Scion of Ikshvaku (16 page)

‘It doesn’t matter what I think, Father.’

‘You didn’t answer my question.’

Ram remained silent.

Dashrath leaned forward. ‘Answer me, prince.’

‘I don’t understand how the universe keeps track of our karma across many births, Father. I know I could not have done anything in this birth to make you lose the battle. Maybe it was something to do with my previous birth?’

Dashrath laughed softly, amazed at his son’s equanimity.

‘Do you know whom I blame?’ asked Dashrath. ‘If I were truly honest, if I had had the courage to look deep into my heart, the answer would have been obvious. It was my fault; only my fault. I was reckless and foolhardy. I attacked without a plan, driven only by anger. I paid the price, didn’t I? My first defeat ever… And, my last battle, forever.’

‘Father, there are many—’

‘Do not interrupt me, Ram. I’m not finished.’ Ram fell silent and Dashrath continued. ‘It was my fault. And I blamed the infant that you were. It was so easy. I just had to say it, and everyone agreed with me. I made your life hell from the day you were born. You should hate me. You should hate Ayodhya.’

‘I don’t hate anyone, Father.’

Dashrath stared hard at his son. After what seemed like eternity, his face broke into a peculiar smile. ‘I don’t know whether you’ve suppressed your true feelings completely or you genuinely don’t care about the ignominy that people have heaped on you. Whatever be the truth, you have held strong. The entire universe conspired to break you, and here you are, still unbowed. What metal have you been forged in, my son?’

Ram’s eyes moistened as emotion welled within him. He could handle disdain and apathy from his father; he was used to it. Respect was difficult to deal with. ‘I was forged from your metal, my father.’

Dashrath laughed softly. He was discovering his son.

‘What are your differences with Mrigasya?’ asked Dashrath.

Ram was surprised to discover that his father kept track of court matters. ‘None at all, Father.’

‘Then why did you penalise one of his men?’

‘He broke the law.’

‘Don’t you know how powerful Mrigasya is? Aren’t you afraid of him?’

‘Nobody is above the law, Father. None can be more powerful than
dharma
.’

Dashrath laughed. ‘Not even me?’

‘A great emperor said something beautiful once:
Dharma
is above all, even the king.
Dharma
is above the Gods themselves.’

Dashrath frowned. ‘Who said this?’

‘You did, Father, when you took your oath at your coronation, decades ago. I was told that you had paraphrased our great ancestor Lord Ikshvaku himself.’

Dashrath stared at Ram as he jogged his memory to remember the powerful man he had once been.

‘Go to sleep, my son,’ said Dashrath. ‘You need the rest.’

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Chapter 12
FlyLeaf.ORG

Ram was awakened by the doctor at the beginning of the second
prahar
for his next dose of medicine. As he looked around the room, his eyes fell on a visibly delighted Lakshman, standing by his bedside bedecked in a formal
dhoti
and
angvastram.
The saffron
angvastram
had a Suryavanshi sun emblazoned across its length.

‘Son?’

Ram turned his head to the left and saw his father attired in regal finery. The emperor sat on his travel-throne; the Suryavanshi crown was placed on his head.

‘Father,’ said Ram. ‘Good morning.’

Dashrath nodded crisply. ‘It will be a fine morning, no doubt.’

The emperor turned towards the entrance of his tent. ‘Is anyone there?’

A guard pulled the curtain aside and rushed in, saluting rapidly.

‘Let the nobles in.’

The guard saluted once again and retraced his steps. Within minutes, the nobles entered the tent in single file. They gathered in a semicircle around the emperor, waiting with a solemn air of ceremony.

‘Let me see my son,’ said Dashrath.

The nobles parted immediately, surprised at the voice of authority emerging from their emperor.

Dashrath looked directly at Ram. ‘Rise.’

Lakshman rushed over to help Ram, but Dashrath raised his hand firmly to stop him from doing so. The assemblage stood rooted as it watched a severely weakened Ram struggle to raise himself, stand on his feet and hobble towards his father. He saluted slowly once he reached the emperor.

