~PLACID~

CHAPTER 9

As Arfia left Duha's room she spotted Asad standing behind the wall with his eyes glued in the direction of her room. Without his knowledge Arfia went and stood behind him.

"She has closed the door", her whisper made Asad jump.

"No Bhabhi. I was simply taking a break. It had been quite long that I was reading.", Asad fumbled.

"I see. But I also see something else.", Arfia teased him.

"As in what?", Asad was scared of being caught without any warning.

"That's for me to know and you to find", Arfia laughed.

Arfia's words were puzzling yet clear. Asad pulled his hair back and smiled at himself. He walked to his room and stood before the mirror in front of him. From time immemorial only his reflection was his best friend.

The glint in his eyes spoke volumes of his genuine feelings. The turbulence in his heart sequestered him from the realm of worldly pleasures. The harsh reality of unacceptable inter-religious alliances didn't bother him. For the time lapse his heart had gained the wings to fly. He wanted to soar high without falling down. Heights mesmerized him, depths did not.

Duha intrigued him, confused him. Her beauty captivated his soul. The three months made him creative yet less expressive. His emotions were contained in his diary just like hers. He loved that about her. He wanted to learn the art of expressing from her. His head bowed in front of those who were differently abled.

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The paintbrush in her hand worked furiously as the strokes formed a perspective of a temple. The temple was big, magnificent and divine. The garden in front of its entrance was pleasant. Her painting compensated for the lack of words. Visuals played an important role in life.

"It's beautiful", she turned around to a familiar voice.

Asad stood with his file behind her.

She looked at him amusingly.

"Well if you miss anything, I have an idea.", He beamed with joy.

With no clue, Duha followed him.

Asad walked ahead slowly and steadily. She tried to keep pace with him. They had reached the dead end of the alley. Afraid of a silly prank Duha stared at him in fury.

But before she could show him his place, he turned to his right. Duha looked on.

Before her was a small temple. Lord Shiva was very gracious to her. Miles away she found an ally in him again.

She entered the temple and to her surprise Asad followed her. She looked at him in amazement.

"Don't worry. I come here daily. Won't do anything stupid to embarrass you or your friend", he winked at her.

His words surprised her.

"This fellow seems to be a mind-reader.", Her mind raced.

Asad smirked at her confused expression.

They stood in front of the Shiva Linga praying to the almighty. Duha clasped her hands and shut her eyes in obligation.

Both, her friend and admirer stared at her.

"I wish her wish comes true", Asad's mind mumbled.

She opened her eyes to find him bowed down in reverence in front of the almighty.

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Asad recalled the day fondly as the same day assured him of what gave Duha solace.

On the other hand Duha was sitting with the sketch of the temple in her hand. She caressed the perfect symmetry of the shrine and the lush greenery of space in front.

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They walked together hand in hand. The steps were many, the sun was blazing hot, the wind didn't have any mercy but their determination was unchallenged. Their feet burned with every step but their love was a shadow that protected them.

They reached the top and stood in front of Shiva Linga. They joined their hands and bowed down in obeisance.

"I wish his wish is fulfilled", Duha's mind mumbled.

"Duha I know you will find it weird. This is not normal. But no one will allow us to marry each other. I could only devise this way out.", he said.

His words were a music to her ears. Her heart was obliged to follow his heartbeat. Their notes were in such a synchronization that even the Lord couldn't prevent the inevitable.

They took seven vows in the presence of a sole witness: their friend, their guide, their philosopher: Lord Shiva.

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She poured out her thoughts on the piece of paper. Every word of hers invited a tear drop that wetted the paper. The writing became blur and illegible. But her pen didn't stop so didn't her tears.

The household on the ground floor was busy with an expectedly unexpected visitor.

The ramblings were audible even on the first floor. Duha collected herself and wiped her tears to check out if everything was fine. She veiled her head with the black dupatta and walked down the stairs.

As she reached the entrance she saw everyone standing. Farhan, Asad and Arfia stood to attend someone. Someone was seated on the sofa probably clothed in white as the fabric made an appearance through the gaps the onlookers left. Duha stood in between Asad and Farhan.

The visitor made a lot of noise. It was pretty predictable that a lady had arrived.

"What has happened to you all?", began the lady. A typical phrase used by typical elders in typical households. After all only the elders had used up brains but the younger ones had unused brains. Science was at stake as the members of an Indian family were enough to put all the discoveries at shame. Einstein didn't exist for them as they believed their hair had turned grey because of massive use of their cerebral structures. The nerve connections were so perfect in every old man that even electricity could pass through them. Knowledge and digestive systems were synonymous for them. Stomach existed to digest words, thoughts and ideas. Food was extrinsic which was inferior to the gossips.

The solemn appearances of the three familiar faces of the family scared Duha.

The smoke from the kitchen made an unprecedented entry. Food was burnt. But no one cared as digesting facts, opinions and taunts was important. A strong smell of burnt chilli flakes affected so badly that Duha went on a sneezing spree.

She coughed, she sneezed. The cycle continues till she rubbed her teary eyes to find all of them stating at her.

A woman probably in her sixties sat in front. Her grey head was a visual proof of the number of rains, storms and cyclones it had seen. The white cloth veiled her head halfway. A woman who probably appreciated burqa more sat with her half open head. She had big eyes probably like those of a frog.  Thick rimmed glasses fitted best on her face. The nose pad of the spectacles was loose as the glasses fell down every now and then. The old lady had become a controlled toy whose hand at frequent intervals adjusted her spectacles.

The smoke reached the lady late. The next they had was a loud thunderous sneeze which made Arfia rush to the kitchen.

Arfia hurriedly pulled down the vessel from the gas burner.

"Seven years of marital bliss and nothing changed", the old lady continued to rant.

Farhan rolled his eyes only to be seen by his mother.

"So now you have something to say. Now don't tell me you want to be the knight in shining armour for your damsel in distress", the lady said with a grim face.

Asad folded his hands to his chest and was mere audience to the circus.

"You want anything?", the old lady shifted her gaze at Duha.

Asad, Farhan looked on.