The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

Character Drabbles

She looked up at the sound of steadily approaching footsteps, and looked upon the inquisitive face of her husband. Lakshman. He looked at her distraught face, one look, and realized her plight. "Sita bhabhi is with Ram bhaiyya. Come and see." She followed him to the couple's room, where she, with her heart panging, saw the newlyweds were feeding each other.

"They love each other very much, you know? Just like we do, but perhaps tenfold." Urmila felt jealousy creeping inside of her. That brother-in-law was slowly taking the place of her, and she didn't like it. She had a right mind to march in and shake his shoulders, but held herself back. Her sister was happy with him. That was enough for her.

"I think that maybe we should leave." she heard a mutter beside her. "I feel like we're intruding upon some private moment, and I feel very odd." She agreed with Lakshman, and they began to walk down the endless corridors again, talking about every which thing.

Whenever Lakshman talked, Urmila listened, for the times were scarce. Part of the reason she loved her husband so much was that he listened to her. She always tried to do the same, but often caught herself interrupting his carefully chosen words. Whenever she did this, and realized it too, she would feel like slapping herself. But, she knew the reason.

Whenever Lakshman would go off on anything, be it a Hunting Trip, or a village visit, or even a playful duel with Ayodhya's children, her heart would hammer at a speed unbelievable to most. She knew how easy it was for him to get hurt. He could bear pain like no one else, but still. Some day, he might not return.

And so Urmila crammed all the words she could into his ears. Angry ones, kind ones, sorrowful ones, frustrating ones, and everything possibly in between. For, Urmila believed that every emotion was caused by love. Be it love for a person, place, or thing. So she tried to force an underlying tone of love in her words, that if, some horrible day, that the despicable fates threw upon her the one thing she couldn't manage, the death of her husband, that his last thoughts may be of her love. And if he ever felt like life wasn't worth fighting for, she would be there for him. Her love would be there for him.

Urmila shook her head, wincing, as Lakshman's words suddenly came to a halt. He was looking at her confusedly, and waved a hand in front of her eyes. Urmila jumped. "Ah, yes, goodbye, Laksh! Love you!" and she ran off.

Love you would slip out everywhere in her words. It was as if she was made of love itself, that it seeped into every single thing she did. She had even confessed to her current husband with an accidental "I Love You" that had slipped out without her knowing at the time. She would sometimes stare at trees and ponds in the gardens, and when she said goodbye, she would say "I Love You", in pure accident.

The truth was, Urmila saw the two people whom she loved the most, Lakshman and Sita, everywhere. If a cherry blossom tree shed pink flowers, Urmila would fondly think of Sita's beauty, pick one up, and put it in her hair, as to carry Sita everywhere with her, if not physically, in her fond memories and thoughts. If a tree stood particularly tall and stubborn, she would think of Lakshman, and wrap her arms around it, as to comfort him as if he were having one of his tempers. Truthfully, she never hugged him when he was shouting, only shouted back, but she would always have liked to have the presence of mind to hug him. Maybe it would make the world a better place.

A/N-Loving can describe many people in the Ramayana. However, I felt that it described Urmila the most. Every single memorable thing she did was because of the fierce love she had stored inside her for two people in specific, her husband, and her sister.

Shrutakirti "The Devoted"

"Are you sure you want to marry me?" her husband had asked, almost jumping for joy. "Me? Really? You love me?" When Shrutakirti had nodded, Shatrughan had bound forward, hugged her, and danced off into the distance, waving his arms like the rising sun. Shrutakirti stared after him, smiling at his retreating back.

Suddenly, he came running back. "But, but, wait. I am the fourth in line for the throne." he frowned for a second. "Why would you love someone with nothing to his name but prankster? Why would you, Shruta, when you of such beauty and kindness and understanding could have someone else, a king, who could keep you much happier and wealthier?" Shurtakirti smiled at him, shaking her head.

