FORGOTTEN TALES…(1st POST)

                  

Silence… eerie silence…dead silence…

Only silence echoed through the great castle…through the halls…kitchens…the royal throne room…the divine temples of Surya and Shiv…

The sigil of the kingdom…a golden sun…fluttered dully on the great flags outside the city gates.

Even the huge statues of the legendry Suryavanshis were standing silently; just meager spectators of the doom that had come to their dynasty, their kingdom and the city of Ayodhya… the kingdom which was considered the most powerful in the realm…even considered by many of that time as the kingdom of God himself…undefeated, unconquered… by anyone in the universe…was in a state of turmoil just because of a WASHERMAN…a foolish…idiot washer man…!!! 

The city had waited for a long time for the happiness…peace…and the prosperity that it righteously deserved… the people had waited and prayed for the return of their beloved prince… Who was the rightful heir of the Suryavansh…

OH…how happy the day of his return was!

People danced and wept with joy, they sang and laughed, men and women, old and young, child or father everyone alike…the celebration of that moonless night which was transformed into the festival of lights;  when their prince and the true heir of Ayodhya returned… it left such a mark that it continued for generations to come…

But little did the simple residents of Ayodhya knew that these days of happiness were numbered… the disgusting doubts and the remarks of some fools about the queen who was sacred and pious as the fire itself had led to this night of gloom and misery…

Many considered it to be the curse of many mothers and wives who lost their sons and husbands in the epic battle which was fought a few months back in an island across the great sea in the southern direction…. 

Hardly anyone was asleep that night, everyone was awake…yet silent…wondering about the upcoming fate…cursing the gods…

All three royal mothers, the Gurus…the ministers…the warriors…maidens, servants…, the sisters of the queen…everyone lay awake…in agony and in Rage but no one could raise a voice against the judgment given by the king….how could be the great  Maryada-purshottam  be wrong…his honesty, wisdom, kindness and justice were well renowned across the world…

But surely he was wrong this time…he was definitely wrong…how could this be called justice…whole castle wanted to shout it in his face but they maintained their mum…the women wailed and cried while the men frowned with nothing but a few tears in their eyes… 

His love for Janak-nandani was unquestionable…!!! 

Both of them were considered as a part of a single soul…their relationship was divine and sacred…their love was pure….the world has seen it…then how could he do this to her…WHY…??

Not long before; he had marched to the southernmost tip of the land where the giant sea starts…he even bridged the great sea and attacked the demonic city with only an army of apes without any proper armor, weapons or resources.

He fought and killed the DEVIL himself for her…

Eradicated a whole race…conquered the golden fort; even killed some of the most giant, violent, brave and powerful warriors and demons ever seen on the earth’s face… just to save her…just to be with her…his wife…his soul mate…his love…

Then why in the seven hells would he decide to abandon her; just on the basis of a pointless suspicion raised by a lowborn dhobi…the question was echoing through each and every soul…when he had sentenced the following day in his court-room to abandon his wife who was also the queen of the kingdom and was pregnant with Ayodhya’s heir… to be sent mercilessly into the dense and terrifying forests well outside the city limits… alone…

The man who showed kindness to everyone including animals, apes, fisherman, and vultures…even his enemies; can be so cruel to his own wife…

How could he who was considered as the father of the whole kingdom…can reject his own unborn children…??

                                                      ***

Every prince was in his respective room; except HIM…

He who was given the hardest part to play in this mayhem…

He simply worshipped the guy…his king…his brother…his Bhiya…!!!

His whole existence revolved around his elder brother; each and every vein in his brain each and every nerve…pledged loyalty to him…it won’t be an exaggeration to say that he had surrendered his soul to him… but after following him for so many years like a shadow how could he be a part of this…

 The wife of his elder brother who was like a mother to him…who had always been kind to him…loved him and cared for him as her own son…how could he just take his mother like Bhabhi and leave her in the dark woods…

Hasn’t she endured enough...?

Following her husband for 14 years abandoning all luxuries, being held captive by demons for over an year, proving her innocence by  entering into burning flames…wasn’t that enough already that she is being judged by some lowborn scum and being commanded to live rest of her days like a Sadhvi…wasn’t she a queen…

The great garden was adorned with statues of all the ancestors of the kingdom right from the Suryavanshis, Raghuvanshis, and the Iksvakuvansh…   books, tales and songs were full of the deeds of these legendry kings, knights, warriors, scholars and Bhakts…

These statues which were very huge depictions of each of the ancestors of the dynasty, they were the pride of the kingdom, each statue has its own personality and own tale…each reminded everyone of their great traditions, virtues and values…the greatness among Kshtriyas…among Raghuvanshis…of putting duty before love…of full-filling vows and promises even if it cost your life…the great pillars of Ayodhya…

However as Lakhan walked through the garden he didn’t feel any pride…he didn’t feel great to be born in such family…he felt empty…COMPLETELY EMPTY…!!

