The Forbidden Sitar

Queen Jashoda | The Mother

Jai Vardhan entered the chamber. He saw himself in the mirror. In utter pure disgust.

His eyes dark and heavy.

What have you turned me into, Mother? A murderer like you?

He punched the mirror in anger. Blood spilled from his fingers but he didn't care a bit. All his anger was towards her.

"Missing me are ya dear son?"

The most dreaded voice came from behind him and he turned to see her.

"Mother, what a pleasure to have you!" He spat in sarcasm.

"You need to work on your sarcasm you know? And a son doesn't talk like that to his mother. Especially not when he wants the throne so badly! At least have a facade of love, my dear. Such a pity to have a dumb son. If you are going to be evil at least do it right." She said while looking at her hands having henna.

"How can I? I am like my father remember? I am not the villain Mother, you were and are."

"Oh really?? That's the sweetest thing you have said, son!" She said while scrounging in his room for medicines and a bandage.

"I hate you, Mother."

"That you do surely son. Jealousy is the best of emotions. But the worst of enemies."

"Truelly said."

"In your case, it is both."

"What do you mean?"

"You are yourself jealous of your amazing mother, and people behind you, are jealous and want to destroy you. But your love-thirsty eyes can't see that can they?"

"Who?"

"For instance let's say that stupid uncle of yours. Good at hypnotizing people isn't he? The only appreciable quality I could find."

"Because he found out you killed Father, right?"

"Wrong. I didn't kill him, my dear boy. If you had done your homework right and not kept your ears open and brain off, well then you would have been able to see it."

"Really? Make me see, Mother."

"I am a mother, not a cheater. Do your homework and find it out on your own. "

"I did! I looked at the purchase records! You ordered it!"

"When, my dear son?"

"On the first day of Shravan. I remember."

"And what do we do on the first day of Shravan my dear son?"

"Do the puja for good monsoons and of course, you play your damn sitar."

"How dare you call my sitar damn?"

She strode towards him and looked into his eyes.

"Never ever insult the gods. Saraswati resides in music. Music has the power to heal son. Never ever insult the gods."

"I will, what will you do?"

SLAPPPP!!!!!!!!

She slapped his cheek and he wailed in agony.

"I will do this."

He glared through his fingers on his face.

"Back to the discussion, when we do the puja, who does all the arrangments?"

"Vikram."

"And who orders the medicinal plants for the chemists from the foreign lands under the queen's name?"