A/N-I do this for lakshmila4ardi, who said she wanted a Part 6 for some reason? Jeez, these Character Drabbles are so fun! Besides, I'm not quite ready to kill off Trishira and the rest of them, so here you go! One more thing. These drabbles always end up deep (as they are meant to be), so the next couple chapters I will try to make them light and airy!

Nal "The Builder"

If Nal was a god, he would be Lord Brahma. Well, that was a little pompous, sure, but it was true. He created things. He nurtured ingredients such as metal, wood, and iron, and molded them into something new. This was his speciality, making something new, for the universe was always wanting of something, anything, and builders like him would always be in demand. He would always have to continue building, and if anything, that kept him content.

When had he first recognized this talent for building, for nurturing and expanding? Well, it all started when he was five years old and had just met Neel. They had decided to make a stage play, a nice little stage play for his younger sister, Jal to watch and clap at, (the useless girl), and what they needed was a palace. Nal and Neel knew Angad, the prince of Kishkindha, lived in palace, and so they were about to walk down the pathway to the giant looming structure at the end of the dusty road when Nal suddenly halted. "Do you think Raja Vali would be very happy if we accidentally broke something? What if we ruined a family heirloom?"
Neel, being the clumsy, yet optimistic idiot that he was, shook his head and crossed his arms proudly. "I won't break anything, Nal!" He waved his arms around as if to confirm it, and knocked over a brass pot. It clattered on the floor like a cowbell, and they stared at it as it rolled around on the marble floor, before Neel picked it up, staring at the floor. "No scratches!" He declared excitedly. "It didn't make any scratches!"
"What if that were a glass vase?" Nal shrieked, grasping at wisps of his hair as he grabbed the pot quickly from Neel and placed it on the table counter delicately. "No, what we need to do is make a palace right here," he paused, suddenly struck with a flash of inspiration. "Wait here, Neel." And with that, he ran off to gather mud and water excitedly, leaving a confused Neel in the middle of the hallway, frozen.

What had been an expedition to just gather materials became an hour. And then another. Finally Neel unfroze, straightening his limbs with a groan, and decided that he would go off on a search for Nal, the mysterious and currently-probably-kidnapped friend of his. But lo and behold! Neel found a castle fit for a prince in their front courtyard, and behind it, fixing a crack in the dried mud with a red clay mixture, stood a very focused Nal.

Nal soon discovered that he could build more than palaces. He could build swings and vases and weapons. He could build bridges. For the first time, as he set that rock down, as it floated in the water, he felt as if he was coming to some good use. He was doing something to the world, he was helping someone great. Prabhu Shri Ram would be the goal of his life, his devotion, his reason! For some reason, this man he had met only months ago had struck a deeper cord in his soul than any other being he had ever met.

-----O-----

Nal soon realized that he could build things greater than out of his hands. He could nurture other things, he could bend and twist things like emotions, friendship, relationships, love. The second he saw his best friend, akin to a brother, glancing at Jal, he knew what it was. It was something more than the friendly teasing which they both troubled and traumatized with every day. Could it be that-

"He likes her!" Nal declared in an excited, ecstatic, and somewhat confused whisper to Hanuman, who leaned in, raising an eyebrow. Confused, because, well, he couldn't understand why such a good, optimistic, handsome, and eligible monkey as Neel would possibly like his sister. "Watch how he looks at her, watch and learn Hanuman! Neel likes Jal, and you know what, I think she's finally proven herself to be a decent sister and not just a pain in the neck and competition!" he cleared his throat slowly, folding and twisting his hands together for a moment, before stepping forward. "You've never been so genius and smart before, Jal!" he shouted. "You know, for a moment, I thought that even with us not being twins, I had stolen your brains!" he glanced at her quickly.

Jal stared at him, eyes sad and downturned for a moment, and for a second, Nal wondered if he had finally gone too far, but that was before she smacked the back of his head lightly. Nal rubbed it dramatically before wrapping an arm around her shoulders, much to the surprise of literally everyone in the vanar sena. "You know, you're so smart all of a sudden, that I think you and Neel would be a great match! I bless this marriage!" And with that, he shoved the two together, walking away proudly.

-----O-----

Alas, at that moment, Nal forgot his greatest personality trait; his observation. Nal could always observe and build to it, he could notice his surroundings almost as great as Neel, but he failed to notice the look of sheer hurt that Angad flashed his way as he walked away proudly. It was only years later that Angad finally sat him down (still too abashed to talk to Neel) and told him that Nal finally figured it out.

