#luv-kush

Doing this more in the style of five separate AUs, like the Urmila goes to the forest one, rather than one long AU:

1. The forest is no place for a princess, Sita’s father-in-law had said, and in deference to what he must feel, looking upon the state of his grandchildren, Sita sends her daughters back to the palace as soon as they are weaned. They are accepted without question, of course; daughters are not the threat to the throne’s stability that sons might be.

Kushmanda and Lavanya grow to womanhood, petted and pampered by an army of aunts and uncles, cherished by a trio of indulgent grandmothers, adored by a kind but quiet father, and burdened with nothing but emptiness where their mother ought to be. No one speaks of her; no one reveals so much as her name. 

When the Ashwameda Yagna begins, Ayodha is besieged by singers, each wanting to chant rhymes of Rama’s life in order to attempt royal favor. The twin princesses are allowed into the streets to listen, but instead find their footsteps leading them to a man with silver hair, familiar but not, who clutches a humble lute and smiles at them. 

“I’ve come,” says Valmiki, “to tell you the story of your mother.”

2. Sita might have stayed near Ayodhya for the sake of a son’s birthright, but too well she knows Mithila is a better place for girls to grow. She swallows her pride and returns to her father’s home, safe amidst the farmlands.

Her daughters grow straight and tall and wise, inherit their grandfather’s throne, and are known only by their mother’s name and dynasty. 

3. “Aunt Tara is the most wonderful woman in the world,” Lavanya exclaims happily, turning on her side to look at her sister, sprawled on the bed opposite.

Kushmanda’s eyes are closed but still she snorts in disgust. “You can’t mean that. Not while Aunt Ruma lives.”

Lavanya resists the urge to make a face, but just barely. “Aunt Tara’s cleverer,” she points out. “All the world knows that.”

“Aunt Ruma is stronger.”

This argument is hardly a new one, and all too well Lavanya knows there will be no end to it; instead she offers compromise. “They’re both of them less ridiculous than Uncle Sugriva.”

Kushmanda’s lips tilt upwards. “As to that, there is no question.”

4. Mother teaches them to sow seeds in spring, whispering the right amount of encourage to will the flowers the bloom; and shows them how to call the birds and animals of the wild to their hand with the utmost ease. 

The forest itself is open to them; the earth indulgent of their requests; what else could they possibly want? This is why they laugh when Mother reveals the secret of their birth, and urges them to seek their father and their family in the city of Ayodhya.

“We have the world in our hand here,” they say, “and you. What more could we ask for?”

They spend their days alongside their mother in a humble cottage, richer and happier by far than any prince or princess could ever be. 

5. Girls are not taught customarily to fight, and Vasistha, if he had the rearing of the twins, would certainly not approve. But Valmiki is quite different, and knows besides that the blood of the Raghuvanshis flows bright in his foster-children. He will not dim that being so much a fool as burdening them with society’s laws--he teaches them to wind flower garlands in their hair and bowstrings about their weapons with equal ease. 

Mother teaches them to use their weapons with caution, and only when there is a need for it. They learn as much from her pursed lips and pained expression when any animal is cut down as from her lectures on the subject; they swear of their own volition to use their skills only to protect.

So it is fortunate after all, that when the sacrificial horse comes upon their hermitage, the girls can argue that they act only in its defense. When it returns to Ayodhya, it will be sacrificed--and how can Sita’s daughters allow such an injustice to occur?

Kushmanda half-smiles at her sister. “There’ll be armies, you know. The Ikshavaku won’t break their word, or alter their threats, even if we are only girls.”

one lie they told

“We forgive you,” they say, over and over again so that it loses what little meaning it ever had: but princes are gracious, their lost mother’s voice echoes in their minds, and accept all apologies. 

two prayers/requests they made

They revere the Ashwini twins above all other gods: for they dwell in the sky, another set of twins, and follow their father the sun faithfully as he crosses the sky; give us such purpose, they pray, and–for better or for worse–have their wish granted. 

“Tell us about our father,” they ask their mother always, and are never satisfied with the platitudes she gives them. He is good, he is kind, he is wise: and somehow still absent. It does not fit with they know of him, what they know of the world. 

