B R Chopra Ramayan - Page 31

image and sentence formation credit to chat gpt

🌸 The Balcony of Compassion

From the carved stone balcony above, Mandavi and Shrutakirti watched in silence. The evening breeze lifted the ends of their silk sarees, glinting gold and red in the fading light.

Below them, their husbands — Bharat and Shatrughna — sat close together, framed by the soft glow of lamps being lit across Ayodhya. The brothers’ bond, the unspoken ache between them, was something both women had come to understand deeply — and quietly carry with them.

Mandavi’s fingers tightened around the cool stone railing. Her eyes, steady and calm, followed Bharat’s bowed head.

“He still blames himself,” she whispered.

Shrutakirti nodded, her gaze lingering on Shatrughna’s gentle smile as he tried to lift his brother’s spirits. “And my husband still refuses to rest until he does.”

A faint laugh escaped Mandavi. “That is his way. He has always been his shadow — strong when lord cannot be, fierce when he will not.”

Shrutakirti’s smile softened. “And together, they are whole.”

The two women stood for a long while, saying nothing more. Below, Shatrughna leaned closer to Bharat, murmuring something that finally drew a small, reluctant smile from him. The sight filled both wives with a quiet peace — as if the burden of their husbands’ hearts had, for one brief moment, lightened.

Mandavi lowered her eyes and whispered a prayer — not for kingdoms or glory, but for healing. For all four of them.

Shrutakirti reached out, resting her hand over Mandavi’s. “Someday,” she said softly, “they will laugh again — not out of duty, but from the heart.”

Mandavi smiled faintly, the setting sun catching in her eyes like tears she would not let fall. “Yes. Until then,” she said, looking down once more, “we will keep their hearts warm.”

As dusk deepened into night, the lamps below flickered brighter, casting soft halos around the two brothers. And from above, two women watched — steady, patient, their love a quiet flame that never wavered.

---

please share your views

I liked the twin perspectives of the same story from different characters it was nice.

Originally posted by: cuteamanboy

image and sentence formation credit to chat gpt

---

🌙 The Bond Between Two Brothers

The sun had begun its slow descent over Ayodhya, painting the palace terraces in molten gold. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and lotus from the courtyard ponds.

On one such terrace sat Bharat, his brow furrowed, a scroll forgotten beside him. His thoughts were elsewhere — far away, with his elder brothers in the forest. The ache in his heart was quiet but constant, like a wound that never fully healed.

A soft sound of footsteps approached.

“Brother,” came a voice, light and warm. Shatrughna — the youngest, his eyes bright as dawn — stood holding two cups of warm milk. “You haven’t eaten since morning.”

Bharat looked up, trying to smile. “I wasn’t hungry.”

“You always say that when your heart is heavy,” Shatrughna replied, setting one cup beside him. He sat down, shoulder brushing Bharat’s, unbothered by the silence that hung between them.

For a while, they said nothing. Only the faint hum of evening crickets and the flutter of palace flags filled the air. Then, Shatrughna spoke softly, “You miss them again, don’t you?”

Bharat’s throat tightened. “Every day. I cannot bear the thought that they suffer because of me.”

Shatrughna turned sharply, eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare say that. None of this was your doing. You’ve carried the weight of another’s mistake with too much grace already.”

Bharat’s lips trembled into a faint smile. “You always defend me, even when I am wrong.”

“I don’t defend you,” Shatrughna said, his tone gentle but firm. “I believe in you.”

There was silence again — but this time, it was full. Full of love, of unspoken promises, of the quiet strength only brothers share.

After a moment, Shatrughna nudged him playfully. “Drink your milk before it cools. If you fall sick, who will I follow around and scold all day?”

Bharat laughed — a soft, rare sound that eased something deep within Shatrughna’s chest.

As the last light of day faded into the indigo of night, the two brothers sat side by side, watching the stars appear — silent guardians of their bond.

And in that quiet, beneath the vast Ayodhya sky, their hearts whispered what words never needed to say:

“I am with you. Always.”

---

That's Nice