Satataharitam - Short Stories On Narayana

Reminiscent

Urmila had been standing at the terrace nearly all night. That night reminded her of her husband more than anything had ever before. She hadn't known what it was, but now she did.

All his eloquence forgotten, a devastated Bharata had poured to the family the news he had received, not in the most comforting way. He was himself not quite in a state to fathom everything and explain it in a sugar coated manner. He had just recalled exactly what the mighty ape, Hanuman, had told him.

Not only had Sita been abducted, but Lakshmana was at the jaws of death.

When Bharata had asked Urmila if she was okay, she had smiled and nodded, saying that nothing would ever happen to her husband. He was under the protection of their Ram Bhaiya. What could ever happen to him?

Now, as the moonlight, that seemed far from soothing, fell on her tear-bathed face, as it reflected off the tears that filled her eyes when she looked at the moon, she could feel all her optimism crumbling.

Lakshmana always compared her to the moon she was looking at. But she always found him in the same moon. Every time she looked at it, she knew he'd be shining like it. High up in the sky, but always after his Bhaiya, and never allowing himself to shine more than him.

Everyone saw him as the sun instead. Fiery, bright, hot-tempered. But she knew that he was more like the moon she was looking at. Just his presence soothed her. His finger brushing her hand felt like the most comforting gesture in the universe. To hide her face in his chest and to be crushed in an embrace by him was paradise. Just like the moonlight so often provided comfort and happiness to her.

But would she ever experience any of that again?

What if he would really be gone? What if the Brahmastra would prove to be far too strong for him?

She tried to shake herself out of those thoughts, but they were almost magnetic. She couldn't stop. Her heart pounded in her head and her breathing was shallow. It was like she was having a nightmare, but she was already awake. There was no escape.

Even her mind seemed to be turning against her, playing painful tricks with her. It brought in front of her the dreary image of her husband, lying lifelessly, barely breathing, life being drained out of him.

His voice was ringing in her ears, but she could only hear them as incoherent words, presumably because her brain was only really focusing on the owner of the voice she was hearing.

She always donned the exterior of a strong, resolute woman who believed that things would fall into place. But how true was it? Did she really feel that way? Especially when the life in him was dwindling away? When the hopes were only going down with every passing second? When she couldn't help but think that she'd forever have to live without him?

He'd told her that he would return. Had he just given her a false promise?

"Mila, I have no option but to follow Bhaiya into Dandakaranya. If I do not do so, you'll not see me alive for much longer. I'll die without Bhaiya, Urmila, I really will. He's the reason for my existence. Without him, I'm nothing. I need his presence to survive. I'm sorry, but I will not be able to live here. I'll need to go."

Urmila stared at her husband, letting him take her trembling hands in his. Just the thought that she wouldn't be able to see him for fourteen full years broke her.

"Urmi, I-I know what I'm doing is wrong. Y-You've done nothing to deserve a husband who leaves you like this. I know I'm not-"

"Stop." she whispered. Lakshmana looked up, into her eyes, but the tears filling his eyes blurred his vision. "You're telling me... Laksh, you're telling me that I won't get to see you for the next fourteen years?"