New dramatic version of Ramayan
Los Angeles, California, October 9th 2008 - an exciting new version
of Ramayan, one of India's oldest epics, longer than the Odyssey and
Iliad combined, described as a blend of 'Lord Of The Rings' and 'Star
Wars,' and a momentous story from start to finish will be available from
Spring 2009.
The hero is Prince Ram, heir to the throne of Kosala, who, without
warning, his life turned upside down, is flung headlong into action
packed adventure where he must battle with evil, gain wisdom and use
mystical weapons in a final showdown with the most ruthless demon King
in the universe.
About the author:
P. R. Mitchell, author of this modern retelling of the ancient epic
tale, lives on the West Coast of the USA. He studied the religious texts
and history of the ancient Vedic culture for 22 years, and travelled to
India twice.
Excerpt form the book:
After a few days travel, Visvamitra and the princes reached Mithila,
and made their way to the palace, where Visvamitra met King Janak, an
aging monarch with flowing white beard and a soft, kind face,
accompanied by the family priest, Satananda, and chief counsellor,
Sudaman.
"My dear Visvamitra, how good it is to see you again! Welcome!" cried
the King.
"Your Majesty, this is Ram and Lakshman, sons of King Dasarath of
Ayodhya."
"Ah! Dasarath's sons. How you have grown. Welcome to Mithila, you are
just in time. I have arranged a competition to see who can lift and
string Haradhanu, the mighty bow of Lord Siva, which, long ago, was
given to King Devarata, a monarch in our family line. Many heroes have
attempted to lift and string it, yet, in all this time no one has been
able to raise it one inch. Many princes have come from far and wide
today, so we will have a great show. You both may try if you wish," he
added, turning to the princes.
"Thank you, your majesty," Lakshman said, "but Ram must go first,
Sire."
"Good luck then, Ram," said Janak, as he left them and strolled
towards the royal box.
A boy who followed them into the courtyard, tugged at Ram's tunic.
"Are you going to lift the great bow of Siva?" he asked. "They say
that whoever succeeds will be given the king's daughter in marriage.
See! There she is on the balcony, watching. Her name is Sita."
Raising his eyes, Ram saw a young girl leaning against a pillar. And
indeed, she was beautiful with her peach smooth skin; dark eyes that
sparkled, and jet-black hair hanging down to her waist.
Ram found it difficult taking his eyes from her.
"And there is her sister, Urmila," the boy said eagerly. "And behind
her stand Mandavi and Srutakirti, daughters of King Janak's brother."
Ram noticed Sita looking down at them, her restless eyes taking in
their god-like forms. She stared at him intently.
The sound of strident trumpets and the thunder of kettledrums
announced the start of the contest, and Lakshman made his way to a seat,
followed by Ram, who was still looking at the loveliest girl he had ever
seen. King Janak and Queen Sunayana, a dark beauty, sat in the royal
box, surrounded by ministers, officials, courtiers, servants and
ladies-in-waiting. The public galleries were crammed with townsfolk; and
those without seats filled all available space on roofs and walls around
the courtyard.
A fanfare sounded, and a heavy velvet curtain was dragged back, to
expose an enormous bow set on an eight-wheeled cart and, indeed it was a
formidable sight, four feet in diameter, covered in an intricate design
and draped with garlands of flowers. The crowd gasped. The bow was the
size of a large tree trunk!
Sita was leaning over the balcony now, watching Ram intently, as the
other girls gathered excitedly around her. An official rose, and the
crowd fell silent.
"Today, in Mithila, courtesy of King Janak, the great bow of Lord
Siva is now displayed," the official announced. "This ancient bow has
never been strung. Those who desire to try and lift the bow will have
their chance today. Let the contest begin," continued the official. "The
first contestant is Prince Agar of Bihar".
A giant, lantern-jawed prince with barrel chest and bulging biceps
stepped up, his powerful muscles rippled as he took his stance. The
Prince flexed his body, and slipped his huge arms under the bow.
He grimaced and attempted to lift it, but no matter how hard he
heaved and pushed, it would not budge. He puffed and blew, struggled and
strained, turning a dozen shades of purple, but the bow remained tightly
in place.
He tried once more, but without success. Finally giving up in
disgust, he swaggered off; head held high, sweat pouring down his
powerful body.
Prince after prince tried, but failed to lift the bow, and after the
last prince left the podium, the official looked down his list again.
"The Prince Ram of Ayodhya," he announced.
High on the balcony, Sita breathed Ram's name as he stood up,
Lakshman wishing him good luck.
Ram stepped forward, offered his respects to the bow, and positioned
himself for the lift, running his hand lightly along the surface,
feeling its contours. Then, closing his eyes, he bowed, and, as the
courtyard fell silent, clasped his hands together in prayer.
"That Prince Ram is a handsome one, "Queen Sunayana whispered to the
king. "If he lifts the bow, our daughter will get a fine husband".
Everyone watched in silence as Ram slowly slid his left hand under
the bow, feeling its smooth polished surface. He took a deep breath,
braced himself, and pushed up.
Nothing.
Ram took another deep breath and pushed up with all his strength.
Still nothing. He looked uncertain, and glanced at Lakshman, who was
watching him anxiously. A ripple of excitement ran through the crowd.
Some stood to get a better view, one or two shouted encouragement.
"You have one more try left," said the official. |
