It was a quiet day in Nandigram. A few months had passed since that fateful
day in Chitrakoot; the people of Avadh (and in the future, the rest of the
universe) would never be able to forget the unprecedented display of love and
devotion that occurred that day, the overwhelming wave of emotion that they
experienced had since faded into a seemingly endless routine. A routine of admiring their current ruler,
awaiting their future one, and wondering what sin they had committed because of
which this routine seemed to persist forever.
When would these days end?
Meanwhile, their ruler, too, was lost in thought. The nobles had no official edicts for him to
sign that day, nor any new act of charity to sponsor. He was left to himself, his lord's charan paduka, and his thoughts.
Often the thoughts that he had during such moments of
solitude were focused on his Ram Bhaiya.
Where must he, bhabhi, and Lakshman be at this very moment? Were they
comfortable there? Had any thorns dared to prick their sacred
feet on the way? Was he himself
fulfilling his Bhaiya's command satisfactorily?
Was there any shortcoming in how he was handling the kingdom on his
behalf, and was there anything more he could do to please him? Was
there anything more he could give up so
that he could trade away that pleasure in exchange for some of his
Bhaiya's
pain?
He would also be concerned about Mata Kaushalya and Mata
Sumitra. How were they dealing with the
absence of their sons? Was he doing
enough to console them during this difficult period? His own heart was
still in such a vulnerable
state after all that had transpired, that he wasn't sure how to go about
building up anyone else's courage just yet. Speaking of courage, what
about poor Urmila! Why hadn't he taken her along when they
journeyed to Chitrakoot, and how was she able to swallow her own pain to
provide comfort to the rest of the family during such long and difficult
days? He would have worried about
Mandavi and how she might be struggling to stay calm while he was here
with the
opportunities for solitude and reflection, and she was there amidst
responsibilities towards so many.
However, he was sure that with her dear sister Urmila by her side and
the much needed visit from the wise Mata Sunayana who she regarded just
the
same as her own mother, she had all the inspiration and support that she
needed
in order to stay dedicated to her duties.
Mothers seemed to have that reenergizing effect on their daughters -
reminding them of their responsibilities, and more importantly, the fact
that
they are more than capable of fulfilling them... just as the sacred bond
that
fathers share with their sons. A bond
that not too long ago, he shared with his own father...
... His father. That's
whom Bharat's thoughts went out to on this particular day. Of course, he missed all the moments of
laughter and life lessons and boundless affection that Pitashri left
behind. So much so that after having
undergone painstaking effort to convince a dwaarpal to give him a detailed
account of what he missed when he was away at "Maharani Kaikeyi's" maternal
home, he simply could not connect that description of bereft, shattered,
inconsolable Dashrath with the strong, smiling image of his father imprinted in
his mind.
But it was even worse than that. With much hesitation, the dwaarpal had
revealed to Bharat something that pierced his heart like shards of shattered
glass. Something that made the already
unbearable burden of guilt he carried due to Maharani Kaikeyi's actions weigh
thousands of times as more than before he knew it. As Ram Bhaiya left the city, his father said
certain words. The first of them were
addressed to Kaikeyi - he disowned her, just as Bharat had upon hearing of her
conduct, and this part he could understand.
But immediately after that, his father said that, "If Bharat returns and
sits on the throne begotten in this most treacherous manner, I shall disown him
as well, and I will not even accept the ancestral offerings he may make upon my
death!" Those words were just recently
revealed to Bharat, and they were what seized his thoughts today. Those words shattered his soul, and because
of them, no amount of counsel from great sages like Vashisht and Bharadwaj
could relieve him of his self-loathing.
His father actually doubted him, and left him before Bharat (or Ram
Bhaiya, on his behalf) could prove his innocence. He actually thought that in spite of having
such venerable ancestors and a father with such honor and integrity, his son
would succumb to greed, or even circumstances, and accept something verily
stolen from the one whom Bharat loved and worshipped with every fiber of his
being. The one whom he so loved was
traversing on paths of thorns, and sleeping on beds of grass, and residing
under roofs so delicate that the rain could dare to seep through them cause
him further discomfort. All of that,
because of the scheme that would give an undeserving and ignorant servant his
master's throne. And Bharat would be so
shameless as to accept it?
For his
father to even entertain such a doubt, Bharat was sure that he himself had
earned it. Maybe it was all of those
games during childhood, when Ram bhaiya would purposely let Bharat win and
Bharat would proudly accept the victory.
Maybe it was all the mischievous teasing that was in his nature,
compared to Ram bhaiya's eternal and unshakable serenity. Maybe it was his rivalry with Lakshman; since
he was the one fortunate enough to insist upon accompanying bhaiya, his loyalty
was proven and Bharat's left in question.
Or maybe, it was simply the stigma of being his mother's son. Whatever was the source of such a doubt,
today, its implications agonized Bharat to no end and caused him to doubt
himself as well. All the years filled
with joyous memories of his father's warmth and affection could have helped
Bharat overcome the grief of losing him, but the fact that he left with such
uncertainty regarding his son's character was a blow he couldn't
withstand. "Pitashri, if only once, you
could come back to me for even a few moments, so I could either regain your
love and trust or apologize for whatever I did to disqualify for it... please, please do
not let me burn this way any longer without your soothing embrace to give me
succor!" With this plea, Bharat dropped to his knees before the charan paduka of his lord and and sobbed
beyond control. In the midst of the storm of
tears, he must have fallen into a swoon...
