AZMA FF-Ishq da Ruthba Chap 9New note pg76 - Page 7

Originally posted by: asifiqbalsh

Nice start dear
Story seems interesting
Do pm me if u can
Thanks

Originally posted by: -shimmer-

o meri achi shreya...ff b likhne lagi wah 😉

rea wil comment aftr reading..

lago raho ji...😉

Originally posted by: milinda.shreyz

saach bolu toh I cannot imagine QH's current storytrack in present timeline...like poolside party, girls in skimpy clothes and crystal ball gazing, evil spirits rising, girl with mysterious power, lost in forest,cursed prince to her rescue, stufs dont really go along !
thank u for ur encouragement. even though u dnt like historical stuffs, u read it 😃

Originally posted by: oldooz

Awesome start Shreya! 😊
Loved your narration and the description of that Era !
The end of this chapter is really interesting .Waiting to know what is going to happen to mahira and where did the guys go ?
looking forward the next chapter!

Originally posted by: Sofna

Bkmrk - will read at leisure

Originally posted by: milinda.shreyz

I will post it within 2 days ! thank u for reading Noor !
I was actually waiting for u guys...but sab ke sab went MIA !😭

While the armed men were hurtling stones, Mahira's companions had silently departed.

She was all alone with nobody to turn to...Now that, was something Mahira had grown accustomed to. She had been all alone on that day at Zaffarganj, even with a house full of so called relatives. She was alone on the run. Now if she had to prove herself innocent in front of some village half-wits alone, so be it. She took a deep breath to fill her lungs with air and confidence and called out as loud as she could.

''I am a traveler, driven by misfortune. I am the daughter of a respectable scholar. I seek accommodation for the night. Please, let me in.''

The men of the settlement looked both combative and terrified.

What the heck! "What harm could I do when compared to an Afghan fauj? " She rolled her eye in utter disbelief and irritation.

The men's voices grew agitated as their conversation descended into a heated debate. Then she remembered something, a name. ''I want to talk to Maulavi Sahab,Baba Pir Nawaz ! I am in distress and seek his help,'' She uttered desperately. Immediately all the commotion stopped and all eyes were fixed upon her.

''What are you?'' A new voice, much older and authoritative had joined. ''If you mean no harm, prove it.''

Prove how? She panicked. Was she going to be subjected to humiliating body search?

''Ordinary folks don't come to Janjgarh gaon after dark.''

''Daughter of Alim (scholar) !'', a voice thick with unease, called her, ''recite a sacred verse that wards off evil spirits''.

Mahira stared at them bewildered. These men weren't afraid of an attack from the Afghans, they were terrified of something else ! With her voice steady and resonant, she recited :

Bismillaahir Rahmaanir Raheem /

Qul a'uzoo bi rabbil-falaq ...

I seek refuge with the Lord of the Dawn

From the mischief of created things;

From the mischief of Darkness as it overspreads;

From the mischief of those who practice secret arts;

And from the mischief of the envious one as he practices envy.

[ English translation from Surah Al-Falaq ]

There was an uneasy pause as the men assessed Mahira. After a silent agreement, the gate creaked open and the night-watchers let her in.

The houses of the village were adorned with charms to ward off the evil eye. Iron horse shoes, sacred rosary beads, Neem branches, long ropes of lemon and dried chilies hung from windows and doorjambs of each hut. Only a few hours had passed after sundown, yet all the doors and shutters were tightly closed. In the flickering light of fire torches, the village looked quite sinister. In the centre of the village stood an important looking double-storied mud house.

''Gaon ka sarai'' Someone spoke. "I am the innkeeper, Nafar. Stay here for the night" Tears prickled her eyes at the thought of warm food and a bed. But how would she pay for them with 4 remaining copper coins? A weary looking woman opened the inn's door at Nafar's call and Mahira was ushered into a kitchen where a large pot of meat stew sat brewing upon fire. Once they were in, the woman set a large iron bar across the door. 'Jamilah !'' Nafar called, '' give the lass some thick roti. And is the stew done yet?''

''Only gur (jaggery) and water will do, Chachajan !'' Mahira hurriedly voiced and at once two pairs of eyes looked at her questioningly. "I cannot pay for food" She whispered almost inaudibly.

