SITA’S SISTER (22 page)

‘And you? What about you? That’s what’s bothering me…of course, Mandavi and Kirti will be here…’

‘Shush! Stop worrying. The palace is not a dangerous place!’ she laughed shortly. ‘I have everyone here…’

‘Except Lakshman,’ said Sita quietly. ‘That is what is gnawing at me…I could not stop Lakshman or have you with us. You may try to hide it from me but Urmi, I can feel what you are going through…’ she said helplessly. ‘But, do you know why Lakshman could take such a hard decision? Because he has faith in you. I think he believes in you more than in himself. You are his tower of strength, like you have inadvertently been for us sisters. I might be the oldest but it was you on whom we relied for support and comfort. Lakshman does the same. He could never have left the palace in its current devastated state had it not been for you. He knows that you will be able to hold fort and bring the family together some time, some day…’

‘No, not till all of you return…’ Urmila shook her head, ‘…that is when everything is going to be good again. These fourteen years are going to be a test for each one of us. The pain and suffering is inevitable, but it will be valuable. It teaches us a lot in many ways,’ she said wryly. ‘And, Sita, please I have a request. Don’t ever discuss me with Lakshman, don’t do anything that would remind him of me,’ said Urmila, her eyes steady, her voice steadier. ‘That is my sincere appeal to both you and Ram.’

Sita looked completely flummoxed. She moved closer to her sister, clasping her hands firmly in hers. ‘Don’t make me feel so ashamed, Urmi, that I won’t ever bear to look at myself in the mirror. You make my exile a simple task compared to what you are doing. Not only are you going to be separated from your husband for the next fourteen years, but you don’t want your husband to even think of you lest he digress from his goal to serve his brother. I bow to you, sister, for your vanvaas, your exile here in the palace shall be way harder than mine in the forest. Give me your strength and I know I shall succeed too.’

Sita hugged her and Urmila felt herself close to tears, her eyes hot and burning. She could not collapse now. It was the first time they were going to be separated in all of their eighteen years together and the pain of separation was almost incomprehensible now.

‘Take care, always, Sita,’ she hugged her back. ‘You are so naive, you believe anything and anyone. Don’t go by appearances, dear, please don’t. There’ll be many such Mantharas in the forest as well. Let Ram and Lakshman lead the way and you follow them, as closely as possible. It will be a different world.’

Sita simply nodded her head and Urmila said, ‘Go safely and come back safe.’

Ram and Lakshman were waiting for Sita. Lakshman threw Urmila a strange look. Urmila flushed remembering the cruel words she had thrown at him.

‘I am deeply grateful, Urmila,’ said Ram as Urmila made Sita stand next to him. ‘And not just for dressing her up,’ he smiled faintly. ‘I leave my old parents under your care, and I know they could not have been in kinder hands. You are a remarkable woman—extraordinarily brave and strong. Yet, it is me who is depriving you of the company of your husband, your happiness, for which I cannot be absolved. ‘

His words made Urmila cringe in embarrassment, she could not boast of the strength he claimed she possessed. ‘No, it is for a higher calling, a nobler mission, you are taking my husband. He will always be there for you—in your good times and especially in your hard times,’ she smiled, but Ram could hear the tears in her voice.

It was time for them to leave. The dawn had broken, bringing with it the anguish of the next day. The people in the streets were restless and fervid, angry at the rumours they were hearing. Ram was their crown prince, not Bharat. And why was their beloved prince Ram being sent on exile for fourteen years?

‘Get the chariots ready and take them to the frontiers of the kingdom, Sumantra,’ ordered the old king, his voice weak and trembling. ‘Tell the commanders to take the foot soldiers, horses, elephants and along with the army, take the things necessary for the stay in the forest. Men and money should not be spared…’

‘Are you planning to give a bankrupt kingdom to my son, without an army to protect it and people to rule?’ Kaikeyi interrupted furiously. ‘Is this a picnic you are hosting in the forest?’

The harshness of her words again shocked and angered those present in the room including the courtiers, rishis and the royal members of the family. Lakshman looked disgusted and Kausalya quailed in distress.

