This content was originally posted by: CDloveThis is brilliant! I can totally picture Rudra in a crazy obsessive avatar, protecting her like a wild beast. Rudra reminds me of Heathcliff of Wuthering Heights (even more so than ASR of the show that cannot be named although we used to make many comparisons with him in yonder days 😆).
Rudra has this wild ferociousness in his character which you have captured brilliantly in this OS.
Kudos!
TOMORROW: Entering the village to get the mission
started would not be the problem. The BSD had enough men, and enough firepower
to take down a major Indian city, much less a sleepy little place like Birpur.
The problem would be, of course, that the Major would almost certainly be
killed as soon as the Thakur's men saw a single uniform within fifty feet of
the Haveli. They would delay opening the gates, somehow they would slow down
the rescue party. They would never risk being caught holding a BSD Army Major
prisoner within their own walls. And the BSD by now knew exactly how gruesomely
that prisoner's body would be disposed of before help, or witnesses, arrived.
General Singh's
eyes felt gritty with the days of sleep he had already missed. But he continued
on, planning his rescue mission, roaring orders at a devastated Aman, cursing
the Army's endless paperwork and red tape. The General felt the burn of anger
curl within his chest. He was helpless, knowing that every minute he spent
here, sitting and waiting for clearance from the oblivious politicians up in
Delhi was another minute that the officer who was like his own son
suffered sadistic torture at the Thakur's
hands.
Aman knocked on the door. The General looked up, and his eyes narrowed as they
fell on the young girl standing a few yards behind Aman. Paro spoke: "Maaf kijiye---menne Aman sir ko manne cell se call kiya,
aur usko majbur kiya, ke who mujhe aapke pas lei aye. Aap ko kuch batana tha.
Menne pata hai---Thakur sa ke Haveli pe pal-pos ke bara hui hu mein. Who log USKO kaha band karke rakha hoga, woh
pata hai mennu. Aur kaise jaana hai waha pe, chup ke. Woh bhi janti hu. Aapko
madat chaiye, naa? Pareshan hai na, aap sab, USKO liye? Mennu bas ek bar puch
leta, General saab. Mennu madat kar deti! Aap nahi ja sakhta hai, par mein ja
sakhti hu, mein chori se ghuss ke rastha dekha sakhti hu, aapko aur aapko sari
BSD team ko."
(Eng:"Forgive me--I asked Aman Sir to come to my cell, and I forced him to
bring me here to you. I need to tell you something. I know the Thakur's haveli
very well, you see---after all, I was practically brought up there. I know
exactly where they are holding HIM. And how to get there-- I know that too. You
need help right? You are all worried, for HIM? You should have asked me, just
once, General saab. You can't go there, but I can, I can sneak in, I can get
you and your BSD men inside and show you the way.")
******************************************
HE had been
missing for over three days before someone bothered to mention this news in
front of the prisoner. Paro sat, as quiet and still as a statue in her cell.
She sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, her eyes shimmering with tears.
Tears? She sniffed, wiping her wet face, slapping herself slightly in annoyance.
Tears still fell, cutting a salty path down her cheeks.
Her heart hammered and leapt within her
chest, and she scolded that silly organ too. Why was she reacting like this?
She did not know why she was feeling this way. Three days. Was he...could he
be...dead ? No. No. her mind shied away from that idea like a cornered animal. She
was almost as frightened by her inexplicable reaction as she was by her
awareness that she was teetering on some edge.
One either side of her was a
chasm, she could fall one way or the other. And neither side was safe, neither
side would let her go on being the same Paro she had always been.
An odd distortion of emotions seemed to have trapped her within its coils. Paro
knew she should be happy, the Jallad was being beaten, being whipped. He must be broken, and
cut with knives and suffering from torture. They had found out a lot
about how the Thakur operated by this time. She knew what he could do to his
own people--so Bholenath knew what he was doing to his greatest enemy.
This
should make her happy and yet she what she felt was---gut wrenching fear?!! Why? As if
she herself was about to undergo such things?? As if it was she who was facing
torture and death?? Ridiculous! She was here, in the BSD Headquarters, and HE
was there, in the Thakur's clutches. She was safe and HE was...
She suddenly felt
her throat closing up. Paro got up to drink every last drop of water in the
water jug. Her hands shook, and she quickly put the glass down before she
dropped it, staring at her own hand as if it no longer was her own.
