The Sitayana

By Pria Gokhale

The Ramayana is an ancient Sanskrit epic which tells the story of its titular hero, Rama, as he embarks on a quest to rescue his wife Sita from the clutches of a demon king, Ravana. Found in a furrow as an abandoned child, Sita is popularly referred to as the daughter of Bhumi, or Mother Earth. The Sitayana retells the epic from Sita’s perspective, giving voice to one of the many women who populate the world of the Ramayana with a rich, worthy story of their own. In this version, we experience the story’s fabled tribulations through the only character who endures kidnapping and imprisonment at the hands of the villain, but also Agni Pariksha, a test of purity by fire, at the hands of our beloved hero. In her fight against Ravana and Rama, Sita’s inner nature and relationship with the earth are both fundamentally altered. In spite of all she is forced to endure, she removes herself from the unrelenting subjection by blossoming into a bolder woman and capitalising on her communion with the natural world.

I close my eyes and let the land hold me I revel in the ways my body fits this earth a nose curved like the root of a banyan a lifeline carrying oxygen to its source each hue of brown a blessing from the sun and his careful love

For me, the sky erupts with monsoon

For me, each cricket sings an ancient song

For me, Jayatu waits perched on the edge of the heavens to carry seeds and safe

In the forest you will find me rooted where the canopy threads every rock, stream, and being into one and the same

Yet here they trample

Under the guise of promise

Each blessing unrooted wrestled from my furrow Plant gardens of hurt that will not unseed And while pain rivers through me relentlessly

I ask you Have I not given enough?

My transformation borne in this crucible of suffering You will extol me for all I have sacrificed I have become of sanctity and strength

In smoke and shroud I singe my story and speak with the voices of she who has been silenced

Like the soft earth from which I came I mold myself anew timeless and unburdened I return to the place of all that I am This forest holds its people so its people may hold each other

Sita to those who hold the plow of their destiny