Image Information: A cave painting of an apsara. (Wikimedia Commons)
I wandered through the forest in a daze, unsure of where to go. I was on my way to Mount Kailash, but strayed from the path in the overgrown forest. Suddenly, the blazing noonday sun disappeared from the sky and the forest was plunged into darkness. I felt cold hands on my shoulders and a warm, raspy breath in my ear. Before I could react, the hands pulled me back and I fell onto the hard ground. I was pinned to the ground while the cold hands ripped my clothes and ravaged my body. I screamed, and the darkness swallowed my desperate pleas for help.
My eyes snapped open, and I launched myself out of bed. I stood in the center of the room, gasping for air, as the horrendous nightmare melted away and left me alone in my moonlit bedchamber. It has been two weeks since I was found by Nalakuvara in the forest, but not a night has passed without a nightmarish memory of Ravana's cold hands forcing themselves onto my body.
The door of my bedroom burst open and Nalakuvara strode in, his eyes full of concern.
"I heard screaming. Are you okay, Rambha?"
At my husband’s caring words, my eyes brimmed with tears. I gently shook my head and began to cry in racking, gasping sobs. Nalakuvara rushed to my side and was about to enfold me into a gentle embrace, but my body involuntarily recoiled from his touch. He averted his eyes, caught between wanting to take my pain away and knowing that he couldn’t. Nalakuvara stood quietly until I finished crying. I wiped my tears away and whispered,
“Thank you, I know it’s hard for you to see me like this. I’m sor—”
He interrupted my apology with a gentle sigh,
“You have nothing to apologize for, my love. Would you like to sit down and talk?”
I nodded and walked with him to the edge of the bed. Nalakuvara waited beside the bed while I made myself comfortable, and then asked if he might sit at my feet. The desire for his comfort overruled my fear of being touched, and I whispered,
“Would you sit beside me and hold me?”
Nalakuvara stepped forward and knelt by the side of the bed. His eyes were cautious, and he asked slowly,
“Are you sure? I don’t want to bring back any memories of him.”
He spoke gently, but I caught the trace of venom in his words as he thought of what his uncle had done to me. My heart fluttered, but I took a deep breath and willed myself to trust Nalakuvara. My husband, sensing my resolve, nodded gently and went to the other side of the bed. As he sat down next to me, thoughts ran through my head in a repetitive mantra.
Ravana’s not here. He can’t hurt you anymore. Nalakuvara loves you. Let yourself trust again.
Let yourself trust again.
At the brush of Nalakuvara’s hand against my shoulder, I flung myself into his arms. My husband paused, shocked by my boldness. His inaction was brief, and he quickly wrapped his arms around me. His embrace was tight, as if he hoped to force the memories out of my head with his affection. Tears of relief brimmed in my eyes as I let my aching body and racing mind relax for the first time in two weeks. Nalakuvara wiped the tears from my eyes and brushed my hair away from my face. He kissed my forehead gently and waited patiently for me to speak.
Finally, I looked up at him and whispered,
“Was it my fault that Ravana raped me?”
Nalakuvara’s eyes widened.
“No, my love. My uncle is a wicked man; you are not to blame for his actions. This is my fault. I should have protected you from him.”
Hearing his remorse at Ravana’s actions, I realized that both of us had mistakenly shouldered a burden that was not ours to carry. I reached out and held my husband’s face in my hands.
“Both of us are wrong to take on this guilt. We cannot hold ourselves responsible for another’s wickedness.”
Nalakuvara nodded, letting my words comfort him. He kissed my forehead again and held me tighter. After a moment, my husband looked at me and solemnly said,
“Ravana’s actions might not be my fault, but I will not let him harm another person. Help me curse him so that he will not assault anyone ever again.”
I nodded, involuntarily smiling at the thought of saving other women from the pain I experienced.
We helped each other up from the bed and walked out of our bedchamber hand in hand. Down the hall, Nalakuvara and I entered his study. He walked in and removed a large, dusty tome from a pedestal. Nalakuvara brought the book over to me, already flipping excitedly through the pages. He found what he was searching for and exclaimed,
“Here, this is what we need.”
I read the description of the curse and nodded my head. After we cast this curse, Ravana would burst into seven pieces if he touched a woman against her will. It seemed harsh, but a monster like him would only be stopped under the pain of death.
Nalakuvara and I sat on the floor facing each other, the book in between us. Taking a moment to study the words, we began to recite the curse. After we finished speaking, I felt a warm sensation spread throughout my chest.
It was hope, for my future and for the future of women throughout India.
Author's Note: Out of the three stories in this project, this was the hardest one to write. Talking about any sexual assault experience requires a delicate balance between honesty and care, even in the case of a story about a fictional character. Unfortunately, many women have been sexually harassed in a number of ways, and to talk about Rambha’s story is to indirectly talk about theirs. Because of this, I tried my best to be transparent about Rambha’s emotions and experiences while still maintaining her dignity. Many of Rambha’s experiences, such as reliving traumatic memories and a fear of physical touch, are things that I personally experienced after I was assaulted in high school. I reshaped my experiences to fit Rambha’s story so that her narrative was authentic. In addition to the negatives of my personal experiences, I also included some of my positive experiences in my retelling. Similarly to Nalakuvara’s support of Rambha, I was very lucky to meet someone who wanted to walk with me while I overcame my past. As for the curse that Nalakuvara and Rambha put on Ravana, I saw it as this story’s version of real-life legal justice against sexual predators. By speaking out against the person who raped her, she was able to prevent the sexual assaults of many women, including Sita.
Bibliography: Rambha, Wikipedia