The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

Poisonous Intentions

Kaikeyi had a childhood nursemaid. One that she had brought into Ayodhya along with her. The nursemaid was a hunchback and hobbled around with a knobbly old wooden walking stick. She had a tiny, pug-like nose and squinted eyes and a large, thin mouth which was filled with yellowing, decaying teeth as well as silvery white hair that she tied in a messy bun in the back of her head. Make no mistake by the evil appearance, however, this nursemaid did not bid Kaikeyi nor her husband any ill will of sorts.

She loved Kaikeyi like her own daughter. She had been the one who essentially brought up the princess, and Kaikeyi had grown attached to her like a daughter would a mother, and had begged to bring her along to Ayodhya once she got married. Dasharath, completely lovestruck and desperate to wed Kaikeyi, agreed without a second thought. And so the nursemaid had followed Kaikeyi into married life.

This nursemaid, whose days were now spent fanning the lounging queen, ambling her way around the palace, or picking mangoes (er-rather-ordering people to pick mangoes for her and then taking all the credit when Kaikeyi asked), and doing whatever the warrior queen wished her to do. She was a most loyal servant, perhaps only beaten out by Sumant and some other loyal courtiers. She did whatever Kaikeyi asked her to do without a second thought, and always wanted the best for her little princess. Her name was Manthara. And as the common reader will learn, she is quite more than just a nursemaid.

As Raja Dasharath joyfully announced the final decisions and important details about the coronation, Manthara watched from the sidelines. She gasped her walking stick a bit tighter, and growled angrily as her squinty eyes darted across the throne room. All of these courtiers were happily watching as the foolish king laughed with joy. But what about her Kaikeyi? Where was she in all of this? Surely she would be here too, just like Rani Kaushalya and Rani Sumitra?

Or perhaps she had finally realized the true damage that this crowning of that wretched Ram would cause? Was she busy lamenting in her room? Manthara felt her already very small heart break. The poor dear! That Ram ruined everything. That Ram, and that Kaushalya, so fake in her kindness. Manthara knew the ones like her, that fake smile, how she had taken her in, only to have her own son being crown prince.

With narrowed eyes, Manthara stormed away, out of the throne room where the Raja was filling his courtier's ears with lies about the greatness of his son. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! She had seen Bharat grow up before her very eyes, and he was the true crown prince! He had everything, the princely charm, the aristocratic features, the good demeanour! He was calm, kind, caring, skillful, and everything in between.

He didn't show off like that good-for-nothing prince. Manthara continued ambling down the halls, scowling scarily at the dasis, who quickly ran past her, sparing her some frightened glances as she continued to hobble. Most everyone was a bit scared of Manthara. Some dasis gossiped that she was cursed. Some said that she was a witch. Some even went so far as to call her the servant of the Raja of Lanka.

Manthara blanched and spat at the decorations. Decorations that should have been reserved for the coronation of her Bharat. No, instead, they were left for Ram and Kaushalya. The petals? She stepped in them and scattered them, but to her aghast, they still looked beautiful. She tried to tear the flower garland from the walls, but when she let go of the torn garland, it hung from the wall in a beautiful fall. The idols on the windowsills? Manthara even went so far as to try to smash them, but she couldn't. The idols would not budge, but their faces seemingly turned from pleasant and smiling to frowning angrily back at her. Manthara beat her chest angrily, but quickly stopped when she stumbled without the aid of her walking stick.

Finally, she reached the chambers of her mistress, who was like a daughter to her. Without knocking, for that was the level of intimacy she shared with Kaikeyi, she walked into her chambers, head high and banging her walking stick on the ground. She expected sobs, loud, angered wails. When she would hear them, Manthara would call for Dasharath, show him his sobbing wife, and threaten that Kaikeyi would commit suicide if he didn't not crown Ram king. But to Manthara's utter and complete surprise, Kaikeyi was not sobbing.