It was midday. Even the sun felt the finality of it all, its rays immense and bright, encircling Lanka in a halo. So did the seas, which slowed their churning, and the vanar sena, who stood in perfect rank, hushed.
The Pushpak Viman had been summoned. It stood before them now, a chariot the size of a throne room, wide open with gilded wings attached to golden rims. Ram squeezed Sita's hand, and she squeezed back. She'd been abducted in this very chariot ten months ago, but didn't feel any fear or apprehension. When she was with Ram, she couldn't.
Lakshman, meanwhile, eyed it with some concern. While he was glad that they weren't crossing the stone bridge again (it looked a little worse for wear after ten months), could a vehicle of Ravan's be trusted? What if there was some curse placed upon it, and the moment they got high enough, the floors just opened up on them and they fell-
No. Nope. Not today, Lakshman.
Vibhishan, newly crowned and robed in bright colors, emerged from a swarm of his eager subjects. "Prabhu," he said, and Ram turned, smiling as always. "Are you truly leaving us?"
Lakshman frowned. Every minute they weren't on a route back to Kosala was a minute wasted. They had won the war. How was there still a flight delay? "Well, fourteen years have passed, so yeah-"
"Laksh," Ram chided, and Lakshman huffed. "Vibhishanji. We are not leaving you. But dharma has been restored to Lanka, and my wife has been restored to me. The universe should fall back into place. You must be at peace in your kingdom, and I must return to mine."
His gaze moved to Sugriv and the vanar sena. "Maharaj Sugriv. Your loyal citizens in Kishkindha await you eagerly. Ruma, your wife, must be aching to see you. The throne which you only had a few months upon is cold without you. Our homes are bare without us, my fellow men. We'll see each other again, certainly."
Vibhishan opened his mouth again, and Lakshman quickly interrupted what he predicted was a long, futile argument. "Vibhishan sahb," he said, squinting in the sunlight. "My brother will be crowned soon. You can visit then."
"Or now!" Hanuman cried. "We can join you now, on your return to Kosala. We, too, are your humble subjects, Shri Ram. Every empty throne will be filled once you sit upon yours. What kingdoms exist within your all-seeing gaze? What kings are there if Ayodhya's crown doesn't rest upon your head?"
The vanar sena echoed with a canyon of cheers, that the Earth almost caved in. "You are our home, Prabhu!" Neel cried. "We never feel homesick if we are near you! Please let us come with you. Our humble eyes long to see our savior crowned!"
"The Pushpak Viman adjusts sizes," Vibhishan added helpfully. "One size fits all type thing. Or one chariot all sizes. Or-"
"Shhh."
Ram looked at Sita, raising his eyebrows, and she nodded back. "Alright, then," he sighed at last, unable to conceal his smile. "If it is truly your wish, then I want to fulfill it." The gates of the Pushpak Viman swung open, and he grasped onto them. "All aboard!"
There was a stampede until Nal and Neel brought out a set of traffic lights and neon vests, and Angad issued tickets like a customs agent at the departure gate. Lakshman rolled his eyes, moving aside to let the army form a cohesive line and flood into the chariot. As they did so, he took a final look at Lanka, his residence for the past ten months. It was charming, if he could ignore the fact that he had almost died on its golden sands. "Goodbye, Lanka," he said, and exhaled.
"Laksh?" Ram's voice deepened. "Are you ready?"
"Yeah." He turned back around and climbed onto the Pushpak. "Yeah, I'm ready." He'd been ready to return the very second he left Ayodhya.
-----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?"
"No," Hanuman replied matter-of-factly, looking beyond Shatrughan's crazed expression. "But I can try my best to delay them, bhabhi, don't worry a bit."
Before he could take off again, Bharat grabbed his arm. "Pawanputra," he began, breathless. "You don't understand how indebted I-" He looked away, to where Mandavi and Shatrughan were dancing in circles, and Shrutakirti was trying to corral them into the chariot. "My whole family is, to you. It is you who brings us news of them. When, when Laksh was-"
"Bharat bhaiyya." Hanuman took his hand softly. "I hope I can call you brother. I live to aid Shri Ram and Maa Sita. You are his family, the brother whom he loves so much. My devotion extends to you as well. Your kindness is evident, even within your eyes, and this Hanuman exists to serve dharma." He collected himself again. "Now go!"
