Far away from my beloved husband ‘Shri Ram’
Abducted by Ravan, ten-headed demon king
Represents his acquaintance of Shastras and Vedas
A mistaken follower of Shiva unlike my Ram
With devilry eyes and narcissistic spirit
Here in his precinct of ‘Ashok Vatika’
Sitting under ‘Saraca Asoca’
Surrounded by its flowers come in heavy, lush bunches
Bright orange-yellow in color, turning red before wilting
Now dry and abundant after leaving the place they belong
What havoc has happened to me?
Since when clemency became a crime
A demon of highest degree in a shape of a preacher
Asked for alms, to cross the line drawn by Lakshman
The grave price, to doubt the saintly piety of my brother
If my Lord were at my place,
He would have done the same
I habitually imagine him near me,
Daydreaming myriad beams, kittle and conciliation
The aura of this place would have been different
All has gone, only severance, exile and moan
How painful is to be a stranger among strangers
How much time it will take, my never-ending wait?
Without him, my life is nothing but mere pendulum
This unfortunate corpse, aging without love
Yet I will not yield before abrupt doom
Desperate for his gaze, his embrace
This unforeseen rain cannot descend my fortitude
None can filch my vigour, my rage
Straight before time and human competence
I am not done yet as a soil on earth
I have so much to do as a prolific mortal
A dedicated and devoted soul of mine
Ready to brawl impurity of any kind
Except him, none can conquer my concrete or abstract
Only the bearer knows the depth of wound
I have to restrain my bundle of pain
The inferno of my agony will burn this land
No one will remain alive here for another felony
Justice will be done for what cannot be undone
Why women are born to suffer
Ahilya, Urmila, Mother Kaushalya, incessant names,
Endless suffrage from incessant waits
Sometimes its fate or else mistake
on entangled voyage, facing all the tides crossing all highs
Hanuman, the fiery messenger
Showed me the ring, forecasting the tacit
A unclaimed catastrophe, soon will drawn to this race
Coming, crossing by turning an ocean into land
Hear the bugle of battle, See the waving flags
I am not a misandrist
I am Sita, in need to liberate,
In greed of adoration from ‘The greatest among all human race’
My way of redemption is through reconciliation
‘My last wish’ my unconditional acceptance
I am Sita,
Not just an abducted Wife of Ram
But , A hushed lone warrior
A protagonist of an untold story
A creator of forgotten history.