The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

To Begin a War (among other things)

Surpanakha went flying towards a large palace, hands in the air, her eyes narrowed with malicious intent as she swerved this way and that in order to dodge cawing crows and birds, particularly dewey clouds who seemed ready to rain, and pebbles thrown into the air by unassuming kids in order to reach Janasthan, kingdom of Khar and Dushan in order to exact her vengeance on the two brothers and their wife.

Khar and Dushan were a pair of twins, but they weren't good and well-meaning like Lakshman and Shatrughan. They were large, quite wide, and tall, with thin, visible hair covering their bellies. They wore their hair long, and their mustaches were oiled and curved. It was said that their laughter, only heard when they killed, echoed throughout India. They drank the blood of mortal men without a blink, and killed their own men if they had sparked their wrath. They also happened to be the highly overprotective brothers of Surpanakha.

Like Lakshman and Shatrughan, however, they fought. They fought a lot. Normally, it was who was the better brother, who was the most fearsome warrior, who looked the most fierce, and such, but occasionally things got out of hand, like who could fit the most berries in their mouth, and whose fangs were the shiniest and that was when Surpanakha often had to intervene. They owed her for that, and they knew it.

Surpanakha landed in a heap, but managed to pick herself up with whatever dignity she had left before anyone noticed. "I've got to get better at that," she muttered, and with her head high, threw open the doors of the kingdom, and walked in, one hand over her nose, eyes flashing dangerously. And there, she saw her two brothers, both growling, eyes swirling with smoke and black They were already in bad enough moods.

"I told you," Khar growled to his messenger, who cowered at his feet, his fists clenching so that his long claws dug into his skin, "To not come back alive from that place if you did not make the king surrender to us. And what did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO?" He stood up, throwing his goblet to the ground. "You went there, practically begging for them to surrender because we were "running out?"" He raised his fist threateningly, but Dushan quickly stood up as well and sat him down, along with him.

"Ah Khar, don't do it," he murmured thoughtfully. "You know, I'm sure that if the messenger goes back and begs again, the other king will pity him and us so much that he would just kill him instead, no?" Khar turned towards him, eyes blazing, but Dushan continued. "Why doesn't he just become the enemy king's messenger?" he stroked his thin beard and raised his bushy eyebrows, leaning into the messenger with wide, manic eyes. "Or is he already? Do you know the penalty for spying?"

The messenger raised his hands, eyes wide with fright, but before he could say a word, Khar thumped his sword and getsured for the guards to take him away to the prison, where he would no doubt be executed. Janasthana was known for its ruthlessness and torture of prisoners. Surpanakha almost smiled as he was dragged away, screaming and shouting, hands at his neck, before she walked up to her fuming brothers.

"What is it?" Khar hissed, sitting down again, his anger immediately cooling down to a simmer once the messenger was led away and he saw his beloved sister in front of him. "Was it another marriage proposal? What did they do this time, did they try to drag you away by force?" he stood up immediately, eyes blazing some more, and this time, Dushan didn't stop him. Perhaps he would have, if he weren't paying such close attention to Surpanakha's nose, which was covered.

"Choti Behen," he used the loving term in Hindi meaning "little sister", "What has happened to your nose? Who did that?" Suddenly, he too stood up as well as Surpanakha removed her hands and put her nose high up into the air. Both of the brothers blazed with fire,and Khar clenched his fists as Dushan paled, not with fright, but with immense self control of his anger. "WHO-I mean, who, did that." he hissed, his veins visible as they pulsed furiously in his neck. "Who? Who dares touch our sister?"