Chapter 2

Obsession : Immersion

Lying on her back, her surroundings effectively faded away by the mosquito nets, she continued to daydream.  This world where she was brought into, more like dragged into, was once a very hazy image.  Although, the most ironic part was that she would now spend hours in this reality blocking out the rest of the world with the physical blanket of her net, and dream of all the chawls she had lived in. 

The high, pristine ceiling of that brat's room resembled the chawl from Agra where the architects tried simulating the white marble walls of the Taj Mahal.  How she had once dreamed of being Mumtaz, living in a world where everything was constant.  Her home would be one place, her surroundings never changing and her relationships always perfect.  More so, it would be a life where she was a constant fixture to all those around her.  No one would wake up and wonder where she had left to, or why she had to leave.  It was simply beautiful that the Taj Mahal was built with an adjacent tower where the King could only see its reflection – forever immersed in his Queen's presence. 

All those years of foolishly dreaming, wanting and begging.  She understood at a certain age that she was only a princess in her Baba's eyes, but it was the best feeling in the world.  Now, that she had her wish granted – the heights to her childishness were embarrassing.  Was she just as much of a brat as that J? 

Then, there was her King, Aakash, whom she did not realize until their paths were made to never meet.  The parallel tracks they once treaded had the beauty of crossing just once, and that moment of time was all she had to cherish.  Before the price of her dreams and desires took their payment, those simple joys were like the Kohinoor jewels that adorned the Taj Mahal.  The porous material of the net which had surrounded her bed reminded her of a gossamer silk canopy, while those beautiful heels Aakash had gifted, helped her feet from touching the ground.  It had made her afloat in happiness, allowing her head to stay soaring amongst the clouds, merrily dreaming, unawares of the storm that would change her entire life.

Like the ruthless stripping of the Taj Mahal's jewels, her happiness, her knowledge of life was taken away.

The tears of overwhelm pooled from the corner of her eyes, and traced a lonely pattern down the sides of her cheeks.  Manyata lifted her palms and pressed them against her face, hoping the coolness would stop the heat that was spreading slowly.  After applying slight pressure to her eyelids with her fingertips, she wiped away the sticky residue of her tears.  The air around her became very thin, her body slowly beginning to perspire due to the restrained stress churning in her body.

"Enough, Moniya!  Enough!"  Her eyes flicked towards the stereo upon which her idols rested, "Why display bhagwan's photo, if you don't have even faith in sharing your problems with him?  Go Monia, go!  Tell Bhagwan, he messed up your wish!"

She sat up, and pushed the net aside, letting out a sigh as her joints protested the quick movement from her once prone state.  Striding over to the stereo, Manyata thought, 'No, Monia, Bhagwan didn't get it wrong, you were just too vague.  Tell him everything!  Usually, you have no problem saying what's on your mind!'

Folding her hands piously and closing her eyes, Manyata began conversing mentally, telling her journey to Raj Mahal and what she had really intended for her wish to grant.  She spoke of her anguish and of her confusion, and she told Him of her lack of direction.  'Now you tell me, please, what do I do?'  Finishing her dua, she went to light the diya hoping that the radiance would enter her own life.

She took a match from the box, and tried striking it.  The match broke.  The second sputtered and died immediately, while the third didn't even work.

"Princess!"

While breaking her fifth match, Manyata groaned, "What are you doing here?!  Leave me alone!  This is a holy place!"

"Rajkumari Manyata, I thought I should pay you a visit … Dadisa mentioned you spend hours alone in your room, lonely.  I thought, how that can be when I am here!"  He shot her a smirk, hoping to get a rise out of her.

"Khutta!  Go away!  I do not want to deal with you right now!"

Udayveer smiled as she couldn't get the next match to light, her fingers shaking most likely in reaction to his presence, and he sounded out a cluck of his tongue, "Uh uh, Rajkumari-ji, Bhagwan doesn't usually hear language like that, I don't think it happens in holy places, you know?"  He chuckled at her sigh of frustration, "Now now, don't get upset.  Let me tell you a joke, it might help."

At her look of pure annoyance, Udayveer continued, "Actually, in reality they use it during Diwali, but this is a situation dealing with light so I'll tell you in a way that fits!  One lonely and angry Rajkumari asked her dashing and smart Rajkumar, 'Mere paas phatadkas hai, phooljaris hai, rockets hai!  Kya hai tumare paas?'" 

