SITA’S SISTER (41 page)

They had arrived home. The palace was fully lit up with oil lamps and twinkling lanterns, flickering at every nook and corner, and the fragrance of incense and scented oils lingered heavily in the air. Thick festoons of jasmine, champa and marigold sculpted a colourful mantle at every archway, impregnating the air with their heady fragrance. Kausalya had left for Nandigram to welcome them there and Urmila saw them getting down from the chariot with Bharat and the elder queen mother.

Standing on the same steps where she had bid him adieu, she again held in her hands a gold tray for the aarti to welcome him home. Fourteen years later. Her hands were as unsteady as last time when she had performed the aarti, her eyes as steady. She could not take her eyes off him, gazing deeply as the light of the flickering diya shone in his deeply thoughtful, brooding eyes. They were no longer smouldering with suppressed intensity. Instead there lurked a gentleness, a serenity in them that was deep and unfathomable. The fire burning bright in his eyes seemed to have somehow died. The forest had tamed him. She was quick to notice the dark, angry gash on his chest. That was where the poisoned arrow of Indrajit had struck him…and when she had almost lost him. Her hands shook. Lakshman saw her looking at it and murmured, ‘I lived for you. The meaning of my life is you. You got me home, Mila. And my last thought was your smiling face with those large, sad eyes.’

Her eyes were burning with unshed tears and anguish. ‘Please let me cry now,’ she swallowed convulsively.

He gently took the golden plate from her nerveless fingers. ‘No, don’t wash this happiness with tears, Mila. I am sure none of these people will allow us to do anything in private for quite some time!’ he said with his lopsided smile, looking at Shanta and his mother ready with the vermilion and flowers in their hands. Urmila smiled through her gathering tears as he bent down to touch his mother’s feet and the family soon swallowed him in gestures of affection and delighted squeals. But he had managed to grab his small moment of seclusion with her. As incorrigible as always, she could not help smiling. A great emotion of joyfulness, an ineffable esctasy flowed through her veins, injecting her with an infectious blitheness.

As Lakshman was led away with Ram and Sita for further ceremonies in the hall, Urmila noticed them always standing close together, their hands clasped firmly, to never let go. Ram looked weary, severely battle-scarred, but a small smile always hovered on his chiselled, beatific face. Urmila noticed he kept glancing anxiously at Sita, afraid that she would disappear any moment. Her heart constricted; he must have gone mad with grief when Sita had been snatched away. Just as it was for her, Sita and Lakshman were the two most precious people in his life—he had almost lost both of them in his mission and knowing him, he would never forgive himself. For the first time, she felt a special feeling of kinship with her brother-in-law. They both dearly loved the same persons.

Ram headed straight first towards Kaikeyi, regal and lovely as always, the punishing years having added a stoic elegance. He bent down to touch her feet and placing his palms on her feet said, ‘I have done what you wanted me to achieve.’

Urmila found his statement vaguely ambiguous—did Ram, too, know what he had been destined for? And was that why he was grateful to Ma Kaikeyi, knowing that she had sacrificed her good name to take on a lifetime of infamy and the stigma of disgrace and despication for him?

Kaikeyi’s answer confirmed her doubt. ‘Fate is funny. It makes us shape our own destiny. And you have done the greatest duty of all—you have relieved the nation of great danger and a greater enemy. You did it. Not I.’

Ram smiled at her gratefully and it was Bharat’s turn to face his mother. For the first time, he did not see through her or cast her a look of contempt or a word of anger. His eyes soft with love, and sorrowful with remorse, he could not utter a word. He sought her blessings and she enfolded him in a gentle embrace. Both did not need to say anything; their wordless embrace spoke for them, for all that they had lost, and all that they had gained.

At last her son had come back to her—she had got back Bharat. Being her son’s mother had redeemed Kaikeyi in the eyes of the world. As the mother of a virtuous, selfless son like Bharat her lost honour had been restored considerably.

Urmila felt a tug on her arm. Sita was nudging her urgently. ‘I need to talk with you. Right now,’ she whispered.

Urmila scanned her sister’s face anxiously. She was lovely, the ethereal quality still strong but the prettiness had shed way to be tempered with an emotional hardness.

