The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

Floods of Tears and Death by Fire

Song: O Re Piya

Lakshman (who was back to narrating the story after a long and very needed break during Ram versus Ravan) wasn't very used to passively waiting, especially after months of searching and fighting and almost dying. So what could have been minutes felt like hours, and what could have been the duration of one wave felt like a thousand.

At last, Ram's shoulders relaxed. Lakshman stood up when Ram did. The day had arrived. A thousand hands of heaven pulled the night from the sky, the Earth turned its back on the very last star and the moon slowly sank from glory. The war was over.

It was time for recovery.

Ram turned around, walking towards his brother with a new purpose. "I can't believe I've taken this long to recover, Laksh. I'm very impatient to meet Sita. I just-" Ram cut himself off with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. "Very anxious. Who would have told Sita that this is all over? How would she have reacted?"

Hanuman snorted, stepping forward with hands folded behind his back. "Prabhu, if I may? I can ease this worry of yours. I told the rakshasi that guards her, a kindly demoness named Trijata, to keep an eye out for petals raining out of the sky and/or other divine symbols from the serials and to tell Maa Sita immediately. She must already be eagerly waiting for your call, Shri Ram. Shall I bring her here?"

Ram swallowed, stepped from foot to foot. Lakshman wondered what bhaiyya could possibly be thinking about now. How long did they have to wait? If he had to sit around one more minute, he might just learn how to fly and bring Maa Sita back to them right now. Or maybe he could convince Angad to get his bhabhi back instead. Or maybe he could storm Lanka when nobody was watching. Like Kishkindha part 2, except with no one to stop him. Or maybe he could-

Then Ram smiled and Lakshman's shoulders eased. "As quickly as you can, Pawanputra."

Hanuman laughed, swelling to a hundred sizes. "I can move faster than the wind above the ocean, Prabhu. I can race the mounts of the Gods if it is for you. Bringing Maa Sita back to you would be my honor."

-----O-----

And once again, they were all anxiously waiting for Hanuman on a beach. "This is, like, the fourth time this exact situation has happened," Neel grumbled. "I think, for one, that some of us other vanars should get the chance to fly to Lanka. I've never got to set the city on fire. I've never got to rescue Maa Sita or provoke Ravan or offer any threatening peace treaties. "

"But we don't want to set the city on fire," Ram laughed. "It's Vibhishan's kingdom now. We couldn't leave it in ruins, could we?" Neel sighed dramatically, all his pyromaniac plans for life having been erased, and Nal and Angad (who had, by now, set up a waiting lobby for anyone that could be possibly waiting for Hanuman, complete with refreshments and a very pricey ice cream cart) quickly caught an arm of his before he collapsed. Vibhishan looked very relieved, though.

Lakshman noticed that despite the obvious jubilation and laughter, there was still a tense muscle in bhaiyya's throat, something reserved in his eyes. Oh God. What could possibly be wrong now? Could bhaiyya foresee a new war? Was there some clause to the exile that he hadn't been told? Did they really have to set poor Vibhishan's city on fire?

For the first time in a long time, Lakshman consciously (for he was thinking about her unconsciously all the time) missed Urmila. That wife of his, she could probably say something ridiculous enough to even get his bhaiyya probably chuckling. Oh Urmila. All of a sudden, fourteen years of lost yearning caught up to him, and Lakshman just wanted to see her.