After the defeat of the Demon King Ravana, Sita was returned to Rama. I attended Rama's homecoming and coronation before returning to the lands of Sugriva. I lived out the remainder of my life there in peace and with a large family of apes.

In time I died and was reborn. This process repeated and I lived many lifetimes over 10,000 years of peace. My reincarnation after nearly 10,000 years had passed was as a hermit. At a young age I was abandoned by my parents near an ancient sage’s hermitage. I was named Yog and raised as a Brahmin.

But this life was to be witness to something incredibly important. I grew up learning the story of Rama and his defeat of Ravana. I was tutored by Valmiki, the creator of the art of poetry himself. He taught me to sing and perform poetry and a special mantra that he claimed I would need in time.

One day Valmiki returned from the river with a glorious and beautiful woman. I recognized her instantly from the stories I had heard, and lived through, from the Ramayana. This woman being brought into our peaceful hermitage was Sita. Rama had abandoned  her because of rumors and evil gossip within Ayodhya that she had been unfaithful when she was Ravana’s captive. It was a horrible thing to even contemplate, as we all knew that Sita was a beacon of purity and faithfulness. Any who looked upon her could tell she loved only Rama.

She came to us very pregnant, nearing the term of her birth. When she did give birth, she bore two sons. They were named Kusa and Lava. I was present at that glorious moment and was even given the honor of holding Sita’s hand as she brought these two beautiful boys into existence. I was then tasked, as were many others in the hermitage, with the raising and education of these boys.

I taught them portions of the Ramayana, the song composed by Valmiki himself, teaching them of their heritage and glorious parentage. Others taught them to play the lyre and harp and to sing beautifully. A decade passed in the blink of an eye and rumors drifted up to our peaceful hermitage of a grand festival being planned. It was to be held in the Naimisha forest, very near to our hermitage.

For two years I practiced singing the Ramayana with Kusa and Lava in preparation for the festival. When it came, I escorted them both down to the festival grounds, which had taken a full year to prepare. I led them among the games and tournaments and displays and performers. I pointed out important personages, such as their father Rama and their grandfather Janaka.

“We would like to perform the Ramayana, Uncle Yog,” Kusa said.

“When will we get to meet our father and grandfather? Will we get to meet the massive Jambavan as well?” Lava asked.

“Of course, young Kusa. You are to sing tonight before all of the attendees of the festival,” I said and smiled. I looked to Lava and placed a hand on his young shoulder. “In due time, young Lava. All things have a time and place and you must keep your identities unknown as you perform. Accept no gifts and take only praise as your payment. You will be revealed and introduced at the appropriate time.”

Kusa and Lava both pouted a little, but I reminded them of what brave and strong young boys they were and it perked their spirits up. As night fell we took the main stage. All around us were people who attended the festival. It was a sea of faces stretching in all directions. The most important of the people attending the festival sat upon a dais. Among them were Rama, Lakshmana, Jambavan, Vibbhishana, and Janaka.

“These two boys have learned a most glorious song and dance from Valmiki’s hermitage. They stand before you to recite a most amazing story,” I announced. I then sank to the side, knowing now was the time to recite the mantra Valmiki had taught me long ago. I quietly chanted as Kusa and Lava started their tale.

The mantra brought to life the words and actions of Kusa and Lava. In a glorious fabrication the actions they described danced above their heads. The whole of the audience was enthralled and cheered to no end as the boys finished the first section of the Ramayana.

“My good Brahmin,” Rama shouted as we walked to the edge of the stage. “Tell me where you learned this song and who these boys are.”

My heart broke a little bit at that moment. I wanted to tell him everything. My warrior’s spirit held me fast, otherwise I might have broken. I smiled, despite the pain I felt, and said, “My good Lord Rama, all will be revealed in time.”

Kusa, Lava, and I returned to Valmiki’s hermitage. As the festival carried on throughout the year, I escorted the boys down to the festival grounds and aided them in reciting a portion of the Ramayana. On the final day they recited the fall of Lanka and the defeat of Ravana. Instead of leaving, we grew quiet as Sita was led down from Valmiki’s hermitage and to the stage.

“My good Lord Rama,” I said. I stood before Kusa and Lava. “A year ago you asked where we learned the song of the Ramayana and who these boys are. My Lord, they are your sons and we have learned the song and dance from the ancient sage, Valmiki. Now is the time to accept your wife back, if you need more proof, I call upon Gaia, her mother, to prove she was, is, and always will be pure.”

I could see clearly that Rama was on the verge of tears as I stood aside and Sita stepped forward. A collective gasp rose from all who attended the festival as the stage split and four earthen nagas rose with the throne of Mother Earth. Sita moved to Gaia. Mother and daughter embraced and I murmured a soft mantra to ensure all heard Gaia’s words.

“Sita has always been been faithful to her husband Rama, and now I shall claim her for my own and leave no doubt among any on Earth to her sanctity,” Gaia said and sank beneath the Earth with Sita.

All among the crowd were silent for a long moment before Rama welcomed his boys into his family. The kingdom of Ayodhya and the world were once more again at peace.

Back to the Cover Page

Back to The Breaking of Shiva's Bow

Back to The Battle at Lanka: Lakshmana Versus Indrajit

Back to The Battle at Lanka: Rama Versus Ravana

Author’s note: I struggled to come up with a fourth story. I really didn’t want to go to the Mahabharata, as the rest of my storybook was about the struggle in the Ramayana and I felt that jumping to the other Indian Epic would jar the overall story. That and I honestly didn’t and don’t like the Mahabharata much, even if it would have fit my theme of warcraft more. That being said, I posed a question in a famous last words essay and was reminded that warcraft isn’t just in martial feats of prowess. To a large extent it is also mental.

That was where the initial conception for this story was. I intended to write a portion of the festival and let my narrator (named Yog for this story, as Yog in Sanskrit refers to concentration and meditation) have a battle that was entirely mental. That, as you’ve just read, didn’t happen. I instead used his warrior’s spirit to help keep him from breaking and provided him an astra that Indrajit used: the astra that conjures illusions. I also wanted to work in the brief reunion of Sita and Rama and used the trial by earth method related to us in Buck’s version of the Ramayana.

I enjoyed writing this storybook and hope that you’ve enjoyed reading it and have come away with a better understanding of the Ramayana.