SITA’S SISTER (19 page)

‘But why? Don’t you trust Bharat?’

‘I do. But he is his mother’s son and don’t underestimate Manthara,’ he replied evenly. ‘She just might put ideas into his head like she must have been doing so all these years. She calls him yuvraj, if you noticed, never Bharat. His is a young, impressionable mind; he might get swayed under his grandfather’s influence, or that of his mother. Ma Kaikeyi can be dangerously stubborn—he might succumb to her insistence.’

‘…But she wants Ram to be king, not Bharat!’ exclaimed Urmila, rising to the queen’s defence.

‘That is what she says but does she really mean it? After all, this is politics, a game of power and position. She wouldn’t like to relinquish it. Moreover, there is a remote possibility that Bharat may rebel and question the decision. It is a risk Father hopes to elude. I guess that is the reason why he is making most of his absence, and the fact that he is neurotically afraid.’

‘But it appears devious even when it is not. This doesn’t seem fair. How are you going to explain it to Bharat when he returns? Won’t he be hurt? I don’t know how to put it, but I have mixed feelings about this. I am glad Ram will be king but there’ll be trouble…’

‘Exactly. And that’s what we are trying to avert. Just hurry,’ he said impatiently. ‘Get your sister ready quickly. The rituals are to start soon…’

Slightly irritated with her, he left the room. But a bigger worry was gnawing at her: Kaikeyi had not heard the news yet, Urmila told herself uneasily, as she walked rapidly towards Sita’s chambers. Had King Dashrath discussed this issue with her beforehand, since he had promised her father that it would be her son who would be heir apparent? Or had he gone ahead without her knowledge and consultation? The last time he had done that and not included her in choosing the brides for the four princes, she had thrown a royal tantrum and threatened the peace of the palace and the happiness of the newly-wed brides. Urmila hoped fervently that the old king or Ram had apprised Kaikeyi by now, or God forbid, Urmila stopped in her tracks, giving an involuntary shudder…it would be devastation.

The moment Urmila entered the chamber, Sita heaved a sigh of relief. ‘I was wondering what to do. I was going to come to you and let you know what Ram just conveyed to us. He is going to be coroneted crown prince tomorrow!’ she exclaimed, but there was no happy excitement in her voice.

‘Where is he?’

‘With his mother.’

‘Ma Kaikeyi?’

‘No, Ma Kausalya,’ replied Sita.

Why had he not yet paid the younger queen a visit, Urmila thought nervously. It would have been better if he had broken the news to her personally—as a happy son would to his proud mother. There was no doubt in Urmila’s mind that Kaikeyi would be equally glad to hear the news. This inexplicable delay in revealing it to her made it appear needlessly surreptitious. Urmila hoped it would be the father or the son who broke the news to her and not her old nursemaid. Urmila shivered at the thought.

‘Are you cold?’ Sita asked anxiously. ‘But it’s so warm today! I am glad that you turned up,’ she brightened up visibly. ‘Ma Kausalya has told me a list of things I am supposed to do—and I don’t know where to begin!’

‘For one, you have to start with the pre-coronation fasting today!’ Urmila told her affectionately. ‘The other things I shall get done. You need to sleep on a bed of grass tonight. The Narayana puja should start soon so we need to get you ready. What are you wearing? Your favourite yellow? It’s an auspicious colour.’

‘I am missing Mandavi and Kirti,’ Sita interrupted her ramble of words. ‘We could and should have waited for them…’

‘Don’t let us get into it,’ Urmila tried to brush it off airily. ‘We barely have any time to chat, there are so many things to be done.’

‘Exactly. Why this sudden decision?’ demanded Sita. ‘Ram did not have the time to explain it to me but all he said was that he was obeying his father’s wishes. It’s all so rushed. And I can’t help but remember Mandavi’s words. She was so sure Bharat would be king according to the promise given by our father-in-law to his father-in-law. It was on that condition, that Ma Kaikeyi’s son would be the heir apparent, that he allowed his daughter to marry King Dashrath. Then how is Ram being made crown prince?’

‘You know the answer, Sita. Because he is the ideal choice—he is the eldest son and is popular with everyone. He is good, kind, virtuous, brave and noble. He is loved by his subjects. And, besides, his father wishes him to be king. It was a unanimous decision taken by the ministers, gurus and the citizens. Everyone knew it would happen one day. And that day is tomorrow,’ explained Urmila, the words ringing hollow to her.

‘I wish they were here!’ repeated Sita. ‘Matters would have been more sorted. How am I to face Mandavi when she returns? I feel guilty; it’s like snatching what she aspired for…’

‘Now don’t be silly!’ interjected Urmila sharply. ‘Sita, I agree that you were taken aback by this sudden turn of events but do not dwell on such irrelevant thoughts. You are Ram’s wife and, as his consort, you become the queen. It is simple.’

‘We sisters don’t seem to be together anymore, do we?’ Sita looked forlorn. ‘Things are no longer the same after that fight…Mandavi cut off from us completely, she and Kirti left for Kekeya without letting either of us know, and now they are not here for one of the most important events of my life. They should have been here, Urmi.’

‘Let’s not brood over it. What Mandavi believes or what she wishes for, does not matter right now. And anyway, they were largely not her words; she was being slowly vitiated by Manthara, all of us know that now.’

Manthara, Urmila felt a chill up her spine. The present setup was perfect for her to play mischief. Where was she?

‘Have you seen Manthara?’ she asked casually, not wanting to arouse Sita’s suspicions. ‘I could do with her help. She must know all the procedures and formalities.’

Sita shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t seen her since morning. She must be with Ma Kaikeyi.’

Urmila fervidly hoped not.

