Love Digger's husband Ch 33 6/5 - THD 2 LNK - Page 72

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Hi sweetnesses 😳
Here is the next update. 🤗

Chap 23:

 

Geet:

 

Maan "Of course I am with you. I love you, you know that right? Don't hesitate to ask me for any help."

 

Geet forgot that she was crying and spoke excitedly "Really?"

Maan "Kyu, Koi shak?"

 

She began giggling again. She was so excited about life in general. No obstacle was insurmountable. She was getting inspiration for writing a million different stories.

 

With a facade of hurt she asked "But I thought you hated women!"

Maan winked "But my lioness is a tomboy, right?"

 

Geet smiled "Yep. I am so."

 

She was feeling so blithely calm. As if a thousand fairies were flitting around her like fire flies. She had to just touch one of them for the light to stain her fingers. The dull ache in her temples from all the crying was only magnifying the effect.

 

Geet "How do you do it? Be so I don't know calm. Like your face infuses me with an aura of calmness. What should I do to achieve that state?"

 

Maan smiled "Become older."

She snorted in response.

 

Maan "That does not always work though. I can tell you what I do. I meditate. Not regularly. Only when I feel I am losing the calmness."

 

She furrowed her brows "Meditate?"

 

He did not look like a person who meditated. He was too 'cool'.

 

Maan "When I feel that inner turbulence and when everything goes out of my hands, I just close my eyes and halt all voluntary activities. I let the peace wash over me. My sister calls me modern Sanyaasi."

 

Geet had to hide a smile. That described him aptly.

Maan "I have a world record of sorts. Once my grandma thought I was dead."

 

Geet was alarmed "What!"

Maan smirked "What would anyone think if somebody floats on their back in a lake without moving for four hours?"

 

Geet "Four hours? You are kidding."

Maan "Nope. True story. I am the undead legend in our village today."

 

She was shaking her head. This man was too much. There was something new to know about him everyday. He had so easily said he loved her. Included her in his 'special' circle. He meditated. She was officially brain dead.

 

Geet "By the way earlier for one moment I thought you were talking about 'ishq waala love'."

 

Maan "What?"

 

He looked at her puzzled. Obviously. Since when did the old relic start understanding the latest lingo.

 

Geet "Don't tell me you missed SOTY."

Maan "SOTY?"

 

Geet "Yes. It is such an amazing hindi movie by JKo. It teaches students about love, friendship and competition."

Maan looked a bit skeptical "Really?"

Geet "Oh yes. It is a journey of a girl who learns to differentiate between her true life long future love and love formed out of a long past friendship. Most amazing. I had tears in my eyes when she chose the right person for herself."

 

Maan nodded "Right. But I don't think it is to my taste. I don't watch chick flicks you know."

 

Geet "It is not a chick flick! The movie is actually about the spirit of the competition as the title suggests. I am telling you it is worth watching."

 

Maan shook his head.

 

Geet "Ok wait, may be I have it in a CD somewhere. I downloaded it from this site."

Maan "Geet that is piracy."

Geet "Oh screw piracy, I don't want to miss great movies because I cannot go to a multiplex."

 

Geet went in and fetched the CD that had been lying gathering dust in her cupboard.

 

Geet "Ok watch it today and tell me how it is ok? It is really nice. I am telling you."

 

She saw him walking away looking at the CD with a fair amount of amusement. His broad frame was trying to make sense of the little person he had left behind. He was the most amazing person she had ever met or ever had the hope of meeting. She would not mess it up for anything. Somewhere his confession about Tara felt like a warning. Warning to not get carried away. He had mentioned that to her earlier as well. To not get carried away with his compliments and innuendos for it was his nature to be honest and forthcoming with his words.

 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

 

'A good writer is one who is not afraid to imagine.'

 

Afraid to imagine. That sounded familiar. She had not written about the boy, girl or Maan on the tissue paper at the cafe because she had been afraid to put her thoughts on paper. She had felt at that moment that writing about commonplace would let others invade her persona. It would give them access to her private thoughts. It had scared her silly. It had made her stiff and wooden.

 

But a writer is not one who writes thoughts. She imagines. She imagines what the person would feel like in a given situation. She wouldn't be hesitant in writing what she thought would be the character's direction. However 'silly' that writing may seem to others. She punched her fists in the air feeling a new sense of freedom. She had broken the shackles of her own imagination. And it was a freedom like no other. She screamed on mute and had tears in her eyes.

 

She would dare to put her thoughts on paper where others could read them. She would dare to let others judge her. She would take any criticism that came her way. She told herself this repeatedly. Earlier she had written only funny anecdotes or in her private diary. But writing about funny stuff was way different than writing about a person. Now she was going to write about people for other people.

