The 4th Widow of AyodhyA-Part 3 of 8

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THE FOURTH WIDOW OF AYODHYA (continued)

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By strange, mysterious coincidence unknown to Rama, his brother Lakshmana,

too, at the very instant was similarly reminiscing his boyhood years in

their father's palace and those happy moments Rama and he'd spent swimming

in the choppy Sarayu during bitterly cold "dhanur" months.

 

The "dhanur" month was when the common folk of AyodhyA rushed to the banks

of the Sarayu much earlier than they usually did at other times of the year

for their pre-dawn ritual bath. Then followed day-long rites, penances,

"nOnbu-s" and fasts which the holy "sastrA-s" especially mandated be

observed during the sacred month of "mArga-sIrsa". The women-folk of

AyOdhyA, young nubile maidens, mothers and grand-ladies, were especially the

first ones to flock the river- banks (so they could finish their ablutions

well before the men arrived there for their own "anUshTAnam-s") almost as

soon as the last vestige of the previous night had disappeared and just as

soon as early birds were climbing out of their nesting places, chirping and

cooing, to herald the birth of another fresh day.

 

The palace protocol of AyodhyA forbade young members of the royal family to

be seen too freely or frequently in public congregations of the common-weal.

(The Queen Kausalya was known to endlessly worry about "evil eyes" and

spells being cast on her handsome princelings! And Rama, who loved mixing

with plebeians, Lakshmana remembered, never tired of arguing with her that

the commoner of AyodhyA would pluck his eyes out first with his own hands

before casting "evil-eyes" on his beloved Rama!!) The only time protocol had

been relaxed was for the "ritual-bath" during the month of "dhanur".

 

Rama and he, Lakshmana recalled, used to be thrilled with the month-long

suspension of stuffy palace-protocol. It was the only time of the year which

provided them the many outlets for fun and indulgence pre-teen boys like

themselves craved!

 

They'd both wake up a full hour-and-half earlier than even AyodhyA's

women-folk did in those cold "dhanur" months! Then they'd both rush

forthwith from the palace straight to the Sarayu banks, take in the sights

and savour the joy, the beauty of "bramha-mUhurtam" --- those rare, precious

and serene moments before day-break! They'd wallowed and splashed about in

the pure and bracing waters of the Sarayu all by themselves ....enjoying to

their hearts content the experience of being unshackled from the strict

codes of regimen the great Raghuvamsha- palace otherwise imposed on

princelings !

 

By the time the first of milling crowds of commoners from the city of

AyOdhyA reached the bathing-sites by the river-side, the royal siblings

already'd had their fill of a ritual-bath.

 

Some "ritual-bath", indeed ! It'd been a bath, Lakshmana recalled with

amusement, with so little of "ritual" and so much more of pure and simple

fun .. frolic...and unbounded boyish glee !

 

But now, the Rama who lay before him, is he the same exuberant lad of those

happy days ? ... Lakshmana was thinking ... is he the same Rama ? ...who now

lay before him across the camp-site... sprawled on the bare, cold grass in

the wildnerness of Dandakaranya.... shivering beneath a quilt made of a

"rakshAsa's" hide ?

 

Is it the same Crown Prince of AyodhyA who'd sported with him in the cool

waters of the Sarayu in the carefree days of youth ?

 

Alas, no .... not anymore... it was definitely not the same Rama of yore !

The Rama who now rested before him was a completely different

person....Lakshmana thought. His brother was virtually unrecognizable .....

it was simply impossible to say he resembled the old Rama ....

 

This Rama now lying before him was a "dharmic" giant of such proportions

that left men's imaginations utterly boggled! The playful brother of his had

somehow turned over the years into a many-splendoured creature of magnificence !

 

Rama's life, since the days spent swimming the Sarayu-rapids, had all been

nothing but one long unceasing and awesome record of human rectitude and

righteousness ... which seemed inhuman sometimes .... and always ....godly ..

 

This Rama who lay before him in the middle of a jungle.... a Prince... who'd

thrown away a kingdom, without a moment's hesitation, for the sake of a

father's misplaced sense of honour....!

 

This Rama who lay shivering before him in the middle of a jungle... under a

deer-skin rag .... had been able to look Kaikeyi, his step-mother, in the

eye and forgive her wholeheartedly for the perfidy she'd heaped on him .... !!