Because building, making, creating, being eager to please, was all great. But to build, one always had to sustain, sustain what would happen in the future, and what would happen in the past. Nal, always impatient to do what he loved, forgot this for a second, forgot that though he had brought light to the relationship of Jal and Neel, that there was someone else whom he had hurt. Haste never helps, but to unravel years and years of a loom in mere seconds. Haste is like the strike of a knife. Slice without looking, and more than one life may be changed forever.

Jal "The Good Hearted"

Jal had always been told that she was exactly like her elder brother, Nal, but she never felt that way. For one, Nal was a builder. He made the best and most beautiful things in his free time. Jal wished she could do things like that, make a stick of wood into a flute which made sounds as pleasing as a maiden singing. Jal wished she could make large palaces and put her dolls in them to live, and perhaps even some other monkeys who didn't have homes. Jal wished that she could have helped build that bridge.

But no. Jal couldn't do any of those things, because Nal could. No wonder her brother always rolled his eyes and called her useless. She was useless! She couldn't do anything, and it wasn't fair, because her bhaiyya had everything! Friends, admirers, talents, and appreciation from their parents. All Jal could do was sit around and play with her dolls, make clothes for them and hats with feathers and pretend all was well with them, even if it wasn't for her.

And then one day, she met Angad, the crown prince. He had tripped over a boulder near their house, but no one was home. Nal and Neel had gone out to play, and their mothers were out shopping, and so she had wandered around excitedly in order to find more things to play with, and heard a soft sound. It sounded like a mix of a whimper and a groan, and Jal had sat up in fright. "Who's there?" she called, her voice trembling. "Who's there?" she reached a hand out and only walked closer to where the voice was emanating from.

Sweeping aside the leaves, she found the large boulder where she often talked to her dolls, and instead saw another monkey, decked out in jewelry, clutching his knee. And slowly, her eyes tracked the trail of blood which dripped out of his fingers. "Help," he began, his voice throaty. "Help, my knee's bleeding and-" Jal nodded, and scampered away. Her feet rushed so quickly, she wondered if even Nal would be proud of her as she brought back the ointment and the woven cloth she had kept to make clothes for her dolls.

She sat next to him and brought out the ointment. Angad must have recognized it, because he winced and only tightened his hand around his knee. "It'll sting a little," she said, removing his hand slowly and spraying the ointment before wrapping the cloth tightly around his knee. "There you go!" she exclaimed. "All better now I hope." She glanced at him quickly, as Angad stared at her with wide eyes and slightly agape mouth. "My name is Jal. I'm the younger sister of Nal, if you know him?"

Angad nodded, and Jal helped him up. "I'm Angad-er-" he coughed, before puffing his chest out, slightly, crossing his arms across his already broad chest as they walked (or rather half limped) away from the forest. "-Yuvraj Angad." he gave the air a playful grin, and out of the corner of his eye, spotted Jal glancing at him quickly, eyes wide, before they softened and patted his back before bowing slightly, opening her mouth widely. "But-uh-" he quickly hastened. "You may call me Angad. Um-please." he ended meekly.

"Well, Angad, come back to my home! I can help fix that torn pant knee." And she wrapped a hand around his arm and pulled him gently towards the large house in front.

-----O-----

Jal was one of the few females in the army, and so, for all the male soldiers, it made sense that should their armor be torn or if they needed food cooked, they would come to her. Not that Jal minded though. She was often found either helping Jambavan with the ointments and sewing cloth dutifully, or over the stove, stoking the fire on her haunches and dropping thick stalks of palm for salad and stew into the charcoal pot she had brought from home.

She wasn't recognized much, or as much as some, but she was perfectly content, sewing large amounts of jhute and wrapping it into spools of cloth which Jambavan ripped into pieces and wrapped around arms. She was the very heart of the tent, she was the reason so many of the injured survived, she kept them cozy and warm in the time of war, and happy at least in the souls, because souls were kindled with memories of the best place; home.

------O-------

"My armor has been reduced to shreds!" Neel complained loudly one day to no one in particular, though he sat right next to a sewing Jal. "Now I don't even have any good clothes!" Indeed, Jal glanced at him abashedly for a second, and he was covered in only a blanket. She turned bright red and continued to sew rapidly, turning purposefully away from him, hunched over something. Thus, unknown to her, Neel straightened himself proudly, watching her out of the very corners of his eyes.