''Rehney dey Chokri.'' Jamilah, the wife,said warmly while stirring the pot with a ladel, ''we rarely get visitors here''. Nafar lit fire in his brass chilim and sat for a relaxing session of hookah while his wife laid food on a low table.

''Where are you headed?'' He asked as he exhaled a ball of thick smoke. Mahira hesitated. How could she tell them that she had no plans, no destination other than getting herself as far away as possible from Zabheda, her so-called Khala and her son Zaroon. She didn't want to lie either, so she settled for half truths. ''I have a rich step-sister, further down somewhere in this part. Nawalpur?'' She looked uncertainly at Nafar. '' Saira Banu Begum, the miller's wife''.

''You won't get a ride for another few days. This village is secluded from the other parts of the pargana by the forest of Bundelkhand. And then there is the Whistling Bamboo grove. Everyone avoids this village'' Jamilah explained while coaxing her to eat one more roti. ''Everyone fears this place. Don't you know, this place is under a curse!''

Mahira choked on her food and fumbled for the water jug. A curse ?

''That's true." Nafar's eyes grew distant. "If you step out of the village, you will put yourself in danger from what's up the hill and inside the bamboo groves.''

''What's inside the grove?''

Mahira's curiosity got the better of her and she began poking cautiously.

''A dark shadow lies upon that grove, sinister and cruel. They say powerful dark magic summoned it to our lands in my great-grandfather's time, and here it remained forever plaguing this wretched place.''

''Nobody knows what they are really, ghosts, nymphs or djins. Nobody has ever seen anything,'' Jamilah added, ''They whisper in your ear and make you stray from your path. People wander for days and then they are never heard from again''

Mahira put down the bowl of daal soup she was sipping and stifled down the urge to burp. ''Unladylike!'' Her sister used to chide whenever she did that at home. That was a long time ago. When Kaynat had been with her all the time. But this was not the time to delve into past misery, she had to know more of the present predicament and plan accordingly.

''So this barrier is not to defend from Afghan brigands ?''

Nafar scoffed. ''Those sons of goats won't come to this God forsaken place. This is the endpoint of the pargana, with nothing rich to offer. And even if they come we are all in for a slaughter. Who would look after us? We have no leader. No funds. No trained warriors.''

Mariha was by then done with her polite inquiry. She let her inquisitive self take charge, ''What about your jaigirdar? Can't he protect you?''

There was profound scorn in Nafar's voice. '' Hah ! Our chieftain, is a useless cur! Raheem Azad Mirza is not interested in our well being. He doesn't deserve the title bestowed upon him. He stays holed up in that fort of his, right on top of the cliff in Janjgarh,'' he waved casually in the direction of the dense banboo grove. ''Surrounded by his army of evil spirits. He is a slave to them rather than they his. Takes his tribute in good grains and livestock, sends for able bodied men to work for him, gives nothing back at all. His cronies come down to take supplies, read orders from him...he never shows his face. He is a good as dead.''

''People say he is twisted in body and mind. The curse has driven him mad... and vengeful,'' Jamilah dropped her voice dramatically and added, ''They say he hunts young girls for pleasure.''

"Jamilah!" Nafar's voice rose in reprimind, ''Don't fill the poor lass' head with nonsense. She will have nightmares tonight.''

Mahira laughed at the irony. Her own life's story had enough material for months of nightmares. These fanciful tales would be a welcome diversion. She had no time for idle fearful imagination. She had to live, earn money and plan her next journey. She had to reach Kaynat.

''I met two men in the forest,'' Mahira tried to change the direction of their conversation. "They helped me find this village. Latif and Mir Baksh , very pleasant and helpful.

''Who?'' Nafar frowned "The palace staff in extravagant clothes and his hypocrite sidekick in scholastic robes?''

''Ji haan, them. They actually saved me..." Mahira trailed off as she saw the reactions on the couples face.

''Azad's cronies! In fact the worst of them'', anger erupted like molten lava from Nafar's mouth.''Bigoted sons of the Devil ! No wonder, the guards were pelting stones at you. They saw you with them !''

Aahho ! All paths led to this Janab Azad Mirza ! Now conversation had become increasingly difficult thanks to his ubiquitous presence!

