Un kanavu kōttaiku kāvalan naan...

2 years ago

Pottermeow

@Pottermeow

This chapter is written in a non-linear format. Anything in plain italics will be flashbacks.

Also, I'd like to give a heads up to everyone that one chapter every two to three weeks is going to be the average speed of things around here...

Note:

Un kanavu kōttaiku kāvalan naan... - I am Guardian to the fortress of your dreams...

xxxxxxx

He looks up at the building of white in front of him, the cab that brought him here long gone, now that the half asleep driver has realised exactly where he'd given him directions to. 

He remembers the first time he'd set eyes on this house, still a little ruffled from both the fight, and the information that visiting Rajendra Desai's godown of gold had resulted in. He had remembered her request, her first request to him, and realised that he'd left it unfulfilled. So, he'd come to check on her. 

His mind goes back even further, to the moment she'd actually made the request of him. Rocky had wanted to tease her, feeling a sense of smug satisfaction at the sight of the quite awe in her eyes. 'Thangam, edho solli kittu irundhiye thangam?' //Darling, you were saying something, weren't you?//

She hadn't turned to look at him, to fight him, the way she usually did. Instead, in a soft voice, she'd asked something of him, 'Enna veetla kondu poi vidu'. //Just drop me home.//

'Okay....'

He waits as the back gate to the little mansion opens up, allowing a female worker to walk in, and he takes advantage of the visibly sleepy guard, gently placing a knife in between the door and it's frame. The guard walks back to wherever his station is, and he can hear low snores a moment before he cracks the door open. Just enough for him to enter. 

In his head, her eyes from that moment morph into the first time he'd ever seen them, and he chuckles as he walks down a short corridor to the heat of what seems to be a kitchen. Hopefully, the smell of sambar is a good indication. 

Rocky is tempted to sit down, ask for a few rotis, and have it with that sambar, but he simply places a hand on his lips in a gesture to tell the kitchen staff to stay quite as he walks through the place when they turn to look at him. Either they're too intimidated, or simply used to goons walking through. He doesn't turn back to make sure. 

He walks through a longer, open, corridor this time, until he reaches a staircase that overlooks the back porch of her house. Climbing up, he calculates mentally in his mind, hoping beyond hope that her standing on the balcony right above the porch that day was an indication of where her room was. And not just her wanting fresh air. And then he sees her in his mind's eye, how she'd looked thoughtful and a little vulnerable. Until her eyes had caught something in the gardens, a child playing, probably some maid's kid, and she had put her hands behind her back. She'd straightened up then, chin lifting back up as she nodded to herself firmly. Some decision made in her mind. 

Probably not a need for fresh air if she'd felt free enough to show something other than her ever present anger, he decides. 

Rocky feels the satisfaction of being correct, once more, as he reaches the top of the second flight of stairs, and sees wooden doors with little squares of glass and white curtains behind them in front of him, another corridor stretching to both sides of him. 

It's quickly replaced by ire as he sets a hand on the wooden panels of her door, catching an outline of a distinctly feminine figure sleeping on the edge of a huge bed. Admitted that it was near sunrise, the night guards either too drunk or too sleepy, and the morning guards not here yet, but had those idiot goons forgotten his sweetly worded request to them? 'Aye! Inimel la irundhu ivanga appa ku naan dhan mapillai, unga ellarukum naan machaan. Unga akka va nalla paathukanum.... Nalla paathu konga da!' //Aye! From this second onwards, I'm the only son-in-law her father has, and brother-in-law to your lot. You folks just take good care of your sister.... Take good care of her!//

Perhaps, the next time, he shouldn't hold himself back when he's threatening people? 

Yes, he shouldn't, he decides as he gently pushes the doors forward, and they open without a single creak. The white curtains billow against his face in the gentle breeze from a fan, and the smell of sandal and roses hit his nose right along with it. It makes him feel so heady, that he feels transported to the first time he'd laid eyes on her, stumbling half drunk towards her party because they'd had alcohol, and he'd wanted some. 

