In the silence of exile, Sita and Urmila caught a single fish, its scales burning with secret fire.
Childless by decree of the gods, they pressed it to their hearts, feeding it with songs of sorrow and defiance.
From the waters it rose, no longer fish but radiant son — crowned in gold, eyes blazing with dawn.
The gods trembled as they named him sovereign: Lord of the Sun,
Born of two mothers, forged from river and flame.