The Hindu God is absolute and unlimited, and because he is infinite and formless, he can take many shapes as Gods; thus, Hinduism has many gods of different qualities. Typically, God has three physical visions: Brahma the Creator, Vishnu the Preserver, and Shiva the Destroyer. Then there are three hundred earthly Gods.
The Hundi time divided into eras of time:
The animals lived in the first time (Satyuga) of greatest Dharma;
The second time (Dwapar Yuga) of great Dharma;
Ramayana, the epic poem written in the third time (Treta Yuga) of less Dharma;
***We live in the fourth time (Kalyuga) and that has no Dharma and the world ends. "Our present time is a Kali Yuga, which started at 3102 BCE with the end of the Mahabharata." from Poet RAkeshNeGi.
Holding my hands to the heavens, for delivery of Sita's story I ask the permission from:
Narada, the heavenly poet of Brahma's mind;
Vishnu, the preserver of the worlds, who becomes Rama to destroy the ten-headed evil Daemon Ravana;
Lakshmi, Goddess of Good Fortune, who becomes Sita, the beautiful, faithful, and loyal wife of Rama;
Prithivi, Earth Mother, from whom the Shakti energies of Deva dwell;
I ask your guidance to tell Sita's story.
Rama, Rama, the dutiful son,
Sita, Sita, the faithful wife,
Ravana, Ravana, the ten-head twenty-armed daemon,
Let the story be told.
Sita travels in a beautiful carriage of gold paint and carving of elephants, lions, and a large flying bird. All her belonging wrapped in colorful silks are packed in baskets and carved wooden boxes. She quietly sits by the old charioteer, whose face is as sad as Sita's.
They speak not a word.
The carriage stops by the Ganges River. The old charioteer helps Queen Sita to the sand. She has known him since she became Rama's wife. He escorts her to a boat and loads inside all her belongings. Silently he paddles the boat across the river to the hermit, Valmiki.
Sita's belongings are unloaded on the beach. Sita cries as old charioteer helps her to the beach. He bows to his queen, kisses her feet and leaves.
The heavenly poet, Narada, floats by Sita singing:
"Rama, Rama is an earthly man. Loyal Sita serves his will."
Sita watches the heavenly poet sing to awaken the hermit, who meditates in an ant pile on the sand of the beach. The heavenly poet, Narada says, "Get up, Valmiki! Come out!"
The old poet hermit awakes from his meditation. "Too cold."
"Don't make trouble."
"The name of the honest man."
"Rama, King of Ayodhya, of the solar race, a descendant of the sun. His wife left abandoned on your beach. Unless you comfort her, she will drown in the Ganges and kill her babies. Rama saved her from evil deeds of Daemon Ravana, now he forgets he is Vishnu. She is blameless. Because his people talk, he lets her go. Save her life. Let her live. She is lost. Brahma said you are to serve Sita, she knows Rama's story."
Then Sita watches Brahma stand by the poet and hand Valmiki a bowl of water, "Valmiki, use the water for inspiration. Light a fire for Angi, the Fire God, this will help pure Sita tell the story of the Ramayana.
"I have no compassion, Brahma."
"Yes, you do, Valmiki. Why do you sit in the sand and meditate? Write this so all can hear. Your words will defeat time."
Valmiki shakes the sand from himself. He walks over to Sita. "My child, what is all this?"
"King Rama sent me into abandonment. He forgets that the great Angi, the Fire God, said I am pure. He is afraid of the gossip from the court. They whisper that my twins are Daemon Ravana's."
Valmiki takes Sita into his hermitage for his wife to console and help her in the birthing her twin sons. Rama is their father.
RING, RING, RING!
Sita, the beautiful, faithful, loyal wife of Rama, Loyal Sita serves him with her heart.
——— #### ———
© This version of 'Sita Abandoned' is mine. Please respect the Hindu's Ramayana - always give credit for the resources, see part *20 - Bibliography for Ramayana.
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ASIAN STORIESHistorical Fiction
Daily in April will be posted a written story: 'How Dragons Shaped China'; the Hindu Ramayana from SITA's point of view; and from Korea, 'Taming of Tiger'; from my days of telling verbal stories at the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco. These tradi...