Kaikeyi

by Vaishnavi Patel

Regardless of birth position, Yudhajit, being a boy, was the heir to the Kekaya kingdom. I was but a dowry of fifty fine horses waiting to happen.

The people of Bharat have often blamed my father for my sins, as if a woman cannot own her actions.

I had no idea how to take on any of my mother’s responsibilities, nor did I have any desire to.

Please, bring my mother back. Please, grant me the knowledge I need in her absence.

They would understand that a girl needed her mother. Who else could show me how to make my way through this world? Without her I was alone.

tale of the gods and the asuras together churning the Ocean of Milk, seeking in its depths the nectar of immortality.

I had often doubted whether she even liked me, her only daughter.

but I still held within me the memory of the steady presence of my mother, the feeling that we shared something.

I pulled a small box of sweets from under my bed and ate one, then another and another. Slowly my anger dissipated, the sugar softening the hard knot within me. I licked my fingers clean.

Boons were powerful gifts, granted by the gods to those mortals who had won their favor through their piety or goodness or courage, after they prayed and fasted and performed intricate rituals. People who received boons rarely discussed them, as they did not wish to lose their gifts

often felt lonely, with only my mother’s quiet coolness and brothers who could not fully understand me for company. But here was proof that I was not alone.

But despite this, I knew of no rites for Nidra, no prayers or festivals for her. She was forgotten, as I was.

Binding Plane or the strange, shimmering threads.

But only I was forced to endure weekly instruction in the arts, for princes were not expected to learn such gentle crafts—embroidery and weaving, painting and so on.

had been instilled in us that the gods required prayer and sacrifice, a life lived according to dharma and moral virtue.

he would flop onto the ground and complain about the difficulty in teaching a girl such things, and I would give up, tired by my brief lesson and the strain of using the Plane to convince him to do something he did not want to do.

I often wondered, as our horses flew across the fields, as their hooves kicked up dust from sun-warmed earth and their breath dissipated into the cooling air, if they remembered where they came from. If they longed for more, for the vast expanse of the skies. Perhaps we were kin, they and I, yearning for something unnameable, a place where we could stretch our wings and belong.

although he had little idea what the men of the palace really did when they were not out fighting.

Rakshasas were demons, though not as powerful as asuras.

Sarasvati prized intelligence above all else, and for this reason I had prayed to her daily as a young girl.

White elephants were incredibly rare, and even seeing one at a distance was considered a great blessing.

“Good boy,” my father said.

Bias

You have done well, my son. I will think on how to reward you.”

Im pissed

He walked away, not even waiting for me as I stood there dumbfounded. No thanks for saving him at the stream or covering our disobedience, not even an apology for Father’s oversight. But then, this was the way of the world to Yudhajit. And standing there, I knew that I would never truly grow accustomed to

i'm angry lol

“I ask you for knowledge of my gift. Why do I have it? What am I meant to do with it?”

Each year, we burned an effigy of the Holika, a wicked asura who had tried to immolate her devout nephew alive. Burning the effigy would cleanse our kingdom and bring a good harvest.

The scroll ended there, and I knew there was no redemption for Ahalya—the gods would help Indra but never a woman who had slept with another man. It ate at me, for how was Ahalya to have known? The fault was Indra’s from start to finish. Gautama could have chosen to understand and forgive her. But neither gods nor men had such mercy.

If a woman crafted by the gods themselves could be consigned to this fate, what hope was there for a woman born of a woman?

Ashvin acted nothing like how I would have behaved had I had the privilege of being a boy, but then again, most boys knew nothing of their incredible luck.

“You are already sixteen, and it is time to speak of your marriage, Kaikeyi.” He finally lifted his head to look at me. “I should have arranged it years ago, but I thought your brothers needed you here, in your mother’s place.”

