Song of the Chapter: Shabaashiyaan from Mission Mangal

Lakshman was so caught up in thinking about the weather and all its symbolic means that he forgot that he was literally free falling towards the ground. Fortunately, soon, the chariot started turning around in mid-air, which made him hyper aware of the possibly life threatening situation that he was stuck in. But what was the problem? Lakshman was always stuck in life threatening situations.

Except, he had finally managed to kill Indrajit, and was expecting some praise from his brother, if anything. Now, after this fiasco, all they had left to do was kill Ravan (which bhaiyya would undoubtedly do), and then he could go home, watch Ram be crowned, and leisurely take care of his brother his entire life. If he died now, then the cosmos had decided to play a universe-wide joke on him. Which wasn't news. But still.

Muttering some word lowly to himself that Sumitra wouldn't have been too tickled at (read: would have been deprived of weapons for), he grasped the back of the chariot seat and leaped into action, grasping the reins with both hands with practiced ease. Driving chariots had never been his expertise (Ram bhaiyya had always liked socializing with the horses, or just socializing in general, more than him), but he managed just fine.

Or would have managed just fine, if not for one tiny little problem. Indrajit had controlled the chariot with his illusions. The horses were gone, wiped away the moment that the demon prince had hit the ground at the bottom of the canyon. Rolling his eyes as if everything in life was an annoyance to him (which it was), Lakshman let go of the reins, and busied himself trying to find something that he could burn.

No, Lakshman didn't (just) have pyrotechnical anger management issues, he was also trying to find something that he could signal Hanuman with. "Argh, where are the flammable things when you need them! When Indrajit needs to kill me, he has all the agni arrows in the world. When I want to, then there's a freaking rainstorm!" Lakshman rubbed his eyes exhaustedly, and sat down in the chariot.

Before proceeding immediately to stand up again. "NO! No giving up! I want to see bhaiyya be crowned, and like heck I'll die like a pathetic death like an unprepared skydiver! The universe can't play a joke on me! The universe is a joke to me! Hanuman must be busy smashing skulls or whatever he gets up to in his free time, Vibhishan would be drinking tea, and Ram bhaiyya doesn't even know of my predicament! So now I'll rely on the only thing that helps me each time!"

"Myself!" Instead of praying to god like any normal hero in a predicament would do, Lakshman summoned his bows and arrows with a mantra that Bharat had taught him. ("Accio arrow! And bow!") Then, instead of launching a parachute arrow like any good skydiver would do, Lakshman fished out a shield arrow from his messy quiver. ("Oh god, where is the stupid shield arrow when I need it? I knew I should have listened to Bharat bhaiyya and organized my weapons alphabetically.")

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

So bright was his solution that it was visible from the vanar camps, where the generals had long congregated with Ram to eagerly (and nervously) await Lakshman. "What is that?" Neel asked, pointing towards a bright purple cannonball racing towards the earth more rapid than Vibhishan when he spotted Green Tea. "Is that a message from the Gods?"

"Why do the Gods have to be so cryppptiiiiicccc?" Nal cried, falling to his knees, shaking his fists at the sky. "No offense to you, Prabhu, but you guys need to just send clear messages. The fact that you're sending a sign to us mere mortals in the first place means that our mental capacity is obviously not up to your expectations, so you how can you expect us to discern whatever signal you're trying to send?"

Ram, while heavily flattered at the prospect of being called a God, was also quite worried about the purple fireball that was approaching the Earth. "Stay back," he advised, pushing everyone back. Hanuman and Vibhishan and Lakshman were still in the cave, but he hoped that they too were keeping their distance from the fireball. Something, some sliver of fear, sliced the part of his heart that cared only for Lakshman. Where was he? Why wasn't he back yet?

"Wa-" Angad's cry was cut off as the purple fireball finally hit the Earth. The booming noise was like ten thousand cannons shot at the very same time. Shockwaves from the bomb rippled across the battlefield, felling thousands of rakshasas as shrapnel from the chariot flew, lifting up demons and pinning them to the ground. In the camp, the vanar generals were blown back, but Ram stood his ground, hair blowing behind him as he stared the explosion down.

The tents hadn't broken from behind them, but healers emerged, evidently shaken as their hands trembled from the force of impact. The cloudy skies rumbled worriedly from above them, and many monkey soldiers still out in the field scampered quickly back to Ram's tent colony to get away from the mysterious source of the explosion.

"What is that? Are we about to be extincted like the dinosaurs? NOOOOO-"

"Stop being so pessimistic. Maybe it's a signal from the gods?"

"What? That we should all drench ourselves in grape juice and cannonball into the Earth?"

