The widowed bride

2. Birth of joy

Batuk's pov

The sun boomed, and I pounced from my bed, looks cool, ain't it?

well, this lazy ass, is still sleep-ridden on the couch, nice, healthy for baby, healthy mom!

Sometimes,I feel,bouthan, interprets me well, sometimes,I feel...I travel in a lonely voyage, alone, fury, pain........

The society, people around me, will curse this playboy for exploiting boudi, playing with girls.......Sometimes, when I see them, meet them, talk with them, a flurry of emotions so unfamiliar and confusing, dizzying but exciting rushes. their shy eyes daring to take a peek, And wandering hands, brushing fingers, clinging palms. At last, they all are nazi ladies, they won't love this heart but exploit it. The desire to receive a kiss. Greed; to feel our loved one's hand in ours and never want to let go.

Love is sinful at its core.No wonder it hurts.

To take something so innocent, so pure, and let time spoil it is cruel. Sinful. Inevitable.

A love that rips the heart in two. Painful. Cruel. Serrated with the rust of time left behind. Ragged breaths. Helpless whimpers. Longing caresses. Memorizing lines, quirks, the smallest of sighs.

Maybe, after dada's departure, my death would be a playful journey. Haha.

''Batuk, Roy Choudhury, rush to shower, and let's zoom .............'' he giggled and ran away.

It was the 6 month ritual of mourning for the dead person in the RC's mansion.

Author's pov

''Batuk?'' she questioned him.

''Bondita, where were you so long? I did wait-''his words were struck when he did notice her eyes. They were soaked in agony and her hair was messed up.

A sudden fear rose in his heart, and he asked her,'' where were y-o-u?...damn, answer,bondita....''

she was deafened. she couldn't hear anything except the fact, she's alone, far from his arms, far from the life, she wished for.

''Batuk, the dead ceremony's......'' the words his father-in-law had spoken, unnoticing the sober.

The golden pendant of Malika, dribbled out of her finger, breaking on the ground.

the words sunk down into her chest at the pitiful shake of his head. The "I'm sorry" that followed choked her breath from her lungs, and suddenly he towered over her.

It was painful to see her like this. All he could do was embrace her and let the torrent of her tears soak through his shirt. he could feel her clench her fists, not knowing whether to be mad or to give up hope altogether. he could hear her silently screaming, suffocating with each breath she took holding onto her pride. he strolled fingers through her hair, time and time again, in an attempt to calm the silent war within her mind. Her throat held back something between a sob and a shout. she flinched his arm, poking him, with restless eyes.

She was quiet, so quiet, that she had never been. Batuk, the player of hearts, had truly played something illicit tonight.

she broke the stillness, roughly,'' I think you dont love me, but we can't escape the fact that I had fallen for you. I knew this was going to happen. So I'm not blaming you for falling in love with me. I'm not angry, either. I should be, but I'm not. I just feel pain. A lot of pain. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt, but I was wrong....batuk,I was wrong''

He did fall for a widow, she was the bride of her elder brother, his childhood friend. He wasnt leaden to this path, he did choose himself, now only to split tears on her wound. he was loitering around, as a sober, for her to enounce something.