HBAS Chat corner - Page 116

Midway between Parnagarh and Manswar

The wilderness...

The crunch of his robust strides came to a slow standstill when he'd found his chosen lair. Angling his head up, he glimpsed through the mesh of his mask at the massive tree he stood under.

Covering its many ridges and imperfections, the trunk chose to clad a simple bark of brown. And yet its branches above sheltered a world in itself - the green of moss, the bustle of bees and the lively hum of several families of birds. Its roots were as firmly grounded as could be, asking very little of the soil. And yet it was powerful enough to face any raging storm that nature hurled its way.

However; if a disease were to worm its way within, eating away at its vulnerable core, all that would be left of this once powerful entity would be a hollow shell.

Drawing in a deep breath, the young man casually crossed one foot in front of another and leaned against the tree, shoulder-to-shoulder - before shifting focus to the current problem posing ahead - a problem that was tied-up, yet tight-lipped.

'Ready to talk yet?'

'I... I told you... I know nothing...' spluttered the prisoner frantically, his pupils darting like a mouse from one captor to the next. Tall and hefty Mughals they were, appearing ruthless behind the layer of their masks, wielding blades that were built for the kill. But the most ruthless of them all seemed to be the man who stood farthest behind. 'The leader!'

With the sun beating down in thick beams, he couldn't make out much of the man's face. But the nonchalant manner in which the leader poised was enough to challenge his own sanity. And his glares 'Lord' Those glares would turn stone to dust if they could.

'Wh... why am I here?' He tried to put on his bravest voice, though he could instantly sense what an abysmal failure the attempt was. 'What do you want from me?'

Folding his arms across his chest, the young man read his prisoner. The skin on that sweaty face was morphing into a healthy mix of colours. Brown from mud. Yellow from fear. And pink from exhaustion. 'Perfect! One hour at most now...' he bet against himself - one hour, and if he played his cards right the prisoner would give up the information they needed.

'So, what did Kunwar Mahendar and Khalil talk about?'

'I already told you...' the white of the prisoner's eyes grew twice as wide. 'I'm aware of none of it!'

He waited - giving the man another chance to change his story.

'Suit yourself!'

Coming away from the tree in no particular hurry, he sauntered about, as if taking a casual morning stroll in the gardens. Until he reached the plank - a long wooden board upon which was arranged a variety of knives - sharp, short, smooth, serrated - but all of them deadly. Flicking up between his fingers whichever knife took his fancy, he went on to add to his prisoner's anguish by pausing to observe his reflection in its metallic blade.

His first rule of interrogations - to never his let actions or emotions show urgency!

'Wh... who... are you? Wh... why are you doing this to me? Who do you work for?'

'Well...' the young man continued to flaunt his tryst with the blade 'By any chance... have you ever heard of the Ustaad?'

'The USTAAD?' The numbness in the prisoner's feet crawled up to his knees 'Ma Bhavani... help me!' For the first time was he grateful for the ropes that were cutting into his skin. Or he would've collapsed to the floor like a weakling! 'The Ustaad... you work for him? For that beast? For that monster?'

The Ustaad glanced up at his silently-amused group - just long enough to reveal a humour in his glances that was darker than the colour of his pupils.

'Yes...' he jested, keeping his lips straighter than an artist's measuring stick 'we work for the Ustaad'

'You work for that monstrous mentor who bathes in the blood of children and women? A man who doesn't sleep at night, unless his armies have crushed many innocent Hindu lives merely to fulfill his Huzoor's dreams?'

'My... my...' the Ustaad added an impassive shrug for greater effect 'you seem to know an awful lot about him'

His second rule of interrogations - to never let a prisoner ever doubt that he was indeed the most heartless man they'd met. Even if the truth was far from it.

'Not very intelligent... spewing hatred against your captors... especially NOT when you work for men who secretly meet with monsters too!'

The prisoner's eyelids twitched, before faltering towards the emptiness beneath him 'I.. I... told you... I have no knowledge of this...'

'I see' The Ustaad slowly turned away, seemingly deep in thought. With his back to the captive he thus stood for a while, not a sound not a stir. And with that, the entire show was dragged to an unsettling pause - even the twigs and leaves shushed themselves, it seemed.

Till the prisoner's heart-wrenching cries tore through the veil of silence.