She knew she should feel satisfaction, at the thought of the Jallad there,
alone, broken. And yet, all she actually felt was...was as if the air was being
squeezed out of her lungs. It was as if her brain instructed her to feel one
thing, and her heart decided to make her actually experience something
completely different.
Madness! She closed her eyes, and all she saw in her mind
were his own. Burning, pain-filled, a gaze of such turbulence, such raw agony
it reached across the miles between them and pierced her with--No. She got up,
breathing heavily, her skin crawling.
No.
The Jallad had been captured. One too many daring raids, one too many acts of
bravery, one too many attempts to cheat Fate. The Thakur was behind this
capture, this was confirmed by the BSD scouts who had brought the news of the
ambush and the kidnapping three days ago. After the Birpur Baraat fiasco, Rudra
and the BSD had been using her secret information to steadily stop each illegal
activity that funded the Thakur's terrorist activities. The net was closing,
inexorably. The Thakur was getting trapped behind wave after wave of obstacles,
each minor, each just a small breakdown of his empire--but all of it slowly
adding up to defeat.
She could have warned that arrogant, foolish, insane man. One did not corner a
snake and then turn one's back on the danger, one took more care, and stayed
safe! One did not assume the snake would not strike, and strike hard. One did
not ride one's jeep around with the arrogance of a God, with no protection, not
even a constable to watch one's back.
So, of course, it had happened, HE was
captured. And Paro should be glad, knowing that HE was being tortured. Knowing
that HIS mind was being stripped its strength, knowing that HIS voice was
screaming in agony, that HIS arms were failing to protect his crippled body
from pain. What had they...?
Another turn around the cell. Another debilitating pulse of something queerly
like panic, like terror. Paro looked at her hands, held before her.
They had clenched, by themselves, into fists, her own nails had cut crescent
half moons of blood into her palms. She was shaking, sweat beading on her body
as if the cell had grown clammy with condensation. She had eaten nothing and
yet she felt queasy, as if she was about to retch her guts out, all over the
floor. She did not know why. He rose up in her mind, as he always had, night
after night.--A circle of contained fire, his outline burning like a pillar of
flames. Today, those flames, the ones that had always burnt like wildfire--warmed her. It no longer mattered why.
Her feet led her to the cell door, and she shouted, in a hoarse voice that she
herself did not recognize, for Officer Aman Kundra. NOW.
***************************************
For three days, the question had been the same. Rudra had been burnt with
heated irons, his nails torn out with pliers, he was shashed with daggers and
beaten until he had passed out. The torture had varied, depending on what new
method of pain the Thakur thought of. But the question he was asked never
changed. "Who is the BSD source? Who is the traitor in Birpur?"
Rudra repeated his statement one more time, the only thing that he had said to
his torturers for three days and three nights. "Name--Rudra Pratap Ranawat.
Rank-- Major, BSD, Indian Army. Serial Number 543876." And after stating the only things he was
supposed to say to the enemy after capture as a prisoner of war, Rudra had
smiled at the Thakur. That man, with flaming eyes of the zealot and sadistic
imagination of the psychopath, had wrecked his body and mind, his fury at the
Major coming out in the sheer imagination and intensity of the torture he did
to his prisoner. But Rudra had smiled because, even as agonizing screams were
wrenched from his throat, the question itself had given him peace.
Because it meant that he had won, and the Thakur had lost. Until the question
had been put to him, Rudra had never been fully sure about Paro's safety. There
had always been the chance of a leak, of the Thakur knowing who the secret BSD
witness really was. But the question meant that the terrorists had no idea that
Paro was alive and was their source. Paro was safe. Because three days, three years, even three lifetimes
would not be enough for them to get to Paro through Rudra.
This night's session had been particularly bad, the Thakur had been more
agitated than usual, and that meant more severe beatings than other nights. Blows came, vicious and hard. Rudra collapsed, unconscious.
*************************************
When he awoke, to
hear the dungeon door open, Rudra plunged right into his worst nightmare. He had
come back to consciousness when he heard the distant sound of screams and gun
shots. Expecting his torturer to have returned, Rudra had barely opened his
eyes, when his body went rigid with shock. In front of him stood someone far
more frightening than the man who had tortured him----dressed in a black tunic and
pants, her hair wild and free, stood the one person who should never be here,
never be in danger, never be locked inside this dungeon. No! Hanging from the
ropes that lashed him to a hook above his head, in the dungeon in the basement
of the Thakur's haveli, Rudra awoke. And in front of him stood---Parvati.
