The Tale of SAHABABAD

Three

Chapter three

The night had ended, bidding an enthralling farewell to the king of the night sky as it welcomed the emperor of the day in all its glory which had arisen to be in the shade of faded crimson with a tinge of yellow over the circumference and was inching above the horizon of the Persian Gulf, replacing the white ball that was ruling over the night with its unmatchable brightness a few moments ago, providing solace to a shattered soul and awaking the birds, animals and early risers with its muzzy rays washed over the surface as it broke into new dawn indicating the inception of a new day and maybe...a new life.

The broken soul for the human that she, or so she felt, was on the fifteenth floor of the eighteen-storey tall palace in the arms of the man her soul had started loathing even more. Or was it her heart? He was asleep soundly with an arm snaked around her lower waist resembling a huge python wrapped around the trunk of a sandal tree while his palm, that felt a size bigger than it was, rested cautiously on her inner thighs, almost touching her womanhood.

Her eyes were scarlet with all the crying, begging and pleading of the day before while her heart was terrified. The medicine hadn't washed out of her system completely yet and she could still feel it kicking into her senses, here and there as she felt dizziness and black spots appearing in her vision, rather frequently.

A gush of warm breeze from the desert shushed past the window disturbing the still satin curtains in the motion and washed over her exposed body, touching her with a sense of apathy as though an uninvited intruder had sneaked in invading through the privacy and determined to reveal the hidden secret to the world. Yodhya wanted to cry out, or so she felt like but the dried eyes denied shedding any more tears, as after the rigorous labour it had, at last, announced the treason.

She was lifeless, unable to withstand the hard blow of her destiny where a part of her was wiggling within, fighting to break free and run to get a better life than being a toy of a royal prince while there was another one which was beeping an indication about something she was obliged to discover.

Horrified as she was, Yodhya averted her eyes from the sky onto the wall to her right where an aesthetic picture of Medina, the divine pilgrimage site of Islam, hung proudly covering half of the total space. It was, no doubt, beautiful and captivating—cherishing the soul of the viewer with its divine essence and just for a nanosecond, Yodhya had felt peaceful.

The peace was similar to the one she used to feel while worshipping the Lord Ganesha back at home.

He is one! She thought as a pleasant splash of the enthusiastic memories she had spent during the Poojan with her family collided down the memory lane.  She recalled the pleasant time of her life with her loved once, the mouth-watering aroma of laddoos that her mother used to cook, the small bickering with her brother over the food and the playful singing with her seven years old nephew during the Aarti. It all felt a distant memory, the thought soured her mouth and — although reluctantly, she had to avert her gaze further, pushing past the reservoir of overwhelming emotions.

'Your influences in the world mirror the glory, nobility, vitality and luminosity you have accessed in yourself.' It read the quote was engraved over the surface of a wooden plank cut of the size of an antique frame that hung down the creamy wall. She remembered the quote from a famous book, published not a year or two ago that she had read it in the library of her college and had perceived it to be very helping.

Yodhya shook her head to clear the remembrance. Everything was there in the room was reminding her of her land where she belonged.

The texts were golden and were curved beautifully but it never created the sensation similar to the one it had on the previous time, for the time being, nothing in the world was making any sense for her. Her life was a mess so was she?

She was naked and so was her companion in the bed who had touched every inch of her body on the previous night, enjoying her curves and feeling her softness. She couldn't believe she had let him rub his body against her for the night and did not attempt to break free.

How can you lose control of your life like this? You should have slapped him for touching you, for snatching away your dignity. Stupid woman, why in the hell did you never react? Have you lost your brain, you dumbly-doe?

She had. The lack of sleep was taking a toll on her health and that she had lost her abilities to think rationally. Her cunning brain had become an official traitor as the thoughts were scattered all over the floor along with her dirty clothes, not to mention the exhaustive exercise of the night had added further to the fatigue.

Iblis hadn't allowed her to close her eyes even for a minute till the clock had struck a quarter to four—all the while, he was holding intense eye contact with her as though keen upon hypnotising her, stealing her sanity away—penetrating through her universe as he simultaneously penetrated through her body. He was trying to read her, much to her dismay she had proved herself to be as defenceless as a nascent is by giving in.

She neither resisted nor denied his advances, she was exhausted and was in no mood to combat, and even a futile attempt to refrain him had left her brain when his dark passionate eyes had met hers.

