Ravana was overwhelmed by the vision before him. Sita invited him in and gave him a seat while his mind buzzed with a thousand thoughts. “She should be mine. I’ll make her the queen of my empire and spend the rest of my days in obeying her command and pleasing her in a million ways. I’ll do nothing else in life except enjoy her company. . . . Ah! how perceptive and helpful my sister has been! Not a word of exaggeration in her description. Absolutely perfect. Perfection . . . How good of my darling sister to have thought of me when she saw this angel! I shall reward my sister by making her the queen of my empire. She shall rule in my place, while I live in the paradise of this woman’s company.” He had already forgotten that he had intended to make Sita the queen of his empire.
While his mind was busy with these pleasant plans, Sita was inquiring, “How do you come to be found on this lonely forest path—at your age? Where do you come from?”
He woke up from his day-dreaming to answer, “Well, there is one . . .” and proceeded to give a detailed account of himself in the third person—as the mightiest in creation, favourite of the great Lord Shiva himself, powerful enough to order the sun and the moon to move in or out of their orbits as he pleased. “All the gods wait upon him to do his slightest bidding, all the divine damsels, Urvasi, Thilothama and the others, are ever ready to massage his feet and strap his sandals on. He is greater than Indra; his capital is unmatched, a magnificent city; he commands all the power, wealth, and glories of this world. Thousands of women wait anxiously for his favour, but he is waiting and looking for the most perfect beauty in creation. He is learned, just, handsome, in vigour and youthfulness unmatched. I have stayed in the glory of his presence for a long time and am now returning home this way.”
“Why should a saintly one like you have chosen to live in that rakshasa country, leaving cities where good men are to be found and the forest where sages live?”
“They are good people, not harmful or cruel like the so-called gods. The rakshasa clan have been misrepresented and misunderstood. They are kind and enlightened and particularly good to
“Those who live amidst asuras could easily become asuras too,” Sita remarked naively.
Ravana said, “Asuras can be good to those who are good to them. Since they are the most powerful in all the worlds, what could be wiser than to live in harmony with them?”
“But their days are numbered,” said Sita. “My lord’s mission in life is to rid this world of them and establish peace on earth.”
“No human being can ever dare try it. It’s like a little rabbit hoping to destroy an elephant herd.”
“But have you not heard how my lord has vanquished Kara, Dushana, Virada, and the rest, single- handed?”
“Kara, Virada, and the rest were weaklings possessing neither bows nor armour—not a great task conquering them. Wait until you see, as you soon will, what happens to him when he has to meet the mighty Ravana, who has twenty shoulders!”
“What if he has twenty shoulders? Did not just a two-shouldered man like Parasurama once imprison Ravana till he cried for mercy?”
This statement enraged Ravana; his eyes became bloodshot with anger and he ground his teeth. Gradually he was losing his saintly disguise. Noticing the transformation, Sita began to feel puzzled and presently he loomed over her fearsomely in his natural form. Sita had no courage to utter any word.
Ravana said, “For your stupid statement, I would have crushed and eaten you, except for the fact you are a woman and I want you and will die if I don’t have you. Oh, swanlike one, my ten heads have never bowed to any god in any world. But I will take off my crowns and touch your feet with my brow. Only be my queen and command me what to do.”
Sita covered her ears with her hands. “How dare you speak thus! I am not afraid to lose my life, but if you wish to save yours, run and hide before Rama sees you.”
“Rama’s arrows cannot touch me; you could as well expect a mountain to split at the touch of a straw,” Ravana said. “Be kind to me. I am dying for your love. I will give you a position greater than anything a goddess can have. Have consideration. Have mercy. I prostrate myself before you.”
When Ravana fell to the floor, Sita recoiled and started weeping aloud, “O my lord! O, brother Lakshmana, come and help me.”
At this Ravana, remembering an ancient curse that if he touched any woman without her consent, he would die that instant, dug the ground under Sita’s feet, lifted it off with her, placed it in his chariot, and sped away.
Sita fainted, revived, desperately tried to jump off the chariot, cried, lamented, called upon the trees, birds, and animals and the fairies of the woods to bear witness and report her plight to Rama, and finally cursed Ravana as a coward and a trickster, who had adopted treacherous means only because he was afraid of Rama; otherwise would he not have faced Rama and fought him? Ravana only treated her words as a great joke and laughed at her. “You think too highly of Rama, but I don’t. I do not care to fight him because it’s beneath our dignity to confront a mere human being.”
“Ah, yes, your class are ashamed to contend with humans, but you may covet and treacherously attack a helpless woman.
This is a noble achievement, I suppose! Stony-hearted rakshasas like you do not know what is wrong and what is right. If you have the courage to face my husband, stop your chariot immediately; don’t drive it farther.”
All this only amused Ravana, who laughed and bantered and uttered reckless pleasantries. At this moment, he felt an obstruction in the course of his flight. Jatayu, the great eagle who had promised to guard the children of his old colleague and friend Dasaratha, noticing the danger that had befallen Sita, shouted a challenge and obstructed Ravana’s passage, hurling himself on Ravana with all his might. It was as if a mountain were hitting the speeding chariot. Before starting the actual battle, Jatayu appealed to Ravana to retrace his steps and take Sita back to Panchvati. He said, “You don’t even have to go back; just stop and put her down, and I’ll lead her back safely to her husband and you may run away before Rama comes.”
Ravana laughed at this proposal. “Keep out of my way, you senile bird, go away.”
Jatayu advised him, “Don’t seek your own ruin, and the ruin of your whole clan, class, tribe, and all. Rama’s arrows will end your career, have no doubt about it.”
“Stop chattering away like this,” Ravana commanded. “Let all those heroes you talk about come, bring them all, and I will deal with them. Whatever may happen, I’ll not yield this treasure that I have acquired. . . . She will go