"Nahi..." Rudra's voice, cracked, hoarse with
fear, burst from his lungs. "Nahi. Tu yaha nahi ho
sakti!!! Nahi ho sakti!!! Tin din menne kuch nahi kaha, aur marne tak kuch nahi
bataunga. Lekhin kya faida, agar woh tuje yaha dekha? Tu ne yeh kya kiya? Tu
yaha aa gaya kaise? Kyu? Woh Thakur--- tujhe woh dekhne ke baad menne tuje
kaise bachaungi? Tujhe woh khatam kar dega! Nahi, tu laut ja! Who dekh lenge!
Laut ja Paro!"
(Eng: "No! No! You cant be here! You cannot be here! For three days, I haven't said
a word, and I won't say anything even when they kill me--but what is the use of
any of that if they see you here? What have you done? How can you be here? Why?
That Thakur--when he sees you, how will I be able to protect you? Save you? He'll
kill you! No! Go back!! He'll see you, Paro! Go back!")
"Major Saab, please, shant ho jaiye! Thakur ke aadmi
sab upar gaya! BSD ka full force aya yaha, aapko bachane ke liye! Aap chinta mat
kijiye, koi nahi dekha mennu! Dekhenga bhi nahi, hum darwaja band kar diya,
bheetar se! Menne chup ke ghus aya, wait kiya, jab tak Thakur aur usko aadmi BSD
ko samna karne ke liye gaya! Mere baat maniye! Mujhe kuch nahi hoga! Shant ho
jaiye!" Paro begged, her fear at
his crazed, panicked reaction making her speak from the heart.
(Eng:"Major Saab, please, be calm! Thakur and his men have all gone upstairs! The
BSD are here, with their full force, to rescue you! Please don't worry, no one has
seen me! They won't see me, I came in and locked the dungeon door from the
inside!! I came secretly. I hid and I waited until the Thakur and his men went off
to face the BSD outside. Please listen to me! Nothing will happen to me!!
Please, calm down!")
*******************************************
Paro had slipped into the dungeon, as soon as the BSD had staged a diversion in
the village. The Thakur, already paranoid, had immediately left with his men,
leaving the prisoner to one guard. Paro watched, hiding, as the man stationed
outside the dungeon finally went up to find out what was going on. For a
girl who had grown up playing in these underground cellars, Paro had taken
exactly one minute to slip in between sacks of rice and other stored items to
reach this, the one room in the Haveli that had always been forbidden. The room
where she now found Rudra, bloodied, hanging from the ceiling, where his body
spun in the night air like a grotesque, red-painted broken doll. Shaking, Paro picked
up a dagger, and sawed at the ropes.
She had locked the dungeon door as soon as she had slipped in here. The
General's orders had been strict. She was to wait until the BSD did their diversion,
and then slip in through the underground passage, into the Haveli. She was to
find the Major, if she was right, and if he was being held in the underground
dungeon. And she was to stay WITH HIM, locked inside the dungeon while the BSD
staged a counter attack on the Haveli. As she helped the Major slip out of the
cut ropes, she swore to her Bholenath this was exactly what she would do. She would protect him, until the BSD came.
Clutching the dagger in her hand, Paro now looked into the eyes of the man she
was here to save. She was about to speak, to assure him that she was here to defend him, when he grabbed at her arms, staring into her eyes. Shock jangled
through her, when she saw his intensity, his total rabid focus on her. And,the prisoner, a man who had suffered so much he was unrecognizable still looked at her--fearful, protective, crazed. Even here, with the red mist of danger over them both,
all Rudra saw, was her. All Rudra cared about, was her.
And it was that precise moment when Paro fell into the chasm that was Major Rudra Pratap Ranawat, BSD,
Indian Army, Serial Number 543876.
******************************************
A voice as rough and torn as silk dragged over broken glass barely emerged from
the Major. Holding the heavy burden in her arms, Paro almost collapsed to the
floor, taking Rudra down with her. She tried to position herself so that she
would hit the ground and not him, but at the last moment he twisted around and
they landed with Rudra taking the brunt of their fall. Paro found that she was
weeping, but she could not wipe her eyes dry---he was in her arms. She had
managed to protect his head from hitting the ground, her arms were a band of
strength around his bloodied chest.
