But these women who aspired to start their own councils were right about one thing—there was a power in listening, in trust between women.
By the age of ten, all of the boys were polite and well-spoken, but Rama especially so, and so I did not notice at first when things began to go wrong. In fact, Asha was the first one to realize it. She had volunteered to watch the boys one afternoon, and when I returned to my rooms, she was waiting for me.
“Have you noticed anything odd about Rama recently?” she asked me.
I shook my head, alarmed. “Is he ill?”
“No! No, nothing like that, but…”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I have some work I need to do for tomorrow’s council meeting—perhaps we could discuss this later?”
“He is physically well, but this is urgent nonetheless, Radnyi.”
Asha almost never addressed me so formally when we were alone. I finally took a good look at her. She was biting her lip and twisting her hands. Incredibly nervous, by Asha’s standards.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Rama and I were talking. He asked where everyone else had gone, so I explained. I think the nurses and tutors don’t speak frankly with the boys, because he had never heard of the Women’s Council.”
“That’s hardly a sin,” I told her. “He’s young. I’m sure you provided him with a good explanation.”
Asha’s face fell. “I thought I did. He stayed silent for a few minutes and I went to check on Bharata and Shatrugna. I hadn’t heard anything from them for some time, and that got me worried. But they were just painting with intense concentration.” She smiled slightly.
“That’s lovely,” I said. “But what does this have to do with Rama?”
“When I came back, he told me that he had been thinking carefully about what I said. And that he believed we should stop.” She looked at me, uncertainty in her eyes. I nodded encouragement. “He said that women shouldn’t hold a council because it was immodest. That it defies the laws of the sages, and thus of the gods.”
My stomach tightened. My son, accusing me of behaving immodestly. He was only ten years of age.
“Why?” I exclaimed. “Do you have any idea what led him to say such a thing?” Could it be one of his tutors, filling his head with such ideas? It wasn’t impossible. Though their tutors were considered the brightest scholars Kosala had to offer, we hardly interrogated them about their views on reform when appointing them.
Miserable, Asha shook her head. “I asked him who told him such things and he said nobody did. He informed me that it was a fact of life and everybody should know it. And then he told me not question him, and he tried to send me away.”
“Send you away?” I echoed weakly. It must have been his tutors. He would not have learned such behavior from Dasharath, who allowed us to create the Women’s Council and continue it without complaint. His tutors must have taught him this, or perhaps other men and boys he interacted with at court. I had not considered the possibility that my sons might learn such old-fashioned attitudes from others.
Asha stepped forward, her warm hand reaching out to gently rub my arm. I realized I was hugging myself around the middle. “I told him I answered to you, not him.”
A wet laugh bubbled out of me. I could imagine Asha, arms crossed, telling the prince of Ayodhya she wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m sure he didn’t like that.”
“Oh no. His sweet little face turned so red. I thought he would burst into tears, or maybe kick me. But he just yelled that I was lying and ran off.”
I dashed away the tears pooling in my eyes with the heel of my hand. So Rama had, despite the best efforts of all of his mothers and even his father, adopted a poor attitude toward women. I could still fix this. I would speak to Lakshmana, who was Rama’s confidante and the most observant of my four sons. I would try to determine if all the boys felt the same way, and then regardless I would dismiss all of their tutors. I had always taken an interest in the boys’ learning, teaching Bharata his letters, observing Rama’s physical training, telling Lakshmana and Shatrugna old stories about great heroes that I recalled from my childhood trips to the library cellar. But maybe I needed to do more. Perhaps I could even find a female scholar for one of their subjects, just to make sure the boys understood that women could be learned as well, and could hold many respected positions.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” Asha said.
“Why are you apologizing? This is not your fault. It is mine. Rest assured I will impress upon Rama the rudeness of the way he spoke to you.”