SITA’S SISTER by Kavita Kane Read Free Book Online Page B

nephew, Jamadagni, my sister’s son. You went back to your tapasya, as is the natural order, to cleanse yourself from the vengeful wrath. Then, pray, why are you bloodying your hand again by proposing to kill this young prince who is much loved by all and is to be the groom of Janaki, Janak’s daughter? Please refrain!’
    Parshuram folded his hands in supplication. ‘Forgive me grandsire, I now realize these princes are your protégé. You are the one who has taught them the devastras, the celestial weaponry of bal and adibal. You have trained them in philosophy and advanced religion, and guided them to kill the most fearsome of demons like Taraka and Subahu.’
    ‘And led them to this hall for the swayamvar of Sita. For Ram to see the Shivdhanush,’ smiled Vishwamitra gently. ‘There was a reason.’
    But Parshuram’s face hardened visibly, unmoved by his grandfather’s plea. ‘I have been hearing paeans about this young prince. If this young man is so supreme and unrivalled as you insist, that he could break the Shiv bow, I challenge him now with my other bow, the Vishnu bow—the one given to my father Sage Jamadagni by Lord Vishnu. Vishwarkarma, the holy architect of the Universe, made two exactly similar bows. One was given to Lord Shiv and the other to Lord Vishnu. This is the bow as powerful as the one you just broke. I challenge you to string this bow. It will be a test of your skill and strength and if you succeed, I shall honour you by giving you a chance to fight a duel with me!’
    ‘I accept your challenge, sir. Please give me your bow,’ said Ram and reached out to seize the bow of Vishnu from the rishi’s unwary hands. He swiftly strung it, placed an arrow and pointed it straight at the rishi’s heart.
    ‘Now what will you give me as a target to this deadly arrow in exchange for your life?’ He asked calmly.
    Rishi Parshuram looked stunned, his eyes incredulous, his mighty arms listless as if sapped of their strength. The mystic parshu crashed to the floor from his limp fingers with a loud clatter. And what followed was a spectacle that left all onlookers speechless.
    The elderly rishi was a changed man. Bowing low, almost on his knees, paying homage to the young prince of Ayodhya, he was a subdued man, drained of his glory, arrogance and fury, and radiating from him instead was a kindly serenity now.
    ‘I now realize who you are. You, my lord, are my superior, my successor,’ he murmured in great deference. ‘From now on, I devote my tapasya to you. I shall return to my hermitage at Mahendra Parvat and continue my penance. Let the arrow which you have now aimed consume all my powers, my tapas, and let it all go to you.’
    With these last words, Parshuram reverentially walked around the prince and left the raj sabha, a far cry from his dramatic, strident entry a little while ago. Deferentially, Ram, with the Vishnu bow still in hand, pointed the arrow up to the sky and shot it straight above, cutting a lightening swathe through the dispersing clouds.
    Everyone in the hall went still. Sunaina was the first to break the strained silence.
    ‘Shall we continue with the ceremony?’ She said gently, a pleased smile back on her face. Taking the cue, Ram and Sita, as a couple, bent down to touch her feet and seek her blessings. Janak, the much relieved father, made a quick announcement. ‘My dearly loved child, my daughter Sita, shall be wedded to Prince Ram of Ayodhya!’ He proclaimed and the rejoicing began outside the palace walls too.
    Urmila was still trembling from the close shave and darted a quick look around her, hoping none had noticed her escapade. Now that she had acted upon her mad impulse at the raj sabha, she had exposed her feelings. And while Lakshman had saved her from a violent predicament, so had she, snatching Lakshman from death. In saving each other, they had, inadvertently, professed their love for each other, a love they had denied for long, even to themselves.
    Had