Maybe that was the perfect moment to interfere. To say that Anirudh was intrigued by this little girl was an understatement. The innocence she held, the snarky remarks she made was like a gush of fresh air for him. Women in India as well as back in London were always critiqued for holding their opinion and speaking freely about their interests. The uncanny desire to ask questions was still, a luxury to women as it was considered unladylike.
An ideal women was considered to be a female who talked less, was submissive and held a distasteful sense of fulfilling desire to make everyone happy even at the cost of her own happiness or comfort.
But when this little girl was blooming the sense of rebelliousness he had. Anirudh saw a flash of himself in her. He wanted to listen to her talks more but sneaking up on any person was unethical, and he seemed to be doing it a lot lately.
He called out from outside the door, "is bade shorkaar's daughter here?"
The cursed little girl who was busy seeking questions to her answers did not pay any heed to the voice which was coming from outside. But the bride beside her nudged her to answer. "Yes I'm here." the girl yelled loudly.
"I've come to chaperone you back to your house miss. You should head back home." Anirudh said. It was true. It sure was getting pretty late and was almost afternoon. He also had to reach devipur before his mother's birthday.
"okayyyyy " the girl said happily. She was too delighted about the idea of seeing her deedun and her father. She started running outside the room and almost reached the entrance which was covered by the saree when she halted her steps. The four women who were silently watching the whole conversation from the corner of the room, now grabbed their poles which held the screen and wrapped it around the girl's body, making a room of cloth with no roof.
The bride then walked towards the entrance and carefully removed the saree. Anirudh watched the scene unfold. He still didn't understand the ruckus about the screen but he was adamant to know now. Enough of all the secrets he thought.
The women holding the screen instantly recognized Anirudh and backed down a few steps. Anirudh on the other hand turned to look at the bride. Laid in all gold she did truly look like a bride, moreover she looked like someone from an influential family.
"Let's go. I've to meet my deedun."The little girl whined. Anirudh's lips curled at her acts.
"thankyou again , miss." the bride joined her hands in gratitude.
"no worries. bye" the girl happily waved at the bride.
"let's go." anirudh said and walked a few steps when he realized that the girl was not following him.
"who are you? you're not manohar." the girl said suspiciously.
"yes , i'm not manohar. but i am not a stranger. I've come here to chaperone you back to your house." anirudh said.
"no. i don't know you. and i won't certainly believe any word you say. STRANGER DANGER." the girl was being wary of anirudh.
" i met you at the temple at night. remember? i saw your deedun today. she was worried about you. so i volunteered to bring you back. she was really worried." anirudh explained. he didn't knew why but he was happy that the girl did not believe him. she was aware of her surroundings and was dealing with the situation smartly.
"oh you're that angry man from the temple who accused me of being a thief and questioned me like an English officer?" the girl remembered him.
"yes", anirudh replied. he wanted to deliver her safely back to her house and go to devipur but her questions did not seem to end. " then apologize first."the girl huffed.
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THE CURSED BEAUTY
General FictionEarly 1800's India, traditional society with thousands of social evils all against women rights. But you don't need to bark loudly in order to make a point, strong voices does wonders . An upper-class man makes the youth realize the power of pen;...