“Tell us about Mother,” they ask their father years later: and though his face is still as stone, he complies.  

the best gift one gave the other

It’s Valmiki canon! (Frustratingly, there’s no online Uttar Kand translation, but it’s Sarga 57-58 in this Google Book). Briefly, Shatrughan stays the night at Valmiki’s ashram on his way to kill Lavanasura, and that just so happens to be the night Sita goes into labor. IIRC, I think they tell him it’s some distant relation of the Raghuvansh clan so that he does perform the rites for the newborn as paternal uncle, but that might be an interpolation. 

1.A forest, Rama points out, is no place to raise children. There are cities nearby, or perhaps even Mithila, where they could grow among comfort and companionship—

A forest, Sita retorts, is where her sons will be born and where they will spend their next oh—ten years of life, so they might as well grow accustomed to it. The trees and plants provide quite enough in the way of comfort, and the birds and animals companionship, and really, she can’t see what else they might need.

Lakshmana, by now, is too wise to interfere in such debate; and so it is the cooing of the twin infants in their cribs that settles the matter.

2. And it’s just as well they stay, because in later years, the twins are quite adamant that there’s no place else they’d rather have spent their childhood.

—Well, Kush must add, except for the fact that it always gave Father an excuse to set them a thousand chores, all of which had some deeper lesson hidden in them. And of course, Uncle Lakshmana was always keeping an eye out for them, because how else did their parents know of all their petty misdeeds?

Which is silly, Luv thinks. Everyone knew it was the birds that spoke to Mother of all the boys’ sins, faithless friends that they were.

3. When they are nine, Mother tells them to go and hide in the caves beside their cottage. Luv doesn’t want to go—the darkness frightens him, grown boy though he is—and Kush protests on his behalf, but Mother’s voice is uncharacteristically sharp, and they obey.

They wait in the caves for what seems an eternity, and when at last Kush cannot bear Luv’s muffled sobs any longer, he says cautiously: “Mother only said go to the caves, which we did. She didn’t say anything about staying there.”

“Yes,” says Luv, with growing hope. “That’s right, she did.”

The sounds of battle draw them closer, curious boys that they are; and what they find is a terrible sight: a defense against the demons, the parents and uncle they so love altered by anger.

The twins retreat to the caves unasked, and when Mother comes to fetch them, they are relieved

They never speak of it. They never forget.

4. When the golden deer races past the cottage, Kush and Luv offer to bring it back.

Mother bites her lip uncertainly, but Father only laughs. He and Uncle Lakshmana would have done such things as boys, the twins know, and allowing Luv and Kush to do so is the least Father can do.

It leads them on a merry chase, but at last Luv loses his patience and shoots an arrow at it. It’s not a mortal wound—Mother has taught him that much—but it’s enough to make the deer’s form shimmer and twist, much to their surprise, and a silver-haired man rise slowly to his feet, staring at them.

“This,” he pronounces, “was not meant to happen.”

5. On their way back, they meet a sage. That’s nothing out of the ordinary; they’ve met more than their share, young as they are. What is strange is the way the sage’s face sags with disappointment when they speak of their mother.

“A mother?” he says. “To two sons?” He shakes his head and begins mumbling to himself. “She never mentioned that—fool that she is. And what sort of beauty has two children already?”

They can’t fathom what he means, which is perhaps fortunate; because they might take as much offense to the idea that their mother is no longer the most beautiful and accomplished woman in the world as to that he intends to steal her away by subterfuge.

http://odishasamaya.com/news/india/paswan-manjhi-fail-to-deliver-for-nda/63637

A look at the results highlight that Yadavs and Muslims were the major winners from Lalu Prasad’s RJD. Out of 49 candidates fielded by Lalu Prasad from his own Yadav caste, 42 emerged victorious. Similarly out of 16 Muslim candidates of RJD, 12 won indicating that ‘MY’ (Muslim and Yadav communities) still support Lalu Prasad.

In Chief Minister Nitish Kumar’s JD(U), the majority winners hailed from his fellow Kurmi caste (13), followed by Kushwaha and Yadav 11 each.

Victory of majority of Kurmi and Kushwaha caste candidates proved that Kumar continue to hold sway over “Luv-Kush” (Kurmi and Kushwaha), the strength of his party earlier too.

From Congress, upper castes candidates formed the majority winning 12 out of its tally of 27.

While four Brahmin candidates won on Congress symbol, three each Rajput and Bhumiyar and two Kayasthas.