Trishalini ~ The Jewel of Mahabaleshgarh

5 ~ Watching Her Take Bath

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Trisha POV

My body was still carrying his scent. The conversation we had on our way home, filled with unspoken words and lingering glances, was still imprisoning my thoughts. My soul felt trapped, as if invisible iron bars had been erected around it, preventing it from escaping and forcing me to dwell on anything but him.

The idea of being a wife, of having a family and children, was a foreign concept that had never dared to cross my mind. Yet, now, it seemed to have taken root within me. But I knew, deep down, that this was not my path. As my father had always insisted, I was destined for something more significant. I was meant to become a sage, not a wife.

Urghh.

His fragrance was distracting. I had changed clothes, but it was still there, as if he had left an impact on me.

And, unknowingly due to all of these, the roots were becoming stronger.

I was alone in the house, and he was sleeping with my father in the Ashram. Yet, his presence seemed to permeate the air, a constant reminder of his presence within the territory. I could not shake the thought that he had been where I slept and had changed his clothes here.

Did he notice that I sleep here?

Maybe not. Why would he notice that?

I inhaled deeply, rolling the end of a small partition of my hair.

My body was shifting and tossing on my mattress and I could not let go of his thoughts until midnight. The sleep was blurry and difficult. It felt as if the rain had brought a storm into my life.

I left even before my wake-up time and tied my open hair in a tight bun. Covering my head with the dupatta, I walked out of the hut.

It had stopped raining.

I sat on the stairs for a while, silently watching the dark sky, letting the Sun's rays penetrate it. The stars still spread all over. There was not a single cloud. Maybe they found a new place to let go of their pain.

A tiny smile appeared on my lips with a thought. That was the life. No matter how hard it gets, you still have to keep going.

Closing my eyes, I prayed silently and began my daily chores.

After washing my face, feet, and hands, I cleaned the utensils I used to milk the buffalos. As I stepped inside the shed, I began humming my favourite song. The sleeping beauties woke up and started standing on their feet.

"Good morning," I muttered, caressing the newborn baby of one of them. The buffalos were eight in total.

"Come on, let's go outside," I said, untying each of them individually and bringing them outside so they could spend some time in fresh air and enjoy the sunrise.

After that, I began washing their udders and feet before milking them one by one.

Collecting their milk, I placed the big pots aside and began mixing their roughage. After feeding them, the milk buyers arrived, and I sold the extra milk.

It was still not morning yet.

After finishing that first thing in the morning, I went to Ashram to collect the laundry clothes of the little children there. There, my sight fell on the open door of the guestroom. I could not stop myself from walking in, and my gaze saw him sleeping soundly.

The wet clothes he took off last night were kept beside his bedding arrangement. I walked silently to take them, too.

Pitaji was not there. He must be out for the long walk in the morning.