Between Lines

Under The Sun of Mughal

In the busy town of Multan, nestled amidst rolling hills and lush greenery, lived the esteemed couple, Diviya and Dr. Ishaan. Blessed with seven beautiful daughters, each possessing their own unique qualities and aspirations. Amongst the seven siblings, there is Durga, a young woman of remarkable determination and unwavering dedication to her love of medicine, as she assists her father, Dr. Ishaan, while her sisters preferred to work with their mother, who was rather busy trading luxury textiles. Under the sun of the Mughal Empire, life was simple for every working class, and it was even beautiful for this family.

Their morning routine is consistent with prayers to the sun god Surraj. Everyone in the household would wake up early before the sun rose and get cleaned, bathing in water with flowers that could scent them with a magical smell and dressing in their best, fresh, clean dresses. That way, they can deliver their prayers to the Surraj as the sun rises and on time.

Dr. Ishaan would don long, over-lapping coats, tailored to fit his shoulder frames, with patka sashes tied around his waist, the pattern on the tip displayed meticulously to the front. He would exude an air of sophistication and grace. And to complete his impeccable ensemble, a turban would be carefully placed on his head, adding a touch of regality to his appearance. Their mother, Diviya, is usually dressed in farshi, a loose and wide bottom flare that gracefully trails as she walks, her head covered with a transparent showel, and her seven daughters in dhilja, a dress made of silk with a wide cut and a straight shape. They wore a showel atop their heads, mirroring their mother's modesty and paying homage to their cultural heritage. Ladies adorned themselves with a symphony of jewellery. Their ears gracefully held delicate earrings, and necklaces cascaded down their necks, each pendant telling a story of its own. The allure of their beauty was magnified by their nose jewellery and their wrists adorned with bangles that jingled with every movement—a joyful symphony that accompanied their every step. Around their waists, slender belts cinched their silhouettes, accentuating their curves and adding a touch of elegance to their attire. And as they walked, their feet adorned with anklets, the soft tinkling sound echoed through the air, like a melody that announced their presence.

As the first rays of the sun gently kissed the earth, casting a warm glow upon the world, the family gathered together in the sacred space of their home. With reverence and devotion, they turned their faces towards the east, where the sun's radiant ascent painted the sky in hues of gold and pink. Before them stood a beautifully adorned altar, meticulously prepared to worship the divine presence of Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and prosperity. Adorned with vibrant shades of green and red. Before the alter, at the very heart of the sacred sanctuary, stood an altar adorned with intricate carvings and shimmering with an ethereal glow. And there, in a mesmerising display of divine beauty, lay a pool of crystal-clear water, its surface adorned with delicate lotus flowers, their petals unfurling like celestial offerings. The sun's golden rays gently caressed the earth, casting a warm glow upon the scene. They would offer water, their voices resonating with a melodious chant. "Om Ghrinim Surya Adityamu." After their morning routine, they would disappear to wherever they had to be.

Unlike any other day, Durga made a spontaneous decision to embark on a leisurely stroll through the vibrant market. As she stepped out onto the bustling streets, a symphony of sounds greeted her ears. The rhythmic clatter of vendors setting up their stalls and the melodic chatter of passersby created a lively atmosphere. Animals were loaded with equipment and were rushing to the market. Underneath the folds of her orhni, a traditional head covering, her lustrous black hair remained hidden from view. Her smile, though seemingly fixed, betrayed a flicker of anticipation as her eyes darted restlessly from one end to the other. As she gracefully made her way down the bustling market area, it was impossible not to notice her. With an air of confidence and poise, she effortlessly commanded the attention of those around her. Every step she took seemed to draw all eyes towards her, as if she were the very centre of the universe at that moment. As she greeted each person she passed, her warm smile and genuine interest in their well-being made them feel as though they were the most important people in the world.

