Chapter 7 - Of song and Art
As it grew dark, Mahira ventured out into the outer garden to fetch water from the well. the well was ancient and gigantic. 3 sets of wheels were attached with long ropes that had buckets tied at the bottom. As she pulled the bucket out with a great tug, water sloshed upon half drenching her from the lower waist. Setting down the offending bucket at the base, she kneeled and washed her face and hands.
Adaq Khan had invited her to join the Durbar hall this evening.It was the place where the jaigirdaar was supposed to hold his court in the morning and meet with his courtiers for discussions, plannings and entertainment occasionally. Now it had lost all his grandeur. Villagers no longer would assembled here seeking justice,or palace staffs hover catering to the whims of the noblemen. Adaq khan and the members of the fort gathered there time to time in the evening to talk about days affair,banter amongst themselves and wonder their fate...on days when his mood was not very morose, Azad joined them too.
Mahira looked down at her dress disappointingly. she couldnot bring her trunk full of beautiful clothes when she crept away stealthily from Zaffarganj. Saving her life and Abbu's books were her 1st priority then, she had not even given a thought how she was supposed to sustain in two sets dresses day after day. Both of them were in bad shapes now, almost in pieces. She had mended them as much as she could but soon they would become worse than rags. She now would wear the one she wore yesterday. She had washed it and laid out to dry this morning before going to the library. It would be dry by now.
She combed and plaited her hair while all the while thinking whom to ask for spare clothes. Perhaps she could ask Gazalla if Badi begum gave away her old clothes to the poor and needy as she knew virtuous Emiras often did. She might get some from her then. Although it was unlikely for her to fit in Badi begum's clothes without alteration. Begum was petite and graceful.
Mahira on the otherhand, had generous curves on her hips and bosoms while her waist was narrow and shoulder well shaped.Her neck held the gracefulness of a proud swan.she was taller than her too. Jabheda khala once remarked unkindly, her body was formed to be a courtesan, not an honest man's wife.
Mahira immediately dismissed those cruel memories from her mind. She had left them far away.
Finally, satisfied with her appearance Mahira made her way to Durbar.
The place was well maintained than the other bare halls and was adequately furnished. Cushioned armchairs were placed around a large throne like wooden chair with velvet seat and colorful canopy atop it. In the centre a large table fit to serve 50 people lay bare except for a pitcher. Adaq khan was stirring contents of the pitcher with an iron churner.
''Can I help with anything ?'', Mahira smiled as he looked up hearing her light footsteps.
Before he could say anything, another familiar figure in red velvet sauntered in. The gold medallion hung from his neck as before.
''Latif !'', Mahira exclaimed, pleased to see one of the saviours of her first night at Janjgarhgaon, once again.
''Ah Mohtarma ! So u have found your way to the fort ! How delightful !'' Latif swept an well-practiced bow.
''We see few visitors here. Much fewer lovely ladies''
Mahira cheeks tingled in embarrassment.
'' You honey mouthed devil ! Keep those flattery to yourself !'' , Adaq khan warned. ''She is not used to these sugarcoated compliments. She is a scholar's daughter not the spawn of an opportunist courtier.''
But Lautif hardly took him seriously and shrugged, giving Mahira warm cordial smiles all the while.
Adaq khan had prepared rose flavored thandai lassi and Mahira offered to do the distribution. She poured it carefully in clean earthen glasses. Mir baksh joined soon after, he had brought Shiraz with him. A soon as the dog saw Mahira it shoot past others and put his head between her feet licking and nipping at her toes. As she stroked its fur with her slender fingers, the animal's head lolled,eyes half shut in ecstasy.
''Aho! An uncanny power of taming monsters you have, eh mistress ?'' Mir baksh's eyes gleamed mischievously.
''Shiraz is just a bigbodied sweetheart'' Mahira laughed as she petted its head and ran fingers behind its ears.The dog nearly swept the floor with vigorous wagging of his tail and drooled like an besotted lover.
'' Oh definitely it is...and so are others''.
''Those who appear frightening are actually big hearted softies''. Mirbaksh wriggled the thick bushes of his eyebrows suggestively.
'' And u will have plenty of opportunities to hone ur talent here. We would be most grateful to watch you performing miracles''. Lautif winked and they laughed at their own private joke.
