The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

Doubts & Concerns

"Wait, we haven't told Sita bhabhi and Urmila yet, have we?" asked Lakshman, quickly removing himself from the hug. Ram nodded, shuffling from foot to foot. Lakshman noticed this, and put a hand on his brother's shoulders worriedly. "Are you alright bhaiyya? I know that you feel a little bit of pressure, is there anything else?" Ram's head darted up, wincing at the concern evident on Lakshman's face.

"I want to be king, but I am a little worried about what the praja will think. Do you think they will be unhappy? I know they love me, of course, but are they ready to have me as king, do you think?" Lakshman nodded so quickly that Ram wondered if he was even paying attention to the question, or if he had just played Russian Roulette and nodded along to whatever he was saying. "I am worried, to be honest.

"Come on, bhaiyya, let us just leave the palace for a few seconds, even and all your worries will be alleviated. Come on!" Lakshman grasped Ram's hand and dragged him out of their room, down the corridors, stumbling down the steps, and out the courtyard. Pausing, he threw open the doors and Ram stepped out, almost tripping over pebbles.

What he saw was an Ayodhya happier than he had ever seen it. The poor and the wealthy alike decorated the front of their houses and huts, grand or thatched, with lights and dias. Women and young daughters were painting rangoli over their front entrances. People were parading around in their best clothing like they did on all the annual pujas. Lanterns hung from roofs, colored with reds and pinks and blues and greens.

Ram saw, from far away, people traveling down from the mountains themselves, holding small traveling packs, and beaming at what they saw. He noticed elephants trumpeting with painted heads, and even they looked happy. He saw vendors selling their wares for lower prices than normal, stalls covered with bowls and bowls of colorful powders and firecrackers. He saw food sellers making spicy fritters on the spot, and people buying so much of them that Ram wondered if they would even be any food left in the kingdom by the end of the day.

But more than the decorations themselves were the spirits. People were laughing and smiling so hard it looked like their faces would split open. Giggles, joyful and innocent, rang in the air like the pure clanging of a temple bell. People were handing away their good belongings to the poor and needy, their kind and charitable spirits rekindled in the face of the happiness that the upcoming coronation brought them.

Loud cheers went up as two men put up a large banner that said "Rejoice, for our Ram is going to be King!" People laughed, the elderly and aged, faces wrinkled like raisins, and eyes squinted but still seeing, hugged the ones too young to talk. Painters and artists were pushed forward and handed large golden coins by the rich to paint images of Ram on the king's throne. Happiness was in the air with nothing to cloud it.

Ram stared at all of this, taking the city of Ayodhya in. He had never seen it so joyful, so prosperous, so great. The people wanted him to be their king, no matter if he was young or old. The people wanted him on the throne, they trusted him. Their trust built up in his heart and mind, and lit up a fire of confidence in the young crown prince, and he let out a shaky breath, before beaming, arms spread out in pride.

"Never doubt yourself bhaiyya, for no one else does." he heard a murmur from beside him, before Lakshman smiled at him and turned around as Ram stared at his back with a smile. Lakshman would never fail to reassure him. Ram turned back around, and retreated into the shadows, content in watching his subjects prosper in delight at his soon to be crowning.

-----O-----

Lakshman wiped away tears as he stormed down the halls. He could not stop the smile that spread across his face. His life's dream was fulfilled, his brother was going to be king! He sniffled deeply, before straightening his angavastram and looking down the corridor, eyes darting between the doorways of his Sita bhabhi and his Urmila. He took a deep, shuddery breath. Telling Sita bhabhi was Ram bhaiyya's duty and honor, not his.