"Good morning, Anti." With a burst of energy, she sprinted towards an old woman, her frail form leaning on a trustworthy cane held firmly in her left hand. With the gentlest of intentions, she extended her hand, a gesture of kindness that spoke volumes about her compassionate nature. At her kindest heart, Durga wanted to offer her hand to the old woman who was struggling to carry a sack full of fruit while everyone receded away from the old woman fearfully. "Let me help," she offered, her voice soft and reassuring. In that, with a graceful motion, she gently shifted to the side, her delicate fingers brushing against her lower lip. A hint of anticipation danced in her eyes as she carefully lifted the weight, cradling it against her right shoulder. The burden, though seemingly heavy, did not deter her determination, as she carried it with quiet resolve.

"Oh, thank you, child." The old woman's voice quivered with gratitude as she uttered her words. Her eyes, weathered by time, shifted towards her sari, a garment that bore the marks of a life well lived. Tiny holes peppered its fabric, evidence of countless memories woven into its very threads. Stains of dirt, like faded ink blots on parchment, told tales of journeys taken and obstacles overcome. With a determined grace, she began the delicate task of securing the sari around her waist, each fold and knot a testament to her resilience and strength. "I can carry the load alone; there is no need for you to spoil your elegant dress, my dear," she gently uttered, diverting her focus towards Durga as she reached out to reclaim possession of the sack.

"Of course not, aunti," she said, her voice trailing off as she slowly retreated, clutching the sack tightly in her hands. With a gentle smile, she replied, "It would bring me great joy to accompany you. After all, I have nothing good to do today. I should put my energy to good use." She murmured softly. With a gentle smile, Durga looked at the woman before her. The woman, deeply moved by Durga's actions, brought her hands together in a gesture of profound gratitude. Her heart swelled with appreciation for the kindness that Durga was extending to her. Her eyes scanned around, taking in the sight of people casting fearful glances in their direction. A wave of confusion washed over her, leaving her feeling slightly lost.

The old woman, her face etched with the lines of a life well lived, turned to Durga, standing beside her. Her voice, though gentle, carried a sense of wisdom that only time could bestow. "Should I lead the way?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with a hint of trouble. Durga's eyes were wide with anticipation, and she nodded eagerly, entrusting herself to the old woman's guidance.

"Please," she agreed with an eager nod, and she started following the woman's slow walk. Her pace was deliberate, each step measured, as if she held the secrets of the world within her stride. Durga's eyes gazed at the curious eyes that followed her every movement. People in the market instinctively made way for the old woman, their expressions tinged with trepidation. It seemed she possessed an otherworldly power that commanded both respect and caution. "I don't think I know you." Her words were simple, yet they carried a subtle hint of curiosity. She wanted to keep her attention focused on the old woman and unravel the mystery that seemed to surround her. "And it feels as though everyone knew you."

"Indeed, you don't know me." Her words hang in the air, carrying an enigmatic aura that leaves a lingering curiosity. Her voice was soft and gentle, carrying a hint of admiration as she spoke. "I know you. Your kind and purest heart is hard to miss," she added, her eyes sparkling with sincerity.

"Do you live far?"

"My house is in the woods." The woman stops her walk and turns back to look at her. "It's not far," she says, pointing to the woods on the right side, where the market stalls end and a long, dusty road begins. "Most people fear the woods for good reasons. I can be on my way from here," she explains to her.

Durga's gaze lifted, her eyes meeting the frail figure before her. A flicker of concern danced across her face, causing her to press her lips together in contemplation. The weight of the decision hung heavy in the air as she pondered the possibility of allowing this feeble old woman to traverse the path alone. With a sense of urgency, she pivots on her toes, scanning the surroundings in search of a willing companion to venture into the mysterious woods. However, to her dismay, she finds that the people around her are gripped by an overwhelming fear of the enigmatic women, causing them to shy away from any potential association. As she gazed into the distance, her eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. A question lingered in her mind, like a whisper carried by the wind. Did they fear her because she is perceived as a witch, simply because of her unkempt appearance and her solitary existence in the depths of the woods?

