Satya heard the door bang shut behind her. The scent of jasmine incense flitted about the room. Shaking with fury, she unraveled one arm to tug at the blindfold across her eyes. It had felt so tight on her head. Yet, it came off easier than she had imagined. She flung it away, forcefully. It fell to the ground and slid under the bed. Satya’s hand returned to her bare chest, as her eyes traveled up the dark wooden structure, taking in the golden paint around the posts, the intricate carvings at the head, the silk sheets, pillows and bedding, and the fine mosquito net that fell gracefully from a hook on the ceiling. At any other time, she would have admired it’s beauty and welcomed it’s comfort. She would have jumped happily into its inviting silk sheets. Tonight the whole bed loomed over her like an ominous spectre. She shook her head, refusing to believe the ordeal that could happen anytime now.
No! She would rather die than let any strange man touch her. She would not give herself up in this manner. She would fight even if she was tortured.
Strung between fear and anger, she turned her head to the closed door, half expecting someone to walk in at that very moment. But it didn’t open. After a few heated moments, her eyes wandered around the room looking for a way to escape the place. It was a magnificent room, splendidly decorated with silk curtains, dark wood furniture, luxurious gold-plated vases, and all sorts of animal artefacts. The walls were painted chalk-white in colour. Only a couple of items gave away the intended purpose of the room. Two larger-than-life paintings of scantily-clad women, in knee-length antariyas, hung on opposite walls on either side of the bed. She screwed up her face at the pieces and turned to look at the opposite end of the room. Here, she saw the curtained windows that looked out into the black velvet night. Even from her spot, she could make out that they were tight shut. No chance of escaping from there. The only inlet for the air were the metallic barred ventilators at the top of the windows. The whole room felt like a golden cage to the young maiden.
The sounds of a gong came from the street outside. It marked the end of the first quarter of the night. That meant the time was half past nine in the night. She knew Uncle Madhava and Aunt Sulochana would be looking for her by now. It was the first time she hadn’t shown up for dinner since she started studying at the university.
Surely, they would find her soon?
Perhaps they were already on the way here. Hope of reuniting with them brought new vigour to her aching limbs. She would find a way to escape before the strange guest reached the room. But first things first. Her eyes darted around the room again, looking for a piece of cloth to tie around her upper body. She had just decided to use one of the silk sheets from the bed when she heard footsteps outside the door.
Was it another servant sent to check up on her? Or was the guest already here?
Satya watched petrified as the door opened slowly. A young man walked into the room, closing the door behind him. Satya recognised him instantly, staring at his attractive, young face in disbelief. In all her wildest dreams, she had never expected to be locked in the same room with the great general of Satayu.
On top of the humiliation she had already suffered on being stripped of her upper garment, would she now face the disgrace of losing her virginity to her sworn enemy?
Rage and hatred built up in her heart. She stood up quickly, her body shaking in frenzy. In her indignation, she never saw the shock and mortification in Veerata's eyes. Instead, she saw him draw his sword and advance towards her, pointing the tip at her throat. She shut her eyes tight, certain that Veerata’s blade would sever her head any moment now.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my room?"
Satya's eyes opened wide. Anger turned to confusion.
Did he not recognize her?
"Speak girl," Veerata hollered. Satya flinched. "Don't test my patience!"
Satya closed her eyes again, unable to answer. The ensuing silence felt even more oppressive than before. She didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, she felt the soft touch of fabric on her shoulders. Surprised, she looked up again. The sword was gone. Veerata stood closer to her, a look of pity visible in his blazing, amber-coloured eyes. His robust chest, lean and muscular arms, and powerful neck was now bare to her scrutiny. Embarrassed, her eyes darted away from him and fell on the shiny cloth hanging from her own shoulders. It’s white colour, silky texture, and border patterns matched the young general’s lower garment. To her astonishment, she realised that Veerata had just removed his own uttariya and draped it over her body. There was no time to think. Hurriedly, she slid the garment over her left shoulder and down her chest, covering her upper body up to her navel. Then she pulled the longer end of the same cloth from behind her waist, passed it under her right arm, wound it three times over the front of her abdomen, and tied it securely at her back.
A wave of relief passed over her at being fully dressed again.
Comments (0)
See all