SITA’S SISTER (8 page)

‘That’s a little difficult with Lakshman around!’ said Ram heartily, clearly trying to ease the bleak mood. ‘…and as usual, my brave little younger brother saved the day for all of us!’

Janak was overwhelmed with gratitude. He turned to Lakshman and bowed to him. ‘You have not just saved my daughters and my son-in-law; you have given me a new life. How would have I faced the world, my family and myself? You, young man, have averted a tragedy…and I shall be eternally indebted to you!’

Lakshman was evidently embarrassed but seeing the king overcome with feelings, he tried to reassure him. ‘I did what I should have,’ he said kindly, trying to assuage the king’s face. ‘We are family now and it is our duty to look after each other,’ he affirmed, bowing before the king but not before sweeping Urmila a sardonic glance. She flushed; it was her turn to look embarrassed as she mentally relived their riotous confrontation a few minutes ago. She had jumped to an unfair conclusion, the consequence of which could have been tragic had it not been for Lakshman’s quick presence of mind and his swift decisiveness in that moment of crisis.

‘Sir, you should have let us know of these threats. You should not be worrying about your daughters any longer,’ said Ram, his face grave. ‘It is our responsibility to protect your family now. From here on, I promise to take care of all of you—and not just Sita.’

In the midst of their talk, no one had paid attention to the wounded demon. Before they could realize, he in his last effort, made a dash for the thick woods. Urmila expected Lakshman to prevent him from fleeing or wounding him further but he stood immobile, his eyes fixed at the retreating figure. She gave him a defiant, questioning look.

‘Why did you allow him to escape?’ she demanded.

‘Princess, I think he got the right message, which he will convey to the people concerned,’ he said softly. ‘Unlike some…’

He deliberately left the sentence unfinished, the words hanging in the air accusingly. He stooped down and picked up his dagger which had fallen in the grass and put it back in the empty scabbard at his trim waist. ‘Aha! This devious little thing with which you were ready to kill me! For what? Think!’ he whispered softly, raising a quizzical eyebrow and walked away from her.

Urmila flushed in disconcertion, clenching her fists. She had barely recovered from the rough embrace as he had gripped her close, hard and warm against him. With a start, Urmila realized he even had an endearment for her. Mila, he had throatily murmured with passion blazing in his eyes. Urmila rolled the word in her mind—Mila, something that has been found and received, she said with relish.

But their conversation had left her fretting at his cryptic words. What was he trying to tell her? That she had been ready to kill him for her sister? She could not wipe away that tearing, troubling thought—had she elected her sister over him?

Urmila hid the red welts on her wrists wearing some extra bangles. Thankfully, none of her sisters noticed but she could not help but unconsciously touch the bruise each time she met Lakshman. He caught her once and threw her a knowing, sardonic look. It was taunting: questioning her about her feelings for him yet pushing her away from him. He insisted on staying away from her with aloof dignity, yet she often found him sidling a stray glance at her, as if he could not resist it.

Six days later, a messenger arrived from Ayodhya and Janak summoned the four girls for an immediate discussion. This was indeed not exceptional in the palace of Mithila. Janak always conferred, not just with his wife and younger brother, but with his daughters and nieces as well, before taking any major decision. It was a family tradition that all valued, appreciated and respected.

The moment she entered the room, Urmila anxiously examined the expressions and demeanour of the elders. They did not look grim enough; the news to be divulged would not be very bad. But her mother looked distinctly uneasy; the news to be divulge would not be that good either.

‘King Dashrath expresses his delight over the good news of Sita’s marriage to Ram,’ Janak began, his tone amiable. He paused long as was his habit, often infuriating her impatient mother.

‘But he has another request which, though very flattering, has left me in a quandary…’ he again lapsed into a long pause. ‘He has asked for the hand of the other three girls in marriage for his other three sons,’ he said shortly. ‘Chronologically, it is Lakshman for Urmila,’ he paused watching the colour rise on his daughter’s face; that meant a possible affirmative from his otherwise fastidious daughter. He smiled and that enigmatic smile told Urmila that her father realized her feelings for Lakshman.