"You know," she murmured, her lips delicately pressed together. "I could really use some water," she murmured, trying to find a reason to walk the old woman to her home and agreeing with her curiosity more than her fear. "May I have the pleasure of accompanying you to your house?" she inquired. The woman, taken aback by the unexpected request, gazed into the depths of Durga's emerald green eyes, her astonishment evident on her face.

"You?" she asked, her voice filled with a delightful tone. "A woman of nobility asking for a drink in my home?" A glint danced in her eyes as she deepened her smile, revealing teeth that bore the marks of time's relentless passage. Her voice trembled with gratitude as she uttered those words, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "That would be a kindness I can never repay." She weaves her right hand as if telling her to follow her and starts walking down the road.

***

As the weary day drew to a close, casting a golden hue upon the horizon, Durga finally arrived at the sanctuary of her humble abode. The weight of exhaustion settled on her shoulders. Yet, as she approached her home, a peculiar sight greeted her weary eyes. A throng of individuals had congregated near the entrance of her home, their presence casting a curious air over the scene. Their murmurs and whispers hung in the air, mingling with the fading sunlight. She could guess what the commotion was about. The rumour about her and the old women from the market must have found its way to her home before she arrives. Deepening her furrow lines, she gets off the carriage as she hands the coachman some gold coins for the service. Just as her younger sisters Parvati and Aditi spot her, they scream while racing to get to her.

"She's back. She's back!" they both exclaimed simultaneously, their voices filled with a mixture of relief and anguish. Without a moment's hesitation, they rushed towards her, their arms outstretched in a desperate embrace. As she wrapped her arms around them, a flicker of unease danced in her eyes. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of disturbance at the intensity of their worry, all stemming from mere rumours. Yet, at that moment, she chose to set aside her own reservations. She understood the power of fear and how it could grip one's heart and cloud their judgement. And so she held them tighter, offering them the reassurance they so desperately sought. Deep down, she knew that their concern came from a place of love, a testament to the bond they shared.

"Durga, are you okay?" Durga's heart raced as she heard her name being called out. She looked up, her eyes wide with surprise, only to see the worry etched on Diviya's heart as she sprinted towards her. Her voice pierced the air with a desperate cry. Her mind raced with a mix of fear and determination, her maternal instincts propelling her forward with an unwavering resolve. In that fleeting moment, with a sense of nervousness, she gingerly began to inspect her body, her fingertips tracing the contours of her skin. Her heart raced, anticipation mingling with fear, as she searched for any signs of change. She was unapologetically herself, unafraid to let the world see the weight of her worries.

Durga's mind raced with vivid images as she tried to fathom the sheer intensity of the rumour that had reached their ears. The mere thought of being caught in the midst of such a whirlwind of gossip sent shivers down her spine. Durga could almost make out the whispers and sly glances being exchanged between people, all of whom seemed to know something she didn't. Pari and Ira, the two older sisters, gracefully trailed behind their mother as she made her way through the bustling streets. Pari clutched a delicate headcover in her hand, a thoughtful gesture to her mother. Meanwhile, Ira's excitement got the best of her as she eagerly dashed forward, and with open arms, she enveloped Durga in a warm and affectionate embrace.

She gazed into her mother's concerned eyes, desperately attempting to convey a sense of reassurance. "I am fine," she uttered softly. With a heart full of anticipation, she cast her gaze across the bustling crowd that had gathered near the entrance. Her eyes, like two determined explorers, scanned the faces, desperately seeking the familiar figures of her father, her two younger sisters, Jaya and Ira, and her esteemed brother-in-laws, Ayaan and Vihaan. "Where is everyone?" Her voice trembled with a hint of concern as she posed the question, her eyes darting anxiously around. The silence that greeted her only deepened her worry, causing her to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture.

