SITA’S SISTER (29 page)

Noticing Bharat’s perplexed look, Urmila smiled. ‘Bharat, do you really think it is going to be easy to convince Ram to return to Ayodhya?’ she sighed. ‘However much you plead with him as a brother, he will never be able to break free from his father’s word. His father gave a promise and as his son, it is his honour to keep his word. He will never stray from that.’

‘But why? What good would it do now? We have already lost our father; Ram does not even know that! We all want him back. I would implore him, beg, plead, grovel at his feet…even fast unto death!’ he said solemnly.

‘Don’t speak nonsense!’ she said sharply. ‘Haven’t we had enough tragedies that you seek another one? Be fair to yourself and Mandavi.’

‘Then I shall not return till he acquiesces.’

‘And make Mandavi suffer the same pain I am going through now?’ she demanded. ‘Bharat, the whole family now depends on you. You cannot think about yourself alone, nor can you afford to wallow in self-pity and remorse. You have to be strong and fair.’

Urmila wondered if her words were having any effect on Bharat. He seemed to be in a wilful frenzy. She worried about the outcome. Both the brothers would be stubborn on their stance and she prayed Ram would agree to come back to Ayodhya with Sita and Lakshman. She wanted it to happen badly. But she dared not hope.

‘That is why please take Mother Kaikeyi with you,’ she continued. ‘Ram may not listen to his own mother but he might to Mother Kaikeyi as she was the one who had placed the condition.’

Bharat slowly nodded his head, conceding to some truth in her advice. He would need all the moral incitement to convince his brother.

It was finally decided that Vasishtha, Sumantra and the three queen mothers would accompany Bharat and Shatrughna to the forest. Kausalya was buoyant with joy—she seemed to be getting better, filled with hope and energy to take on the arduous journey. Kaikeyi was grateful that she was being allowed to meet Ram, and it was Urmila who broke the news to her. Bharat still declined to speak to his mother. Sumitra agreed to come on the condition that Urmila, too, would accompany them. Urmila found herself in a new quandary: she tried her utmost to wriggle out of the sticky dilemma.

‘I am needed at the palace, I shall remain here with Mandavi and Kirti,’ she said in a weak attempt to give a plausible explanation. ‘We shall await your return here…’

‘Don’t make excuses, dear,’ said her mother-in-law. ‘I know you quite well by now. Why is it that you do not want to come with us to persuade Ram to return home?’

Urmila decided to be upfront to the lady in front of her, to herself and to the turbulence churning within her. ‘Because I do not trust my feelings anymore. I don’t dare hope; I hate that word, that sentiment. It takes you high and dashes you from the cruellest height. I couldn’t bear another farewell. I am not brave enough to see him off again…I can’t!’ she paused, gathering her crumbling despair. ‘Don’t make me go through that again.’

‘If you believe that it’s going to be another farewell, then go there just to meet him; it’ll give you some contentment,’ said Sumitra softly, taking the girl’s clenched fists in her hand, her heart constricted, weeping more for this young girl, still a bride, than for her own unhappiness. ‘It won’t break you, if that’s what you are afraid of. It might give you the courage to face the coming long years of separation. For me, dear, fourteen years is such a stretched lifetime, I am not too sure whether I shall survive it. It just might be my last chance to see Soumitra,’ she sighed. ‘Why ache over something you have no control over? Rather seize every chance to make it a better day, a better life, a better you. Won’t you be happier meeting him than languishing here in the palace? Treat it like resuscitation—it will give you the strength for another lease of life. You have been through a lot, so be kind to yourself, child. In these bleak times, give yourself a chance to be truly happy. I am sure this visit—however brief, however final—shall make you happy. I shall not force you, dear, but never hide away from happiness, to whatever degree or extent.’

Sumitra’s words had hit home; Urmila deserved her share of fulfilment, even if momentary and ephemeral, but strong enough to uphold her for a lifetime.

She was ready to meet him again.

