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.
The quickness of her eyes. The bells on her feet. The chandelier that she liked to pull, just to hear the music of the diamonds that hung off of it. And the cool shade of the palace roofs! He had never been much for luxury (not when bhaiyya was right here) but he wouldn't mind finding a random palace somewhere in the middle of this desert. Oh, the heat.
"The heat," Jambavan sighed, fanning himself with a large palm leaf. "I could withstand it as long as the war captured my attention. It's unbearable now. All I can think of is a nice cooling spring or stream and maybe some fish and a nice bed in Kishkindha." He lay down in the sand and stared into the sky. "The sun seems to have expanded. Doesn't Lanka have anything that's not gold? Maybe something green, like a forest? I'd love a forest right now."
"Green Gold!" Angad boomed in his best TV show voice. "Chhota Bheem could have helped us right now." He winked at the camera. "Watch on Pogo today." Then he got tackled by Lakshman for comparing Chhota Bheem to his bhaiyya in such serious times (or any time in general, Lakshman didn't tolerate comparisons. Bhaiyya was one of a kind.).
Amidst all the television promotions and rugby tackles and wistful yearning for wives in more than one brother, Sugriv seemed to have spotted something. "Look!" he cried, jumping up and down as kingly(ly) as he could. "Look at the sun!"
"Actually, the correct proverb is don't look at the sun, but nice try Maharaj." Nal pointed out wisely. "My Maa always told me never to look at the sun, since I'll become blind. My Maa's orders are the eternal truth." He glanced at Ram uneasily, trying to ignore Lakshman's glare. "Yours too, Prabhu, don't worry."
They all quickly disobeyed their mothers when Hanuman came bursting out of the sky. He was a small speck (but they had figured out how to recognize Hanuman in his speck form by now). Yes, it was Hanuman no doubt, with his massive frame and signature tail and shining hair and love for Shri Ram bursting from his eyes (whatever that looked like).
And on his shoulder an orange figure. The same orange that Prabhu and Lakshman had been wearing the entire battle.
Lakshman stepped forward. Closer and closer. His eyes stung from the sunlight beaming into them, but he couldn't drag them away. Now that his bhabhi was back, he wouldn't let her out of his sight until they left this wretched Lanka. He bit the inside of his cheek, bouncing on his heels in anticipation. What was Hanuman doing, flying so slowly?
It had been many months since he last saw her. If only he hadn't left her in the first place-but no, everything was okay now. After all the suffering, Sita bhabhi was finally back. Fourteen years had passed. And even better! Instead of taking her back to their old hut in Dandakaranya, they could venture back to Ayodhya.
Now, if only she could touch down already so bhaiyya could lose the two wrinkles that seemed permanently bridged between his forehead. So that bhaiyya could finally shed the sadness in his eyes. Lakshman didn't quite know what sadness looked like in one's eyes (Bharat bhaiyya just used the line a lot in his writing) but he figured that if anyone had it, it was Ram bhaiyya.
He glanced at him, but couldn't discern the expression on his face.
Hanuman was nearing. Near enough that after many eternities, Ram could see the shining black sheath of hair flowing behind her. Ram dreamed of touching it. He dreamed of running his hands through it and hugging her tightly and crying into it and saying that it was all over. For now, he simply swallowed and watched, his heart rolling around in his chest.
The vanar sena was silent in awe. Lakshman was still trying to discern Ram's emotions. Hanuman still flew. Ram voiced all of their thoughts. "Sita," he whispered, as if she was the moon dissolving into a thousand stars or the sky falling down to blanket the Earth.
She was.
-----O-----
Sita couldn't even feel nauseated when Hanuman carried her so high that she could barely see the ground through the thick cover of clouds; she was already barely able to believe it. Was it a dream, like the thousands before? She pinched herself again and determined that no, it was not.
It felt like one. The sun was shining on the clouds so that they sparkled like gold. She had never wanted for money, but this she could accept.
Then, Hanuman began to descend from the sky. Sita felt her pallu fall down and wrapped it around herself when the breeze cut cold streaks across her body. Still, the warmth that flushed across her skin was too overpowering to be stopped by some stupid wind. She was ready, practically vibrating with excitement.
Sure, she had seen Ram every second of every hour of every day, but that was in her thoughts. Nothing could compare to beholding her lord in material presence.
Her mind couldn't mimic the warmth of his smile or the perfect curls of his hair or the way the his dark skin glowed in the sun. Sita closed her eyes and bid the Ram that had resided in her mind for eleven months a very ecstatic goodbye. She would never see him again, and she was glad for it.
When she opened her eyes, she was on the other side of Lanka.
And what a nice place it was! Since she was actively being kidnapped, Sita wasn't able to properly appreciate the golden sands or arching palm trees of Lanka the first time she saw them. But eleven months, one great war, and a lot more appreciation for #archingtrees later, she found that Lanka's sparkling beaches were stunning.
