The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

The Universe, at Dawn

Actually, they'd planned a party. Halfway through setting up, months of sleep-deprivation finally caught up to the otherwise invincible vanar sena. Nal and Neel were laying sprawled over a haul of coconuts, blissful in a world of coconut-filled dreams.

Angad had been in charge of organizing music, but opted on using the acoustic drums as a bed instead. Sugriv rested on a mound of sand, managing to make it look like a throne even as he snored. The moon watched the brave warriors of Shri Ram fondly, slipping behind the clouds to provide some respite from its silver light.

Something in Vibhishan's many creases had softened. The kettle of green tea was empty, and his crown tipped over as he napped. Lakshman lifted his legs onto the cot gently.

"Look at that," he murmured, stepping back to observe his surroundings. "Peace at last." The medical tent was perfectly empty. Monkeys curled around each other, no longer tortured in their sleep. It was over. "So some things turn out well after all."

He turned to leave the tents, but caught two purple silhouettes against the black sky.

Ram was grasping Sita's hand in his own. "Come, Sitei," he whispered. He had, for so long, wailed her name to the unpitying nights and the distant gods. Now he could take it as a jewel again, no longer tainted by marks of sadness. "Let's go to the tents and rest for some time."

Sita neared, the curves of her soft face dipping tenderly. "Do you not want to sit on the beach? You love the sea, Raghunath."

Ram's shoulders relaxed. "I do. That I do. But-" He lost his breath, and then found it again in Sita's eyes, in her accepting gaze. "I've got you back after so long, is all. It feels like if we stay outside, then you might be taken away from me again. I wouldn't be able to bear the agony, Sitei. I would simply perish-"

Sita surged forward, wrapping her arms around his chest and squeezing. It was the sun hugging the moon again, the rain soaking into a parched earth. Sita had returned into Ram's arms, and the rage of the gods had dissipated into love again. "Your only mistake, Ram," she laughed, muffled by his angavastra. "Is thinking that I would allow myself to be taken from you ever again."

Ram slumped into her, his own arms lifting to hold her again. "Well, then I shall never make it again."

Their outlines were burned into the universe. They were all that ever was.

Lakshman watched them for a second longer, and then shut his eyes. There was someone in the darkness whom he could embrace too. A flowery perfume, cascades of black hair. "Urmila," he breathed, allowing himself the indulgence of her name again.

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

Urmila's eyes flew open and she sat up. She hadn't been dreaming, but the presence of a man flitted through her mind still. His smile was brilliant, and at once, she knew.

The Princess of Ayodhya threw her doors open and sprinted down the hallways. The bells on her feet and the bangles on her wrists echoed off the high ceilings and through even the heaviest doors. "Wake up, oh brothers and sisters! Wake up, my mothers!" she called exuberantly, thrumming her hands on each wall she could find. "Now isn't the time to be sleeping!"

The lanterns burned brightly, hearing her before any person could. The curtains of the night sky rippled, delighted. For a moment, the sun pressed through the darkness and allowed a burst of light to rest upon the savior's homeland.

"What is it, Urmila?" Mandavi croaked, stepping out from her rooms. "Why have you woken us? I was just about to get some good rest too." Bharat followed, eyes sunken permanently into dark circles. From the south side, Shatrughan and Shrutakirti emerged, blinking sleep away from their sagging faces.