'NOOO OOO AAargggh... gghhh... gggh!'

A knife had come at his shoulder blade faster than he could blink.

As the weapon ripped through his body, it was meant to burn like a torch on raw flesh. As warm blood escaped with each beat, leaving his body whiter and clothes redder, it was meant to drain his soul drop by drop. It was meant to...

'Wait... wh... what...' For whatever reason though, the only burn and blood he could feel was in his mouth - what with his quivering lips having cracked open from a spate of acute dryness. 'H... how...'

He spared a shaky corner glimpse at the glint of steel beside him. No, the knife had not ripped the blade of his shoulder apart. Rather, it'd ripped the bark of the tree, a mere sliver above his shoulder. Was this slip a mistake, or intentional?

His worried eyes swerved around, back to where the shooter stood.

One look at the leader's casually-tilted head, and the prisoner realised that his shoulder blades had been deliberately 'missed'. But HOW did he do this?

Well, his third rule of interrogations - to keep a prisoner guessing. Always.

'So...' scoffed the Ustaad, picking up his next weapon of choice 'What have Kunwar Mahendar and Khalil been discussing about? Parnagarh?'

'I... I've already told you... I don't know!'

The next instant, the captive was blinded by a short flash as another blade caught light on its way to him. And this time, it even managed to neatly pin the sleeve of his right arm to the tree behind.

'Impressive...' the group broke out into a bout of low claps 'very very impressive'

'Oh don't...' the Ustaad waved his palm in a show of false humility 'don't let him get too comfortable, my men... I was only warming up... I'm known to make mistakes too...' he paused 'unless of course, the prisoner decides to tell us the truth... by letting us in on WHY Kunwar Mahendar and Khalil became so friendly... did it start with the Shehenshah's Farmaan?'

'I... I... I... I kn... know nothin' the prisoner's stutters were getting progressively worse despite all of his attempts to keep his sentences in a straight line 'I told you... I know NOTHING... ooouuuccchhh...' he yelped suddenly, as he felt the hair on his scalp being pulled.

The third blade had come whizzing by, raiding right through a tuft of his fluffy hair - before stopping tight and pretty on a spot just above his head.

It sent the audience into a snickering spree.

'Go on...' the prisoner snivelled, his tears mixing with snot 'mock me... humiliate me... kill me... I am not afraid... I am not afraid of death'

'Tch tch tch tch...' the Ustaad clicked his tongue 'I don't intend to kill you... you have information very important to us... we NEED you alive... but yes... we will leave you in a state wishing you were dead instead! So pray tell me... why would you be ready to undergo such pain for men, who have no issues teaming up with monsters that murdered one of their own - a woman, no less! Unless of course...' he paused, his expressions a curious mix of scepticism and scorn 'unless YOU men had a hand in wanting her dead too'

'WHAT???? NO!'

'Tch tch tch tch... the nerve... and you accuse us of being criminals!'

'NO! It's a lie. I work for Kunwar Tejraj. He is my Hukum, my friend... no one else' the prisoner spat his words out with a fresh surge of strength. Strength from pride, possibly. 'And my Hukum is a good man... he would do NO such thing!'

'Well then... if your Kunwar Tejraj is a good man - as you boast... he would stand for the truth... would he not?' he used a tone sharper than his blades, to claw at the man's fragile ego. 'Or, is he spineless?'

'HE is not spineless! He has given Kunwarsa Mahendar his word'

'If HE has given the Kunwar his word, why don't you spare yourself the pain and lighten your Hukum's conscience by speaking the truth?'

'I'm loyal to my Hukum. I'll tell you lot nothing'

'So basically...' smirked the Ustaad 'you just admitted that you're covering up the truth... which implies that Kunwar Mahendar has plenty of dirty deeds to hide'

'What?' the prisoner stared on like a thief whose charade had been caught 'I never said that... you're putting words in my mouth!'

For about ten hard blinks, the Ustaad glared at his mulish prisoner - after which, he decided he'd had enough! He wasn't the type to engage in such lengthy conversations or coddle even his closest mates. This man was after all, a pawn, that too from the enemy side. 'Go on... show him the surprise we've been keeping from him'

A limp sack that'd been lying aside, good as invisible all this while, abruptly turned into the object of many-a-glimpse as one of the men proceeded to untie it.