Dashrath locked eyes with his son, inhaled deeply and spoke clearly, ‘Kneel.’

Ram was unable to move, overwhelmed by a sense of shocked disbelief. Tears welled up in his eyes, despite his willing them not to do so.

Dashrath’s voice softened slightly. ‘Kneel, my son.’

Ram struggled with emotions as he sought the support of a table close at hand. Laboriously, he went down on one knee, bowed his head and awaited the call of destiny.

Dashrath spoke evenly, his voice reverberating even outside the royal tent. ‘Rise, Ram Chandra,
protector
of the Raghu clan.’

A collective gasp resounded through the tent.

Dashrath raised his head and the courtiers fell into a taut silence.

Ram still had his head bowed, lest his enemies see the tears in his eyes. He stared at the floor till he regained absolute control. Then he looked up at his father and spoke in a calm voice. ‘May all the Gods of our great land continue to protect you, my father.’

Dashrath’s eyes seemed to penetrate the soul of his eldest son. A hint of a smile appeared on his face as he looked towards his nobles. ‘Leave us.’

General Mrigasya attempted to say something. ‘Your Majesty, but—’

Dashrath interrupted him with a glare. ‘What part of “leave us” did you not understand, Mrigasya?’

‘My apologies, Your Majesty,’ said Mrigasya, as he saluted and led the nobles out.

Dashrath, Ram and Lakshman were soon alone in the tent. Dashrath leaned heavily to his left as he made an effort to get up, resisting Lakshman’s offer of help with a brusque grunt. Once on his feet, he beckoned Lakshman, placed his hand on his son’s massive shoulders and hobbled over to Ram. Ram, too, had risen slowly to his feet and stood erect. His face was inscrutable, his eyes awash with emotion, though coupled with surprising tranquillity.

Dashrath placed his hands on Ram’s shoulders. ‘Become the man that I could have become; the man that I did not become.’

Ram whispered softly, his vision clouded, ‘Father…’

‘Make me proud,’ said Dashrath, with tears finally welling up in his eyes.

‘Father…’

‘Make me proud, my son.’

All doubts about the tectonic shifts that had taken place in the royal family were laid to rest when Dashrath moved out of Kaikeyi’s wing of the Ayodhya palace. He had been unable to convincingly answer Kaikeyi’s repeated and forceful questions as to why he had suddenly made Ram the crown prince. Dashrath moved in, along with his personal staff, to Kaushalya’s wing. The bewildered chief queen of Ayodhya had suddenly regained her status. But the timid Kaushalya was careful with her newfound elevation. No changes were attempted, though it was difficult to say whether this was because of her diffidence or fear that the good fortune might not last.

Ram’s brothers were delighted. Bharat and Shatrughan had rushed to his chambers on their return from Branga, word having reached them even as they travelled back home. Roshni had decided to join them.

‘Congratulations,
Dada
!’ said Bharat, embracing his elder brother with obvious delight.

‘You deserve it,’ said Shatrughan.

‘He surely does,’ said Roshni, her face suffused with joy. ‘I ran into Guru Vashishta on my way here. He mentioned that the reduction in the crime rate in Ayodhya is only a tiny example of what Ram can truly achieve.’

‘You bet!’ said Lakshman, enthusiastically.

‘All right, all right,’ said Ram, ‘you’re embarrassing me now!’

‘Aaah,’ grinned Bharat, ‘that’s the point of it all,
Dada
!’

‘As far as I know, speaking the truth has not been banned in any scripture,’ said Shatrughan.

‘And we’d better believe him,
Dada
,’ said Lakshman, laughing heartily. ‘Shatrughan is the only man I know who can recite every single
Veda, Upanishad, Brahmana, Aranyaka, Vedanga,
Smriti,
and everything else communicated or known to man!’

‘The weight of his formidable brain pressed so hard upon his body that it arrested his vertical growth!’ Bharat joined in.

Shatrughan boxed Lakshman playfully on his well-toned abdomen, chuckling along good-naturedly.

Lakshman laughed boisterously. ‘Do you really think I can feel your feeble hits, Shatrughan? You may have got all the brain cells created in
Maa’s
womb, but I got all the brawn!’

