अन्तः अस्ति प्रारंभः।
The end is the beginning.
A caterpillar dies, to birth a butterfly. Water evaporates to rain down. Dead carcasses fill the stomachs of vultures.Life gives way to death and death to life. In a vicious circle of different karmas...
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"Navratri is coming soon," Saini squealed, flopping down on the floor beside Mihira. Mihira chuckled at her as she put aside their newly bought jewellery and nodded.
Saini had all but dragged Mihira to the market after their jobs. Eklavya had been dismissed to go and buy himself and his father something nice, because everyone knew that while Eklavya had great knowledge of the authenticity of fabrics due to his time as a spy, he was also a horrible company while shopping.
He would get tired within an hour and he would then groan and whine and reject everything they saw next just so he could go home and sleep. His laziness was well known to all of them, even Virat, who, was an excited boy but couldn't come with them due to his 'terrifying' appearance.
Mihira sighed and slid back, resting her back against the wall.
"What has happened to you, Mihira?" Saini asked, leaning up and resting her head on her palm. "You've been awfully quiet, other than threatening mild violence in regards to that shoe maker dude and that tailor and that- oh, well. You've been quiet other than threats, is what I mean. Which, it's normal for you, but I thought you were getting better with social company?"
Mihira drew her knees closer to her chest and rested her forehead on her knees. "I have a problem."
"We have established that." Saini said, getting up and sitting straight. "What's the problem, my friend? I am sure we can solve it."
Something in Mihira shuddered. She didn't know what to say. What was she supposed to say? That she was terrified of the beast taking shape under her chest? That it was growling against its chains and it was demanding that she act on her wants? That she was terrified that the semblance of normalcy that she achieved just recently would be ruined if she decided to act on her wants?
And what would even she do? Tell the prince she wanted him to herself for the rest of their lives? A prince.
Mihira was a displaced woman, woman out of time. Blood under her nails and ruined sinew and broken bones had been all she knew before she stepped into this world. And now, blood had dried and sinew had scarred and bones had mended. Added were large bite marks on her furniture, a shawl embroidered with her name, her bangles and anklets echoing in a house she owned. Added were friends who were concerned about her.
Added were gods who encouraged her to love. Added was a man she wanted, a man she could never have.
Mihira was a woman of shadows. Wanting a man of gold, a man who was famous, was a dangerous want. Impossible. While she was used to snatching away what she deemed necessary, this particular naive dream seemed like it was made of clouds and sighs of her last innocence.
Mihira sighed to herself, again.
"Mihira," Saini said, soft and cradling,"if you do not tell me what is wrong, I cannot fix it."