He gestured to the chariot, where Mandavi had finally taken the reins from a quivering Shatrughan, and was making wild beckons to Bharat. "Quickly! I can only hold them off for so long!"
-----O------
"You know, Angad, I feel like things are finally going my way," Nal sighed, taking off his crown. The three of them were gathered at the front of the chariot. "My sister is betrothed to my best friend. Lakshman bhaiyya has hugged me. The war is over. We are on our way to a lavish kingdom. And to top it all off, I am in a flying chariot with my hero!"
"You have a weird priority list," Angad said, patting Nal's back. "But yes, I do agree."
"I don't," Neel piped up nervously. "Being engaged to Jal is great and all, Nal, but something is bound to go wrong with all of us. Great stories, epics like this one, don't function so smoothly, do they? Even when we think the troubles are over, there will always be another lesson. A new rakshas army to take revenge. The world ending. My mother ambushing me, somehow, because I forgot to write letters." He shuddered. "Until we're in Ayodhya, I won't feel at ease."
"You and your stories. Stop being such a drama king or I'll break off your engagement with my sister," Nal snapped. "As the lone steward of this flight, I plan to make sure it is satisfying for all 1 crore passengers."
"What about turbulence? What if we have turbulence?" Neel protested.
"Turbulence?" Angad shrieked, incredulous. "This is an aeroplane which has Shri Ram as a customer. The turbulence wouldn't dare be turbulent in his presence!"
Before Neel could say anything else, Nal spun him around and pointed. "Look at Lakshman bhaiyya! Even he's staring into the horizon with some optimism for the future! We can't die so soon."
"Oh look. Is that Hanuman flying straight towards us with a tree?" Lakshman remarked, pointing as if anyone could miss the giant monkey with the giant tree on collision course with the Pushpak Viman.
"WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" Nal shrieked, grabbing Neel and shaking him.
"Hanuman! What are you doing?" Sugriv shouted, wrestling his way through the vanar sena to get to the helm of the ship. "You're about to send us into the oceans!"
"Prabhu, you've got to slow down!" Hanuman replied, slowing until he hovered in front of the Pushpak. "I've informed Bharat bhaiyya, but they still need some more time."
Ram frowned. "Is there a problem? Would Bharat prefer I not come back?" It was possible, of course. If Bharat wished it, he would happily return back to the forest. His brother's comfort was more important to him than any crown.
Before Lakshman could get too incensed at the notion, Hanuman shook his head hard enough to shake clouds out of their positions. "No, no Prabhu! He's overjoyed! But they need more time. You know, to make preparations for your return. They didn't know when you were planning to come back, so they haven't planned all the festivities yet."
"And that's why you were about to hit us with a banyan?" Lakshman asked skeptically. "Because they haven't prepared yet?" Angad was still trying to calm down a hyperventilating Vibhishan in the background.
Ram raised a hand and everyone fell silent. "Don't worry, Pawanputra. We'll slow down."
------O-------
Kaikeyi picked at the threads of her velvet bedsheets. She'd had fourteen years to think about it, but still didn't quite know what face to show her sons and daughter when they returned. Would they even want to look upon the woman who had given them so much pain, so much hardship?
What would she tell Ram, her dear, darling son? Ram, who as a child had picked her flowers with his soft little hands. Ram, who had called her Maa without hesitation. Ram, who touched her feet and asked for blessings so tenderly. Ram, who had deserved the throne more than anyone else in Ayodhya's history. Ram, who held Kosala in his heart but whom she had sent far beyond its borders. It must have been like ripping a banyan from the earth it nourished, and which nourished it in return.
And Sita, who deserved the most luxurious silks, being condemned to the adornments of the jungle? What of the queen, who had married into their dynasty with such hopes, only to face such evil?
