The Story of Return
Diwali| Mythological origins of the festival
This story is part of the new series which seeks to retell the mythological origins of certain festivals celebrated in India. While there has been strong attempt to ensure there is some grounding by citing ancient literature, creative liberty has been taken in the narrative only to dramatize the events and add psychological depths to the characters. This may (or may not) infuse new meaning to the festival itself. The views are of my own expressed without the intention of hurting anyone’s belief. You can also read the retelling of the festival Onam (The Story of Three Paces) and Durga Puja (The Story of Mahishāsurmardini)
OVERVIEW
With light is a metaphor for knowledge and consciousness, the festival of Diwali (also Deepavali) has come to symbolise the spiritual victory of good over evil and knowledge over ignorance.
While the festival itself has some very know origin stories that can be traced back to specific scriptures, none take the hold in the collective imagination as the one related to Rāmāyaṇ.
STORY
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Sitā wasn’t sure if she will be welcomed.
After all, 14 years is a long time. A lot had happened since she left Ayodhya with Rām and his brother Lakṣmaṇ.
Especially at Lanka.
After having spent much time had passed for her in captivity, she knew she should be happy returning home.
While she had to perform Agni Pariksha (fire test) to prove her purity upon her rescue, a seed of doubt had been planted in her mind that gnawed her throughout the journey back. She knew deep inside her heart that Rām loved her, but the act of having to prove herself to him in front of others had shaken something deep in her psyche.
Was it enough? She couldn’t help but wonder. Will her family and people in Ayodhya accept her?
“They are all looking forward to seeing you” Rām calmly spoke almost as if hearing her thoughts. He turned towards her, placing himself just at her feet. His serene eyes meeting her concerned ones. For a brief second, there was hope.
“Everything that was meant to pass has passed. Anything that is meant to happen, we shall face it together.”
“Rām bhaiya! Sitā bhabhi (sister-in-law)! Look.” a whisper from Lakṣmaṇ came from behind them breaking their conversation.
He was sitting opposite them on the boat on their way to the other side of the river. Sita followed his hand that was pointing to something in the water.
It was a lit diya (an oil-based candle with the wick burning) floating towards them. As it moved past the boat, its irradiated glow on the moonlight reflecting current was inexpressibly calming for Sitā.
But as she watched it, she realized it wasn’t the only one.
Soon enough it was joined by many more diyas. The river soon was beautifully dotted with spots of lights dancing across its body.
She looked at Rām and Lakṣmaṇ who were sharing a similar smile.
A lot of cheer came from behind them. Hanumān and the Vānar Senā (monkey army) following them in other boats were explicitly more expressive in their reaction. Couple of vānars trying to reach out to catch some of diyas that were a bit too far, only to fall over into the water.
Sitā laughed along with the rest, as they quickly scuttled to get back on the boats.
Who could have sent these? Sitā wondered.
As they reached the banks and stepped out, they noticed two diyas on the ground a meter apart from each other, as most as if those had been there to greet them. They continued strolling through a small opening between the tree lines.
As they walked down the forest path, they saw there was another pair. And then another. Until they started appearing more frequently.
“Where are these leading to, bhaiya (brother)?” asked Lakṣmaṇ. While he sounded a bit impatient, Sitā was a tone of delight in his voice.
“Home”, Rām said calmly.
Almost as if on cue, they came upon a clearing and saw the trail of diyas kept extending to the horizon, with the dotted lights concentrating at far distant into what seemed like a glowing mountain of fireflies from afar. The Kingdom of Ayodhya was lit up guiding them towards it.
They reached the city gates only to find it closed at first. Then, it opened and standing behind wasn’t just the sentry guards.
All the people seem to have come to welcome them. Then from within them, three old women came forward with a thali towards them.
It didn’t take long for Rām and Lakṣmaṇ to recognize their mothers and touch their feet. Kaushalya, Kaikayi, and Sumitra quickly hugged them.
“Rām. Priye putr (dear son)! It’s really you? You are finally here!” Kaushalya wept.
“Yes, māté (mother). I believe the exile is over.”
“Rām, I….” Kaikayi muttered “I… I am sorry. I will never be able to forgive myself.”
Rām gracefully moved towards her and held her gently. “Mātā Kaikayi. You don’t have to apologize for anything. Everything you did was for your son and my brother Bharath. Everything was as it was meant to be.”
“But if I hadn’t been so selfish and asked for your exile. You wouldn’t have lost Sita…she would never have been…oh Sitā, my dear child, forgive me!”
Sitā quickly hugged her. She realized the guilt too big for anyone to bear. Everyone had suffered enough.
“Mā. I am alright. It is all well now. I may have been taken away. Shri Rām found me again.”
“…because nothing can separate bhaiya Ram from bhabhi. Not even the mighty Lankeswar (King of Lankā, Rāvan)”, Lakṣmaṇ proudly chimed in, causing everyone to laugh.
“Well, we all heard about it.”, Sumitra spoke up while bringing the thali towards Rām. She put a tilak on his forehead and performed aarti before moving onto Lakṣmaṇ and Sitā.
“We hope that the dark time is behind you all. Come inside. Welcome.”
“Whose idea was all this, mā?”, Sitā asked looking wondrously at the diyas placed around and stretching miles behind her.
“It was of the whole kingdom. Each diya is by a person in Ayodhya celebrating the triumph of dharma. They laid it those out in anticipation for their rightful King and Queen to return back, hoping that the light will always guide you back home.”
Hearing that, Sitā felt her fears about acceptance vanishing. As she walked in the city seeing the people, she realized that no matter how the future turns out, she knew that this day of returning was a worthy event to be remembered for millennia.
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