The Tale of Vedavati and the Birth of Devi Sita
Raavan, the mighty king of Lanka and son of sage Vishrava, soared across the skies on the Pushpak Vimana—a celestial chariot he had seized from his half-brother Kubera. With pride swelling in his chest and the fire of conquest burning in his heart, he journeyed over vast oceans, towering mountains, and sacred lands until he reached the serene and mystical forests of the Himalayas.
There, amidst trees older than time and silence shaped by centuries of penance, the air itself seemed sacred—still, deep, and heavy with divine anticipation. As Raavan wandered through the wilderness, his eyes fell upon a vision unlike any he had ever seen.
Beneath the shade of ancient trees sat a young ascetic woman, clad in black deer skin. Her matted locks flowed down her back, and her being radiated a spiritual brilliance that outshone even the celestial nymphs. Immersed in deep meditation, she glowed with the fire of tapasya—like a steady lamp burning with unwavering devotion.
Raavan, often ruled by pride and desire, found his heart unsettled. Captivated by her ethereal beauty, he approached with arrogance, questioning why someone so radiant would choose a life of austerity and solitude. He mocked her penance, claiming such hardships were meant for the old and not for one so young and graceful. He pressed her with questions—who her father was, whose wife she might be, and why she had chosen such renunciation.
With calm dignity, the maiden answered. She was Vedavati, daughter of the sage Kushadvaja, son of Brihaspati—the revered guru of the gods. Born of her father’s devotion and wisdom, she had grown up surrounded by sacred knowledge. Many celestial beings—gods, gandharvas, yakshas, nagas, even rakshasas—had sought her hand in marriage. But her father had only one wish: that Lord Vishnu, the preserver of the three worlds, should be her husband.
This choice had enraged a demon king named Shambhu, who treacherously murdered Kushadvaja in his sleep. Heartbroken, Vedavati’s mother embraced her husband’s funeral pyre, leaving young Vedavati alone. Determined to fulfill her father’s sacred wish, she vowed to accept only Lord Vishnu as her husband and retreated to the forest for severe penance.
She revealed her identity to Raavan and gently asked him to leave, declaring that through the power of her tapasya she was aware of all that existed in the three worlds.
But Raavan, blinded by arrogance and desire, laughed at her words. He boasted of his strength and wealth, declaring himself far superior to Vishnu. “You are the most beautiful woman in the universe,” he said. “Your youth is fading—why waste it in austerity? Become my queen and enjoy every pleasure by my side.”
Vedavati’s eyes blazed with fury at his arrogance. When Raavan dared to touch her hair, she acted with righteous defiance. Swift as a sword, she cut off the locks he had defiled and cast them aside, declaring that she could no longer remain in a body tainted by his sinful touch.
In burning anger yet unshaken purity, she resolved to end her life. “O wicked king,” she said, “because you have dishonored me, I shall enter the fire before your very eyes. I shall not curse you now—for that would diminish the merit of my penance. But hear my vow: if I have ever performed good deeds or sacrifices, may I be reborn as a virtuous daughter of a noble father. In that birth, I shall become the cause of your destruction.”
With unwavering resolve, Vedavati stepped into the flames. The heavens responded—the skies opened, and showers of celestial flowers rained down, honoring her purity, her vow, and her fearless sacrifice.
Time passed. True to her word, Vedavati was reborn. From a lotus blooming in a tranquil pond, a radiant girl emerged, glowing with divine beauty. Raavan himself found her, but when his minister warned that this child would bring his downfall, he cast her into the sea.
Yet the divine cannot be destroyed. She reached the kingdom of Mithila, ruled by the noble King Janaka. At that time, Mithila suffered a terrible drought. In a bid to restore balance, Janaka performed a sacred yajna. As part of the ritual, he took up the plough and tilled the yajna field. From the furrow of the earth, a miracle occurred—a radiant child emerged, serene and divine.
Janaka was struck with awe. Realizing this was no ordinary girl, he named her Sita—the “furrow.” He and his queen, Sunaina, lovingly raised her as their daughter, a divine gift from Bhumi Devi herself.
From her childhood, Sita radiated grace, wisdom, and compassion. Sages who visited Mithila remarked that she was destined for a greater purpose—that she was Vedavati reborn, sent to walk beside Lord Rama and fulfill the vow she had made in fire.
The scriptures proclaim that this blessed goddess descends in every age to restore balance and destroy evil. In Satya Yuga, she was Vedavati. In Treta Yuga, she was Sita. Again and again, she returns—pure, fearless, and resolute—until dharma prevails.
This was the tale of Vedavati’s vow and her rebirth as Sita—an eternal story of sacrifice, destiny, and dharma. For more such timeless tales, follow Storyantra for more stories.