Chapter 44
'Akbar...' Ibrahim's voice echoed from the other side of the screen 'Bahadur is ready... the bags and water-flasks have been loaded... when will you be leaving?'
The young man briefly broke away, staggering for words, staggering for breath - her state no different. Reality still settling in, the tremors within still shuddering afloat, he gazed down at his wife.
'Mashallah' In the dimness of twilight, her features were aglow - their tinge a deep pink. So deep that it even masked the colour that his impassioned love had brushed onto her lips.
'Heera...'
Reclaiming her footing on steady ground, she unfurled her quivering eyelashes - but stopped midway, stalling her glances from moving upwards, to his face.
'Look here...'
The young lady responded by allowing a skittish smile show on her lips. But, she wouldn't peek up. Why would she, when the enticingly sharp edge of his nose continued to hover just above her pearly dimples?
'Heera...' He could see she was not intending to be a tease. But the fact that she would rather lavish her gazes upon the gathers of his neck-scarf, did have his dark pupils vying for her attention. So, he decided to do himself a favour and tenderly lifted her chin up, till she had nowhere to look but him. 'I...'
'Akbar?' came Ibrahim's second reminder 'Are you there?'
'Yes Ibrahim... please wait... for a bit...'
She watched how the brief tranquillity of his features was ruffled again - by shadows of a fresh tempest. Not the enthralling sort that he'd gladly let himself be consumed by, until a moment ago. But, a grimmer tempest.
Her eyes stayed silent for a flighty beat or two, while her heart dealt with fresh unrests of her own, preparing itself for what had to happen. She had gotten everything she wanted, hadn't she? How could she selfishly ask for more of his time? 'No... I can't... I shouldn't... I have to let him go'
So, she filled her lungs with all the calming air that she could, to dissolve some of those unrests. Then, she let her eyes speak. 'I understand Khan Sahib... you have to leave...'
Ironically however, by doing so, she'd only made it harder for him. Her expressions had softly rattled at the rigid armour of a soldier that hadn't been rattled by many-a-violent blow. For, it showed Akbar that his gentle wife was ready to part even as his steely self was struggling to do so.
'Khuda Hafiz...' he forced a small distance between them.
Where the roughest dangers and coarsest truths could not drive a wedge through them, the smallest grains of time were beginning to seep through, nudging them afar. But it wasn't the first instance that he was leaving her behind, was he? Fate and circumstances had made him walk away from her presence on numerous occasions in the past. Then, what was different tonight?
Was it because there was no sign of annoyance in her eyes as she wished him farewell - despite the fact that her questions and confessions had received no proper answers yet? Because her expressions did not even reflect a flicker of disappointment? Because she showed nothing beyond a quiet resignation?
Yet and still, he would leave to attend to the call of duty. Like he always did.
'Take care...' Heera took a calm step back, to make it easier upon him - though her fingers remained willingly shackled within his palm.
Ironically however, by doing so, she'd only made it harder - her gesture softly rattling at his rigid armour once again. For, it told him that she had truly adopted his fate as her own. That in all ways, she'd truly become the Ustaad's wife.
'You too...' he fell a short step back - her stoic features the object of his glare, the rest only a blur.
He had to put his work above all else. He was used to doing so, wasn't he? Even when it came at the price of the lone wish of a dying child like 'Pappu'. Even when it cost him cherished possessions like the 'laddus' the lover had gifted him. Then, why were his feet getting heavier than lead? Was it because this unprecedented night was too precious, too unique? Was it because it was the first time the Ustaad was walking away from his wife?
Yet and still, he would leave to attend to the call of duty. Like he always did.
Soon, her fingers slid away from his palm as if it were a precious yarn of silk that he could neither hold onto, nor wholeheartedly let go. And at that moment of separation, he felt the planes of his chest clamp-in from frustration - a small corner of his heart even whimsically wishing that he could just drop his burdens and dash off for an undisturbed day or three, as men in power could afford to - only the two of them, riding on the weight of their love, to a distant land.
But THAT was fantasy. THIS was life, with its difficulties. And it was up to him to somehow fulfil her fantasies in this difficult life, similar to how she'd fulfilled his.
'On another day...' his head shook, telling-off his heart as though it were an insubordinate soldier - the force of his breath getting hurried and heated. 'On another day, Akbar'
For now however, he would HAVE to leave. Like he always did.
A fresh day would come, when they would be able to fulfil all of that, with nothing to stop them. A fresh tomorrow would come when they'd be able to nurture those fantasies, into an enchanting reality. 'Another tomorrow...'
'But with both of us leading lives where we don't know what tomorrow holds...'
So, as she'd said, what if they didn't have many tomorrows?
...
...
...
Snapping out of his haze, the young man suddenly leaned forth and grabbed the silken fingers that'd slipped away, pulling his unsuspecting wife close for the second time that evening. With her securely tucked in his clutches, he tilted his head in the direction of the screen at the entrance - behind which, stood his best mate, waiting. 'Ibrahim...'
'Akbar? Are you there?'
'Yes... there has been a small change of plan...'
'Change of plan? How do you mean?'
'Pack your bags... and get started to leave on this mission...'
'Oh...' Ibrahim was confused. And he made little effort to hide it in his voice 'alright'
'Oh...' Heera was confused. And she made no effort to conceal it in her stares.
But before she could speak, Akbar took his fingers up to her lips and blinked once, to silence her worries. Then twice, for reassurance. 'I know what I'm doing'
'Alright' came Ibrahim's long and slow murmur from the other side - making it obvious that his mind was still racing through the possibilities that might've caused this abrupt 'change of plan'. Decoding the Sahib's intentions was never an easy challenge. But he couldn't help wonder if this was somehow related to all those truths that Chacha jaan had spouted out to bhabhijaan earlier.
'Anyhow, I shall take your leave, Akbar... Inshallah, I'll see you in a week... with positive updates to...'
'But I'll be joining you anyway' Akbar spoke over the man - the pause that followed, only compounding the questions in the minds of both - his wife and his friend. 'Well...' that awkward pause later, he cleared his throat that was still gruff from the strain of several shifting thoughts and emotions 'Having only returned from the capital this morning, I'm exhausted... I plan to take it slow for a few hours... rest for a bit... I'll ride at the crack of dawn, and catch up with you soon...'
