The deceitful and treacherous scheme of the Demon King was unravelled by the keen intellect of Sita, fortified by her divine blessings. The beguiling yet ominous discourse of Ravana, woven with a sinister and ruinous intent, sought to tarnish the honour of Mithila and the venerable Ikshvaku lineage. Yet, the malevolent designs of the wicked, however shrouded in the guise of nobility, remain ever the same.
Summoning her composure and gathering her strength, Sita, with unwavering resolve, spoke thus:
Keeping the sacred light of Rama enshrined within her heart, yet choosing not to address the tyrant directly, she veiled her disdain in symbolic words. “O King of demons! Fix thine eyes upon thy own wife and court, for a sinner such as thee should not even dare to contemplate my being. Such vile thoughts shall only further thy descent into the abyss of sin, consuming what meagre virtue thou hast garnered through hollow Vedic pursuits. Born of a noble lineage and wedded into a house of divine splendour, I take pride in my heritage, untarnished by the likes of thee.”
Turning away, she refused to behold the face of the one who stood as the very emblem of atrocity. With stern reproach, she declared, “O cruel monarch! The foremost duty of a righteous king is the preservation of a woman’s chastity, just as he safeguards the dignity of his own household. This is an immutable principle of dharma which thou must abide by. O sovereign of fallen morals! Reflect upon thy fate—how wouldst thou react should another dishonour the women of thine own realm? Let sincerity awaken within thee, and thou shalt grasp the gravity of such transgressions.”
“The fleeting mind is the harbinger of ruin. He who falters in restraining his senses invites his own disgrace and shall soon be but a subject of scorn across all realms. Thy thoughts and deeds are as dark as the abyss, disturbing to all righteous minds. Is there no sage to counsel thee in wisdom, or dost thou spurn all moral guidance? Have the voices of the learned in thy court grown silent, or hast thou, in thy arrogance, drowned them beneath thy ruinous ambitions? Know this—thy path leads not only to thine own doom but to the destruction of thy entire demonic race.”
“A king whose spirit wavers and whose virtues lie in ruin shall herald the downfall of even the most prosperous kingdoms. Lanka, resplendent in wealth and grandeur, shall crumble—not by the wrath of the gods, nor by the fury of men, but by the folly of its own ruler. O wretched king! A short-sighted sinner such as thee is doomed to be undone by his own misdeeds, and the world shall rejoice in the fall of such a vile soul. Thou art naught but a beacon of wickedness, a symbol of deceit and unrighteousness. The very heavens shall exult at the justice that fate shall soon deliver upon thee.”
“Thy riches, thy opulence, and thy temptations sway me not in the slightest. I am of Rama, as light is to the sun—inseparable, unyielding. His presence sustains me, and so it shall until eternity. As the learned Brahmins dedicate their lives to the Vedic chants and rituals, so too is my devotion to Rama, the sovereign of this earth and the protector of the universe. O Ravana! As the mighty tusker rejoins his mate in the wild, so too shall I return to my lord. Release me with honour, and spare thyself from the wrath that shall soon befall thee.”
“Shouldst, thou desire to reign over Lanka and avert an untimely and gruesome demise, seek refuge in Rama. He is the noblest of men, a paragon of virtue, whose renown surpasses all in granting sanctuary to the surrendered. Send me to him with dignity, and entreat thy forgiveness with a heart cleansed of pride. This is the sole path to thy salvation—none other shall avail thee. Not even Indra’s mighty vajra, nor the Lord of Death himself, may reach thee ere Rama’s wrath consumes thee.”
“Ere long, the resounding twang of Rama’s bow shall fill the heavens, and his arrows shall descend upon thee with the fury of Indra’s thunderbolt. His shafts, unwavering in their aim, shall turn Lanka to ruin. Thy life shall be stripped from thee, and the race of demons shall be cast into oblivion. As Garuda tears asunder the serpents, so too shall Rama vanquish thy monstrous legions. Recall how Vishnu’s three mighty strides reclaimed the radiant Lakshmi from the demons—so too shall Rama reclaim me, his rightful own.”
“O wretched demon! Rama laid waste to thy forces in Janasthana, rendering it a desolate graveyard of asuras. Yet thou, in thy cowardice, didst not stand against him, but resorted instead to the basest of acts—stealing me away in deceit whilst my protectors were absent. A treacherous fiend thou art, lurking in disguise to sunder me from my lord!”
“The scent of a tiger strikes terror into the heart of a fox; so too shall thy very being tremble in the presence of Rama and Lakshmana. As Indra laid low the mighty Vritra with his twin weapons, so too shall the valiant brothers shatter thy wicked reign. Mark my words, O vile one! As the sun’s searing heat dries the waters of a pond, so shall Rama’s arrows drain the very essence of thy life with effortless precision.”
“Thy end is near. As no towering tree may withstand the fury of the thunderbolt, so too shalt thou find no refuge—not in Kailasa, nor in Kubera’s Alakapuri, nor in the realm of Varuna. There exists no sanctuary that can shield thee from the relentless wrath of Rama.”
The delicate grace and steadfast virtue of Sita shone brighter than ever, unfazed by Ravana’s deceitful enticements. Her words were not threats, nor mere warnings, but a solemn testament to the boundless strength and righteousness of her lord. And soon, the response of the demon king—and the fate of Lanka—would be revealed to the world. For Sita, pure and unwavering, stood as the living embodiment of dharma, the beacon of virtue, and the guardian of faith eternal.
