Week 4 Storytelling

Forest Sunlight, courtesy Wikimedia

Sometimes, an instant is just that. A moment. A fleeting glimpse of time, a half a thought, one breath, a blink. It's gone before it's had time to even exist, and by the time it crosses your mind, you're fourteen thoughts ahead of yourself, wondering how time passes and being all too aware of yourself and your hands and the tips of your toes and wondering how, how is it that life stretches so long but right now you can almost feel it slipping through your fingers. Gone. Like sand.

Sometimes, though, an instant is a lifetime in itself. 

Maybe it's a tense moment, a decision you have to make, maybe it's fear, maybe it's the last night you'll be here for a long time and you want to remember every detail, maybe you don't want to remember a thing. Time doesn't usually ask what you want, it just... Does. 

I remember an occurance, standing in front of my love, my loves, my people, my kingdom, my palace, and how time ground to a stop. I remember the looks on all their faces. Anguish. Rama, my boys, realizing what I was going to do, starting to break their strong stances and run towards me. I had months, though, years inside these few seconds. 

I'm one of the few that can confirm--when you're about to go, your life flashes before your eyes. It's a highlight reel, a sort of 'best of' film. Memories flashed before my eyes. 

Ravana's palace. Constant teasing, torture. Ten faces, staring at my own. Words, tearing into my heart, leaving wounds that wouldn't ever heal completely.

The deaths of the good men that followed Rama. Jatayu, sacrificing himself in a failed attempt to save me. 

Leaving Ayodhya as a newlywed, anxious about the future, but hopeful in following my king. 

Being torn from Rama in Ravana's hands, not knowing if Rama was coming for me, or even alive.

Running to Rama after being freed, relief written on my face, love spoken with my arms, warmth in my heart, and seeing none of the same in his eyes.

Nights spent alone. 

Feeling every inch, every second of distance between us. 

Leaving Rama a second time, for good, for the good of the kingdom. The bitterness I fought to keep from my heart for the people who ensured my departure. 

It seemed like my mind was bent on making this a painful journey. Rama had made it about a step closer at this point, but as the physical distance waned, there might have been a thousand oceans between our minds. Yet, as always, we were one. I saw the love in his eyes, the heartbreak he would face. I saw the good. If my heart could break any more at that point, I know it did.

The woods, the ashram. Cleaning, cooking, raising my boys. Seeing them grow into young men, unaware of their lineage, but happy, and humble. Knowing they would grow to be great, and more importantly, good.

Rama's ring, delivered to me, hope contained in an object. 

Days after we were exiled. Rama, being utterly useless when setting up camp. Lakshmana making fun of Rama for never learning how to build himself a shelter. Laughter, swatting and chasing each other with bamboo, thinking, 'maybe this will be okay'. 

Seeing the warmth return to Rama's eyes as I stepped out of the fire. Watching him dash towards me, sweep me up, and whisper, 'I never could have doubted you.'

Late nights, spent talking, giggling, hushed in the palace, and later, in our hut.

A kiss on the cheek. 

Two kids, catching the other's eye and knowing right then, at that second, that there'd never be another that lit the world up the way it was right that moment. 

Coming back to the present, I knew my eyes were wet and that if I didn't go then, I never would. There were sounds all around me, but I couldn't hear over the roar in my ears.

I stretched my arms out, looked to the sky, and pleaded. "Ma... Take me home."

In that last second, I knew Rama understood. If I had anything to do over again, I'd take those seconds. I'd live every moment given to me with him, and beg for more. It was all I had not to let the sob building in my chest escape, and just as it did... I was with Bhudevi. Five seconds, maybe? A hard life, maybe, but such a good one, and it was gone in the blink of an eye. Moments, often, are just that.

I never really understood distance until I couldn't go back.

*****

Author's note: 

This was the 'alternate ending' to the Ramayana, that was mentioned by Narayan, I believe, but not the generally favored one. I much preferred Narayan's ending, but honestly, after Sita's life in Sita: Daughter of the Earth, I didn't know what to think. Rama consistently questions if she's pure, and sure, he has a duty as king, but I'd believe that a king should set the example for his citizens, and not the other way around. Granted, Sita's story is a little different because she's the human reincarnation of a divine goddess, so death really doesn't work the same way for her as it does for the rest of everyone. The soundtrack to this writing was Even The Darkness Has Arms by The Barr Brothers. Now go read something happy, or look at this gif of a cat comforting her kitten. I actually set out to write a cute, funny story about how Rama was completely incapable of doing things like washing his own clothes and helping build things once they got into exile even though he's so good at everything else. Whoops. 

Also, just keep in mind that you're not a divine reincarnation of a goddess who is eternal/immortal, and if life ever seems this bad... It'll get better. There are resources out there for you.

Sita: Daughter of the Earth, by Saraswati Nagpal (2011). Web Source: Reading Guide.