'Catch up with me soon?'
'Fine...' Ibrahim replied a moment later - the confusion in his pitch eventually layering out into something else altogether. Aha! 'So, THAT's what this is about?' No doubt, the Sahib was exhausted - which was why his men had tried convincing him to stay back at Parnagarh in the first place. But it seems the one who'd actually got him to change his mind him was Harka Sahiba. 'It appears you were right Chacha jaan!'
In all the years that he'd known the man, the Ustaad never really prioritised his personal well-being, his emotions or his needs in the mundane existence he led. At long last, he'd finally met someone who made him want to do so. And frankly, Ibrahim couldn't be happier for him.
'Akbar, my friend...' there was a playful smirk beneath the sigh. 'Khuda Hafiz'
'Mirza Sahib...' Akbar was well-aware his mate had worked it all out. But he tried and kept a straight tone to spare himself from the embarrassment of any further playful smirks. 'If and when you meet our friend first, you keep him safe...'
'Of course...' nodded Ibrahim recognising that the Ustaad had avoided mentioning the term 'informer'. Possibly since bhabhijaan was with him.
'And... YOU stay safe too!'
'I will...'
There was plenty else Ibrahim could have added, to wish his friend right then. But he left it at a very telling 'Shab-ba-khair... rest well'
With Ibrahim gone, Akbar observed how his decision had sketched fresh brushstrokes of surprise around her brows.
A surprise, which gradually turned to disbelief.
And disbelief into elation.
'No Begum... I haven't left yet... I'm still here... with you'
'You haven't left yet...' she uttered, still reeling from the gravity of his gesture. He'd postponed his departure by a few hours solely to be with her. It was something she'd never expected. And a gesture she'd never forget. 'You're still here... with me'
'Yes...'
Well, his body and mind served the Huzoor. His heart and soul was devoted to her. So he'd rolled his plans out in a way that the course of his actions would honour both.
No doubt, he could have waited for a 'fresh' day, after his return - and hopefully, God had written innumerable such days ahead for them. But none of those days, would be THIS precious day when the walls had finally been torn down. None of those nights would be the memorable night that his wife had wholeheartedly accepted the Ustaad. None of them would compare to this precious moment when they'd both acknowledged their true feelings for the first time. 'Yes Heera...' he pulled her in tighter 'for a little while longer'
Once certain the news had sunk in, he leaned his face by her forehead, wondering how he must further the conversation. The turn of events had unfolded spontaneously and his mind was quite unprepared. Besides, some of the thoughts lingering in there were not easy to voice - not even for the most eloquent. And being gifted with the boon of love didn't imply he'd be granted the skills of a poet too. So, the adventurer in him decided to resort to a different strategy - by laying his ideas out in the form of a vivid image to convey his desires to his new bride.
'As you've heard Heera, I ride away at the crack of dawn... the few lone hours I have till then, I'd like to continue making this new journey with my companion for life - my bride... a beautiful journey that we'd only just started undertaking... a journey where we create and collect new memories along the way... as we travel together... towards oneness...' the back of his fingers ran long tender lines by her cheeks 'I take it, my bride has no issues to continue journeying down these blissful paths with me'
'As we travel together... towards oneness...' The significance of that imagery sucked out the air from her lungs, turning the fair stretches of her skin red from the heat of a sudden thrill. Aware that every facet of her reaction was coming under his ever-so-vigilant gazes, she smiled a nervous half-smile through closed eyes. But when even that left her feeling exposed, Heera lay her temple against his chest, concealing her features altogether. He was awaiting an answer. But how was she supposed to reply, when her mind had turned blank? It was as if she'd been enveloped by a breath-taking fog of emotions. A fog in which she couldn't see, or even think clearly - and yet, a fog that was enchanting to be ambushed by.
Nevertheless, he deserved an answer. And she owed him one. A mere 'yes' or a nod wouldn't do justice to that unique proposal. So, she found her way out of the fog to respond in kind - using those vivid images he'd shown her to indulge the adventurer in him.
'I... I am...' she persevered with murmurs for words since her lips had turned completely dry 'I am your companion for life, Khan Sahib... true, I might not see very well... or ride a horse... true, the roads so far have been tumultuous...still my hand is willingly fastened to yours... and I travel where you take me... because I have faith, my Sahib - that without you... any journey I take... along any path... on any day... cannot be beautiful'
'Subanallah' There, she'd done it again. Tugged at his heart strings like never before.
Splaying his hands across her back, he held her closer, her loose locks threading through his fingers. Resting his lips lightly against the borla, he paused, giving her time - till her anxious limbs eased into his. Slowly, her hands gained confidence and slipped over his waist, inch by inch, till they went all the way around. And no sooner than he perceived his embrace being returned with equal fervour, the smile that'd been lurking underneath, surfaced upon his lips.
It was their most enchanting memory yet, where they stood intertwined for many beats, with not a care for the world.
So enchanting that they both knew not how to nudge the spell on.
Surprisingly though, it was Heera who broke her silence first. 'It's a cold winter's night... would you join me in having a warm drink?'
A short while thereafter...
'An adventurer's companion for life?' The thought nudged on a smile. Huddling within the shawl, she took her tenth heavenly sip before casting a curious glance up, through the grey lighting, at his silhouette. With one relaxed foot crossed in front of the other, he was leaning by the edge of the bed she sat on - his fingers swirling the contents of the drink into a slow eddy. 'Doesn't he get cold?'
Nevertheless, she had a very intriguing question coming for him.
'Khan Sahib, I can think of a few instances... when my heart got its first taste for adventure... decided that it'd met its match - and recognised its companion for life...' her fingers chafed on the cup, hoping to borrow as much of its heat as she could 'But I wonder how and when the heart of an adventurer recognised its companion in a partially blind lady... who couldn't ride at day... or even walk by herself at night, in the open? When did you realise you'd met your match?'
The young man gave her alluring face a thorough once-over. Was she fishing for compliments? Or, was she trying to extract another confession from him? Either way, the question was tricky.
