Satataharitam - Short Stories On Narayana

The All-Seeing Sky

Rama watched as the last of the corridor's lights were blown out by the chilly winter winds, making him shiver momentarily.

He smiled. Everyone was asleep. He was the only one staying up even though it was already sometime past midnight. Maybe he just wanted some time with his soul that night.

He climbed up the only flight of stairs still illuminated, and reached the massive terrace, only to find his brother there. He stepped back, surprised, but was still quiet.

It was literally freezing, and this man was sitting on the cold marble floor, in a loose dhoti and his upper body covered with a uselessly thin angavastra.

Bharata hadn't seen Rama. He was gazing at the sky like it was the most beautiful thing in the universe. Rama just smiled, before turning around, tiptoeing down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Quickly, he warmed up a glass of milk, and added some sugar to it. He also added his special touch to it, like he did to everything he ever did. He picked up a couple little cardamoms and crushed them as quietly as he could, before adding the powder to the milk and stirring it.

Bharata loved this cardamom milk, especially when Bhaiya made it, for some reason.

Rama poyred the milk in a glass and picked it up, climbing up to the terrace again. This time, however, he made an effort to be louder as he neared the terrace entrance, hoping to catch his attention.

Bharata instantly looked at him, eyes wide with surprise, as Rama walked in, smiling. "I thought you'd have slept!" he said.

Rama handed him the glass and sat down beside him. "Don't you feel cold?"

"It's alright." He shrugged. "Thanks for this, though I'm absolutely certain that I didn't need you to go and make this for me in the middle of the night."

"Oh please." Rama rolled his eyes. "You haven't had this in at least fourteen years. Nobody makes it as well as I do, so shut up and drink it."

Bharata closed his eyes and sipped in some, feeling the comfort of someone hugging his soul and warming it up with their love.

And then he looked at his Bhaiya, smiling a little.

"Besides," Rama began. "I know you'd have asked for it yourself, considering the weather, had it not been midnight, wouldn't you?"

"I missed you." The words were out inadvertently, but there was no regret on Bharata's face.

"Yeah you totally never told me that-"

"You and the comfort you provide..." He paused to take another sip of the warm milk, relishing it. "Are you some magical piece of the stars that accidentally, or not so accidentally, incarnated on earth because there wasn't enough light and love and warmth in here?"

Rama made a cute face and laughed. "So now I'm a piece of the stars?"

"Taarakaraama seems a good enough name for you, does it not?"

"No? It makes a great name, thank you very much, but I'd prefer you stick to calling me 'Bhaiya', or better, call me by my simple little name!"

"You're surely celestial." Bharata looked at the whole moon in the sky. "Ramachandra." He turned to his brother and chuckled. "Prove that you're not celestial."

"I'm your brother and that is all I know." he insisted, shaking his head. "And what I also know is that you'd rather let this angavastra you're wearing fly because it's the most useless one ever." He pulled it away and gave him another one he had remembered to bring for him. "Why do you still own this, it's out of some antique artefacts shop or something-"