Why Sita Didn’t Use Her Power, Even When She Could Have Destroyed Lanka
Riya Kumari | Jul 30, 2025, 14:21 IST
( Image credit : Times Life Bureau )
Sita had that power. Real power. The kind that doesn’t need to be proven, shouted about, or displayed to the world. According to Adbhuta Ramayana, Sita wasn’t just the soft-spoken queen waiting for Rama to rescue her. She was capable, fully capable, of ending the war herself. In one forgotten retelling, she transforms into Mahakali, the fierce form of divine feminine energy, and annihilates thousands in a blink. She had the might to burn Lanka to the ground.
Most people remember Sita as the woman who waited. The one who sat under a tree while a war was fought for her. The one who suffered quietly in captivity. But Sita wasn’t powerless. She was powerful beyond imagination and yet, she didn’t use that power. Not because she couldn’t. But because she knew something most of us still struggle to learn: True strength doesn’t always look like action. Sometimes, it looks like restraint. Let’s understand why that matters. Not just in the Ramayana, but in your life, right now.
Sita Could’ve Destroyed Lanka. But That Would’ve Been About Her. And Dharma Isn’t Personal
According to the Adbhuta Ramayana, there’s a version where Sita transforms into Mahakali, the dark, fierce form of the Goddess and singlehandedly destroys thousands of demons, including a form of Ravana even Rama couldn’t defeat. She had that shakti. She was that Shakti. So why didn’t she use it in the version most people know? Because that wasn’t the point of the Ramayana.
The war wasn’t about her pain. It was about dharma, cosmic order, righteousness, the balance of things. If she had acted, it would’ve become about revenge. But when Rama fights, it becomes a lesson in duty, justice, and divine responsibility. She held back not because she lacked power, but because she saw the bigger picture. She knew when not to interfere. And sometimes, wisdom is knowing when to let the universe move through someone else.
Power Isn’t Just About What You Can Do. It’s About What You Don’t Do
In today’s world, we glorify reaction. Clapbacks. “Not letting it slide.” Proving your worth, your strength, your knowledge, instantly and publicly. But Sita shows us a different kind of strength, the kind where you don’t burn it all down just because you can. The kind where you walk away even when you know you could win. The kind where you stay still, and that stillness shifts the entire world.
Her silence in Lanka wasn’t helplessness. It was tapasya, inner discipline. It was the fire of endurance, not passivity. In Hindu thought, this is called kshama, forbearance. The power to endure not out of weakness, but from a place of profound self-awareness.
Sita’s Power Was Rooted in Her Identity, Not Her Reaction
Here’s something we don’t talk about enough: Ravana kidnapped Sita, but he couldn’t touch her. Not because she ran. But because she had sankalpa, inner resolve. In many scriptures, it’s said that the Sita who sat in Lanka wasn’t the physical Sita at all, but Maya Sita, an illusory form. The real Sita had merged into the fire (Agni) before Ravana touched her, and only returned after her purity was questioned.
This isn’t for the sake of drama, it’s symbolic. It means your true self cannot be harmed by the world’s insults, manipulations, or violence… unless you let it. Your worth doesn’t come from how others see you. It comes from what you are, whether anyone recognizes it or not. Sita knew who she was. That’s why she didn’t flinch.
What Does That Mean for You?
It means that not every fight deserves your energy. It means your silence, when chosen wisely, is not weakness. It means that sometimes the most powerful thing you can do… is wait. Not out of fear. But out of clarity.
We often believe that “doing something” is always better than doing nothing. But sometimes, the path of dharma demands you don’t act, at least, not from ego, not from anger, not from the need to prove a point. Sita teaches us to honor timing. To honor truth. And to honor ourselves without needing to perform our strength.
After the war ends, there’s a moment where Rama asks Sita to prove her purity. It's a scene that still causes discomfort and it should. But Sita, once again, doesn’t react emotionally. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t plead. She walks into fire. And the fire gives her back, untouched. Because when you know who you are, you don’t need to defend it. When your truth is aligned with dharma, even fire becomes your ally.
