AryLie : THE GIFT OF TIME

1: War of Words A) Imlie's Anguish

"Words... have Power."

Not many days back, He had said those words that had swam in her head since then.

Then, it was a reminder of the power that Her Profession held. Nay, her capabilities and how She put them to use held. Those 3 Words had stunned her to silence with the numbing weight of the piercing pain in them that he had lived through for 4 long years, and with the awe-inducing, overwhelming weight of the impact that Her and her colleagues could render on innumerous lives.

But now, those words - His words - induced nothing but rage in Her. Rage at Him.

Why is it that He himself forgot that very statement ? How conveniently hypocritical !

All Imlie had done Her Life was give out explanations. That had grown into a habit of over-talking. Imlie loved to talk.

Not that People always listened. They listened at their convenience and interpreted it in new meanings.

Meanings which She had never imagined before.

And then entered Aryan Singh Rathore.

Into Her Life, knocking her over, in his swanky black Mrs.Lambigaadi.

He Listened to Her.

Just like Her Dadda.
Just like Her Amma.

He Listened to Her crazy whims and fantasies and ideas.

He Listened to Her Words.

And Her Silence.

He indulged them, and even encouraged them.

He had declared to Her Half-Sister that Time is Money, and His Time was worth Billions.

Yet, He had made the time to partner with Her in Her antics.

Imlie carefully turned Her face and snuggled in foetal position in Her Bed, craving Her Amma's warmth at the moment. Her Amma, who was outside, playing Holi with everyone else.

Yet, Never ever had She so stubbornly held onto privacy as She was doing right now.

Imlie caressed her left cheek, feeling the powdery red colour He had smeared on Her.

A fluttery feeling had become prominent in the pits of her stomach ever since that.

She couldn't realise why her cheeks were heated up so much such that even if She washed the colour off, her cheeks would still remain red.

But that She could not find the heart to wash it off, was a surprise.

Imlie closed her eyes, tears gently streaming down her eyes, feeling her mouth involuntarily curve into a smile.

One that had been recurring since the moment She was walking away from Him, bearing the colours.

(AUTHOR'S NOTE : Yes, the smile was faint, but it was there in the Heer-Ranjha song sequence, and that littlest smile was the biggest giveaway of Imlie's feelings.)

What were these ?

Was She allowed to feel all these ? Again ?

Was this Love ?

But She had Loved once - but was that Love when compared to this ?

If this was Love, then She did Not want to lose this !

But .... Had not She already lost here, as well ?

She had feared losing Him on the day He had been admitted to the Hospital. This was one Person whose Life She had stubbornly demanded for from amidst the burning flames, to the Goddess.

Then, She had Not felt the heat from the flames then, for the heat of Her rage at having Him on the threshold of Life and Death flowed through Her Dance, and was enough to subdue the heat of the Fire surrounding Her.

Strangled sobs tore through Imlie as She relived the anguish.

All Her Life ..... She had gone to the world's end for People She had held dear only to be cast aside at the end - except for Her Amma and Dadda.

Every. Single. Time.

The World had forced a Marriage on Her.

She had fought for it, since the beginning.

Yet, She had lost.

Ever since Day 1, She had lost there.

But here .....

Hey Sita Maiyya, would it be too much of an ask if She did Not want to lose this time ?

Would it be too much of an ask if for once, Her Marriage would be out of Friendship, Companionship atleast ?

Love ?

Was She deserving of His Love ?

Was She capable enough to Love Him back ?

Was She already in Love ?

All that She wanted was a word from Him that this meant atleast a teeny tiny bit more than revenge to Him.

He had no qualms in giving out every 3rd Sentence as credit, yet, he was stubbornly choosing to withhold this one sentence.

Ughhhh !!!!!!!!!
Patthar Singh Rathore !!!!!!!!!

Imlie screamed into Her pillow and hit it, furious tears mercilessly cut tracks through her cheeks, and stung her eyes, blending with the beautiful red colour smeared on her cheeks.

The way He transferred the Colour.... Everything seemed to stop there.

Imlie was stuck there.

She recalled the light sting of His bearded cheek, transforming her indignation to a wondrous bliss, as if She was safe there.

She could still feel that light graze, and it was not the powdery red colour, but the way He transferred it that was still lending her the blush.

She felt scared.

Aryan Singh Rathore held immense power over Her. He held the power to affect Her in the deepest of ways.

And this realisation was scary, atleast for now.

Did She hold the same power over Him ?

Hey Sita Maiyya, please let this feeling of being secure be a Truth ! Getting Hurt again was Not an Option !
Not Again !

Imlie felt as if She was drowning in the mammoth waves of emotions that were crashing upon Her ; there seemed to be no shore in sight.

So Tiring !

For Young Women her age, some where toiling away as a slave to the society, like Her friends in Pagdandiya. Others were living a carefree life, working for their future.

And here She was, stuck on a limbo ! Why all this, at a mere 20 Years of Age !

Imlie screamed and hit the pillow harder.

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