"Kaikeyi," Kaushalya tugged her decimating hands away from the quilt. They were sisters, despite everything else. "You know Ram and Sita. They cannot look upon you with anything other than respect."
Really, Kaikeyi wasn't even so worried about Ram and Sita.
She was worried about Sumitranandan Lakshman.
Sumitra seemed to understand this at least, but she didn't offer any reassurance like Kaushalya had. She knew that what promised heavenly joy for them, was also Kaikeyi's greatest source of dread. Lakshman's temper was something else entirely.
"Fourteen years have passed," she sighed instead. "I wonder when they'll finally return."
Crash! They looked up. Mandavi burst through the main doors of the palace and knocked over at least six servants on her way to the queen mother's chambers. "Maa! Maa! Maa! They're on their way back!"
The chandelier's rattled with the force of her shouts, and the servants she had knocked over bounced back to their feet like rubber balls. Kaushalya's hand flew to her mouth. "My sons? My daughter? Mandavi, are you-"
Mandavi was in no mood for time-wasting dialogue. She dove onto the bed and took Kaushalya's hands into her own. "No, I'm not joking. They're coming back, they're coming back! They're above the oceans right now, actually, so we'd better hurry up before they return to a bare, sad, depressed, dead-looking city."
Sumitra pinched Kaikeyi. "Kaikeyi. Di, did you hear her? We have to decorate."
Ah. Decorations and festivities. Kaikeyi knew these things best. "Congregate the servants!"
------O-----
Urmila had always known. Still, it was a bit of a shock to watch the hundreds of palace workers all assemble in the courtyard like a small, bubbling army. She stood near the pillars and watched the three queens line up in front of them like decorated generals.
"Yuvraj Ram is returning!" Kaikeyi called, still as commanding when she rescued Maharaj Dasharath from the clutches of death.
The servants didn't need more instruction. They dissolved into eager clamor, stretching out until they pressed against the courtyard walls.
Kaikeyi's voice triumphed over them like the blaring of victorious trumpets. "Decorate the halls with Sita's favorite colors! Put roses and bright flowers everywhere! Plate all the fruits you can find! String up decorations and alert all of the mithai walas! Our soon-to-be queen will walk upon Kosala's lands with her blessed feet. No pace of earth should be uncarpeted!"
Urmila's hands wrapped over the balcony railings, and her face creased. What about...
"Oh!" Kaushalya threw a hand forward, and everyone stilled. "Rajkumar Lakshman's laddoos!"
Sumitra's smile was effervescent. "Dismissed!"
-----O-----
Kosala heard the news from Sumant. The dying floated off their deathbeds. Men and women were tugged away from their blooming fields, and all the crying children fell silent.
Shrutakirti watched her people gather from her balcony, lines of farmers and merchants casting off their plain kurtas and clothing themselves in bright pink and red. The sun was the sliver of something great over the rolling hills. Behind them were the forests, and behind those were the seas from where they would emerge. "Shatru," she said, suddenly hit with something.
Shatrughan had taken his crown off and handed it back to the courtiers. His head felt lighter than a swan's feather, young and blissful. Tears beaded between his shut eyes, and he rested them in his hands, so calloused from fourteen years. "Kirti?" he whispered.
"Shatru, what if they return at nighttime?"
He huffed, the solution obvious. "Lamps. Just tell them to light lamps."
A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR! #Mochipostslate I'd promised to update one more time in 2023, but it's 2024 now, what can you do? Hopefully this means many more updates this year. Or maybe it means Mochi will be able to keep none of her promises.
Dec. 29 was the 3 year anniversary of this book. So...that's pretty crazy.
And thus commences Deepavali celebrations! We're getting really close to the end, aren't we? I know my plans for at least 3 more chapters, so that's there. I'm thinking more on Bharat and Shatru for sure. There were so many characters and filler dhapters that now it feels like the end is being rushed. I will try for a satisfying conclusion to the best of my ability tho.
Any final requests? We're coming to a close now. Not sure what note I want to end this book on, but I've got a title for the final chapters, so like Neel, the author has a wack sense of priorities.