A single snake-like braid of hair wandered unregarded down to her hip. She seemed
to Hanumaan at once adorable and pitiful, like the holy word torn from its context by
infidels, like prosperity sunk in unmerited ruin, like shattered hope and faith betrayed,
like frustrated fulfilment, like intellect muddied by insanity, like blame less purity
besmirched by foul slander.
Hanumaan said to himself with conviction:
"This image of beautiful despair is surely Seeta. For, behold, hanging unregarded on
the branches of the tree are the jewels described by Raama as having been on her when she
was carried away-all except hose which she dropped during the flight and which were picked
up by us on the bill. And see, the scarf she wears, though soiled and crumpled, is the
fellow to the one we found. |