Nal was the next to recover, standing up and placing his general's helmet onto his head gingerly as he watched the scene. As the vanars all stood up around him, forming an awed circle, he gasped. "Is that-Indrajit's chariot?" he inquired, pointing shakily to the broken structure that smoked from the center of the deep crater.

Everything behind the broken thing smoked in a misty fog, but something was unmistakable. The gold detailing, the carving, the luxurious lavishness of a royal possession, everything was of stark similarity to the chariot Jambavan and Nal and Neel had seen when Indrajit had tricked them with Maya Sita.

 Angad clapped a hand to his mouth, eyes like wide, empty saucers. "But, if that's Meghnad's chariot-" One glance from Jambavan stopped his words, but the hidden meaning was evident. Then where is Lakshman bhaiyya?

Ram asked the question anyways. "Where is Lakshman?" They all looked towards him simultaneously. The silence seemed to put the prince even more on edge, however. "If that's Indrajit's chariot, and Indrajit is dead, then where is Lakshman?" 

He glanced at his generals, then at Sugriv, who stared back at him. "Weren't they supposed to stay in the cave? So how come Indrajit's chariot fell to the ground? Where is my Laksh?"

"I think that maybe Indrajit led Lakshman bhaiyya away from the cave in his chariot, or tried to flee." Neel began tentatively. "He must have underestimated Lakshman bhaiyya's ability to follow him. I suspect the location of their final battle was that very chariot that is flaming in the center of the battlefield." He left Ram's question unanswered, for he didn't know how to respond.

In horror, Ram's gaze was ripped from the battlefield to face Sushen. Sushen, who stood there, both hands to his mouth. He had already healed Lakshman once. But it was impossible to do the same thing when there wasn't even a corpse to examine left.

 "What, what you mean to say, is that Lakshman was in that chariot when it fell towards the Earth, along with Indrajit?" he whispered. "Is that what you mean? That they both matched each other in the end with a big explosion? I don't believe it! I don't-I don't believe you!"

He turned back to the battlefield, where purple colored smoke rose from the ruins of the chariot and the back of it. The caves and mountains were masked by the heavy debris. Ram clenched his jaw, hand tightening on his bow. 

Before anyone could stop him, his hand reached for the Brahmastra in a bout of pure fury. "I will kill Ravan. I don't care anymore for the wellbeing of the rakshasas when my own brother, who has never even done anything wrong, could be gone! He's not here anymore to stop me from using this Brahmastra, and no one will try to!" 

He had just strung the weapon when a distinct profile cut against the hazy shadows. A large, towering silhouette, barely a shadow, began to emerge out of the smoke.

Ram didn't even have to think for a second. Years of living with his younger brother, and he could recognize his footfall, the position of his arrows, even his breath patterns. This outline was engraved in his mind. From the shadows, Lakshman walked out.

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

Ram had run out of the tent in seconds, placing his bow on the ground as he watched the army he sent draw closer to the tent. Behind Lakshman was Hanuman, one hand holding a mace over his shoulder, and the other clenched in a fist on his side. Vibhishan had his hands folded almost wistfully behind him as he loped behind the other two in a shy but proud fashion that surprised everyone but Ram.

Lakshman walked closer and closer still, and all Ram could do was stare. The shock still rattled his heart. When just moments ago, he'd been convinced that he'd never see that red hair and confident walk, those dark eyes, that towering bow that still scared the heck out of everyone, now he felt like shaking Lakshman. Why would you put your poor brother through so many emotions in a single second, Laksh?

Some semblance of tears flooded his vision, making the colors in front of him blur together, but he didn't even try to wipe them away, to preoccupied with the sight of him. He simply teetered from foot to foot excitedly, as if trying to restrain himself from jumping on Lakshman or transporting himself next to his brother.

Finally, when Ram couldn't take it anymore, he broke into a run and crashed into Lakshman, wrapping his long arms around the younger, and squeezing him in his warm (but dangerous) embrace. Lakshman choked, but hugged Ram back with whatever strength he still had left in his body. "Prabhu," Hanuman laughed. "Lakshman bhaiyya just missed an appointment with death. Don't try to reschedule it!"

"Khushi manao!" Sugriv called, spreading his arms wide and his smile reaching almost as far. "Our warrior has returned home victorious! The blood of our foe has been spilled today! Bring out the instruments! Bring out the fruit punch!" Five vanars ran to source fruit punch from the fruit punch lake nearby, and the other two started dialing the phone to call a nice string quartet to the party.

Nal and Neel did bhangra around the two brothers, and Angad played a trumpet off in the corner, and Sugriv was waltzing around the tents with Jambavan, but all Ram could see, at that moment, was Lakshman. Lakshman, who stood in front of him, looking winded, hair sticking to his face with sweat, face brushed with dirt and something red that looked suspiciously like vermillion, and exhausted, half like his life had been sucked out of him.

