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Authors: Kavita Kane

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‘Do they seriously take us to be such tame girls who will scurry to obey?’ scoffed Urmila in grim agreement. ‘Haven’t they realized yet that we are the daughters of Janak and Sunaina, who have been taught to uphold their pride and be courageous? They are so used to being obeyed without any questions that this palace seems to revel in some sort of a benign autocracy. The king said marry the four princesses, and the sons obediently did, without a murmur of protest,’ she said. ‘Now the king decrees Ram to marry again! This is tyranny!’

The arrival of Ram followed by Lakshman made her stop. Ram gathered the scene and seemed unperturbed, looking straight at his wife. His smile of reassurance dispelled all misgivings. Urmila made a move to leave, intending to give the couple their privacy, but Ram stopped her.

‘Wait, listen to what I have to say. I know you must have been worried about your sister—about all of us,’ he said calmly. ‘My father asked me if I wanted to remarry. I unconditionally said no; that the question does not arise. I love Sita and I can never leave her, not for another woman, not for anything. Do you believe I would have abandoned her or I shall in the future?’

Urmila was not prepared for this blunt, hard question. ‘As a man who loves his wife, you would not,’ she said equably. ‘But perhaps your other roles—as the eldest son, as the prince of Kosala, or as the heir apparent to the throne—they would have made you think otherwise and made you do so.’

Her reply had been equally straightforward, but Ram took it with a gentle nod of his head. ‘As Sita’s husband and the three roles notwithstanding—of which one is questionable—I would not abandon Sita. I would never remarry,’ he replied stoutly. ‘Never can I do that, especially when we have been brought up by our mother Kaikeyi to believe that having more than one wife is akin to a sin. It is a crime—unfair and unjustifiable—on your spouse, your loved one. It was she who taught us how to respect a woman. We were warned against even thinking of bringing more than one wife into this palace. My father did it in the past and all the three wives have suffered because of that decision. Who would know it better than our three mothers? We, their sons, have seen their silent pain. They endured more out of royal dignity than charitable tolerance. But it was Mother Kaikeyi who taught us how to love, respect and be loyal, especially to our life partner.’

Urmila was surprised at his words but still look unconvinced. ‘Then why did the issue of remarriage come up? What has Sita done to suffer this ignominy?’ she insisted. ‘Why the snide remarks, the discourtesy that she was welcomed with?’

‘Because very simply, Mother Kaikeyi was worried that my mangaldosh and the delay of our mahurat might work adversely for me. That it would eventually kill me,’ said Ram quietly. ‘She was worried and this miscommunication happened because things happened too fast. It was an anxious, worried mother you saw reacting, Urmila. Please don’t harbour any ill feelings towards her. She overreacted and vented her ire on Sita, whom she naturally assumed to be the cause of the problem. I am here to apologize not just to Sita but to you and your sisters too, as inadvertently I have been responsible for the hurt and unhappiness.’

‘No, dear son, you need not apologize on my behalf,’ a voice sharply interrupted them. Kaikeyi was standing at the doorway, beautiful and regal, her face softened with guilt and regret, much to Urmila’s disbelief. ‘It is I who misconstrued a lot of things because of my ego and temper; and as a mother, a queen and elder of the family, it is inexcusable. Ram has a more kind explanation for my irresponsible, insensitive behaviour, but I realize I have done indefensible damage,’ she turned to Sita. ‘I have hurt you with my thoughtless behaviour and no words of regret and apology can mend the wound. But if you can, dear daughter, please forgive this old lady her transgressions.’

Saying so, she folded her hands in silent appeal. Sita looked distinctly uncomfortable; so did Urmila. The moment was awkward and getting disconcertingly stretched.

Sita’s next words thawed the discomfiting silence. ‘As a mother you wanted to see him safe, happy and unharmed and thus wished to get him remarried. There is no question of you asking us for forgiveness,’ said Sita. ‘No mother wishes any harm to befall her child and whatever you did was to protect Ram. Please do not be further upset about this.’

