|| Questions: The Second Exile||

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The morning was in it's most maiden hour when Sita had a ruinous ache in her heart. Her sons, now almost a decade older, slumbered on their bamboo mats- sans velvet and silk- sleeping like a bear in hibernation- with so much peace and scented comfort that it made her corneas glass for a few moments. She always knew that she won't bear children during her exile with Ram. She had this resolve much and much stronger than anyone, as she knew that her kids deserved better.

Little did she know, that what her kids would get - would be a shy shadow of better.

But for all the hardships, she had gone by, her kids were the only gentle reminders to forget that something like Ayodhya's grand palace exsisted. The children were pretty much unhindered in their nonchalance towards their origin, other than a few periodic questions about their father. Sita was all praises for Ram. For the children, their father, was a kind man who walked righteously on the face of the earth. A man of morals and intense love and empathy for every being on the planet. A man, who bravely fought sin and unrighteousness.

And then one day, Kush asked almost suddenly about his whereabouts. Sita had anticipated that question for long, and it was a wicked surprise to her that the question had arised so late, that it almost looked like a mistake from her younger's mouth. She had her back towards the boys when this question arised, mollycoddling a spatula in the couldron for the evening meal. She was about to answer the question when she heard an unexplainable and murmured hiss from Luv's mouth. It was omnious to her ears. She could not help but smile like a hollow doll, and then the next moment her children had announced their exit- running lengths, admiting their mood for a cool dip in the river. She had no time to turn around and say stay safe, as she was so engrossed in thinking, with rather pursed lips that her children were conciously keeping their queries bundled in their mind.

The very same night, she had made Kush coo to sleep and had given Luv a strong embrace lying along with him on the bamboo mat. She blowed his eyes lightly, the way he liked it as a toddler, laughing till the end of the earth in the most magnetic fashion. His curly hair bounced with his laughter as she had imagined Kaushalya's description of a younger Ram, in all his glorious encounter's with the moonlight. Kush had a taste for the crescent ball of light- just like his father, but Luv had found extreme and exaggerated involvment in more subtle things. 'What is the question, Nandu?' Sita softly questioned Luv. She had called her sons Nandu several times, and she had no clue why she came up with the endearment.

Luv's eyes grew a size bigger in astonishment as he nuzzled his nose deeper in the fall of his mother's neck. 'Nothing, Amma' he called her Ma, mostly and Amma occasionally. He used the latter in certain circumstances, when he wanted to get away from trouble. 'The one you stopped Kush from asking today.' Sita continued as if Luv hadn't said anything.

'My father, and your Grandfather...'

'Raja Seerdhwaj Janak' Luv voiced in great pleasurer as Sita noded and continued further. ' always told me to ask every query which stumbled my mind. He, without a spec of doubt and hesitation, answered my whims till the point of satisfaction. Today, when I look back, whatever has become of me is because he never detered to shut my aspirations on any subject. And if, as a mother, in any sense if I deter you both to speak your mind, then I might have just failed.' Sita's voice carried a slight disappointment but mostly her expression was consolatory.

Luv had closed his eyes, and stirred a bit on Sita's declaration only to ask ' Where is our illustrous father, Ma?'

Sita sucked a gentle breath. She didn't know that those words, when spoken from her little children's mouth will have such a ruinous affect on her. "Illustrous" - the words raised her gooseflesh, as she felt a false mock in her son's voice.

She smiled a bit, finally speaking of him in a more human way, after so many years. Till now, her beloved Ram - felt like a caricature of bard stories. Her own past life felt like a major disconnect- a difficult fairtale written for textbooks. The man she loved, was unreachable and so physically distant that she had started to just revere his exsistence and not feel it.

'He is Ayodhya's king, Nandu. He lives in Ayodhya, in the palace, with his brothers and their wives.' Sita's voice jingled. 'All of them are my sister's. Your Aunt Urmila, Mandavi and Shrutkirti. Your Uncles- Laxman, Bharat and Shatrughan, all of them- stay together.'

'hmm.' Luv's voice was significantly distressed. He couldn't pick up the right demeanour to ask that why his mother, he and Kush were in this Ashram and not in Ayodhya, that why Ayodhya's queen did not wear fancy velvets and had a 100 handmaids to help her daily jobs, and most of all- Why his righteous father didn't want them there?

'Have we done something wrong, Ma?' Luv asked, troubled and vexed by his brain.

'Absolutely no Nandu!' Sita could feel herself almost chuckle in shock. 'Something happened a few years ago. Your father punished himself and I complied.' her syllables trailed in sweet agony.

'I think...' Luv hesitated a bit, but as Sita asked him, he continued- rather in high regard- 'I think, that you have percieved it a bit wrong. See how difficult it is to live here when compared to a grand palace with everything at your hand. Now, who is punished, Amma? you or father?'

Sita stared on the wall behind Luv. She had smeared it a few days ago with cowdung, so evenly that it had mentally satisfied her. But now, it feels that she could have done better.

'It doesn't go like that, sweetheart. We all are much more than what meets the eye. Your father has been burdened for a long time, and he too feels just like us- unable to help himself or us- with all the earth's resources in his hands. You, my dear and me and Kush are free souls. We live by our own rules - so much independent and fulfilled. Always, look out for your father, Nandu. He is a man of great scarifice.'

And so was she, a woman of great sacrifice.

To Sita, Luv slumbered in more peace and no resistance that night and so did she.

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