‘Let’s go to your chamber,’ she answered briskly. ‘You need to get dressed up and I am supposed to supervise your scented bath anyway.’

The moment Urmila shut the door of the inner chamber, she turned worrriedly to her elder sister. ‘What is so urgent?’ she asked.

‘I had to talk with you before Lakshman gets to speak to you about it.’

The glow of pleasure abruptly dimmed. Urmila could not stem the unease curling up inside her. What now?

Sita seemed to summon all her courage and convictions. ‘I have done the most unpardonable. I accused Lakshman of an unutterable crime!’ she whispered, barely managing to get the words out, wringing her hands in apparent nervousness.

Urmila wanted to still Sita’s trembling hands but she remained silent, afraid to interrupt, fearful of the next words.

‘…I made the most heinous accusations at him…’ cried Sita.

‘Sita, please come to the point,’ said Urmila, preparing for the worst. ‘What happened?’

Sita gave her a helpless look. ‘It all started with the wretched golden dear! I saw it and fell hopelessly for it—I had to have it! It was like a spell—I was compleltely mesmerised. I requested Ram to get it for me. Lakshman immediately warned us that this could be a ruse as the demons in the forest excelled at disguises. I saw Ram hesitate at Lakshman’s warning and I got indignant. I was more petulant. I implored, I begged Ram to give me that one gift which I could take home and keep in the palace. Ram relented, much to Lakshman’s horror. But I felt vindicated. I thought I had won. Again Lakshman cautioned him but Ram agreed to fetch that beautiful deer. He ordered Lakshman to stay behind as he hunted down the deer. With great reluctance, Lakshman acquiesced, pleading yet again with Ram not to go. His constant admonishments infuriated me but finally Ram left, leaving us in the hut. I could barely hide my annoyance with Lakshman but waited eagerly for Ram to return with the deer. And soon we heard that eerie, inhuman cry of Ram screaming for Lakshman for help. It made my blood curdle but Lakshman remained unperturbed. I could not believe my eyes. The faithful Lakshman seemed so calm, so unfazed at his brother’s agonized plea. I had expected him to hurry off to save him but when he remained stoicly silent, I orderd him to go seek his brother. He refused citing that he could not disobey his brother’s orders. Besides, this was a trick to fool all of us and he assured me that Ram was safe. I did not believe him: I could not believe him. Each passing moment was making me go wild with worry, crazed with what must have happened to Ram. All I could do was stand helplessly and beseech Lakshman but he seemed to be in a strange, stubborn mood of not listening to me at all. He stood his ground and remained unmoved despite all my imploring. And I lost my temper, mad with anxiety and anger. I shouted at him to go and look for his brother. I scolded him, I screamed at him, but he kept reassuring me that Ram would come back safe and unscathed. Crazed with worry and driven insane by now, I don’t know what came over me to say the unspeakable…’

Urmila saw Sita hesitate, and gave her an imploring look but she did not prompt what Sita had to say. She waited with a heavy heart. What had Sita said to Lakshman that made her so ashamed of repeating the words?

‘Agitated and exasperated with fury, I lashed out at Lakshman that he did not wish to help his brother as he wanted him dead as he had designs on me,’ she blurted, her face flaming a deep red.

Urmila’s heart lurched painfully, thudding hard at every word her sister had enunciated. She couldn’t have said that, she wanted to shout in disbelief and horror.

Sita’s voice faltered but she went on, determinedly. ‘I accused him of plotting with Bharat to get rid of Ram at an opportune time so that Bharat would get the throne and Lakshman would get me…’

Sita could no longer go on, her words dying in her mouth, her face flaming hot with shame. She could not look into her sister’s eyes. She buried her face in her hands.

He must have been shattered, was all Urmila could think of—hurt, heartbroken, disillusioned, mortified. He must have died a thousand deaths in that moment. What must he have gone through?

What must have Sita gone through to be able to utter those words? A frightened young wife gone crazy imagining her husband in grievous danger. Going slowly out of her mind, demented with fear and grief, desperate and deranged. Urmila could imagine the state of her sister, mad with despair and hopelessness, searching for any means and words to rouse Lakshman from his apathy. In her frantic desperation, she would have said anything to goad him. These were the insults she could fling at him, to shake him out of his perceived indifference, to prod him to rush to Ram’s aid.