'Maybe I must let YOU answer first, my Begum?' his eyes played around with hers.
'Really?' Heera frowned back at the eyes that were playing around with hers. Truth be told, she'd paid him plenty of compliments tonight. Shared many-a-profound confession. It was only fair that HE answered this one first.
But she could guess that it wouldn't be wise to continue flirting with the sort of danger that was his glares. For, if he got his way again, if this opportunity slipped through, she might have to wait long for an answer to the burning question in her mind.
'Oh, alright' she caved in with the sort of smile that wouldn't take the edge off that sharp glint in her hazel depths.
'When I met a man who punished my guards' unkindness by charging them 4 dams for water, and yet returned the money to me with no explanation whatsoever - confident that I'd figure out what and why he'd done so... I knew I had met my match...'
Finishing off her sentence with a dash of added spirit, she tilted her head, passing the question on. 'And you?'
His attention idly lingered upon her, buying time, waiting for that 'glint' to turn ever so sharper. If her patience was indeed being tested, he'd never seen a more fascinating cover-up of it.
Rousingly fascinating it was.
'Alright...' exhaling through a rash spike of heat in his pulse, Akbar gulped the drink down in one go and placed the cup on his study desk. 'Come with me... I'll show you something...'
Kicking his boots aside to a corner, he washed his hands in the cauldron and then took his place in front of the mirror, indicating that she take her place in front of him.
So, she got off the bed and did as told.
By the fuzzy gleam of a small lamp, the couple observed their joint reflection in the mirror.
'Tell me...' He took out the brown topaz ring from his finger and held its stone beside her eye 'if you can you spot a similarity?'
Heera was bemused. 'The Topaz?'
Of course, she'd noticed that light brown ring sitting on his finger on several occasions in the past. And until now, it'd never struck her how closely its colour and shape resembled those of her eyes. But, where was he going with this? 'Yes... I see the similarities...'
'Well...' he finally whispered his first secret to his Begum, by her ears 'I knew I had met my match, the night I pulled you out of the canal... which is why I had to stop wearing this ring for a while... because, it reminded me so much of you... and at that time, of what could not be!'
She stared agape at his image in the mirror, speechless.
Her heart had skipped so many beats that night that she'd long stopped counting. But this instance, she was forced to take note - for her chest could palpably perceive it. That they'd been attracted to each other from very early on, was no mystery. But that he'd harboured such deep feelings for her, from their very first encounter, she would've never thought!
What was meant to be a breezy conversation had come with an unexpected gust so deep, that the force of its message had briefly swept her away 'So... the... the... so' she cleared her throat to mask the fact that her mind was still scrambling for sensible words 'so, the adventurer... knew he'd met his match, when he came across a lady who couldn't swim to save her life?' she scoffed lightly 'Ironical, don't you think?'
True, it was an irony. In fact, their lives were a lengthy list of ironies! But, Akbar wasn't laughing at this one.
'And yet... I wasn't wrong...' he spoke slowly to make sure the timber of each note left an impact 'when I was about to drown in the water, SHE was the one who jumped in to save my life'
Heera swiftly found herself looking away from the man in the mirror for more than a couple of blinks. He'd effectively disarmed the sharp glint in her eye, hadn't he?
When her gazes returned to him thereafter, he was slipping his ring back on.
Through the mirror, she watched him tinkering with the ring. And he watched her watching him - the silence that'd befallen the couple so profound that it was almost turning into a tangible presence between them.
Until Akbar decided to quell that intruding silence, with his shadow looming ever so close to hers. All of a sudden, her hair was tucked behind, and his lips descended down, toying with the sensitive spot behind her ears. From there, he drew a slow sedate route along the sides of her neck. On towards the small dip of her arch. Till he made his way to the exposed skin of her shoulders.
Startled by many-a-pleasant jolt, Heera placed her empty cup on the table, intending to turn around. And face him. Instead her back ended up limply leaning onto his chest - as if handing over an open invitation for his manly affections.
Of course, the young husband gladly took the invite. Gently twining his fingers through the hair at the base of her head to move them aside, he unhooked her necklace.
Thump! It came cascading down to the table with a muffled noise.
The next moment, his features dove in deeper, working on nothing but his instincts as he raided the velvety recesses of her neck. His mouth tasted her, with smooth steady caresses. His jawline teased her, with short gruff strokes. And his fervid manoeuvres tested her will, by alternating both.
'Kh...an... Sahib' she managed a bare stutter sometime thereon.
Alas, he decided to respond by paralysing her further. Having dropped his wrists to her waistline, he held her still with a firm grip. One after another, the warm ridges of his fingers then began chasing a furtive path through the shawl, trifling with the hook of her hip chain to nudge it open. Once that feat had been managed, there was no stopping his palms from seeking the curves that lay beneath the pleats of her veil, savouring their first brush with the silken expanses of her waist.
'Oh Lord!' Heera clamped her eyes shut. It tingled. It tantalised. It tormented - pleasurably so. And all at once.
He was being driven wild - she could tell from his torrid breath skimming her neck. And he was driving her body wild from several rushes of chills too.
In her timid quest for support, she reached for his hand - the very hand that was wrecking her composure in the first place. And lay her head against his face - the very face that'd put her in a daze with its musky caresses.
'Heera...' his sultry pursuits drifted to a gradual slowdown.
He'd drawn his hands up her arms and realised there was a slight prickle on her skin there. 'Your... arms... are... chilly' he murmured in ragged bits.
'Maybe...' she mouthed raptly.
Chilly? It was approaching the depths of night and if the pair had not been so embroiled in the throes of passion, they might have realised that it was rather cold outside.
'Alright...' he ran his nose beneath her cheeks a couple of times. And then a couple of times more. Before forcing himself to break away. He would've found it infinitely tougher to do so had the prickle on her arms not snapped him into reality. 'Let me get the coal burners started'
It was when he then stepped away and glimpsed over his shoulder, still catching up on his breath, that he realised a window was partly open - letting a brisk draught in that'd killed most of the lamps. Worse, his guards hadn't lit any of the coal burners either since he was meant to be leaving that night. And with him being in the cusp of emotions, he hadn't realised how cold it'd gotten. No wonder her arms had turned icy despite that layer of wool.
