The Princess of Ayodhya

She sat in her mother's chambers in the Inner Palaces, watching the maids busy with their daily cooking and cleaning. Hurrying throughout the palace, they were making preparations to show some hospitality to the king of Anga Desh, who was arriving at the court tomorrow. He had something important to discuss with the king. Something of benefit to Ayodhya.

She was his only heiress. Yet she had lived a neglected life. She pined for his love, and he showed her none. Her mother and stepmother loved her, brought her up, dressed her, braided her hair and taught her the lessons of life. She was entitled to all the luxuries of a princess, yet her father's unwanted child. Her anger grew by the day as her father became more and more eager for a son. There was a constant line of Rishis and Munis coming to the court to help and advise the king. As was the rumour among the servants, the King of Anga Desh was coming for the same purpose.

The princess sighed. Nobody in the palace understood her pain. All they thought was what more could she want after the luxuries of the palace? Her anger was channelled by her stepmother into learning skills of self-defence and warfare. She was indeed a brave princess.

The palace was abuzz at the Anga king's arrival. The court session began. The queens sat in the Inner Palace with their daughters, discussing how the king would provide them with a son, an heir to the throne. Their attitude brought tears to her eyes. She fought them back bravely. Suddenly, Manthara came into the room.

"Princess Shanta, you have been summoned to the court by your father immediately. "

Everyone looked surprised. She had never even been talked to by members of the court, including her father. Why summon her? Has he realised her value?

A happy Shanta rushed into her father's court with a smile. The tiny bells on her Ghagra Choli attracted the attention of the court as everyone stared at her wide-eyed. They had never seen the princess smile. With a hesitant pause, the King looked at his counterpart from Anga, who nodded willingly.

" Princess, this is the King of Anga. She is the Princess I told you about."

"Your Daughter..."

"Umm... Kaushalya's daughter... "

Her smile vanished.

" Princess, the king has come here with a proposal for you."

Her heart skipped a beat. Was this old king trying to marry her?

" Their land has been cursed with drought for several years.... only Rishyasringa Muni can save them by summoning the gods of the rain. He needs your help."

The princess was puzzled. How could she help? She had never heard of this person before.

The king of Anga spoke now.

" Rishyasringa has been confined to his ashram by his father's chakra line, which he cannot cross. Hence, we cannot bring him to Anga. His father did this to protect his son from lust and pleasure. The only way to break this is if he readily accepts the company of a lady. However, the line cannot be crossed easily; the mantras are powerful. Many who tried have been reduced to ashes."

" So, what makes you feel I am any different?"

" You are brave and strong-minded. If you can lure him to you and bring him to Anga, I promise to pray to the gods to help them give your father and mother what their hearts desire, a son! I desire a daughter. My wife and I are going to adopt you as our own."

She saw her father's eyes light up with hope. She understood that she meant nothing to him. She was being pushed to the brink of death by her father for his wish for a son! Angry yet composed, she replied, " I am ready, Rajan. Please give me a day to get ready for the trip and say goodbye to my mother."

She could see smiles on all the faces of the court, and she was weeping inside.

She quietly made her way into the dark courtyard as her mother rushed out, concerned. She looked distraught.

" What is it, Shanta? Why did your father summon you?"

" He wants me to leave this palace and go with the Rajan of Anga. To attract and lure a sage in exchange for sons for you."

Her words were as cold as stone. Her mother grew numb.

The whole Inner Palace was crying as the mothers helped their daughter pack her things. Every girl needed to go someday or the other, but not like this. Her life ahead was dark, difficult and uncertain. She was still their teenage child, and they wanted to shield her from the world.

Idols of the Sage Sringi and his wife Shanta in their ashram at Sringaverpur

She was taken to a tent near the sage's ashram to carry out her task. She bathed and dressed in a fine sari and her best jewellery. She waited for Rishyasringha's father to leave him alone and go to collect fruits. She came out of hiding and started singing in a beautiful voice.