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She saw him first and felt a rush of emotions. He was standing outside the thatched hut, tall and fierce, with his bow and arrow in hand, looking at the procession slowly climbing up the Chitrakoot hill. Even from a distance, Urmila did not miss the grim scowl on Lakshman’s face. She smiled slightly; he somehow always seemed to be possessed by two emotions—he was either angry or angrier. What was he angry about now? Urmila knew the answer already; she knew how Lakshman must have interpreted the approaching convoy. Noticing the cavalcade of horses, elephants, palanquins and foot-soldiers and the king’s insignia flying high on Bharat’s chariot, his suspicions must have supposed the worst. That Bharat had invaded the forest with his army to annihilate his two exiled brothers. Bharat, like so many times earlier, had been presumed guilty yet again. Urmila felt a flash of fear—would there be a bloody fight between the brothers now? But that was such an absurd thought, she decided, dispelling the preposterous notion as quickly as it had assailed her. It could never happen, not with Ram’s supreme sway on both of his younger brothers. He would never allow it to happen.

By the time their palanquins had reached the top of the hill, Bharat’s chariot, since it was quicker, was already stationed outside the ashram where Ram and Sita were residing. He was inside the neat little cottage with Vasishtha, Sumantra and Shatrughna when the queens and she reached. As Urmila approached the hut, she noticed Lakshman was not at his post. He, too, must be inside with his brothers.

When they entered the hut, there was a thick silence and to Urmila’s sharp ears, even the birds had stopped chirping. Her desperately scanning eyes spotted Lakshman. He looked stunned, his face ashen, his eyes anguished, his arm on Ram’s shoulder as if to console him. Ram’s face was ravaged with grief, his eyes glistening. Bharat must have broken the news of the king’s death to them, Urmila reckoned. She heard Sita gasp as the three widowed queens came in full view, as pale and colourless as the white silks they were attired in. Seeing her son, Kausalya seemed to lose all strength, she gave a strangled cry and rushed towards Ram, her arms outstretched. She walked unsteadily and Ram held her before she crumpled, hugging her close as she sobbed inconsolably in his arms.

Lakshman walked quietly to his mother, touched her feet and held her gently by her heaving shoulders, close in a warm embrace, as Sumitra quietly shed tears for the first time. She wept softly and long; there was dignity even in her unabashed grief.

‘Ram, as the eldest son, it would be your duty to perform the exequy of the late king here at the river Mandakini,’ said Vasishtha.

‘Yes, brother, that would have been our father’s last wish,’ agreed Bharat. ‘He died with the image of you in his sightless eyes. By doing so, his soul shall finally rest in peace.’

The four brothers went to the river and offered libations for the departed soul of their father. It was a strange, surreal sight: the four brothers were together again. After the ceremony, all of them walked back to the hut, a sorrowful solemnity hanging thickly around them.

Urmila went up to Sita. A thinner, darker-skinned Sita, though more beautiful in her fragility. The sisters embraced warmly, Sita planting a gentle kiss on Urmila’s cheek. ‘My brave little sister,’ she whispered. ‘You were there all alone, strong and silent and supportive. Even if I tried and were able to face life the way you do, I could never match up to your indomitable spirit and your sheer will. I can never be as strong as you, Urmi. Please teach me and give me some of that strength.’

‘Look who’s talking, the princess who is now sleeping on the hard floor on a bed of grass?’ smiled Urmila wanly. ‘One who walks miles barefoot and one who cooks food for the men—that pampered princess talks about endurance!’

‘I am talking about that inner strength, Urmi, which enables you to endure the emotional hardships,’ said Sita. ‘I am being perfectly looked after by Ram. Lakshman does not allow me to do any difficult work—right from getting the firewood to even cooking! He built this cottage too! I am very happy here in the forest, Urmi. It’s you whom I worry about…you have had to suffer needlessly…’

She was with Sita but her eyes were on Lakshman, sidelong and covert. It was like the initial days of their romance. But this time, dread reigned within her, gnawing uneasily and climbing upto her throat. Had she made a mistake coming to the forest to see Lakshman? The others, in some way, were going to be instrumental in persuading and convincing Ram to return to Ayodhya, but she had come here only to see Lakshman.

