The Story of a Princess-11

As days passed by, I felt more and more at home in Ayodhya. The people loved us, and I think they even looked forward to Ram as their future ruler. We tried, as much as possible, to keep in touch with them. This meant travelling all the while, living sometimes in palaces and sometimes in tents, sometimes going without sleep and sometimes without food, but we loved this life. The feeling of togetherness that Ram, Laxman and I developed is indescribable.

Ram and I had been in love for a very long time, but with these tours, we also became the best of friends. I came to know about different aspects of Ram's personality, his infinite compassion, his dedication to his people, his sense of right and wrong, of justice, his stubbornness in refusing to accept what he knew to be wrong, the respect that he gave everyone around him, even though he was their prince and they were ordinary people. Of course, I was already familiar with this last trait. This was part of the reason why I fell in love with him in the first place. He never looked down upon anyone and never saw anyone as his inferior, merely because of social position, or age, or, in my case, gender. 

With him I never felt constrained. I could speak my mind, attend and participate in meetings, practice archery and swordsmanship, talk to anyone I wanted to talk to. All this was huge for women at that time. I asked him once why he felt so disinclined to follow traditions. "Aryavartta wasn't always like this, Sita",he said,"What you see as traditions aren't really our traditions. If we were truly following our traditions then women in Aryavartta would have been freer than they are now, perhaps even freer than you are right now."

As I looked at him in surprise, he continued,"Barely till a hundred years ago, till my great-grandfather's time, I guess, women were considered as being equal to men in all respects. They were even worshipped in many forms like Durga and Kali. Gradually, for some reason that I don't completely understand yet, their standing in society declined, till they became what you see now- birds caged in traditions, bound by culture. Sita, I am sorry. I am so very sorry."

I was confused. What was he apologising for?

"I try a lot, but I still can't give you the respect that you deserve. I hate the fact that your freedom is so dependent on me being alive. You will be caged like all the others, like my mothers, when I die..."

"Please, if you love me, don't ever say that again. Nothing will happen to you."

"Sita, be practical. I am bringing a war upon myself, a war against Ravan and all that he stands for. It is extremely likely that something will."

"Well, Ram, perhaps you are forgetting that I am fighting that war right alongside you. God forbid, but if something were to happen to you, Sita will die with you in the same battle."

He put his hand on my cheek, and I realized that I had started crying. "Some warrior you will be, crying like this!", he joked, but his voice was shaky. Suddenly we were both thinking about a not very much impossible future.

While the bonding between Ram and me became stronger than ever, I developed a different kind of relationship with Laxman. He was this combination of a kid brother, a son and a friend to me, and I am glad the feeling was mutual. For appearances' sake, like in the royal palace of Ayodhya, in front of my father-in-law and his Council-men, we maintained a very formal relation. But in front of the common people of Ayodhya, and while the three of us were alone, we came back to our normal selves.

This was necessary, this deception, because from what we had seen of the Council and the King, Laxman would have been separated from us if they came to know that he was so close to me. Neither Ram nor I could bear the thought of not having Laxman around. The respect that he gave us and the love he evoked in our hearts are beyond belief. Moreover, his quick wit always kept the atmosphere lively. He also had a very strong sense of justice, much like Ram and me, but with a little more anger.

Once we came upon a village that had been destroyed in an attack from beyond the border, just the night before. From what we'd heard, the attackers were a small group, not more than fifteen. So Ram asked Laxman to take a few men and go after them. This was the first time he was commanding a mission. It would have been natural for him to show off by taking too few, or too many, men. But it would have jeopardized his mission and the culprits could escape. For Laxman, at that moment, catching those people was the most important thing in the world. The destruction he'd seen in the village had caused him a lot of pain. He would never let petty pride stand in his way of delivering justice. He took twelve people, just the right number to  defeat them in combat, and to not become a burden in the chase. 

He brought most of the murderers back alive. I was amazed at his self-restriant. To be Laxman, to have seen the brutality with which the poor villagers were murdered by these gutless goons, and to still have resisted the urge to kill them in battle, to bring them to the court of Ram to get justice, this kid was growing up! 

I was looking at him and thinking all this, and I guess my thoughts must have shown on my face, because he said,"What?! They surrendered! I had no choice but to bring them back alive. You know I don't have Ram's self-control!" 

I laughed. Laxman was still Laxman.