Urmila could only look on with shock and wonder and a grudging respect for the queen. If Kaikeyi had been prejudiced about Sita, Urmila could be accused of the same. Watching her humbly apologizing to the younger woman, Urmila felt a twinge of penitence on having nursed biased thoughts about her and Ram. It was her turn to beg for pardon.

But Ram’s next words stopped her again. ‘No, don’t think of it, Urmila. You had a right to question my motives and that of my mother. You were defending your sister. And I know very well the extent you would go to protect her. Can I ever forget how you had whipped out Lakshman’s dagger to kill him? You didn’t spare him either! So who am I?’ he asked in mock horror, genuine enjoyment twinkling in his eyes as he recalled the incident at the palace garden of Mithila.

Sita and the queen look puzzled but noticing Urmila’s heightened colour and Lakshman’s widening grin, all the queen said was, ‘Oh she is a bloodthirsty knife-brandishing warrior too, is she?’ she chuckled. ‘I won’t be too inquisitive of what happened but, aha, this girl can make my Soumitra smile! And what could be better than that—a spouse who can bring out the best in you?’

The tension had eased considerably making way for a fairly jaunty mood. All seemed almost normal: they were all smiling again. Kaikeyi gave her a long look and with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes, said gently, ‘Urmila you remind me of myself of so many years ago. We are, though you may not agree, quite alike. Welcome home once again, princess!’

Was that a compliment or a passing regret, Urmila wondered in rising bewilderment, the answer to which question she would get fourteen years later.

------------------------------

THE SISTERS

‘Why does everyone prefer Ram to Bharat?’ asked Mandavi squarely, leaving her sisters surprised but unprepared to either reply or ponder over the blunt, insensitive question. They were no longer four sisters discussing the four princes of Kosala, but four sisters-in-law debating about the brothers-in-law. But Mandavi had always been tactless.

They were sitting in Urmila’s paved patio. She had made it a shady, sylvan glade, very much like the one back home. It had been her puny attempt to recreate the sprawling, wooded garden of the Mithila palace she was chronically missing. Magnanimously open to the sky, ensconced between the bedchamber and the morning room, it fostered an intimacy and soon became the favoured venue for the sisters to meet. They would get together to catch up and chat, albeit for the briefest interval—a pact the girls promised not to break.

Urmila, characteristically, countered her cousin’s query with her own. ‘Now where does that come from?’ she asked cautiously. ‘How does it matter to us? Or has someone been talking too much?’

Mandavi could detect the tartness in her voice. ‘No, it’s just my observation of the last so many days since we arrived here,’ she shrugged, trying to sound casual. ‘Universally adored.’

‘Deservedly or undeservedly, is that what you are trying to imply?’ asked Kirti shrewdly.

‘Certainly deservedly—he is always so gentle, warm, kind and friendly and of course, so dutiful,’ emphasized Mandavi, and Urmila, like Kirti, wondered if her sister was being malicious. Sita was oblivious, smiling, pleased at hearing praises being heaped upon her husband. ‘He seems to be everyone’s favourite—right from his father to all the three mothers, his sister, the nobles at court, the servants, the public…hmm, just about everyone!’

‘But for Manthara. She detests him—like poison,’ said Urmila astutely. Noticing Mandavi tightening her jaw, Urmila’s suspicions were confirmed.

Sita laughed. ‘No! Oh, it was such a long time ago! It seems as a naughty kid, Ram had hit her with an arrow on her hump. She spanked him for it, of course!’

‘And never forgot it ever since!’ retorted Urmila. ‘And interestingly, an act for which Ram and the brothers were packed off to some school for disciplining them.’

‘But she is such a sweet lady, Urmi, she taught me one of the choicest dishes Ram relishes!’ said Sita. ‘And she was delighted that I love to cook; she has handed me her favourite recipes which I plan to master this month. She is a culinary wizard! Why do you say she hates Ram, when she sees to it that his favourite dishes are prepared every day!’

‘And you are impressed?’ asked Kirti, amused. ‘Sita, you are either too good or too naïve. You can’t see the evil in anyone, and that’s not good, especially for you! Urmi is right. I think Manthara resents Ram.’

‘Why do you keep saying that?’ Mandavi demanded. ‘She seems a sweet, old lady who exasperatingly chatters a lot, but she seems a good sort.’