The vanar sena was even more so. Lakhs of them, more than she could ever perceive, stood at attention, dotting the yellow ground like jewels. Sita felt an explosive love blossoming in her heart, enough to want to jump off of Hanuman's shoulders and embrace each one of them. They had helped her Ram and stood behind him as loyally as Ayodhya's army would have. Sure, there were thousands, but each was his own person (monkey). They must have each wielded a weapon and risked their life for her husband. For her.
So she'd better hold off on jumping off lest their sacrifice be diminished by a crazy woman wanting to go skydiving.
Still, her eyes searched the crowds until she found them, because she could never be completely at ease without seeing him at last.
She locked into place two men set apart from the rest. They were as small as ants from her position in the sky, but nothing could obscure their brilliance. "Oh Ram," she whispered, placing a hand to her lips. "And Laksh."
She couldn't see Lakshman's face, but somehow, she could see Ram's shining lotus eyes staring back at her. The man who had crossed the untamable oceans and foraged through forests and single handedly slain a rakshas whom even the devas feared. And there was his shining skin and curly hair flying behind him.
She couldn't quite see his smile yet, but was certain that it was only a matter of kilometres before that too was visible to her hungry eyes.
All of a sudden, Sita, who had everlasting patience for so many months, couldn't wait even a minute more. "Hanuman!" she cried. "Please speed up! I've got to see my Ram at once!"
Hanuman, who hadn't been sure of the side effects that interstellar travel might have on a lady like Sita, had been going purposefully slow. But, at this point, even he was getting impatient to see the big reunion, because sue him, he was a hopeless romantic sometimes. "Of course, Mata!" He boomed, and before Sita could properly fasten her seatbelt, he crashed into the Earth in excitement.
-----O------
"Why on Earth are they going so slow?" Lakshman muttered, squinting in the sunlight. "They've been in the same position for, like, hours."
Ram smiled, slapping Lakshman's shoulder. "That's what I was thinking when you were injured and we all had to wait for Hanuman. This feels even longer, though. But I'm sure Hanuman's flying as fast as possible." He swallowed, looking at the vanar and the faint silhouette he could see of Sita. Oh, the longing he felt. He just wanted to reach out and touch her with his long arms. But when he looked at them approaching, he couldn't bear to smile. Not when he knew what he had to do.
So Ram settled with looking at Lakshman, whom he could always smile at. He was so preoccupied with looking at his brother looking at Hanuman, in fact, that he almost didn't notice Hanuman suddenly speeding up and creating a large crater in the ground as he crashed.
Lakshman jumped back in surprise, before glancing at Ram, who managed to stand completely still and not be knocked over by the way the ground shook despite not seeing the impact at all. "Bhaiyya, how did you not-" he began, before shrugging it off. He figured if Ram couldn't be shaken by Ravan, then a monkey-meteorite was just about the daily norm.
Then, he whirled his head around. "Wait, Sita bhabhi! Is she alright?" He began to run towards the sight of impact before being grabbed around the middle by Ram's long arms and reined back in.
"They're alright," he swallowed. "Hanuman must have just been a little eager. Sita had to be fine. He could feel it. He was no longer disillusioned like he'd been in the forest. She was fine. He just needed the courage to do what was right.
Hanuman's humongous figure slowly stood up, brushing himself off, before lifting his charge off his shoulders and gently letting her down onto the ground.
The dust cleared. The sky settled. Sita stared into the eyes of her husband and beamed. Ram looked back, drinking her sight in.
A flower necklace around her shoulders that he remembered threading her so many months ago, kept alive and unwilted by some heavenly blessing. His ring, threaded with a piece of grass around her neck. He could imagine her, reaching up with her thin fingers and rubbing at the stone at the center of the band of gold. Of course she would, because he could barely let go of her hairpiece, still stored in the folds of his dhoti.
Stray strands of her brown hair curling around her neck, still dancing in the wind. The hems of her sari thinning out from how much she must have picked at them, because of course she did, she always had that habit, only Ram had never thought it would hit him like this.
Not even the most dedicated woman at the largest loom could fix that sari. Eleven months of worrying, and a thousand frayed strands to show for it. It made him worry more. But what could there be to fear?
Their love wasn't like that, couldn't slowly wear away and turn threadbare with the passage of time, held together by a few thinning strands. Ram swallowed, unable to look away from her eyes. Sita, Sita, Sita. Everything depended on what he did next.
Her patience might have been able to withstand eleven months of ongoing await, but would it survive one sudden action?
If he flew over right this instant to hug her, he wouldn't be able to do it. The moment she was in his arms, it would be impossible to even comprehend it. But it had to be done. He had to do it. Because if he didn't, then thoughts would unfurl in the darkness of people's minds.
And ugly thoughts, unlike beautiful ones, always found their way to their master's tongues.
People would talk. Their talk would turn into belief. Their belief would turn into hatred.
He wouldn't allow the center of his universe to be exiled again.
Sita wasn't, in any form of the word, weak. She would understand him. She had to understand him. Ram couldn't think of any other way. Maybe he could if he tried. But he didn't have time to try anymore.
All these months, all he could think of was Sita. He never thought of what happened after. He had time, of course he had time. But his love for her was simply too great for him to think of anything else when she wasn't in his sight.