 

She opened her diary and began another story. It was commonplace. But she would start by learning to imagine commonplace.

 

Geet Frank:

 

Here is the most ordinary love story that resulted in an extraordinary nation of diversity and harmony amidst acrimony. This is the love story of India's grandparents. Nope, Geet is not talking about Gandhiji's parents. Here 'grandparent' has a different connotation all together.

 

It was pouring cats and dogs. In the serene gardens of the Himalayas. Menaka was looking at the Holy River, the only river which did not wait for her King to replenish her. She flowed through vast fertile lands all by herself and she has existed since the beginning of time.

 

Menaka looked around her for the source of rain. There he was, his face as handsome and expressive as lightning, his voice as deep as thunder and his gait as fluid as rain. He was the Lord of Rain, her King. Indra.

 

Indra looked tense. He was fast approaching her but was accosted in between by a couple of her fellow 'Apsara's or heavenly damsels who were doomed to be beautiful for eternity. Rambha the volatile one was having her usual skirmishes with him. He was not giving her enough attention. He was too busy protecting his Kingdom. Tilothamma too had similar such concerns. They all loved their King and believed him to be the protector of their paradise on earth.

 

Menaka knew he would be a while and hence she got busy. She rarely wasted time being needy. He was such a busy man. And Menaka had all of eternity to argue with him. Why bother at the moment? She brought in her rough shovel and began digging. She was not afraid of getting her hands dirty. For after all her body was immune to the usual tribulations that a normal human body faced. She was jealous of humans though. They had such a short time on earth and hence they strived the better to make full use of their quota of time. A few lucky ones even managed to get their souls merged with the creator, Brahma.

 

But heavenly damsels had no such luck. They were a gregarious bunch which had all kinds of petty human frailties of mind but not of body. So the effect of the same was magnified. Even a small insecurity threatened to balloon up into something uncontrollable and then explode. They were used to their luxury way too much to live without it. Heaven could sometimes be called hell.

 

So Menaka kept her hands busy. Busy hands meant busy minds. That was her limited philosophy. She was not like the other apsaras who looked at themselves in the river all day long and sung their own praises during the night. She had decided a long time ago that she would learn to create paradise wherever she went. So she had gotten to doing gardening. She could now boast of creating gardens that looked like garlands to anyone who flew by. Many a Gods had complimented her skills and imagination. Her fame grew far and wide. But she stuck to her roots. Literally.

 

One weed root especially was being stubborn and was not getting out. She dug her nails in deeper getting them filthy. No matter; her friend the River lady was nearby. She could sense him now observing her from behind.

 

Indra "How can you smell so fresh after a long day of toil?"

Menaka shrugged "It is this new flower I use. I crossed a couple of species to get the effect without attracting too many bees. I believe now I can create a paradise without its usual invaders like wasps and bears. All I need to learn now is to create rivers. But I believe that is hard without you. Not every water can be Ganga."

 

Indra smiled "Sure. With strong will and determination anything is possible. But before you can try your little experiments I have something for you."

 

Menaka was beyond herself with happiness. She actually had to do some 'work'? She had forgotten how exciting that felt. A long time since anyone had done work around there.

 

Menaka "What is it? Before you can even ask me, I say yes."

He laughed "Hear me out first. And please don't tell the others. They will kill me. In their mind. And I cannot bear that."

 

Menaka drew the flower on her hair across her mouth.

Indra "Good. Now I want you to seduce Vishwamitra."

 

This was the 'work' he was talking about?

Menaka "Aa….you mean this great sage who is all set to become the greatest sage in all of the worlds?"

 

Indra nodded. She looked crestfallen.

Menaka "My Lord, this man has been meditating for like a hundred years. Are you sure it is the same man you are talking about?"

 

Indra "Indeed. At the rate at which he is going I am afraid he is going to possess super worldly powers. He wouldn't hesitate to come here and snatch this heavenly abode from us. I can almost feel his presence right about there. It is nauseating. Paradise cannot be lost at any cost!"

 

Menaka looked pained "But my Lord, I have heard he only wants to become better than his nemesis Vashishta. It is not his aim to conquer the world. He is not even looking at Paradise. He has lost all will for pleasure and has even given up his Kingdom. Surely you must be mistaken."

 

Indra "No Menaka. There is no telling what he might do once he gains that kind of power. I don't want to risk it. I want you to break the penance and meditation that is the source of his power. I know you can do it."

 

Menaka shook her head "No my Lord. I cannot. I exercise my free will and say I cannot do this for you."

