Two Bodies, One Soul: The Shakti Spear

The Soul Departs

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a somber, fiery glow across the grand city of Ayodhya. But the majestic palace, usually brimming with peace and light, was shrouded in an unsettling stillness.

The very air seemed to hold its breath, caught between the chains of fate and the sorrow of a brother's unbreakable love.

Lakshman stood outside the grand chamber, his silhouette a steadfast sentinel against the creeping dusk. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, eyes sharp and senses heightened as he carried out the simple, yet grave task his brother had entrusted to him. *Guard the door, no matter what,* Ram had commanded softly. His words, though spoken gently, had an edge to them, one that only Lakshman's heart could perceive.

And so, he stood-unmoving, unyielding-as he always had for his brother. But today, an unseen weight pressed on his chest. The presence of Yama, the god of death, still lingered in the shadows, a chilling reminder of the impossible vow made mere hours before. If anyone, anyone at all, dared to interrupt Ram's conversation with Yama, that person would face death's icy grip.

Lakshman had smiled grimly then. What was death to him, if it meant Ram's honor remained untarnished? He had faced death countless times before, standing shoulder to shoulder with his brother in battle. But this... This was different. It was not death that made his chest tighten; it was the thought of leaving Ram to bear the burden of sorrow alone.

And then, the silence shattered.

"Lakshman!" A voice, deep and resonant, broke through the stillness. The figure of Durvasa, the venerable sage and family guru, appeared at the chamber entrance. His aura was commanding, his eyes bright with urgency. "I must see Ram. I have news of great importance."

Lakshman's pulse raced. *No,* he thought. *Not now.* But he straightened, his expression calm and respectful. "Forgive me, great sage," he said softly, yet with a firmness that belied his inner turmoil. "But my lord is in a sacred meeting. I cannot-no matter the reason-allow anyone to enter."

"Do you defy me, Lakshman?" Durvasa's eyes narrowed, his voice low and dangerous. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension. "You would keep me, his own guru, from his presence?"

The world seemed to tilt, the weight of the moment crushing down on Lakshman. He felt as if a thousand eyes were upon him, waiting to see which path he would take-duty to his brother's command, or obedience to the revered sage. His heart thundered, torn between unshakable loyalty and unbreakable rules.

But then, with a quiet, sorrowful resolve, Lakshman stepped aside. His eyes shone with a fierce, desperate light as he looked at Durvasa. "I cannot defy you, revered sage," he murmured, bowing his head in surrender. "But know this: I accept whatever fate awaits me for breaking my vow."

As Durvasa swept past him into the chamber, Lakshman's shoulders slumped, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. He stood alone in the corridor, staring blankly ahead, his mind numb. He knew what would follow. He had condemned himself-sealed his own end-because that was what it meant to serve his brother without hesitation, without question.

When the door finally creaked open and Ram emerged, Lakshman's heart clenched painfully. There was no fury in his brother's gaze, no harsh rebuke. Instead, Ram's eyes were wide with disbelief, shimmering with unshed tears. His gaze met Lakshman's, and in that instant, Lakshman saw it-the anguish, the love, the unbearable weight of what had to be done."

Lakshman..." Ram whispered, his voice breaking. He took a step forward, his hand reaching out as if to grasp Lakshman, to keep him from slipping away. "Why did you-" He stopped, choked by emotion. "You knew what this meant. You knew what I would have to do."

Lakshman managed a faint, bittersweet smile. "I did, Bhaiyya. I knew. But I would rather bear the punishment myself than see your honor stained. My life is but a small price."

"No." Ram's voice was a desperate growl. He clutched Lakshman's shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric of Lakshman's armor. "No, I cannot accept this. There must be another way. You are my brother, my strength. How can I-how can I do this to you?"

But Lakshman gently pried Ram's hands from his shoulders. "Bhaiyya, you must." His eyes softened, a deep affection and sorrow mingling within their depths. "You are Ram, the upholder of *dharma*. If you waver, the heavens will tremble. It is your duty to keep your word, and it is mine to ensure you do. This is my final act as your brother."

Ram's breath hitched, his heart splintering. He could feel it-the gods watching, fate's noose tightening. If he faltered now, the entire realm of righteousness would crumble. But how could he watch his beloved Lakshman walk away, knowing it would be the last time?

"I cannot lose you," Ram whispered, his voice raw. "Not you, Lakshman. Not after everything."

Lakshman's smile was serene, though his own eyes glistened. "You will never lose me, Bhaiyya. I am bound to you-now and forever. Even in death, I shall be by your side, watching, guarding. But today, let me leave with my head held high. Let me be your strength one last time."

The wind whispered around them, carrying the soft murmur of Lakshman's farewell. With a deep breath, he stepped back, his gaze lingering on Ram's face for a heartbeat longer. Then, with a respectful bow, he turned and began his final walk.

Ram's vision blurred, his heart screaming, but his voice refused to obey. He watched helplessly as Lakshman's form receded into the twilight, each step taking him farther away until only a shadow remained.

As Lakshman reached the banks of the Sarayu River, he paused, casting one last glance over his shoulder. He knew Ram could see him. He knew his brother's heart was breaking, just as his own was. But this was his path, his sacrifice.

"Goodbye, Bhaiyya," he whispered softly, his voice carried on the wind. And then, with a gentle smile, Lakshman closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the river's embrace. The water shimmered, glowing softly as his spirit ascended, leaving behind the bonds of the mortal world.

Ram, still standing on the balcony, felt his knees buckle. A strangled cry tore from his throat as the sky darkened, the stars dimming in mourning. His world, once bright with Lakshman's presence, now felt hollow, an endless void that nothing could fill.

Alone, bound by his duty as a king, Ram lifted his gaze to the heavens. "You were always more than my brother, Lakshman," he whispered brokenly. "You were my heart."

But the heavens gave no reply. Only the silence of the night remained, echoing Ram's grief across the darkened land.

*****

Happy Vijya Dashmi!!!

:)