She is always a wife, mother or sister

“But now I’ve realized your influence is making them soft,”

“You wrestle in the dirt, you like weapons and fast horses, you’re smart,” Yudhajit listed off. “I’d say you’re more man than woman.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s idiotic. Women can be all of those things. Intelligence doesn’t make me less of a woman, and I would think that you knew that.” The contentment faded. His words hurt, more than I could tell him. “Don’t take offense,” Yudhajit said. “It’s a compliment. Who wants to be a woman?” The words were callous, careless, a joke. He was my brother, my twin, and I thought at the very least he believed me his equal.

“I want to live my life freely,” I said at last, and that much was true. “I do not want the life my mother had.” “That is more a matter of choosing the right husband.”

Yudhajit snapped, turning around. “You have a responsibility to your family.” “I have fulfilled the duties of the woman of the household,” I all but shouted at him. “I raised our brothers. I have helped make our court one that is widely known, admired even, in our region. Please, tell me how I have not yet fulfilled my responsibility to my family.”

“One day, I will be the raja,” he said, as if that in and of itself was an achievement rather than a birthright.

“If I marry him, I will be his third radnyi, and the youngest. He has asked for me because he remains childless.”

They laid an ornate ruby necklace around my throat in an attempt to draw attention away from my too-wide shoulders.

When I looked in the mirror, I was surprised that I could still recognize myself. But all of my features were slightly altered, my eyes larger, my mouth more… noticeable. The drape of the sari pallu brought out my curves. For previous appearances at feasts and important occasions, I had been dressed well, but as one would dress a child, with little face paint and simple jewelry. But now—I looked like the other noblewomen of the court. And, with a jolt, I realized I looked a bit like my mother. She had been considered very beautiful, and I could see that maybe, accentuated by all this finery, I could be too.

I should bear you a son, he will be named your heir, regardless of any other sons you may have in the future. I may be your third wife, but my child will be first.”

Manthara had helped me through my first moon cycle, and more recently had explained the mechanics of the acts Dasharath would expect from me, but she had never actually been married. If Manthara had done such things herself, she could never say, and so I could not ask her my real questions. But perhaps I could have asked my mother: Did you feel the same disinterest contemplating such matters as I did?

When he asked me if I thought Dasharath was a good match, I encouraged it. For you. He is a good man. He will take care of you.” “You encouraged it?” There was a familiar coldness in my voice, a tone that belonged not to me but to my father. “I thought it was your best choice,” he said quietly. “But I didn’t choose. You chose! That’s not a choice.”

THERE ARE THOSE WHO would blame Manthara for what I did, claim that she forced me to take her to Ayodhya and manipulated me from there. But my choices were my own, and to pull Manthara’s name down with mine would be quite simply cruel. Because without Manthara’s continued presence by my side, I would never have ridden off to battle or saved the king, and Kosala would have fallen, heirless, into the depths of time.

One was done in such vibrant hues of blue and green that I had to pause to look more closely. It was an image of a great fish pulling a boat, and I recognized the story of Matsya and Manu.

It was fitting to see this tapestry here, for legend tells that when Manu descended from the mountains, he founded the first city of men—Ayodhya.

“You honor me. I am sure you have more important matters to attend to.” “The happiness of my wife is one of the most important matters I can think of.” He gave me a small smile.

It would have been so nice to have someone guide me, to tell me who and what I needed to know. And yet, would she not think me weak for admitting so? “Perhaps,” I said, hoping not to seem too eager. I was desperate for her to think of me as independent.

For although I had no appetite for such things, I pretended to, and he pretended to care about what I felt, using his body and, on a few occasions, his tongue. In a way, I was thankful that I had a kind husband, one who at least wished for my pleasure as well as his. I knew I could have done far worse than this.

In that moment, I felt like the old Kaikeyi, who had convinced her brother to teach her to fight and had negotiated the terms of her marriage. I could see myself again, just within reach.

Wake up call

Pretty words, flattery. Such things may have been the art of women, but they were the weakness of powerful men.

You are not the most skilled I have ever seen, but you are certainly the most determined.