Rama : The Obsessive Desire for Righteousness


Rama : The Obsessive Desire for Righteousness

Rama, the name etched in tales of right,
A king revered, a beacon of light.
But is his dharma as pure as they claim?
Or does it hide an obsession for dharma’s name?

Sita, his queen, so steadfast, so true,
Walked through fire, her virtue in view.
Yet whispers of doubt, a kingdom’s disdain,
The same obsession, cast her to exile, wrapped in pain.

Will this blind obsession to dharma- abandons the love and all its holds?
What justice bows when mistrust unfolds?
Rama, the king, chose a throne’s decree,
Over the vow he failed to see.

Was it dharma or obsessive pride,
That let Sita weep, alone to bide?
Her truth was proven, her honor intact,
But trust was lost in a ruler’s act.

Is a king not bound to shield the pure?
To rise above fears, to stand secure?
Rama’s righteousness burned so bright,
It blinded his heart, eclipsed its light.

And Sita, the mother, the queen betrayed,
Carried her dignity, unafraid.
She chose the Earth, her silent grace,
A timeless rebuke to a world’s embrace.

So we ponder the tale, its lessons sing,
Is Rama, indeed, the ideal king?
For dharma must be both kind and wise,
Or it becomes a blade that blinds the eyes

The Ramayana, a mirror it seems,
Of human flaws and unfulfilled dreams.
In its echoes, the questions ring,
What makes a man an ideal king?


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