‘…Bharat for Mandavi and lastly, Shatrughna for Shrutakirti,’ he continued. ‘Since none of us have even seen the other two princes, he has duly sent across their portraits. You can, of course, look at them. What do you say, my princesses?’ he asked, looking expectantly at each one of them. ‘I have not given my reply yet for I wanted to know your opinion,’ he said gently, but there was a ring of firmness in his voice. ‘There is no pressure, please let me know how you wish it to be. It is up to you to decide. It is not mandatory that you abide by our wishes.’

‘Is it your wish that we marry the princes?’ Urmila asked succinctly.

‘Honestly, I don’t have anything against them. They are fine young princes—brave, noble and kind. I already know Lakshman. Frankly, I couldn’t have found a better man for you, dear,’ her father enthused. ‘…and he has stood up for you more than once, if I am right…,’ he pressed on, his tone light, his eyes teasing, watching his daughter go vividly scarlet. ‘So, he sufficiently qualifies to be a suitable son-in-law for me. He is infinitely better than any from that angry gang of princes who were out to seize you!’ he said with mock horror. ‘So, Urmila, do you agree with me that Lakshman makes for a fine groom for you?’

Not deceived by her father’s light banter, Urmila knew he was seriously asking her to acknowledge her feelings, her free choice. She nodded slowly, her face breaking into a shy, lovely smile.

‘Yes, I abide by your decision,’ she said discreetly, but her heart was singing. She now had her parents’ permission and her heart’s sanction; it could not have been more legitimate.

‘Now how about you, Mandavi? And Kirti?’ asked Janak, turning to his nieces who were standing silently near Urmila.

Kirti walked to the tiny portraits of the princes kept on the carved table. She picked Shatrughna’s portrait and stared at it for long. After a long minute, she quietly kept it down and nodded her consent.

‘I can’t fault him his looks. I would not mind marrying the prince,’ she said, her voice firm.

‘Are you sure? You have not even met him!’ interrupted Mandavi sharply.

‘From the stories I have heard, the four princes of Ayodhya are very alike—brave and clever, and above all, kind and respectful,’ her younger sister argued wisely. ‘I don’t think I can get a better marriage proposal than this one. I accept.’

‘Uncle, would it be ungracious of me to answer in a while? I need time to come to a definite decision. Honestly, I am confused…’ Mandavi’s voice trailed off uncertainly.

‘Take your time, dear, you have a full day to make up your mind,’ her father, King Kushadhwaj, assured her gently. ‘Whatever your decision, we shall stand by it.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Janak. ‘The decision is entirely yours. Let us know by tomorrow morning, dear.’

Sunaina had not spoken a word. Her brows were creased in consternation. She was a woman of strong opinions and did not hesitate to voice them. Her husband had profound respect for them and was often in agreement. That she had not uttered a word during this crucial conversation was not just unusual, it was worrisome. Were the senior members of the family hiding something from them?

Urmila decided to be upfront. ‘Ma, aren’t you happy with my decision?’ she asked bluntly, staring at her mother.

Sunaina’s worried face wreathed in a smile. ‘Oh no, dear, not at all!’ she exclaimed. ‘I am as proud of Lakshman as of Ram being my son-in-law! And Bharat and Shatrughna are handsome young eligible princes that no princess in her right mind would reject!’

Mandavi tightened her lips, the subtle reprimand finding its mark.

‘But you don’t look as happy as you claim to sound,’ Urmila persisted. ‘I can sense a certain reluctance, some hesitation…What is it, Ma? What is troubling you?’

Her mother gave a helpless look and her doubt hardened. Janak interposed gallantly. ‘Your mother has some reservations about this proposal…’ he hesitated, his tone grave. ‘Though the four princes are individually exceedingly suitable for each one of you, my little princesses, your mother is not too keen on the idea of four sisters marrying into the same family of four brothers. Her argument is that it would complicate the personal equation between you sisters, or your husbands respectively.’

