Fleeting Moments-Ramayan Oneshots

Opulence

Yet as he saw them leaving on their horses at the wake of dawn, the back of their heads getting smaller and smaller, Ram wondered if he would lose them too.

But no matter! Ram had his Papa, Dasharath. And while the elder man was always a king, a regal king who had been ruling for thousands of years, they were closer than fathers and sons normally were. Ram had his Papa, in whose warm embrace he would sleep sometimes when he got restless about the future. Ram had his Papa to reassure him about his ability and teach him how to nock an arrow in his bow and let it fly. He always had Papa to catch him.

Ram would always have his father to guide him throughout kingship, and throughout life. He couldn't imagine one without him.

-----O-----

"P-Papa is...dead?" Ram asked weakly, his voice a raspy whisper. Bharat swallowed, staring at the ground almost guiltily, and behind him, Shatrughan, and behind him, their mothers. Ram stared at them, and his knees buckled. 

Lakshman rushed forward to catch him before he hit the ground, and in his arms, in front of the entire family, Ram started to cry.

His mothers didn't wipe his tears, but sobbed themselves. Ram could hear the muffled sound, but only barely over his own gasps. Bharat and Shatrughan could do nothing but stare at the ground and try to prevent their own tears, and only Sita's hand on his shaking shoulder could pull him out of his misery.

He had always had his father, his brothers, his mothers. Yet, he felt like he had lost all of them in one go as he watched them walk away from his little cottage in the woods.

-----O-----

But he still had Sita. Sita, who was like a crystal rose, delicate but strikingly beautiful in all her fragile strength. Sita, whom he could now love without other's teasing eyes or quiet reprimands. It was just them, in their own world, in the middle of the forest.

But Ram felt guilty, for what was a crystal rose without its polish? Sita had grown up in a royal family, with all the monarchical benefits her doting father could afford. She'd been married to him with the high faith that she would live with the same, if not more luxury.

So when she had asked for the deer, in all of her innocent desire, Ram could do nothing but try to get it for her, hoping that it could provide some semblance of home in Kosala. Home, where they would soon return.

"Bhaiyya!" Lakshman called after him. "Be careful! The deer looks fishy to me."

"I'll be back soon, Sita!" Ram laughed, his voice betraying his excitement. "And I'll have that fishy deer with me, don't worry!"

"I could never worry if I am relying on you." Sita smiled.

Ram was used to leaving. He left Kosala for Chitrakut. He left Chitrakut for Dandakaranya. He was leaving Sita. But he was never used to people leaving him. Sita would still be there, in their cottage, when he came back. Sure, there was that nagging feeling that appeared in his thoughts, unwelcomed. But it was nothing.

Ram had no idea that his crystal rose would shatter that day and disappear as if lifted from his treasury by a sly thief. Ram had no idea that he would lose Sita.

-----O------

He screamed. Ram, who had never known rage, controller of his emotions, screamed, clutching at his hair, dropping to his knees under the weight of his guilt. Lakshman tried to lift him up, but Ram stayed adamantly glued to the ground, as if begging the Earth to swallow him up and spare his senses from the grief.