~Dangerous.~

"Take another drag, turn me to ashes.

Ready for another lie."

- Diet Mountain Dew

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The gift Kanak had received from Tarush was expensive.

Kanak was in her room, sitting on her bed.

Her mind noted it again and again as her fingers traced the detailed design and carvings of those golden anklets.

Sometimes, the sight of jewelry, of luxuries, reminded her of her childhood, of her mother's past - something she barely remembered beyond a few memories.

And, among the set of those blurry memories, she couldn't help but recall something her mother once said: "Yeh gehne bohot khoobsurat lagte hain, beti, lekin inka aasli bojh kabhi kabhi dikhai nahi deta."

(These jewels look beautiful, but their real weight sometimes remains unseen.)

"It really is heavy," Kanak mumbled to herself. "For now only physically."

The anklet jingled as she tried it around one of her ankles. It looked beautiful, but too expensive, something a girl like Kanak would never wear. Jewelry wasn't her thing.

Honestly, sometimes the sight of opulence alone makes her stomach twist - maybe because of the place she was born into. In that place, riches were used to hide misery, to lure, to sell.

Not wealth or status, the riches of her childhood symbolized misfortune, helplessness, greed, and lust.

"Kanak?" A soft knock on the door broke the chain of her thoughts, and Kanak glanced at the door, putting the anklet away.

"The door is open, Mosi," she called out, adjusting her shawl as Bahaar walked in, holding a bag.

"Actually, I picked up your clothes from the darzi when I went out," she said, placing the bag on a small wooden stool beside the bed. "Woh naya anarkali suit bhi tayar ho gaya hai. Gaajri rang ka, jo tujhe pasand aaya tha."

(That new anarkali suit is ready. The peach-colored one you liked.)

"Shukriya, Mosi. Umeed hai issmein aapne kuch aur naaye kapde nahi chupaye," Kanak glanced at the big bag in amusement, already sure that it had more clothes than what she herself had actually bought.

(Thank you, Aunty. Hopefully, you haven't stashed any new clothes in here.)

"And even if I have, so what? You hardly buy anything for yourself." Bahaar allowed herself to chuckle, taking a seat on the bed, her eyes stopping upon the anklets. "And these? From where did you get them?"

"Tarush gave them, saying it's a gift from Mosa ji. He liked my performance at the party." Kanak just shrugged lightly, lips pressing into a thin line as Bahaar picked up one of the anklets, appraising it.

"These are so beautiful. Wear them tomorrow, okay?"

"Hm."

However, she only got a dubious nod in response; Kanak wasn't going to wear them. They were a gift, so she would just keep them carefully tucked away somewhere in her cupboard.

"So, you're leaving tomorrow?" Kanak asked, pulling her shawl closer. She knew Tarush couldn't leave the estate unattended, so it was Bahaar who had to accompany Charan for his health treatments to Delhi tomorrow.

"Yes, gudiya. And don't worry, Sudha will be here with you; you won't be alone." Bahaar's hand reached out, patting her head. "I'll also try to be back soon."

Kanak lowered her gaze, the sight of the gold anklets reminding her about her previous questions --- questions about her mother, her past, and her father. A man whose name even wasn't known to her. Her mother never told her, and she never dared to ask either.

But tonight, she gathered a little courage to question her aunt.

"Mausi?" She called, looking at Bahaar. "Can you tell me about Maa? Anything you know. She actually never told me about those things. Can you tell me?"

Bahaar stilled at the question, her smile stiffening as she pulled her arm back. "Is everything alright, Kanak? You asked about this out of nowhere."

"I'm alright. It's just. . . ." Kanak's throat seemed to tighten with emotions. "I wanted to know more about Maa. More than I know. I...I want to know about my father also."

Bahaar inhaled slowly, forcing herself to smile, looking at her merely curious niece, her mind going through numerous memories.

_____________

[Past]

(Lahore, India - 1938)

The celebration at the Nawab's haveli was grand, as expected.