The very next moment, Jal turned back around, her eyes averted, but she held up a large, jhute shirt, complete with small buttons made out of polished rocks. "T-There," she murmured. "A shirt!" Neel grabbed it, looking at it eagerly, turning it over, and over and over, putting it up, and running away with it, forgetting he was half naked, and returning with a brand new, sparkling golden t-shirt, turning around in the middle of the tent, and all of a sudden, Jal found herself drowning in requests for shirts, and shirts, and more shirts.

But Neel would always jut his chin out and say that he was the very first who had got one, which meant that his was the very best, though the shirt was not very fitting or fashionable. He never got another tailor to make his clothes ever again, no. It was always Jal, whatever excuse there was, spending time with Jal. Not that she minded, of course. This friend of her brothers, a treasured acquaintance whom she hadn't really gotten to know, suddenly seemed so close.

-----O------

Angad had seen her like a guardian angel, like someone whose laughter would tinkle in your ears as they reached down a hand at you and pulled you up. He viewed her as this ethereal fae who could right any wrong and end any of his troubles. And even when she couldn't, she was there, she was there, and that was what mattered to him. Jal never knew of this regard with which Angad held her in, for the best of people never knew how much they were worth. This was how Angad fell in love with the younger sister of his good friend.

He was ready enough to ask his uncle what he thought of his choice, ready enough to marry her even, spend the rest of his life with a woman, a girl he had always seemed to know,when Nal, ever good meaning, but ever hasty, had set up her marriage with someone else. Angad had seen how Neel had looked at her, knowing the look in his eyes, knowing the true meaning of his actions, and didn't say a single word.

-----O-----

And as for Jal, she never did quite figure out how she was similar to Nal. But everyone else did. Eager to please, they both were. Eager to please, help in any way they could. The siblings were always found helping others. But Jal, Jal was like this ball of kindness and innocence that seemed to never expire. For helping others was how she found everything, from her devotion to Prabhu Shri Ram, to her love for sewing.

Jal, or water, symbolized life, and she brought life to everything, an orb of light to every darkness, a calm thought to every storm of words. Jal or water, was the reason for life, was the reason so many lived through that war effort. Jal had a life, which she gave away to others, until she finally got to live, and love, unknowing, as all kind people were, of the stinging eyes which watched them from a distance.

A/N-So, I didn't include any minor Author's Notes as I usually do after each synopsis because I didn't want to ruin the Reading Experience. This was personally my favorite character drabbles, and while many may not like this one, man, I loved it! Jal is a fictional character, but I always imagined that Nal should have a sister. Thus, Jal. Don't worry, for Neel does eventually marry Jal, I didn't ruin the ship or sink it! But, Angad did love her before, though not very vocally or physically.

OKAY-so have any of you heard about Adipurush, the up and coming move based on the Ramayan? I thought S.S. Rajamouli was directing it, but apparently it's Om Raut. So....ahem, I don't mean to force my opinions on anybody, but the casting director wasn't exactly.....AMAZING, I mean, like, what were they thinking?

Prabhas as Ram I could see. I mean, if you saw Baahubali one, he used a bow, and he was damn good at it. 

But then...Saif Ali Khan as Ravan? Hahahaha-uh? Saif Ali Khan strikes me more as an emperor of the north of middle of India even, but not Sri Lanka. You know who would be a good Ravan?

Rana Daggubati. Maybe he's too handsome, but like-can you SEE IT?! Rana Daggubati as Ravan? Riiight? I guess they didn't want it to seem like Baahubali, so they gave Saif Ali Khan, but I mean, what's wrong with Baahubali? 

NOOOO wait-Nikitin Dheer!

THEN-Kriti Sanon as Sita. Ms. Sanon is pretty, for sure! Beautiful even! Can you see her as Sita? Somewhat, I guess.  But how about Kajal Aggarwal, or Anushka Shetty? Again, only my opinion! But, I mean, Kajal Aggarwal would be a good Sita, in my mind!

THEEEENNNN-Sunny Singh as Lakshman. I'm sorry, NO-I mean, I do not agree with that?? Like, really? Sunny Singh as Lakshman? You couldn't find anyone else? 

So, here's the actual cast: Prabhas as Ram, Saif Ali Khan as Ravan, Kriti Sanon as Sita, Sunny Singh as Lakshman. 

Here is my dream cast: Prabhas as Ram, Nikitin Dheer as Ravan, Kajal Aggarwal as Sita, Rana Daggubati as Lakshman. 

Sorry to have offended anyone. Kartik Aaryan would have been a better Lakshman, if we have to confine ourselves to Sonu ke Titu ki Sweety. ACTUALLY WAIT, that would be goo-