A page from Sita’s Diary

Last Night, the clouds greyed, swelled, and poured. Heavily. With that, whatever was I holding back with the leftover strength, came crashing down. Hitting the surface with memories of the past: childhood, love, and the chase.

Separation has never caused me much grief. I learned from a very young age to live without luxuries like palaces, family, and fame. But what grieves me is my own imagination- His desolate eyes, void expressions, sunken shoulders, volatile heart- Rama’s Broken face.

If the rain had fallen on our little Kutiya as well, Rama would have soaked in it all night. He had a duty to protect me, he would say. What he would never mention is his love for me which forced him to let go of his duty and chase the golden deer in the first place.

Strangely, the lush green beauty of Lanka reminds me of my native land, Mithila! I still remember, my father would throw his arms out wide, laughing, while I ran and jumped into his protective embrace. My mother watched us from a distance. Always having my back but never telling me so.

“She is a witch” I once heard a maid call me by that name. My mother assuaged me at night, explaining my relationship with the divine as “Healing”.

I remember even Rama telling me that I am a healer. My presence is enough to cure him of all his woes, he said.

With Sita gone, who will take away his pains!

On my Swayamvar, came kings from around the world. Rama was just a little boy! But, he managed to achieve what even the most celebrated.. the so-called learned and powerful men couldn’t. This thought fills me with hope.

A hope to go back to my home. Someday. Perhaps. Not where there is glory, jewels, and a kingdom waiting to crown us. But to our humble abode, sitting in the rain, next to Rama.

After all, when he shall be the king, he would have to place duty above love. And no woman likes to share her place!