Ram, ironically, was the intercessor, as usual, trying to diffuse tempers and salvage a sinking situation. ‘I have no need for all these royal embellishments,’ he refused firmly. ‘After giving up the throne, I have no desire for power or wealth or comfort. I am wearing the bark garment and like a hermit, who needs the bare minimum, I shall lead a life of frugality as is expected of me in the exile. I take your leave now, father, and I have your blessing. I leave behind my mother Kausalya, and Lakshman’s mother Sumitra and wife Urmila under your care. They are three selfless women who will be suffering the worst pangs of parting and separation. Be kind to them when we are no longer here.’

And he bent down to touch the feet of his father. Sita and Lakshman followed suit, touched the king’s feet, then their foreheads, and placed a hand over their hearts, bowing low to await his blessing.

‘My dearest Ram, I know that even in the forest, you shall bring glory to our royal ancestors. Return in all that glory. But before that, forgive this old man for his folly and his sin,’ he said brokenly. ‘By fulfilling my promise, you, my dutiful son, will not allow dishonour to blot my name and that of our line of kings. I am proud of you, my son, but please don’t be ashamed of me.’

Ram embraced his father, more as an act of consolation than mere affection. For the old king, however, his last wish was that he retained the respect in his son’s eyes. He would not have been able to bear that shame. And Ram obliged, his love and respect for his father shining in his eyes, apparent in each gesture.

Kausalya performed the customary aarti for Ram and Sita, to bid them farewell and blessing them for their safe return. She had grown old overnight, as gaunt and haggard as her husband, the wearing effect of anguish and suffering already telling on her. ‘Is my heart made of stone that I am still alive to see this day?’ she wept bitterly. ‘But do as your father has commanded and come back in full glory like the glorious son you are!’

Ram and Sita, in their bark clothes, walked to Kaikeyi. His face serene, Ram said calmly, ‘Farewell, Mother, I am happy that I can fulfil your wish.’ Saying that, he bowed and touched her feet, and the younger queen mother warily touched the top of his head to offer her blessing. Sita followed Ram’s lead but Lakshman stood still and straight, refusing to bow and turned to the other queens. Kaikeyi flushed. Ram merely nodded his handsome head. Lakshman grimaced and bent low to cursorily touch her feet to receive her blessing.

Sumitra was bearing the brunt of the grief with a brave heart and a braver smile. She was the picture of optimism—soft-spoken and kind—propping each one of them with a gentle word.

Lakshman bent down to touch her feet for her blessing, and uttered just a sole word, ‘Ma .’ She embraced him, kissing him on his forehead, and said, ‘I have always been proud of you but today, my dear son, my head cannot look higher. What you have done, no brother has done for another and from now on, it is you who will be the epitome of fraternal love and loyalty, an ideal for generations together. It wasn’t duty but love which has made you accompany your brother and when love surpasses duty, it is salvation. You have made it your dharma. Look after Ram and Sita vigilantly and may you be blessed with the strength to do so. Henceforth, Ram is your father and Sita your mother and the forest is Ayodhya, your place of the future. Go happily, Soumitra, God bless you.’

Urmila felt small witnessing the scene in front of her. Their love was crowned with pride, honour, sacrifice, and above all, happiness. There was no place for maudlin self-pity or wasted sentimentality; it was poetic, almost sublime, exalted in expression and experience.

Sumitra handed the aarti thali of diya, flowers, betel nut and vermilion to Urmila, insinuating it was her turn to perform the aarti for Lakshman. She took it, with steady hands and an unsteady heart, fearing if she would be able to brave the contempt in his eyes. She dared not look into his eyes. But she had to. They were dark, piercing and…tender. Or was it the flickering diya which had softened his expression, wiping the loathing she had been expecting to see in his eyes?

‘Do you think I would fall for that little charade of yours?’ he asked under his breath. Urmila looked stunned, pausing momentarily.

‘We could never hate each other. And hate certainly would not have been able to sustain us for the separation of the next fourteen years. It’s our love which will, Mila,’ he continued in a whisper, barely audible to her ears. ‘And it’s the memory of our full, sustained love which will never make us feel alone or lonely. You’ll be with me always as I shall be with you, my Mila, my Urmila, my eternal enchantress, my woman of passion and strength.’

