Text by Arshia Sattar
Fourteen years in the forest lie ahead of us. Fourteen years away from Ayodhya. But I cannot think of that.
I must take every day as it comes, protecting my brother and his wife. I must not falter, I must not have any doubts about what I will have to do.
How the people of Ayodhya love my brother! They know he should be king. They will wait for him to return and they will love him then as they do now.
Dear Father, your body returns to the five elements of which it is made – earth, fire, water, air and ether.
Love, she called it. How can it be love when it is violent, when it wants to destroy in order to obtain?
I know the world will judge me forever, for cutting off her nose. But I kept my vow to protect my brother and his wife. Shurpanakha, demoness of the forest, was not able to harm either Rama or Sita.
What have they done to you, my sister! What violence did they find within themselves to ruin your face and mutilate your body?
Who are these people, these princes of Ayodhya? I swear to you, they will suffer. They will suffer for love like you have – your humiliation will be avenged.