The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

Portions

King Dasharath was restless, pacing in front of his principal queen, Kaushalya's chamber as she screamed in the pain that was caused by her labour. Sage Vashishta, calm and collected as ever, tried his best to calm the worried king down, but Dasharath refused to sit down, to rest until he saw his baby, and the queen's healthy face. He swallowed hard, and turned around to face the servant-maid who had walked out the door.

"Yes?" he asked anxiously, his hands clenched, and eyebrows furrowed. The woman opened her mouth wide, about to speak, and in that instant, the kind king felt a series of emotions course through him like cold water. Fright, making the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up as if electrified, hope, making his footing more stable, and joy, overwhelming joy making his tense shoulders finally relax, and an unfamiliar smile spread across his face. How had he come to this?

Flashback

The King of Ayodhya hoped this worked. He grasped the bowl of kheer tightly in his calloused hands, making sure it wouldn't shatter. Oh, if the bowl broke and if he lost the pudding, Dasharath wouldn't forgive himself! The queens wouldn't forgive him! His queens, none of the three of them, were able to bear him a child, and this dish was his saviour. The kingdom's saviour. He inhaled deeply. Stalling wouldn't work for long, now would it?

He pushed open the door quietly, and yet all three of his queen's heads bobbed up, faces alight with curiosity. Gulping, he studied them with a weird sense of finality. Kaushalya, the chief queen, the oldest among them. She radiated elegance and quiet strength, a few stray silvery hairs the only evidence of her age. Yet, she was not prideful, and was most welcoming of her companions. Next was Kaikeyi, his favorite. Beautiful and youthful, she almost held a warrior's stance at the moment. It was due to her quick actions in the battlefield that he was alive today. Thankfully, she had charioted away from the area and gotten him medical help for the arrow by which he was struck. Her eyes shine with mysterious strength.

And lastly, Sumitra. The 3rd queen, nothing more. However, she could easily be considered the most motherly. Kind, gentle, sweet. And yet firm when she had to be. She was encouraging, emotional, and chirpy, and was possibly what kept him sane during the straining moments when he realized that he might not have an heir. Never again, King Dasharath realized, and smiled hopefully.

"Kaushalya, Kaikeyi, Sumitra. The gods themselves have provided me with this magic kheer that will grant you a child." A sudden giddiness filled the air, and Sumitra even squealed, clasping her hands together. Dasharath turned towards the excited queen.

"Here, Sumitra, you distribute it." She beamed. Vashishta had strolled into the room, and seemed a bit amused at his decision, although Dasharath couldn't exactly pinpoint why.

"Didi," she scooped half of the pudding into Kaushalya's bowl, and half of it into Kaikeyi's, leaving not even a tiny portion for herself. Dasharath opened his mouth to say something, but Guru Vashishta stopped him.

"Stop king, see what happens. Your youngest queen is kind, but your older ones aren't ignorant." Kaushalya and Kaikeyi, glancing at each other, each fed an astounded Sumitra a small portion from their bowls. Dasharath was joyful at this act of kindness.

"Sumitra's children will be dedicated towards his brothers, due to your queens' generosity. Ayodhya will have courageous and just princes as they would be raised by you!"

Present

"A son, your majesty-" Dasharath didn't wait any longer, and bound into the chamber, where Kaushalya, forehead beaded with sweat, lay asleep, or unconscious, and a nursemaid handed him his firstborn, the crown prince, apple of his eye. The boy had dusky brown skin, large, lotus shaped eyes, perfect nose, and tiny smile. The sun shone brightly through the windows, and rays fell upon his body. He didn't cry, only smile tilting his head from person to person, studying them closely. The boy, although an infant, not just that, a newborn, radiated holiness, auspiciousness, and Vashishta, upon glancing at him, knew that he was godly. Not just so, this prince was the incarnation of Lord Vishnu himself.