Now, dark thoughts coursed through Kaikeyi’s veins, stirred by the cunning words of Mandhara. “Mandhara,” Kaikeyi spoke, her voice laced with newfound resolve, “you weave tales of great wisdom, bolstering my spirit to face the formidable king. How I failed to recognize your brilliance before now! Your intelligence surpasses that of any mere servant, and your loyalty is worthy of the highest reward. Truly, you are my well-wisher, revealing the king’s hidden machinations. Flattery is your sharp weapon, but should this plot be laid bare, I know you will bear the burden at the forefront. Thus, my praises must be carefully sown.”
“Though flaws may mark your form, your countenance gleams with a light that sways like a lotus in the breeze, dancing upon rippling waves. Many are imperfect souls whose thoughts betray their forms, yet you stand apart, exuding a charm that captivates even men of valour. I shall adorn you with a jewelled girdle of diamonds and rubies, bangles etched with lion motifs, and a golden necklace encrusted with sapphires and emeralds. You deserve even more, for your cunning surpasses a seasoned strategist’s. Mandhara, once Bharata is crowned and Rama banished, a position befitting your shrewdness shall be yours. You will bear a golden tilak and be clad in the finest silks.”
Mandhara, now emboldened beyond measure, said, “You shine like a consuming fire. Go forth and make known to the king what is decreed.” Under the intoxicating influence of her maid’s words, Kaikeyi cast off her ornaments, donning garments that mirrored despair, and lay on the cold floor, with Mandhara. Thus, Kaikeyi prepared herself, resolute in Mandhara’s plotted course. “Tell the king,” She whispered with unwavering resolve, “that either Rama must be exiled, or my life shall end here. I seek no other gifts, only your obedience. You have taught me well; I trust your counsel will not fail. Tell him also that I have seen myself descending into the abyss in a dream.”
This breached all decorum, for no maid was ever to speak so freely in matters before the king, least of all in the queen’s presence. “Tell him I have taken neither food nor drink nor shall I bathe or care for myself, for I journey toward death’s door,” Kaikeyi declared. Thus began the grim play—Kaikeyi, dishevelled in wretchedness, and Mandhara, aflame with rage and worry for her queen’s fate.
The curtain was set to rise on this dreadful drama as King Dasharatha would soon come upon the scene. Here, joy twisted into sorrow, order unravelled into chaos, triumph poised on the brink of ruin. Fate’s hand moved inexorably, and even kings could not defy it. The foreboding air promised that the hour to come would be one of upheaval and despair.
