Lakshman's Daughter

The Deer

The golden sun rays fell on Urmila's face, despite the heavy mist. The grass beneath her feet tickled the soles of her feet. The smell of fertile soil mixed with the fragrances of the exotic flowers that bloomed in Mithila pierced her nose as softly and tenderly as possible. Urmila sighed with relief as she opened her arms to embrace the beautiful scenery that surrounded her.

A cool breeze blew past her and she unpins the veil pinned onto her hairdo and the expensive silk sings its way down to the ground. And with another flick she removes the diamond studded lace that held her hairdo and throws it far from reach. Her hair rippled down all the way till her lower back, swaying merrily to the soft breezes that blew past. She loved the freedom she was given in Mithila away from the strict and conventional guidelines she was told to follow when she lived in Ayodya.

Urmila walks towards the big Mango tree, that tree which held memories of her childhood. Every day, as children, they would come to this place with their dolls and play there for endless hours. It was she and Mandavi, daring and ready for adventure, who would climb up the twisted branches to pluck ripe and luscious mangoes, Kirthi would stay down and keep guard in case anyone saw the two little girls on the tree. Meanwhile little Sita would yell instructions from down below on which mango to pluck, and which to avoid, which was infected by parasites and which has lots of nectar inside.

Urmila smiled at the memory, which seemed very distant, but enough to bring a smile on her face. She took a seat on the wooden bench underneath the shade of the tree, keeping a secured hand over her baby bump. It has been five months since she conceived, and five long months since she left Ayodya and came to Mithila. She carefully took a seat under the shade of the Mango tree, and closes her eyes as she memorizes the mantis's prayer, which was soon disturbed by, her close friend and closet attendant, Priyamwada's shrieking call for Urmila.

Priyamwada, who was wearing a think grey cloak over her shoulders, smiled as she came running huffing and puffing towards Urmila, carrying a silver canister in her hands "Princess!" she exclaimed, sweating profusely, as she stopped infront of Urmila, trying to breath normally.

"What happened?" Urmila asked opening her eyes.

"A messengers comes from Ayodya with goodies for yous. Priyamwada said as she handed over the canister to Urmila.

"Is the messenger still here?" Urmila asks as she takes it into her hands, and gestures Priyamwada to sit beside her. Urmila was surprised as to how the messenger safely reached Mithila when the weather was worsening each day. This year the mist had appeared early, a week before the Autumn Season made way for the Cold Season. The mist had started to grow thicker each day, like a blinding blindfold that hides what lies ahead. Transferring of letters was periodically brought to a halt as the royal birds flew astray while a few flew away to unknown lands and became subsequent meals of predatory birds. Messengers were rarely sent to other kingdoms.

"Yes!" Priyamwada nodded. "Da Kings has told da maids to sends him back after a yummy meals. Poor fellows, he cames all theese way despite this bloody climates to deliver so many gifts your familys sends you! Maharaja Ram has requested Da King to let the messenger to stay in Mithila until this climate becomes gooder again. Forgets about that! He's eating a hearty meals in the dining rooms! The messenger bloke says thees has sweets from Princess Mandavi!"

"What do you reckon is inside, Priyamwada?" Urmila asked, and excited fingers open the canister. Before the mist had appeared, Mandavi and Kirthi would take turns and prepare her favorite sweetmeats and send them over to Mithila once in every fort night. Along with that, her mother in law, Queen Sumitra would send a jar of homemade mango pickle every week. Lakshman wrote long letters and ballads to her every day.