So, he got working straightaway. Pacing towards the waiting area, he picked up a large bright lantern and brought it in. Pouring some oil, he stoked its flame and snapped the lid back on, using its fire to get the warmers burning.
'Shall I get you an additional shawl?'
'No I'll be fine...' she simpered, unaware of the fact that she'd regret her decision very soon. With her source of heat taken away the instant he'd stepped aside, the air around her quickly got uncomfortable. But even as she pulled her shawl over a dishevelled veil and drew her cold shoulders in, she knew she was the happiest woman alive when she peeked at the dark silhouette of the man impressively working his way with the coal burners. All the more so, when the lover in her reflected back on the fact that walking away from their sultry reverie would've needed a good bit of his will.
Anyhow, she could continue playing the awed audience.
Or, sit by him and warm her hands.
Or better still, make herself useful. It was getting rather late. And however short or long the night was meant to be, it wouldn't hurt if she helped in her own way.
'Heera...' dusting the coal dust off his palms, he stood up, his attentive eyes following the petite shadow that was gliding towards the exit, with that lantern in hand. 'What are you doing?'
'The charcoal burners have been lit... the rest of the lamps doused... and this one...' she inclined her head towards the archway screen 'I was going to replace in the waiting area...'
Dumping the towel in a basket, he began striding towards her, his wrists casually crossing itself at the low of his back 'But that's my bedside lamp'
'Bedside lamp?' mulled Heera, an unconvinced frown setting in 'But... Khan Sahib... I don't recall you... sleeping... with...'
Her train of thoughts came to a swift standstill.
'Wait...' What was she thinking? The man would sleep on a rock, in the middle of the forest, if needs called for it. Of course he didn't care to own a bedside lamp! Pulling a prank, was he?
'Oh I see...' she chuckled 'since when did my Sahib who works in the pitch of darkness, need a lamp by his pillow to fall asleep at night?'
'Since tonight'
'Since tonight?'
Her chuckles faded into a smile. Which then withered into a stare, as she strained to get a better look at his emerging expressions. On a profile that was composed as ever, the edge of his lips had curved into the slightest grin. But THAT was not what gave him away. It was his dusky pupils. Rampant with mischief, they were.
'Oh Lord!' He wasn't pulling a prank. He was playing the rogue! Abashed, her glances immediately dodged his.
'Subanallah' The picture of his Begum's face framed by the glow of the flame, while that innocent laughter morphed into a feminine blush - it was one of the images that was going to remain a permanent keepsake from his memories of this night.
'So...' his right arm smoothly pointed in the direction of the bed-table 'Why do you seem reluctant? You have a bedside lamp in your chamber, do you not?'
'What?' Heera raised a guarded brow. 'My dear Sahib, you KNOW why I'm reluctant tonight!'
Coming up against her, Akbar paused two paces away, reading her dilemmas as if she'd written it out to him on a piece of parchment.
'My dear Sahiba' he put on a chivalrous note 'is there something you want to tell me?'
She shook her head, biting the insides of her lips when she felt another annoying blush come on. 'No...'
'I see...' The young man tried not to grin more than he already was, at what seemed to be the reservations of his young bride leading up to their first night of intimacy. 'Then, what are you waiting for? Please place it back...'
But then, she WAS a young bride. This WAS their first night of intimacy. So yes, she DID have a few sweet worries of her own.
If only she could've blown the flame right then and gotten her way. But they both knew she would not do that - in case an emergency arose they wouldn't have a flicker of light anywhere nearby.
'Anyhow' her fingers playfully wound around the base. He wasn't going to force it away from her, was he? Maybe she should just continue enticing him with moist dreamy gazes, as she was now. He might melt like he always did, and give in to her wishes like he mostly did! 'Maybe...'
Akbar said nothing for a while.
'What's going on?' She said nothing either. Had her wiles worked?
The next moment however, he put her doubts to rest. By stepping forth. 'Alright... hold on to your precious lamp tightly' He added a forewarning too. 'Keep it straight'
The lamp stayed where it was, as she wished. But before she could make sense of anything else, her shawl had slid off and dropped to the floor because her legs were on solid ground no more. In a wink he'd made her a prisoner in his arms, as if he'd done this a million times before.
'Khan Sahib!' she gasped.
'Well...' he shrugged. He couldn't be bothered to banter at this point. He couldn't wait around forever. And he wouldn't physically force anything out of her. So, she could hold onto that lantern for as long as she wished. But he was taking HER with him!
Once the lantern had been put aside, he sat her down on the bed and took his place beside her. With the warm fumes of incense from the charcoal burner wafting in and about them like sheer bands of silk, there was a slight shift in the wintry air.
Her legs folded to a side, she quietly beheld the borders of her purple skirt sprawled out around her ankles. As did he.
A moment later, his hand glided towards her alta-red feet, shuffling around a bell from her array of toe-rings.
'No Khan Sahib...' she curled her toes 'it's not respectful... in our culture, a Sahib does not touch his Begum's feet...'
'Not even out of love?'
Heera couldn't refute that - making her wonder in which corner of the room she'd misplaced her quick-wit. So, she resorted to a distraction instead, by colouring-in some of the embroidered designs of her skirt with her fingertips.
Smiling at her choice of distraction, Akbar interrupted those dainty fingers by picking them up and holding her palms open in his. It reminded him of the wedding night - her palms weren't adorned with Henna as they were then, but they did flaunt the bright red patterns of alta.
With his attention firmly settled upon her expressions, he took the first finger to his lips for a light peck. And then the second. The third one, he held between his lips for slightly longer, till the sensations caused her to glance away for the second time.
But her hand did not recoil.
'My hand is willingly fastened to yours, my Sahib... because without you... any journey I take... along any path... on any day... cannot be beautiful'
Yes, that was what he was going to do now. Take her on a journey. A sort of a journey quite different from what most other newly-wedded brides would be taken on, though. So, how she'd react to it, he couldn't predict.