Nafars incessant outburst continued and she listened with polite interest. With food in her stomach her eyelids began to feel heavy as lead as the previous day's exhaustion finally caught up with her. Jamilah finally came to her rescue.

''There is a mattress rolled up in the store room. You will be safe under our roof '' She smiled kindly. '' dont forget to bolt your door.''

''they prefer new comer, you know. They creep through holes, sing to his ears, and then lead him outdoors into nowhere.The mischievous ones of them, Spirits!''.

Mahira wondered if these crazy stories would ever end.

''If this village is so full of suffering then why haven't you thought of leaving ?'' The question flew out with unwanted force before she could stop it.

''Leave Janjgaon ?'' , the innkeeper looked as if he had never heard anything more outlandish.'' leave and go where ? Janjgaon is our place. This is home''.

Jamilah looked offended when she showed her the room,'' Dont open the door and windows until sunrise''.

That night Mahira did not dream of whispering spirits or traitorous forest paths but of Zaffarganj and Jabheda khala. She had arrived just after dusk one day with her pasty faced son in tow, had called her father bhaijaan and had begged for him to have mercy upon his muh-boli-behen (village related sister) who was now widowed and homeless. With each passing day Khala sought to gain more control over the household, over her especially . Her tongue lashed out like a whip and cut to the quick at any perceived imperfections.

"You are nothing, nothing at all. Your father shouldn't have filled your head with wild ideas and impossible dreams. Women don't study, they don't touch herbal plants. They don't observe moon's path and star's location. Those who deal with them are branded as witches! They are stoned to death!" The spectral voice of her Khala reminded her.

"Are you a witch Mahira ? Do you want to be burned at the stake, you foolish girl?!"

A stinging slap followed.

"So ungrateful, Mahira! Even after all I have done for you since your father's death"

Another slap.

"Are you not ashamed that you haven't any skills befitting a respectable young woman? You have no dowry to tempt a marriageable man. Are you not thankful that Zaroon is prepared to have you with all your short comings?" He is ready to give you his name. What more could you want?

Vengeful claws grabbed her hair and dug their nails to her scalp, dragging her to the tiny windowless cellar room.

"Stay here Mahira, until you are repentant and more grateful"

The voice faded and darkness loomed large.

Mahira screamed silent protests and flailed her arms and feet feverishly. Then Zaroon's face floated in paralyzing her with terror and grief.

''Mahira you shall have to swallow you big fat pride lick my feet very soon. But you are disobedient. You should be punished. ''

Zaroon's dream image advanced with a sharp long knife. '' Let these marks remind you of your mistake and lead you to submission''.

Ground vanished beneath her feet. Thousands of bloodsucking creatures pounced upon her, sinking their pointed teeth deep into every part of her body.

A howl of deep despair filled the confines of the small room.

'' You are nothing, nothing any more'', the shrieking voice raved maniacally over and over again."

Sleep my dear. It all ends with a sleep

A gentle familiar voice crooned.

Abbu !

Mahira woke up with a start, heart hammering, Skin damp with the sweat. She looked around to reassure herself that she had indeed fled Zaffarganj, she was now out of their clutches.

Only a nightmare. I'm safe. Not there anymore. Safe.

With the reminder of her father's voice, she soothed herself to sleep.

[to be continued...]

Read Chapter 3 : Voices in the Groove

Writer's note :

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.

Special applause to PurpleCrayon Baisa, fairy Godmother of my baby ( the FF, its my dream project) who has willingly taken the trouble of editing, correcting and polishing the rough edges and transform my ugly duckling drafts into breath taking perfect chapters. She has wonderful command over language and a keen sense of precision and taste for dramatic flair. Afsos, she is not writing a FF herself. She has reconstructed many of my lines, gone line by line through my sleep deprived brain's gibberish product to remove spots and blemishes. She has perfected the paragraphs, given me suggestion which font to use and which technique to use while opening a historical fiction. . This story has become hers priority equally.She is making my dream come true.

Kruti, I really dont know how to express my gratitude and appreciation. Words wont suffice, so I hope my upcoming chapters would live upto your expectation and make your editing job less dull and more intrigued with flow of actions. Thank you, once again !