Kama: Liberation (Vol-I)

Chapter 35: A Mother, A Father and A Queen

Blessed is the son who has two mothers– one who gives him birth and one who looks after him.

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"A graha, when debilitated, signifies that the native, in a past life, was too proud of the manifestations in relation to it, and as a result gets the graha now in a sign which is strictly out of its comfort zone."

Immersing himself in the study of astrology, the Rajan of Aryavarta expanded his field of knowledge. At night, in solitude of a balcony, he learnt and revised what he had taught himself over the years.

"Pride is a virtue and a vice. When in control of the native, it's a weapon wielded well, and when it becomes the master, dangers draw upon the soul," he read aloud. The corners of his lips raised up, flowering into a mocking scoff. "I am not sure if I am better off now or was I happier before."

As Pasha(a nickname people rarely used for him now), he used to frown upon the luxuries offered by life– women and wealth alike. He considered himself the master of a stringent lifestyle, staying away from indulgence. Now, when people knew him by the title of Rudra more than his nickname Pasha, he didn't feel proud of leading a solitary life. The bursting feelings of passion also made him shameful. He liked to be proud and boastful, but in the core of his heart, he knew it was just a mechanism to protect himself. The bitter barrier he had build defended his soul from enduring further damage. Inside, he was torn apart. A little more strain could completely madden him.

There was a before and after in his life. Before Petra used to exist in his love story, and after that. In between him being Pasha and the werewolf Rajan, he was Rudra, the lover of Petra Mansi, the lovely princess of Gandhar. The daughter of the great Amba herself, she could always boast of being born of a woman elevated to godhood, but she found peace in humility. She was a ray of sunshine in the dreary winter, prancing around lifeless seeds to see if they ever decided to sprout.

The seed of love inside Rudra did. He was bewitched. How beautiful were those days, and how greatly he missed her. Heaving a sigh, he continued reading the book. "A graha when too close to the sun is called combust. It signifies that the person had mastered the qualifications of that graha in a past life. So close is it to perfection that now it sits next to the king. The price to pay– burning eternally."

Rudra's gaze was fixed upon those two words– burning eternally. Heartbeats accelerated, he felt hotter than usual and began sweating, drops of perspiration falling on the pages. He rocked back and forth, shrinking away in his might. At last, he threw away the book and looked outside the window, teetering between the winds and the ground beneath his feet. He allowed the freshness of the night air to fan his claustrophobic self.

Looking sideways, he saw a torch kept on the wall.

"How does fire feel like?"

Petra had burnt alive, along with their child. "It must have been painful."

I want to feel it. Perhaps then, I will be closer to her.

Rudra pulled out the torch and brought it close to his face. His hand shivered and he jerked back when the flames wiped his face. It was burning hot, truly. Maybe bringing it suddenly so close was a bad idea, so Rudra decided on a clever course– he set his cloak on fire, watching it eat away the fabric and travel up to his body.

It crawled up steadily, clothes turning to ashes. The heat became disturbing, but he wanted to go along with it. If Petra went through it, he had to experience it too.

He closed his eyes and clenched his fist.

Though, his content didn't last long.

Someone had thrown their uttariya over the flames, damping the fire by tapping their hands over it. Rudra was stunned by the unexpected change and joined in dying out the fire. When sanity kicked in, he looked up to see a horrified Indumala trying to save him.