2 | Sita | Mithila

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~ Mithila ~

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~ Mithila ~

Sita took a bite of the grapefruit lying on the table and shyly smiled

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Sita took a bite of the grapefruit lying on the table and shyly smiled. 

She never tasted such fruits before and she wanted more, but seeing the troubled face of the old sage, she resisted herself. He sat on the other seat which was higher than hers, and magnificent. It looked like an old throne, with a white peacock drawn on it. There was a golden vessel at his feet, that had ice cold water. Servants kept coming and replacing it with different liquids to heal the wounds and pain of his feet. 

But he didn't seem to care about that or any of it. There was something else battling inside his wise head. His face was thin and covered with a silver-white fluffy beard, his brows were thick with age and sheltered his small brown eyes like umbrellas. 

His hands were as skinny as hers, she observed. She was hoping to make an eye contact but he remained lost in his thoughts.

He was Sage Valmiki, the great man who kept her in all these twelve years of her life. Sita always imagined him to be her father, but it wasn't true. It was something that they never discussed, and it remained like an unspoken truth in the Ashram. 

Sita never had the courage to ask him about her birth and for some reasons, she accepted him by heart as her real father. She had nobody else to talk to, nowhere else to go to, except Valmiki and his Ashram. That was her entire world.

Memories of her time spent at Ashram flashed before her eyes.

Memories of her time spent at Ashram flashed before her eyes

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