Satataharitam - Short Stories On Narayana

Illusions

Amidst the blowing of cool winds and a slight drizzle spraying some rainwater into his room through the window, Shatrughna sat in near complete darkness. His wife was fast asleep, it was a few hours past midnight and she was doing what was normal at that hour.

Shatrughna was seated on his chair in from the the mirror, where he often put on his jewellery and everything. All the lights were out apart from a couple of oil lamps near the mirror. He stared right at the dark image he saw of himself in the full size mirror.

He found himself slouching, very unlike his usually upright posture. He noticed that his jaws were clenched tightly, that there were creases on his forehead that only seemed more evident in the light coming from one specific direction. His eyes reflected the orangish light, but not very brightly. He thought Bharata would love the lighting for some modelling so he could paint.

He relaxed his creased forehead and tried to maintain a neutral expression. He straightened his back and rolled his shoulders backwards. He was disgusted at his own posture which had been so bad, he was confident his elder brothers would've scolded him for it. 

But none of that mattered, because the light that reflected off his face and created an image on the mirror broke his heart. An image that was only virtual, one that could never be captured anywhere but in the fantasies of his mind. The image that looked like a whole human, a human that lived and breathed, but couldn't be touched or spoken to. It was but an illusion.

The face he saw in the mirror no longer belonged to him. His reflection reminded him only and only of his brother, his twin, and he felt like he was being strangled every single time just by the air that surrounded him.

It was ridiculous. They shouldn't have been twins. They shouldn't have been so identical. And most importantly, he shouldn't have been this hurt to be sharing his appearance with him in his absence.

He seemed to hate his own face. It was impossible for him to get dressed every morning, while looking at his reflection. He had stopped looking at the mirror altogether. He couldn't possibly imagine the torture of seeing his twin's face in his image everyday, and having to hold himself together.

He was known to love Bharata more than anyone else. He also did express his love for Rama fairly often. But with Lakshmana, he only seemed to realise how attached he was to him, when he was gone.

There had been innumerable instances of Shatrughna seeing something funny in the past couple of years and accidentally calling out to his twin. He would realise instantly and the smile would be wiped off his face for the next many hours.

He closed his eyes to throw his reflection out of his sight, but he was an imaginative man. His mind played wonderful games, and the one most essential distinguishing factor between Lakshmana and Shatrughna, the voices, played on loop in his mind.

Shatrughna didn't know if he preferred the familiar image of his face that he knew he couldn't get rid of, because he shared it with him. Or did be think it was easier to handle the voice? He possibly did prefer the face, because at least it didn't speak directly to him.

He opened his eyes and relaxed his clenched jaw, and instantly, somehow, he looked different. He looked more like himself than like his twin.

His curiosity was sparked, and he tried to make the signature Lakshmana expression again, as opposed to his own. Slightly serious, brows just slightly furrowed so he looked extra alert all the time, without much of a smile on his face.

He let himself chuckle, shaking his head, and instantly realised why he was looking even more like his twin those days. Since the tragedy of his Rama being sent to the forest, Shatrughna had definitely not smiled and laughed like he was meant to. He had taken on an expression similar to that of his twin's.

He tried to smile and captured the image of his face in the mirror. It looked more like him, but it hurt to smile when his heart was shattered.

He wondered if he should wallow in his pain and stare at the mirror with an expression of anger, and hate his twin for leaving him when they shared a face. How was he supposed to live when his own face reminded him of Lakshmana every moment? He wanted to give his brother one hard slap on the head. Or, he wanted to tell him he loved him, even if they both wanted to live in a burrow after that moment because of embarrassment. But the truth was, he loved him and he missed him more than he'd have ever thought.

He wondered if he should pretend to smile so he at least stopped looking so much like his twin. He thought that was a better idea. He would try to be more like himself, and perhaps that would distinguish him from his twin in his own mind.

The winds suddenly grew stronger and put out the remaining lights too.

Shatrughna stood up with a sigh and pulled the curtain to hide the mirror behind it. He didn't know what he preferred, but he knew it was best not to let an illusion of a person behind a piece of glass dictate anything at all.

×××××

A/N: That's fairly short. But it's interesting. Been on my mind for a long time.

I know we could say they weren't identical twins and everything but I'm really taking some liberty here. I was reading random stuff about how awfully affected people are when separated from their twin due to whatever reason and how it takes then ages to recover or they never recover at all. It was interesting and obviously my mind instantly came to the Soumitris.

The thing is, if they're identical, he probably start hating things because he looks exactly like the brother who isn't around. He can't stand that thought. Every time he looks into the mirror, he's disgusted.

This chapter has a very interesting vibe to it because of how I seem to have ended it. I don't know why. There's no resolution to the conflict of his mind. Then again, a lot of my chapters just end with 100% angst, 0% resolution which is making me go OUCH sometimes at the stuff I'm writing myself. May Rama save me by giving me my brain.

Nevertheless, this was enjoyable because it's been an idea for a long time.

Also also, I've an absolutely unreal angst thing I'm writing. The thing is, I'm feeling unreal pain as I try to out it down. I don't know if I'll capture that enough so you feel it too. But it's a Krishna-Balarama one and it may or may not be an OS or a series of smaller parts (perhaps only a two or three part series).

I was thinking I should use my other book Sankarshana as an OS book of Balarama themed stuff (as Aaru suggested long back, thanks trikaldarshi 😭) despite having abandoned it for a year. If not for anything else, just because of how lovingly Mochu made a cover for it in express speed and how people have been asking for updates in it 😭

So would you want the chapter (if I manage to write it well enough to satisfy myself only) of Krishna Balarama angst in that book or this one? I ask because I actually don't know what I prefer 🙏😭

Anyhow. The heat is killing. Summer couldn't have been worse. This is so irrelevant but I cannot believe it's this hot. Okay.

Thank you so much for reading! Byeeebdjshsjndabdj! 💖😭😁