After all, the Nawab and his Begum had been blessed with a son, an heir, and all of Lahore's aristocracy had gathered under one roof to celebrate the child's birth.

And Sandhya hated such nights, not the happy parties, but all that these kinds of celebrations required from Tawaifs like her.

She had danced and sung in a lot of mehfils, before men of wealth and power for as long as she could recall.

She had worn the first-class silks, adorned herself with the most luxurious jewelry, and performed beneath the golden chandeliers, yet none of it mattered.

She hated these parties, these luxuries, this life, and the suffocation that came with it.

She hated these gilded cages of luxury, the way men looked at her as if she was just an ornament meant for their amusement, a puppet tied with the strings of their whim.

That's why, she performed in Nawab's party as demanded, till the music faded, till her feet ached.

She had danced enough. She had smiled enough, so now she was leaving.

She was finally done, at least for tonight.

Her heavy ghaghra moved around her feet, the weight of heavy bangles around her wrists and her ghungroos, still tied to her ankles, let out soft chimes with every step she took --- all these were not the signs of beauty to her.

They were shackles, carefully crafted and impossible to break.

With a relieved sigh, she adjusted her garnished dupatta over her head, urging her feet to move faster towards her tanga that stood just a little away, at the entrance of the courtyard.

"Miss! You dropped this."

However, just as she reached for the handle of the tanga's door, a voice, smooth and velvety but unfamiliar, called out from behind.

And she turned swiftly, her ghungroos jingling along.

A man stood a countable steps away, tall, broad-shouldered, and of a powerful physique, dressed in a well-pressed suit.

The dull light of the lanterns visualized his features to her eyes --- pale skin, high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and soft blue eyes.

A foreigner. A British.

Her kohl-framed eyes moved down to his outstretched hand, and she saw the small gold jhumka dangling from his fingers.

Her jhumka.

The British man took a slow step closer, holding out the earring. "I believe this belongs to you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Present]

(A few days later)

In the deep woods of the Maurya estate, a harsh caw of a lone crow echoed as it flew against the dull and ashen sky - a shade that perfectly matched the eyes of the estate's young owner.

Somewhere in those woods, Tarush was sitting on a large rock as he exhaled slowly, his breath turning to smoke-like before disappearing into nothing while his gloved fingers moved over the polished metal of his rifle, checking every part with dexterity.

There was silence persisting in the woods except for the occasional susurration and quiet noise of the servants preparing for the hunt, releasing animals into the dense forest.

"Be patient, Ranja." Tarush spared a glance at his horse, who stood tied to a nearby tree, shifting its hooves against the ground as if impatient.

As the horse soon stilled, Tarush went back to examining his hunting gun.

It had been days since he had last gone hunting. Too long. The estate and business matters took a lot of his time.

Fortunately, he found himself free today, and though it was cold, the day also seemed perfect for a thrilling hunt --- or he had thought before something reached his ears. A voice.

Not just any voice.

Her voice.

A soft and familiar sound put his moments to rest as he turned, head tilted to clear out the direction of the sound.

It was Kanak and the servant girl of Bahaar - Sudha.

Tarush frowned; he had not expected anyone to be this deep into the estate woods so early in the morning, especially her.

Kanak didn't usually wander in places where she could run into him, except the library these days. But even there, she tries her best to visit only when he is absent.

His hold tightened around the gun, while the low, hushed sound of their conversation drove through the clearing.

He knew he should stay where he was. He should ignore it.

He knew he shouldn't move. He shouldn't rise from his place on the rock, shouldn't take any step forward.

But he did.

Like the uncontrolled waves reaching out to the shore, he moved, his steps careful and soundless against the damp and frosty ground.

And soon enough, he spotted them, stopping behind the trees to stay hidden from being seen.

Oh, how long has it been since he saw her?

He had made sure, tried, to stay away, to push away whatever ridiculous distraction she had become.

And those attempts had worked, most of the time at least.