On the following day, the king of Ayodhya had commanded his little brother to take Mata Janaki and leave her in the woods; he was to leave the castle with her Bhabhi with the first ray of sunshine…which was due in few hours, this night was the last night for the queen…

Needless to say he was unable to sleep…

Lakhan decided to visit the ancestry garden. He roamed the garden alone…everything was sad and silent. 

The young prince walked in the night his long hair were untied which were falling handsomely on his back, his eyes were red and empty, his muscular frame shone in the moonlight along with his golden and ruby clad ornaments, the silken fabric of cloth, he carried a huge bow on his shoulder and quiver full of arrows tied neatly on his back, he was an archer, they had now became a part of his body. In addition to these he also carried a long sword in a sheath which was beautiful and terrifying at the same time…no ordinary human could have lifted that sword with whole of his might which Lakhan easily carried absent mindedly in one of his hands. It wasn’t a time for war but he had been carrying it for so long that they had become an integrated part of his personality; after all he was a Kshtriya…a warrior…

But today he was helpless…helpless, even with all his might…he walked silently observing the statues of his ancestors…

 He remembered coming here as a kid with his father and brothers…

His father introduced him to each of the statue and told him all about their accomplishments… his father; the former king made sure that he remembers every name and deed… he was sure that he could still identify each and every one of them…

There was the statue of great Manu- son of Surya…founder of Suryavansh.

His grandson Ikshyaku…so his dynasty is also called as Ikshyakuvansh.

King Raghu after who the dynasty was also called Raghuvansh or Raghukul. (Even his big brother was called by many names some of which includes Raghu-veer,Raghu-nandan,Raghav)

Harishchandra the most honest human ever to be born.

Great warrior Sagara.

His great grandson Bhagirath the one who bought Maa Ganga from heavens, with his ‘never give up’ attitude.

King Dilipa who was said to be the most righteous and chivalrous of emperors.

On and on he went when finally he passed the statue of Maharaj Aja, his grandfather…

He smiled a bit as he was able to recount each and every one of them.

Then his smile faded as the last and the most recent statue came into his view…

He looked up at the latest statue…

He remembered the face too well… it was heavily bearded… the statue was very grand…the person to whom it belonged was broad shouldered…with long hair…and dense beard and moustache…jolly smile…his arms were very long and so was his height…he was mountainous…adorned with all his weapons including a giant Bow and arrows and a large curved blade…his armor fitted royally on his body…while a beautiful crown covered his huge head… symbol of a moon was depicted on his forehead while a huge nimbus surrounded back of his head. He was smiling. He looked splendid, honorable and royal. A true king…a warrior… however his eyes were sparkling; full of mercy, humor…and kindness…too jovial…!!!

LAXMAN stood rooted to the ground as he stared at the statue of his father…

The ever smiling face of MAHARAJ DASHRATH…looked down upon his son…!!!

                                                          ***

The young prince just sat down in front of his father…and wept…silently…sadly…

It had been more than 14 years since the demise of king Dashrath but today was the day he really longed for him…he really missed him…

He remembered all the time he had spent with him as a child…never had he seen a better king…a better father…a more loving father….

He regretted that he hasn’t spent enough time with him…tears brimmed his eyes as he remembered that he wasn’t with him at his deathbed… he was with his Bhiya…  

He was filled with remorse as he remembered that the last time when his father was alive…he was angry with him….his rage and fury against his own father was of paramount heights when he had learnt that he was sending his elder son to the woods…

Lakhan was now sitting on the garden floor at the foot of the statue of his father…his bow and arrow and his long sword lay forgotten in the dust…they were of no use…nothing was of any use now… the king’s words were final…

He could have fought all the armies of the world gladly…but fighting his own kin was above him…this was something he could never win…

He had shown his discontent and he had argued…and never had he argued so stubbornly with Bhiya.

 Whole of the day, when everyone in the royal court stood mum…he shouted…argued…and debated with the ONE, to whom the whole world now surrendered…the ONE who he dearly called Bhiya.

He had voiced his opinion…his rejection…he voted against the decision for Mata Janaki …but with no use…

How he wished for his father to be alive today…maybe he could have stopped this doom…maybe just maybe he could have knocked some sense into his eldest son.

He broke down completely as he remembered that he was the one chosen to do the terrible deed. And it had to be done in a few hours.

