‘I have argued with my brother all my life about his faith in the Masculine way. I always thought that the Masculine way will inevitably lead to fanaticism and violence. But you have opened my mind in just one conversation.’
‘Seriously, can you say that the Feminine way never degenerates? The only difference, Bharat, is that it deteriorates differently. The Masculine way is ordered, efficient and fair at its best, but fanatical and violent at its worst. The Feminine way is creative, passionate and caring at its best, but decadent and chaotic at its worst. No one way of life is better or worse. They both have their strengths and weaknesses.’
‘Hmmm.’
‘Freedom is good, but in moderation. Too much of it is a recipe for disaster. That’s why the path I prefer is that of Balance. Balance between the Masculine and the Feminine.’
‘I think differently.’
‘Tell me.’
‘I believe there is no such thing as too much freedom. For freedom has, within itself, the tools for self-correction.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. In the Feminine way, when things get too debauched and decadent, many who are disgusted by it, use the same freedom available to them, to revolt and speak out loud. When society is made aware, and more importantly, is in agreement, reforms will begin. No problem remains hidden in a Feminine society for too long. But Masculine societies can remain in denial for ages because they simply do not have the freedom to question and confront their issues. The Masculine way is based on compliance and submission to the code, the law. The questioning spirit is killed; and with that, the ability to identify and solve their problems before they lead to chaos. Have you ever wondered why the Mahadevs, who had come to solve problems that nobody else could, usually had to fight whoever represented the Masculine force?’
Sita rocked back. She was startled into silence, as she considered what Bharat had said about the Mahadevs. Oh yes … He’s right …
‘Freedom is the ultimate answer. Despite all the uncertainties it creates, freedom allows regular readjustment. Which is why, very rarely does a problem with the Feminine way become so big that it needs a Mahadev to solve it. This magical solution is simply not available to the Masculine way. The first thing it suppresses is freedom. Everyone must comply … Or, be kicked out.’
‘You may have a point. But freedom without laws is chaos. I’m not sure …’
Bharat interrupted his sister-in-law, ‘I am telling you, Bhabhi. Freedom is the ultimate silver arrow; the answer to everything. It may appear chaotic and difficult to manage on the surface. I agree that laws can be flexibly used to ensure that there isn’t too much chaos. But there is no problem that cannot ultimately be solved if you grant freedom to a sufficiently large number of argumentative and rebellious people. Which is why I think freedom is the most important attribute of life, Bhabhi.’
‘More important than the law?’
‘Yes. I believe there should be as few laws as possible; enough just to provide a framework within which human creativity can express itself in all its glory. Freedom is the natural way of life.’
Sita laughed softly. ‘And what does your elder brother have to say about your views?’
Ram walked up to them from behind and placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders. ‘His elder brother thinks that Bharat is a dangerous influence!’
Ram had gone to his wing of the palace and had been told that his wife was in the royal gardens. He had found her deep in conversation with Bharat. They had not noticed him walk up to them.
Bharat burst out laughing as he rose to embrace his brother. ‘Dada …’
‘Should I be thanking you for entertaining your bhabhi with your libertarian views?!’
Bharat smiled as he shrugged. ‘At least I won’t convert the citizens of Ayodhya into a bunch of bores!’
Ram laughed and said, tongue in cheek, ‘That’s good then!’
Bharat’s expression instantly transformed and became sombre. ‘Father is not going to let you go, Dada. Even you know that. You’re not going anywhere.’
‘Father doesn’t have a choice. And neither do you. You will rule Ayodhya. And you will rule it well.’
‘I will not ascend the throne this way,’ said Bharat, shaking his head. ‘No, I will not.’
Ram knew that there was nothing he could say that would ease Bharat’s pain.
‘Dada, why are you insisting on this?’ asked Bharat.
‘It’s the law, Bharat,’ said Ram. ‘I fired a daivi astra.’
‘The hell with the law, Dada! Do you actually think your leaving will be in the best interests of Ayodhya? Imagine what the two of us can achieve together; your emphasis on rules and mine on freedom and creativity. Do you think either you or I can be as effective alone?’
Ram shook his head. ‘I’ll be back in fourteen years, Bharat. Even you just conceded that rules have a significant place in a society. How can I convince others to follow the law if I don’t do so myself? The law must apply equally and fairly to every single person. It is as simple as that.’ Then Ram stared directly into Bharat’s eyes. ‘Even if it helps a heinous criminal escape death, the law should not be broken.’
Bharat stared right back, his expression inscrutable.
Sita sensed that the brothers were talking about a sensitive issue. Things were getting decidedly uncomfortable. She rose from the bench and said to Ram, ‘You have a meeting with General Mrigasya.’
Sita and her entourage were in the market. She didn’t intend to buy anything. She had come out of the palace to give one of her guards the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. Had he left from the palace compound, his movements would have been tracked. But here, in the crowded marketplace, no one would miss one bodyguard from the large posse that guarded Sita.
From the corner of her eye, Sita saw him slip into a tiny lane that led out of the market. He had been ordered to arrange a meeting with Jatayu the following day.
Satisfied that her message would be delivered, Sita walked towards her palanquin to return to the palace. Her path was suddenly blocked by a grand palanquin that appeared out of nowhere. Covered with gold filigree, it was an ornate bronze litter with silk curtains covering the sides. It was obviously a very expensive and comfortable palanquin.
‘Stop! Stop!’ A feminine voice was heard from inside the curtained litter.
The bearers stopped immediately and placed the palanquin down. The strongest of the attendants walked to the entrance, drew aside the curtain and helped an old woman step out.
‘Namaste, princess,’ said Manthara, as she laboriously came to her feet. She folded her hands together and bowed her head with respect.
‘Namaste, Lady Manthara,’ said Sita, returning her greeting.