He'd found his alcohol for the night, yes. The crates of beer that Rajendra Desai's daughter had managed to procure on a Dry Day were impressive enough, but then she'd been golden, and drinking right from the bottle, and she'd turned around, and Aatha (Maa Kaali, the Mother) would probably screw him ten times over for this, but those eyes! It was like he was 10 years old and his Amma was about to whack him one up the head all over again. 

The same fire. 

The same entitlement. 

As if this world was hers, and anyone who bothered to deny it, she'd stomp right over. He was head over heels in love. And curious. 

So he'd walked over the barricades she'd had set up, and she would have had to turn into a crone for him to not find her sexy for that, and circled around her. Assessing her, making sure the girl he was about to pursue was worth it. And there was such pride, such confidence in the way every inch of herself held itself, that he couldn't help himself. 

Plus, he had good background music now. Dramatic. 

Dum maaro Dum.... 

'Congratulations'. And he breathed in deep, waiting to see what she would do. Sandalwood and roses steeped in water, and something metallic beneath it all. 

Mit jaaye gham.... 

'Why?' Her brows lifted, face still admirably blank, and the mildest hint of curiosity in her eyes. 

Bolo subah shaam.... 

'I love you'. He could practically hear her breath hitch. 

'How dare you?!' There's a furnace in her eyes, he thinks to himself. And he is forged metal already, but perhaps he needs to be sharpened. 

'How fair you?' And the allusion to his lust, love for her, arising from his admiration of the body she is confined to must set her off. 

Hare Krishna, Hare Ram!!! 

And just as he figured out that her choker and headband were probably actual gold, and that must be what the underlying smell was, he heard her. Could a woman even smell like that? Like she'd taken a gold bar and rubbed it across her skin? 'Enna da paathukitu irukinga? Vandhu adinga da!'//What are you goons sitting and watching?! Come beat him up!//

Well, fukc if that didn't turn him on. 

But he also remembers how he'd imagined the chain of a steel to be a thaali, how he'd had to stop himself from saying something he wasn't sure he meant yet.... 'Love deeply going inside, I! Shut up Rocky. Shut up, shut up. Shut up shut up!'

In present time, he still wonders at himself. At his lack of control that day, something that he avoided at nearly all costs. He blinks, the room coming back into focus, and realises that he's lost control again, because he's right by his thangam's bed, and his hand has reached out to her hair. Silk. Straight. Black. And strong. 

The hint of gold in her scent is missing today, and as he takes another look around her room, he realises why. This isn't Reena Desai, daughter of Rajendra Desai, his thangam. This is sweet sweet Reena, in her most unguarded form, a woman he has yet to learn about. Not a creature of the night, parties and fashion and brutally cold power. But instead a twenty something girl, with a palace of dreams and clouds of white, gauzy, curtains. Candles are lit around her room in jars and otherwise, and she's bundled up in a white robe with roses on it, as if she yearns for warmth. 

He pulls his hand back, fingertips grazing her hair, and instead moves aside the curtain that keeps him from seeing her face clearly, and his breath hitches. Her face is serene, soft in a way he has only been able to catch glimpses of so far, and she sighs as her eyes seem to flit about in her world of dreams. 

In the warm light of the rising sun, she is still his thangam, the smell of gold or not. And as he leaves his paltry copper amulet with her for safekeeping, he makes a promise in his mind. 

Reena... I will, keeping you safe, Reena. Unnaiyum, unn kanavu ulagathaiyum. Promise. //Reena, I will keep you safe. You, and your dreams. I promise.//

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Reena was fifteen years old, and in her tenth grade, when she'd been taken to one of the biggest jewellery stores in Bengaluru by her Appa. One of her cousin's were getting married, and it simply would not do for her to wear old jewellery. It was a matter of her Appa's place in society. Of his ability to get her new things, whether or not she needed them. And Reena had been taught from an early age, that her every action was meant to show this city just how powerful Rajendra Desai was. 

