The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

Guilt of a Prince, Lament of a King

Ram rushed back, his heart beating with a sense of dread that he could not seem to silence, not with the most rational thoughts. His sixth sense had never fooled him before, and truly he never wished it would, but in that moment, he hoped, he prayed that he was wrong. All he wanted was to see his brother, standing out of the hut, with Sita inside, perhaps cooking something. Then he could tell her that it was all a plot. All of it. Try to make up for it with something else. He closed his eyes shut.

Finally, they fluttered open as he skidded to a halt. Right in front of him, eyes clouded with tears, was a fair, tall man, with short, reddish hair, holding a bow in his hands so tightly that his knuckles were white. Right in front of him was the brother who somehow had disobeyed his orders, who was supposed to be protecting his wife. Which meant that Sita was currently alone, unprotected, in the middle of the wilderness.

Ram cried out, almost falling to his knees, but Lakshman quickly ran forward and caught him before he could fall. "What are you doing?" Ram cried, steadying himself up again. "You were supposed to be with Sita while I gave chase! Those were solemn orders, Lakshman! I told you not to go anywhere or do anything I told you to protect her! I told you to not leave her even when I screamed out for help! What happened?"

Lakshman shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He did not speak of what Sita had said to him. In his eyes, saying something against his bhabhi to his brother was treason, and completely wrong. "I-I, we both were scared! I drew a protective line around the cottage, and Sita bhabhi told me, she pleaded with me to come here! I was so conflicted! Your orders versus hers! What could I do, bhaiyya?"

Ram screamed, stumbling back. No, no, no, this could not be happening. His mind felt bruised, as if it had just been hit with lightning, and was fizzing out. A steady sense of doom that had been trailing him while he gave chase to that deer had finally caught up to him and smacked him right atop the head. "I can tell you what you were supposed to do, Lakshman! You were supposed to listen to me! Sita can't defend herself! You can! I can! Y-you-"

Orders. Orders, disobeyed. It did not make any sense, and yet it did. But he threw the latter part of his mind, the part that claimed that something said by Sita surely provoked Lakshman to act so rashly against his orders, away. "Come on." he breathed, though he felt breathless. "Come on, let us not waste any time! We need to go back! Best case scenario, Sita is there, waiting for us-right?" His words caught in the middle of the air, and he shook his head, grabbing Lakshman's arm and pulling him towards the hut again.

But as he brushed apart the last branch, every breath of his seemed to slow down. The flutter open of his eyelashes only gave way to something much worse than not knowing. The only thing worse than not knowing. Knowing. He saw the line his brother had claimed to draw, fizzling like lightning with unrestrained magic. He saw the fallen plate of fruits and rice. He saw the torn cloth. The torn cloth of white. The color of purity, defiled with dirt. "Sita," he mumbled, rushing past the line and into the hut.

So empty. So silent. The rather small cottage had never felt so spacious. It had no Sita inside it, and though Ram knew, he knew, he didn't stop searching. He turned over pots and pans as if Sita could fit into them. He opened the containers of food and scattered them on the ground as if Sita could hide in them. He opened all the doors and checked all the cabinets as if he thought Sita was playing with them. "Sita..." he trailed off, hands shaking, and stumbled backwards out of the doorway, where he fell on the ground.

"Lakshman." He began, turning around towards his brother, who looked around at the mess with a pale face. "Why did you leave her? Why? Why did you listen to that crazy woman's pleads? Why did you give her up to be eaten up by monsters and vengeful rakshasas? WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING SO RASH?! Why would you leave her here like bait for a monster? She's dead! She's dead! " He stood up, pointing a finger at Lakshman, before pointing all around him, driven by anger and sorrow.