Sita's Sister

THE SWAYAMVAR Pt-3

Recap-

And saying his last, lingering words, he stormed out, leaving behind a pall of gloom.The mighty Ravan having been defeated, many disheartened kings followed suit and quietly left the raj sabha without daring a chance.....

                                    ~

Now continuing-

'Shall we begin again?' said Janak, requesting the others to be seated. 'The man who strings this extraordinary bow shall win my daughter's hand in marriage. Only then...' There was a stern note of warning in his words.

Many kings, princes and nobles obliged and attempted lifting the bow. None could push it even an inch. All returned to their seats, mortified and defeated. 'I have been saying this over and over again that the terms of this swayamvar are simply unattainable!' Mandavi broke in agitatedly. 'By now at least thirty princes must have tried their luck...even the powerful Ravan couldn't do it!'. 'Mercifully,' retorted Kirti. 'Did you see how he looked at Sita? And Urmila? He is an ogre, that man!'

'But that doesn't moderate our predicament, does it?' snapped Mandavi. 'Who on earth will be able to lift that bow?' .'The lucky man,' Urmila said sharply. 'And he will be able to do the impossible.Don't worry, just watch on...'

Her assurances were principally for her mother whose eyes turned bleaker as each defeated suitor walked wearily back to his seat. Sunaina's worst fears were getting confirmed—there was no one good enough to marry her daughter.

There was a mounting sense of anger and frustration in the raj sabha as well.'Is your daughter so unique that you have set upon us this impossible task?' asked one prince, heatedly. 'I agree to what Ravan claimed — that if not Princess Sita, we are ready to marry your other daughter!''...or the nieces.'

' O king, your stipulation for this swayamvar is absolutely hopeless and you well knew it was certain to fail. You are insulting our pride, our respect, our capability! If notyour elder daughter, we demand that we be allowed to choose the other princesses in marriage instead!''Yes!' yelled another in agreement.

'I want to marry Princess Urmila!' a shout was heard from the crowd.

The strident voices joined as a furious refrain, the uproar deafening. Urmila felt a cold shiver run down her spine; the situation was fast getting critical.She could think of no way of diffusing the latent hostility; nor any measure to protect herself from the antagonistic suitors. How was she going to save herself from this impending predicament? But seeing her father's wan face, her trepidation was replaced by swift indignation. She knew she would have to battle it alone—for herself and her sisters. 

There was a rush of movement and Urmila saw the man who had occupied her heart,thoughts, passion and emotion for all these days getting up slowly, his hand at the scabbard of his sword, his face a dark mask of cold fury — Lakshman.

'What sort of a swayamvar is this where the princesses are being humiliated at every step?' he started heatedly. He walked forward, turning on each king who had chorused the hostile din earlier. He looked like a prowling lion, circling his victims.

'O kings and princes, you are honoured guests invited by King Janak for his elder daughter's swayamwar. But where is your sense of honour that you speak so disrespectfully, so rashly? And before you declare anything, there is still another suitor who has not had a chance to show his skills yet. Pray, kings, let me introduce all of youto my brother, Prince Ram of Ayodhya, the eldest son of King Dashratha!'

There was an abrupt silence and the irate protests of the kings died down suddenly as Ram stood up. He bowed to Vishwamitra to seek his blessings and walked towards the bow. He saluted Janak to obtain his permission and finally he bowed to the queen and the princesses.

The room was eerily still with all eyes on the young prince in hopeful anticipation.Ram peered into the iron case and touched the bow reverently. With his right hand, he clasped the bow at the centre and gently pulled and picked it up as if it were a delicate garland of flowers. An immediate image of the slight, small Sita holding the bow in her right hand flashed through Urmila's elated mind.

Lifting it high, Ram proceeded to rest one end of the bow against his big toe; he bent it and strung it, quickly drawing the string back. Urmila heard Sita gasp with unsuppressed delight and saw Ram throw Sita a long, exultant look. Probably he was distracted, his focus momentarily diverted or he had under-estimated his strength but with a swift, overpowering force, he pulled at the bow and it snapped like a dry branch with a booming clap like a flashing thunder streak.

Urmila could not describe the expression on Sita's face. It was luminous; her eyes softly glowing and the small, shy smile radiating her enormous, irrepressible joy.As the high-ceilinged raj sabha broke into a happy pandemonium, a visibly ecstatic Sunaina brought out the pooja thali. 

Urmila knew her mother had been very worried for the past several weeks about Sita. She had forever had severe misgivings about the clause her husband had decided upon but she scarcely showed her growing scepticism to the girls. Was there such an exceptional man who would be able to string the intimidating Rudra bow and marry her exceptional daughter? She had got her answer at last. He was standing there in person,tall, fair and handsome. Ram, the prince of Ayodhya. Her worries had vanished and she meant to celebrate. She took the pooja thali from Urmila's hand and smeared vermilionon Ram's forehead.

'God bless you,' was all she could murmur through her glistening tears. Sunaina was not an emotional woman and the tears rushing out dispelled a disquietude that had wracked her all these long years. She had lived in the constant anxiety that Sita would be rejected because she was a foundling; that she would be spurned on social grounds.And that is why she had doubled her efforts to assimilate Sita into the royal fabric and had declared her as Janaki, the daughter of Janak, and Vaidehi, the princess of Videha.

Urmila, like any jealous child, had initially been resentful of this favoured show of affection but her mother had taken her aside and explained the new reality to her.

Sita was the adopted child, her elder sister and she was never to be allowed to feel socially or emotionally bereft. But she loved her as much and even more and she was never to forget that too. Urmila had been all of seven years of age when she had been so informed and from that day, she had bid goodbye to childhood and grown up suddenly to a wiser maturity. Sita was her sister, not her competitor....

                                     *** 

Sorry for the late update... 

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JAY SIYA RAM !!!