'Stop speaking nonsense'', Adaq khan bellowed, his voice thick with warning.
Turing to Mahira, who was gaping at the prankster duo and trying to fathom the puns they implied, he added kindly, ''what are you waiting for, dear ! The thandai sarbet will soon grow warm !''
''But will you not wait for the Lord Jaigirdaar ?'' Mahira was utterly surprised at this obvious breach of chivalry.
''He is most likely not coming down here. Huzoor rarely joins us.'' Adaq Khan's mouth was set in a tight line.
Oh but was that because of my presence?
Mahira wondered looking visibly disappointed.
Mir Baksh fixed his clever beady eyes upon her for a moment and pondered something. A sly smile hovered in his lips.He shook his head as if to dismiss the thought he just had and landed a heavy fist on the table.
''But he might come down today. I bet a Mohur ( gold coin) that he does''.
Lautif narrowed his eyes and examined the area. He cocked his head in a question to Mir Baksh. Mirbaksh subtly gestured at Mahira and winked. Lautif's face illuminated in mischief and he bellowed,
''2 Mohurs ,Brother, if he does not ! ''
And they almost fell down snickering in some implicit jest.
Mahira's eyes went round. What just happened !
Just then Gazalla entered the hall and stated in her usual emotionless tone that Huzoor was not feeling well enough to join them at the Durbar. They were requested to entertain themselves without waiting for him.
It looked as if someone blew the candle off everyone's face. Lautif and MirBaksh sobered up instantly and looked apologetically at Mahira. Adaq khan heaved great sighs intermittently .
''This drink tastes wonderful',Mahira complimented eager to disperse the tension.
''This is humble, lass'', Adaq said in a melancholy tone. He was still smarting from Azad's refusal to come down.
''This was once a fine household.A grand fortress that sheltered hundreds of civilians. The Emir's family lived in prosperity and befitting grandeur. Scores of serving men were ready at their disposal.This Durbar held splendid courts on morning and lively entertainments in the evening. Exotic foods and expensive drinks flowed endless. This bare floors had thick covers of finest Turkish rugs. Alas Chokri ! You should have seen Janjgarh in its days of glory.''
Mahira heart went out for the old man.
''What changed everything, Chachajan ?'' , she gently prodded.
''Then the great fire happened. Badi Begum almost died. She lay unconscious for 10 nights, pale and cold as dead. When she woke up, she was a changed woman. A mere image of her previous self. Bade Huzoor Sirkar, Azad's father committed suicide after a couple of months.Everything changed. Strangest things began to happen, everyone thought it was the effect of curse. They fled in flocks. only the most devoted ones remained.''
There was a pindrop silence in the hall for a moment. Even the dog sat under the table etched in stone.
Mahiras eyes prickled with tears. To lose one's father early was painful, she knew by her own experience, but to be abandoned by him, she could not even dare to imagine. No wonder the boy grew up to be such an isolated man,suspicious of everyone.
As the air grew suffocatingly heavy, Mir Baksh suddenly cried out loudly, forcing joviality in his voice,'' I have heard there were nautch girls to entertain the courtiers, and bards with songs of valor and love. We dont have dancers anymore but fortunately we still have someone who can entertain us with a song''. He slapped Lautif's back fondly and grinned.
''Lautif could sing !'' Mahira thought they were jesting again.
''Oh yes and he is a master lancer too ! A true troubadour , a soldier and a bard !'' Mir Baksh was determined to clear off the depressing air of the grand room.
Lautif led out a crooked smile and bowed cheekily at the compliment.
''Since Mohtarma is new here and didnot receive a befitting welcome...I think a song would lift her spirit''. Mir Baksh grinned like a wel-fed cat, evidently pleased of his scheme.
''Who knows she might make up her mind to stay here forever, if only to hear u singing again, Lautif !'
Adaq snorted but didnot oppose.
Lautif cleared his throat and sat silent for a moment with his eyes closed. Then in a well pitched baritone, he began an old lilting strain.
Jo afsaane dil ne buney unko koi dil hi suney
Hum haule haule pyaar ki dhundhli fizayon mein aaye
Gehre gehre hain khwaab ki neeli ghatayon ke saaye
Hum tum dono khoye khoye sapne dekhein jaage soye
Gumsum hayraan...
