The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

A Raghuvanshi Family Reunion

    Lakshman was the very last to sit down in the carriage. Bharat sniffled, Ram waved goodbye to the ashram forlornly, and even cheery Shatrughan looked down. Without delay, Sumant began to drive the carriage slowly, and it escaped from the view of the ashram dwellers, down the winding path through the forest.

"I wonder what our parents will say," Bharat began, biting his lip, "when they see us again," Shatrughan grinned, finding a new opportunity to tell a joke.

"Yes, what will they say when they see you, Bharat bhaiyya? Our new family rebel, aren't you?" Bharat blushed, scratching the back of his head as Ram laughed. He had smuggled in all of his paintings onto the carriage even if the guru wanted to keep them. "I wonder what they will say when they see Laksh and I." Shatrughan continued. "They'll be overjoyed at Ram, I know."

Ram smiled sadly. He remembered the pathway to the ashram which they had last trekked down six years ago. The wilting tree saplings, which Lakshman glared at now. The massive boulders lining the side of the dirt road. The steady stream of trickling water that you could only hear, but could almost visualize it. It was as if faded color pictures were brought back to life.

And yet there were new sights as well. New nests, built by aspiring bird parents. Was that some chirping he could hear? Sprouting plants, lined with bright red berries that Maa Sumitra had warned him not to eat. New natural springs that could have been caused by lightning strikes. Ram settled back in for the long ride home. Maa Kaushalya. Maa Kaikeyi. Maa Sumitra. Father Dasharath.

"Kaushalya! Kaikeyi! Raja Dasharath!" an eager squeal was heard from down the corridor. "Our princes are coming home!" Sumitra dashed down the hallway, not caring about elegance, and found her sisters and husband lining pillars with auspicious orange flowers, painting rangoli on the ground, instructing the palace cooks to make special foods, ensuring that the princes were comfortable.

"Falak," demanded Rani Kaikeyi. "Make my Ram's gulab jamuns like you used to do. I want to feed my son with my very own hands." The excited cook nodded and ran away. "Mirza, make sure that Bharat has his set of paints and canvas close by." Kaushalya laughed as Sumitra grasped her behen Kaikeyi's hands and twirled her around.

"Our princes are coming home! Our family is complete!" laughed Raja Dasharath, leaning against the wall for support. Sumitra smiled reminiscently.

"I wonder if Ram still has those beautiful lotus eyes. If Bharat goes around painting anything and everything he can find." Sumitra practically glowed as she spoke fondly of the eldest two. Kaikeyi joined in.

"If Shatrughan pranks everyone he sees, making jokes that can make even our stoic palace guards laugh." Kaushalya didn't want to be left out.

"If Laksh is still our "angry young man" that scares our foreign adversaries into making alliances with us." Kaikeyi wondered, shaking her head. Sumitra leaned in, smirking.

"If he is, perhaps I will dose his bowl with some more chili peppers." Kaushalya cut in, looking horrified.

"Don't! The poor boy already has to consume enough. I'm telling you Sumitra, those peppers are only making him more hot-headed. Did you see him verbally clashing with his servant maid?" The royal family's memory session was cut off by an announcement.

"WELCOME, THE PRINCES OF AYODHYA!" A booming voice echoed through the palace, and silence, before Sumitra began to run urgently, all laughter forgotten. The other three followed, hasty footsteps down the hall as they ran out the main entrance of the palace. A large crowd, all of Ayodhya, was gathered at the front, and cheers rose from it as the carriage rode in, faithful Sumant at the helm.