The Lesson That Lingers
You may never be kidnapped by a ten-headed demon king or walk through literal fire (hopefully). But you will face situations where your strength is questioned. Your silence misinterpreted. Your restraint seen as weakness. Let it be. Sita’s story is a reminder that power isn’t always about being loud. Sometimes it’s about being immovable, inwardly anchored, and deeply aligned with something larger than yourself.
And that kind of power? That’s the kind that doesn’t burn out. It burns through illusions. Sita didn’t need to destroy Lanka. She needed to show the world that peace can be stronger than war, when it comes from within.
Sita Could’ve Destroyed Lanka. But That Would’ve Been About Her. And Dharma Isn’t Personal
Pray
( Image credit : Unsplash )
According to the Adbhuta Ramayana, there’s a version where Sita transforms into Mahakali, the dark, fierce form of the Goddess and singlehandedly destroys thousands of demons, including a form of Ravana even Rama couldn’t defeat. She had that shakti. She was that Shakti. So why didn’t she use it in the version most people know? Because that wasn’t the point of the Ramayana.
The war wasn’t about her pain. It was about dharma, cosmic order, righteousness, the balance of things. If she had acted, it would’ve become about revenge. But when Rama fights, it becomes a lesson in duty, justice, and divine responsibility. She held back not because she lacked power, but because she saw the bigger picture. She knew when not to interfere. And sometimes, wisdom is knowing when to let the universe move through someone else.
Power Isn’t Just About What You Can Do. It’s About What You Don’t Do
Courage
( Image credit : Unsplash )
In today’s world, we glorify reaction. Clapbacks. “Not letting it slide.” Proving your worth, your strength, your knowledge, instantly and publicly. But Sita shows us a different kind of strength, the kind where you don’t burn it all down just because you can. The kind where you walk away even when you know you could win. The kind where you stay still, and that stillness shifts the entire world.
Her silence in Lanka wasn’t helplessness. It was tapasya, inner discipline. It was the fire of endurance, not passivity. In Hindu thought, this is called kshama, forbearance. The power to endure not out of weakness, but from a place of profound self-awareness.
Sita’s Power Was Rooted in Her Identity, Not Her Reaction
Truth
( Image credit : Unsplash )
Here’s something we don’t talk about enough: Ravana kidnapped Sita, but he couldn’t touch her. Not because she ran. But because she had sankalpa, inner resolve. In many scriptures, it’s said that the Sita who sat in Lanka wasn’t the physical Sita at all, but Maya Sita, an illusory form. The real Sita had merged into the fire (Agni) before Ravana touched her, and only returned after her purity was questioned.
This isn’t for the sake of drama, it’s symbolic. It means your true self cannot be harmed by the world’s insults, manipulations, or violence… unless you let it. Your worth doesn’t come from how others see you. It comes from what you are, whether anyone recognizes it or not. Sita knew who she was. That’s why she didn’t flinch.
What Does That Mean for You?
Timing
( Image credit : Unsplash )
It means that not every fight deserves your energy. It means your silence, when chosen wisely, is not weakness. It means that sometimes the most powerful thing you can do… is wait. Not out of fear. But out of clarity.
We often believe that “doing something” is always better than doing nothing. But sometimes, the path of dharma demands you don’t act, at least, not from ego, not from anger, not from the need to prove a point. Sita teaches us to honor timing. To honor truth. And to honor ourselves without needing to perform our strength.
After the war ends, there’s a moment where Rama asks Sita to prove her purity. It's a scene that still causes discomfort and it should. But Sita, once again, doesn’t react emotionally. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t plead. She walks into fire. And the fire gives her back, untouched. Because when you know who you are, you don’t need to defend it. When your truth is aligned with dharma, even fire becomes your ally.
The Lesson That Lingers
And that kind of power? That’s the kind that doesn’t burn out. It burns through illusions. Sita didn’t need to destroy Lanka. She needed to show the world that peace can be stronger than war, when it comes from within.