Ye jo zindagi hai koi dastaan hai
Kab hoga kya ye khabar kahan hai.
Mahiras heart soared and bubbles of unknown emotions flitted within it...she thought she never heard something more melodious and meaningful before.Someone from long forgotten past wrote these poignant lines from his own life ...but how wonderfully it captured the essence of her heart's unsettling condition.She even forgot to breathe.
As the last remnants of the strain faded into the air, Mahira picked up a heavy brass candelabrum with 4 taper candlesticks and set for her chamber absentmindedly, still under the spell of the haunting melody.
The lines seemed to have seared into her brain...if she tried she could sing in exact wordings from beginning to end precisely from memory.
Hesitatingly in a low pitch she attempted,
Behti hain chingariyaan jaise sar se paon tak nas nas mein
Halka halka hosh hai lekin kuchh bhi nahin ab mere bas mein
Her heart fluttered. With noboby within hearing distance ...she could sing those amazing lines without receiving disapproving glares. Her Abbu was a great connoisseur of classical music although she was not actually trained by any Ustad, she had a natural melodious voice.
As she passed through a low passage thick with darkness,she hummed loudly.
Mere ang ang mein becheini bijli banke lehraaye
Ek meethe meethe dard ka badal tan man par chhaye
The way her voice reverberated and came back to whisper in her ears like words of forbidden love thrilled her to the core.Walking alone late night in such a dark frightening alley of a strange fort with only candlesticks, she felt strangely defiant and liberated. Darkness didnot intimidate her, nor her being alone. She had nothing to be terrified of in this place. It was way beyond the reach of Zaroon and his innovative torturing methods.
She was free at last, she could dream to be happy now, to be loved even !
She twirled on her own, giddy with her newfound confidence. Unnamed longings encircled her.
Saansein uljhe dhadke yeh dil
lekin jaane kaisi meri mushkil hogi aasaan
The flames of the candlesticks danced with her. Her voice soared higher as she nimbly climbed down the steps and almost glided to the archway that marked the doorway of jenanaghar.
With all pent up emotions vibrating in her throat, she sang the concluding couplets :
Ye jo zindagi hai koi dastaan hai / Kab hoga kya ye khabar kahan hai
Ye jo zindagi hai koi carvaan hai / Kahan jayegi ye khabar kahan hai.
and sighed wistfully.
How very truthful. Who knows what life had in store for her ? what surprise waiting in the next turn !
Suddenly she grew alert. Something moved in the shadow.
Words died in her throat. She raised her candelabrum, arm shaking under its weight and fear.
A tall figure in a jet black robe and unruly dark hair emerged from the darkness and appeared in her line of vision. The bright ochre eyes, boring holes into her and those lush lips slightly parted. The chiseled chin reflected the flickering candle light.
Mahira thought she was seeing a vision.
Merciful allah ! Raheem Azad Mirza himself !
For one timeless moment they suspended their breaths and stared intently into each others eyes. The feeble candles in the candelabrum flickered. Cricket buzzed in the garden below.
Words froze in their throats.
Mahira could not bear the intense expressions of his eyes anymore and lowered her eyelashes. Her neck flushed crimson and her ears burned.
He had caught her singing !
And possibly twirling !
Would he think her a lowly nachnewali ? Was Jabheda khala right all along saying she had impulses of courtesan in her veins ?
But when she looked up and searched his eyes, there was no judgement or resentment in them. Something beyond that, unreadable and scalding hurtled towards her. A wave of shiver ran through her spine and her knees felt watery.
Azad took a step forward. As if on its own accord her foot took a step back.
He held out his hand as if asking her not to back out. She forgot to breathe.
Mahira eyes behaved as they were glued to him. He had shaven and the dimple stood prominent between his chin and lower lip offering his mouth endearing look. She opened her mouth but no words came, only his eyes darkened as his gaze shifted from her eyes to her mouth. Desire swirled in them.
For a split second, she thought she saw flames in the circle of his irises. Her eyes widened and her body instinctively jumped few steps behind till her back hit the wall. The impact jolted her to reality and she looked around suddenly aware of her precarious situation. The spell was broken.
Azad looked away. The moment passed too soon than he wished deep down.He cleared his throat and frowned. How could he let slip his composure in moment's madness. His grip tightened around the hilt of his ceremonial sword.
