Amidst the throng of grim-visaged demonesses, armed with cruel intent and menacing forms, sat she, the beacon of chastity, the unmanifest powerhouse of inner strength, the beloved daughter of Rajarshi Janaka. Encircled by the dark forces of Lanka, she shone with an ethereal radiance, undimmed by sorrow or despair. And lo! upon the arrival of the demon king, his minions prostrated in veneration, as if the very cosmos bowed before Brahma, the Creator.
Yet, he, the mighty lord of Lanka, heeded not the homage of his kind, for lust and pride clouded his reason. His gaze fell upon Sita, and with a voice laced in honeyed guile, he declared, “O beauteous one! Dost thou seek to vanish from my domain by concealing thyself? Nay, for I have brought thee here not as a captive, but to enthrone thee as my queen, to rule by my side over this golden land of Lanka! Bestow upon me thy kindness and affection, and reciprocate the love I bear thee.
“Fear not, O Sita, for in my kingdom, none dare defy my will. I am enraptured by thee, bound by the fervor of my love, and am devoted to thy welfare. Cast aside thy fears and distress, for in the world of demons, all is obtained by strength and might. Yet, know this: though my nature is unrestrained, I have sought thee with love, not force. Till thou acceptest my offer, no harm shall befall thee by my hand.
“O Devi! Discard grief and relinquish fear. Accept this fortune that few in any realm may dream of! None who possess sense would deny such an exalted place. In this land of mine, I banish sorrow, grief, and desperation. Why then dost thou choose ascetic penance over the grandeur that is thine for the taking?
“Why dost thou persist in fasting, in sleeping upon the cold, unyielding earth, clad in soiled garments? None in Lanka lacks food, raiment, or shelter. Be queen of this resplendent land, and behold the demon world at thy feet! Accept my hand, and thy days shall be adorned with jewels of immeasurable worth, garments woven by celestial artisans, and wines distilled from nature’s choicest bounty. Rest upon golden cots encrusted with gems, and be entertained by the celestial dancers of the Vidyadhara clans, whose art is unparalleled.
“O jewel among women! Why hide thy radiant form beneath neglect and sorrow? How dost thou, of such noble lineage, appear in such wretched state? Youth, like the river’s flow, once passed, shall not return. Know this, O pious one—when the Creator forged thee, he shaped thee in perfect beauty, leaving no quality absent, no virtue unbestowed.
“None, in all the three worlds, match thee in splendor! And I, the king of demons, offer thee a throne beside mine. Wilt thou not take it? Even the Creator himself might falter before thy grace—what then of a demon king, ruled by impulses, swayed by unbridled desire? Thy moon-like face outshines the heavens in its glow.
“O Mythili, abandon thy foolish hopes! I possess women from realms uncounted, yet none rival thee. Become their sovereign! All the wealth of gods and kings, procured through my might, shall be placed at thy feet. Thou shalt be praised across the universe for thy wisdom in uniting thy fortune with mine. Shall I not conquer all lands and present them as a tribute to thy father, Janaka? No mortal or god dares stand against me.
“Have I not vanquished demons, giants, monarchs, and celestials alike? And yet, none have dared oppose me. Look about thee, O Sita, and see what future awaits! Freshen thyself, adorn thyself with the finery at my behest, and let me behold thee in all thy grace. Thy beauty shall eclipse even the splendor of the celestial nymphs.
“Give away land to whomever thou wishest, bestow gems and gold upon any of thy choosing. My wealth is thine to command. Temples, palaces, treasures untold—decree, and it shall be done! Thy kin and friends shall rejoice in abundance, and they shall bless thee for thy favor. But thou knowest not the extent of my riches, nor the depth of my fame.
“O Sita! What dost thou seek in an ascetic prince clad in bark and matted locks, dwelling in exile, bereft of kingdom, wealth, or power? Rama, who lives as a hermit on roots and fruits, sleeping upon the bare ground—who knows if he yet lives? Like the moon hidden behind dense clouds, he shall not even glimpse thee. Look to history—did not Kayadhu, the wife of Hiranyakashipu, suffer captivity yet emerge unscathed? But Rama—he cannot rescue thee from my grasp.
“Thy ethereal beauty, thy divine allure—like a serpent, it coils around my soul. Yet thou art as a flame, untouchable! Emaciated thou art, clad in garments unworthy of thee, yet still, there is an unseen force that sets thee apart, beyond the reach of my harem’s celestial maidens. They, who would revere thee as their goddess, Lakshmi herself, would serve thee in utmost devotion.
“O fair one, know this: The wealth of Kubera pales before mine! My treasures surpass even the gods, and I lay them at thy feet. Rama is no match for me in valor, virtue, or wisdom. His is the life of a destitute wanderer, while I stand as the supreme ruler of three worlds. This golden Lanka, its riches, its mountains of jewels—take them as thine own! Arise, cast away thy sorrow, partake of all delights. Dance, sing, and revel in joy! The gardens, the forests, the lakes, and the peaks—all are thine to command.
The demon king, deploying all his guile, veiled his dark purpose with the pretense of devotion. His words, though laced with sweetness, bore within them the venom of treachery. He sought not only to claim Sita but to shatter the honor of Mithila and the legacy of the Ikshvaku dynasty. To tempt, to lure, to break her resolve—this was his grand stratagem. Yet he knew not, in his arrogance, that he wove the very strands of his own doom.
For two alone bore witness to this foul play—Sita, the divine embodiment of Yogamaya, and Hanuman, son of Vayu, hidden yet watchful. The demon king, ensnared in his own schemes, remained oblivious to the fire he toyed with, the wrath he unknowingly invoked. And in that moment, his fate was sealed, his doom inscribed upon the fabric of destiny.
