The Unventured Passions

At Her Cruel Mercy

Posting as promised. But do vote and comment in the previous chapter as well.
I'll post the next once both the chapters are at per with sufficient votes.
Keep reading. ❤️
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There's a reason love is invisible, undetectable with anything but our minds. Men perhaps aren't evolved enough to be trusted with it. They'd try to engineer it, alter it, use it, weaponize it. Aren't there always great reasons to do immoral acts? Or are they excuses to allow them to follow their more basic desire for dominance?
Power addiction, to start with, is always the wrong route to escape fear as the only way to understand love is to feel it, embody it, embrace it. The power of love will always be greater than any other, and the keys to reality will only ever be given to true students of the only master.
Batakrishna Roy Chowdhury, however, was a novice to this idea. To him love was all encompassing, it was exerting dominance on the beloved's heart, possessing her soul in every way possible. He wasn't the kind who would steer away with a brokenness, dwelling in separation, but instead, he'd fight for it... till the end!

They say if you love a person with all your heart, the kind of love that's true, then you shouldn't hold your beloved back, instead you should set them free, for true love always finds a way back.
But Batakrishna was hell-bent on opposing this idea. It perhaps wasn't the right approach, but to him it didn't feel wrong. He wanted Mira, he wanted to possess her heart, her soul, her body, and if there was any more of her, he'd want to have that too, and for that he was prepared to pay every price that there was!

Batakrishna had fasted that morning, bathed early, and was now standing infront of the mirror. He was preparing for the Ashirbaad ceremony that was to take place that day, but the preparation was more to dazzle the woman he loved.
He had brushed his hair neatly, backward, like his Dada, and wore a new white kurta, with cream khadi dhoti in semblance of a new groom.
He had sprayed an imported perfume too, generously, all over as the smile plastered to his lips broadened in satisfaction.
Batuk smiled at his reflection proudly, and sprayed another round of the perfume, clouding what was left of the room.

"Aa... Aacchoo!"
A soft sneeze made him turn around, and there she was, Bhargavi, rubbing her nose to beat this sudden overdose of essence inside his bedroom.

"Allergic huh?" Batuk asked her plainly, trying to ignore that fact that the mist he had spread inside would make many sane human dizzy. Bhargavi, however just shrugged, and it was then that Batuk noticed the pile of new sarees held in her arms.

"Tell me my dear Bhargavi, what can I do for you this morning!"
His overdramatic exaggeration of greeting made the girl smile, as she quickly walked inside the room and held his hand.

"Please don't marry this woman." She urged, and Batuk's forehead formed creases at once.

"But your Mira Didi has already rejected me."
Batuk looked away, folding the sleeves of his kurta upto his elbow.

"Then don't marry her too..." A prompt response escaped from Bhargavi's lips, and it made her lower her face in shame as well.
"I mean... Marry... But to someone who too would want to marry you."

"What do you mean?" Batuk frowned at her through the mirror and Bhargavi turned red under his gaze.

"Well, marry someone who loves you... Not the one you love." She murmured, and Batuk let out a chuckle.

"Isn't this too much for a girl who doesn't read romantic novels? He raised an eyebrow, and Bhargavi looked away.

"Well, if that's the case Bhargavi, then I'm afraid I'll stay a bachelor forever."
He had laughed out loud at his self inflicted humour and Bhargavi lowered her face further, keeping her gaze fixated at his feet.