... Because a little later on, something awakened him. A gentle hand rested on his shoulder, and by
its touch, half of Bharat's heartache seemed to heal. Bharat turned around and was taken aback by
what he saw: his late father, dressed in dazzling white garments with a twinkle
in his eyes and smiling countenance, just as he remembered it! He was surrounded with the sort of glow that
was supposedly characteristic of celestials, and judging by his lively
expression, one would never guess that any of the events of this tragic "kaand"
had actually occurred. At first, Bharat
blinked a few times to convince himself that this wasn't just a dream. When he realized that it wasn't, he parted
his lips in order to say something, but the words wouldn't escape them... he just
stood there, heart racing, breath ragged, tears streaming down his otherwise
blank face which couldn't decide which of the countless emotions overwhelming
him it should express first. It was his
father who opted to break the silence.
"What happened, my boy?
You were not exactly the quietest among your brothers, if I remember
correctly," he said with a grin.
Bharat couldn't help but crack a bit of a smile himself at
the pleasant memory that had just been revived for him, but he still didn't
know how to proceed because he was hardly sure what was going on. "I know, but I... but you... you were... and now... I
just... how can this be?" he finally managed to ask.
With a slight chuckle, Dashrath sat down beside his son
without removing his hand from his shoulder.
Seeing that Bharat's face was streaked with tears and his eyes a deep
red from shedding them, he nodded with compassion and used his other hand to
wipe them away. Then, he continued. "Well, it seems as if your asking how I could
be here, even after leaving my mortal body.
As it turns out, this new celestial body isn't bound by the old rules. Most people choose not take advantage of the
freedom, since even the heavenly pleasures up there don't last forever, and
they want to enjoy them to the fullest before having to return, but for me," he
paused and smiled at his still awestruck son, "for I who was blessed to be the
father of divine sons like you and your brothers, heavenly pleasure is simply
watching over and continuing to dote on you!" He tenderly stroked his son's
head.
Bharat sniffled as he tried to hold back the tears but
couldn't keep them from returning. "But
I don't deserve it! This was all my
fault... you went through so much sorrow because of me! I am to blame for this
whole tragedy. It's my fault, even you
know it is." He looked down, unable to
meet his father's gaze as he was so wrought with self-contempt.
This time it was the father whose eyes welled up. Such a humble son he had, who didn't even
have the slightest inkling of his own worth!
"Who said it's your fault, my son?
I haven't heard anyone say that, and if they did, it's their own loss
that they don't have the privilege of knowing you better."
"But... even you didn't believe in me before you left us, so
there must be some shortcoming, I
must be lacking in some way or you wouldn't have thought that I --"
Before he could complete the sentence, his father
interrupted, "I could never seriously have thought that, Bharat!" The
son was stunned. "Yes, I know what you were going to say,
because I heard your prayer." As he was
about to ask how, the father explained, "all prayers can be heard in
that
realm. Indra may wish to pay attention
to those of the demons who seek powers and threaten his position. I
only care for my position as a father and
thus want to know the wishes, fears, and concerns of my sons - whether I
am in
this realm, the next, or the ones beyond that.
In fact, I don't even wish to go to the ones beyond that after having
experienced the supreme bliss of loving God Himself as my sons. And
today, when I saw that you lost faith in
yourself because of something I said in the heat of the moment without
ever
intending any of it, I had to come back for you."
Bharat was once again at a loss for words. He let himself fall against his father and be
enveloped in his sturdy, reassuring embrace.
When he was finally able to do so, he began, "I didn't want any of this
to happen. In fact, I wouldn't even have
foreseen it in my worst nightmare. That
the queen would think I wanted a throne to whose true occupant I feel blessed
to be bound as a servant forever. That
he would be sent to suffer so that I could usurp it. That you would crumble in his absence and
leave us all behind. That everything
would be reduced to such irreparable ruins.
But it happened, all in the name of my happiness. I can't bear to live with that. If only you could take me with you, Pitashri!"
In a voice choked with emotion, the father said, "You have
such a soft and delicate heart, my boy! And I know exactly where you got
it. Oh well; at least there's something
of mine in you by which future generations can associate me with such
great
progeny." Bharat looked up and couldn't
contain how happy that made him. Of all
the praises being showered on him, the only one that mattered was this -
that
in spite of all that happened, he was still his father's son.
But still
greater words followed. The father firmly grasped his son's shoulders
and looked directly at him. "My son, I
know you are heartbroken over your mother's sins and are pained to even
think
that the woman who brought you into this world and nurtured you could
fall so
far. You even avoid thinking of her and
contemplate on everyone else instead, because deep down in your heart
you still
love her and consider her actions and their consequences to be your own.
Now listen to me. Give up this self-loathing. I do not fault you in
the remotest possible
way for any of it, nor for still loving her though you now deny it. In
fact, it makes me proud of you, that this
is who you are - one who loves so purely and empathizes so deeply with
one and
all.
In due time, Ram himself will help
you realize that this was all a game of destiny, and everything happened
for
the best so that future generations could follow the examples that all
participants in this game have set. Let
alone myself, not even the most ignorant of fools will doubt your
selfless love
for Ram which you demonstrated on that fateful day in Chitrakoot. In
fact, I think it to be greater than my
own, since you so love him that on his command you are able to wait for
him
more patiently than I could. Brothers in
future generations from any corner of the universe will forget all their
rifts
caused by self-interest when they contemplate on the brotherly love my
sons
share. It will function as a needle
pulling thread, mending all manmade divisions to bring about unity and
selflessness
in whomsever's mind it comes. This is my
hope, my belief, my undoubted conviction.
So go forth and do your duty as Ram intends, and know that your father
loves you very much."
They locked one another in one final embrace, after which
Bharat opened his eyes to see that his father had gone. And with him went all of the guilt, the
self-loathing, the pain, the helplessness, and the insufferable endlessness of
his longing. They were replaced with
courage, patience, a renewed clarity of and dedication to duty... and yes, if it
was possible, even more love.
Dashrath Nandan, Raghupati Priya Bharat Lal Ki Jai!
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