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She was oh! so angry, she could stub a 1000 ants under her toes and not feel their pain. She was like a wounded tigress. How could he? How dare he? What the hell did he think of himself? Who the hell does he think he is?
Tara was raging like a dragon's fire. She hated him, loathed him, simply terrible, terrible man, O, so loathsome.
She suddenly had a vision of the man who saved her and the man who tended to his horse lovingly. No, she did not want to be distracted by these images, these visions of that man, that fake man. It was all an act! Really? her conscience questioned her. Did you think that he had an idea you would come to the ujada chaman in search of him?
She just negated all this and shook herself mentally. No! she was going to make him pay. Make him pay for putting her through so much of torture and sadness. She will sweep away all second thoughts and doubts and go all out to teach him a valid lesson. Hmph!
Tara, walked towards the ujada chaman in the dead of the night. It was dark and the shiny knife in her hand was reflecting the silver pearled moonlight. She hid it stealthily behind her duppatta.
She came to the ujada chaman, the gate was open and creaking soundlessly in the silent night breeze that was rife with the scent of jasmine, hacedias, and astor.
She tip-toed across the breadth of the courtyard and reached the window to peep in to the arterior room where MJ usually slept. She did not find anything there. The moonlight reflected off the barren wooden platform of the bench.
Where was he? Where was her tormentor? Where the hell is he?
She stealthily walked around the barn, petted Maira, and just beyond the haystack, she could see some flash of white that was reflecting the moonlight. She held the knife point ready for attack, and she peeped around the haystack, to find...
Mrityunjay Shekawat lying in cold blood...bludedgoned by someone on his head.
The knife shook and fell to the ground. A silent scream rented the air and she forgot all that she came there for, as she leaped towards Mrityunjay's pliant body.
Her world would end and begin with him...
Tara was raging like a dragon's fire. She hated him, loathed him, simply terrible, terrible man, O, so loathsome.
She suddenly had a vision of the man who saved her and the man who tended to his horse lovingly. No, she did not want to be distracted by these images, these visions of that man, that fake man. It was all an act! Really? her conscience questioned her. Did you think that he had an idea you would come to the ujada chaman in search of him?
She just negated all this and shook herself mentally. No! she was going to make him pay. Make him pay for putting her through so much of torture and sadness. She will sweep away all second thoughts and doubts and go all out to teach him a valid lesson. Hmph!
Tara, walked towards the ujada chaman in the dead of the night. It was dark and the shiny knife in her hand was reflecting the silver pearled moonlight. She hid it stealthily behind her duppatta.
She came to the ujada chaman, the gate was open and creaking soundlessly in the silent night breeze that was rife with the scent of jasmine, hacedias, and astor.
She tip-toed across the breadth of the courtyard and reached the window to peep in to the arterior room where MJ usually slept. She did not find anything there. The moonlight reflected off the barren wooden platform of the bench.
Where was he? Where was her tormentor? Where the hell is he?
She stealthily walked around the barn, petted Maira, and just beyond the haystack, she could see some flash of white that was reflecting the moonlight. She held the knife point ready for attack, and she peeped around the haystack, to find...
Mrityunjay Shekawat lying in cold blood...bludedgoned by someone on his head.
The knife shook and fell to the ground. A silent scream rented the air and she forgot all that she came there for, as she leaped towards Mrityunjay's pliant body.
Her world would end and begin with him...
Arjun