Mahira fumbled with the candelabrum as she bowed into an awkward curtsy.
''My lord Sarkaar Huzoor !''
Azad nodded in reply.
''I thought I heard someone singing''.His deep voice poised in question.
''Ji ! Lautif was entertaining us with a song.'' she replied respectfully her eyes firmly downcast.
''Well,I heard a female voice'', his voice had a hint of tease.
Mahiras face flamed. She had behaved recklessly in his presence again.
''I am trying my best to bring order in the library. I have begun translating as well. Once everything is cataloged, the pace will increase.'' She said instead desperate to change the topic.
Azad's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sudden, irrelevant reply.
He measured her with his large thoughtful eyes and decided not to press further.
''How did you find the library ?'' he asked instead.
''It is splendid My Lord !'' Mahiras eyes lit up with enthusiasm.''Such rare scrolls, tasteful calligraphic works, such ancient chronicles and memoirs !' she gushed.
''Now, dont get carried away !' The side of his lower lip twitched a bit. '' I want my work done fast.''
''I would be, Milord !'' she spoke earnestly, ''but I have just started. All library needs now is an expert's guidance, one who knows his way through the tomes and mountains of piled documents, someone like you. If you would spare few hours with those scrolls and scriptures, I promise, I would see immediate progress.''
Azad's eyes arrested her in an inscrutable glare. Not a muscle twitched in his face.
The air grew thick with awkward silence.
Mahira bit her lower lips. She had just now spoken her mind to the Jaigirdaar without his asking. And suggested him to work alongside her ! Allah i jaane, what was she thinking.
What she didnt see, were the said Jaigirdar's eyes, glazed, seeing her doing that innocently erotic gesture. This woman was determined to drive him mad.
Azad's eyes narrowed as if uncertain what to reply. Then with unintended gruffness, he said, ''I would not have hired you if I liked to stay cooped up in that blasted place! Do what you are hired for and inform me if you find something worth interest.''
Mahira felt fairly rebuked.
Oh so he felt degrading to enter the library when she was working there. Even though he had abundance of time on his hands. He would not help but demand fast result. Just as the villagers had s
aid. He didnot protect them but claimed his revenues timely. How unjust !
Her voiced picked up the strain of displeasure as she frowned.
'' It is getting late. My Lord ! with your permission I would leave for my room. Allah Hafiz !'' and started for the archway without giving a spare glance to the man who stared at her in amazement. She definitely had the gall to curtly dismiss him.
Shab bakhair ! she heard his deep resonating voice call after her as she disappeared through the sharp turn.
That night before falling into a restless sleep,Mahira last coherent thoughts revolved round the man and his strange quirks. He was like a rich, unknown script that demanded extreme patience and skill to be deciphered. She chuckled on her own. Lautif had indeed lost his Mohurs to Mir Baksh. He did come down, albeit late. Only they remained unaware of the truth !
*************
With the first light of the morning seeping through the bare windows, Mahira woke up and went down to the well to freshen up. Adaq khan was already there, filling water in the lagre drums probably for the stable. Mahira smiled gratefully when he hauled water for her too.She took off her chunar and tied it around her waist and then knelt down to cleanse her mouth and splash water in her face and hands.
She realised instantly that she had made the mistake of rolling up her sleeve and baring her lower neck to Adaq Khan. She instantly felt the large man's stare upon her and tried to turn away. But Adaq khan had already seen her bruises.
''Mahira ! who did that to you ?'' the edge in his voice was enough for a grown man to fall into a fit of trembles.
Mahira sat silent.
'' I asked who set those marks on you'', he thundered.
''It doesnt matter anymore'', she mumbled.
Upon Hell ! It matters !'
Adaq shook his head violently,''We all know you are running away from something. we all noted desperation in your acts. And these marks. These are proofs that something terrible had happened to you.Huzoor sirkar had noticed them too. He had ordered me to learn what you are running from.''
Huzoor ! He saw my bruises. mahira looked down at herself.
''He ? How ?''
''Aah ! stop heehawing like a horse, lassie ! you are not supposed to ask questions in back of a question.Now spill ! ''
If Mahira didnot know how loving and kindhearted he was, she would have fainted with intensity of his roar.
''Unkind relatives.''
She shut her eyes in memory of the pain she had endured.
''And who exactly inflicted those bruises on you ?''