There was certain craziness in his eyes that had left her soul shuddering to imprint an insatiable mark on it. He looked insane, almost unquenchable when he had touched her as if possessed by some form of eternal energy. There was a hint of aggression, possession and obsession in his every gesture, in each touch. Seemingly, he was trying to convey a message...a secret through the physical contact that she couldn't comprehend. And so the night had passed by with her losing her dignity, virginity and sanity feeling somewhat hurt and ashamed.

Yodhya didn't know what had happened thereafter, how it had happened or what was going to happen? Her brain had stopped functioning and for the sake of the almighty, she could feel absolutely nothing than a few of her body parts stinging for being both garbed and fondled harshly or for experiencing the foreign sensation it had left afterwards. Her body was covered with red marks; his long fingers had left afterwards. The marks weren't only imprinted on her body but were plastered at her soul too.

She had never felt anything like that before. He was bare and passionate, perhaps a virgin too, she couldn't calculate even if he was. His eyes were curious as though he had seen woman anatomy for the first time in his life and was keen upon discovering as much stealth as he could, but he was careful. She had felt it when he was breaking into her that he was trying to be gentle, if not, or so he pretended nonetheless it had hurt and she had smelled the odour of iron in the blood, not to forget the moisture that had followed after.

Yodhya couldn't gather the courage to recall what had happened thereafter.

How can you let it happen? Why did you not stop him? It's your entire fault. You can't blame him, you w***e when you haven't even tried to abjure him. He didn't r**e because you never resisted. Such a shame! She cursed herself, figuring out the occurrence of the events of the fortnight, mentally; or so she tried but groaned in annoyance when nothing in her brain formulated a theory.

‘When nothing makes sense, let go of everything and have faith in your creator. Pass all your aches and sorrows in his hands and let him lead the path and trust me, you will find yourself in the place you couldn't even dream of. It's the law of the universe that has been ruling the lives.’ The mere whisper in a raspy voice laced with thick Arabian accent near her ear had made a surprising gasp slip out her mouth as she sat upright on the bed putting her hand on her chest listening to the beats of her heart reaching to the ears.

Yodhya was panting heavily; expression resembling a thief caught red-handed stealing a precious stone. She stared at his face in the dim light of the room and a few rays of the rising sun that had peeped through the window right behind her, somewhat bewildered.

‘Relax! It is just your husband admiring his wife’s beauty.’ Iblis smiled a toothy-sleepy grin. ‘It’s beautiful. Isn’t it?’ He questioned tilting his head towards the rising sun as he inhaled a deep breath. ‘You can see Burj Khalifa from the balcony, the place where we first met. The few is clear. Why don’t you try it?’ He cooed trailing his fingers up and down on her arms in a circular motion.

'When... When did you wake up?' Yodhya couldn’t help herself from asking still breathing heavily. Her heartbeat had denied calming down and picking up a normal pace.

'When you were busy admiring Sarkar-e-Medina so lovingly. Did you find it soothing too? It is our ancestral picture, passed through generations to the crown prince. Her Majesty told me that it was the first live painting of its time and was painted on the pious land of Medina by one of the royal counsellors.' Iblis boasted, sitting beside her. His arm lingered over her inner thighs, drawing circles as he stared at the picture with admiration in his eyes.

The opaque curtain around the bed was blurring the vision, nevertheless, the beauty couldn't be denied. There were a few moments of silence lingered in the air as neither of them said anything—apart from staring at the picture astonishingly when he broke.

'When you surrender your soul to the Almighty your soul canonizes another level of intimacy that you leisure with Him. It is something divine.' He mumbled in daze and Yodhya could not agree less especially when she had felt the intimacy herself.

The loud call of Azan, a call for early prayer had echoed in the distance snapping the couple back on the planet as almost immediately the strong arm around her bare waist tightened, letting a whimper escape out of her then dry lips. The bracelet around his wrist was digging into her soft flesh, trailing down a scratch down her thighs and then to her womanhood.

Yodhya was sore; her insides were burning to remind her tormenting tale of the night and kicking her in a world of miseries. She didn't wish to see his triumphant face over the victory for vanquishing her, and so she averted her eyes and pretended to be in deep thoughts while her senses stood alert, capturing every movement in the surroundings.

