The Burning Queen

The Burning Queen

The Khopbhavan lived up to its name. It looked sad and daunting as if it absorbed the grief the kings of Ayodhya had caused their wives. In there lay the youngest and the third wife of King Dashrat, furious at her own fate, furious at the Gods for making her son second fiddle to her stepson Ram, jealous of Ram, jealous of his mother, Kaushlya. Her anger and jealousy were enough to cloud the happiness enveloping the city of Ayodhya, the happiness that after the mighty Dashrath, the benevolent Ram would be their king.

"What will you do when Ram makes some excuse and sends Bharat away and gets him killed?" Mantara's voice came back, the sadism in it plainly visible.

"Ram would never! He loves his brothers!" Kaikeyi had defended her stepson, her son, the child she had watched grow.

"I have seen brothers kill and sons rebel, all for the throne. The greed and ambition overpowers love." Manthara had answered, this time, looking into the queen's eyes, daring her to challenge her. The queen had looked down. She had heard many stories of brothers waging wars against each other in the neighboring kingdoms for the crown, and she understood greed.

As the announcer's voice boomed to make her aware of Dashrath's arrival, she gave herself one last look. Her hair was disheveled, the kohl adorning her eyes was smudged, and her saree was crumpled. She lay on the floor, her back to the door. 

"Speak, Queen of Kosala. How can I calm you down?"

Kaikeyi looked at him, her eyes narrow, ablaze with fire. She had heard the humor in his voice. Out of the three wives, Kaikeyi was the child, the one who needed pampering and constant assurance, and the two older queens had always been like mother figures, so she knew Dashrath had assumed it to be another temper tantrum. But she wasn't going to take the bait. She sighed and looked into his eyes, determination rising in her, egging her on that she was right and they all had failed her.

"When you asked for my hand in marriage, my father had asked you to promise me two boons I could ask of you anytime I want."

King Ashvpati knew that between two wives and the sons they would bear, his daughter would be lost in the palace of Ayodhya. To secure his daughter's future, he had asked the enamored King of Kosala for the two boons before marrying his daughter.

Dashrath sensed the tension seep through the walls of Khopbhavan. He straightened, his huge build towering over Kaikeyi.

"I want to ask those boons today."

Dashrath raised his hand, signaling her to continue.

"I want you to banish Ram for a vanvas of fourteen years and to announce Bharat as the crown prince."

An eerie silence took over the Khopbhavan. The walls seem to be closing on Dashrath, causing his breath to be stuck in his lungs. He blinked in surprise, unsure if he had heard his wife correctly.

"What?" He asked in shock, his upbringing to behave properly and like a royal forgotten in the moment. But she just stared at him, her palms together, back straight, and something dark covering her usually beautiful features.

As he looked down on Kaikeyi, darkness took over him, and he fell to the ground. Kaikeyi jumped in surprise, but the calmness that had shrouded her aided her in controlling her emotions. She waited patiently for her husband to regain his consciousness.

As Suryadev started descending to his home, Dashrath gained consciousness. He saw his wife sitting opposite him.

"I...I had a nightmare. I thought you asked me to banish Ram from the kingdom."

"I did." She answered emotionlessly.

"Kaikeyi!" Dashrath thundered, but Kaikeyi was unfazed as if she was expecting him to shout.

"You have to give me those boons, Your Highness, they are the basis of our marriage. You are known to keep your promises, you are the king, after all."

"How dare you! You are asking me to choose between my sons!"

"How dare I?" Kaikeyi yelled, stepping closer. In that second, Dashrath understood why they said that a woman's anger should be feared, because he saw a craze in Kaikeyi's eyes that he had never seen before.

"How dare you throw me and your son away, treat us like we are nothing for one son, one wife. You think you are the center of it all, and the one after you will be the center, while we have to watch you from the sidelines and cater to your whims and needs. I refuse to do so! I was refused the crown because of my gender. I will not refuse the chance to be the Kingmaker. I will make Bharat the King, and you promised me everything I would desire, so give me what I desire." She stood her ground as Dashrath stared helplessly at her. Suddenly, he looked aged, as if the world had given all his problems to him and asked him to shoulder them, and he was crumbling under the pressure.

Somdev and stars were twinkling in the sky when Dashrath said softly. "So be it, Kaikeyi, but remember, the world will hate you, your Bharat will hate you, you will know what pain is, what I am feeling right now, what Ayodhya will feel when I make the announcement."

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It had been almost a month since Ram, Sita, and Laxman had left for Vanvas. 

Kaikeyi herself had tried to stop the young princess. "The jungle isn't for you, my dear."

"Anywhere my Swami is, that place is for my home, Mother. Please take care." Sita had humbly joined her hands in a namaste. 

The anger in Laxman's eyes had made Kaikeyi wince. She had remembered the toddler with his lisp who would come running to her, and sit in her lap and show off the mangoes he had stolen from the kitchens. But what shook her the most was Ram. He had smiled at her, his innocent smile that could charm even the Gandharavs, and asked for her blessings.

"Mother!" She looked up in surprise at Bharat, who was a living image of Agni Dev.

"What did you do?" He asked.

"Bharat! I am so happy to see you. How was your stay with your uncle Yudhajit?"

"How could you banish Ram Bhaiya? What did Sita Bhabhi do to deserve such horrors from you? What did Father to do deserve all this? He is sick with grief! Why did you do this?"

"I did it for you Bharat. I did it because I love you..." She stepped closer to him to hold him, but he pushed her. When she winced in shock, his eyes softened in guilt, but then, as if covered with the fire of hatred, they went big.

"Love? This isn't love, Mother! This is greed! You are burning with greed and jealousy. Please don't call it love because you are insulting every mother out there."

"Bharat, don't speak to your mother like that!" Kaikeyi snapped. Ungrateful brat! Had he not realized what she had done for him, for Mandavi, his children?

"You aren't my mother. I see a stone here. Your heart has hardened like a rigid stone, Queen of Kosala, and a woman without a heart cannot be my mother." He walked out of her chambers before she could fathom his words.

"Bharat!" The palace of Ayodhya thundered with the wails of a mother.

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"Mother!" After fourteen years, Ram's gentle voice called out to her, and suddenly, her heart ached. She hadn't been called a mother in the last fourteen years. She was called the devil, the vile woman who killed her husband, an abomination, but not a mother.

As Ram bent to touch her feet, Sita was next to him, it was like someone drenched her with water, washing away her pain. It was like she had been burning for fourteen years and had finally found a lake of calm water, Somras itself, to quench her thirst, to heal her wounds.

She felt like a wandered stuck in desert of hatred and greed, and had finally found a lake. Her rage was finally cooled down. The mother in her had taken over the raging queen and calmed her down.