 

No one had ever seen him crying…EVER…he couldn’t remember when was the last time he cried…

Nope… crying was for the weak or the women…he was a fighter…a Kshtriya…or so he thought so till date…

His image and reputation never portrayed him as a very sentimental or emotional person…on the other hand he was known for his recklessness…his rage and fury…and for his SHORT TEMPER…they said that anger always rested on the tip of his nose…

It has occurred to him to go and give such a terrible death to that disgraced dhobi that even the gods may shudder…

His brother always told him that he acts first…thinks later… maybe he was right.

But he couldn’t act today…he shivered at the thought of what he was about to do…he considered it a sin…a sin which he was commanded to do…

                                                        ***

 It was almost evening now; the sun was setting slowly radiating its orange and purple glow across the horizon…

The woods were dark and silent… strangely even the birds and animals sensed some tension and sadness in the air…

They were off the royal chariot which was adorned with Suryavanshi flags… he had rode all day going as slowly as possible…nothing but grief and remorse clouding his mind...

Whole of his ride…his eyes leaked…his body shivered and…goose bumps kept erupting throughout his body…his clutches on the reins of the horses kept on slipping…

He didn’t spoke a single word during the entire journey even though she kept on asking assurances…

He had brainstormed throughout the journey as to how to carry out his brother’s orders and yet to ensure safety of Mata Janaki…

It was the best place he came up with… well away from Ayodhya  near the banks of river Ganga deep in the dark woods as his Bhiya had instructed but within the proximity of the Ashram of the great sage…

The great sage whose wisdom and virtue was sung by all the kings, Rishis and Munis… under whose protection no one could ever dare to harm Mata Janaki… the one was also known as The Adikavi…The Trikaldarshi… The Maharishi…

Lakhan had planned to leave her near his Ashram hoping desperately that before any of the other sinister things could find her; Sita Maiyya should be taken under the protection of Maharishi Valmiki… 

He was prepared for this…but now his courage had failed him…

Lahan lay at the feet of Jagat Janani crying, withering like a child…

IT HAS BEEN HOURS NOW…!!

But the discussion was still on… he argued with his Bhabhi…tried to convince her…he didn’t want to leave her like this in the middle of the forests all alone…moreover he didn’t want to go back to that castle again…where injustice and cruelty was practiced… he didn’t want to be a Suryavanshi anymore for which he had always been proud…

As time passed it become evident that he wasn’t going to leave her alone. It now became obvious to Mata Janaki that stern measures were necessary now…

She plucked a leaf from a nearby plant. Lakhan was still lying at her feet crying like a child…unwilling to let her go… she placed the leaf on the ground and stepped back a few feet from him.

“Beloved Devar.. Do you remember that once you drew a line for me that I wasn’t supposed to cross…”

Lakhan raised his head on hearing these words to find her standing a few paces away and found a leaf lying on ground between them…

His eyes were now so red from crying that he could hardly see…his mouth went dry as he realized what she intended to do…

“Bhabhi…please don’t…”

 She continued.

“If you do remember properly…then you must also remember the consequences which followed after I crossed that sacred line…”

“Today…I’m drawing a line for you, which you mustn’t cross at any cost…to come after me”

The sobs of Lakhan grew shrill and louder.

“NO…PLEASE DON’T…NO…DON’T YOU PUNISH ME LIKE THIS…FIRST BHIYA THEN YOU TOO… YOU BOTH ARE LIKE MY PARENTS DON’T DO THIS TO ME…”

The maternal heart of Maa Janaki swelled but she remained in her stern posture and calm.

She turned her back towards him and started walking towards the dense forests determinedly.

“Maa...  Is there any final command…anything your son can do for you..?” the voice of Lakhan echoed.

She turned to look at him. She saw that he was now on his knees… still on the other side of the leaf that she had put… his head was bowed and his hands were folded…he was shivering uncontrollably…but somehow now he was controlling his tears…

“Soumitra… I haven’t given birth to you but you have always been like a son to me…I am proud of you and bless you         wholeheartedly…thereby if you really respect me so much…I request you to return to your elder brother…your king. Now after losing me he has no one but you… I can’t imagine what will happen to him if he loses you too…always be with him…take care of him like you have always done…son you are truly great and my Ashirvad is always with you…” 

Saying this she made her way into deeper into the forests. 

LAXMAN  kept on watching her till she disappeared from his view into the wilderness.

After a while nothing remained there but the sobs of the prince who was still sitting by that leaf weeping…

Maybe there are some wounds that can never be healed, even by - Sanjivni…!!!