SITA’S SISTER (33 page)

‘I didn’t marry him for love as you and Sita did; that is where, probably, I went wrong. I married him for all the wrong reasons, in fact!’ she said tersely. ‘I tried to love him, I tried so hard and if this episode would not have happened I think we could have succeeded… We barely had any time to get to know each other, forget falling in love! And the worst of it all is that he abandoned me as I thought he would and I hate him for that! I have no one to blame but myself and his mother! Who else can I blame? My fate or the choices I made?’

‘But he has not abandoned you…he will come back to you! He is repenting for the crime he believes needs to be rectified. He is punishing himself too, can’t you see?’

‘Bharat the perfect brother, Bharat the virtuous son of the evil mother, Bharat the noble king who abandoned his throne—and his wife—to perform the severest of penances to repay for the injustice on his brother! I am sick of these lofty words. Why is it that I come last in his list of priorities? Like him, I am expected to be noble. But, I confess, I am not. I cannot be as selfless as him. He is great but what about me? Where am I, who am I? His chattel to be discarded or picked up whenever he wishes?’ she cried, her hands wringing in nervous agitation. ‘And why am I waiting for him to return to me? I do not have the patience and the perseverance to wait for so long. I want love, I want him and not some noble ideals thrown at me to seek solace as a dutiful, devoted wife! I want to feel him, touch him, kiss him, make love to him, talk to him, scream at him but he is not there…’ she sighed, spent after the outburst. ‘Oh Urmi, how do you handle this despair, this big, terrible void? I know you are going through the same agony but I cannot be as brave, as strong and as forgiving as you! I feel like a mad, caged animal. You are alone, Urmi, but not lonely; you have his love, his memories…and what do I have? A long stretch of wasted years just waiting for a man I cannot love anymore? I am tired of society’s definition of me. How long can I conform to its rules? All of these questions keep troubling my mind continuously…they are driving me crazy!’

Urmila felt helpless as she witnessed her sister’s violent, crazed despair, but she did not shed a single tear for herself. She could not forget the promise she had given Lakshman—that she would not cry for him. Mandavi’s piteous plight broke her heart but all she could do was watch dry-eyed, filled with an impotent anxiety and a pounding pain.

‘It is Lakshman. It is his love that helps you get through, isn’t it, Urmi?’ said Mandavi, her voice suddenly calm and composed. ‘It has always been about him—your self-abnegation, self-denial and unflinching will to not give him up. His love gives you strength and hope. That is the power of love…which I don’t have…’

Mandavi looked and sounded broken and utterly disillusioned. Urmila walked up to her and gently embraced her. Mandavi held on to her, clinging and trembling, her body wracked with dry sobs. ‘Free me, Urmi, free me from this madenning pain!’ she sobbed. ‘Give me some hope to live on.’

Urmila did not reply. She held her sister closely, waiting for her to calm down. As the sobs subsided, Urmila gently wiped the tears from Mandavi’s pale face. ‘That hope lies within you, dear,’ she said softly, looking deep into her troubled eyes. ‘It is there, that light which we can see only when in the dark. See it. Follow it. If you are dark within, you see only darkness around you. Follow the light within you. And learn to smile—that small curve can straighten up a lot of things, believe me. That’s what Lakshman told me—smile always and suddenly all goes well. And that’s all we have, anyway, the power to smile and make ourselves happy.’

Mandavi sat silent for a long while. Urmila wondered if she had heard her at all. Then she saw Mandavi slowly gathering herself together to strike up a small resemblance of a smile.

‘Above all, Mandavi, one has to survive on will, on the convictions that life has to go on irrespective of everything, and not just on hope, love and memories. You are living on memories, Mandavi, and that too the unpleasant ones which are capable of evoking more negativity than nostalgia,’ Urmila reminded her gently.

Mandavi’s lips trembled. ‘I cannot forget what has happened but yes, somewhere along the way I seem to have forgotten to smile, as you just reminded me. Oh, Urmi, what could I have done without you?!’ she smiled through her drying tears. ‘It would be very mean and selfish of me but I am thankful you are here with me, and not with Sita in the forest. I think I need you more. You are our glue! And that is what you have alway been for us—an adhesive binding us sisters together, holding us up. Not a very flowery praise, but true. You are our binding spirit!’ she said with a tremulous smile.