''Zaroon, my fiance and his mother.'' she sighed in resignation.
''You are engaged !'' Adaq khan eyes rounded as his voice grew hard.
''you are running away from an engagement ?'' His voice had the tone of accusation.
Mahira's eyes flew open and her courage surged back.
''An engagement I am coerced into after my father's death. I was beaten into submission.The marks you saw were results of my protests. There are many more concealed under my gown.''
Adaq Khan looked at her for one long moment. One would say, his eyes misted.
'' Poor girl. Oh ! you poor poor child !'' Adaq Khan put his big hands on her shoulders and pulled her in a half embrace.
'' These are not important anymore, really Chachajan ! I am happy here amongst you all. These marks will fade. Soon, I wont remember they were ever there.''
Mahira was unsure who was consoling whom.
''It is important Chokri ! To me, to us.'' Adaq replied,his voice still thick with emotions.
'' Till now, you had nobody to stand up for you. But it was in past.You are at Janjgarh now, you are one of us. Any man, even if he dares to touch your hair would find that offending limb torn from his body, I will personally take care of that.''
Tears fell free from Mahira's eyes and she faltered to find appropriate words. So she kept quiet and allowed herself to bask in the warmth of fatherly love she thought she had lost forever with her Abbus death. As Adaq khan released her, she smiled a rain-drenched sunflower smile and nearly skipped back to her room.
A couple of hours later, Mahira halted in her act of sitting down to work in front of her self-made shrine of books. On Azad's table sat a small book in a way evidently to attract her attention. It was bound in red Moroccan leather, buttery soft to touch. She picked it up gently and inspected both sides. There was no title engraved, the sole embellishment was a golden land-lotus leaf. It was embossed to the centre of the cover. Her heart hammered in anticipation as she opened the book tentatively.
Inside, on the flyleaf, written in an unmistakable hand,
'' Capture your fleeting thoughts here. They are worth recording.''
And on the 1st page on the right, were her own lines written for him on that fateful parchment. He had recorded them here in his own sloppy hand, accurately from memory.
Yah Allah !
Mahira thought she would die of rapture ! Never did she find such untidy, atrocious handwriting so endearing.
Is this a gift ? From the Jaigirdaar !
Mahira clasped the book firmly to her thudding breast and grinned ear to ear. Ice and fire. She had assessed him correctly.
Her mind drifted back to their last night's accidental encounter. His dark amber eyes within thick curly lashes locked on her with an unbearable intensity. She wondered how her name would sound in his deep husky voice - Mahira ! The way his tongue would roll and his full lips would part pronouncing her name as he would pin her to the wall and lean closer until there was no space between then. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought and covered her face with her palms.
Abruptly, she turned away from the table and leaned on the pane of the bay window. The cool glass felt icy cool to her feverish hot face.
What the hell am I thinking ! Harboring such sinful thoughts about a man is horribly wicked ! Dear Lord ! have mercy on me ! Please dont let Jabhedha Khala's words come true. Stop my wanton dreams !
This gift was nothing more than an act of benevolence. And Emirs were known to bestow gifts upon their favourites, courtiers and attendants. It meant nothing. Besides did'nt he reject her request to come to the library on her presence ? Her social status was now perhaps lower than Gazalla's and he had nothing but pity for her wretched condition. Heck ! He had even seen those hideous bruises over her body. Lord only knows how !
In any case, she was here to work, not moon over the enigmatic chieftain, no matter how alluring and mysterious air he had.
With firm determination she walked into her place of work and sat cross legged amongst piles of parchments, scrolls and leather bound documents. She had already started to organize them methodically. The family records held private journals repeatedly signed by three names - Gaffur, Rashid and Naseer. They were obviously the previous Jaigirdars, Azad's forefather's. Now she had to learn his family tree properly to set them in chronological order. Although the handwritings were impeccable and style grandiose, Mahira was soon caught by boredom. They held nothing more secretive than accounts of daily life.The old brittle parchment presented a live portrayal of the emir household, of the Jaigir lands ,of the weather, of crops and livestocks of long back perhaps a century ago or two. Most of these are written in elegant farsi, the tongue of the upper class. Mahira translated offhand as she read.