Nevertheless, connecting her fingers within his, he gradually led her palm upwards to the collar of his tunic.
Caught unawares, her glimpses returned to the sight of their clasped hands, to find him resting her fingers on the top knot of his tunic. She observed him - the language of his body, and the language of his eyes.
'Khan Sahib?' Her pulse took an chaotic turn. He wanted HER to take the lead? Wasn't it a big ask, seeing how she was young and unaccustomed?
But knowing him, he must have his reasons. And even if he didn't, she would oblige his wishes.
So, breathing through the jitters and overcoming the mild shake in her fingers, Heera slowly pulled the threads of his first knot loose. Responding to his next cue, her palms then moved down to the second. Subsequently, the third. And finally the fourth knot - all the while, her psyche trying not to reflect on how closely he was watching her throughout.
When Akbar peeled his tunic open, the first sight to catch her attention was the glint from the metal of his armour. It was the vest she'd observed through the binoculars earlier that noon. Was THAT what this was about?
She studied his face for some form of confirmation. But nothing on his angular profile had shifted - not even a frown line.
No, he was after something else.
And her hunch was proved true, when he drew her in much closer, until she was at the brink of his lap, directing her fingers again towards the armour buckle atop his left shoulder.
'Oh...' her mouth went cold from the swirls of air pooling in her throat. This was trickier than before. This was also more intimate than before - what with her skin prickling from excitement on sensing his simmering desires every other moment he exhaled. And as if that wasn't enough, there was the heat of his unblinking glares to contend with too.
But her husband made it easy on her this time - guiding her fingers most steps of the way. Till the clamp on the left shoulder was unbuckled. After which, they moved on to the fastener on the right.
By then, a couple of her initial jitters were beginning to settle. And Heera wouldn't deny - it was getting to be a very sensual spell indeed. Of the body AND of the mind. Getting to enjoy a personal audience with the pliable armour that borrowed its contours from a tough muscular frame. Getting to run her hands over the cold metal that protected the warm body beneath. Getting to handle the shield that'd weathered many-a-strike to bring her warrior home safe to her. 'My Ustaad Sahib'
Not long thereon and the armour came off. Apparently, so did the last of the masks that he'd been clinging onto from the start. For, upon his darkest depths, there was a thin film of mist. Through that thin film of mist she finally saw that he'd let her into the window of his soul. On his body, she'd finally gotten to see the extent of his scars. And to the keen eye of a healer, she could instantly recognise the few that were from battle, as opposed to the raggedly-healed marks of torture from his supposed-loved ones.
So THIS was what it was about!
'Yes, your Begum Sahiba loves you like no other... and will do so forever!'
He was testing the strength of that pledge by asking her to be a part of this difficult journey, wasn't he? Wanting to gauge her reactions to his vulnerabilities, his past. Which was probably also why he was adamant to have the light by them. Like she'd hoped, he wanted to keep no further secrets hereon. He wanted her to see him for who he was - scars and all.
'Oh my dear... my love...' she unwittingly clutched at her chest. Maybe because the flutters in there had been so light, the pangs of grief that came clamping down on her were infinitely more suffocating than she'd expected them to be. But no, she would not saddle his afflictions with her dismay.
Scurrying up on her knees, Heera cradled his face in all of her dainty palms 'Did you think this would change my opinion of you? You are as majestic to me, as you've always been' And when she inferred that she could offer him further reassurance, she lowered her palm to one of the first scars of torture that she could spot, just below his chest. And rested her features upon it. Grazing it with her lips without even realising she was doing so. Beginning to love to listen-in to the rhythm of his erratic beats that his heart played for none but her. Beginning to love the feel of her man's bare skin against her own.
His limbs stayed still as stone, his sentiments coming to terms with it all. There was no disgust. No disappointment. No curiosity. No questions. Not a shade of any of those, as her face had come against his chest. Nothing but pure unalloyed love. No, there could be no one else who understood what he needed as well as she did. There could be no one else who could handle his past, his insecurities, his work and his emotions like she did. No wonder his heart had recognised hers the moment he'd set sight on her. No wonder they were meant to be.
Weaving his fingers into her hair, Akbar gently lifted her head up, placing her gazes on par with his. 'Heera... I thank the Lord... for bringing you to me...'
His lips sunk into hers from a fresh fervour, while his fingers eagerly cascaded to the base of her neck, nudging the veil off her shoulders to make love to the part of her that nestled the most beautiful heart he'd ever known.
'Oh Khan Sahib...' she let slip a parched cry when she felt his face descend below the base of her throat as her veil fell. Her arms reached for whatever support they could find, her bangles clinking past his shoulders, till she grabbed at the nape of his neck. He had pushed opened a new physical barrier, and the nerves that'd only just settled were jolted again, sending a maze of flutters in the pits of her stomach.
But along with those nerves was born a few poignant reminders too. That by embracing the abode of her heart, he was hoping to derive the same pleasures as she did, by feeling her skin against his own. Hoping to derive the same pleasures as she did, by listening-in to the rhythm of her erratic beats that her heart played for none but him.
The forces of her grip relented.
Tilting her head back she slowly welcomed the intimacy.
Akbar read the quiet love notes that her body was leaving behind for him to discover and let his lips trail down. When her limbs subsequently went limp in his, he took it upon himself to become her bolster. His arms balanced her shoulders within its confines, while his palms let go of her hair to prop her spine.
'Wh...' The young lady awoke from the reverie, to the presence of his fingers on her spine, around the threaded tie-backs of her blouse. Abandoning the refuge of his shoulders, her hands demurely scurried up to cling on to the neckline of her blouse. 'I... I...' there was a mellow apprehension in her eyes.
In response, he said nothing. But silenced her stutters by slanting his forehead gingerly upon hers. He'd understood. He'd stopped. He waited.
The couple stayed that way, suspended in an ethereal trance for several beats. Till the reminders at the back of her head, started playing just a little bit louder 'My hand is willingly fastened to yours ... because I know that without you... any journey I take... along any path... on any day... cannot be beautiful'
So, when she'd promised to travel with him wherever he'd take her, then why make him wait? Why make him wait, when this was nothing but another expression of love? Why make him wait when the pleasure was mutual? Why make him wait as if he hadn't already waited enough?
