𝐀𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐀

e l e v e n

❦

    NEXT MORNING COULD not come fast enough. As decided, she was up and about at the makaan. There was indeed no time to wile away and no reason for her not being there.

    Aaina had to admit the place seemed less terrifying in the daylight, although it shouldn't be like that since one can see everything very clearly. But the nights loved to play with people's minds

    Amar and Milan were nowhere in sight, and neither were the gates locked. It made her furious that due to that irresponsibility, antisocialites raided the land. She'd have to confront Amar about it. Not that he'd listen to me, she thought, but it almost felt like he didn't even care about his home anymore.

    The strain of thoughts about the same led her further inside the makaan much more confidently. Her eyes unwavering, and she marched straight into the room where she was last night, huddled in dripping clothes and soaking up all the warmth from the fireplace. But now it was time to take a step in the unexplored.

    For a moment, the emptiness of the place fueled her inquisitiveness more than fear. Like a peacock out of the cage and away from other beings. Powerful and free.

    The first thing she did was run towards the mahogany ash staircase with wider steps than she ascertained. No care of how breathless she was when she reached upstairs, Aaina's spirits already had her hastening into a large, dusty room, the first one at the end of the steps.

    Faint light cracked over the rough, white floor that had patches of water dried up from the rain last night. She looked around all at once, not to miss anything in the first glance.

    The room unfurled like a chapter in the saga of her parent's lives. It was abandoned, metaphorically, but not an inch of dust was seen anywhere. Three mirrors covered the vanity table, the glass, and crisp and flawless, rimmed with dark stones. The room was definitely not in use for a long time, but it looked like it had been subtly cleaned every now and then.

    The jharokas, simple and old, the ceiling ; plain and empty, and more than half of the room, stuck to the walls. The  furniture was tied to the corners in their weathered allure, rendering the center of the room aloof.

    But there was room for contemplation. She now stood on the same floor her parents walked, breathing air through the same jharokhas they'd open every day and probably the very home where she was born.

    Something whirled in her chest. Her body went cold, but her heart fluttered in warmth.

    For a moment, she just walked around, taking the place in, wanting to cover all corners as many times as possible. A small laugh of emotion escaped her throat, quietly resonating in her entire form as she brought her palms up and cupped her neck, crouching her shoulders in joy.

    What surprised Aaina the most was the collection of old papers, books, and ledgers stacked alongside the desk. She stepped closer to see columns and numbers scribbled over the parchments and fair writing, but the blotched surface made it harder to comprehend. Did they work in some kind of accountancy or treasury? Was it an ancestral trade? How was everyday life like for them? What would they be talking about all day?

    She spent the entire day reading through the numbers and words, strange names, and different trades. She read whatever she could find, make sense of the parchments, and things stored around. Swamped in papers, stamps, and books, she took her time as she handled each with care.

    It was all too away from her experiences, but maybe Shashi and Jaswanti could help her. Aaina longed to take these back to Hira Ghar to spend more time in unraveling them, but it felt like stealing somehow and that she couldn't displace it from its own place for her own convenience. She wouldn't want Amar to do that either in her house. All was safe there all these years. Maybe she shouldn't tamper with it.

    She put back the heavy ledger and looked up to see four giant chests piled together. The enormity of the chests filled her with chilling fervor, that there is indeed more to be looked at, to know, to dream about her papa and mumma. Her fingers trembled with a zeal that galloped in the blood in her veins, desperately waiting to break open them all. Her palms grazed the greyed, ornate brass in a desperate surge, only to find them locked.

    She rummaged through the drawers around, hoping to find the keys to the chests. The delay only pulled on her aching heart that she'd just have to wait even more and that finding the destination is not always the solution if one can not decipher it.

   

❦

    It was perplexing how Aaina did not sleep for more than four hours and not weary at all. It felt as if her life was filled with warm beams that emanated through the jharokhas in the morning, a new purpose, or maybe an old one that she was simply reminded of.

    But the reality shocked her as she realised it was dark outside and she fell asleep after sunset. As she pondered over the thought, she recalled Razia had come to wake her up briefly and said something about food in the kitchen, after which Aaina had dozed off again.

    "Come on now, wake up, or I will have to lock the doors from outside when I leave. This Mansingh naa has no regard for his job. Will get him fired one day, " she remembered Razia saying.

    To which she had sleepily replied. "Why, where is he?"

    "He spends most of his time smoking by the chai tapris and gossiping with his friends. I tell him every day that you are at work and Hira Ghar is locked, so not to bother returning during the day. So your path is clear! But today you're spending the night here, and he has to guard regardless but—"

    Aaina scowled. "I don't understand. Can I go back to sleep now?"

  "At least remove your jewelry and dupatta. Aren't you uncomfortable?" Razia helped her sleep heavy body up.

    "Don't forget to eat the food, theek hai? Alvida"

    Aaina waved back at her subconsciously. She dragged herself to the dressing room and came out after what seemed like an hour, in soft, plain clothes, her long, untied hair fell over her back. Even eating seemed like a task too hard, so she ended up returning to her bed.

    Her senses piqued as her body tensed up as something loud emanated from outside the jharokhas. She almost recoiled to the force of the window doors closing, followed by an almost like a soft cadence of footsteps down.

    So Mansingh was finally back. Razia must have given him a good beating.

    Being alone was never really a bother. It was not the first time kaki was away except now that neither Razia nor Mansingh were present inside the house, Aaina felt maybe it was just her sleepy subconscious wanting to get her attention. As a matter of fact, she was tired. Mansingh could just come and attend to his tasks. She was not to answer. Even though her fingers worked to remove her earrings and neckpiece, her attention maneuvered at the open balcony. She felt her eyes returning back to the spot again and again.

  She forced her eyes close, as even a blow of wind would distract her agitated self. Giving up the task to keep the jewelry away in its case, Aaina dragged herself towards her equally messy bed and slumped her body on the soft, plush mattress, diving into deep slumber again.

❦

how was it?

do let me know your thoughts in the comments. It'll motivate me a lot ♡