She had already decided that she would ask Jatayu for large quantities of the legendary Somras, the anti-ageing medicine created by the great Indian scientist, Brahma, many millennia ago. She would administer the medicine to Ram and herself to retain their vitality and youth in their fourteen years of exile. So that when they returned, they would be ready for the task ahead. Ready to change India.
She remembered a line she had read. A line supposedly spoken by Lady Varahi, the third Vishnu. India will rise, but not for selfish reasons. It will rise for Dharma … For the Good of all.
She looked at Ram and smiled.
Ram squeezed her hand. His horse snorted and quickened its pace. Ram pulled back the reins gently, keeping it in step with his wife’s steed.
Chapter 25
The two young couples sailed into the Ayodhya port to an overwhelming sight. It was as if all of Ayodhya had stepped out of their homes to greet them.
Sita had enjoyed her conversations with Ram during their journey. They had brainstormed on how best an empire can be organised for the good of the people. She had spoken about the concept that the state compulsorily adopt young children to break the evils of the birth-based caste system. Sita had not mentioned that she had grown to believe in the idea relatively recently; or that it was originally Vishwamitra’s idea. Ram did not like or trust the Maharishi. Why taint a good idea with that dislike? They had also spoken about the Somras mass-manufacturing technology developed by Guru Vashishtha. Ram believed that the Somras should either be made available to all or none. Since taking away the Somras might be difficult, he suggested that Vashishtha’s technology be used to make it available to all.
Enjoyable as those conversations had been, Sita knew they would probably not find the time to have more of them for a while. Ram had his work cut out in Ayodhya. To begin with, he had to ensure that he was not stopped from going on exile. And, of course, he also had to explain his marriage to the adopted princess of the powerless kingdom of Mithila. Jatayu had quipped to Sita, that had the Ayodhyans known that she was the Vishnu, they would have realised that Ram had married up! Sita had simply smiled and dismissed his observation.
Standing at the ship’s balustrade, Sita looked at the grand, yet crumbling, port of Ayodhya. It was several times larger than the Sankashya port. She observed the barricaded man-made channel that allowed the waters of the Sarayu River to flow into the massive Grand Canal that surrounded Ayodhya, the unconquerable city.
The canal had been built a few centuries ago, during the reign of Emperor Ayutayus, by drawing in the waters of the feisty Sarayu River. Its dimensions were almost celestial. Stretching over fifty kilometres, it circumnavigated the third and outermost wall of the city of Ayodhya. It was enormous in breadth as well, extending to about two-and-a-half kilometres across the banks. Its storage capacity was so massive that for the first few years of its construction, many kingdoms downriver had complained of water shortages. Their objections had been crushed with brute force by the powerful Ayodhyan warriors.
One of the main purposes of this canal was militaristic. It was, in a sense, a moat. To be fair, it could be called the Moat of Moats, protecting the city from all sides. Prospective attackers would have to row across a moat with river-like dimensions. The fools would be out in the open, vulnerable to a barrage of missiles from the high walls of the unconquerable city. Four bridges spanned the canal in the four cardinal directions. The roads that emerged from these bridges led into the city through four massive gates in the outermost wall: North Gate, East Gate, South Gate and West Gate. Each bridge was divided into two sections. Each section had its own tower and drawbridge, thus offering two levels of defence at the canal itself.
Even so, to consider this Grand Canal a mere defensive structure was to do it a disservice. It also worked as an effective flood-control mechanism, as water from the tempestuous Sarayu could be led in through control-gates. Floods were a recurrent problem in India. Furthermore, its placid surface made drawing water relatively easy, as compared to taking it directly from the feisty Sarayu. Smaller canals radiated out of the Grand Canal into the hinterland of Ayodhya, increasing the productivity of farming dramatically. The increase in agricultural yield allowed many farmers to free themselves from the toil of tilling the land. Only a few were enough to feed the massive population of the entire kingdom of Kosala. This surplus labour transformed into a large army, trained by talented generals into a brilliant fighting unit. The army conquered more and more of the surrounding lands, till the great Lord Raghu, the grandfather of the present Emperor Dashrath, finally subjugated the entire Sapt Sindhu; thus, becoming the Chakravarti Samrat or Universal Emperor.
Dashrath too had built on this proud legacy, conquering far and wide to become a Chakravarti Samrat as well. That was until the demon of Lanka, Raavan, destroyed the combined might of the Sapt Sindhuan armies at Karachapa around twenty years ago.
The subsequent punitive trade levies that Raavan had imposed on all the kingdoms of the Sapt Sindhu, and mostly on Ayodhya, had sucked the treasury dry. It showed in the crumbling grandeur of the Grand Canal and its surrounding structures.
Despite its obviously fading glory, Ayodhya overwhelmed Sita. The city was bigger than any other in the Sapt Sindhu. Even in its decline, Ayodhya was many times grander than her Mithila. She had visited Ayodhya in the past, but incognito. This was the first time she was visible to all. Being gawked at. Being judged. She could see it in the eyes of the nobles and citizenry standing at a distance, held back by the Ayodhya royal bodyguards.
The gangplank hit the port deck with a loud bang, clearing her mind of the profusion of thoughts. A rakishly handsome man was bounding up the plank. He was shorter than Ram but far more muscular.
This must be Bharat.
He was closely followed by a diminutive, immaculately attired man with calm, intelligent eyes. He walked with slow, measured steps.
Shatrughan …
‘Dada!’ hollered Bharat, as he ran up to Ram and embraced him.
Sita could see why Radhika had fallen for Bharat. He had obvious charisma.
‘My brother,’ smiled Ram, as he embraced Bharat.
As Bharat stepped back and embraced Lakshman, Shatrughan quietly embraced his eldest brother.
Within a flash, the four brothers were facing Sita and Urmila.
Ram held his hand out and said with simple pride, ‘This is my wife, Sita, and next to her is Lakshman’s wife, Urmila.’
Shatrughan smiled warmly and folded his hands together. ‘Namaste. It is an honour to meet both of you.’
Bharat smacked Shatrughan on his stomach. ‘You are too formal, Shatrughan.’ He stepped forward and embraced Urmila. ‘Welcome to the family.’
Urmila smiled, her nervousness dissipating a bit.
Then Bharat stepped towards his elder sister-in-law, Sita, and held her hands. ‘I have heard a lot about you, Bhabhi … I always thought it would be impossible for my brother to find a woman better than him.’ He looked at Ram, grinned and turned his attention back to her. ‘But my dada has always had the ability to manage the impossible.’