SITA: The Peace Within

||Arrival:The Second Exile||

Laxman held the chariot with all his might, as he whipped the horse. Pardon, he whispered. Early in the morning, his King had ordered him to take away the Queen, and Bhaiya Ram was crying. Being the same person with these two personalities, his brother gave him major nightmares. Anything for Ayodhya! he sniffled. He was sure that those people were equal to Sita Bhabhi's feet's dust- nothing more. He would have personally slaughtered the head of the man who had started such allegations and rumors in the first place. 



'Take her away.' Ram instructed Laxman trying to stand straight.
'Easy for you, but not for me- your Majesty.' Laxman bowed down to the King his tone taunting everything. He could feel the Queen peaking from the shadows of the curtain. Ram's gait crumpled as his voice became meek. ' Then its a request Laxman.' He tried smiling at his younger brother but failed miserably at his hysterical expressions. ' What is all this for? For some lame rumors Brother?' Laxman revolted. He won't do this. 'Rajdharma dictates us to follow such strict routines Laxman. If you think I am happily abiding by all this - then you are wrong. I need to do this. There is no choice. I would have left with Sita, but I can't break my promise to be the King.' Ram explained. Laxman fought to stand, his brother looked extremely vulnerable. What has this kingdom bought to him? This weakness and unsteadiness. This dullness for life? 
'Bhaiya, I don't understand all this. What about your seven promises to Bhabhi? Those vows taken with the holy fire on your wedding.' Laxman reasoned.

'Laxman!' a voice so full of determination echoed in the chamber. 'Is this the way to talk with your Brother- or must I say the King.' The last four words heavied down her throat. King, Queen, King, Queen....King...King and only the King. 'I apologize for my harsh words Bhabhi. But you can't force me to obey such senseless orders.' Laxman folded his hands in apology. 'Senseless. What is your definition of senseless Laxman?' Sita asked softly. Laxman's head rotated in negative. 'Decisions taken in unconsciousness are senseless Laxman. But here I and Raghunandan stand in all our five senses. I don't see any basis of your allegation.' Sita answered.

 She made Laxman sit. Ram saw the play in front of his eyes- as if he was imagining all this. That there was no Sita and Laxman talking about a second exile, rather a fantasy of his mind. Sita talked like taking a breath as if complimenting the old martin's song. He saw Laxman in a deep resignation slowly falling in the pit of acceptance. 'Take me to Valmiki's hermitage. He had expressed a desire to see me since the time we came back. There would be no problem if I reside there I hope.' Sita's last words were an epitome of confusion and fear but she masked them well. Laxman could not sit, stand, or talk anymore. He just begged to leave the place which felt unearthly for a mortal being to stay.

Ram sat aside, looking at a potted plant and its bud. If he cuts it and tries to put it in the garden it may not flower. It may not die as well- an Irony, he thought.

It was almost the crack of the evening when the chariot stopped across Valmiki's hermitage. The decision was so hurried that there was no time to send a message to him- and lo! they stood deserted on the entrance. Sita got down holding her belly bump- her children intact. She wore a saffron Sari and a few flower ornaments. 'Let me be.' Sita advised Laxman to leave. 'No. I need to settle you.' Laxman dare not see in his sister-in-law's eyes. She may catch him breaking down and it would be a shame indeed. He went inside to make amendments. Sita sat alone in the deserted night. The scented chambers, the thick oil lamps, and the cushiony beds of the palace did a ghostly dance in front of her- but she did not miss any of them- she had already left them far behind. 




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Urmila came with some tea leaves in the Royal kitchen as she silently boiled them. The servants sweated in agony as they constantly tried taking her job. 'Leave Head Cook.' She advised soberly but still strict in her opinion. She sprinkled some tea leaves in boiling water and saw them burn to die a bit more- as they sprawled and gave scent and color to water. She discarded them delicately but instead of throwing them away she neatly pressed them in a cloth. 'What are you doing?' Mandavi entered, her eyes swollen red. 'Is Jijashree Bharat still busy?' Urmilla dodged the question in the air. ' He doesn't deserve my presence today.' Mandavi spewed hatred. Tears rolled down Mandavi's cheeks. 'I am pregnant.' Mandavi sobbed bitterly. Urmilla looked up at her sister. What irony? Do they deserve any happiness? What fate has befallen on the sisters of Mithila? First, the eldest gets exiled, kidnapped and exiled once again- for no fault of her. The second one cries to know that she is begetting children. Urmila didn't know what to do? Smile or cry. So she discarded either way. She embraced her elder sister. 'Stay strong.' she whispered. Mandavi nodded. She had thought that she would enjoy this pregnancy with her family knit closely together. That finally they were normal. 
'Tell your Husband, Didi. He deserves to know this. I don't see any good in punishing him. I won't punish Swami Laxman either-even if he was the one to take away Sita didi.' Urmila maintained a straight face as she delivered the instructions.


'Mata Sumitra, your tea is ready.' Urmilla announced in a joyless manner. She looked at her mother-in-law's curled figure. She was busy making a garland for Mahadev's idol. futile attempts! Urmilla thought. It doesn't help to change your destiny. 'Pardon us, Urmilla!' Sumitra told her coldly- but then Urmila deciphered it to be pain. Urmila tried speaking some words- which would have meant better- sweet and sugar, but she couldn't. She wanted everybody to know how it felt when your heart burnt and happiness didn't know your address. 'Excuse me, Mata.' She went out of the chamber victoriously. The cloth - preserving the wet tea leaves close to her heart. Don't worry- I won't discard you. She smiled to herself.

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