The Unventured Passions

Cruel Compassion

If 'being irritated' had a real face!

Batuk was standing with a frown on his brows, his eyes narrowed and his lips murmuring inaudibly.
"Wait. Wait. Wait.... damn Bondita, this sounds easy, right?"

"What are you saying?"
Bhargavi too was frowning sharply at him, both their eyes gauging each other in an unnecessary threat that was almost comical to look at.

"What's that to you?"
Batuk narrowed his eyes and folded his arms in defence.

"Are you generally this mean to everyone or is it a special occasion today?"
Bhargavi asked him with the same serious expression.

"Definitely special occasion." Batuk let out a fake grin. "What can be more special than meeting you two."

"Rude." Bhargavi looked away, murmuring the words.

"Oh...! and isn't it rude to barge into someone's life without invitation?" Batuk caught the trail of her words and questioned back.

"No one intrudes willingly, it's... It's compulsion." Bhargavi looked down, her last words were a slow whisper.

Rishit Sinha was sipping tea inside the bakery, while Mira and Bhargavi stood outside the open pavement of the shop along with Batuk. Bhargavi was standing close to Batuk, their eyes constantly waging cold battles, as Mira stood a little aside, her head down, and her arms clutching a small white cloth sack to her rapidly beating chest. This was the first time she had ever been outside Dehradun, and the clamour of the big city had left her completely disoriented.

How would she find him, her Anirudh, in such a big city?
Mira felt bouts of tears trying to break free from her core, tears of apprehension, tears of losing, and her only hope was Anirudh Babu, the man she had worshipped every day, every night since the past one and half years.

Rishit had paid the porters and the two tin trunks were kept near Batuk's feet.

"Why are those British police looking at us?" Bhargavi suddenly asked, and Batuk turned towards her gestured direction and looked away disdainfully.

"Why don't you ask them?"

Bhargavi had stirred at his suggestion, and probably she would have complied too, as suddenly she heard Batuk yell out at Mira.

"Arey... Arey... Don't sit there... It's a dustbin."

Bhargavi turned around at once, only to find a startled Mira looking at them with wide fearful eyes.

"Gaovar!" Batuk murmured and looked away disinterestedly, and Bhargavi held his arm at once, startling Batuk with her touch.

"Excuse me? What did you just say?"
Her words were sharp and Batuk rolled his eyes at her.

"I said... You sister, or whatever she is to you... Is extremely foolish."

"Don't consider her simplicity as foolishness, Rude Telephone Babu."
Bhargavi had walked up to Mira and had pulled her by her hand, closer to where they were standing.
Batuk too, took a quick glance at her fearful face, reddened and flushed in embarrassment and anxiety, and the moment his senses nudged his heart begging a little compassion, his stubborn sense of protecting his brother's marriage came in its way, making him look away at once.

"What's happening here? Is everything alright Madam?"
A young British officer approached Mira, looking at her rubescent face with curiosity, drinking in the beauty of her mountain white unblemished skin and her sharp features. Even the mild February heat of plains had reddened her skin, tinting her in an attractive glow.

"Are you alright Madam?" The officer asked again in accented English, taking amusement from the nervous uneasiness of the fidgeting pretty woman.

"Ya, she's alright. Thank you." Batuk spoke up, not been able to keep himself aloof from the situation any longer.