'No... no... NOOO NOOO NOOO NOOO NOOO !' His heart-wrenching screams ricocheted to the skies and back - the screams of a man who stood defeated, as he recognised the child-sized tunic hanging from the tip of a knife, that was splattered with blood and mud. 'My son... WHAT have you done to him? You beasts...'

The Ustaad watched on, barely a flinch on his smooth skin.

His fourth rule of interrogations - if a sane man would not buckle under the threat to his family - the threat to his first-born son - there would be nothing else in this world that could get him to buckle! 'Want to speak now?'

'What have you done to my son? Let me go to him... the Gods will never forgive you... WHY... WHY are you doing this? WHY?'

'Because a thousand lives depend on it!' The Ustaad let slip an apparently detached sigh 'Because our Sahib wants to keep tabs on all that Khalil has been up to'

'No... you... you... you are lying, aren't you? This dress could be any child's... it's not my son's' The prisoner was aware that he was only grasping at air in his attempts to climb out of this hell-hole.

And he got his response, when a second piece of garment was picked up from the sack - a small red skirt.

'Laado!' wailed the father in him 'My daughter... what have you done to her?'

'Convinced? Or, need more evidence?'

'NOOO!' Had they tormented his family like the grisly tales said? Plundered his wife's modesty and left her for dead? Sold his children to the slave market? Or, had they killed them all? 'WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY FAMILY?'

The Ustaad finally decided to throw his prisoner a short yet life-saving rope, allowing him a way out of this misery. 'They are alive'

'W... wh... what? Oh my God!' his cries swayed between disbelief and relief 'They are ALIVE?'

'Decide - want to protect rogues? Or, your innocent children? One signal from me... and...'

When the prisoner took a blink longer than he should've to reply, the signal was given. 'Go on, my men... do what you must...'

The group instantly fell in line, offered their master a salute and took off in the direction of their steeds.

But they didn't have to go far -

'Wait... please stop!' his head hung low as he let the tears dry out 'I'm done covering for the womanising alcoholic Kunwar, who is an insult to us honourable Rajputs... but... but... first... tell me... is my family safe?'

Oh yes they were safe - possibly napping in their own terrace now, from where his men had nicked these clothes off the laundry line.

'They will be safe... if you tell us the truth AND do what we tell you to'

'I will... I'll do as you say'

Walking up to the Ustaad, Ibrahim threw a subtle gaze up at the sunny skies, and then one back at his friend. 'Not too long' he winked. 'Well done'

'Thank you'

However, the Ustaad was in no mood to celebrate yet. For, he knew that this breakthrough was only the first of many hurdles that they still had to cross. And the hurdles had to be crossed fast.

The Haveli's gardens..

A smile ruffled its way through the gathering. Followed by a bout of loud cheers. And claps too.

However, outshining the gleam of those loud celebrations on this pleasant evening was the quiet sunny smile of the baisa of Parnagarh. An unsurpassable smile. A mother's smile.

Merely a week after resorting to a desperate treatment, what with all else failing to work, she could behold the fruit of her perseverance today - a truly proud and pain-free Mohan banna, for the first time since his amputation.

'Thank you everyone...' Heera put her gardening clippers aside and wiped the dirt off her palms 'On the contrary... it is I who should be grateful to the Goddess ... for blessing me with friends and family like yourselves... thank you'

Her mellow smile was distracted by an unexpected yet gentle gust that'd just brushed past her lips. There was a new freshness in the air - it wasn't there until a moment ago. Her glances halted at the chrysanthemums she'd been pruning - its stalks flapping back and forth, as if trying to tell her something. Could the wind be bringing her news? News of his arrival? After four days of barrenness? 'You felt that too?' she secretly stroked the underside of its petals.

But, was it possible that her Sahib had already managed to accomplish what he'd set out for? 'Or, am I wishfully thinking?'

Suddenly, a few distant echoes wafted in, from the South-Easterly hillocks.

'The Mansabdar Sahib is here...'

'He's back!!!'

The air of leisure amongst the gathering instantly vanished.

Gardeners dropped whatever they'd been doing and pushed aside the gardening tools lying in the way. Guards fell in line, shoulders back, chin up. Women dusted the mud off their skirts and pulled the veils over their faces. Maids, led by Gauri, took their place beside the Lady.