‘See, you look so lovely!’ exclaimed Urmila, giving her a quick hug. ‘Not a sour puss any longer!’

‘What do we do now, Urmi?’ asked Mandavi simply. ‘How do we spend these long years?’

‘Good grief, stop worrying about the whole stretch. Take each day as it comes, and get busy!’ she said briskly. ‘So, what are you reading these days? Did you get some new books?’

‘I haven’t been reading at all! It’s been more than a year, I think,’ replied Mandavi dolefully.

‘What? But you are such a quick, avid reader. You used to wolf down books! Or else, scour high and low for new ones; that used to be your day’s sole goal!’ Urmila reminded her gently. ‘Do it now—you have all the time in the world.’

Mandavi nodded, her eyes brightening up. ‘Yes, I shall. I shall start by searching around here and meanwhile I shall send for my books from Mithila. Ma will be happy to let go of that huge pile! In fact, I think I might just start my own collection here, a full wall-to-wall library stacked with books!’ Mandavi’s eyes were shining now.

‘Yes, do that. You can ask Guru Vasishtha or Guru Kashyap for guidance. They would know the right sources. And check out their collection too…?’

Mandavi flashed her another quick smile. ‘Good idea!’ she chimed exuberantly, her voice strong with a new vitality, a fresh purpose. ‘Right away, today itself before I can push it to another day, I shall meet them this evening after their court meeting gets done.’

Urmila grinned and made a move to go. ‘Wait, Urmi,’ she said. ‘Where’s Kirti?’

‘In the kitchen, busy with Ma Kaikeyi—they are planning a grand feast…it’s Ram’s natal day tomorrow.’

‘Oh, is it?’ Mandavi looked surprised. ‘I was completely oblivious.’

‘Now you won’t be!’ she said pertly. ‘In fact, I had come here to tell you that. I have already decorated up the palace in whatever way I could. It’s time we celebrated these small things and enjoyed living, don’t you think so, Mandavi? There is a puja too. Shatrughna is hoping to get Bharat to come for the puja.’

Mandavi’s face flooded with colour, a soft glow in her eyes. ‘Is he?’ she asked after a long pause, ‘Will he come?’ Mandavi looked anxious.

‘Frankly, I am not too sure but if he does, he will come and meet you, Mandavi. He does love you, dear, however much your hurt heart tells you otherwise,’ she said. ‘He is one of the most gentle, kindest people I know and he could never, ever hurt you intentionally. We said unkind, harsh words for them but the deep truth is that these brothers are too noble, too selfless. Just so good that we are so bad to them! I have said a lot of mean, nasty things to Lakshman too!’ she laughed sadly. ‘I regret them now…’

Preparing for the next day’s celebrations had exhausted her. She was tired—her feet ached from running around the palace grounds, to the kitchen and the great hall where the puja was going to be held. But all this activity could not assauage the ache in her heart. She remembered the preparations for Ram’s coronation and was flooded with a deluge of fresh memories… She was dressing up for the ceremony in a hurry, and Lakshman had squeezed in just a minute to peek into their chamber to let her know which sari he would like her to wear, choosing the hairpin for her…

Tomorrow would be the day Ram was born: did they even realize what day it was back in the forest? What were they doing today, right now? It had been more than a year since they had left the palace, walking down these very steps she was decking up with fresh marigolds.

Urmila’s eyes still could not forget how Lakshman had left her in her room. Her reminisicing eyes followed as Lakshman walked out of their bed chamber, down the winding marbled staircase, through the tall, carved doors of their palace and out into the darkened dawn of that day. She had wanted to run after him, but could not. Instead, she waited for him. To come back.

