Ancient India. Approximately 7 thousand years ago. The Kingdom of Kosala.
A dutiful crown prince exiled from his kingdom for fourteen years. A loving wife who follows him, and is captured. A demon king who threatens the entire mortal population of t...
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Kaikeyi-The After
It felt unreal as she stared at the ceiling. Gold, pearly white marble, chandeliers and hanging jewels, but GOD! So much gold. Gold that her son couldn't have at that very moment. He wasn't lying on a cushioned bed, fanned by servants, staring at a gold ceiling leisurely with nothing else to do. Kaushalya truly wondered what he was doing on Kaikeyi's birthday, the very woman who had ensured his exile.
Was he acting normally? Had he perhaps forgotten? Or was he celebrating like he normally would have in the palace? Was he spitting on the ground bitterly-no, no. Ram was not like that. He was forgiving sometimes when even she was not. She was normally proud of that complex, but she cursed it, not being able to imagine him laughing and celebrating on Kaikeyi's birthday. Her thirteenth birthday into Ram's exile.
Kaushalya reached up towards the ceiling, her eyes clouded with tears, but she heard footsteps coming, and quickly dropped her arm limply to her side, sitting up and wiping away the last of her tears. The King may be dead, and his firstborn exiled, and his kingdom in sullen misery, but she was the chief queen of Ayodhya, and she would step into the pyre of her husband freely instead of appearing undignified and very much the queen.
Thank goodness, however, it was Bharat that had stepped in, Bharat with his slightly slumped shoulders and light hair, longer than all of his brothers', and his wary smile and light, tentative steps. She looked right past him, where Mandavi stood as well, a silent pillar of support right behind him. "Maa..." he whispered, swallowing hard. Kaushalya closed her eyes. Person after person had come that afternoon, asking why she wouldn't wake up on Kaikeyi's birthday, why she wouldn't wish Kaikeyi, what her gift was to Kaikeyi. Kaikeyi, Kaikeyi, Kaikeyi! Was that all they could think of? She didn't quite recall them being nearly so happy when it was her birthday. "It has been many hours since dawn broke. We miss your prayers."
It was these words that convinced Kaushalya, and she nodded, sniffling hard. Bharat walked in, looking around solemnly at the bleak room. The windows were closed, the curtains around the bed drawn, and only Kaushalya sat on the edge, her graying hair tucked elegantly behind her ears. Bharat closed the door shut behind him and stepped near her feet. "Maa..." he hissed again. "Maa Kaikeyi wants to meet with you."
Kaushalya looked down at him, at his low head. He called that woman mother, not queen as he had insisted upon for years. He sensed her eyes, and looked up. "I have forgiven her." He spoke confidently, before his entire face broke down. "I have forgiven her! Maa! I can't help not forgiving her! I remember those days so clearly, when she used to dance around the halls, and Papa used to laugh, and we all gathered to grumpily say hello in the dawns of the mornings..." he trailed off as Kaushalya stroked his hair without emotion.
"Now she just walks down the halls sullenly, silently, bleakly. On her birthday, Maa! On her birthday! We don't celebrate paupers' birthdays so solemnly and sadly as we do hers! Maa, she is plagued with the same guilt as I am-" he thought for a second. "As I was." he looked up at her, lip quivering. "She is my birth mother, mother of my womb! I can't help but forgive the woman who raised me! Who mollycoddled me! Please, I beg of you, do what you couldn't do ages ago! End our misery this one day!"