Amidst all of this, Heera was the only one who was in no hurry to finish what she'd been doing so far - conversing with that little floral confidante. 'We were right, weren't we?'

Not long thereafter, the boundless curtains of green were interrupted by a welcome drift from a band of riders charging up the hillocks, jointly led by the Mansabdar on his black stallion. Arriving at the Haveli, the two groups broke out into a few cordial pleasantries with his mates greeting their Sahiba at first, and the remaining Parnagarhis thereafter, before heading off for the stables.

The Sahib on the other hand, slowed his steed down to a halt, at a spot not far from where his Begum stood, for a better glimpse of her features.

Not surprisingly, the development led to all sorts of amused exchanges between the maids. But they were careful not to get too carried away - lest they missed what was to come next.

'Salaam' He greeted the Parnagarhis with a quick nod.

'The half-nod!' Bindiya had to quickly stifle a snicker.

Her reaction spurred a few more quiet snickers amongst the rest, before they straightened up in haste and responded with a bow. 'Salaam Mansabdar Sahib...'

'Salaam...' Akbar then went on to offer his Begum a long Taslim, the length of his palm concealing a looming smile as he did so. 'Salaam Begum Sahiba...'

Heera wished him back - as gracefully as he had greeted her. 'Salaam Khan Sahib... welcome back.'

There was a brief pause, everyone wondering when he would charge off for his chambers - for prayers, meetings and whatnot - so he could return to her within the hour.

But this time around, the scenes unfurled a tad bit differently - bringing their successful run of predictions to an abrupt end. The young Sahib didn't charge off straightaway. Instead, whirling the riding whip up in one swift hook, Akbar dismounted his horse at the gardens, surprising all - even the woman who knew him most.

Striding across the manicured paths, he stopped right in front of his Begum Sahiba, the horse-whip sitting firmly within his clasp, at his back.

'Would you care to ride with me?'

'Wh... what?'

There was stark silence.

But, a few murmurs too.

There were wide-eyed stares.

And several simpers too.

Everyone was awestruck. Pleasantly so.

But all Heera did was smile a fond smile in response. 'When?'

'Now?'

'To where?'

He let his head slide Westwards 'To the woods and back?'

The woods? Why not? 'But before anything else...' she bridged her brows ever so slightly, noting how his features wore an almost inscrutable calmness as he asked her out. Something was up. 'The woods? Sure, Khan Sahib'

The Woods..

'I apologise for the silly behaviour of my maids back there... honestly speaking, they adore you' Her eyelids went up, to thieve a glance of his expressions.

He was smiling already - clueing her in that he was aware of her thieving ways. 'I know they do'

'I like it, Khan Sahib, you know... when you smile'

'I know' Wanting to favour his woman with a rare gleam, Akbar then peeked down at the one who'd made his chest her home - both, figuratively, and now, pretty much literally.

Snuggling onto him again, she tightened her grip around the thick of his arms that were tethered around her on both sides like bolsters - a posture that he hadn't once changed since the ride had started.

'So... how was your trip?' she gently slipped the query in once Bahadur was brought to a resting halt sometime later.

'It went well...'

'You want to talk about it? I take it that is why we are here...'

'That... is... ONE of the reasons...'

So there WERE a few different reasons for them being here now? Heera slowly sat up. 'Have you already located Kunwar Tejraj's friend?'

'Located and interrogated'

'Interrogated?' She wet her lips from a sudden unease. 'My... that was quick...'

She couldn't ask her husband about the prisoner straightaway. Of course, her Sahib was anything but heartless, but she couldn't get herself to talk of the unpleasantness the prisoner might've gone through to give them what they wanted. Neither could she ask him about the information the prisoner might've coughed up, since she wasn't sure her stomach was strong enough to deal with those horrors either. So, dealing with the twinges of queasiness, Heera took a while to speak up, delaying the inevitable. He made being grey seem quite easy. For her gentler heart, it was anything but!

'Well... I realise the trip must've been taxing...'

'Heera...' Akbar pushed behind the long tresses that were flailing against her face. 'You were right, Kunwar Tejraj and Kunwar Mahendar are not on good terms... in fact, Kunwar Tejraj despises his cousin's actions - all made in a quest for power'

'I... I... I see...'