Indra sighed "Then I am afraid I have to take away your right to free will."

Menaka stared at him flabbergasted "You mean I do not have free will anymore?"

 

Indra "Consider this my order although I hate ordering."

 

She looked pained. She knew that Indra knew of her faithfulness. She would never go against the word of the King. Indra very well knew she would not try to seduce her way out of an order.

 

She sighed "Ok I will do it."

Indra smiled "I know you will do this for me. See you when you get done."

 

She nodded. She had to do this. But she was not so confident about it all. The other 'apsaras' teased her about being too virginal in her approach to life. And that only meant her methods were always 'hit or miss'. She was a maverick. She never knew the end of her own hair sometimes and got it entangled in bushes. She was always a little girl at heart.

 

Vishwamitra was the product of Kshatriya – warrior clan and Brahmin – learned clan. He possessed the best of both worlds in spirit; being brave of heart and mind. His name was Vishwamitra, a dear and friend to all of the world. And Indra expected her to succeed here? Was it some sort of a prank? But no. Her King did not indulge in such tomfoolery as her peers. He always had respected her will to remain different. He never asked her to 'grow up' like the others did.

 

Then she decided. She was going to see the great sage. Just see him and ask him for clarification. She would ask him to tell her whatever she heard about him was true. And share a little about his tentative future plans. That was it. She would only cause a brief intermission in his penance and be gone before he could even realize it. Surely a sage would have the heart to understand a lady who was being true and fair? This way she would have done her job and not sinned either.

 

She was now standing in the unruly forest that was supposed to house the man who had been meditating for a great many years. She tried spotting him but sages who meditate so deep become one with nature and hence are difficult to spot. Wild creepers grow through their beards and their earthly body gets reduced to a mere skinny skeleton. Their skin tone became one with the barks of the trees that surrounded them.

 

She sighed and began searching for the sage of exalted mind and body. She had her work cut out but she was not cut out for a forest. She could not wait to return back to civilization.

 

When she finally came by the illustrious sage she was astounded. Astounded by the raw intellect of a 'Brahmin' that shined through his handsome face and the well built body of a 'Kshatriya'. She had already heard of wild tales of his bravery and valor that had almost become akin to fables.

 

She did not know what in the name of Paradise she was doing. She began to clear the forest around him and started gardening! Surely the great one needed a nice place to sit? Nothing was going according to her plan and as she was creating the said garden she felt a new alien feeling developing within her. She kept humming.

 

Here I was a nameless flower in the garden of heaven

Everyone said I reminded them of warmth and kindness

Thus they kept admiring my unique color and symmetry

 

But upon seeing you I have given myself a name, after you

And wherever you go I would crane my neck to follow

 

For I am Yours forever, call me Sunflower.

 

He sensed the disturbance and opened his eyes. He looked at her with a ferocious intensity that was a transference from his meditation "Why! Aren't you lovely. Who might you be?"

 

They say the layers of an Indian epic is up for anyone's interpretation. Even the original epics are considered to be only an interpretation and legend sometimes. Daarji used to say Indian stories are so old that even carbon dating cannot date them and that it is more ancient than the papyrus on which they were written. Sometimes he exaggerated of course.

 

This story was narrated to Geet by her grandfather a long time ago; long is always a relative term. Before you can fly off on a different tangent, Geet likes to clarify that the story Daarji had narrated was a perfectly innocent fairy tale where every character was good. She has just let her own imagination run amok. For reasons not so obvious to even herself she is feeling like giving another rendition to the timeless classic. She shall go with the title of 'The Love Digger's Husband' until a better one comes to mind.

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fabulous

amazing update dear.

resss...

Seriously buddy ,you left me speechless today.
First the open hearted ILU of Maan (be it said with diff. intentions),then Geet's chirpy declaration to be free and then d Maneka-Vishwamitra tale,told in Ur own style and its relation to my Maaneet...each and every part of the update was outstanding.

Literally loved d update.
And wenever its related to epics,period stories or history,I got super excited to read it.Thanx for d addition.

Thanks for updating Sheesh! Edited by had2bu - 11 years ago

Nice prt
liked it bt dont eant to learn abt indra and menaka
we want maneet

As always, Sheesh... you are you and none can inspire me the way you do and throw me out of ease. Besides all the other firsts you have created for me, you just added another. For the first time, I would be fine, even if this story does not have a Maan or Geet! I was just so caught up with your reading of Menaka-Vishwamitra that I was thrown way into another spectrum! Now, tell me something. Have you ever written anything before Maaneet happened to you?  Edited by SiniHanda - 11 years ago