The brothers laughed even louder. Roshni was happy that, despite all the political intrigue in the Ayodhyan court, the princes shared a healthy camaraderie with each other. Clearly the Gods were looking out for the future of the kingdom.

She patted Ram on his shoulder. ‘I have to go.’

‘Go where?’ asked Ram.

‘Saraiya. You’re aware that I hold a medical camp in our surrounding villages once a month, right? It’s Saraiya’s turn this month.’

Ram looked a little worried. ‘I will send some bodyguards with you. The villages around Saraiya are not safe.’

Roshni smiled. ‘Thanks to you, criminal activity is at an all-time low. Your law enforcement has ensured that. There is nothing to worry about.’

‘I have not been able to achieve that completely, and you know it. Look, there’s no harm in being safe.’

Roshni noticed that Ram was still wearing the
rakhi
she had tied on his wrist a long time ago. She smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Ram. It’s a day trip, I’ll be back before nightfall. And I will not be alone. My assistants will be accompanying me. We will give the villagers free medicines and treatment, if required. Nobody will hurt me. Why would they want to?’

Bharat, who had been listening in on the conversation, stepped up and put his arm around Roshni’s shoulder. ‘You are a good woman, Roshni.’

Roshni smiled in a childlike manner. ‘That I am.’

The blazing afternoon sun did not deter Lakshman, Ayodhya’s finest rider, from honing his skills. He knew that the ability of horse and horseman to come to a sudden halt was of critical advantage in battle. To practise this art he chose a spot some distance away from the city, where sheer cliffs descended into the rapids of the Sarayu deep below.

‘Come on!’ shouted Lakshman, spurring his horse on as it galloped towards the cliff edge.

As his horse thundered dangerously near the edge of the precipice, Lakshman waited till the last moment, leaned forward in his saddle, and wrapped his left arm around the horse’s neck even as he pulled the reins hard with his right. The magnificent beast responded instantly by rearing up on its hind legs. The rear hooves left a mark on the ground as the horse stopped a few feet away from certain death. Gracefully dismounting, Lakshman stroked its mane in appreciation.

‘Well done … well done.’

The horse’s tail swished in acknowledgment of the praise.

‘Once again?’

The animal had had enough and snorted its refusal with a vigorous shake of its head. Lakshman laughed softly as he patted the horse, remounted and steered the reins in the opposite direction. ‘All right. Let’s go home.’

As he rode through the woods, a meeting was in progress a short distance away; one he may have liked to eavesdrop on, had he been aware of it. Guru Vashishta was engrossed in deep discussion with the same mysterious Naga.

‘That said, I’m sorry you…’

‘…failed?’ Vashishta completed his sentence. The guru had returned to Ayodhya after a long and unexplained absence.

‘That is not the word I would have used, Guru
ji
.’

‘It’s appropriate, though. But it’s not just our failure. It’s a failure of—’

Vashishta stopped mid-sentence as he thought he heard a sound.

‘What is it?’ asked the Naga.

‘Did you hear something?’ asked Vashishta.

The Naga looked around, listened carefully for a few seconds, and then shook his head.

‘What about Prince Ram?’ asked the Naga, resuming the conversation. ‘Are you aware that your friend is on his way here, seeking him?’

‘I know that.’

‘What do you intend to do?’

‘What can I do?’ asked Vashishta, raising his hands helplessly. ‘Ram will have to handle this himself.’

They heard the unmistakable sound of a twig snapping. Perhaps it was an animal. The Naga murmured cautiously, ‘I had better go.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Vashishta.

He quickly mounted his horse and looked at Vashishta. ‘With your permission.’

Vashishta smiled and folded his hands into a namaste. ‘Go with Lord Rudra, my friend.’

The Naga returned his namaste. ‘Have faith in Lord Rudra, Guru
ji
.’

The Naga gently tapped his horse into motion and rode away.

‘It’s only a sprain,’ Roshni reassured the child as she wrapped a bandage around his ankle. ‘It will heal in a day or two.’