Palace Of Illusion

Prologue: A Juvenile and Withering Night

"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations."

~~ Anais Nin ~~

Year 1999

Gupta Nivas

Rishikesh

The wind was oddly brisk on an April night, gushing the branches of mango and guava trees, intermingling in an archway above the iron wrought gates that shone brilliantly in the moonlight. The driveway was surrounded by shrubs of colorful flowers lined up on either side of the graveled pathway, leading to a two storied, grey stoned bungalow, the twinkling of stars blanketed the night's canvas lending a pleasant majestic appearance to its surroundings. The night was asleep except for the chirping of crickets and swish movements of leaves. The house in itself was huge, ancestral that spoke of royalty.

The partial darkness was punctured by a lone bulb in the backyard, the only light source in the peaceful home that inhabited a typical family. The stillness of the surroundings was slowly picking up its liveliness as an elder voice, its timber considerably soft laced with experience and an understanding towards life, whispered an age-old tale – a myth.

"Each story has a moral. Each character has its own contribution. Nothing is worthless in this world. We just choose an easy way out, taking just enough pieces of it to satisfy our own selfish needs." Vijayendra Gupta patted the little girl's back, his voice soothing with his eyes fixed on the wondrous pair of hazel eyes with green flecks.

Her brows crunched in thoughtfulness as she stared at her grandfather, her innocence and curiosity aglow on her face. "So, why did Lord Ram ask his brother to desert Devi Sita in a forest?"

He chuckled at the seemingly harmless question posed by his seven-year-old granddaughter. How could he make her understand the ways and functioning of dharmic obligation? Smiling as he pulled the duvet over her while she rubbed her nose against his chest, her hands holding his vest in a fist, he stared at the stars. "There comes a time when a person has to choose between what he wants and what he needs to do. Lord Ram is a king and a husband, Khushi. He is bound to protect the kingdom and set an exemplary personality for its citizens. Among the two choices he was given, both of which were equally complicated and undeniably impossible, Lord Ram chose to exile Devi Sita when the accusations ended up as an ethical crisis. As a king, he is to show the citizens that the path to spiritual advancement is above materialistic attachments."

Khushi crunched up her nose as she straightened herself, straddling on the elder man's stomach as she narrowed her eyes. "What is spiritual advancement, grandpa?"

Her grandfather watched her with an amused chuckle. "It's an awakening of our inner self. It is about accepting our responsibilities as humans, growing up stronger, confident and acquiring a balanced life. It is about taking care of justice, equality and tranquility."

Khushi nodded with a tentative smile. She stared at him in a deep frown. "But he loves his wife, right?" She pointed out with a stubborn pout. "How can Lord Ram leave her? That is not fair!"

"Sometimes, people in love are forced to stay apart." Vijayendra said in a low whisper as he tugged her beside him. "You're too young to understand Ramayana and love, Khushi. You'll, once you're old enough."