‘She doesn’t chatter, Mandavi, she gossips. She is a vicious rumourmonger,’ countered Urmila with a frown. ‘She is trouble, and a troublemaker.’

‘You and your fantastic imagination,’ scoffed Mandavi, ‘that’s an extravagant exaggeration.’

‘What has she been telling you?’ Urmila asked suspiciously.

‘Just this and that; idle maid talk,’ answered Mandavi airily, ‘but why this friendly interrogation?’ she sounded more belligerent.

Urmila, though slightly surprised at her truculence, did not allow it to affect her. ‘Just that I see her with you more often than she is with Mother Kaikeyi,’ she replied evenly. ‘So what does she say, our sweet old lady? Come on, it’s been so long since we gossiped, didn’t we?’

Mandavi looked mollified. ‘Oh, typical childhood stories about the four brothers. Bharat in particular, of course,’ said Mandavi with a fond smile. ‘Lots of anecdotes, snippets from here and there—she’s old, she tends to digress and ramble. Like, how Ram used to bully his brothers who so openly adored him.’

‘Oh, did he?’ exclaimed Sita, in amused surprise. ‘I thought it would have been Lakshman. No offence, Urmi, but he’s so aggressive and curt! I know that it is mostly a facade—to hide his innate reserve. But everyone quakes at his sight and no one dares to talk back to him! Everyone at the palace is scared stiff of him, including Kaikeyi. Even she thinks twice when he’s around!’

Urmila smiled indulgently. Two months down, she knew her husband well enough and was secretly amused at how most considered him to be this dreaded horror. He could be taciturn to the brink of being menacing; words rarely spoken but like a whiplash if they were uttered as a retort or reprimand. He was a lot like her but Urmila knew how to cushion her words with delicacy and discreetness when needed. Lakshman would make a poor diplomat, but the most loyal of allies.

The couples seemed oddly similar in nature and notion. They were all comfortably alike. Just as Sita was perfect for Ram, Mandavi was for Bharat: both were always calm, cool, collected to the point of being slightly dispassionate and detached. Kirti’s quiet sagacity was a foil to Shatrughna’s boisterous frivolity, his comic-serious sense of humour to her solemnity. But both, though being the youngest, had a distinct mental discernment and accumulated wisdom that was way beyond their age.

Shatrughna was quite unlike his twin in many ways but what was common between them was the fierce loyalty each had for his older brother: Lakshman for Ram and Shatrughna for Bharat. Urmila found it strange that they were not as close as was supposed and expected from twins; they seemed more attached to the respective older brothers. And though, Urmila had deduced, matters were not too amicable between the two senior queens, it did not affect the brothers. Their bonding was deep, open and strong. They were indisputably close, and vehement about it.

Mandavi responded to Sita’s observation about Lakshman with a distinct thread of spite. ‘No, but Lakshman’s hardly a leader!’ she said dismissively. ‘He just follows Ram and obeys whatever the big brother says. He’s his shadow. Just like Shatrughna is of Bharat. It’s amazing that both of them prefer to tag along with Ram and Bharat respectively! They have no individuality. That’s what I mean—Ram and Bharat are born leaders!’

Urmila again felt a flash of irritation and pursed her lips in quiet displeasure.

‘It would be more correct and polite to call them inseparable companions,’ snapped Kirti, her face flushed. ‘They are not servile as you are implying; they are simply very close!’

‘Why do you keep harping about Ram and Bharat?’ asked Sita sharply. ‘What are you saying, Mandavi?’

‘She’s saying what Manthara has been telling her,’ Urmila said pleasantly, silently fuming.

‘That is why she started off with that peculiar question of Ram being preferred over Bharat,’ cried Kirti. ‘It is Manthara who has been spooning this daily dose of poison to her as a fortifying syrup, but the talk is not as sweet as it appears!’

‘I am intelligent enough and have a mind of my own! Or does the truth hurt you to the quick?’ bristled Mandavi.

Urmila was shocked at her sister’s virulence. The air was thick with an inexplicable animosity. This was no casual chatter: they were seriously squabbling, Urmila realized with growing dismay.

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