I told myself I was securing Bharat’s future, that I was being a mother first, a queen second. But the truth? The truth was that I was afraid—afraid of losing what little power and place I held.

Now, as I sit in this darkened room, the weight of my choices presses heavy on my chest. Dasharatha died with my betrayal fresh in his heart. Rama walked into the forest without a word of anger, his grace more cutting than any curse. Bharat, my Bharat, refused the throne I had fought so hard to give him and placed Rama’s sandals on it instead.

What did I gain? Nothing but a lifetime of remorse.

The world will remember me as the queen who banished her stepson, but in my heart, I remain a mother who lost everything—her husband, her children, her peace—all because she could not see beyond her fear.

And yet, if I could go back, could I truly undo what I have done? Could I silence Manthara’s whispers? Could I let go of my ambitions? I do not know.

What I do know is this: the weight of ambition is heavier than any crown. And as I near the end of my days, I pray that the shadows of my choices will not darken the light of those I love.

Tonight, I write not to absolve myself but to be remembered as a woman, flawed and human, who paid the price for her mistakes. Perhaps that is all I have left to give.

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I write this story becouse I thought those people who take kaikayi as a bad person what she feel at that time I think in my inner mind that what if she thinks this someday at that time when things going on in her room alone with this thoughts at night 🌃 don't take it in a wrong way I only right that my mind say when I will watch the story history of our culture at that time I want to write a short story for the person who deserve her point what she thought at that time when the people are not same at that time and now but that she can say if she wants to if somebody she will clear her point at that time but now in this generation when their is no one who can protect her name or gave a reason what she thought at that time ❤️