Satataharitam - Short Stories On Narayana

Rama's Treasury

A/N: This is an angsty piece. If you people don't feel like reading it, feel free to skip these until I can write something happy. Thank you!

Also, those who are going to read this, please don't rage for excluding some characters in this piece. Read the A/N at the end before you do that.

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Raghunatha's treasury once brimmed and overflowed, and he thought it was inexhaustible. It initially seemed inexhaustible to everyone, but it slowly seemed to diminish in size.

The dearest son of Kaikeyi wondered what he had done to lose his right to be looked at with her doting eyes. He only smiled when he looked at her, for he still knew she loved him just the same.

But what he also knew that there was an eclipse of some sort. An eclipse, that would later bring the darkest of times to his beloved family.

Kaushaleya worried about how he would live without looking at his mother's beaming, bright smile everyday. The glint in his eyes came from the twinkle of joy in hers. What would he do without her?

How would he live without having the privilege of touching her feet everyday? As childish as it may sound, he loved it when she kissed him on the forehead, still treating him like he was her infant Rama.

She sang to him sometimes. Sometimes he'd fall asleep to her lullabies, and sometimes he'd wake up to her energy-filled songs. Sometimes, his spirits would be lifted thanks to her singing, and other times, he would ask her to sing to make herself feel better. How would he survive without listening to the most melodious voice he knew?

Rama enjoyed being called Saumitri as much as twins did. His mother, Sumitra, showered him with as much affection, if not more, as Kaushalya.

Sumitra Maa was never someone who overdid things, but even she would often end up almost spoiling a young Rama by giving him everything he wanted, by being sweeter than sugar to him, by giving him so many hugs when he was little that he could never forget that familiar, loving touch.

Now that he thought about it, it made enough sense that she did express all her love for her beloved (but step) son. Right? As a child, his mothers were all the same for him, and for his brothers. Even as adults, all of them treated all the three of the women as their very own birth mothers.

But the whole step-son, step-brother, step-mother thing was indeed a thing. As in, it was valid to wonder if the relationship of these mothers and sons would be the same over time. What if, while growing up, one of the children picked up from somewhere that one of his step-mothers wasn't his own mother?

At this point, Rama was positive that he was overthinking, as he stared at Lakshmana unknowingly. He tried to shake himself out of his thoughts but his little brother's face in front of him reminded him of the ones he had left at home - one that should've probably been his twin because of how similar they were, and another who was actually his twin but was fairly different from him.

Bharata was a literal jewel. He still was. He always had been. He was precious as he was, not requiring to be beaten and scraped to be polished so that he could earn his value. In fact, being tortured the way he was for no fault, was exactly what he never deserved.

Rama had lost Bharata, not by circumstance, but by choice. Rama had chosen to leave his brother behind in a place he no longer called his own. He had chosen to decide what was better for his brother, and still believed that it was.

But was it really the better choice for any of their wounded hearts, at any point?

Rama had missed his brother bitterly throughout the exile, but he had barely expressed it. He had missed Bharata so, so very badly. There were times when he'd just be talking about something, Bharata's name would pop up, and he'd either entirely lose himself, drowning in his memories, or he'd just go on an endless rant about how Bharata was always the most amazing person he knew.