Leaving behind her apprehensions, her hands reverted back to his shoulders. And Heera curled her face in that safe sanctuary at the nook of his neck, her sealed eyelids envisioning his hush smiles as he nuzzled at her hairline.
Bit by bit, her long tresses were shifted aside, before his fingers coasted towards the first tie-back of her blouse. Realising she was about to entrust him with the most intimate part of her identity - the possession of her body - her arms bound onto him a notch tighter.
Then, her skin felt the first knot come undone.
The second.
And finally, the third.
'Khan Sahib...' she softly choked on her breath, before her attire came off the shoulders.
His lips parted, instantaneously drawing in a sharp rush of air.
But he forgot what he was meant to say thereafter. Nothing. Absolutely nothing - neither the most vivid imaginations nor the most far-flung fantasies could've prepared him for this beauteous vision of his woman that he'd come to face with.
'Heera...' Lured by the glamour of her feminine silhouette, his body swiftly lost itself in the sensations of her sleek curves easing into his frame. She, on the other hand, was discovering a new kind of joy - the kind that came from relinquishing control of herself in the demanding throes of her man, the kind that arose from letting the planes of his physique wrap every breadth of her virginal form.
Later, that night...
'I... I... I... ca... cannot... please...' she whimpered a half-hearted protest - her tenth protest since the newly-discovered pleasure spots on her body had come under the receiving end of his unbridled passion.
Only to give in to his sorcery again.
With bated breath she clawed at his hair, her playful outcries turning feebler as the edge of his nose began moving below the arc of her neck once more, and farther down her midriff. The slick stubble of his chin made her skin quiver from an untamed ecstasy, till the smooth of his lips becalmed those impulses. At times, his fingers subjected her to the many skills they possessed, and at others, he lovingly availed the few brutish advantages that came from being a man.
Thus sending a hundred shudders bolting through her.
But he didn't just stop there now. From the slender curvature of her hips, he took a different direction onwards, to approach the waist-knot of her silk skirt.
'No... Kha... Sa... stop' all of a sudden, the wrists that interrupted him were feeble no more 'I... I...' she heaved breathlessly 'please... please give me a few moments...'
So, he did. With a dreamy look of contentment on his features, he glided up, lingering closer to the outline of her face.
Of course, he could have gone on forever. God knows, his body was screaming for it following that intense spell of love-making. Especially after witnessing his wife willingly drift in the strong currents of this all-consuming love alongside him. Thus willingly experience the sort of delightful rapture she'd never experienced before.
A rapture she was still reeling from.
However, now that they were pushing through the last of the barriers, now that their journey was reaching its pinnacle, she wanted to be able to look into the eyes of the man she was about to become one with - with no latent trepidation. And for that, she first needed a few instants to compose herself.
'Khan Sahib...' she clasped his face with the other palm, their hearts beating against each other's in an impassioned symphony 'you've been so quiet... say something...'
'Say something?' his brows drew into a straight line. Wasn't it an odd juncture for such a request?
'Then again' he studied the trepidation lacing her stares. He hadn't said anything much to her this night, had he? Asked her none of the questions a husband would ask a wife on their wedding night. Paid her none of the flowery compliments that a lover would. But he didn't know how to come up with something 'nice' right away. And anything otherwise could ruin the moment.
'I am no poet, Heera...' Akbar scoffed at the nature of his drawback 'even that letter I wrote you took a good bit of ruminating.'
A genteel grin broke out on her lips. Being swathed by the warmth of his torso was reassuring in itself. Flattering too. There was nothing further that poetry could offer. 'I wasn't asking for poems, Khan Sahib... poems exaggerate... many times lie'
Oh, so she wanted him to make small talk? Whisper sweet nothings? He would probably have to try by quoting from the first few sentiments off the top of his head then.
'Heera...' He leaned onto her wrist, his jawline softly shifting her bangles about 'I might not have told you this before... but, I've always considered you to be the most attractive woman I've ever met... tonight... I realise how far I might have undermined the extent of your beauty...' he smirked, almost as if embarrassed to admit it aloud 'so much so... that I think I had to remind myself to breathe... when... I... I... you must have noticed'
Her smile blossomed into the deepest of crimsons. 'Yes I did...'
'I thank the Lord for bringing you to me... everyday... I did so even when we went our separate ways... and especially now, that we're together... in fact, I said the same a short while ago... when you embraced my scars... you might've heard me'
'Oh...' THIS came as a pleasant surprise since it was something she hadn't gotten to hear. And it was more touching to hear him repeat it out loud. 'Khan Sahib...' her pupils misted, the palm that was still guarding the drawstring of her skirt slowly recoiling to make its way up his arms 'And you claim you are no poet!'
Midnight...
'Heera...' his voice was thick and hoarse from speaking through short bursts of breaths 'my love...'
'Yes?'
He pushed back all of the stray locks behind her ears as he spoke with authority 'First look at me'
She let a few beats pass, pulling herself together, before opening her eyelids 'Yes...'
'You do not have to put yourself through this...'
'But I am fine...' Heera lied, putting on a brave smile
'Trust me, you've given me more happiness than I could've ever asked for...'
'Oh, Khan Sahib! I am a woman... a healer... and this is but a small hurdle that every woman would willingly overcome, for the man she loves...'
'This can wait...'
'But, my love...' she mimicked a poor imitation of the authority in his tone. 'I AM fine'
A long unconvinced sigh later, Akbar replaced her hands upon his shoulders, wrapping them on firmly, in a bid to make her happy. His frowns however, would make no effort to conceal the concern in them. Then, he cradled her head within his palm, hoping it'd help him be as gentle as possible as he made love to her.
Following his lead, she hugged him tight, hiding her face in his hair this time. For, she knew he wouldn't go through with it, if he noticed the grimaces on her brows again.
The young bride would not deny - this final quest in their path to becoming one hadn't been an easy hurdle to overcome. It was, after all, their first experience together.
