NOVEL~*Hiding behind a Stranger*~ Thread 5~CHAPTER 10 - Upd 10th JULY - Page 113

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So, Akbar had to prompt his horse again.

And as they passed by the fence thereafter, his glances incidentally fell upon the pair of fair palms toiling away on the other side - inspecting and caring for those tender leaves with exquisite care. Palms that were graceful with whatever they handled, skillful with whatever they touched - be it 4 dams in a forest, or a few flowers in a garden.

"Soft and tender,smooth and white

Formed for winning and delight

Nature has no lovelier sight ----

Your beautiful hands!

Clasping ours through life and death

Lovingly to the last breath

Sweetest thing that comforteth -----

Your comforting hands!"

* * * * *

'Stop!' she shook her head - for, even in that troubled state, her subconscious knew the answers to all those questions. She'd lost her sense of composure, because she was annoyed with HERSELF. Annoyed with her mind for having acted illogically. Annoyed with her heart for having briefly misbehaved. Even if only for a moment, this unfamiliar 'misbehaviour' had somehow sneaked in - and shrouded her judgement.

Because try as she might, she couldn't deny that for a little while, she'd earnestly welcomed a gift that she assumed, was from the man. From a complete stranger!

"The Prince of my dream

Stands far away

from my life

And my dreams are

Full of disappointments..."

Yes, he'd saved her life. And yes, he helped abandoned children. But, what else did she know about him to begin having such anticipations at all? This was someone whom she'd barely met 4 days ago, and someone she'd never meet again 4 days later.

So, what in God's name had she been thinking? Why had she lost her sense of judgement and acted that way? Was it because her mind was eager for some distraction to escape the anguish it was suffering? Or, was life so lonely that she'd become desperate for some intelligent company after the demise of her jiji?

Main haveli...

At the terrace...

'Harka sahiba... quite the healer...' the words lingered on, although this topic was one of the reasons he'd abandoned the group. His gazes fell upon the grounds adjoining the guest quarters. And thereupon, on the neatest corner of the garden.

Despite the fact that he might have abruptly rode off from her presence that morning. Despite the fact he might not have admitted it yet - even to himself - there was little doubt that the patch of garden she'd tended to with such precision and care, was going to grow to become the most beautiful aspect of the entire haveli. Even in the sparse light of night, those saplings and flowerbeds appeared so tender and promising - as if hinting to anyone who gazed upon them, of the nature of the Sahiba who'd planted them.

"Who knows the bright secrets your ten fingers hold

The talents still hidden, adventures untold

The world is awaiting the wonders of you

For no one can copy what these hands can do!"

He took another sip of the delicious sherbet, his mind simultaneously taking another step into this unknown chasm he'd stumbled upon. As if the repeated recollections of her words and skills weren't enough, the thoughts were beginning to ruffle other memories too. Memories so evasive that they'd somehow found their way through all his walls and masks he'd kept intact for so long. Subtle memories, which had stubbornly lodged in a far corner of his mind - that try as he might, he couldn't oust them.

His thumb unwittingly rubbed the bare spot on his ring finger. It'd been a few days since he'd stopped wearing the brown topaz. But its absence somehow reminded him of the cherished ring even more. Like how the very pair of eyes he was meant to forget, never actually got forgotten.

'Well, most days, are good... and I can use my sight to get by... on those days that are bad, I use my senses to get by...'

He recalled how those elegant earthy eyes had twinkled with such self-assurance when she'd described her abilities, a night ago. And yet, how the same 'self-assured twinkle' that set them apart, had gone missing too. Just once. When she'd gone on to reveal a sinister secret

'There have been threats to my life...'

His jaw seemed to tighten for an instant, as it had on the previous night - a fleeting reaction to the morbid reality. But, why such a response? Wasn't she supposed to be only a stranger to him? Someone he'd met barely 4 days ago, and someone he'd never meet 4 days later. Then, why the anger?

Was it because his subconscious knew her spirit was unique, too unique to allow it to be extinguished? Was it because he knew she was a noble soul - a soul so noble that it would make any man want to protect its essence from dying out, though she'd never ask for such protection herself?

He felt a strange but certain twitch in his chest - and ironically, it was that unfamiliar twitch that brought him face to face with the facts.

Abruptly dragged out of the forbidden chasm he had entered, his fingers coiled around the neck of the cup 'Cursed fires of hell!' he swore under his breath in escalating anger. Six nights in a row - and the phenomenon was only getting worse. Why was he being affected by such thoughts and sensations? That too now, at such an inopportune moment.

Even as a man in his prime, he'd always managed to walk away from women as one would walk away from a dull statue - with apathy and disinterest. If so, why was that self-restraint not serving him well at present? Why was his mind not as steady lately? Didn't it realise that the life he'd chosen was too ominous and the paths he took too dark, to afford him the luxury of such mistakes?

This lapse was unacceptable, even if only temporary.

Still reeling from the crude awakening, Akbar glimpsed into his chalice, a sense of distaste overcoming the flavours he had been enjoying until now. 'Have they mixed something in this?'

Curtly dumping the sherbet into a potted plant nearby, he slammed the chalice upon a table on his way back to relieve some of the self-rage that'd built within.

'I am done for tonight...' the man gave his friends an abrupt explanation and stormed out of the chamber rightaway.

It was as though the person who'd been sipping a drink and savouring the night's delights until a while ago, was someone else altogether.

"Half of me runs with the lions at night

Feasting and sleeping on wide open plains

The other side keeps me safe in the light

Through the sleet and the snow, the hail and the rain.

I am open and fearless, quick on my feet

Nothing can slow me or hold me in place

I am closed and concealed, hidden from heat

No one but me will see my true face"

(Glossary of terms included in post below)