Kama: Liberation (Vol-I)

Chapter 8: Comrade

A bitterness-born bond of shaken beliefs.

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Rudra paced across the room. Tension had worn out and anger subsided. Decomposed remains of questions were left inside the mind.

"You had called me."

Rudra turned to the door and greeted Aryamna with a tired smile. "Come inside. Close the door."

The groom looked extremely distressed with ruffled hair and puffiness under the eyes. Rudra rebuked himself for taking the rash decision of summoning him. He had almost forgotten it was Aryamna's wedding night.

"She was drunk?" Aryamna was fuming, the quick short breaths and watery eyes giving away his displeasure.

"She was. But-"

"Punish her."

Rudra pulled Aryamna by his hand and made him sit on a chair. "I will. But I suppose I have questions for you."

Aryamna gave a quizzical look. "You mean?"

Rudra faked a smile. The sun was warm and bright, the birds chirping- a perfect morning in Aryavarta. He assured himself it all was happy. He wanted to assure himself. He was still glowing like the sun, and she accompanied him in his daily endeavors. "You have told Indu about her?" Rudra's face was laden with a sorrow satirical of his reputation. It revolted against his every concupiscent story, putting to dust his every streak of lust.

Aryamna frowned. "No, never!" He held onto the chair, eyes widened. "Why?"

Rudra chuckled. Lips trembled, eyes turning red and face crimsoning. Veins on his forehead pulsated with an old fear. "You know many people tell this palace has a haunted room."

Aryamna couldn't bear the vulnerable tears of the Rajan. He got up and cupped Rudra's face. "I don't believe. That's the most sacred room ever, an ancient treasure."

Rudra embraced Aryamna, resting his head below his chest. Aryamna tried hard to calm him down but Rudra continued to sob.

"What did Indu say?" the Senapati asked.

"Tell me, Aryamna, is my beloved really not liberated?"

Aryamna grimaced. He could see the losses of the past dilute the courage of the Rajan. The camphor-fair face had ruddied in pain as a gush of blood pumped underneath the skin.

"Is she not happy?"

"Rudra," Aryamna steadied the Rajan, "you know better than me. You know how beautiful death is to some people. Apart from that, I have no answer."

"Cruel, cruel of you!" Rudra clutched his hair and slumped back. The world had come crushing down on his head.
He could hear her giggling laughter, the chime of her anklets, imagine her red-dyed feet. "I will never forgive them and never forget," Rudra trumpeted, balling his fist. "I will take my revenge and get back to every wicked demon in my own way. After all," he smirked, "poison kills posion."
Rudra hysterically laughed.

Aryamna bit the insides of his cheeks, punching the pillar that stood in front of him. "Rudra, don't let your past be an excuse for your present."

Souls changed colours.

"Don't tell me what to do," Rudra got up, pointing his quivering finger at the Senapati. "Gods and everything too good always get on my nerves. At least let me vent!"

"And let people beyond the four walls hear what weakens the Rajan?"

The indignant darkness of Rudra's ebony eyes deepened. Aryamna took a step back but he pulled the Senapati by his uttariya. "Petra makes me weak. And Petra gives me the will to live. For her, I will go as far as the other end of the world."