But as his wife, she alone could give him this gift. And she didn't want him to leave without receiving this gift of love from her. Besides, when every other journey he'd led her on had been a beautiful adventure, how would this not end beautifully? It would. She trusted in HIM to make it so.
Hence, when she sensed him move in closer again, her body pursued its natural flow.
'I... I... I...' her eyelids clamped shut as soon as she felt the physical outcome of his strong desires, her mind trying to draw her away from the pain by losing itself within the alluring perfume beneath his ears. Shortly, a tear trickled down the side of her cheeks - not as much from pain, as it was a tear of happiness - when she realised that she had indeed become his wife in all manner and form. 'My Sahib...'
And as it so happened, she was right in trusting him. As he was right in trusting her call. For, once they'd crossed the initial hurdles, the paths became more effortless, more lucid, more peaceful. And from a place of peace, it wasn't long before they were steadily moving towards a state of euphoria.
The night was short. But they slowed its demise by grasping at every instant with all they had, to create an unforgettable memory together. They knew that this place of peaceful euphoria could not be theirs forever. But for now, nothing would keep them apart in their fervent need to be with the other, in their fervent need to be one. Forget the seeping grains of time, not even a whisper of air would come in between them, as the two lovers who'd long been united by heart and soul finally came to be united by body too.
Sometime later...
'Ai Khuda' his smiles turned pensive. If he was going to be spoilt with such velveteen luxury tonight, how was he ever going to return to the discomforts of gravelly beds for companions? If he was going to luxuriate in the fragrance of his woman that rivalled most exotic rose ittars, how was he going to put up with the smell of muggy sheets and shawls tomorrow? Nevertheless, he tried not to let his mind wander to those realms as he cast a peek at the serene picture of his wife lazing upon his chest.
'Sleepy?' his fingers continued tracing a path along each strand of hair, in an endless loop of strokes down her bare back.
'No...' she fibbed with a drowsy smile, realising that the rate of his pulse had only just returned to near-normalcy. 'Khan Sahib...'
'Hmmm...'
Her hands moved across, over to the site of a scar on his hip, idly tending to the bruised skin there 'How did you get this?'
'In battleground... 7... no, 8 years ago... from an arrow'
'God... that must have hurt!'
Her wrists haltingly slid towards the site of another one, around his midriff 'And this?'
'From being struck by a short sword... during a hand-to-hand combat with a rival...'
'Oh dear'
Her fingertips then stalled at a burn mark below his chest, her brows contorting into a scowl. 'And this?'
The young man didn't answer straightaway.
'Khan Sahib?'
'When my stepmother chanced upon a corner I hadn't cleaned properly... and got hold of a sharp hot ladle'
'Wh...' she lifted her head up, peering at him in near-shock.
'And yet, I remember that the pain from the burn was not as bad as the pain I felt when my step-sisters mocked at me after the incident... ridiculing my inability to dress myself... and cover the marks'
Heera was aware of the tragedies. She'd seen the scars. Yet, when he said it that way, it didn't take long for her eyelids to feel the sting of tears behind them. She'd never known her step-mother. Even her own mother for that matter. But from what she'd heard, they were all very good people. Such cruelty was unfathomable to her shielded soul. 'I... I can't believe this...'
'Begum...' his chest rose and fell from a deep-throated groan 'after having spent such blissful moments together, why do you want me to rehash those miserable incidents now?'
'Because... you are the only family I have, and I yours... you are aware of my story... you are a part of it... similarly, I would like to be a part of yours too...' she added 'with you...'
His right hand slowly went up to his face, kneading his forehead to and fro, while he pondered on how and what to say. 'Chacha jaan, was it? When did he...'
'Oh please don't be upset with him... it was I who urged him to tell me the truth...'
Upset? No, he wasn't upset with the old man. Though displeased at first, he now realised that if it hadn't been for Chacha jaan, his reserved self might not have been easily inclined to speak of the past with his Begum.
'It's alright...' he exhaled 'I understand why he disclosed it to you... anyone else and he would've said nothing, not even with a knife at his throat'
An odd pause seeped into the conversation.
With her husband's unease getting evident, Heera chose to thaw her frowns into a gentle gaze 'Anyway... it's getting late... you must rest... we can talk later...'
'My father... Abbujaan' Akbar tucked his free hand behind his head, peering up at the ceiling, as if echoing his thoughts into the emptiness 'he was a rich businessman trading in clothes and silks... during one of his travels to Persia, he came across a striking young lady... and instantly fell in love with her...'
'Oh...' Surprised that he'd settled in favour of narrating his story, Heera listened-on with an unblinking stare - every bit like the intent 17 year old that she was.
'Abbujaan was an older man, but he was rich... so, the lady's father agreed to give his daughter in marriage to this businessman. She came home with him to India as his second Begum - his favourite Begum... and hated by his quarrelsome first wife - my stepmother - with a vengeance. She was charming... educated... intelligent... an ambitious young lady. And she bore him a son too!'
'Your ammijaan was charming, intelligent and ambitious?'
Heera needed no reminders that this lady did not play a positive role in this story. Yet, hearing him speak of his mother - that too, with a poignant aura of composure about him - managed to push the tears back for a bit. One thing was for sure though, she could tell from whom her husband had gotten most of his looks and traits. 'And?'
'Abbujaan loved his son... spoilt him in any way that he could. But alas, the good days came to an end when the old man passed away. His wives were not capable of handling the business by themselves... and worse, they had no idea till he was gone that Abbujaan had incurred a large debt too. The Khan household fell in ruin... gradually, everything was lost - lands... horses... cattle... servants... respect... honour... all of it!'
'Oh dear Lord!'
'Sometime after this, the boy fell ill... succumbing to a dangerous fever... the Hakims had given up hope... for many months, the boy awoke wondering if that day would be his last! When the affairs at home got unbearable, the boy's widowed mother decided to travel to meet the nobleman that Abbujaan owed money to... to request him to reconsider the debts.'
'Khan Sahib... what's happening?' muttered Heera under her breath, observing how the aura of composure around him was now disturbed.
'And the nobleman agreed to forget about the debts!'
'Forget about the debts?'
