Kama: Liberation(Vol-II)

Chapter 1: A New Day

Sati has returned.

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Sands had stolen stardust from fallen comets, and when the light of the moon fell on the dunes, they shimmered, remembering their cosmic origin. Coarse particles rubbed against milk-soft arms. Mirrors stitched into woolly shawls. A cool night breeze, swaying towering trees. And a palanquin. Inside, she herself.

The canvas of dream vanished. Left behind in a haze, Indumala fluttered her eyes open. The first thing she saw were blobs of light and the first sound she heard were of the buzzing grasshoppers. Then she tasted the wind. It was soothing like the one of Gandharian nights. Things took solid shapes and colours filled her vision.

She was awake.

Indumala didn't remember how long it has been. Her limbs were heavy and stiff. She slowly lifted them up, feeling the numbness in bony fingers. Those quivered from exhaustion. Her arm dropped, reluctant to do any physical activity. Indumala struggled to sit up, putting the pressure of her whole body on elbows. Her spine tickled with pain, nose scrunching in agony.

Looking around, she found Rudra sleeping beside, his hand resting on her lap. It must have been days, for there was a rough stubble on his cheeks. He looked older, maybe a very matured Rajan. His lips were parted and he snored ever so lightly. Indumala traced his face. Deep in slumber, he didn't move.

Such an ancient chiselled face, a god's statue. The deities most definitely worked hard for a thousand human years just to perfect this enigma. He was equally devastating and sensitive to look at. Indumala ran her fingers over his thick straight brows. It would have lulled him to sleep, although Indumala was the one yawning now, Rudra being already in the land of magic.

She remembered. He was way younger, more than two decades ago. Then, the people had warned her of his nasty tendencies- he used to kill mercilessly, drench his hands in blood. He was particularly irritated by giggling laughter and caging anklets.

"What will they tell me now, Rudra, that you have become a literal monster?"

There was no way to unlove. Indumala didn't want to either. Despite his frightening exterior, Rudra had always been respectful of her boundaries. When she was afraid of being forced, like how many army men did to their newly wedded wives, the Senapati had shown himself to be the epitome of dharma. To him consummation wasn't important, neither a societal marriage. He had seen his foster father be friends with a woman he never slept with. So, Rudra would walk the same path.

Rudra exhaled in his sleep. Was he dreaming? Indumala smiled. Must be a nice one, his face looks so serene. She could do it all day- admire him, worship him, be called a blind fool falling for a beast. His connotations never changed. The people found ways to perturb him eternally.

Memories clinked and tempted her to delve deeper. Such an inviting abyss of madness. The door to the past was flung open. Testaments of time barged in, circling Indumala like helpless phantoms. One by one, she had to heal each wound. Not just of herself, but of others too.

Suddenly, she felt unlike a seventeen year old girl. Her body though young, her spirit aged like the earth.

She got up from the bed. Faint blue light came inside the tent. Moving the partition, she stepped outside. It was dawn. The sky was clear azure, calm and its tone quietened. The birds weren't out of sleep, not singing yet. From the casket of the mountains that lined Revat came the baby dwarf. The red dot rising grew with passing time. Indumala could feel its warmth shelter the freezing arms. The morning breeze was cruel, but the sun had pity on her. Spreading its light dipped in sindur, the luminary announced the coming of another day.