The Unventured Passions

Lost and Gained

Dear readers, this is my second update for the day. I'm just in a mood to write, and hence writing... Enjoy.

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Human behaviour flows from three main sources; desire, emotion, and knowledge. And, it changes as per situation, environment, and background, the aim of these changes being to sheath one's vulnerable self from the hard face of the world.

The night had grown old, the environment had changed, and so did the situation, and when Satya saw Raimoti's unconscious face in the dim light of his safe shelter, amidst known company, he felt his urgent confession of love to her to be a distant dream.
They weren't in the middle of a blast anymore, death wasn't threatening them with it's red sinister eyes, and at that moment, when Satya sat on the low wooden chair, bandaging his own wounds, his entire body breaking in pain, all he could think was how thankful he was to the lady lying infront, unconscious, and yet her face reflecting the act of heroic deed that she had committed that night.
Satya smiled, and closed his eyes, his head leaning back on the dampened wall in search of a cold comfort.

"Satya Da, shall I inject you with some morphine?" Batuk was standing infront of him, his eyes examining the wounds and his heart writhing at the realisation of how painful these must be for the indomitable Sacrosanct, he too, was a man of flesh and blood after all!

"No, don't waste them on me Batuk. Our brothers would need them more."
Satya replied softly, his eyes still closed in exertion.

Batuk had played his part that night, a little too religiously perhaps, as he, along with few others from his group, had returned back to fetch Satyakirth from the deathly grip of the menacing encounter. Despite Satya's clear instructions to not engage in any confrontation, Batuk couldn't stay back that night, the urge to save his idol being his primary polestar.
He had arrived after the final blast, and had witnessed severed limbs of British police scattered here and there. The palace was in ruins!
Crutching on faith and determination, he had searched for Satya, and he had found him, buried under the branches of a fallen tree, and in his chest, was buried another, Raimoti Mukherjee!
Satya had narrated how she had acted that night, her grit, her courage, everything, and hearing him praise her so highly, Batuk couldn't help but feel a small sting in his heart...
Was this the same Raimoti?
The one with whom he had almost...

Satyakirth had returned from the dead, but the night was still filled with sorrowful mournings, for, the cruel darkness had taken away two of their dear comrades, Ramcharan being one of them. 
The boys were sad too, and they lamented the lost ones, sitting with their teary eyes. And, as Satya tried to get up to enliven them with his compassion, he heard a soft groan coming from the bed where Raimoti had laid.

You lose some, and you gain some... and that's the way of a battlefield!

"She's waking up..." Batuk had jumped up at once.  "You sit, I'll see..."

Satya hadn't objected.
Although he had wished to be the only person to see her when she would open her eyes, but, the idea of this sudden possessiveness had made his strong rationality surface once again, from underneath the layer of vulnerable emotions that he had felt that night.

Raimoti groaned again. The cut on her forehead was neatly treated already, but the impact of the concussion had made her feel extremely dizzy.
She opened her eyes slowly.

The dimly lit room felt unfamiliar to her, and the smell of Amoxicillin unbearable.
"Where am I?" She murmured with half closed eyelids and then her diluted orbs acclimatized with the outline of the face that had hovered on her, the face that she had expected the least!