SITA’S SISTER (10 page)

Urmila gave a bitter laugh. ‘Stop it. You can’t fool me anymore! I heard you. You don’t want me, that is why you don’t want to marry me!’

‘Don’t doubt that, ever!’ he said thickly. ‘I love you, Mila. And I am saying this now as I am not afraid to say so. It was this fear of losing you that forbade me to never utter those words. You were too beautiful, too good to make me hope you would be accessible or accept my love. I have been in love with you from that beautiful moment when I saw you looking at me haughtily in the garden with that pooja thali in your hands. And nothing has been the same ever again. Not me, my peace of mind, my principles, my promises. You have taken away my heart, my pride, my everything…but what can I give you? Nothing but sorrow and heartache. I cannot promise you happiness. And that’s why I cannot marry you. I shouldn’t. And that is what I was telling Ram.’

Her scornful smile and bitter words died on her lips. The man who stood in front of her was a man possessed, controlled by the powerful force of strong emotions, torn in the conflict of his heart and mind, thought and reason, his love and his ideals.

‘That is my quandary—I love you to distraction and yet I don’t have the courage to marry you. Because I am a torn man, Mila,’ he said despairingly. ‘I had no intentions of marrying ever. For me, my life is being with my brother. He is my all. He is my friend, my teacher, my life, my soul. I cannot do without him—that’s how I have grown up, that’s how I have been made…’ he shook his head in disbelief. ‘They say I am so servile to him because my mother Queen Sumitra is not of royal lineage, but from a class of handmaids. I don’t really care either way. She is the wisest woman I know and taught me right since childhood that Ram is my God and the purpose that justifies my existence is serving him, protecting him. Some people consider me his menial, and I don’t mind it. He is the reason for my being. That’s what I thought I was—a brother completely dedicated to his elder brother. That was my life’s aim…till I met you…’ he said throatily.

He gave her a look that still had the power to make her melt. ‘I prided myself on the belief that I would never get charmed by any woman, which made my decision to remain unmarried relatively easy. I had never contemplated falling in love. But I did, and badly.’

Badly—an unusual expression to describe love. Or was that exactly what it was and would be? Urmila kept silent, unsure of what to say and what to believe.

‘You were everything I had not predicted—lovely, intelligent, teasing, witty, strong and above all, so devoted to your sisters. I felt a certain affinity with you because, as is true for me, your siblings are the anchors of your life. I loved the way you were protective about your sisters, I loved that flashing look in your eyes when challenged, I loved your laugh, the way you furrowed your brows while frowning, that quick colour rising deliciously on your face each time we exchanged glances. I was a drowning man myself, taken by the tide. And then, as I found myself falling hopelessly for you, I felt a strange fear—was my love for you distancing me from my service to my brother?’

‘Was that the reason for your unpleasantness?’ she asked more in wonderment than recalled regret.

‘Ashamedly, yes. Each time I saw you, I went insane; all I wanted was to have you completely for myself. And each time I realized I could not give myself completely to you at all. I was livid when Ravan dared to even look at you, I could have killed him! When the princes at the swayamvar clamoured for your hand, all I felt was fury and jealousy and the fear that I would lose you. I wanted to protect you from them and the likes of men like Ravan. This realization made me force myself to recognize my feelings for you but I had no right to them when I could not acknowledge them in word and action to you.’ He saw her flinch. ‘And it was this frustration and anger that made me stay away from you, knowing full well in that bleak certainty that you could never be mine.’

‘No, I am yours,’ she corrected him quietly, uninhibited about revealing her feelings. ‘
You
are not mine.’

‘I am. I am. I have never loved anyone so passionately, so blindly, so incoherently,’ he sighed, drawing in his breath painfully. ‘When I say I love you, Mila, I am sure about you but not myself. That I taunts me—can I love truly and wholly? Am I that strong to love you back? Am I that capable and deserving of love and loving? Shall I ever be able to make you happy? Am I worthy of your love? And I fall short. I am a man trapped.’

‘Trapped in your own expectations, your own self-limitations,’ she said softly, unperturbed by his argument. Her anger and hurt had suddenly dissipated. ‘Loving is also giving; you are not ready to give yourself to me. But don’t you see, I don’t want your complete surrender. I love you but that does not mean I possess you, your beliefs and your loyalties. I assure you that I shall never come between your loyalty to your brothers and your family. Likewise, I shall not allow my love for you to be threatened by my love for my sisters and my parents. By loving you, my love for them will never falter, nor should yours.’

‘But it would clash, we are marrying into a family,’ he said impatiently.

He was sounding much like her mother, Urmila realized with a start, reminiscing the earlier conversation. Both of them were saddled with the same unwarranted burden of fear and trepidation.

‘But that doesn’t mean you stop loving one for another,’ she said vehemently, ‘or abandoning one for the other! That is no sacrifice!’

‘I am afraid that is what I shall do if I were faced with that dilemma. I shall choose my brother each time.’

He saw her wince but continued relentlessly. ‘And that is what I want to talk to you about. Were we to marry, I shall not be able to give you the happiness and full attention you deserve. That would not be fair on you and I don’t want you getting hurt. There will be times when we shall have to choose and I shall unhesitatingly choose my brother each time over you. He shall always take precedence in my life, not you. And that is why I cannot marry you. I simply should not.’

He was being brutally honest; she didn’t know whether to hate him for it or admire him. But this was the truth—he could love her only that much and not more. He had devoted his life to his brother and he could not accommodate her. Was it a gesture of rejection or resignation? Or was his self-deprecating manner winning her all over again with a dawning respect? Or was it helplessness that she could not give him up but grab at the thinnest hope? She was madly in love with this man but was she mad enough to marry him knowing all that he had confessed to her?