'Heera... it was all... part of an elaborate ploy'

He lifted her chin, so she would look into his eyes and derive strength from his. For, she would need every ounce of strength to hear what he was going to say. And he was going to say plenty!

'Like the rest of the businessmen and merchants who were vying for Parnagarh's iron ores, Kunwar Mahendar wanted it too... and hatched a plan to woo your sister to be able to gain authority over the lands...'

'An elaborate ploy...' Heera gnawed the inside of her cheeks, feeling the burn in her throat worsen.

'Only a month to go before you're his forever, jiji!'

'When you'd said 'exciting', jiji... you were referring to the 'special someone' sitting in the opposite tent, weren't you?'

'Jijasa is smitten by you... but, I am not surprised...'

'No doubt, you are fortunate to have found him... however, HE is luckier... to have found you!'

'An elaborate ploy indeed!'

She pulled the veil across. When that wasn't enough, she wrapped herself tighter within its folds. When even that wouldn't do, she criss-crossed her shaky hands in front 'please continue, Khan Sahib... I do want to hear more...'

'When the Farmaan became public knowledge, Kunwar Mahendar tried asking Durga Sahiba to hand it to him. But it didn't work. And when he heard that our Huzoor sent Khalil out to seize it forcefully, he became fretful that his efforts would go to waste. So, he decided to send a message... to Khalil... suggesting a friendship of convenience that would supposedly benefit them both. They met at the borders of Gujarat. The Kunwar handed over the Haveli's floorplans and security as promised. But Khalil didn't keep up his end of the bargain and...'

Akbar paused. He was as tough as they came. But however hard he'd steeled himself, he couldn't continue at that point. Not when she was visibly suffering thus.

He brought his hand up, to comfort her.

Almost reflexively though, the skin on her arm flinched away from his touch. He made a second attempt. It happened again. After all, even if she didn't intend to recoil, he HAD come as the bearer of bad news.

So, this time when he took his palms up to her, he made certain to hold her still until she would flinch no more.

With not a word said, the young man pulled her in softly, resting his lips against her forehead. 'Oh my love...I feel sorry for you'

His breaths were slow, making her fragrance an eternal part of him. Was it because he wanted to compose her? Or, was it because he wanted to compose himself first? A bit of both, maybe.

'Heera...' he then whispered, and in a tone so balmy that it somehow managed to soothe her bruised soul - at least, briefly.

'Go on...' she eventually quivered, her lips a glacial blue 'please get this done with, Khan Sahib'

'Alright...' his lip tautened to a faint line 'allegedly, Kunwar Mahendar was guilty about what happened to your sister. But not guilty enough to stop him from chasing his goals...which is why he jumped at the opportunity to wed you, when your Kakasa suggested the proposal'

'No he wasn't guilty enough, was he?'

'An unmarried Rajput lady, who defies society... authority... and even her family... stayed at a Mughal businessman's house... spent time in his company... traditionally, we Rajputs know to keep away from Mughals... but...'

'Ma Bhavani... not only are the Mughals taking our lands... they're taking our women too!'

'Maasa... Bapusa... and all this while she's been maligning MY character... shameful indeed...'

'Imagine the scandal when the rest of our community come to know of this...'

'So, after humiliating me... after trampling all over my sister's raped and discarded body...' she whimpered 'he went back to meet Khalil, did he?'

'Yes' Akbar groaned against her cold skin, wiping the expected tear that came streaming down her cheeks 'he did'

'WHY? WHY did he do that?'

His lashes came down as he held her tighter than he was an instant ago. 'Because I suspect he wanted to find out my true identity. And he is desperately trying to bring me down... as revenge for keeping you, Parnagarh AND an easy path to power, away from him'

'No... no... no... no...' She knew all of this already. She feared all of this already. But, his stormy words had just flamed those embers of fears into a blaze. 'NO!' As if his life wasn't a daily struggle of dodging death already, a powerful Kunwar was unleashing evil forces after her Sahib's life? And much against her wishes, she was the one who'd opened doors to this Satan, leading him directly to her Sahib!

'Will this ever stop, Khan Sahib?' Heera slumped forth, her face buried, her body shaking vulnerably in his embrace like a child orphaned all over again, bawling louder than she'd bawled at the sight of her sister's death. 'Will we ever live worry-free?'

'Ai Khuda... give her strength'