Under the King's GAZE || MaNan

4

NOTE: His full name is "MRITYUNJAY MANIKKAM MAHADWITIKARA" 

Let the story proceed, she will call him manik only! 

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She held her wet, damp hair in a cotton cloth drying off the moisture from her hair. She was weak and so couldn't complete her household on time. A painful tear escaped her eyes thinking about what exactly happened today morning.

As she slept late, last night, she couldn't wake up when Sallaan called her. She was unconscious and in a deep slumber. Getting no reply for his call, he barged in the cow shed and immediately clenched his palm at the sight of the sleeping lady. He pulled her up, fisting her hair in his fist, harshly and dragged her in the varanda. He slapped her vigorously and punched her neck, giving all the vulgar abusive words that one could have thought of.

She weeped, what can she even do further? Soon Sallaan's mother intervened and brought her out of his sight. Sallaan's mother has been utterly sick. She can hardly move or sit. Her backbone has left her support and all her daily rituals were possible due to that young lady who in such a tender age, selflessly devoted herself to the old woman's service and household.

It was a peak afternoon but the shadows of banyan trees spread across the house kept it in the shed and cool. After soaking her hair in the wet cloth, she began tying her dupatta in the hem of her choli and then to the corner of the waist, in her skirt. Her old and rough clothes were smaller compared to her size, also way too tight for her budding body. 

On that, her wet hair and body added fuel to her pure, raw and flowery smooth golden pinched skin. She applied kohl in her big brown eyes and wore her waist band to keep the dupatta tugged over her chest. Little did she know that her outdated blouse failed to hide a lot that should never be seen. And today, she looked no less than a fantasy.

As she saw the old woman sleep, she covered her with a blanket and was about to leave for the cow-shalla (home) when he knocked.

Here, breathing was uneven for Mritunjay. He never felt this helpless and somewhere this anxiety annoyed him. He wanted to see her from close, he wanted to know her name. This woman really did possess something extraordinary that she pulled the mountain of a man to her doorstep.

As the sound of unlocking reached mrityunjay's ears, he stared more widely and profoundly. But to his disappointment the door didn't open, rather a small khidki on the same door laid open with which nothing but the view of another door could be seen. He was genuinely annoyed and dhanush knew it.

"Arre koi hai ke nahi?? Mazak chal raha hai keya? Khadeerdaar ki koi izzat hai tumhare dhandhe me ke nahi??"