‘I had meant to explain this to you but father’s letter made things worse,’ he looked restless. ‘He assumes that I will get married, and now that he has announced our wedding to the world, I don’t know how I can get out,’ he gave a mirthless smile. ‘But that would not be fair to anyone, especially you. I cannot do that to you—it’d be unforgivable!’

‘But you are doing exactly that! You
are
forsaking me right now!’ cried Urmila. ‘I know what you are going through, your dilemma, but how are you going to explain to my father, to the world?’

‘I won’t hurt and humiliate you ever, I would rather kill myself!’ he said huskily. ‘I shall tell him the truth as well.’

‘What? That out of fear that I may come between the two brothers, you are ready to abandon me?’

She made it sound so ludicrous that even Lakshman could not help giving a sad, twisted smile. He shook his head. ‘You lovely temptress, as your name claims, you have me well and truly! You are now ensnaring me with your wit and words,’ he sighed. ‘But I fear I don’t have the courage or the will to confess to your father that I cannot marry you as I am not worthy of you or your love. But I shall have to and he will understand. The world may point fingers at me and I shall accept it. But Mila, I cannot forsake your happiness for my principles.’

‘And so?’

‘Wives seek ambition for their husbands, often seeking their own fortunes through the husband’s,’ he answered wryly. ‘Moreover, a princess always wishes to be a queen. And you won’t become one if you marry me. You are, after all, King Janak’s daughter, a rare scholar herself and no ordinary princess, while I will never be king…but the support for the king—my brother, Ram.’

‘And you believe you are an ordinary prince?’ she countered sarcastically. ‘Either you are in doubt about yourself or you are doubting me—both are insulting to my sense of pride. Or is this another way of dissuasion?’

‘I can never doubt you, Mila. But by marrying me your social position, too, will get compromised…I am no choice for you.’

‘No, you still are my choice, regardless of your reluctance,’ she retorted coolly. ‘But
you
do have a choice—either break off the wedding and leave me to my fate or marry me, your loyalty to your brother notwithstanding. I accept you as my husband, do you?’

‘Don’t be so flippant, Mila. You know I can’t leave you to your fate and desert you but will I ever make you happy if I marry you?’ he said cupping her face in his hands. She found the gesture delightfully intimate. This was the first time he had touched her deliberately, as a gesture of tenderness, not in a tussle. He held her close and she felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. ‘You don’t realize what you are saying. I love you and my biggest fear is that I shall lose you and all because of me!’

‘You will lose me if you don’t marry me now,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘Oh Lakshman, can’t you see that you are doing that right now in fearful anticipation of it happening in the future?’ she said gently, placing her hand over his. He took her hands and rubbed his thumb absently on the inner side of her wrist. It was erotic, distracting her faintly from what she was saying. ‘You are so scared of the time yet to come that you are ready to let go of the time we have now. You are depriving us of our present at the price of withholding our future. Are you so scared that you won’t give us a chance? I know you love me. Likewise, I love you—for what you are and not for what I hope you to be. I know you will always remain devoted to Ram. I cannot prise you from him. I have heard so many stories about the deep love between you and Ram. The two of you are like Nara and Narayan—the twins who derived love and strength from each other. I accept that. I have to, if I want to have you. And I promise you, I shall never come between the two of you. Just as I know Sita shall never interfere between you brothers. It is that simple.’

‘No, it is not. Mila, your words make it so,’ he argued. ‘And you do have a way with words that is hard to resist.’

‘My words make it sensible too,’ she smiled bewitchingly. ‘And I shall prove them right with the right action, if and when the time comes. Right now, prince of Ayodhya, you have no choice but to marry this princess of Mithila and we shall live happily ever after!’

Urmila knew she was a woman of words. But she had never imagined she would use this skill to convince a man about what a good wife she would make, or how he would be the ideal husband for her, she thought with a grim smile. Now, returning to the palace, and noticing Mandavi’s censorious frown, Urmila knew she would be at her persuasive best again. They, too, had overheard everything and had presumed the worst. She had to redeem him in their eyes and reassure her wary sisters that she had taken the right decision.

She was immediately assailed with a volley of words the moment she stepped inside her chamber.

‘Are you fine now?’ Sita looked anxious.

‘Did you meet him?’ Mandavi questioned searchingly.

Kirti took her hand in hers and made her sit down ‘After you ran off, he followed you—he looked miserable. Are things fine between you both?’

The sight of the three scared faces so worried for her moved Urmila and made her feel cherished. These were her sisters. She could not afford to lie to them; she had to tell them the truth. Not all the details, she recalled with a blush and a smile.

‘The fact that you are smiling again proves all’s well,’ said Mandavi with relief in her voice. ‘But, whatever happened? Why didn’t he want to marry you? After what he said and how he hurt you, I swear I was ready to kill him!’ she spat.

Urmila squeezed her hand to reassure her. Under her aloof mask, Mandavi was fierce—not just the most possessive but also the most protective of her sisters. She would have gladly clawed his eyes out, given a chance. And that was why the air needed to be cleared urgently. It was up to her to restore his lost respect.

‘I assumed the worst, so did you all,’ Urmila said quietly. ‘He loves me, I don’t doubt that. But he does not want to marry me to protect me from heartache and disillusionment…’

‘Disillusionment?’ interrupted Mandavi sharply.

‘Because he fears he cannot give me his all. He wanted nothing—neither love nor marriage—to come between him and Ram.’

She heard Sita gasp but she ignored it. ‘He wanted to make everything clear and tell me the truth about exactly where and how I stand in his life. The other option, of course, was to call off the wedding. That was the option he was contemplating to save me from any future hurt.’

She was met with a still pause till Mandavi angrily got up.