By Keshia Rogers
"Scheherazade, wake up."
Scheherazade's blood ran cold. The hand shaking her shoulder did not belong to her sister. The voice that had pulled her from her dream belonged to the sultan. She knew that this day would come. Eventually the sultan had to grow weary of her stories. But she didn't know that she would be this scared. It was all she could do to keep her voice from shaking as she asked "What is it, my lord?"
"I woke early, and I thought you might use some extra time to gather your thoughts for your story before your sister arrived."
"That was very wise of you lord. Thank you."
Scheherazade sighed with relief just as Dinarazade eased the bedroom door open.
"Hurry, sister. We have been waiting for you."
Dinarazade shot her sister a puzzled look, but Scheherazade just smiled and patted the bed beside her.
"You remember, my lord, that Sita had received word that Rama was on his way. For the next few days Sita could not sleep at all. Her heart ached to see her love once more. She mused over her meeting with that strange little monkey. He had promised that Rama was on his way with a powerful army of bears and monkeys. That would certainly be an interesting sight! Sita was very careful not to change her outward behavior. She allowed Ravana to believe that he had broken her spirit. Rama's attack was to be a complete surprise.
Luckily for Sita, she did not have long to wait. Within the week Rama's army was camped outside the city walls. Sita could not see him, but she could easily pick out Rama's voice, strong and clear, giving orders to his soldiers. Just knowing that Rama was near lifted an enormous weight from Sita. Even her guards marvelled at the speed with which she regained her energy, and her eyes, so dull in her captivity, now sparkled with light. Sita knew she would soon be free.
But then the battle started. It was terrible. Night after night Sita listened to the screams of dying men, demons, monkeys, and bears. The very air smelled of blood. Every night Sita would listen to clashing swords and weep, knowing that every man who died might leave behind a woman who loved him as deeply as she loved Rama.
Then one night the noise stopped. Sita knew the battle was over. She hurriedly straightened her dress and tried to comb her hair while she waited for Rama to find her. But when the gate to her garden prison opened it was Ravana who entered. In his hand he held the head of Rama.
Sita had never known a pain that deep. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She could only stare at the lifeless eyes of the only man she had ever loved. Through the pain, she noticed that there was something wrong with those eyes. They were not the same eyes that looked so lovingly at her for many years. They were not Rama's eyes at all. As if to confirm Sita's suspicions, the battle noise resumed and she could hear Rama calling Ravana out to fight. When Sita smiled, Ravana roared in rage, threw down the fake head, and stormed out of the gate.
The next day the battle was truly over. Sita was sure this time, because the entire city was wailing over the loss of their king. Sita wandered back to the same tree where she met the little monkey, and sure enough, he was there again. He led her through the city and out to Rama's tent. As soon as she saw Rama, Sita ran and embraced him. She wept all of the tears that she had held during her captivity. For a while it seemed that she would never quit crying. She was finally where she belonged.
Rama stroked his beautiful wife's hair and tried to comfort her. But his heart still hurt. Word of Ravana's offers to Sita had spread through the camp. It was whispered that no one, especially a woman, could completely resist the temptations and pressures that Sita had been through. Rama loved Sita deeply and did not want to believe that she would betray him. But as a ruler he could not have a wife who's character was in question.
As Sita regained her composure, she realized that something was wrong with her husband. As soon as she determined the cause of his anxiety, Sita ordered a ceremonial fire to be built in full view of the people. As soon as the flames were ready Sita announced her intentions to the crowd.
'With the gods as my witnesses, if I have ever been untrue to Rama in action, word, or thought, this shall be my funeral pyre.'
Without another word, Sita walked into the flames. The entire assembly gasped as the flames completely blocked her from their view. But just moments later Sita appeared on the other side of the fire. When Rama embraced her, her skin was still cool to the touch."
"And did they live happily ever after?"
"Yes, Dinarazade," Scheherazade laughed, "they did."
"It is nice to know that not all women are faithless." the sultan mused. "What story will we hear tomorrow, my dear?"
Author's note: This story has been the most difficult to write. I have tried to show what the battle must have been like for Sita, who couldn't actually see anything. In the original text the battle takes a role of central importance. Since Scheherezade is trying to convince the sultan that not all women are bad, I chose to shift the focus to the proof of Sita's purity. In my frametale I have tried to show a gradual shift from a disinterested sultan to a husband. The sultan's last question shows that he has understood Scheherazade's message, and he has no intention of killing her.
Bibliography: Ramayana~ R.K Narayan 1972
Image: Rama and Sita from Deities at the Mandir
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