She reached for the second bundle soon. She picked up a long scroll bordered with ornamental leaves. It was also written in Farsi but the style less calligraphic and more practical. The writer's signature was found nowhere. The scrolled lamented a nefarious carnage claiming lives of thousands in some village. And writer's inability to protect them or bring back order. Mahira didnot understand what exactly happened in that wretched village, but the last portion caught her attention.
It said :
Winter marked the last year of the rule of our blessed Sultan Allauddin Shah. He retires to the north, withdrawing with him all that is virtuous and godly. We enter the era of nefarious Lodih's. A time of transition has come, a dark cloud looms over my land. I am unable to disperse it. The beginning of the end has started.
Oh virtuous maid ! Born with the blessing of our Merciful where art thou hidden ? Grace my land with your presence.Your sacrifice is needed to end generations of harrowing misery. Oh one with flawless soul ! Save us from the curse my forefather willingly brought upon us ! Your life is all that we need. Your freewill is all that we ask for !
What kind of riddle was that ! Although the condition of parchment was similar kind of brittle and the ink fading, Mahira tried to put an wild guess on the author's time period. It speaks of some Allauddin Shah who was relinquishing the throne to some Lodi. These were names of older Turkic-Afgan dynasties who ruled the country before the Mughals came. These were incidents some 150 years back more or less. Mahira had read chronicles of past rulers, and these names definitely rang familiar to her.
But what in Gods name was the last raving about ! Who was the virtuous maid and why was the author desperately seeking her assistance. What life ? What sacrifice ? How can sacrifice of someones life could be done by her freewill ? was this some kind of old sorcery? Mahira shivered inadvertently. It talked about some curse. The villagers Nafar and Jamilah talked about some curses upon the Jaigirdar's family so seriously as if it were existing truth. Was the village Janjgarhgaon that was mentioned by the writer ?
By far she had noticed nothing completely outrageous. Or maybe she had grown immune to it in her eagerness to escape Zaroon and his lackeys.She remembered the brief vision she had in that disguised obsidian mirror and looked up to it again. Only her pale confused face stared back at her from it. She decided to copy everything and show it to the Chieftain. Who knows perhaps this was what he was looking for. She picked up her gift,the leaf marked red notebook and on an empty page she translated the whole paragraph in her neat script.
Pleased with the progress of her day's work, Mahira decided to stretch her painfully stiff body and walk around the library. She shuddered at the dark leather bound tomes of ancient records with Turkic titles that gave her dark disapproving look...aah ! so many things to read and transcribe. She almost heard Badi begum's sneering voice in her head,''She would never finish'' !
She absently ran her fingers through the row and chose a comparatively slim dark brown book. The book was written by Naseer, she found this name before in those documents.
The man was obviously a trained artist and a scholar. The quills he had used were pinpoint sharp and his curves in his script aesthetic. He was the connoisseur of herbs and probably planted all those medicinal plants in the garden, Mirzabaag. His book was a work of art. The botanical drawing he made were charming and accurate. It was obvious the author bestowed all his quality time in his research, thereby neglecting his land lordly duties. Just like Azad ! She mused. It was apparent , this person was Azad's ancestor and from the pages and inks it was clear that the book was not as old as some other documents. Was this man Azad's father, the person who abandoned his young child and cowardly chose to end his life ? Perhaps he was a failure too. Even had he lived he could have never taught Azad how to be an able chieftain. He would have encourage his son to sprout verses while he buried himself in sketches and experiments. Even without having any idea who Naseer was, Mahira found herself unable to appreciate his works. Even though he shared her passion of learning and herbology, the deceased chieftain somehow had fallen in her eyes.
Mahira added the book to her growing pile, and thought to clear her head by taking a brisk walk into the outer wilderness.
This digging into the private papers of mirza clan had taken a toll upon her mind. She was becoming unnecessarily attached and perniciously intimate with Azad's family and vicariously with him. With his forefather's names and incessant chain of activities constantly in her head she could not just push him out of her mind. She had to develop a neutral view. she was here just to transcribe, not to invest herself passionately in unravelling Mirza clan's mystery. With the red notebook in her hand she exited the library.
Mirzabaag was forbidden but the ancient courtyard now running riotous with various wild flowery shrubs and palm trees was strangely beautiful too. Bright aftenoon sunlight stung her as soon as she came out into the open and she blinked to adjust her eyes in this sudden change of brightness. She breathed deeply, filling in her chest fresh open air that smelt of wild flowers,herbs and horses for the faraway stable. Drafts of breeze played with her single long braid as it whipped around her hip.