Rishasringha came out, curious about the beautiful voice, and asked, " What are you doing with such a wonderful voice?"

" I am a lady ."

" Why are you so different from me? Your body so different from mine?"

" Because I think differently from you."

Enchanted by her voice, he wanted to know her more, but was scared of his father. " Go away before you hurt yourself"

" No, step out of your circle and come to me"

He denied her request. Every day they met, but he did not cross his circle. They became friends through music. Day by day, he saw this brave girl live through the hurdles of jungle life and fall in love. He finally stepped out, much to his father's dismay. She married him and took him to the land of Anga as promised.

With his yogic power, he brought life back to Anga by summoning the Rain Gods. Later, he made his way to Ayodhya to perform the yagna that led to the birth of the four Princes as promised. The Princess, however, came back to the place that rejected her for being a girl for the last time for this yagna. She decided to stay with her newfound family, looking after them and her husband's ashram. Their descendants are the Rishyasringha Rajputs.

Such was the work of Karma that the King got his sons for his daughter's sacrifices and lost his life in the love of his sons as a result of ignoring the Laxmi (lady luck) of the house.

DAMODAR GANGADHAR RAO : The Ill Fated Heir

In the shadowed halls of Jhansi's royal palace, a nine-year-old boy named Ananda Rao stepped into a destiny of struggle he was not born into. Born in 1848 to Vasudeo Rao and his wife, Ananda Rao was surrendered to the childless King Gangadhar Rao and his fierce young queen, Manikarnika (Manu), better known as Rani Laxmi Bai. It was November 19, 1853, on the king's deathbed, amid whispers of adoption rites that bound the boy to a throne teetering on the edge of empire. Queen Laxmi Bai was just nine when she married the 29-year-old widower Gangadhar. She had already endured heartbreak. Her biological son, Damodar Rao, arrived in 1851 but slipped away after three short months. With Gangadhar's death in 1853, Vasudeo, a distant royal relative, was instructed to hand over Ananda's adoption papers. Renamed Damodar Rao, the boy became Jhansi's last hope. But hope was fragile under British eyes. Enter the Doctrine of Lapse, Lord Dalhousie’s ruthless policy that devoured pri...

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The Suta Putra

He was born as the eldest son of the Princess of Kuntibhoj. She was unmarried and had a bright future ahead of her. She did not want to sabotage her life and future for the unwanted child. She wrapped him in a blanket and decided to float him on the River, hoping the Mother Goddess would safely deliver him to someone. His father, the Sun God himself, was sympathetic to her plight and, for the safety of his son, provided him with a set of golden Kavach and Kundal (A set of earrings and a locket/beads/armour) to protect him. These were powerful enough to save him from any weapon. The currents took the baby far away to the land of Hastinapur. The royal charioteer Adhirath and his wife Radha were bathing there and praying to the Sun God for a child. A basket floated past them with a baby in it. They picked the baby up and decided to call him their son. Growing up, he wanted to learn archery and train as a Kshatriya, much to the objection of his parents. He went to Parasurama, the teacher o...

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The Lady Sultan

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Asuras are not Demons

Demons in the Abrahamic religions are not the same as Asuras of Hinduism. Originally deities of Iranian origin, they were seen in the tribal context as no different from Devas, but as counterparts to maintain balance. In early epics and Puranas, asura meant a chosen leader of great capacity. Only later, perhaps due to the Iranian link, their image declined. It was with the Brahmanas that the sharp divide appeared: devas as divine, asuras as evil. Puranic myths demonised them mainly to assert the superiority and immortality of devas, while asuras were cast as symbols of the "other." Since Tribes still worshipped them and embraced their power of negativity, being important to balance, they soon became synonymous with tribes, which was not the case mythologically. There are instances of Bali or Ravana being Kshatriya or Brahmin Asuras and competent kings. Indian demonology itself is vast and layered, shaped by surviving tribes, each with unique myths. Celestial, aerial, and terr...

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