She felt herself basking in the warmth of his tender look. She smiled slowly, the love emanating from every pore of her body. She needn’t say it; it was there in her eyes, in his eyes, everywhere. And her smile widened at his irreverence; trust him to snatch a conversation with her during a solemn aarti.

‘And yes, smile that wonderful smile of yours which makes the world—and me—fall in love with you each time. I want this image of your smiling face forever, but not without your temper!’ he added with a wry smile. ‘Smile and never shed a tear of grief—promise me that.’

She nodded, ‘Come back, dear warrior, as you would from a war,’ she said, her eyes brimming with fiery pride and glistening with love, as she applied the vermilion on his forehead, ‘…safe and unharmed, glorious and unconquered.’

She bent down to touch his feet as was the custom, but he stopped her by holding her hard by the upper arm. ‘Don’t ever! I am not worthy,’ he said shortly, no longer in a whisper but loud enough for all to hear. He turned to the others and addressed them. ‘If I am being praised so profusely for being the devoted brother, I fail as a good husband, who is leaving behind his bride,’ he paused to look back at her and said with an intensity that matched the burning passion in his eyes. ‘O Urmila, will the world ever know of your inner suffering, your divine sacrifice? But my heart, full of shame and gratitude, knows what you are doing in silence, through your brave smile, your generous heart. Eternally, your Lakshman will be grateful to you and be proud of you. I go now and leave you alone but I leave my soul, my heart, here with you.’

Urmila clasped her neck, her throat constricting with bubbling emotion. Lakshman continued, talking again to those in the room ‘As a husband, I should have taken care of her, looked after her, been here for her and protected her. I am doing none of that but leaving her behind to look after my old parents when as a good son I should have been doing so. I have failed as a husband and as a son. I bow to my mother and my wife and humbly ask for their forgiveness for falling short of that duty and devotion.’

Urmila was close to breaking down, her heart bursting with incredulous happiness and sadness. His mother looked overwhelmed and the others were visibly impressed. And as the room burst in quiet applause, Urmila felt his hands holding her wrists—and just for the quickest second she felt a delirious sensation—he was chaffing the soft, delicate skin of the inner side of her wrist with his thumb. It would be for the last time. He let go of her hands abruptly and turned on his heel, not looking back, to join his brother and Sita in the chariot which was to take them to the border of the kingdom of Ayodhya where the Dandaka forest started. Their fourteen-year exile began today.

Kausalya had got some goods and eatables for the journey and Sita hastened to keep them with the quivers and the bows stacked in the chariot.

‘Why do we need these?’ asked Sita in amazement. ‘We are going to the forest as ascetics, not warriors! Why should we accept violence and these weapons of violence? Do you go as a recluse or as a kshtriya, O Ram?’

It was a moral question Sita had challenged Ram with at the outset of their journey, Urmila observed with an immense sense of pride for her sister. How justifiable was this display of prowess; wasn’t non-violence a better option?

Ram looked at his wife with affection and admiration. ‘Agreed, but the duty of a kshtriya is to protect the helpless—and the rishis in the forest we are going to are helpless against the insane violence of the demons. These weapons are to protect them, and us, if need be,’ he smiled.

Meanwhile, the crowds in the streets grew louder and fuller, and had started following the chariot carrying Ram, Sita and Lakshman. ‘Don’t go so fast!’ they implored, running behind the moving chariot ‘Go slow, we want to catch the last sight of our beloved prince.’

Urmila saw Ram instructing the chariot to stop, and her heart skipped a joyous beat. Was he turning back home with Lakshman and Sita? She heard him speaking loudly and clearly, to the vast sea of people which had submerged the chariot. ‘I am going to the forest with Sita and Lakshman to do what my father has ordered. For me, my father’s word holds utmost importance, so please do not stop me, O citizens of Ayodhya,’ he enunciated each word with clarity and strength. ‘I know and respect the great love you reserve for me and I shall be happy and grateful, if you have the same love and respect for my brother Bharat from now on. He will be your king as appointed by my father…’ There was an immediate uproar of protest and Ram’s next word silenced the angry clamour. ‘He is younger but he is good, wise and kind, having all the qualities of a good king. He is brave and strong and shall always protect you. He is your king, so give him your love and loyalty. I leave for the forest now, and have your blessing. Please give the same blessing to my unhappy, old father and my brother Bharat.’