"Bandook chalani aati hai kya?!"

2 years ago

twerping

@twerping

The Present (contd)

She rises to close the distance and as her lips find his, she feels him smile into the kiss. His hands are not idle and push against her bare skin, having made short work of her kameez. See-sawing between urgent and gentle, his fingers rub against her waist, drawing her towards him with practised ease. As he presses down on her, her arms pull him even closer, her palms running against the taut muscles of his back. She cannot stop the twitch that his ministrations provoke and he tightens his hold of her even as she looks into his glittering eyes with an answering gleam in her own...

Flashback

"Bandook chalani aati hai kya?!"

(Do you even know how to shoot that gun?!)

Hooriya

Hooriya never saw the glitter in his eyes as he caught hold of her hand. Clouded as her mind was with the horrors of what awaited them now, she was spared the sight of gleaming triumph in Malik Balaj's eyes. It had been a burst of relief that coursed through her when she shepherded Minhal into the waiting vehicle that would take them to the bus depot. There they found the bus headed for Karachi. It was all going according to plan till they realised amidst the madness they had forgotten to bring any money. However, as she was trying to think up a solution to this, they finally hit the very wall they were running from. The sight of Balaj walking up to their bus made her feel like she had fallen into a pit of quicksand. It was only a matter of minutes before the sand would close above her head.

Hiding her face in the burkha, Hooriya couldn't help but follow the sound of his boots as Balaj made his slow way down the aisle. When he walked past her, she held her breath. There was an eerie silence in the bus broken only by the gusty wind that rolled through the windows. Hooriya felt Minhal clutching at her arm and she gave an involuntary shudder. The numbness was replaced with a desperation that roiled within her. Nothing must happen to her sister. Minhal would be spared whatever punishment awaited her. There was no way the man would dare to make her lift the veil. Hooriya held on to the sliver of hope this thought brought her. 

It had seemed they might still get away. He had walked ahead and she could make out his hulking form with his back to her. She gave an answering press on Minhal's hand. She could feel her sister trembling beside her. And then his hand was on hers. Grasping hard enough to make her wince. As she struggled to free herself from that painful hold, he bent low. Bringing his face closer. She refused to look at him. And then he was up again. She barely heard what he said, shocked as she was when he removed her veil. On reflex, she tried to hide her face but then realisation struck her and she knew they had been found out.

It was Minhal that gave her the courage. She had to fight to get her sister out of this hell. Watching the arrogant complacency of the hulking thug, Hooriya felt escape was still within her grasp. As long as there was life coursing through her veins, there was hope. She simply needed to poke at his weakness. After all, he wouldn't actually shoot at them now, would he? As she finally made a run for it, calling out to Minhal to follow her, she still did not lose faith. However, looking back at the sight of Minhal surrounded by gun-wielding boors, Hooriya knew she would have to change her escape plan. 

Balaj

One...Two...Ten

The bus rolled in then

Inside the bus sat our bird

A bird, a doll, a song not heard...

See our bird in peril

Soon the tiger had his fill.

When he was a boy, Balaj would play hide and seek with the boys of the servants of the estate. Running around the mango grove, he would croon out the counting rhyme before pouncing on the first trembling shoulder he caught sight of amidst the green furze. It was the next best thing to hunting since he was not allowed to actually play with the air rifle unsupervised till the age of seven. He had instead honed his talents for tracking down his playmates, bolstered by the unnatural silence of a fruit orchard in summer.

The sight of the girls in the bus trying to hide behind the veil unknowingly brought Balaj that same frisson of childish delight. For a moment, Balaj even forgot Taaya Sarkar's ominous words, "Return with the girls or return with arrangements for my funeral." Words that had left his ears ringing, setting fire to his soul. Yet when he saw the bus ahead of him on the road, he did feel like laughing out. It was like plucking a mango hanging low and ripe on a bough. Like snaring the unwary rabbit one has set his eyes upon. Like landing the final punch in the wrestler's pit. Malik Balaj had caught his prey. 

Inside the bus, the girls stuck out like sore thumbs. He stifled his amusement and instead decided to tease. Walking past them, he pretended to peer around him, confused, troubled. When he turned around sharply and caught her hand, the jump she gave was exactly the sight he wanted to see. Sadqey! So much for her blustering, she had fallen into his grasp, even as she struggled. He had to concede, this girl was full of surprises. And since he was yet to come across anyone, particularly a girl, capable of besting him, Balaj found pleasure in meeting her pitiful struggles head-on.

A few moments later, however, the amusement was all gone. This girl knew no limits. He was fine with her challenging him with a gun, not that she even knew how to shoot! But she decided to try another one of her stupid tricks. Did she have no shame? Throwing a stone at him, like it would make any difference! Then actually making a run for it! Of all the nonsense he was yet to see. Had even a single guard laid his hands on her in an attempt to stop her, Malik Balaj would have found himself obliged to cut off the rascal's hands. But of course, his men knew better. As he caught her and dragged her away, kicking and screaming like a hoyden, Balaj realised he would be glad only once she was locked away in the deepest darkest dungeon he could find.