'I know you aren't thinking anything, Zawjah. Don't pretend and don’t try to avoid me. I am your husband, lawfully wedded. Your acceptance or denial of the fact is irrelevant now when you have accepted me in front of Allah. It's better if you accept the command of the universe as well, after all, it's the only thing that has brought us closer—you can't deny it.' Iblis whispered as he peppered small kisses on her neck and shoulder, making her shudder as he bit on her soft spot, seemingly he had discovered the unknown trends of her body before she could. The thought made her crimson and she squirmed in embarrassment.

'If you don't wanna talk I won't compel you. It's your choice to open up. Take your time! Get used to the surroundings, the palace, our customs, and your royal grace and…I. Yodhya, I want you to know that I…I love you.’ The words had accelerated her heartbeat whereas Iblis’s heart wasn’t any better either.

‘You must know, Yodhya, that your husband is crazy over you. You are my obsession, my desire and my destiny. My Junoon, as they say in Urdu. HA! I am so proud that I know twenty languages, including your mother tongue Hindi. It wasn’t a child’s game to learn them. You should love me more for the fact, you see.’ Iblis rambled on unable to collect his thoughts. It wasn’t very often he dropped his walls down in front of someone but his feelings for her were making him do all the weird things.

Silence hung in the air when Iblis stopped speaking. He had paused for a few minutes to regain his composure as he glanced at the rising sun. The hand on her thigh had inched above stroking to her womanhood, drawing circle and similar to the last night; she made no move to stop him.

‘You are my madness and I will go to any extent to have you. Even it means killing a family in India.’ He whispered when he had got a hold on his brain, searching for her eyes which were shot back at his statement.

‘I am serious. Don’t try something like the previous time. Your absence makes me insane. I won’t hesitate in doing so whatever I have claimed and if you think my threats are empty one. Then recall the moment you were boarded into the ship. If I can bring you here then I can take some from there as well.’ His eyes were dark. His other hand grasped her palm softly and he brought it closed to his lips, peppering small kiss.

‘Respect me for what I am—a mafia, Prince, Dictator…Devil, Satan or whatever you think of me but consider me as your husband. Brace your brain with a thought of future, our future. Take your time but never forget who I am and what I can be.’ His fingers down there had picked up a steady pace while he kissed her neck hungrily. His other hand clutched her palm in a rigid grip as he panted hard on her neck biting her at a few places. ‘You make me lose my sanity! I am going crazy for you, Yodhya. I will be polite, give you space but it doesn't mean I would refrain any of my husbandly right upon you. You are mine and I will make sure to remind you about it every second so long your heart accepts me without any reluctance. I know, I may sound like a retarded person, but you have left me with no choice.' He almost groaned annoyed with the lack of response whereas he was losing his mind. He had left her neck and was staring at her face hungrily. Lust was floating in the orbs.

‘Today, we will commence our life as their majesty. The people of our realm would look upon us. We are their saviour and I am adamant upon setting an example—this is one of the many reasons you are alive, my wife.' He paused and squeezed her thighs. Yodhya could no longer abjure the yelp begging to slip out of her mouth. His words had shocked her and the dark fear of the moment before had crawled back again. ‘You better accept me!’ He demanded to move his hand upwards towards her breasts. He trailed his finger on them adoringly, satisfied with the sound of her short breaths when she was gasping for breath.

'I am going to thank Allah for everything.’ Iblis exclaimed out of nowhere and left her. ‘You can join me or stay here.' He said the voice was still raspy, an inevitable indication of a peaceful sleep he had relished whereas she hadn't blinked her eyes for a fraction of second.

Yodhya saw him moving, getting out of the duvet and then walking to the bathroom naked. What astonished her utmost was the fact that he didn't try to cover up anything and walked with so much ease as if it was a mundane thing for him to walk around naked with the presence of a lady in the room. She didn't budge from the bed, the brain was busy to recollect the thoughts of what had happened, awaiting his further movements all the while clutching the duvet tight; she secured it around her body covering the ruminants of her modesty. She was still breathing harshly.

His absence had provided her with enough time to recollect her thoughts but the peace soon ended when he sauntered out of the bathroom, fully clothed in khaki knickers and black lose tee.

‘Useless to cover what the man has already seen.’ He winked at her while walking past her to a wooden cupboard adjacent to the bed, from where he took out his praying mattress and retracted to the balcony, leaving a shaking Yodhya in his bed who couldn’t understand what was happening.