"Let's get inside," her mother whispered, her voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the wind and the murmur of the disgracing crowd. With a delicate gesture, she entwined her arm with her daughter's, a subtle attempt to divert her attention from the lingering inquiry that hung in the air. With a determined look in her eyes, she yearns to draw Durga into the house. However, Durga, unyielding and resolute, refuses to succumb to her persuasive force. "You just missed them; they are out looking for you in the woods." Durga's keen intuition could not help but notice the subtle signs of concern etched upon her mother's face, though her mother tried valiantly to conceal her worry. "Fear not, my dear," she reassured, her voice laced with warmth and determination. "I shall dispatch Jai and Vihaan to get them," she said with a smile, looking into her daughter's concerned eyes. Diviya walks away, thanking her friends and neighbours who were gathered in concern, and Durga pulls back her sister Aditi, and all her sisters stand back with her, looking at her in concern.

"They wouldn't do anything wrong, would they?" She whispered, her voice barely audible. Lost in a whirlwind of contemplation, she directs her gaze towards her sisters and poses her question.

Pari's eyes darted nervously around, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in closer to her. "You don't understand; you simply cannot comprehend the depths of that woman's actions," she scolded, her words laced with a hint of secrecy, a desperate attempt to shield their conversation from prying ears. With a heavy heart, she turned away, her steps faltering as she tried to mask her true emotions. A forced smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a feeble attempt to conceal the turmoil brewing within her. The weight of unspoken words hung in the air. Without uttering a word, Ira gently clasped Durga's forearm, as if to convey a silent understanding. With a determined resolve, she then joined her mother, who stood alongside their eldest sister, Pari.

"Our husbands will get rid of that woman," said a woman among a group of them passing by, her voice filled with unwavering resolve, and Durga heard that clearly.

"You should do the cleaning ceremony for her. Who knows what she did to her?" Anika, her mother's friend, suggested it to her mother, who was standing three feet ahead of her.

"Oh no," Durga whispers. "Aditi, cover me," she whispers to her, and Aditi shakes her head as she quietly looks into her eyes. It's like she knew what she was about to do. "I have to stop, dad." She starts walking backward, and Aditi stays back with concern.

"What are you doing?" Parvati asked her, holding her right arm.

"That woman suffered great loss; I cannot live with myself if something happened to her because of me," Dorga explains herself to Parvati, making her gasp as she looked into Dorga's watery eyes. She is her great companion when they are supposed to do something outrageous. Now is not the time to abandon her.

"Hold mom back, Aditi," she whispers to Aditi, who speeds to their mom and hugs her for no reason. "Are you sure?" Parvati asks her once again.

"I approached the woman; she did nothing to me." Dorga started running, with Parvati accompanying her.

"Where does she live?" Parvati is breathing heavily.

"Her house is near the river banks in the woods."

The sisters can hear their mother scream from behind them as they start running together. "Stop them, Veer," she screams to the one person she trusts her daughters with.

Veer is one of their trusted helpers in their household; he is a slave they own, trustworthy to their father, and would do anything for him and his family.

Durga couldn't help but giggle, her nerves getting the best of her. It was just her nature to react this way, a lighthearted response to the jitters that danced within her. Parvati let out a yelp and instinctively reached for Durga's right hand, holding it tightly. With every stride, they propelled themselves forward, their feet pounding against the ground with relentless determination. The air around them was thick with anticipation, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they pushed their bodies to the absolute limit. Each step was a testament to their unwavering resolve, their muscles burning with the effort.

"I know a short cut," Parvati suggested, and they started running through small villages, making their way with Parvati leading, holding their long skirts up with their hands. They speed straight ahead, and once they turn to their left, they can see the woods, which are darker compared to the open space. They couldn't risk taking Momets since they could hear Veer's horse riding in the distance.