She had gone with no protests, and had looked around dutifully until she'd found a Lakshmi maala, along with a matching pair of jimikki and valaiyal. Grand, but not outrageously so. And classy in an eternal sort of way. Fit for the princess the world was to see her as. 

Leaving her new purchases to be weighed and billed, she'd been roaming around the store in an attempt to figure out what the latest fashions were. After all, this was Avenue Road, where any new fad reached first in the state. That was when she'd found the headband. A thin, yet strong band of gold, and yellow diamonds of a not insignificant number inlaid in the front half of it. 

A few minutes later, Rajendra Desai was standing in front of the piece of jewellery, looking between itself and his daughter, as if assessing quality. Not just the band's, but also her own. 

His face went completely blank before he questioned her though. "Unakku naan idha edhuku vāngi kudukanum?" //Why should I buy this for you?// 

Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she wondered if she should make up some grandiose reason. But well, she'd never been able to lie to Appa, and lying badly would only be an insult to both of their intellects. "Yēna enakku idhu venum"//Because I want it.//

He gestured to the man holding the band to keep it away before responding to her. "No, Reena". And then he was turning and walking out, and Reena was still standing there. She had never been denied anything she'd wanted, so long as it was reasonable, and would not cause her harm. Which a headband really couldn't do. 

"Appa!", she calls out, and he pauses, turns around, and his walking stick clacks against the marble floor. "Why not?", she asks, and she can see a satisfied gleam in his eyes from where she stands. This is what he had expected, wanted. 

"Aasai padradhuku, oru alavu iruku. Andha alavu, namma vazhkaila enna sādhikuromo, adhai poruthu dhān alakkanum", her father says, and she feels embarassed and small even when she's still not sure of what he is getting to. "Nee edha sādhikama vittaiyo, adhai panni kaatu. This is your one chance Reena, and one chance is all every man gets". Her mouth opens with a childish argument, but her Appa gets to it before her. "Or woman". He chuckles as he walks away, adding over his shoulder at her, "And yes, Appa always knows!"//There is a limit to what you may wish for. And that limit is set by our achievements in life. Do what you failed to accomplish, Reena.//

Reena spends a day, then two, in confused embarrassment, before the results for her last Maths test is out. She had failed. Abysmally so. She had gotten drunk on one too many bottles of wine the day before the test, and despite her being more than good at the subject on any average day, her hangover had affected her too much. The stupid teacher must have told on her, then waited to hand the papers out in the hope that she wouldn't get caught. Fool. But yes, Appa does always know. 

A week later, Reena has another Maths test. The day the results come out, Reena knows she is first in her grade before she's ever seen the papers. The moment she reaches home, she leaves the papers in her Appa's study, on his desk, with his silver elephant figurine sitting atop it. When she walks into her room after a silent dinner that night, she finds a jewel box from the store on Avenue Road open on her bed. And inside, nestled within shimmering black velvet, lies her headband. She has proven her worth. And learnt her lesson. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Reena realises she's dreaming when she realises that the footsteps she hears in her sleep have a cadence to them that she's heard before. Except, that time, she had also heard the sound of petrol sloshing on the floor of her Appa's biggest pub with his every step. 

Rocky. Rāja Krishnappa Bairya, according to the driving license he'd left on a table in his room at the Bell Hotel. Rāja, she'd scoffed. No wonder the man thought so highly of himself. But still, that day in the pub, she'd remembered a lesson her Appa had given her a long time ago, and decided that he'd deserved a chance too. 

'Aasai padradhukum oru alavu vēnum. Adhuvum ennai maari oru ponna. Irundhālum unakku oru chance tharen, nee aambalaiya nu kaatradhuku. Ithanai pēra thaandi vandhu nee ennai thottuta, naan unakku dhān sondham'. //There is a limit to what you may wish for. And that too for a girl like me. Still, I'll give you one chance, to show us all just how man you are. If you manage to touch me in front of all these men, I will belong to you.//

He'd walked out even as Kamal's goons had taunted him. And she'd felt herself fall from the high that throwing that challenge at him had given her. Was this all he truly was? A coward who wouldn't fight for what he wanted? Because she'd seen the want in his eyes more than once by now... Not just for her body, but for her heart, for her to want him. And now he was walking away when she gave him a chance to take what he wanted? 