It was not yet dawn, the sky still dark and cloudless, but from the palace windows high above, Urmila could see that the streets of Ayodhya were illuminated, with people starting to throng the city, the narrow lanes filling up fast. Like her and all the others they were waiting for the ceremony to begin—they were waiting for their king. He had not yet stepped out from his chambers.

Everything was ready—the holy water in jars, the curd, honey and clarified butter in golden bowls, the aromatic fried rice, the sacred grass and flowers arranged neatly in filigreed gold plates and silver trays. Outside, there was a procession of horses, bulls, elephants and chariots with white flags accompanied by cheerful crowds walking alongside; the music of drums, cymbals and trumpets renting the early hours in erupted merriment. The palace was festooned with gaily coloured floral garlands. Flickering oil lamps, adorning every corridor and arch, added a luminous brightness to the gaiety. Hand-drawn rangolis marked each step and hallway of the palace. How she and the senior queens had managed to plan out each detail and decoration, Urmila wondered tiredly, running her hands over her burning eyes. She had not slept through the night and neither had the others.

Everyone was ready. Ram was dressed in white silk robes, looking regal and solemn. In her rich, deep turmeric silk sari, complementing the heavy gold jewellery which initially she was averse to wearing, Sita looked every inch the golden queen. Urmila looked down at herself—she had bundled herself in an onion pink embroidered silk thanks to Sumitra, who had forced her to leave Sita’s side and ordered her to dress up for the occasion.

Vasishtha had reached the palace with his procession of disciples for the maha puja, bringing with him the holy waters of all the holy rivers in golden vessels. So were the generals, ministers and noblemen of the court. Kausalya, bursting with fiery pride and unsuppressed joy, and Sumitra, sedate as always, were sitting at the yagna, waiting for the king. Both the queens were in ceremonial sparkling white and dull gold…but where was the third queen? Urmila felt a coil of uneasiness stirring within her. Kaikeyi had not yet appeared on the scene nor was Manthara to be seen anywhere. She glanced at her husband. Lakshman had barely managed to get ready but in his royal blue, he was the very prince she had fallen in love with—handsome, frowning and unsmiling. He, too, was worried as she could see. Why were the king and queen taking such a long time to make their appearance?

Ram and Sita were ready for the coronation. Kausalya was pouring ghee into the sacrificial fire, invoking blessings for her son. Vasishtha called Sumantra, the royal minister, and said, ‘The preparations are all done. The holy fire has been started. Please go and call the king. The people are waiting for him.’

Urmila and the others were surprised to see a white-faced Sumantra return quickly without the king. Instead, he had a message from the king for Ram. He had been summoned to the king’s chambers.

There was a still silence as Ram, alongside a grim-faced Lakshman, hastened after Sumantra. Everyone was wondering what was happening but none dared to voice their doubts. Sita slipped her hand into Urmila’s and they held each other tightly; both anxiously awaiting an ambiguous, unfavourable outcome. The knot of fear was getting bigger, billowing deep inside her. Urmila saw Kausalya looking worried. Sumitra was already beside her, calmly chanting the mantras.

The thickening crowd outside was also getting impatient and restless, wondering about the unusual delay. Were the rites taking longer than usual? Was the ceremony to be more elaborate than otherwise? Little did they know what was happening in the inner chambers of the palace.

Ram returned almost half an hour later. Urmila noticed immediately that he was without any of his royal insignias. The white umbrella and the retinue reserved for the yuvaraj were missing. There was a calm resoluteness on Ram’s face but his eyes looked uncharacteristically sad. Her husband, in contrast, looked white with fury. Her heart sank—the worst had happened.

Kausalya got up with unrestrained relief and led him to the seat meant for the yuvraj. He stopped short and said, his tone clear and soft, ‘That seat is too high and unmerited for me, mother. I have come back with my father’s commands that he wishes Bharat to be given the throne and that I should leave immediately for the Dandaka forest for fourteen years. I am not a crown prince, mother, but soon shall be a hermit living in exile in a forest,’ he said. ‘I came here to tell you this. Give me your blessings, mother.’

Kausalya looked dumbstruck, her face ashen. She would have crumpled in a heap had not Lakshman and Ram held her steadily. Sumitra rushed to her side as did Sita and Urmila. Lakshman politely requested the others to leave, citing a change of plan, the announcement of which would be made later.

‘What are you saying, son?’ she said weakly. ‘What is happening? How can you leave us? How shall I live without you?’

‘These are my father’s wishes, I have to obey them,’ said Ram quietly, his face stoic and expressionless. ‘And I believe that it is my dharma, my duty. How can I break my father’s word?’

Urmila could see that Ram was deliberately impassive in his manner, keeping his emotions in check. Was it to protect his mother from further anguish? He was leaving behind a mother who was old and weak and who had been living in a world of darkness for as long as Ram could recall. Her heart full of pain, frustration, fury and vengeance, she was surviving on the single hope that one day she would be the queen mother when Ram would be king. And even as Lakshman exploded in naked fury, Urmila saw Ram containing his pain and masking it with a smile.

‘A fourteen-year exile!’ exclaimed Lakshman furiously. ‘What crime have you committed that you have been given such an extreme punishment reserved for the most vile offence? Or is it to have you out of the way for Bharat to take the crown?’

Ram simply shook his head and tried to pacify his angry brother. But he refused to be appeased. ‘My old father has lost his head over his young wife! And only a weak-willed man could do what he has done!’ he seethed contemptuously. He turned to his mother. ‘Do you know why he has made this sudden pronouncement? Because he was forced to acquiesce to the two boons he had given to Kaikeyi when she had rescued him during the battle against Sambarasura!’