The Inseparable Princes

57. Kabandha

Dandakaranya always looked extremely beautiful. The lush green forest, filled with such a variety of greens. Bharata would've loved to come here and paint. Paint the simple, natural scenery, or some mighty demons. Either way, he would have a lot to do there, if he brought his canvasses and paints and brushes. It had so many beautiful, wild flowers of a variety of naturally bright colours. They were so pigmented, that the trio would even make paints out of them sometimes, to while away some time. And the berries and tubers. Wow! They were so delicious that sometimes they wondered why these fruits weren't eaten in the palace. Some of them were poisonous, however, and it was important that they didn't consume those, but otherwise, there wasn't any trouble from natural elements. The rain got heavy and rash at times. The winds blew like crazy sometimes. The sun shone so brightly, the humidity rising so much, that they'd feel like they were getting cooked. But they always had a good source of water. And fire. Everything always went in smoothly.

But as the duo, not the trio, walked past the outstretched branches of trees, the forest seemed to be losing its charm. They were moving away from Godavari little by little. They were moving away from the place they had made their home for so many years. The sun was starting to beat down on them even more harshly. Down south, they knew, it was always a lot hotter and was more humid. They had walked quite a distance in complete silence. And that was almost scary. For when Rama and Lakshmana were together, silence, even if of a comfortable sort, was usually missing. They would talk about something or the other in the universe. They'd chatter and joke and laugh and chuckle endlessly. Or if it was a sad occasion, they'd at least try to comfort each other. This melancholy was never there in their relationship. They shared anything and everything with the other, because it was trust that held them together.

Rama stopped walking for a moment, panting. Lakshmana stopped too, worried about if his brother was too tired to carry on. But that wouldn't happen. They were going to have to move on, look for Sita, for otherwise, they'd never know how or where she is.

"Lakshman," started Rama thoughtfully. Suddenly, his patient, intelligent and rational brain had returned to work. "Why did you leave Sita alone?" he asked, not accusingly, but rather curiously.

Lakshmana looked down, looking like he would burst into tears. That was the most hurtful thing he had ever had to hear in his entire lifetime.

"Tell me, Lakshman. Why do you hesitate? There must be some reason. I know my brother will never do unreasonable things, being the most realistic person that you are." said Rama, looking at him, head tilted slightly.

Lakshmana composed himself, and took a deep breath.

"I-I don't want to talk about it." he said firmly.

"Why on earth would you want to bottle it up in yourself? Tell me, Lakshman, please!" cried Rama earnestly. "What could've been the reason? You didn't believe that shriek, now did you? You didn't, I do know that much. Tell me, Laksh. I believe you. Tell me."

Believe you? Is that what he just said? Lakshmana looked up at him, tears filling his eyes. He wanted to hug his brother and cry, knowing that he would always have his back, but he couldn't do that. Rama was in a more vulnerable state, and it was required for him to be kept away from all things of the sort that he wanted to know.

"No, Bhaiya."

"Lakshman, tell me." repeated Rama.

"Bhaiya, nothing had happened. I just left." lied Lakshmana.

"You still can't lie to me. Don't behave like this-this-whatever has happened to us in the last few days will ever bring a gap in the relationship that we both share, you understand that?" said Rama, sounding slightly angry.