Suddenly Shiraz dashed past her, barking and snapping at something. It stopped and sniffed something zealously into the bush making low threatening growls. Suddenly a hare dashed out of its hiding place and leapt away. Mahira laughed in her usual lilting voice and was highly startled when a smooth male voice joined her from behind. For a fraction of a second she thought it was Azad's but immediately she ruled that out. His voice had that deep tenor she unknowingly came to admire so much.
She turned back and was taken aback. Chote Sirkar Rafiq Amaad Mirza had come down from his chamber and was standing just behind her.
Ah ! To behold the face of a fair lady on such a fair day, I am indeed blessed !'' . He smiled and bowed courteously.
Mahira almost rolled her eyes in the hilarity of his exaggerated curtsey. Since when nobles bowed to their attendants !
Chote Sirkar had a flair for expensive clothes, she noted again. Today he was immaculately dressed in a dark violet angrakha and a silver brocaded choga (sleeveless, front open coat) . A pair of stylish persian sandals adorned his feet. His carefully arranged dark brown hair curled against the back of his neck and priceless jewels winked from his long necklace. He had a full bloomed red rose in his hand.
''Lord Chote Huzoor Sirkar ! I am pleased to see you again.'' She bowed demurely in a respectful adaab and said, ''I am very grateful for your helping me reach the fort. I donot know how I could ever repay your kindness.''
'' Mahira ! The woman of rare talents !''
''The pleasure was all mine. It is our fortune that you have decided to grace this all forsaken castle with your kindness and beauty. This for you, dear girl, as a token of our pleasure on your arrival.'' He held out the rose and stepped towards her with a winning smile glittering like sunbeams upon shreds of glass.
Now this was growing more and more uncomfortable. Mahira nervously licked her lips and looked around thinking what should be done. It was inappropriate to encourage such bold advances but how could one refuse a noble without offending him !
She reached out and took the flower carefully avoiding his touch.
''Thank you, Chote huzoor'' She gave him a nervous smile and waited for his leave.
But Amad apparently had no intention of leaving. He took leisure in examining Mahira's blushed face, her downcast eyes and clasped palms and laughed roguishly. Ah ! A butterfly still in her cocoons of innocent shyness. How very delicious !
''Be at ease Mahira ! I might be Azad's kinsmen but I do not share his uncivil nature. I believe in equality and supremacy of talent rather than birth. So do not be alarmed if I treat you as a friend!''
Mahira was totally taken aback by the sincere tone of his unexpected wise words. Did he really harbour such liberal advanced beliefs ? Can a noble really consider her, his equal as she rightly deserves ?
Mahira found her uneasiness ebbing away and she smiled widely at him.
Now dear girl,you really wanted to repay my help didnt you ? Promise me then you would accompany me to the village fair this day next week.''His head tilted in a gentle challenge.
Oh dear ! this is bad ! Mahira looked down at her toenails furiously thinking a way of escape but couldnot bring out a single plausible polite refusal.
Amaad tilted his head and laughed flirtitiously.'' I take your silence as a yes to my request, Mahira ! ''
He took her right palm and gently squeezed it, murmuring in her ear, ''Farewell, then. I shall count every passing minute''.
He winked and sauntered back to the fort.
But even after moments, Mahira stood aghast like a statue. Yah Allah, what was she supposed to do now !
***********
[to be continued...]
Writer's note :
The song I used to set the mood of the chapter the is a masterpiece of A.R. Rahman. Applause to the man whose talent never cease to amaze us. I have added the youtube link. Press it and be lost in his magic !
[YOUTUBE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dIphEjMfT_g[/YOUTUBE]
I am writing a historical fiction for the first time although I have always dreamed to write one...plz bear with me even if it falls short of your expectation. I would be delighted if u add constructive criticism and appreciation in your comments. plz do not forget to press the like button.They mean happiness and inspiration.
PurpleCrayon baisa, missed your magic touches heavily. But I know aap busy ho, isliye disturb nehi kiya. If you find anything, you would like to change or rephrase, I am just a pm away.
Next : Chapter 8 - Fall from grace
Edited by milinda.shreyz - 9 years ago
16