66697602-The-Ramayana-R-K-Narayan

from the sea, but none of it comforted Sita. This hour
sharpened the agony of love, and agitated her heart with
hopeless longings. A rare bird, known as “Anril,” somewhere
called its mate. Normally at this hour, Sita would listen for its
melodious warbling, but today its voice sounded harsh and
odious. Sita implored, “Oh, bird, wherever you may be,
please be quiet. You are bent upon mischief, annoying me
with your cries and lamentations. The sins I committed in a
previous birth have assumed your form and come to torture
me now!” The full moon rose from the sea, flooding the earth
with its soft light. At the sight of it, she covered her eyes with
her palms. She felt that all the elements were alien to her
mood and combining to aggravate her suffering. Her maids
noticed her distress and feared that some deep-rooted
ailment had suddenly seized her. They lit cool lamps whose
wicks were fed with clarified butter, but found that even such
a flame proved intolerable to her, and they extinguished the
lamps and in their place kept luminous gems which
emanated soft light. They made her a soft bed on a slab of
moonstone with layers of soft petals, but the flowers wilted,
Sita writhed and groaned and complained of everything—
the night, stars, moonlight, and flowers: a whole universe of
unsympathetic elements. The question went on drumming in
her mind: “Who is he? Where is he gone? Flashing into view
and gone again—or am I subject to a hallucination? It could
not be so—a mere hallucination cannot weaken one so
much.”