Manyata looked at him as if he had grown another head, and faintly felt his hand caress hers.  Within her tight clasp was the poor match that was next in line in her quest to light the diya.  "He said, 'Mere paas maachis hain!'"  With that Udayveer struck the match against the wall, never breaking eye contact, and cupped her hand with his effectively lighting the diya.

"What?!"

"You didn't get it, Princess?"

"No I did, it was a spin-off of AB and Shashi from Dewar! ... But I can't believe you could actually watch something other than the jhumkas and thumkas!"  She shot back with a smug look.

Once again, he bestowed her with a smile and leaned to come closer to her face, "Anyways, Rajkumari Manyata, seems like Diya aur Baati Hum."  He loved as her eyes widened, and her nose began to crinkle.

"You're crazy!  You know that?  So weird!  You aren't some, some, some.. Shah Jehan, and I am no Mumtaz!  You are a khutta!"  She turned on her heel, huffing out her anger in short bursts at his audacity to always come into her personal comfort zone –whether it was physical, mental, or emotional.

Something within him sparked as she turned her back towards him, and he placed a hand on her arm.  Softly, as to cause goosebumps to arise, and took a grand step towards her.  Her back was flush against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, hoping to keep her trapped in place as he spoke.  "My dear Rajkumari Manyata, dogs are the most loyal of companions," he only locked his arms into a more rigid frame around her as Manyata began to squirm against him.  Udayveer bent to nuzzle his nose against the milky expose of her neck, his lips travelling along the softness of the smooth skin and contours.  Feeling the fight begin to work itself into strength, he smiled and continued before she could burst, "I may be a khutta, Manyata, but I am loyal.  I want only you and we belong to each other, we have a right on each other.  Although, this confidence and belief alone will not keep others from trying to sway or seduce us."  He unlocked his arms, and she stumbled away in her frenzy.

"Stop it!  Stop it!  There can't be anyone else for me!  Aakash loves me, and I have to be with him!"  Manyata stared at him with conviction, infuriated that she always stilled at the initial moments of contact with Udayveer.  Whenever he touched her, her body felt as if on fire, and unlike with Aakash – she wanted to feel more of this burn.  A small part of her raced when Udayveer would touch her with such assurance, clarity, and awareness. 

His mouth went into a slant and he stared at her, almost as if into her core, and spoke, "You know what Shah Jehan described his Taj Mahal as?  He waxed poetic on its beauty, its symbolism and on the eternal image of his love, of Mumtaz," Udayveer advanced slowly, placing each step in front of the other as Manyata took every hesitant and cautious step backwards.  "He said, 'should guilty seek asylum here, like one pardoned, he becomes free from sin. Should a sinner make his way to this mansion, all his past sins are to be washed away. The sight of this mansion creates sorrowing sighs; and the sun and the moon shed tears from their eyes. In this world this edifice has been made; to display thereby the creator's glory.'"  Udayveer placed his hands on either side of Manyata's body as her back collided with the wall. 

Once again, he stepped towards her, pressing his firm body flush against her, and stared hard at the princess.  Satisfied that she was also lost in the moment, he spoke quietly but clearly, "Manyata, the more you wish with all your heart for a Rajkumar who will love you and sweep you off your feet, the more our paths will cross; every other desire will only prove to be falsehood."  As her eyes bowed with the uncomfortable feeling arising within her, he took a wide step back, staring at her in her embarrassed glory.  'Dadisa was right, all I need to do is spend time and talk to her, make her comfortable to my presence.'

After the passing moments of silence, her head once again raised and she half-heartedly snapped "Khutta!"

Smiling, he replied, "Only for you, Princess!" and winked. 

As her face flushed red, the servent knocked and entered the room, "Rajkumar Udayveer, Maharaj Brijraj has called you to his study." 

He bowed towards Manyata, and stilled as she looked at him with an unveiled vulnerability, her eyebrows raised in contemplation while her eyes searched his face.  He gave her a soft smile that usually was saved for Unnati, and left.

As the resounding sound of the door closing reached her ears, Manyata made her way in a daze towards her bedding.  Haphazardly ducking under the net, she further lost herself in thought.  Unconsciously, she spent hours immersed in thoughts centering around Udayveer.  The mere lunacy of him wasting away in imprisonment and losing his grip on reality, surrounded by a image of her, of their love, of their own Taj Mahal.  Hours passed and she would randomly giggle at the notion of him and her being Shah Jehan and Mumtaz Mahal, respectively, and how she would haunt him and never let him forget her.  It was only fitting, because no matter how she tried, he lived in the back of her mind never to be erased.

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FIN

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I will come around to sending PMs, most likely after some sleep 

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Nighty night, world