The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

Rainbows, Relief, and a Raging Ram

Song of the Chapter: Shabaashiyaan from Mission Mangal

Lakshman was so caught up in thinking about the weather and all its symbolic means that he forgot that he was literally free falling towards the ground. Fortunately, soon, the chariot started turning around in mid-air, which made him hyper aware of the possibly life threatening situation that he was stuck in. But what was the problem? Lakshman was always stuck in life threatening situations.

Except, he had finally managed to kill Indrajit, and was expecting some praise from his brother, if anything. Now, after this fiasco, all they had left to do was kill Ravan (which bhaiyya would undoubtedly do), and then he could go home, watch Ram be crowned, and leisurely take care of his brother his entire life. If he died now, then the cosmos had decided to play a universe-wide joke on him. Which wasn't news. But still.

Muttering some word lowly to himself that Sumitra wouldn't have been too tickled at (read: would have been deprived of weapons for), he grasped the back of the chariot seat and leaped into action, grasping the reins with both hands with practiced ease. Driving chariots had never been his expertise (Ram bhaiyya had always liked socializing with the horses, or just socializing in general, more than him), but he managed just fine.

Or would have managed just fine, if not for one tiny little problem. Indrajit had controlled the chariot with his illusions. The horses were gone, wiped away the moment that the demon prince had hit the ground at the bottom of the canyon. Rolling his eyes as if everything in life was an annoyance to him (which it was), Lakshman let go of the reins, and busied himself trying to find something that he could burn.

No, Lakshman didn't (just) have pyrotechnical anger management issues, he was also trying to find something that he could signal Hanuman with. "Argh, where are the flammable things when you need them! When Indrajit needs to kill me, he has all the agni arrows in the world. When I want to, then there's a freaking rainstorm!" Lakshman rubbed his eyes exhaustedly, and sat down in the chariot.

Before proceeding immediately to stand up again. "NO! No giving up! I want to see bhaiyya be crowned, and like heck I'll die like a pathetic death like an unprepared skydiver! The universe can't play a joke on me! The universe is a joke to me! Hanuman must be busy smashing skulls or whatever he gets up to in his free time, Vibhishan would be drinking tea, and Ram bhaiyya doesn't even know of my predicament! So now I'll rely on the only thing that helps me each time!"

"Myself!" Instead of praying to god like any normal hero in a predicament would do, Lakshman summoned his bows and arrows with a mantra that Bharat had taught him. ("Accio arrow! And bow!") Then, instead of launching a parachute arrow like any good skydiver would do, Lakshman fished out a shield arrow from his messy quiver. ("Oh god, where is the stupid shield arrow when I need it? I knew I should have listened to Bharat bhaiyya and organized my weapons alphabetically.")

-----O------

So bright was his solution that it was visible from the vanar camps, where the generals had long congregated with Ram to eagerly (and nervously) await Lakshman. "What is that?" Neel asked, pointing towards a bright purple cannonball racing towards the earth more rapid than Vibhishan when he spotted Green Tea. "Is that a message from the Gods?"

"Why do the Gods have to be so cryppptiiiiicccc?" Nal cried, falling to his knees, shaking his fists at the sky. "No offense to you, Prabhu, but you guys need to just send clear messages. The fact that you're sending a sign to us mere mortals in the first place means that our mental capacity is obviously not up to your expectations, so you how can you expect us to discern whatever signal you're trying to send?"