 

This Rama, the first-born scion of the IkshvAku-s, who pretended to be

sleeping soundly ...lying amongst the bushes like some savage of the jungle

.... this "savage" had firmly refused a Kingdom again when it was sought to

be returned to him on a platter ... refused on a matter of some high and

"dharmi-c" principle again !!!

 

Lakshmana abruptly realized, with a mixed sense of wonder and absurdity,

that after all the years, he'd yet to understand the essence of this man ...

of this brother... the Lord of AyodhyA ...who once'd been a bonny good

Prince who liked nothing better than a "jala-kreeda" in the Sarayu in the

days of old .....

 

Who was this Rama ? What really was he ? .... Lakshmana found himself asking.

 

He'd heard some people secretly say Rama was a fool ! A royal fool ! A fool

who held a mysterious abstraction called "dharma" to be dearer than the cold

reality of self-interest! A pure, good-hearted creature of "krta-yuga"

tragically trapped in the moral morass of the present "trEta-yuga" ! A moral

anachronism ! A misfit in the royal house of the "IkshvAku-s", one who

embraces scruples when he ought to be showing the ruthlessness of a master

statecraftsman ! A wimp! A lamb of a man that sought to hide the meekness of

its will through what it believed was a roaring bleat of high-sounding morals !

 

Lakshmana'd overheard all those muffled taunts being thrown behind his

brother's back by many people ---- subjects, common-folk, pandits ... why,

by Sage Jabali even, who'd hinted as much, and more, when he came

accompanying Bharatha to parley with and persuade Rama to return to the

kingdom ....

 

Lakshmana'd heard all those sneers ...and sometimes caught himself sneakily

wondering if they weren't right after all !

 

If Rama hadn't been all that they jeeringly said he indeed was... then

perhaps the Raghuvamsha family could have escaped the tragedy and ignominy

that'd befallen it, couldn't it ?

 

If only Rama had remained firm in his resolve to ascend the throne of

Ayodhya .... everything would've been in its place, after all, wouldn't it !

 

Sita would've now been gracing the Court of AyodhyA ? Instead she was now a

pathetic hostage held, perhaps, in some dank dungeon deep in some Lankan

fortress.

 

And he, Lakshmana, wouldn't be sitting here in the middle of a jungle on a

cold "dhanur" morning... stoking smoke out of a belching camp-fire fuelled

by the damp twigs he'd foraged on the banks of the Godavari ..... far away

from home....so far from the sweet waters of the blessed Sarayu ?

 

Perhaps Rama was, indeed, a royal fool !

 

But then Lakshmana asked himself :

 

Why'd he felt so compelled to follow Rama, the fool, into exile ?

Why'd dear Sita followed her husband if he was nothing but a fool?

Why'd the people of Ayodhya, en masse, pursued and begged him not to leave them?

Why'd Guha, the jungle-aborigine, opened his hearth and heart to him ?

Why'd poor Bharatha beseeched, again and again, for his return to Ayodhya?

And yet had left quite happily, almost empty-handed, with nothing but Rama's

pair of sandals to serve as a surrogate presence ?

Why'd Sage Jabali trembled like a thoroughly admonished school-boy when Rama

cut short his clever-sounding but "a-sAstrA-ic" diatribe and, in return, had

himself delivered a withering but sterling discourse on what true "dharma" was ?

Why'd Sage AgastyA or Lady Anusuya showered him with their overwhelming love

and kindness?

Why'd the venerable Sage Bharadwaja shown them so much solicitude ?

Why'd the grand old lady of the forest, Sabari, why'd she waited so many

long years just to have him visit her humble hut, and partake of her paltry

hospitality, before she gave up the ghost ?

Why'd a decrepit bird, Jatayu, chosen to give its life for him ?

 

Why ?.... Why indeed ?

 

Why did all those people do all that they did ... for a moral anachronism of

the 'trEta-yuga' .... named Rama ?

 

Lakshmana knew he simply had no answers to such questions!

 

He continued staring at the inert figure of Rama as it lay in the darkness

of the jungle ---- a figure that never ceased to inspire awe in him ... awe,

attraction, fear, respect, devotion, humility, love .... all of them ...a

mix of feelings in him which he'd never been able to fully measure ....

since they were all feelings that ran deep, strong and silent .... like the

placid waters of the River Godavari ...as she swiftly meandered through the

dense, green groves that ringed the camp-site .....

------

 

(to be continued)

 

sudarshan