***

"I couldn't do it." Kashvi found herself perched on an intricately carved wooden chair within the confines of her small dwelling. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she addressed the mysterious entity lurking in the shadows of the far corner. The air was thick with the scent of ancient tomes and mystical potions, casting an ethereal ambiance that danced around her like whispers from unseen spirits. Her voice trembled slightly in fear of its disappointment as she dared to speak to the enigmatic being behind her. He stood in silence, a mysterious figure cloaked in darkness. His face was concealed beneath the loosely draped fabric of his black turban, leaving only his piercing cognac-brown eyes visible. Yet there was something otherworldly about those eyes, for they shimmered with a deep reddish hue at their very core. With a mighty grip, he clutches his colossal sword, its gleaming blade reflecting the sunlight. With both hands firmly grasping the hilt, he positions the tip of the weapon against the earth.

From the moment they first met, she sensed an otherworldly aura emanating from him. It was as if her very soul recognised his true essence, a being not of this mortal realm. Her senses tingled with an ancient knowledge, whispering secrets of his existence that transcended the boundaries of ordinary perception. The air crackled with an ethereal energy, and she could feel the touch of his presence coursing through her veins. In that fleeting moment, she knew that destiny had intertwined their fates, forever binding them in a tale of mystic enchantment. She possesses knowledge of the arcane secrets that defy comprehension, and it is this very enigma that led her to find solace in tin-lonlyness nestled deep within the enchanted forest.

Her house stood weathered and worn, as if it had witnessed the passage of countless ages. The air within was thick with the scent of forgotten enchantments, a heady mixture of herbal plants and mystical oils that clung to every surface. Though some may perceive it as unkempt, to those with a discerning eye, it was evidence of the untamed magic that resided within. In the realm of mystic enchantments, she dwelled in solitude, her abode untouched by the footfalls of visitors, save for those who sought her extraordinary talents. They would venture to her, not for mere camaraderie but to beseech her mastery of the healing arts, to bespatter their foes with malevolent incantations, or to procure talismans of fortune.

For the first time in a long while, she had someone at her place today, breaking the spell of isolation that had plagued her for far too long. As Durga's presence graced her house, a wave of bittersweet memories washed over her. It was as if the veils of time had been lifted, transporting her back to the cherished moments she had once shared with her daughter, Prisha. Her innocent smile and kindness reminded her of those days before she lost her daughter.

"What do you desire with her?" She inquires, her voice laced with an element of nervousness. She dared not cast her gaze upon him for fear of the enchantment that lay within his eyes. Instead, she sat in hushed stillness, her gaze fixated upon the ancient door that stood ajar, a portal to the wood.

At the behest of this entity, she found herself drawn to Durga. The mystical force yearned for her aid in crafting a spell that would render Durga's presence clear, ensuring that he would be led straight to her. In the vast expanse of ethereal realms, where the boundaries of existence blur and intertwine, a yearning stirs within his heart. Wherever she is, in whatever life and realm her soul would be, he wants to know.

From a realm far beyond mortal awareness, he gave her a mystical pendant, its shape akin to that of a shimmering coin. Crafted from the essence of otherworldly enchantment, it held within its delicate frame the power to traverse the boundaries of reality. Alongside this enchanting talisman, he provided her with a ring of extraordinary structure, designed to channal Durga in any otherworldly domain or in any life. In the realm of enchantments, he was foretold that Kashvi would wield the knowledge to use the artefacts to forge a bond for him, binding Durga to him.

"She is my purpose," he answered after a long silence. "She belongs to me, and I to her."

"You feel when you're not supposed to feel," she quietly utters, expressing what's on her mind. "How odd," she murmured. "This world works in mystery; once you're in it, it has the power to twist your faith," she says as she exhales heavily.

In the midst of their conversation, her attention was drawn to a distant commotion in the woods. She tilts to her right as she listens attentively. "Someone is here," she says, looking up to the corner where he is standing by.

"Groups of people," he whispers. "She is here too," he says, and she turns to look at the pendants he gave her on the table; since she had worked on the enchantment, it shimmers bright whenever she is around.

