The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

The Traitor in our Midst

     It was a normal day in Ayodhya's palaces, let us take a peek inside. Kaikeyi was eating mangoes leisurely on her bed while Manthara fanned her. Kaushalya was praying in the temples, praying for a long life for herself, her sisters, her husband, and her sons and daughters. Sumitra was sitting in her room, sowing a long dhoti cloth, exquisite and foreign, which Shatrughan had managed to tear up.

Ram was busy staring into Sita's eyes as they sat next to each other on their bed, supposed to be reading, but instead having a romantic moment. Shatrughan, after being chased angrily by his mother, was now gorging on the food in the kitchen, laughing tauntingly when Maa Sumitra shook her head in reprimand. Lakshman, of course, was missing somewhere. And Bharat and Shrutakirti had gotten into another fight.

"Painting!" Bharat roared. "Painting is a dignified art that takes time, patience, and skill! Everyone can thread a needle and punch it through a pillow, but not everyone can paint lovely mountains, and perfect landscapes, and immaculate people! Painting takes mastery! For goodness sake, why won't you understand?" Shrutakirti gaped at his arrogant argument, before jutting her chin out stubbornly.

"I won't understand because I refuse to understand ridiculous things!" At this point, Sumitra and Mandavi both stood at the door, not wanting to get into the fight. "And to throw your argument right back at you, anyone can slather paint onto a surface. Painting is messy when you say it is dignified. At least embroidery doesn't get royal blue over all the pristine white walls! And I'd like to see you embroider a flower on a pillow! Go on, go on!" she shouted back in a counter rebuttal, and Bharat pouted.

Shatrughan finally arrived, fancying himself the peacemaker. "Hey! All of you calm down!" he cried angrily, shaking his head. "Personally, I am into ceramics. Not making them, mind you," he continued, when Sumitra went to contradict that sentence. "Just buy them! I pass by the paintings and the embroidery and go to buy the pots, and you know why?" When Bharat shook his head and Shrutakirti raised an eyebrow, he continued.

"I pass them by because I know that two members of my family, my favorite brother and my favorite wife," Shrutakirti smacked his arm. "Ouch! Fine, my favorite brother, and my ONLY wife, happy? Well, they're the skillful ones in those subjects. Besides, ceramics are much better than anything!" he cried happily, and danced away as the fight quieted down. Mandavi sighed. Shatru her enemy had actually managed to deescalate the situation.

Now the entire family sat at the dinner table, conversing lightly. Of course, that all had to end when Mandavi cleared her throat. "I started quilting today!" she squeaked, before bringing up a marvelously crafted patchwork quilt, which was deservedly oohed and aahed over. Of course, Shrutakirti was very proud of her closest sister's accomplishment.

"That looks wonderful, Mandavi! I refuse to believe you started today, such a masterful accomplishment." she smirked, and turned towards Bharat. "And, it could also technically be considered sowing, of which a subcategory is embroidery." Shatrughan groaned as Bharat fumed angrily, before turning towards Mandavi.

"I was ready to congratulate you too, on that. It's quite beautiful, honestly, for only a single day of work. I love the way the colors blend." he exhaled nasally, pinching the bridge of his nose as if in deep, meditative thought. "However, I don't compliment embroidery, needles and threads, messy and impractical." Kaikeyi went to console Bharat as an exasperated Mandavi turned towards Shrutakirti angrily.

"Shruta, did you have to bring that up? Look how it's upset all of us." When Shrutakirti went to respond, she cut her off. "I know Bharat was in the wrong as well, of course I know that, but you instigated the argument! Why would you do that?" Shrutakirti rolled her eyes as Mandavi was caught between the fight once more, a fight between two of the people she loved most dearly; Shrutakirti, her sister, and Bharat, her husband.