Chapter 52 - Jatayu being slain, Ravana resumes his Flight

Beholding that King of the Vultures struck down by Ravana, she whose face was as fair as the moon, stricken with grief, burst into lamentation, crying:—

“Visions, omens, dreams and the cries of birds are the inevitable signs of good and evil fortune among men. O Kakutstha, because of me wild beasts and birds are fleeing away; dost you not understand that a great calamity has befallen me? O Rama, this bird, out of pity for me, sought to deliver me and now lies dying on the earth owing to mine evil fate! O Kakutstha, O Lakshmana, hasten to mine aid!”

Thus did that lovely woman cry in her terror, as if they could hear her, and the Chief of the Titans, Ravana, continued to pursue her, who, far from her protectors, bearing a faded garland, was calling for aid. Clinging to the trees like a twining creeper, crying: “Save me 1 Save me!”, she ran hither and thither pursued by the King of the Titans. Bereft of Raghava, who was far away in the forest, she was calling “Rama, Rama!” when Ravana, resembling death itself, to his destruction seized her by the hair.

At this outrage, the whole universe of animate and inanimate beings trembled and a profound darkness covered all. The wind grew still, the sun dim, and the Grandsire of the World, Svyambhu Himself, through his divine power seeing Sita overcome, exclaimed: “Our purpose is accomplished 1” Perceiving violent hands laid on Sita, the illustrious Sages inhabiting the Dandaka Forest, recognising that the destruction of Ravana was now assured, were filled with joy!

The Lord of the Titans, however, laying hold of Sita who was weeping and crying out: “Rama! Rama I O Lakshmana!” ascended with her into the air.

Of the hue of molten gold, attired in a yellow sari, that daughter of a king resembled lightning athwart the clouds; her silken robe, streaming in the wind, lent Ravana the semblance of a blazing volcano, and the coppery and fragrant lotus leaves, falling from Vaidehi of incomparable beauty, covered him. Her yellow silken robe floating in the air resembled a cloud illumined by the setting sun, but her pure countenance, as she was being transported through space far from Rama, had lost its radiance, like a lotus detached from its stalk.

Resembling the moon that rises from the heart of a dark cloud, Sita, her fair brows crowned with lovely locks, appeared like a lotus in flower that had lost its brilliance.

With her sharp and brilliant teeth, glorious eyes, well-formed nose, sweet mouth and ruby lips, she resembled the moon, lovely to look upon, and transported through the air in Ravana’s lap, her face, bathed in tears, shone as faintly as does that orb during the daylight hours.

The golden-hued Sita seen against the dark-bodied titan looked like the girth of gold encircling an elephant. Like unto the yellow lotus, the daughter of Janaka with her shining ornaments irradiated Ravana as lightning illumines a thundercloud, and accompanied by the clashing of her jewels the King of the Demons appeared like unto a muttering cloud.

As Sita was being borne away, the petals from her hair fell in a shower on the earth, and this rain of blossom, caused by Ravana’s rapid flight, covered him also, as a wreath of stars encircles Mount Meru, and suddenly her anklet, encrusted with pearls, struck the earth like a flash of lightning.

Like rosy twigs she covered the dark limbs of the King of the Titans with a radiance equal to the golden girth of an elephant and, as a mighty meteor illumines the heavens with its splendour, so was she borne through the air by the younger brother of Vaishravana.

Her jewels, flashing like fire, fell tinkling on the earth, where they broke into pieces, like meteors falling from the firmament, and her chain of pearls, bright as the moon, fell from her breast, emitting a blaze of light, like the Ganges falling from heaven.

The trees, sheltering a myriad birds, buffetted by the following wind that swayed the topmost branches, seemed to whisper “Fear not!” and the lakes, carpeted with faded lotuses, filled with fish and stricken aquatic creatures, appeared to be weeping for Maithili as for a friend. Rushing in wrath from all sides, lions, tigers and other beasts and birds followed Sita’s shadow, and the mountains too, with their cataracts like faces bathed in tears, their crests like arms upraised, seemed to lament for Sita, as she was being borne away. Beholding Vaidehi carried through the air, the glorious sun, oppressed with sadness, lost its brilliance and became but a pale disc.

“There is neither justice, equity, nor truth, nor sincerity, nor kindness, since the consort of Rama, the Princess of Videha, is being carried away by Ravana.” Thus did the assembled beings lament, whilst the young of the wild creatures, forlorn and terrified, emitted plaintive cries. Lifting up their eyes, glassy with fear, again and again, the forest Deities, trembling in every limb, witnessed the anguish of Vaidehi, who was being borne away so cruelly and who was constantly looking towards the earth and crying in faint accents: “O Lakshmana, O Rama”.

The guileless Vaidehi, her hair streaming behind her, her tilaka effaced, was borne away by Dashagriva to his own destruction, and Maithili with her beautiful teeth and gracious smile, bereft of her friends, not beholding Rama or Lakshmana, grew pale and felt herself wholly crushed under the weight of her despair.