One Thousand and One Nights (It so happened...)

Five elements for a bitter drink

You're the wound and you're the medicine too...

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   Dilruba dressed in a silk embroidered skirt and blouse, her duppatta was embroidered with mirror work that caught the sunlight and played with the shadows. She finished her hearty breakfast and waited.

    The afternoon sun blazed as the city beyond the palace grew quiet, taking respite. And lamps tinkered as dusk soon shied away into night. Dilruba waited.

        Dilruba never knew waiting was exhausting. She stretched her hand and laid her head on the window sill, the cool breeze caressing her face. Sleep danced in her eyes as she nodded off.

        The door opened and she knew it was him. She forced her eyes to pry open and look at him. It seemed like the first night, he entered her room.

    His eyes were calm yet chaotic. He stumbled in and plopped on the diwan. Dilruba watched him grunt and squeeze his eyes shut. He gripped his forehead.

         "What's wrong?" She sat on the floor.

        "Nothing." He slurred. He wasn't sober, Dilruba realised. She needed him sober so that she could tell him the truth.

 
        She watched him sit, his broad chest rising and falling as he had his eyes closed. "Do you like coffee?" He asked with his eyes closed.

       "No. What is likable about the bitter drink?" She smiled. His lips curved a bit at the edge, Dilruba observed him. She would be free after this night. She wouldn't be able to see him. Her rogue heart pricked.

     The mad king opened his eyes lazily and leaned his elbows on his knees, pushing his face closer to her. "Sherezaade, fancy a bitter drink?"

      His scent enveloped her, his natural scent with coffee and of sand. She nodded and he leaned stood up towering over her. She watched him light the firewood and stroke it.

     He filled the cezve with water and coffee beans. He put the cezve over the sand and burrowed it deep in the sand.

     She had served countless cups of coffee to her clients but it was the first instance someone serving her. His hair fell over his eyes as he watched the cezve.

     "What are you thinking?" His head snapped to her and he smiled at her. Inadvertently, Dilruba smiled too. He looked silly and boyish when he was drunk.

        "I like drinking coffee. It is bitter and sweet. It requires five elements to become worthy of drinking." He held the handle and swiped the cezve across the sand. "Earth, fire, water, metal and wood."

         The coffee foamed up as he spooned it in two cups. He then buried it in sand again and after a few seconds, he poured the dark liquid into the cups.

  "Let me guess, two?" He peeked at her through his lashes.

     She said yes as he dumped two lumps of sugar into one cup. He picked up the cup and offered it to her. She grabbed the cup greedily. She was a street urchin before she was a whore, she remembered thousands of people throwing a piece of stale bread to her.

     He took his cup and leaned back sipping it. The smell of coffee wafted through the room. Dilruba sipped it and found that it was perfect.

     "I need to tell you something." She broke the long silence they shared while sipping their respective coffees. He looked at her with his eyebrow raised.