Well, now she was right there, and he still couldn't comprehend anything beyond her. The thought of Sita was divine, but to see her, standing right there? Incomparable.
Ram swallowed, hoping she could understand, as always, his thoughts from his eyes. Eleven months, their eyes hadn't met. He only hoped that she hadn't forgotten how to discern them.
He clenched his fist. Unclenched. He felt certainty, new certainty, inside of himself. They would win, ultimately. Dharma would win. Then, it was all over.
"Devi Sita," he began, voice as untrembling as he could muster anymore. "It is not possible for me to accept you into my direct shelter anymore."
-----O-----
Lakshman felt sick to his stomach. From what he could see of the rest of the vanar sena, he suspected his stomach illness might have been contagious. He never thought he would hear his brother's voice as cold as it was right now. Directed at Sita bhabhi? Impossible. "Bhaiyya," he wanted to whisper. "What are you doing?"
But Lakshman found, that for once in his life, he wasn't able to channel his emotions into words. He was rendered speechless. Even Hanuman had suddenly shrunk back to his original size from the shock, face turning pale.
Sita stared at Ram, eyes large. "Ram?" she began. "What are you talking about?"
Ram cleared his throat, and if Lakshman hadn't been so focused on the tears trailing down his bhabhi's face, he would have noticed the muscle in his neck tighten even more. "I cannot take you back into my shelter, Devi. You have spent eleven months in the abode of the demon king Ravan."
------O------
Ravan. That stupid Ravan. How was he still affecting their lives like this even after his death? Ram bhaiyya may have been able to find some level of respect for the king and army leader, but Lakshman found himself unable to. He watched Sita bhabhi swallow disbelievingly for a second. Then, she drew herself up.
"So it's my devotion and purity that you doubt then, oh Raghuvansh?" she asked, her tone withering. Ram stared back at her. The silence was deafening, and Lakshman was almost afraid to interrupt it. There was some conversation between their gazes, both cold and reserved. Lakshman wanted to get between them, but he wasn't sure if even he could withstand their chilly eyes on him, so foreign.
"You must know that every second of every minute, all I could think of was you. I don't remember the ugliest feature on Ravan's face because all of his traits were masked by the beauty of yours. The moment I first saw you, I eternally belonged to you. No one could have even drawn my gaze away from you, forget get close enough to touch me."
They're supposed to be words of love, but all Lakshman could hear was betrayal. He was especially partial against people who can hurt his bhabhi this way, except the person is bhaiyya.
When Ram remained silent, Sita exhaled. "I see, Raghunandan. I will not seek shelter in any of your friends, and could never do that to your brother." Lakshman swallowed, eyes widening when he realized that he too could have been an option. His hands began to tremble. His reality was crumbling in front of him.
But if not them, then who? If not here, then where?
"I have made it very clear that you are the man whom I love. There can be no other. If you, who has claimed to love me with every fiber of his great being, can doubt me, then there is no place for me to go." The army watched, with bated breath.
"Agni Pariksha."
And if Lakshman thought he could be never more stunned than when he heard those two words, it was the next sentence that forever destroyed his faith.
"Lakshman. Bring some firewood."
If there were any words to snap him out of his wordless daze, they were it. "Bhabhi?" he cried. She stared back at him, and Lakshman quickly glanced away.
"Bhaiyya?" he asked, equally incredulous. Ram wouldn't even look at him. His eyes were already taken with his wife. Lakshman inhaled deeply, ready to unleash a string of words highlighting how stupid all of this was.
"It has been six months of war, eleven months of waiting!"
He can't say anything else. He can't find the words to express the feeling bubbling inside of him. Lakshman had never been a poet. He wished Bharat was here right now, because he could apparently read him better than his own Ram bhaiyya. Bharat could understand what Lakshman felt right now. Shatrughan could put the proper rage that he couldn't muster against his brother and bhabhi.
Oh, the luxuries of long abandoned Ayodhya. How they would have helped him.
"Bhaiyya!" he said, voice quieter now. "What are you doing? Tell her that this isn't necessary!" Ram looked at him. He started panicking.
"Fine, if you won't tell her, then I will! She's my Maa too. Bhabhi, this isn't necessary! Please, please just come here." Sita didn't move, and he got more desperate. "Bhabhi, why are you so far away? Please, come here."
Sita said one thing. "Please. Get the firewood, Lakshman." She might as well have taken shelter under Lakshman, accepting his protection like a mother would her son. Her tone wasn't sharp, but her words stung him nonetheless.
"Bhaiyya?" he whispered. "Bhabhi?" There was a silence. No one dared make a sound. He waited, they all waited for Shri Ram and Maa Sita to say something.
There was nothing. Lakshman snapped his mouth shut. Then, he straightened his shoulders. "Alright, then."
He had never said angrier words in his life.
Eleven months filled with floods of tears, and yet still their fate was to be drowned in fire.
A/N: Lakshman doesn't deserve this sadness. The mobs are coming for me.
SORRY. I didn't mean to take so long with publishing. I had to divide the Agni Pariksha thing into 2 parts, but it will be done by the next chapter and then everything can be happy and wonderful again.