Chapter 1
The Year of the Comet — Raghav
From the Chronicle of Sarama:
The people of Aryavarta and Lanka disagreed on many things, but on one matter both were united: the events of that evening would haunt them for generations.
What follows is my account of those events, gathered from the testimony of queens and kings, warriors and healers, victors and vanquished alike.
Agastya is revered throughout Aryavarta. In Lanka his name inspired more complicated feelings. Some believed Agastya acted from justice. Others whispered that vengeance guided his hand.
I knew Raghav only briefly, yet long enough to see both his kindness and the burden of the laws he served. Of Ravan, my brother-in-law, I knew more than I wished and perhaps more than most.
I admired Sita long before the war ended. I was her confidant in the ten months, ten days at Ashokvana. Some will say that this colors my account. Perhaps it does. Yet even those who disagreed with her rarely doubted her courage.
Aryavartan law regarded such unions as a violation of cosmic order. Among the Rakshas, however, no such belief existed. Rakshas judged a union by consent, not ancestry. Agastya instructed Raghav to eliminate Ravan’s line and massacre all the inhabitants of Janasthana. Thus what Raghav saw as duty, many in Lanka saw as cruelty.
To many in Lanka, Janasthana was not justice. It was the beginning of Arya expansion into the south.
I have my loyalties and my grievances, as all witnesses do. Even so, I have tried to set down these events faithfully and leave judgment to those who come after us.
The chronicle below was quilled from Raghav’s brother Lux’s oral account.
It was a terrible evening, with vultures spread across the sky like the hood of a cobra, waiting to strike. The sun would set in another half hour. The stench of the battlefield was more bearable now. Bodies of dead warriors on both sides had been burned. Dead Vanaras had been magically revived but they still needed medical attention. The smell of burned crops and stench of carrion of dead horses and elephants still lingered in the air. And there was the din of cries of lamenting families cremating their menfolk.
As Raghav crossed the camp tents and walked towards the infirmary, he glanced towards the spot where Ravan had fallen and died on the Lankan battlefield just at the outskirts of the capital of Trikuta. Flowers had been spread at the place where the body once lay.
It was done. Sita is now free. But I have to deal with the wounded first.
He reached the infirmary with a dull headache and heaviness in his body. The stench of the infirmary mingled with the malodor of the battlefield.
These people fought for me and her.
He forced himself to display an enthusiasm he did not feel. The patients here were all bedridden. As he went from warrior to warrior, offering them comfort, he mulled over what Ravan had said.
Ravan’s last words had been on the importance of humility for a king and how he had lived a cautionary tale of what not to do. But he had said nothing about not having physical relations. He had kidnapped her carrying her in his arms. Had he taken advantage of her confinement?
He was interrupted by Maruti, the leader he trusted most.
‘Mother Sita will not come here. She will see you at Ashokvana.’
Raghav mulled it over. As a husband and lover, I want Sita back. But the law?
‘Please tell her she will have to come here instead. Take Vibhi with you.’
‘Yes Rama,’ said Maruti and went to look for Vibhi.
His mind continued to race as he moved to the bedside of a warrior gritting his teeth through a fractured tibia.
She probably wants me to see where she was confined and trapped for the past year. It was not an unreasonable request. Surely she wants me to see how she spent the year.
He moved to a warrior with a high fever, placing a hand gently over the patient’s head.
But I can’t first meet you in private, Sita. You have to first see the army that fought for you, like all these people here.
He moved to a warrior nursing deep arrow wounds, offering some water. The patient thanked him.
Vibhi tells me that there were no physical relations. That you fought your ground. You fought for me and Raghuvamsa.
He offered water to a warrior nursing a cracked jaw. The patient struggled, spilling some of it.
The open shelter of a small Shiva temple made every visit of Ravan public. By refusing to stay at the palace with luxuries you made a sacrifice for me and my family name. The monsoons in the South are long. It must have been frightful to deal with a lustful captor among the pitiless rains.
He moved to a warrior who was recovering from an amputation.
No. I can’t turn you away. Whatever happened.
The headache was now worse, accompanied by a sinking feeling in the stomach. His thoughts were broken by the arrival of a senior healer.
‘O Raghava! Your brother is waiting. We have enough people. We will manage.’
Raghav hesitated.
‘Yes, yes. We mean it. And please bring Sita if she is ready — I’ve heard she too is a healer.’
Raghav gave a noncommittal smile and excused himself.
Soon his brother Lux joined him. Raghav’s face was grave. Lux looked like he hadn’t slept in days. They sat in the open on makeshift seats. One of Raghav’s hands held his elbow; the other was clenched against his mouth.
‘I can never accept it. Please tell me you have changed your decision.’
‘That’s the only way to save her, Saumitra. She has to leave me and marry someone else.’
‘O Deva, what has gotten into you. You are overthiking this. No! No! No! She will never agree.’
‘But that is my final decision, Lux.’
Lux looked at him as though he no longer recognized him.
‘Deva! People will support her. Vasi will favor her,’ said Lux.
‘It’s a matter of what the law says and not the Council vote.’
‘As the new king you can amend the law of Manu.’
Lux was naive. And impatient. And adored Sita.
‘Come here, please sit next to me.’ Lux moved across. ‘I know you fight for Sita. But these are now Dashrath’s laws. Neither Council nor King can change it.’
‘O Deva, she is as innocent as Mansarovar. We will leave for home, but where will she go? For fourteen years she took care of me like a mother and friend.’
The sinking feeling in Raghav’s stomach came back. He then spoke.
‘Maybe there is a way. If she refuses to marry, we could take her along. They will welcome her, I suppose. But the problem will still haunt her later.’
He hesitated, blushed and spoke to his brother.
‘I mean if she were to have my child.’
Lux nodded.
Raghav’s face was grave again.
‘They would still question the identity of the father. Someone will say that she is the most beautiful woman. Many Lankan men would have coveted her.’
‘But you have to convince them otherwise!’
‘I don’t know Saumitra. Can you please organize all our senior leaders around our tent? I have summoned Sita here.’
Lux’s face was firm as he stood up to leave with his hands folded.
‘Namaskar. You have to save her, Raga. Only you can.’
As Lux left, Raghav closed his eyes in meditation. It was not a peaceful face, but a conflicted one.
It was love that had brought Raghav in search of his beloved wife to Lankan shores, crossing thousands of yojanas of inhospitable terrain. Now it was the turn of duty and honor. Because Sita would be Queen and the Queen had to be beyond reproach. They would have to show their people by example.
No. This is beyond me. The doubt of a Raksha child in an Aryavartan womb… This would defame Sita. If not death, they will demand her exile.
You have to save her, Raga. Only you can. Lux’s words echoed in Raghav’s mind.
Raghav opened his eyes. The sun had set and was now well below the horizon. The vultures feasting on the carrion of the war horses and elephants cast long shadows on the battlefield.
He saw a lone, distressed mother crow circling her broken eggs and nest, that must have fallen from the tree next to him.
It was the year the light with the tail visited us. Everything changed.