Sita
Unless it happens to you
 “To think that Rama, who killed Tätakä, broke Shiva’s bow, quelled Parasurama, killed Kara-Dusana could be endangered by a ‘mere deer’ (kEvalam oru maan) is in itself a ‘big mistake’ (perum thavaru),” contends the critic.
Now, there is a story about the great Telugu poet, Potanna – Bammera Potanna – who composed the very famous ‘Gajendra Mokshamu’. On completion of the legend, he read it out to one of his close relatives, another poet, may be, Tikkana, I am not sure. These are anecdotes, interesting but not verifiable. The relative, who heard the legend, commented, ‘Sounds good. But I notice that the descriptive part of the appearance of Maha Vishnu, who comes to save the elephant from the crocodile, is lacking in details. If Maha Vishnu appears on a scene, would He be alone? Would he not be well-dressed, accompanied by His consorts, and be seated on His Garuda? Your poetry does not say anything of that sort. It shows Him in poor light, and He appears as though He were not well-adorned.’
Potanna could not see a way to convince his poet-relative. Then, when the relative was taking his oil-bath, with a towel wrapped around his waist and oil dripping from his head, he walked to the well across the road and pushed a huge rock into it. ‘Tikkana, it was your son who fell,’ he cried. Tikkana was alarmed and he rushed across the road, towel around the waist and oil still dripping. Potanna smiled at him and explained that it was only a rock that was pushed into the well. And he continued, ‘Is this the way you appear on the road? Would you ever dream of walking across the street wrapped in a towel? Why did you not wait till you could finish your bath, get dressed and come to this spot afterwards?’
‘Was there any time left!’ pleaded Tikkana. ‘It was my son, whom you cried, that fell in the well. How could I tarry a second more!’ Potanna continued with a smile. ‘If you are so concerned about the safety of your child and if you cannot wait till you complete your bath, do you think that the Lord would be able wait when His devotee was in distress?’ Tikkana nodded. He understood what Potanna intended to tell him, now. ‘You won’t realise,’ smiled Potanna, ‘unless it happens to you.’
 Well, it’s all very well to argue that Sita should have realised the ‘invincibility’ of Rama, when Lakshmana explained that to her. In fact, she needed no arguments. She did not need any explanation to that effect, for she had herself witnessed several events. She was there by his side, when this slip of a boy, Rama returning from Mithila, slighted the pride of Parasurama, the terror of the Kshatriya race, of whom even Dasaratha had not the temerity to look straight in his face. She knew that he handled the Shiva’s bow and broke it. That was how they got married. Again, she was the reason behind the killing of Virädha. (See:
Virädha and Five and five peaceful
years) For the first time in her life, she encountered a demon, who grabbed her away, and for the first time in her life, she witnessed the playful way in which Rama handled the situation. Again, the killing of the 14,000-strong battalion of Kara and Dusana took place before her eyes. She has seen things for herself and needed no arguments.
But one has to think of the situation. Right Hon’ble Srinivasa Sastriyar captures that moment beautifully, when he says, “You know how Lakshmana resists the request for a time. He says, ‘Rama is a strong man and nobody in the world can ever stand before him. No danger can ever occur to him without his being able to ward it off. Don’t be alarmed. I cannot leave you alone.’ But Sita reproaches him, and finding that he was unwilling to go, she was so full of fear for Rama that she lost her self-control. She did not know what she was saying. You must put yourselves in Sita’s position for a time. Sita, married to the noblest man on earth, left the kingdom to follow him into the forest, and there she herself sent him on a mortal errand. Danger has occurred to him, so at least she fancies. Is it or is it not natural for her in that extremity to forget everything?”
Though the situation was the same for her and Lakshmana, the perception is dissimilar. One has to remember that Lakshmana could not have been agitated on hearing the voice of Märïca. Because it was he who suspected, he who foretold and he who forewarned. And he knew Rama was capable of coming out of it unscathed.
 Turning to Sita, what do we see? Here was she who believed – as did Rama – that it was a deer that she was asking for. Rama goes and does not return for a considerable time. And now you hear that dreadful voice. There seems to be something right in what Lakshmana foresaw. The deer is no more – as the critic says – a ‘mere deer’. It has turned into an ogre now. Added to that is the natural guilt feelings that would overpower anyone in such a situation. ‘Ah! It was I who sent him behind that deer! I who was responsible for this!’ We know that this is only partially true and that Rama took the decision, while she only expressed a desire. Even then, in the heat of the moment, anyone would immediately get alarmed and succumb to persecution complex. That was a natural thing that happened.
As Sastriyar says, “You must put yourselves in Sita’s position for a time.” We do not realise unless it happens to us. As it happened in the case of Tikkana. That should suffice for a better understanding. Think only of that moment. You will understand. Think of the moment that followed, you will understand her still better, where she evidences what she actually thinks about
Lakshmana.
This is not to justify her words spoken to Lakshmana. (See:
The urgent and the immediate III and
Motivated, you are for
details) But the fact that she did not intended it comes out within half-an-hour (of Lakshmana’s departure) when Ravana Sanyasi appears on the scene and inquires about them. She narrates their story to the ‘sadhu’ fondly refers to Lakshmana. “Such O Brahmana, is the unsurpassed vow held fast by Sri Rama. A powerful half-brother of his, Lakshmana by name, a tiger among men and the slayer of his foes on the battlefield, is the companion of Sri Rama. The aforesaid (half-) brother, Lakshmana by name, who is firm of vows and is practising continence (dharmacari drdhavratah), followed, bow in hand, Sri Rama, who was going into exile with me.” (Valmiki Ramayana, Aranya Kanda, Canto 47, sloka 18-20)
If she really meant her remark about Lakshmana’s intentions on her, why would she say that he was ‘firm of vows and one who practises continence,’ within such a short time, when speaking of him? Clearly, she found that she could not move this fellow an inch from this place unless she brought pressure on him by some means. It was the closest that she could hit him with, so that he somehow goes to the ‘aid’ of her husband.
Am I trying to justify her? Listen to Rama, who has a better understanding of her than all of us put together.
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