‘I could see the shock on his face, his sorrow, his anger, but I was relentless. Yet he refused to leave me alone in the hut, refusing to disobey his brother’s order,’ continued Sita, trembling at the memory of her words. ‘Finally, I threatened to kill myself if he did not leave and go to Ram. Humiliated and helpless, he agreed but before leaving he warned me again, and with his Agni astra, he drew a long, mystic line all around the hut. Lakshman forbid me to cross it warning me that if I did, I would be unprotected by human social law, and be just another creature in the wilderness where the jungle law prevailed. I heard his admonishment, but did not listen to him. Had I not crossed that line, Ravan could not have touched me. Ravan realized the power of that protective Lakshman rekha, for he could not step inside. I crossed it and was abducted because of my foolishness. I unwisely coveted the golden deer and, made Ram leave me to hunt for the deer and the biggest sin of all, I suspected and made the most crass insinuation against a virtuous man like Lakshman. A man who had forsaken everything to come to the forest and selfessly served and guarded me till that moment. I insulted his very being, his soul. I consistently ignored his warnings, I disobeyed him. And the abduction and the aftermath is my punishment for hurting the honour of that good man. I had to pay for my sin, didn’t I?’

‘Haven’t you suffered enough, Sita?’ asked Urmila, taking her hand in hers. ‘Why do you insist on inflicting yourself with this punishing guilt and self-remonstration?’

Sita shook her head violently ‘But I cannot forgive myself! Ram has not forgiven me and I dare not ask for Lakshman’s forgiveness either,’ she said wretchedly. She threw Urmila an uncertain look. ‘Do you? Are you not upset with me?’

Urmila pressed her hand assuringly. ‘No, why would I be? It was an abnormal, terrible situation and you reacted violently saying things in the heat of the moment. The words were offensive and seriously hurtful,’ she started slowly, ‘and it was unbecoming of you and yes, you must have grievously hurt Lakshman but he must have forgiven you too. Those were trying times, let them be,’ she gave a long sigh. ‘It has been difficult for all of us. Don’t rake them and relive them. They will only destroy us. In fact, Sita, you need not have let me know. Why did you tell me?’

‘To allow you to know the sordid truth before Lakshman shared it with you.’

Urmila gave a small, sad smile. ‘He would probably have not told me at all…’ her voice trailed uncertainly.

Sita looked shocked. ‘Why would he not? I know he shares everything with you!’

‘To protect you,’ said Urmila quietly.

Sita was dumbstruck. ‘Lakshman would have never spoken poorly about you or revealed anything about you that would have distressed me. Or made me choose between you and him. Never!’ Urmila said fiercely. ‘He loves me too much to force that choice.’

‘…but now I made you do so,’ whispered Sita, horrified.

‘No, you made me love him more, which I thought would not be possible,’ said Urmila, her eyes soft with a deep, stirring emotion.

‘And made you despise me for what I did!’ cried Sita.

‘No, is our love so weak that it cannot encompass our transgressions, our faults, our flaws? We love each other too much to not know all what each has been through,’ she sighed sadly.

‘I created this mess and I suffered for it! Had I heeded Ram in the first place and not forced him to take me with him, had I listened to Lakshman and Ram and not been so stupidly stubborn about possessing that deer, had I not goaded Lakshman with my insults…Urmi, how do I undo what I did?’ Sita was weeping, her face wet and wretched, the tears burning down her pale, hollow cheeks.

Urmila held her shaking shoulders in a warm embrace, trying to protect her from further pain. ‘We made mistakes…let’s just learn from them and not keep searching for justifications. Life is too short to have regrets. And too long to endure the tribulations,’ she said, gazing at her sister long and searchingly. ‘And you are too precious for me, I went crazy thinking the worst when you were kidnapped. And now I have you back inspite of everything. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. I don’t want anything more! For I don’t dare lose you again.’

Urmila felt the hot prick of her welling tears and she at last allowed them to flow freely, washing away the bleakness, the agony and anguish, the despair and desolation of those last so many years. There was still so much to be said. The sisters wept in each other’s arms, holding on to each other, holding on to a new hope, expecting the best possible outcome from the past they had suffered and yearning for some possibility of fulfilment.