Rakshash Aur Rajkumari (The Devil And The Princess)

26• स्वतंत्रता

It had been a day since Ambika's departure, yet Rudraksha found himself engulfed in an unfamiliar sensation—an overwhelming emptiness that he stubbornly refused to acknowledge.

Sitting in the desolate living room of their now-empty apartment, the curtains swaying gently in the breeze, he felt like a mere shell of himself. His once expressive face now seemed hollow, devoid of any trace of emotion. Bloodshot eyes betrayed the silent tears that flowed unchecked, each droplet a testament to the profound sense of loss that gripped him.

With a vacant stare and mouth slightly agape, he absentmindedly clutched a forgotten Charas, its faint glow casting eerie shadows in the dimly lit room. But even the smoke, which he often took to find solace and to get immediate cure of his extreme anger, offered no reprieve from the overwhelming emptiness that now consumed him.

(A/N: I obviously don't support smoking of any kind, Although this particular narcotic has health benefits but it can be only used in a specific quantity for curing health and absolutely not for addiction. Rudraksha over here is also not addicted to it, he smokes for immediate solace from his extreme anger which is also fictional and not humanly possible)

His mind became a theater, where memories of Ambika played out like scenes from a cherished film.

As Rudraksha recalled their banter, a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Why did you apologize?" Ambika's earnest question echoed in his mind, reminding him of her unwavering loyalty.

"Why would they stare at my husband?" Her defiance was as endearing as it was exasperating, he thought, recalling her stubbornness.

In that moment, laughter had been their only refuge, a shared joke amidst the chaos of emotions. Rudraksha's amusement filled the room, mingling with Ambika's laughter until it became an inseparable melody of their bond.

Her words, so simple yet profound, still resonated within him. "I don't care how rough and beastly you are," she had declared, her love a beacon in his darkest moments.

But now, as he reminisced, he couldn't help but scoff at her naivety, her unwavering belief in his redemption.

With a shake of his head, Rudraksha tried to dispel the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. Yet, despite his efforts, her image remained etched in his mind, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

Yet, even in his self-condemnation, her image remained vivid in his mind – her soft smile, innocent gaze, and unwavering affection. She was a beacon of light in his darkness, a reminder of the love he had lost.

Isn't that what he wanted? Then why does Rudraksha find himself trapped in a web of conflicting emotions? Ambika's departure should have brought him freedom, yet instead, it left him feeling adrift and alone.

He had yearned for release from the constraints of their marriage, craving the ability to roam the world as a detached soul. Now that she had granted him that freedom, he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of emptiness that consumed him.

Freedom was supposed to bring joy, peace, and a newfound sense of purpose. But for Rudraksha, it only brought a profound sense of loss and sorrow. Ambika's absence left a void in his life, a void he hadn't realized he would feel so keenly.

As he grappled with these conflicting emotions, Rudraksha couldn't help but wonder: if freedom was meant to be so liberating, why did it feel like a heavy burden weighing him down?

As he entered their bedroom, Rudraksha was enveloped in a bittersweet embrace of memories. He slumped down onto the bed, feeling the familiar softness of the pillow beneath him, the very one Ambika used to rest her head on. Inhaling deeply, he savored the lingering scent of rose and jasmine, a delicate fragrance that always lingered in her body.