Urmila suddenly recalled Lakshman’s sardonic accusation that she had been ready to kill him for her sister and understood what her mother was worried about. Urmila knew her mother was not a woman controlled by sentiments; she was sensible even in the most trying moments of crisis. And right now, she was able to register her mother’s gnawing misgivings. Sita was not convinced though.

‘Ma, what could be better than us sisters getting married into the same family?’ she questioned. ‘That means we shall always be together—as sisters and sisters-in-law. What I had been dreading the most has been wonderfully averted! I shall not have to leave my sisters for my new family. Oh Ma, the most wrenching moment for any daughter on her wedding day is to say farewell to her parents and her home—to be separated from them forever. If I can take my sisters with me I would consider myself the luckiest of all girls! The thought of leaving you and father is breaking my heart…’ she stopped, her voice tremulous. ‘How could our staying together harm us? Will marriage lessen our love for each other? No, Ma, it shall strengthen it further, as no one knows us better. We love each other too much for anything or anyone to come between us.’

‘And your husbands?’ Sunaina asked sharply. ‘If such a situation arises, and it will happen someday, sometime—before any one of you, where you are cornered into choosing between your husband and your sister, whom would you choose, dear?’

Sita looked perplexed. ‘But why would it happen? My love for my sisters and my love for my husband would never clash, for, besides myself, both of them realize how deeply we feel for each other. Both would know that I love them unconditionally and both would think twice before causing such hurt. They would, rather, try to avoid such a crisis—something I can be assured of from my sister but not from a stranger sister-in-law. Oh Ma, having a sister for a sister-in-law is a boon! Don’t ever worry about us. We shall look after each other beautifully, I assure you, I promise you!’

Sunaina smiled. ‘I don’t need your promise, dear. I am not doubting the affection you have for each other. It is the other way round. Will you be fair on your sister or your husband as the situation demands, or worse, will you be able to be fair on yourself for having to make that difficult choice?’

‘Don’t make it sound so ominous, Ma!’ cried Sita. ‘You are postulating a sequence of events which might or might not happen. I am confident they won’t; we won’t let it happen, shan’t we, Urmi? Oh Urmi, say something!’ she begged.

Urmila found herself at a loss of words. She wanted to say so much, her heart stirring with an uneasy intensity but she realized she agreed with both of them. Like Sita, she was certain of their love for each. But she could she drive away that unspoken fear that her mother was speaking of. Was this just their optimistic idealism speaking and would it hold true for the men? Would the brothers stand for each other and ignore their wives or would they be swayed by their love for their wives? The brothers collectively epitomised a transcendental bonding; would the sisters, as their wives, introduce a new polarity of authority and power? Just a few days ago, she had been put to test on the choice she would make. And unthinkingly, blindly, she had opted for Sita, not believing or trusting Lakshman. In one insane moment, she had believed the worst of him and within that decisive second, her love for him had evaporated into hatred, which had not hesitated to kill him with his own dagger. In those terrible moments, Urmila had experienced the dilemma which her mother was so fearful about, and like her mother, Urmila did not like what it portended.

‘What is to happen, shall unfold,’ she sighed. ‘Without intention, we are powerless in directing or determining what is to come. But in the present, let’s not analyse and doubt the intensity of our love. I simply pray that we have the strength and convictions to make the right choice were such a situation forced upon us. And if it does, let us be brave enough to face the consequences!’

Her mother gave her a strange look, but Urmila also detected a trace of sadness which she found disconcerting. ‘I am trying to warn you of what might await you, as a mother and above all, as a woman who has seen quite a few relationships change colour and conviction,’ remarked Sunaina dryly. ‘I know you well, girls. You are sensitive and sensible and I am so proud of you! I know you shall be strong enough to take the right decision and know how to live, and love.’