nodded at her husband and turned her attention back to the child.
'She sleeps like an angel.'
'That she does,' said Janak.
Sunaina pulled the baby up close and kissed her gently on the forehead,
careful to avoid the injured area.
Janak patted his wife's back warmly. 'But are you sure, Sunaina?'
'Yes. This baby is ours. Devi Kanyakumari may not have given us what we
wanted. But she has blessed us with something much better.'
'What will we call her?'
Sunaina looked up at the sky and drew in a deep breath. She had a name in
mind already. She turned to Janak. 'We found her in a furrow in Mother Earth.
It was like a mother's womb for her. We will call her Sita.'
$$$$
Sunaina rushed into Janak's private office. Reclining in an easy chair, the king
of Mithila was reading the text of the Jabali Upanishad. It was a treatise on
wisdom by the great Maharishi Satyakam Jabali. Shifting attention to his wife,
he put down the text. 'So, has the Emperor won?'
It had been five years since Sita had entered their lives.
'No,' said a bewildered Sunaina, 'he lost.'
Janak sat up straight, stunned. 'Emperor Dashrath lost to a trader from
Lanka?'
'Yes. Raavan has almost completely massacred the Sapt Sindhu Army at
Karachapa. Emperor Dashrath barely escaped with his life.'
'Lord Rudra be merciful,' whispered Janak.
'There's more. Queen Kaushalya, the eldest wife of the Emperor, gave birth
to a son on the day that he lost the Battle of Karachapa. And now, many are
blaming the little boy for the defeat. Saying that he's an ill omen. For the
Emperor had never lost a battle till this boy was born.'
'What nonsense!' said Janak. 'How can people be so stupid?'
'The little boy's name is Ram. Named after the sixth Vishnu, Lord Parshu
Ram.'
'Let's hope it's lucky for him. Poor child.'
'I am more concerned about the fate of Mithila, Janak.'
Janak sighed helplessly. 'What do you think will happen?'
Sunaina had been governing the kingdom practically singlehandedly, of late.
Janak was spending more and more time lost in the world of philosophy. Thequeen had become increasingly popular in the kingdom. Many believed that
she had been lucky for Mithila. For the rains had poured down in all their
glory every year since she had come to the city as King Janak's wife.
'I am worried about security,' said Sunaina.
'And what about money?' asked Janak. 'Don't you think Raavan will enforce
his trade demands on all the kingdoms? Money will flow out of the Sapt
Sindhu into Lanka's coffers.'
'But we hardly trade these days. He cannot demand anything from us. The
other kingdoms have a lot more to lose. I am more worried about the
decimation of the armies of the Sapt Sindhu. Lawlessness will increase
everywhere. How safe can we be if the entire land falls into chaos?'
'True.'
A thought crossed Janak's mind. Who can prevent that which is written by
Fate, be it of people or of countries? Our task is but to understand, not fight,
what must be; and learn the lessons for our next life. Or prepare for moksha.
But he knew Sunaina disliked 'helplessness'. So he remained silent.
The queen continued, 'I did not expect Raavan to win.'
Janak laughed. 'It's all very well to be a victor. But the vanquished get more
love from their women!'
Sunaina narrowed her eyes and stared at Janak. Not impressed by her
husband's attempt at wit. 'We must make some plans, Janak. We must be ready
for the inevitable.'
Janak was tempted to respond with another humorous remark. Wisdom
dictated restraint.
'I trust you completely. You'll think of something, I'm sure,' smiled Janak,
as he turned his attention back to the Jabali Upanishad.