Amidst the grim confines of Lanka, Sita, steadfast and unyielding, spoke words both bold and foreboding. Her prophecy, like an unrelenting tempest, swept through the ranks of the demonesses, seeding dread, stirring anger, and rousing fear. Some, trembling, lashed back with the same tired threats, while others, stricken with panic, fled in haste to Ravana’s court.
One among them, devoid of all decorum, dared to transgress the bounds of decency and thus declared with venomous spite—
“O Sita! Thou art an alien to our ways, unfit for the gentle customs of the Aryans! Encased in thine own folly, thou art but a harbinger of ruin! Thy slander against our sovereign is beyond endurance. No longer shall we suffer thee! Lo! These very hands shall tear thee asunder, for thou deservest not to draw another breath!”
At this outburst, a chorus of fiendish voices arose, hurling abuses at Sita. But ere their malice could reach its zenith, an aged demoness, Trijata, roused from her slumber, her voice like thunder, silencing the wicked throng—
“Wretches! Cease thy folly! To wound Sita is to court thy own doom! Yea, to even think of harming her is naught but a path to self-destruction. For lo! A dream hath visited me—one of terror and truth, of Lanka’s ruination and Rama’s ascendancy!”
Hearing this, the demons, now quaking with fear, besought Trijata to unveil the vision that had seized her in the dead of night.
And she spake thus—
“I beheld Rama and Lakshmana, clad in garments of purest silk, radiant as the morning sun, adorned with garlands white as moonlight. Upon a chariot of ivory and gold, drawn by a thousand celestial swans, they rode with majesty beyond mortal reckoning. And Sita, resplendent in luminous robes, was enthroned upon a mountain of dazzling white, girdled by the endless sea.”
“Twice hath this vision come to me! And again, did I see Rama, upon a mighty elephant of divine bearing, its four tusks gleaming like silver. By his side, Lakshmana stood, ever vigilant, the brothers a beacon of celestial might. They approached Sita, who, seated upon the mountain, shone with the brilliance of the sun. And lo! Rama lifted her into his embrace, setting her upon the celestial beast.”
“And then, O demons, did I see a thing most dire—Ravana! Swathed in red, his body anointed with oil, his senses clouded with drink, he whirled in a fevered dance of madness. Later, shorn of his locks, clad in black, he fell from the sky, cast from the celestial Pushpakar Vimana by an unseen force. A woman, grim and merciless, bound him with a cord about his neck and dragged him toward the south—toward his doom.”
“Nor was he alone in his plight. His kin, too, I beheld, steeped in oil and ruin. Ravana upon a swine, Indrajit upon a crocodile, Kumbhakarna upon a lumbering camel—all careening towards the abyss of fate! Meanwhile, Vibhishana, draped in silks of white, his form bathed in the fragrance of sandalwood, stood aloft, enthroned upon an elephant of regal might. To him the conch and trumpet sang, and Lanka bowed before his rising star.”
“And behold! The city of gold lay in ruin! Fires raged, palaces crumbled, and terror-stricken souls fled in vain. Women, wild with despair, drank oil and wailed in lamentation. The gates, shattered; the walls, broken; the heavens, veiled in smoke and dust. Kumbhakarna and Lanka’s lords wallowed in pools of filth; their glory drowned in disgrace!”
With eyes wide in horror, the demonesses quailed before Trijata’s words. But she, unwavering, pressed on—
“Know this! My vision is no empty dream, but the whisper of fate itself! Sita shall return to her beloved, and Rama shall wreak vengeance upon those who have wronged her. To mock her now is to summon death upon thee. Flee from thy folly! Cast away thy scorn! For in her suffering, Sita hath drawn forth the hand of destiny, and soon shall her tribulation yield to triumph.”
“Lo! Already the signs manifest! Her left eye trembles, her sinews quiver with divine portent—omens of glad tidings to come. The birds, the winds, the very earth stir in anticipation. Rama neareth! A turning of the tide is upon us! What was terror is now prayer, what was threat is now assurance, what was punishment is now deliverance!”
“O daughters of darkness, heed my counsel! Beg for Sita’s mercy! Seek her pardon, for she alone may spare thee from the wrath to come. The wheel of fate turns swiftly, and the hour of Lanka’s reckoning is nigh!”
Thus, spake Trijata, and a hush fell upon the demon horde. The end had begun.