Barely five minutes later, he'd been walking towards her, petrol around all of them, and his steps had slowed down just as he'd reached her, just as it did in her black world of a dream. Weird dream. 

And then, Reena hadn't wanted him to touch her. Because they were no longer on equal footing, and she would give herself to a man freely, but she would not be taken from herself like that. His hand had reached out for her, and she had flinched back, eyes shut tight and chanting in her mind, not like this, not like this, please just not like this. 

She had felt the warmth of his palm in front of her face, and she had frozen, but then that warmth wasn't there, and she had slowly opened her eyes. In her dream, she felt the warmth of something hover over her shoulder, then slightly caress her hair as it moved away. Probably just the wind... That smelt very much like him. Distinct. His scent was the sweetness of nicotine, a whiff of sourness from the bottles of alcohol he seemed to live on, and gunpowder. Beneath it all though, there was a hint of warm, moist earth to him. Like he'd grown up on a field and the dirt had stuck stubbornly under his nails. 

'Kādhalikura avanuku dhān ponnōda madhipu theriyum.' And she'd felt less of a woman in that one moment. Grateful to his twisted morality because it had kept her from being taken, and angry at herself for underestimating him. //Only a man who loves a woman truly will know her worth.// 

'Trigger mela kaiya vechavan ellam shooter um illai, ponnunga mela kaiya vechava ellam aambalaingalum illai. Ennōda arumai enna nu, enna nēsikuravangala thavira vera yaarukum theriyādhu'. //Not every man who places his finger on a trigger is a shooter, and not every man who touches a woman is manly either. My worth, is something that only someone who truly loves me will understand.//

Reena had felt her body heat up in anger at the implication that she didn't love him. Feels her body heat up even in her dream, as she grows impatient with this black world and her thoughts and looks around in hope of a way to wake up. Who was he to decide if she loved him or not? She herself was confused about her feelings, didn't know what to do with him and her heart and the smell of the earth on him. So how dare he come to a decision for her, and that too one that felt so wrong? 

She sighs as she smells that hint of earth on a breeze once more, her body relaxing in her black world. And then she feels something cool in her hand, and as flowers and books bloom in her dreamscape, Reena feels like this is important. Significant in a way that is beyond her dreams. She feels claimed, the way she had that day even without him touching her. So she clenches the cold metal in her hand to remind herself that this is a dream, and goes about her dream day. 

xxxxxxxxxxx

Hours later, Reena blinks her eyes open from one of the most peaceful dreams she's ever had. She clenches the cool metal in her hand, instinctively trying to hold on to it, and realises that it was not a part of her dreamscape. She blinks and sits up, pushes her hair out of her face. 

It is the only thing that she has ever seen him adorn himself with, and the worn copper has symbols that she knows make it an amulet for protection. A promise settles deep into her bones, and Reena feels safe. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Notes:

Thangam - Rocky's nickname for Reena, literally means gold. It is what he works towards collecting throughout the movies, and what his nickname for her means in all five languages the film was released in. In this context, it is an endearment with a meaning similar to 'Darling'. 

Sāmbār - For the rare person who might not know, is a stew of pulses, vegetables, and tamarind water. I think Kannada versions add jaggery as well, though. 

Aatha - It's a very non specific name for deities that are usually local versions of Goddess Durga/Kaali. It literally translates to mother/grandmother/matriarch though, and usage differs with family practices. 

Lakshmi maala - A maala is a haar (necklace), that's generally longer and falls till the breasts at the very least. The Lakshmi motif is a very popular design. 

Jimikki - South Indian slang for jhumka. 

Valaiyal - Bangles, usually thinner ones, but in this case, think kangans. 

Rāja - King.