To Surpanakha, From Sita

Dear Surpanakha,

Hope you are doing good. I had always wondered who in their right mind ever named their daughter Surpanakha – the one with sharp nails. Then I got to know that you were named Minakshi at birth – the one with beautiful eyes. Minakshi is what I will address you henceforth.

I write to you from the depths of a forest. This is the forest, where my brother-in-law abandoned me on the orders of his elder brother, my husband, the King of Ayodhya, Maryada Purshottam Ram. And Ram, the King of Ayodhya, was also following orders. The orders of his subjects; that their Queen was a woman with a tarnished reputation was unacceptable to them. So, they asked him to desert me. And my husband, the invincible Ram, was such a people pleaser, that he just dropped me like a hot potato! You know, I was pregnant when Ram asked Lakshman to drop me at the forest. He did not even bother with arranging for my stay or paying the hospital bills. So much for being a Queen! Thank God I got shelter at sage Valmiki’s ashram!

Minakshi, as I look after my infant boys, my mind keeps wandering back to my days at the Dandaka forest. How I cooked whatever my husband and brother in law brought home. How I slept at a corner.  How I accepted everything they said or did. How I never asked anything of them except the one single time I wanted that golden deer as a pet. And history has never allowed me to forget that one ask I made of my husband. The one ask that started the war.

You know, Minakshi, I have always been docile. What else would you expect of a girl who was abandoned at birth? I was found and raised by King Janaka as his daughter, as a princess. But does that make me a princess? I don’t know. I have always wondered who my birth parents were. Was I the product of the love or lust of an unwed woman or a widow? Or the child of poverty-stricken parents? Or a posthumous born whose mother could not afford to raise her? Being abandoned hurts but, being twice abandoned…hurts so much more.

You are a true princess, Minakshi, born of a wise man and a powerful woman. I admire your grit and guts – widowed by your own brother, you were living alone in the forest, lording over every forest being. I could never imagine doing that. Look at me, I never had the guts to live alone! When they told my husband to leave the kingdom and live in the forest, I followed him. I was so scared of my mothers-in-law that I preferred to live in penury in a nuclear family set up, against living in a rich joint family without my husband! If I had stayed back at my in-laws’ place, and they would have tortured me, I would have just quietly endured, never breathing a word to anyone, friend or family. I would never have been able to stand up for myself. Never!

Minakshi, I am stunned by your ability to stand up, to stand out. I have always tried to fit in, be the good daughter, the good wife, the good daughter-in-law. My father organized a competition for my wedding. Whoever wins the competition, gets to wed me. As though I was some trophy and not a real human being with merit; with desires; with opinions. No one cared to consult me. People assumed I was deliriously delighted! Poems and songs were written about how I was smitten with love for Ram the moment I set my eyes on him. Love at first sight. Really?

I did not object. I did not complain. I went about the marriage rituals and followed Ram to Ayodhya. But Minakshi, you married your man against your entire family’s wishes. They wanted to kill you for it, kill him for it, but you still stood your ground! I salute you. If I had one-tenth of your courage, I would not have been sitting here in this godforsaken forest with my babies; abandoned by the man I walked through fire for!

Minakshi, when you had approached my husband and asked him to follow you to a secluded place, I was so very scared. You stood there like a goddess- confident of your strength, unabashed of your sexuality. I could feel myself shrinking, diminished by your self-assured presence. Ram and Lakshman made fun of you. They tossed you from one to another.  I joined them in their entertainment. What could I do, Minakshi? I just had to appease them – I was dependent on them. When Lakshman cut off your ears and nose and chuckled saying it was a befitting punishment to a “forward” woman, I nodded assent. I still remember how you cried out in shock. Of course, you never imagined that someone could mete out such gruesome punishment for such an innocent crime as infatuation! That was when it struck me, how unfair our society is to our sex!

I am sorry, Minakshi. I am sorry for everything you had to go through. I am so glad you hollered loud to your brother and sought his intervention to avenge your insult. Glad not for myself, but for the future generations of women. I hope they see you as a role model – a strong, brave, competent, confident woman who raises her voice against anyone who wrongs her. A woman who makes her own choices and takes responsibility of the results. A woman who has a voice and ensures that the world hears her.

I bow to you Minakshi. Pranam.

Yours in awe and appreciation,

Sita