The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

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Raja Dasharath, king of the world, ruler of Kosala, residing in Ayodhya, responsible for the prosperity of his kingdom, father of Ram, Bharat, Lakshman, and Shatrughan, husband of Kaushalya of Kosala, Kaikeyi of Kekeya, and Sumitra of Kashi, was dead. The three queens had seen it, sitting at their husband's bedside, they had witnessed the life slowly drained out of him. And they had felt it too, as if a part of their heart was being ripped away from their breathing bodies.

Kaushalya sobbed at the side of Dasharath's arm when the medic simply shook his head solemnly. "Dasharath....Dasharath...my husband! Why were you fated so? Why were you cursed, you, one who loves your wives and sons more than anything, who would give up his life for his kingdom, who would forever uphold truth and justice in his land? Always, always, the Gods take the best people on Earth away from us! Dasharath! Come back!"

Kaikeyi was frozen as Kaushalya wailed. He had spoken again and again, feebly and quietly, of the curse. That he was cursed to die of separation from his son. Was that not what happened to him? Was she at fault for this? Hadn't she only exiled his son? Kaikeyi wiped away a tear, and took in a deep, shuddery breath. No, no she wasn't. If Bharat returned and was king, it was all worth it, all of the pain, all of the suffering, all of the loud sobs of the mourning widow that would ring in her ears and haunt her till her death, everything.

Sumitra looked up, wiping away the quiet tears that had escaped from her eyes. Her narrowed eyes studied Kaikeyi shrewdly, who squirmed under the intense gaze. Sumitra felt like screaming, smashing her hand into the mirrors which Kaikeyi stared into so aloofly. Sumitra sniffled, before blinking and turning towards the medic. "Preserve my husband's body," she murmured. "Write a letter immediately for Bharat and Shatrughan to return."

-----O-----

Shrutakirti stared bleakly as the messenger walked into their room. Over and over again, the four of them had discussed tensely to each other of the weird feelings bubbling in their stomachs. Clearing his throat, the man placed the letter on the table and left, not showing his back to the four. Mandavi looked at the rest of the family, before reaching over and unfolding the letter with trembling hands.

"Bharat, Shatrughan, Mandavi, Shrutakirti,

Return to Kosala immediately. You need to return to Kosala immediately. Do not delay. Do not worry about farewells. You need to come back. You cannot afford to waste time. Come back now."

The parchment fell from Mandavi's fingers, fluttering to the ground almost innocently. Anyone could pick it up and read it, and know only the same and nothing less from it as the four addressed in it knew. Bharat looked up sharply and his eyes widened as Shrutakirti tightened her hands on Shatrughan's arm as she swallowed. "We need to go," Bharat began tensely, looking at his wife, who had immediately gotten up and was brushing herself off. "Come on, Shatru, Kirti. We need to leave. That letter sounded tense. Something very, very bad has happened. "

Shatrughan just watched the backs of Bharat and Mandavi as they left for their room, pulling a pillow closer to his stomach and hugging it while his wife began to pack. Shatrughan swallowed, clutching the side of his abdomen, which had suddenly started to throb terribly with a dull pain. His eyes followed Shrutakirti's arms, which were trembling as she quickly stuffed all of the clothes and jewelry that she had into a small pack. He stumbled forward and hugged her tightly for a second, and breathed into her hair. A calming scent that often soothed his racing heart. For some reason, that moment, it only made it quicken.

"Shatru-What do you think has happened? What would make Rani Sumitra write so urgently, as if she could barely muster the strength to write? W-what do you think has happened? Something maybe to one of the queens? Maybe Sita didi has had a relapse of her hypothermia?" Shrutakirti breathed into his ear, dropping her jewelry, which landed on the marble floors, pearl beads rolling every which way. Neither seemed to notice as Shatrughan shook his head and tightened his grip on her shoulders as they shook slightly.