Lakshmana's Twin

The kingdom was celebrating. Lamps, laughter everywhere. Deepawali, they called it. The festival of lights.

"Is he asleep?" A whisper of a question came from behind me, and I turned to look at my wife standing in the doorway.

"He was dead to the world two hours ago."

"Then why are you still holding him?" asked Shruthakirti in surprise, and I went on the defensive.

"Is it a crime to hold one's son while he sleeps?"

"No, of course not. I just..." she trailed off. A small pause, and I felt a soft, familiar touch on my shoulder.

"Nadha, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I assured her, but it came out as a sigh.

"No. You've been like this ever since we heard."

"Then why did you ask me, if you already knew the answer?"

"Is it a crime to enquire on one's husband's well-being?" she teased, and my usual amusement at her sharp, quick, tongue failed me. She, of course, noticed.

"What's wrong? " she asked, genuine concern etched on her face and voice. But then that was my Kirti, always out to care for others.

"It's just...everything's coming back to me now. And I'm overwhelmed." I confessed.

"Everything?" she asked in confusion.

"Our childhood memories, our wedding memories, the failed coronation. And, most importantly, the events following his leaving...everything..." I tried explaining feebly.

"But it's all turned out to be OK now. So why are you worrying over them? I don't understand."

I sighed again and looked down at my son instead of answering her.

Shurasena. Such a handsome little boy. No doubt he will be breaking hearts in the future. Such a naughty, and yet talented little boy. Just like his uncles.

That thought brought another sigh out of me. I looked up, and saw that my behavior was worrying her.

"Kirti, I'm going to tell you some things now, and I want you to swear on our sons that you will never reveal it to anyone for the rest of your life. Ever. "

"Ok,Nadha. I swear on Shurasena and Yupaketu that I will never reveal what you are about to confide in me. Now tell me what is bothering you." She asked anxiously.

I didn't know how to start. But then I decided that the beginning was a good place.

"I was angry, Kirti. I was so angry at them all."

"At whom?"

"At my father, for dying. At my mother, for losing herself after my father's death. At that old crone Manthara, for her evil intentions towards my family. At mother Kaikeyi, for listening and falling prey to Manthara's lies. So many people." I ranted, a small bit of that anger coming back.

"In particular, at him. How could he leave me alone just like that and go? He took Lakshman with him. He gave Bharatha his blessings in the form of his divine slippers. How could he forget me?" I demanded.

"You still carry this anger around with you." She observed.

"Yes." I confessed.

"This is not healthy for you, Nadha, this anger. It will eat away at you slowly."

"What if I don't care? Who's going to mind if I die? It's almost as if I don't exist, anyway." I muttered the last part, not wanting to upset her, but she heard anyway, and gasped in horror.

"Nadha! What are you talking about? This isn't the Shathrugna I know. The one I know is mighty, and brave, and a true destroyer of evil, like his name suggests. But what you are saying now- it frightens me, Nadha. I cannot even begin to imagine a life without you."

"Don't worry. I am not a coward. I will live. Live and do my duty to my family and my kingdom." I assured her, and she let out a small involuntary sob that tugged at my heartstrings. I set Shurasena down into his cradle and took Kirti into my arms.

"I'm trying, Kirti. I'm trying really hard to let go of this resentment and bitterness. And I think I am succeeding. My anger has subsided. My hate, diminished. Only the bitterness is left. But that, too, will fly away once I gaze at his serene face."

"You love him. Even through the bitterness." Kirti said, amazed, and I smiled.

"Always. My love for my family and my Lord is like the pole star- constant and unshakeable. It guides and dictates my life, as the star does to travelers. However bitter or angry I am, it won't matter, for, in the end, love always triumphs."

"Then why are you worried?" she asked, confused.

"Because I don't know how to face him. What will I do when he asks me how I've been? What I've been doing? What will I say?"

"The truth. That while he has just returned from a great battle. You have been fighting battles of your own. It was you who helped Bharatha run the kingdom. You who helped the Rajamathas out of their sorrow. You who have brought up two wonderful sons." She pointed out, and I laughed.

"You are my wife. You are obliged to say good things about me."

"Look at my face." She said, and pulled an adorable pout.

"Would I lie to you?" she asked, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously, and I laughed again. Her pout transformed into a beautiful smile.

"It has been long since I heard you laugh, Nadha." She said, and I realized that I had been moody and glum all month.

"I am sorry if I worried you. That was the last thing on my mind." I apologized guiltily.

"It's ok, but please promise me that you will speak to me from now on, Nadha, about whatever is bothering you. I can't bear to see you like this." She implored.

"I promise, love." I smiled and caressed her cheek gently.

"It has been like setting down a burden, talking to you," I admitted. She simply smiled, and we stood there like there, gazes locked until the gong sounded. Regrettable, Kirti pulled away.

"They're here! Are you ready?" she asked, excitedly. I took in a deep breath.

"I've been ready for fourteen years," I said, and we walked hand in hand out of the room to greet them.

The kingdom was celebrating. Lamps, laughter, everywhere. Deepawali, they called it, the festival of lights.

The kingdom was celebrating, for their ruler, Lord Ram, had returned...