Lakshman's Daughter

The Visitor

In the soft, golden-hued chamber, where the gentle rays of the sun filtered through silk curtains, Lakshman cradled the newborn prince, Angad's son. His face was a portrait of tranquility, the lines etched by years of experience and wisdom. He marveled at the child in his arms, a tiny replica of his son, Angad, in every way, except for the delicate nose, a precious inheritance from Rupa.

As Lakshman lovingly gazed at the baby, the door to the chamber opened with a regal flourish. In walked Ram, his majestic presence commanding the room. He was followed by a procession of maids, each carrying a glistening gold plate laden with the most exquisite treasures – silks that shimmered like moonlight on water, fruits that seemed plucked from the heavens, nuts as rare and precious as their love, pearls that radiated the luster of the full moon, and jewels that sparkled like stars in the night sky.

Ram's eyes were warm pools of affection as he approached Rupa. With a graceful smile, he extended his hands, offering the plates of opulence. "Princess Rupa," he began, his voice filled with admiration, "you have bestowed upon us the greatest gift—the first of my beloved grandchildren. As a token of my appreciation and love, I present to you these treasures, befitting a queen."

Rupa's heart swelled with gratitude as she accepted the offerings. Overwhelmed, she turned to Ram, her eyes shimmering with emotion.

With great reverence, she touched his feet, a gesture of deep respect and affection. "Thank you, Maharaj," she whispered, her voice quivering with emotion. "Your kindness and generosity humble me."

Ram gently lifted her chin, his touch as tender as a summer breeze. "You are no longer just Rupa," he said, his voice filled with pride. "You are now Princess Rupa, a cherished member of our royal family. May your days be filled with joy and your heart with contentment."

Tears of happiness glistened in Rupa's eyes as she nodded, feeling blessed beyond measure. She was not just a mother now, but a princess, and her child, a prince of the realm. In that moment, as she stood surrounded by treasures and love, she knew that her life had been forever transformed, and she embraced the future with open arms.

As Ram held Angad's newborn, a bittersweet pang of guilt washed over him. It was a moment of undeniable joy, yet it also stirred deep regret within him. He couldn't help but remember that he had never experienced this precious moment with his own sons, Lava and Kusha. They were born during his exile, and he was separated from them for many years.

A veil of sadness momentarily clouded Ram's otherwise composed expression. He forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, and gently handed the baby to Lakshman. "I have to attend to a meeting with a sage," he announced, his voice betraying a hint of melancholy.

Walking away, Ram tried to conceal the emotions that had surged within him. It was a stark reminder of the sacrifices he had made for his kingdom, a reminder that even kings had their regrets and moments of vulnerability. But duty called, and he couldn't linger in the past.

Ram retreated to the solitude of his chambers, locking the door behind him. Inside, the weight of his past decisions bore down on him like a heavy crown. He was tormented by the guilt that he couldn't be present for the birth of his sons, Lava and Kusha, because of the heartbreaking choice he had made to banish Sita during her pregnancy.

In the dimly lit room, memories flooded his mind. He could still hear the echo of his own voice, issuing the decree to Lakshman, instructing him to abandon a pregnant Sita in the forest. The cries of Urmila and Mandhavi, who had protested vehemently against his actions, still rang in his ears. His own mothers had condemned him for banishing Sita when she was carrying his unborn child. The weight of their collective anger and sorrow haunted him.