A poetic scripture of love, silence, exile, and eternal devotion.
Part 1: “In His Silence, I Hear My Name” (Sita’s Voice)
He does not say,
“I love you.”
But when he gathers dry leaves
so I sleep soft,
when he tastes water before I drink,
I know —
he loves deeper than words.
They say he is Dharma.
I know.
But he is also the hand
that shields my feet from thorns,
the voice that breaks only
when he says my name.
Part 2: “The Weight of the Sky” (Ram’s Voice)
They call me prince, warrior, exile.
But when I see her walk barefoot beside me,
I forget my titles.
I remember only this:
She chose me, even when the world did not.
She is not behind me.
She is the space I walk toward.
She is the reason I do not break,
even when the world tears open in war.
Part 3: “Hanuman’s Gaze” (Hanuman’s Voice)
I have seen gods.
I have seen sages.
But when I saw her in Ashoka Vana,
wrapped in sorrow, clothed in flame —
I knew:
She is patience made divine.
And when I saw him weep
in longing, not defeat —
I knew:
He is not just king. He is lover,
and love itself is God.
Part 4: “Their Eyes Spoke” (The Reunion)
No words were spoken.
The sky held its breath.
He looked at her.
She looked at him.
In that gaze:
the exile ended,
the war ended,
time itself paused to bow.
He did not ask,
“Are you still mine?”
Because he knew —
In every fire, she had carried his name.
And she knew —
Even in war, he had carried her image.
Part 5: “The Heart Never Exiles”
Thrones may fall.
Bodies may age.
Forests may wither.
But what Sita and Ram share —
is not bound by crowns, wounds, or lifetimes.
It is the heart’s song,
the soul’s vow,
the still fire that neither wind nor war can break.
