TWO PROMISES REVIVED (PART-6)

"I want to know everything," said Vasishtha emphatically.She hastened to say, "Of course, you are our spiritual mentor and guide and you have every right to demand an explanation." While she spoke, Vasishtha saw Kausalya writhing and squirming, and Dasaratha stirring. Dasaratha was evidently aware of what was going on in the room though unable to take part in the conversation. Lest either of them should begin to say things at cross-purposes with her,Kaikeyi said, "Your wisdom sustains us, sir. You will realize that nothing untoward has happened. Before I had even spoken fully, Rama understood and agreed. It's the others who are making all this fuss. Rama has surrendered his right to the throne in favor of Bharatha, and will stay away in the forest for fourteen years. It's a thing that concerns primarily himself, and he has accepted it without a word, with much grace. But these others think …" She swept her arm to indicate several hostile persons.Vasishtha understood, but still asked, "What is the cause of this change?"Kaikeyi, whose good manners had reached their limit,now said, "If my husband will speak, he can—otherwise please wait. Just tell those assembled that there is a change in the programme."

"That we will see later," said Vasishtha. "First we must revive the King." He stooped over the King lying on the couch, gently lifted his head, and helped him to sit up. "We need you, Your Majesty. You are our lord and captain. What is to happen if you are withdrawn like this?"The King went on mumbling, "Kaikeyi, Kaikeyi …"Vasishtha said, "The Queen, Kaikeyi, is most considerate.

She will do nothing that goes against your wishes. I am sure she will be obliging and helpful. There has been no opportunity to discuss these questions with her Majesty, our immediate concern being your welfare." Kaikeyi listened passively to this hopeful statement by Vasishtha.

Dasaratha, clutching at a straw of hope, asked, "Does she relent? If she does, Rama will be King; and as to my promise, let her ask for any other fulfillment she may think of… ."

Relieved to find the King improving, Vasishtha turned to Kaikeyi and appealed to her with all the humility he could muster in his tone. "Everything is in your hands… . Please consider yourself as the benefactress of humanity. The whole world will be grateful to you for your help. Please reconsider."

Kaikeyi became emotional: "If one cannot depend on the promise of a famous king," she hissed, "life is not worth living. After all, I have done nothing more than ask for the fulfillment of his own voluntary promise, and you talk as if I had committed a crime!"

"You do not realize the evil consequences of your act, nor are you willing to listen and understand when we try to explain. Your obstinacy is inhuman," said Vasishtha. When

she appeared unaffected, he went on: "The King's tongue never uttered the words of exile; you have passed this on as his own command, knowing that Rama would never question

the truth of it. You have used your position as his favorite queen."

No matter how he argued and persuaded, Kaikeyi held her ground with cynical calm. "Oh, Guruji, you too talk like these ignorant, self-centered people who find fault with me without understanding."

Finally the King burst out, "Oh, devilish one, you ordered him into exile! Is he gone? In seeking you as a mate, I sought my death. Those cherry-red lips I thought sustained me, but they have only been a source of the deadliest poison to finish me off now. This sage be my witness. You are no longer my wife, and your son shall not be entitled to cremate me when I die." Kausalya, when she saw her husband's plight, was most moved and tried to comfort him in her own way. Concealing her own misery at the prospect of Rama's exile, she told her husband clearly, "If you do not maintain the integrity and truth of your own words, and now try to hold Rama back, the world will not accept it. Try to lessen your attachment to Rama and calm yourself."

The King was not appeased by her advice. "The holy water from Ganga brought for ablution during the coronation will now serve me for my last drink; the holy fire raised will serve to light my funeral pyre. Rama, Rama, don't go. I take back my word to Kaikeyi… . How can I bear to see you go? I will not survive your departure. If I lived after your departure, what would be the difference between me and that monster in wife's shape—Kaikeyi?" Thus and in many other ways,Dasaratha lamented.

Vasishtha said, "Do not grieve… . I will see that your son is persuaded to stay back." Dasaratha had become so weakened in will that he clung to this hope when he saw the sage depart. Kausalya comforted the King by saying, "It is quite likely Vasishtha will come back with Rama." She tenderly lifted him, nursed him, and stroked his head and shoulder. He kept repeating, "Will Rama come? When? How terrible that Kaikeyi, whom I loved so much, should contrive my death so that she may place Bharatha on the throne!" Silence for a while, but once again all his lamentations and fears would return redoubled.

"Kausalya, my dearest wife, listen. Rama will not change his aim, but definitely go away, and my life will end. You know why? It's an old story.

"Once while I was hunting in a forest, I heard the gurgling of water—the noise an elephant makes when drinking water.

I shot an arrow in that direction, and at once heard a human cry in agony. I went up and found that I had shot at a young boy. He had been filling his pitcher; and water rushing into it

had created the noise. The boy was dying and told me that his old parents, eyeless, were not far away. He had tended them, carrying them about on his back. They died on hearing

of this tragedy, after cursing the man who had killed their son to suffer a similar fate. And so that is going to be my fate… ."

When Rama's exile became known, the kings and commoners assembled at the hall broke down and wept; so did the religious heads and ascetics. Men and women wept aloud; the parrots in their cages wept, the cats in people's homes; the infants in their cradles, the cows and calves.

Flowers that had just bloomed wilted away. The water birds, the elephants, the chargers that drew chariots—all broke down and lamented like Dasaratha himself, unable to bear

the pang of separation from Rama. What a moment ago had been a world of festivities had become one of mourning.