Why did you kill me? O God, my penances and my devotions have all gone to naught.
My parents do not know that I lie here stricken and helpless. They will go on waiting for
me and even if they knew it, what could they do, blind and helpless? Who are you? What!
Are you not the King of Kosala? And so, you, the King, who should by right protect me,
have slain me. Very well, O King, go yourself and tell them what you have done. Fall at
their feet and beg for forgiveness. Else, their anger will reduce you to ashes. Go
straight to the aashrama. Take that path there. Go at once and save yourself. But this
arrow is a torture. Pull it out and relieve me of the pain before you go.'
"I knew that if I pulled out the arrow
from his body, his pain would end indeed, but so would his life in a gush of blood. My
hand refused to do the deed. For a while I stood, not knowing what to do. |