A horde of people, their torch sticks gleaming in the darkness between the woods, advanced upon her abode. Their voices echoed through the forest. They sound enraged. Some call Durga's name as if they are looking for her.

"Come out, you wicked witch!" Just as Kashvi stood by her door, a man barked at her. She slams the door shut and hides behind it. She looks around her house and realises that she is alone. She rushes to the pendant and tucks it behind her top, between her breasts. She didn't want anyone to find it, so it would accidentally find its way to her since it was chanted to do so. Then she gets back to the door and presses it shut to keep everyone out.

"Come out!" The air was thick with tension as the sound of frantic screams filled the area. The noise grew louder and more desperate, echoing off the walls like a haunting melody. With each passing second, the intensity as they hit her door escalated, as if a storm was brewing just beyond the confines of her door. Her heart pounded in her chest, matching the rhythm of the chaos outside. Fear coursed through her veins, sending shivers down her spine. She knew she was not safe anymore.

She tries to recede, but they manage to break into her house and drag her out, holding her by her arms, treating her like an animal and unlike the old woman she is. The relentless pounding intensified, as if a horde of wild beasts were relentlessly attacking their prey. Her desperate attempts to keep the old door closed came to no avail. With a forceful crash, they shatter the door, invading her personal space. She is trying to get away, but their grip is too strong, their fingers digging into her flesh.

With every ounce of strength she possessed, she fought against their relentless hold, her mind consumed with a single, desperate thought: escape. But no matter how hard she tried, their grip remained unbreakable and their determination unwavering. The moonless night enveloped the surroundings in an inky blackness, leaving them to rely on the flickering glow of torches clasped tightly in their hands. The feeble flames danced and swayed, casting eerie shadows that seemed to come alive in the stillness of the night. With an air of elegance and grace, a refined man approached her among the crowd, his steps deliberate and measured. As he drew nearer, he gracefully squatted before her.

"Where is my daughter?" Dr. Ishaan asked, his voice filled with concern. His eyes searched hers, hoping to find the answer he longed for. She returned his gaze with a gentle smile, her arched forehead adding an air of mystery to her expression. With a commanding presence, he stands up and issues a chilling command: "Burn it down. Burn it all down!" he screamed, his voice echoing through the night. Without hesitation, they set to work, flames licking hungrily at her small house. She watched in silence, her heart pounding in her chest. As she is kneeling down with her arms held between two men.

A smile adorned her face, concealing the storm of emotions swirling within her. But try as she might, she couldn't stifle the laughter that bubbled up from deep within her. It was a laugh that held a hint of madness, a release of pent-up frustration and anger. But as the flames grew higher, consuming everything, a puppet of tears welled up in her eyes, glistening like liquid diamonds in the flickering light. They spilled over, tracing a path down her cheeks, as she surrendered to the overwhelming surge of emotions that threatened to engulf her. Suddenly, a man blew a hit on her head, and she fell flat on the muddy ground. Dr. Ishaan raised a big cane in the air to strike her.

"Baba!"

"Baba!" In the midst of chaos, the piercing sound of Durga and Parvati's voices filled the air. Yet, amidst the commotion, Durga found herself succumbing to the same fate as Kashvi, who had already fallen. She laid her body draped over her like a protective shield. Every inch of her being was pressed against the surface, as if she sought solace in its embrace. The weight of her presence enveloped Kashvi, creating a cocoon of safety.

Parvati's heart raced as she watched the events unfold before her eyes. She instinctively pressed her trembling hands against her quivering lips, desperately trying to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape. In a swift and unexpected turn of events, she found herself dropping to her knees, her body succumbing to the weight of shock. Her eyes darted anxiously between her father and Durga, her beloved sister, who now stood in harm's way. Parvati's heart ached with worry, her every fibre praying that her father's anger wouldn't lead to an accidental blow against her innocent sister. The air thickened with tension as Parvati's eyes widened. In the midst of the chaios, Durga let out a scream that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of the air. The sound was sharp, signifying pain.