Satataharitam - Short Stories On Narayana

Philosophy with Laksh

"What does that mean?"

Lakshmana shrugged. "The spear went right through. Don't you know what that means?"

Bharata shook his head. "No, I mean, how didn't you dodge it? By which I mean, even if you couldn't counter it, you could've moved away if it was not for you. Unless you were worried about the universal harm it would cause?"

"Not quite. I wasn't thinking much at all." Lakshmana smiled a little. "Never told Ram Bhaiya this, but the last active decision I made before I got attacked was to try and save Vibhishana. It had been a long day in the battlefield, and I was tired. My reflexes weren't at their best, not even close. Plus I didn't think that much at all."

Bharata raised his brows. "And why did you have to mention that you didn't tell Bhaiya?"

"I don't think I really told anything to Bhaiya about this incident. I've never seen him as affected by something as I did that day. So it was never brought up as a topic of discussion."

"Oh," Bharata tried not to smile. "Tell me more then?" It was not often that Lakshmana shared something he hadn't even told Rama.

"Bhaiya has been more hurt than I ever was. To me, it was actually more like a moment of peace after months, no, years of horrifying pai-" Lakshmana caught himself unravelling some of his deepest feelings almost unknowingly. He looked up at Bharata.

Bharata smiled at him, not visibly, but just to tell him of the comfort he was offering him. He nodded slightly, as if to day he understood.

Lakshmana sometimes wondered why him and Bharata kept bickering and fighting over stupid things in casual conversations and this was one such moment. There was a much deeper relationship they shared, possibly without even realising it themselves. A bond of silent understanding, of no words but just gestures and glances.

"I'm not going to freak out at the thought or your feelings about death that day, Laksh." Bharata said softly. Rama, on the other hand, was more worried that way. He couldn't stand the thought, and he was justified in his fear.

"I can't even describe how calm it was. Like I was in an ocean, some divine ocean, floating atop it. Doing what I love. But, I don't know what that was. What was I doing? I don't know. But there was nothing as peaceful as that."

Bharata put one leg on another and looked up at the night sky, musing. "Was it really death that you were faced with?"

Lakshmana leaned back against the wall. "It almost felt like I was faced with the wildest dream and the purest reality at the same moment."

"Were you afraid?"

Lakshmana shook his head. "No, there was nothing to fear." He turned towards Bharata and sat cross-legged. "See, let me explain. What I saw was like an image of the sky, filled with a lot of heavy, grey clouds. Not the ominous kind. The kind that relieves you when all you've seen for a long time is the harsh sunlight."

"Did an image of grey clouds relieve you so much?" Lakshmana responded by narrowing his eyes. Bharata shrugged. "No, I'm curious! How does that work?"

Lakshmana smiled slightly. "I've one theory. Guess who it revolves around?"

"The one and only, Bhaiya." He thought for a second. "Oh! All the poetic descriptions of him, Shyamalagatra, Meghavarna, yes, yes!"

"See, I'm making sense here, am I not?"

Bharata laughed. "Never thought you'd make sense in the philosophical field but look where we are today!"

"You know another really cool thing?"