"Happiness does not lie in wealth, nor status, nor even power. Happiness lies in love. And I love you, Shatrughan. Besides, a prankster is many things. Strategic, smart, and mentally stable. I think that you would make a great ruler, and husband." She stroked his cheek, smiling as Shatrughan leaned into her hand.

"I will always support you," she murmured. "In all of your endeavours." And this was what she had repeated to the worried Shatrughan who was pacing around in front of the throne of the Late Raja Dasharath. "I will always support you. The kingdom will back down, but I will not. Your brothers may back down, but I will not. My sisters may wail and cry, and throw insults upon you and Ayodhya, but I. Will. Not. " She jutted her chin out.

"Mandavi is bitter, she is afraid that Bharat will leave her, and in her love for him, she is scared. I am not. Urmila is scared for her husband and her sister. I am not. Maa Sumitra is mourning, she is strong, but she is sad. I am ready to face anything if you are by my side." Shatrughan looked up at her words, and smiled, suddenly coming to decision at his wife's determined and dedicated words.

"Then I will make a statement." Both of them nodded, and a newly rejuvenated Shatrughan walked off quickly, hair still perfect as always, shining with renewed strength at his wife's words. Shrutakirti sighed. It had been so long since she had first uttered those words of belief in her husband. He had scarcely believed her.

Urmila was deprived of her husband for fourteen years. Her elder cousin would often come into her chambers and cry into her hair, but walk off only moments later, determined to "Stay Strong for Laksh". Shrutakirti admired her strength, and wished she had some of it. Either way, Urmila was covering up a lot of pain, and she would be here to support her heartbroken sister. She would always be here.

Maa Sumitra, her mother-in-law, was without two of her sons. Ram, whom she had hoped would be the king, and Lakshman. She loved the twins equally, Shatrughan was the bringer of her joy and kept her on her toes, but Lakshman was the enhancer of her joy and pride, achieving her some favor, third queen as she was. Shrutakirti admired Maa Sumitra, her courage and her selflessness, for she knew no jealousy or bitterness for her elder, more favoured sisters. Only love. But Maa Sumitra was sad, filled with sorrow, pining for her sons, daughter-in-law, and husband. And Shrutakirti would always be there.

Mandavi was angry. She was uptight, and tough. She did not want to lose her husband, and she would fight tooth and nail for him to stay back with her. Shrutakirti wished she had such spirit, such determination for what was right, to make her will come true. But Mandavi was in pain. She would often sob between her words, choke with sadness. And Shrutakirti would always hug her. For she would always be there.

She would alight in her husband a fierce courage that he had forgotten, a belief in himself that he had lost. She would make Urmila's despairing fourteen years livable, breathable, and though nothing could make them happy, she would stuff some life into them! She would bandage Mandavi's wounds, rekindle the dying fire of her trust in the world. For Shrutakirti knew. She knew the world was hard, and that it was filled with anger, and loss, and mistrust, and hate alike. But through all of that, she would always be there for those she loved. No matter if she was forgotten. Or left unloved. Or had no one there for herself to cry to sometimes. She would always be there, no matter what.

A/N-Shrutakirti is a lovely character to write, and her devotion towards her family shines through. Urmila could not always have been strong, Shatrughan filled with self-confidence, Sumitra with understanding. But Shrutakirti was, and she helped them through the years.

A/N-So this chapter was obviously written a bit differently, but I loved the style, and it was honestly very enjoyable to write and hopefully, to read as well. I did leave Mandavi out of this, because I was not sure what to write about her. Anyone have ideas? Does anyone want to read part two of my character sketch drabbles? Also, I know, you all want part 3 of the jealousy chapter. This is my way of building up suspense, hehe. 

Also thank you to everyone that sent me ideas. @n-i-t-h-y-a, I am going to use part of your idea when I post part 3, and the other part after the marriage is over. @Ridhima123_, I also will be using your idea later, as its own chapter. @Apukar, your Bharat breaks shyness idea will also be used as its own chapter! THANK YOU!