The Blue Magician

• Questions •

"And then he lifted the govardhan with his tiny little finger of the left hand." 
 
It was past midnight, and Aarya had slept once again without completing the story. 
The month of Jeshtha meant that the sun would be rising sooner than usual and would stay up in the sky until very late in the evening.
During summer months like these, the passage of time magically slows down. We have a lot of time to spare, so we would stock up on all the "not right now" tasks of the entire year for this particular month. The childhood stories of Krishn were one such task.
 
After Kartik Month's celebrations, not a lot took place. Our king was out for three whole months solving the problems of nearby or faraway kingdoms. Meanwhile, his own kingdom was being looked after by his chief queen, Maharani Rukmini.

I personally admire Maharani for her good governance and extremely thoughtful decisions. She appeared calm in the toughest situations.
Somewhere deep down I wanted to be like her—confident, strong, generous—but this one thing—how can she be comfortable with co-wives? How did she never express her anger or even a frown when people talked about Krishn's childhood friend Radha? 

I am sure she would be angry every time she heard her name, and Maharani just knew the art of masking emotion. I am very sure that she would have disliked all her co-wives; she just knew the art of....or wait!

What if it's me who is masking the truth behind my own false assumptions.
 
Turning away from all these thoughts, I looked at Aarya.
We have been together for quite a while now, and we have been living a peaceful life so far. Except for his uncanny likeliness for the king, I love everything about him.

As a child, I used to look at the wedding processions of the elder girls of our village and think that I would arrange a Swayamwar for myself.
I imagined a prince coming all the way from Kanchipuram just to make me his queen. As I grew up, I realized that my dreams were a mismatch with my reality.

But Narayan had been kind enough, for he, although he did not tie my destiny with a prince from Kanchipuram, sent a common man with a heart as wide as the mighty Saraswati and as pure as the Ganga. My prince did come, but in a bullock cart. 

I giggled at my own imagination and theories. 
Just then, something struck my mind—were all these my false assumptions too? Will my husband, like his beloved king, marry more than once? Most importantly, will I be able to accept my co-wives as wholeheartedly as my beloved queen?
 
I suddenly wanted to ask all these questions and wanted immediate answers. But it was already midnight. Questions can wait; the early sunrises of Jyeshtha Month cannot. 
 
"Did I complete the story last night?"

"Of course not! The day you complete a story in one go, I will offer three matkis of butter to your Krishn, I promise." 

"Bribery is a crime in our kingdom." 

"And what would be the charge for this crime?"
 
Aarya held my hand and stared right into my eyes. For a moment, he became a stranger, but his eyes looked familiar. a stranger with a familiar stare. I had felt this before.
But then he spoke or almost whispered,

"You are charged with lifelong imprisonment in my heart."

I came back to my senses. He was not a stranger; he is my man, and I am his woman. 
All these months, he had never spoken this openly about our love, and I had never felt this transparent with my emotions. Had he heard my thoughts last night? Did I actually speak them out in front of him, and he heard them? 
I searched for answers in his eyes but found none. Like an innocent child, I ran away from the courtyard. He stood fixedly in place and left with a smile. 
 
He had not heard my thoughts. As I go back in time now, I realize that even if he had heard, he had already given the perfect answer—his love.