The Inseparable Princes

47. Transformation

Near the banks of Godavari stood a man. His skin tone was like that of some beautiful rain clouds that swan around the sky in Varsharitu - the monsoon. He smiled ever so radiantly that the world wouldn't be able to take eyes off his face. He blushed slightly, as he looked in the distance.

There she stood - the one who could make the lord of the universe get lost; lost in love. She was feeding some little fish, as she held a clay pot filled with water on the curve of her hip and almost hugged it with her left arm. Her smile was the most contagious thing ever, it had always been. She peeked into the water and saw her face. Beautiful. Her eyes looked gorgeous, a magnificent hazel, filled with innocence, love, kindness and compassion for all. Her nose was perfect. The simple, gold nose-ring that she wore was almost the same colour as her golden complexion. Her enchanting hair sat obediently behind her ears, the little, simplistic earrings dangling down from them. Her beautiful, lotus-pink lips curved into a captivating smile, and when she giggled, her flawless, jasmine-like teeth enhanced her grace. But suddenly, as she continued to look at the reflection, she could see a frown forming on her face. Her eyes that had once seen her father-in-law's immeasurable joy had never seen such joy afterward. Her nose that had sniffed in the aroma of the speciality dishes that all her mothers had once cooked for the children, it had only sniffed in the wet forest soil's fragrance. She hadn't heard her sisters' rants for years now, and her ears begged her to make them listen to those innocent complaints that they'd have about their respective husbands. Speaking of their husbands, she hadn't giggled at the innocent, light-hearted antics that her three brothers-in-law performed for her, whenever she made one of their favourite dishes. Her hands started to tremble just a little, and Rama, from quite a lot of distance too, could sense that easily. He walked up to her instantly, and held the pot for her.

"Sita? What happened?" he asked.

"I-I was just thinking h-how everything has changed. Not for good!" she said, still trembling a little. Rama set the pot down and held her hands in his own.

"How do you know it's not for good?" he asked. It was Sri Vishnu speaking to Devi Lakshmi, more than Rama to Sita. "There's a reason for everything, don't you always say that?" She nodded hesitantly.

"I do, but I'm sure things would've gone wrong, there in Ayodhya. Can you think about the mothers and our siblings?" she said.

"I can," he started. "But I hate to. It hurts my heart to think about Bharat, or Shatru, or Urmila, or Mandavi, or Keerti. It hurts to think about all our mothers too. But is there something we can do?"

"I don't want to do anything as yet," she said. There was some meaning to that statement. They certainly had a job to do.

"Okay, then, my love. We should return now, Lakshman will be very mad at us for taking too long. He'll say that it's his responsibility and all that! You don't want to listen to that!" he said, widening his eyes dramatically, as Sita chuckled at his narration.

"Come on, let's go," she said. They walked to their cottage, talking about any of the things in the universe, anything, any possible thing. As they walked closer, Rama could see the figure of Lakshmana, busy as a bee, as he always was, doing some work. He almost called out to him, but something made him stop. He found no voice to speak. He only nodded along to whatever Sita was telling him.

His brother. He had changed quite a bit. He once used to be absolutely innocent, carefree at one point of time. The twins, actually, had taken a very long time to decide that they needed to grow up. And they took even longer to implement it, after having decided.

His closest brother had grown up, he had changed. His fair skin had turned a little tanned, because he always wanted to do all the work in the world for them, and being out in the sun for that long made him get a little tanned. That, however, didn't bring any change to him, as much as his mental domain had brought.