'YES! Because he... he... because he was bewitched by the stunning widow... and wanted HER in place of it. The irony... she wanted it too! He was smarter... younger... and had more to offer than Abbujaan ever had!'
The young man had to stop. To deal with a harsh prickling pain in his throat. 'So, the nobleman gave the widow two choices... she could return to her old home, back to the life of poverty and drudgery... or come live with him in the capital, as one of his wives, and enjoy the splendorous luxury that his position afforded. He did have a second condition too' sneered Akbar with a fierce contempt 'that he would only accept her, if she abandoned her past life... be it, her home, her name or even her dying child!'
Her core shaken, Heera finally broke her stares. Her head dipped low, grief swelling up her throat - almost as if she could feel the shame that he must have felt when he'd learnt of the news. 'I... I have no... no words... to...'
'After returning from that trip, the widow would cry herself to sleep every night... and the boy assumed it was because his mother was worried about his health... or agonised by his step-mother's abusive words... or fed up of the debts. He would always smile when he saw her, hoping it would make her day just that bit brighter. Little did he know... little did he...' the young man's voice cracked like parched Earth 'that it was because she was missing HIM... because she was making up her mind to leave her son for her lover'
'No... no... Khan Sahib...'
Heera shuffled onto her elbows, shaken to the core - gathering his face in a tender grip. Each word of what he'd just said was a hundred slow cuts to her soul. And if listening to it years later, was such an agonising experience for her, she couldn't even begin to imagine how agonising it must be to live this life! How agonising it must've been for that child! If only she had a magical cure to heal those nightmares. If only she could at least find the words to make him feel somewhat better now. Instead, her emotions got the better of her, and the tears that'd been held back till then came trickling down her face and onto him. 'I am so sorry she hurt you this way...'
'The thing is, Heera... if she would have never loved me, it wouldn't have hurt so much... she DID love me, in her own way, which is why it wrecked my life... I waited for her to return... for many days... despite the letter she left... but, no... she abandoned me... to suffer abuse alone... to die... and ran off with her lover... forever!'
His attention wandered into the emptiness beyond.
For the longest stretch, his glares were vacant, his mind too numb to share anything else.
And all throughout, Heera wouldn't leave his side, nestling him in the supportive cocoon of her hands, her quiet tears wetting his locks.
'Khan Sahib you need not hold back your tears. Not in front of me!'
'No...' he eventually shook his head, exhaling through his resentments, rubbing his face hard a few times to slap some dignity into his reactions 'I've exhausted my tears as a boy... I have nothing left now' Sniffling in the emotions, he brushed the wet trails off her cheeks too 'Anyway, it is a thing of the past... and I don't want you weeping over this either, Heera'
'B... but' she stuttered in disbelief 'Has she no idea about you? About where you live? What you do?'
A sad smirk curled his lips. 'Of course, she does. She's tried sending me a couple of messages... possibly behind her husband's back... but I wouldn't know what they said...'
'You wouldn't?'
'Why would I read her letters? She does not exist for me anymore'
'Not... exist... not... even if she wants to make amends?'
Removing the tender clasp from his face, he returned her fingers to the comfort of his chest.
'She... does... not... exist... for... me... anymore!' he spelt it out twice, to make sure the message wasn't underplayed 'and you cannot make amends with someone who does not exist for you, can you? In fact...' he held his palm out 'I want you to promise me one thing'
She didn't respond at once. She couldn't. 'I... I...'
His brow went up into a sharp arc 'Heera?'
Though hesitant, she eventually placed her palm in his 'Yes?'
'Promise me that you'd never try to contact her... or find out about her behind my back... in fact, I would much prefer if you try and forget she exists too...'
It was beyond her comprehension. All of it. The betrayal. The abandonment. The apathy.
But if this was what he wanted, if this was what made him happy, she would adhere to his wishes. 'I promise...'
A slow smile of acknowledgement diffused over his features. Akbar enfolded her closer, within his arms - the haze in his eyes conveying far more than what words could have. 'I love you...'
'I love you too...' She snuggled onto him, allowing her features to borrow some of that lulling smile he'd just conjured up.
'Anyhow...' she shortly reassured herself 'he seems to have found a new peace now'. That was what mattered, didn't it? The void in his life - she was here to fill, forever. She would brim his days over with such laughter that there would no place for apathy. Her company would never let his nights suffer from deafening silence again. She'd become the family he had lost. And the home that had been snatched away, he'd get back too, as they rebuilt a life here, together.
'Shubh ratri'
'Shab-ba-khair'
Next morning...
'You are right...' his husky notes skimmed past her ears 'I do seem to find myself feeling a new sense of peace... and something tells me you're the one to thank for it!'
No. She didn't shuffle.
With a muted grin, he watched on. Her comely form was lying upon his side of the bed, holding onto his pillow as if it were him, while her mind was probably afloat in a far-flung world.
So, his hands quietly slipped a small farewell message under their pillow. And his lips decided to leave behind a parting gift on hers.
'Khuda Hafiz'
No. She wouldn't even move.
That she wouldn't stir when he awoke, he'd expected - it wasn't day break yet, with darkness still pervading most of the sky.
That she wouldn't move while he buckled up his vest or strapped on his dagger belt, had left him wondering.
But that she wouldn't even be aware of his kisses now, truly left him amused.
'Then again' he reasoned - with ever-a-clear conscience and now, a mind without worry, it was no surprise she slept so serenely.
In fact, her present state mirrored the state of his own mind too. No doubt, a restful night and a few hours of good sleep had helped. But it was the moments he'd spent with her that'd brought these changes on. The thoughts, the words, the emotions and the secrets that this fascinating woman had made him unburden overnight, the affections and the desires that she had let him unleash, had finally given his soul - a soul that'd been travelling aimlessly for years - a permanent sanctuary.
And as he departed on this mission today, he felt like a new man - leaving with the comforting knowledge that he had a family, and a home to come back to.
Please join me in about 20 days time to find out what fate has in store for our young leads!
A humble request to my readers - if you read the story, please leave me a line, or a small shout 'like', to let me know... since there can be nothing as encouraging to an author as the support/encouragement she gets from her readers :)
Pati Patni Aur Panga
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