Week 2 Storytelling: The Break Room

The Court of Lahore, August Schoefft Source

I slid quietly into my usual spot in the break room, tucked away in a shadowy corner far from the hustle and bustle, happily ignored by the other servants and staff. It was the perfect spot to lurk unseen, watching the goings-on and hearing the freshest scraps of rumor and gossip that floated from the king's palace throughout the city of Ayodhya. Today the entire city was in an uproar; every man, woman, and child was consumed with manic energy in making preparations for Rama's coronation. Oh, how ironic, I chuckled to myself. Little did these simple souls know the events already unfolding that would crush their high spirits, the plan that I had set in motion.

It had been most amusing, watching these poor saps. All night, servants rushed about, wondering where the king had gone; wondering if the rumors were true that he had chosen now, of all times, to hole up with one of his wives somewhere; wondering if he would ever come out and if someone should go and check on him, even though it was against custom... oh, how silly and high strung they all were! That chief minister, Sumantra - why, the poor man was an absolute wreck by the night's end. While the blissfully ignorant public gathered merrily outside, the entire palace staff buzzed about with increasing tension; it was a towering pyre ready to ignite at the slightest spark of disaster. And oh, did that disaster come.

Suddenly, Sumantra burst into the room and all the nervous, tittering voices fell silent. I could tell by the greenish pallor of the man's face that he had finally been to see the king - and that my plan had worked perfectly.

Sumantra - valiantly trying to appear calm and casual, goodness me! - pulled aside his chief of preparations. Though he spoke in hushed tones, one could still make out a word here and there in the eerie silence: "...cancel the coronation... king... not well.. Kaikeyi... banished Rama..." It is fortunate that I was well hidden in my corner, for I had to suppress a satisfied grin as I saw Sumantra's confidants recoil in shock at the news they heard. They hustled from the room, and no sooner had they turned the corner than the servants struck up their gossiping with renewed agitation.

"Did you hear what he said?"

"Could this be true? The coronation is off?"

"Did he say that Rama has been banished? That can't be true! And what was that about Kaikeyi? ..."

Oh, that worrisome, anxious buzzing, that discordant din of chaos - it was music to my ears! That smug favorite Rama will not take the throne, that throne my beloved Kaikeyi so rightfully deserves to honor with her son. Good and kind Kaikeyi will take her well-earned place as queen mother, and I as her faithful devotee.

Little by little the nervous gossip turned to panicked consensus and finally devastating knowledge - Rama would not be crowned, but banished to the forests for fourteen years, according to the request of the king's wife Kaikeyi. What's more, the king himself had fallen suddenly ill and could not be reached. Everything fell into utter disarray; the palace was full of people - staff, servants, honored guests and common villagers - who, though moments ago were celebrating, now found themselves plagued with confusion and grief. Oh, the drama! By now I could not help but laugh softly to myself - these poor fools, pinning all their hopes and happiness on that young fool Rama! So, there I was - perhaps one would have thought me mad if he had noticed me, sitting there laughing amid the lamenting crowds. Yet it is indeed I who have had the last laugh in this affair. Surely, nothing now can stop my dear Kaikeyi from rising to glory.

Kaikeyi convinces Dasaratha to banish Rama     Source

Author's Note

As I read the section of the Ramayana in which the news is discovered and spread about Kaikeyi's banishment of Rama, I was interested by the brief mentions of the public and the king's various servants/staff members as they tried to figure out what was going on. This inspired me to tell the story from the staff's point of view - on the one hand, it is an insider's firsthand experience, but they also do not have all the information and must find it out gradually. I also wondered, as I was reading, what happened to Kooni - she isn't really mentioned after the one scene where she persuades Kaikeyi. Putting these thoughts together, I told this story with Kooni as the narrator, watching as the staff becomes aware of the plot she's set in motion. I called it "The Break Room" because I imagined this as the sort of situation you would find in a modern-type break room - all the employees of a large place coming together, milling about, sharing gossip and keeping each other up to speed. It may be a bit anachronistic, but I think it sets the right feeling, and frankly I don't know what would serve as a "break room" in ancient India.

Source: Narayan, R. K. (1972) The Ramayana: A Shortened Modern Prose Version of the Indian Epic.