The day had dawned pleasantly sunny and bright, streaming in the rays of happiness in the palace afer a long time. It was the celebration of Ram’s day of birth and it was a success as Urmila had envisaged, planned and organized. It was after much urging and persuasion that the senior queens had agreed to make that day special and Kausalya was visibly delighted. Enthused with renewed energy and gusto, she had helped Urmila at every step of the preparations. Urmila refrained from being over-ostentatious with the decorations. But each of the carved door frames of the palace was festooned with flaming marigolds; there were rangolis on the marbled corridors and all along the long flight of steps, adding the right splash of colour. The gustatory experience was certain to be as satisfying with Kaikeyi and Kirti taking over the royal kitchen to host a commemorative feast for the gurus, courtiers and family members. It was a closed affair but the jubiliation resounded all over the city as the doors of the royal kitchen were kept open to serve the hungry and the impoverished the entire day.

Kausalya was the lady of the show and she presided over it as only a queen could. From the smallest details to the biggest decision in the kitchen, she saw to it that she had her say, the presence of Kaikeyi notwithstanding. While she fussed over Kirti affectionately, helping her out occasionally, she was clearly displeased at the younger queen’s presence in the kitchen. She was unusually imperious: throwing curt orders, nitpicking over inanities. She would look through Kaikeyi frostily, talking to Kirti but addressing her, making the younger queen so distinctly uncomfortable that Urmila thought she would walk off in a huff, as the elder queen would have preferred. But Kaikeyi kept her cool, and took it all silently—a far cry from the majestic queen of last year. The air was thick with tension and Urmila thought it wise to gently divert her attention by taking to her chamber where the gifts were laid to be given to the poor.

But Kausalya was not to be fooled. ‘It is my son’s birthday today and I don’t want Kaikeyi anywhere near!’ snapped Kausalya. ‘I have decently tolerated her all this while as my dignity does not allow me to be petty. I have even agreed to have meals in her presence as I did not want to disrupt the peace of the house but don’t expect me to be so magnanimous as to embrace her in the celebrations. Don’t think I did not notice your diplomatic overture, Urmila,’ she added sternly.

Urmila was unfazed, and tried to coax her out of her annoyance. ‘It is your son’s birthday and all the more reason for you to forgive everything and everyone from the bottom of your happy heart,’ she explained. ‘For the last three days, Ma Kaikeyi has taken pains to prepare all the favourite dishes of Ram—does that not show affection?’

‘No, it is just a false demonstration of it,’ the queen’s tone was waspish. ‘If I really had my way, I wouldn’t have allowed her to participate in this celebration at all,’ she said deliberately, giving her a pointed look. ‘It would have been better if she had stayed put in her palace where she had so deviously designed to expel my son from his home, his palace, his throne, his kingdom—and above all, from his parents’ hearts. But that she failed at, and my poor husband died for that!’

Her eyes glinted, her tone suddenly vicious. ‘Am I to ever forget that it was she who first stole my husband and my son with all that shower of love and affection? And still unsatiated, she then drove them away from me through her plotting?’ she demanded. ‘I never received the respect due to a queen once Kaikeyi came into our lives. My husband had all the respect for me but never any love—that was reserved for Kaikeyi alone! I was no better or worse off than one of her servants!’

Her exaggeration was a magnification of her feelings as well—the seeminly small incident in the kitchen had opened the floodgates of all her bitterness. ‘She killed my husband, and exiled my son but I had lost both of them to her a long time ago; that temptress, that witch with her fake smile and fake love!’ she said savagely. ‘But what still haunts me is that both my husband and my son loved her madly, both were so devoted to her. Almost slavish in their love… What was I lacking as a wife and as a mother?’

‘Nothing,’ said Urmila quietly, ‘just the conviction and belief that your son and husband loved you as dearly, but you could not see it as you allowed your resentment for the younger queen to cloud your judgement.’ She said as diplomaticlly as she could. ‘Your dislike for her made you dislike her love for them. Your jealousy made you jealous of their love as well.’

‘And they have gone, but she continues to affect me!’ said the queen, her lips pursed in a thin, bitter line. ‘I have suffered her through all these years…yes, in jealous anger, in quiet humiliation and silent indignity. And I see her even today—so beautiful, proud and regal—still so calm after the storm she brought upon us. I cannot bring myself to like her, forget forgiving her. My small solace is that she too is suffering the same grief of separation from her son. But victory is mine for my son will one day come back to me; hers won’t ever!’ she pronounced with undisguised maliciousness. ‘My son loves me, her son hates her. And that is my vindication, my retribution, my justice. It is poetic!’