Paro heard the faint ghost of a laugh, a
puff of noise that poured across her skin like spring rain. The Major was
attempting to speak, coughing up blood, but still struggling to talk. It had to be something
urgent! A message to the General? Paro stifled her own cries, and bent her head
down to the broken man sprawled on the floor, to listen carefully to what Rudra
was trying so hard to say.
"Menne kuch din ke liye chutti liya aur sab ke sab BSD officers paagal ho gaya kya? Tuje yaha kon bheja? Kiss ka bheja fry ho gaya? Aur tu? Tu bhi itni bewakoof nikli ? Chala aya? Tu kya teri jaan khone ke liye itna bechain hai? Uss din encounter ke waqt mujhe yeh baat bol deti, maa kasam tujhe wahi goli maar deta! Tuje yaha kon bheja? Tu yeh bata. Abhi. Mujhe kiss kiss ki haddi tor na hai?Yeh kartut Aman ne kiya, na? Aman beta, tu to gaiye..."
(Eng:"So I decide to take a few days' holiday, and everyone at the BSD decides to
go stark, raving mad? Who the hell sent you in here? Who's brain overheated and
decided on this? And you? You turned out to be a fool, too? You just decided to
come here? Are you this desperate to die, you fool? You could have told me that
you wanted death this badly during the Encounter, I swear to God I would have
helped you out and shot you right there! Who sent you? Tell me! Who the hell do
I have to thrash, who's bones do I have to break for doing this? Its Aman,
right? Aman, beta...you are dead...")
There was no answer from the
woman on the ground. Rudra felt Paro shaking with sobs as she sat up, and
leaned over him. Softly, gently so as not to cause any of the seeping wounds on
his body to reopen, Paro guided him up. Letting him rest his head against her
own as she held him to herself, to give her strength to him. Rudra tried to
help as much as he could, but his legs were useless, and his arms had been
burnt and slashed so many times, he couldn't lift them up. Paro, looking into
his eyes, saw the flare of pain, and quickly looked down.
Tears fell onto
Rudra's arms now, as Paro sat up next to him, hoisting him up so that he could
lean against her soft body. Rudra resisted. He was in agony, bleeding freely,
the pain a constant reminder of his weakness. And still, he resisted. And then,
as he silently refused her help, Paro did the unthinkable.
Rudra heard Paro say, softly,almost beneath her breath... "Aapke liye nahi, sahi..lekin please, meri khatir??"
(Eng: "Not for you, of course not--but
please...for me?")
*******************************************
Rudra's eyes--wild, feral--snapped up, and locked with Paro's hazel ones, softly
beseeching, wet with her tears. One white
arm came around his shoulders, and Rudra finally allowed Paro to guide his head into
the soft cradle of her neck. Rudra closed his eyes, inhaling deeply for the
first time in days, breathing in the sandalwood and myrrh scent that was Paro. Another
soft arm now crept down, and lay protectively across his own. Rudra looked down
as well and found that they were holding hands, their fingers entwined, hands
fisted together.
His own strength had left him a long time back, but when they fell to the floor,
he had still positioned himself between her and the dungeon's door. He knew he
had reached the end, that there was nothing left within him to fight with and
protect her. But if the enemy came in, the first bullet, the knife attack or
blow would land on him first before it could get through to her.
That much, at least, he could still do.
********************************************
They sat there, huddled on the stone floor, as above them, Rudra heard the
faint sounds of a gun battle, of screams and churning chaos. The sounds of war,
of the BSD fighting with full strength against the maniacs of the Thakur's army
sounded very distant to him now. Like faint echoes of a discordant song playing
somewhere far away, the battle raged on. Inside the dungeon, in the oddly intimate
light of the fire-torch, Rudra and Paro
sat, leaning against each other, facing the door through which would come
either their deaths, or their salvation.
The Protector and the Prisoner waited, silently, entwined in each other's arms
for the Fates to decide on their fate. And above them, above the Haveli ringing
with gun powder and reeking with death, and far above the rocky Rajasthani
desert surrounding the village of Birpur, there rose a fierce new sun,
heralding a new dawn, and promising the beginning of a bright new day.
____________________________________________________
Yesterday and Tomorrow, Part 7 (Fears): https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/topic/3930183
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