She looked at him as he stood talking with Shatrughna. He had gone leaner, his ribs showing starkly through his tanned skin but there was a meaner strength in his hardened, muscular frame. Sita had told her how he fetched water from this very river every morning, chopped branches, collected firewood and built both the huts—the smaller one for himself, a little away from the main structure. The prince clearly used his axe more than his sword.

It had been more than a month since she had last seen him when he got into the chariot never to look back again. Had that been his final goodbye? Did he not want to meet her? Was he displeased at seeing her here at the forest? The unease persisted and grew stronger within her, stifling her but she had no one but her heart to talk to. After the emotional strain of the last so many days, she was not too sure if she would be able to handle his disapproval.

‘…and it’s so wonderful here, Urmi, I actually love it here,’ Sita was saying. ‘I don’t miss the palace at all. That beautiful feeling of walking barefoot on the earth, feeling the soft soil under your feet, or the wet grass or the hard rocks…it is all so exhilaratingly free!’

‘You are Sita, the furrow, daughter of the soil, and nature is making you glow; oh Sita, I am so happy to see you so happy.’

‘Urmi, I am so happy with these small, supposedly little things. The forest seems to be my home. And, of course, the fact that Ram is there with me…’ smiled Sita and quickly realized that it had been a tactless remark. ‘I am sorry, I didn’t mean the way it came out…’

‘Why should you be apologizing?’ sighed Urmila, a tinge of sadness colouring her voice. ‘It is how it is.’

‘Oh, there, I can see Lakshman coming our way…’ said Sita, quickly getting up. ‘I shall leave you. I have to go and meet Mother Kaikeyi. She wants to meet me.’

By then, Lakshman had come up close and Sita hurried back to the cottage. Now he was looking at her—straight and unfaltering as he always did. She trembled; was he upset with her…that same uneasy doubt whorled up slowly within her.

‘Why are you looking like a frightened doe, Mila? Have I suddenly grown so fearsome?’ he asked lightly, running a badly calloused hand over his rough stubble.

She flushed, again hating how easily colour flooded her face. ‘Frightened, no, but yes, a little scared that you really did not want me here,’ she said candidly, her spirit soaring at hearing that little endearment. ‘Should I not be here?’

‘Of course I am happy you are here! Why would I not be?’ he exclaimed in genuine bewilderment. ‘Mila, as I keep saying, you allow your imagination to run wild too often! But I am puzzled—why have all of you come here anyway? In some time, we are supposed to meet with Guru Vasishtha and Ram and Bharat soon…what is this about?’

‘It’s about bringing Ram back home. Not what had you assumed—that Bharat had come here to attack you?’ she replied pertly.

‘Yes,’ he grimaced, and had the grace to look shamefaced. ‘But after what has happened in our family, I am afraid to trust anyone. I have always been the sceptical kind, anyway—consistently suspicious from force of habit!’

‘Yes, you tend to dislike a lot of people a lot easily as I have noticed,’ she smiled. ‘And your bluntness is quite disconcerting. But then, you also shatter my expectations by stating words of such sweetness and copious abundance,’ she added teasingly.

‘Is that your first impression of me?’ he chuckled. ‘All I noticed about you the first time was your beauty and your happiness and how you touched people with both,’ he smiled as she blushed. She was distracting him again. ‘So, why is everyone here?’ he asked briskly.

‘To request Ram to return to Ayodhya. It is Bharat’s sole mission to amend the wrong done to Ram. He refuses to accept the throne and wants him to be king as is his right.’

Lakshman was silent, staring unseeingly at the emerald canopy of the forest below them. ‘He won’t come,’ he said at last. ‘He can never break a promise, especially one given by our father…’

‘…not even if Mother Kaikeyi pleads with him?’

‘No. Is that why she is here?’ he asked sardonically. ‘To apologize? And should we just forgive and forget? Ram will readily forgive her, of course. In fact, he is not upset with her at all! He is not even disappointed with the turn of events. He seems to be enjoying it here and says this exile is a new chapter in his life destined to make him learn new lessons which he could have never done sitting in the palace as the king of Ayodhya.’