The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

Delays, Departures, and Turbulence

-----O-----

 The seas were beneath them, and the skies above. If he reached up, he might have been able to sift his hands through the clouds. Lakshman squinted at the approaching mainland, the green tip of the great peninsula. He couldn't believe they were returning. 

 It was over. Fourteen years were over. Forest and beaches and boundless swamps of horrors. Maa Kaikeyi's boon had overstayed its welcome on this Earth. 

 He wondered what Kosala would look like. The high forests of the borderlands, and the golden streets of Ayodhya. Everyone would be rejoicing, of course, at bhaiyya and bhabhi's return. What had changed? What remained the same? It didn't matter. As long as bhaiyya was crowned king, as God intended, nothing mattered.

 Yes, Lakshman thought. He could feel it. The world was about to be just perfect.  

 "Do you think we should let Bharat know?" Sita asked, leaning against the edge of the chariot. "To prepare for our return."

 Ram smiled, dark hair flying in the wind. "I've already sent someone."

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

 If Hanuman had been particularly looking forward to riding the Pushpak Viman, he hadn't said so. Prabhu's command had been to inform Bharat bhaiyya of his return, and he was planning to do just that. For now, Hanuman was content with soaring through the wind, so far above that the banyans were just green dots, and the rich rivers became thin lines. 

 On the banks of the Sarayu, a glint of gold caught his eye. "Have Kosala's riverbanks become rich with precious metals?" Hanuman asked. "Maybe I should check it out, scout some financial options if the royal treasury needs a boost." He slowed his flight carefully, shrinking until he could land on top of one of the higher trees. 

 Actually, the Sarayu riverbanks were quite void of precious metals. At that moment, however, a very large royal chariot was parked there. Aboard that chariot was (surprise, surprise) Shatrughan, chin upon fist, contemplating the dim forest on the other side. Shrutakirti petted the horses tenderly, slipping them sweets when she thought her husband wasn't looking. 

 Bharat, fair-skinned and lightly dressed, sat under the shade of the very tree Hanuman had perched himself on. "Mandavi!" he called, to the princess who was knee-deep in the river. "Come back! Don't catch a disease right as Ram bhaiyya is about to return!"

 Mandavi spun around, spraying drops of water everywhere and dislocating at least ten innocent fish colonies. "When is Ram bhaiyya returning? Haven't the fourteen years passed?"

 Hanuman decided that this was the time to make his dhamaka entry. With a hiyah, he leapt off the branches and right in front of the royal family, offering a deep bow. "As a matter of fact madam, you're in luck. Shri Ram is on his return trip right now! In fact, as we speak, he'll be crossing the great seas on his flying chariot."

 The sun stopped rising.

 "Really?" Shatrughan cried, falling out of his trance (and also his chariot). Without a care for his muddy hands, he burst forth and grasped Hanuman. "Bhaiyya is coming back? He's coming back with Sita bhabhi and Lakshman? This very instant?"

 "Oh no," Shrutakirti realized, hand falling away from the horses. "The Maas wanted to have a grand return for them. They've barely set up a third of the festivities."

 Mandavi stomped out of the river, streaking dark footprints across the soil. "Well. Let's get into the chariot and high tail it back home, shall we? Can a horse-drawn chariot outrace whatever flying contraption Ram bhaiyya is in?"