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26
Tales from Indian Mythology
of their success. "I am not afraid of this bow. It is just a piece of thread as far as I am concerned,” said one complacently. "I have not only bent but broken many such rusty bows in my life," boasted another. "But do you realize that this one was once used by the Lord Shiva ?” cautioned a third. "What does it matter? He must have thrown it away when it became useless," pooh-poohed a fourth. "What do I care for this bow? I have thrust my head into the mouths of many lions,” bragged a fifth. "Either they are not lions or your head is no head," snubbed a sixth. "I was not keen on coming here," confessed a seventh. "I do not need another wife. But then it becomes a question of prestige, you see." "Who, do you think, will win ?" challenged an eighth. "I want to bet. I have no other interest in this silly affair. 'Is any one prepared ?" "Ravana," answered a ninth. "What is your stake ? Mine is half my kingdom." "And you have lost it," asserted a tenth. "For I am going to be the winner." And he hurried to the bow, looked at it, perspired profusely and returned to to his seat. He was followed by another prince, who repeated the former's performance. Others came in quick succession, but none of them could even move the mighty bow. Now it was the turn of Ravana. If he also failed, everybody mumbled, the bow should be returned to the Lord Shiva who should be asked to decide as to whom Sita should rightly belong. Chanting the name of the Lord Mahadev, Ravana took a deep breath, lifted the bow and prepared himself to string it, as the heart of Sita began to beat faster and faster and she felt a dismal abyss ahead of her. Lo! Ravana collapsed under the impact of the bow which nearly killed him. Extricating himself from it, he returned to his seat, greatly humiliated.
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