Lakshman, who would deal with his worst like an angel. The man who spoke close to nothing, but always could say the right thing if it was Ram bhaiyya who needed the words. In the mind of whom Ram's every command, every action, every principle was engraved. Who would kill himself in a second if Ram asked it of him. Who would do anything, Ram need only say. Who had left behind his everything because he knew Ram couldn't survive without him.

Lakshman, his baby brother, whom he had seen grow up. To whom he had hand fed rice and bandaged cuts for, to whom he had reluctantly snuck sweets and took blame for. For whom he would give his life, give up this war, evoke the Brahmastra in seconds if he left the planet. Lakshman, who never seemed to cry in front of him, who the only reason he still retained his sanity and humanity, and for that brother, Ram only could say one thing.

"What the heck happened to your face?! You're scratched and bleeding! DUMBO! Pay some attention to your wounds, would you? I mean, I know it's a battle and all, but what's the point if you're going to give me a heart attack when you come back anyways? You might as well go right back to the cave! Go!" He pointed back to the cave direction in mock fury, the other hand on his hip.

The rest of the vanars laughed, but Lakshman confusedly glanced towards the direction Ram pointed. With a shrug he pulled his bow back onto his shoulder and began walking back towards the caves once more with a sense of determination. 

With a shout, Ram grabbed his arm and pulled him back into another hug. "You follow my orders too well," he sniffled.

Lakshman opened his mouth, and everyone waited with bated breath. In front of them stood a man who defeated a demon who had defeated a god who had defeated many other demons who had....okay, history aside, a very good warrior who had finally killed Indrajit with his knife. His first words upon returning to them would be uttered. Nal held up his parchment to document them. 

"Are you crying bhaiyya?" Lakshman exclaimed. "Your emotions befuddle me! What do you want me to do? Was I not supposed to kill Meghnad?"

Stunned silence.

"No!" Angad barked. "You weren't! Bad Lakshman bhaiyya! Go to Yama and bring him back right now!"

"Really, whatever gave you the idea that you were supposed to kill Indrajit? Was it because we hated him? Lakshman bhaiyya, violence is never the answer!" Neel chided.

"You're right." Nal added. "It's the question. And the answer is yes." But then he too turned towards poor, confused Lakshman. "Except in this case! Indrajit was obviously trying to tickle us with his arrows and show some magic tricks, and you went and killed him! Bhaiyyaaaaaaa!"

Lakshman scowled. "My answer to violence is about to become very evident to you. You want Meghnad back? I'll send you on a visit to his new address." Angad, Nal, and Neel quickly scurried to hide behind Ram, who shook his head good-naturedly. "Alright bhaiyya," Lakshman sighed. "I won't kill them. If you promise never to call me dumbo ever again!"

"Never ever!" Ram promised, linking his pinky finger with Lakshman's, before leading him back into the tents.

But it was at that very moment that Lakshman's adrenaline rush finally fizzled out. The next step he took, he half fell over before Ram caught him on his shoulders. "Laksh!" Ram cried, wrapping his arms around him. 

He made his younger brother sit down, and lifted his foot to examine the sole. It wasn't a pretty sight. It looked as if the flesh had completely burnt, and the bottom of his foot was completely black. Whatever parts weren't coal colored were bright red and dripping with blood.

"You were supposed to fight Indrajit, not walk on coals like Maa Kali!" Ram yelled. "What did Indrajit do? Send an agni baan towards your feet?" Lakshman opened his mouth to say that yeah, something of the sort, when Ram clapped a hand over his face. "NO SPEAKING, DUMBO!"

Nal, Neel, and Angad were never seen again. To this date, it's unclear if they fled or if Lakshman finally found them. Maybe Ram put them in a witness protection program of some sort. 

A/N-Yess! We've finally finished the Laksh-Meghnad section of this story! Now there's only one more major battle left! Ram v Ravan! Guys, one thing I will caution, is don't expect too much of that chapter. I know some of you will be like "So this Indrajit thing took like 13 chapters! So Ram v Ravan must be taking 20!" 

I'll finish it off in 3 chapters, maximum. Frankly, I don't feel like showing Ravan as a particularly formidable warrior in front of Shri Ram. I know he was extremely respectable in terms of war, but I mean, in front of lord Vishnu? PFFFFT.

ALSO-We have reached 175 chapters! YAYAYAYAYAY!!

Which means I have about 15 more to go! Which means no more slowburning for this gal, I need to speed up so I don't have to make another book for this book. I'm just not sure how to end this book. I want to end it with melancholy, I think. Do any of you want to see any particular scenes before it ends?