Until today, he failed. Again.

It was alright, everything was alright when she wasn't in sight, and it was just one look it took.

One look, to ruin it all and tighten his chest with this strange emotion. This feeling, that grows, turning worse, each passing day whenever he thinks about her.

Go back.

Go back and continue.

Something in his mind suggested, but he stayed where he was, watching as both the girls stood at the edge of a lotus pond.

The water in the pond was dark and motionless, mirroring the smoky sky above, its surface troubled only by the floating lotuses of both pale pink and white color.

He didn't hear exactly what Sudha said to Kanak, but he did see when Kanak let out a giggle in response before she slipped the shawl away from her shoulders and handed it to Sudha.

Then, she stepped into the water without any second thought or hesitation. And Tarush felt his breath catch in his throat, not even knowing the reason --- was it because of the cold air or the sight before him?

His fingers twitched around the rifle in his hand, seeing her sink further in the pond, the water soon reaching just below her knees.

A droplet, hurled up by those movements, landed against the side of her face before it trailed down, slipping over the curve of her jaw, down her neck and --- Tarush swallowed, forcing himself to look away.

What was he doing?

It was just water. Just a mere lotus pond.

Just Kanak.

Still, his heartbeat was unsteady, thoughts unruly, and mind traitorous as it immersed in the sight of her standing knee-deep in the cold water, plucking out lotuses for God knows what.

Meanwhile, instead of turning and leaving, he waited as she plucked away a few more blossoms before stepping out of the pond, shivering and half drenched.

He waited again as she handed the flowers to Sudha and wrapped herself back in her shawl, to disappear from his view --- until she suddenly stopped, glancing at the side from where a rabbit hopped out, jumping towards the pond.

Tarush didn't think and raised his rifle instead; without any doubt, it was one of the animals meant for the hunt.

It was meant to be killed, so he should shoot.

It would be effortless. One pull, one shot.

But. Oh, but.

The last time he had done this, Kanak had run away from him, scared.

He remembered that look in her blue eyes, those tears.

He remembered it all - Kanak, petrified of him.

Kanak, wide-eyed, backing away from him as if he were a monster.

Kanak, doing everything to avoid him ever since.

Shoot it.

Shoot it, and this weird feeling will also end. Your world will be intact.

Something within reminded him, and he adjusted his aim but still found a hesitancy in his fingers; if he pulled the trigger now, she wouldn't just run away from him again.

She would never come near him again.

Never.

Sharply, he exhaled through his nose, and then he lowered the gun, slowly. His jaw clenched at his own incertitude; this was dangerous.

She was dangerous.

She wasn't a weapon. No, she was a silent inferno.

And, if he didn't do anything or didn't back away in time, she would consume him whole.

That's why, without another glance, he turned away and strode back to his previous spot, where the servants stood waiting, all done with the hunt's preparation.

His jaw was tensed, thoughts restless, conflicted.

What the hell was this?

Why couldn't he just shoot?

Why couldn't he just rid himself of this? This?

With a sharp sigh, he pulled Ranja's reins free. "Ranja ko wapas astable le jao," he ordered, and the stable boy quickly stepped out to take the reins from him.

(Take Ranja back to the stable.)

"But the hunt?" One man questioned.

"I'm not hunting today." Tarush dismissed him abruptly, pulling one of his gloves off and throwing it on the ground.

The leather landed with a muted thud against the damp earth. His movements were apparently entwined with frustration as he ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling those perfectly styled locks.

"My mind is elsewhere," he added more. His voice came off as clipped; Kanak made him feel weak, distracted even.

And he hated being weak.

This isn't good.

Heaving another sigh --- actually a disguised scoff --- he rested his rifle on his shoulder and walked away without any other word, leaving the confused servants behind.

For the first time in his life, Tarush Maurya abandoned a hunt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The puja ki thali in Kanak's hands was still warm, occupied with freshly made prasaad ladoos.

Usually, it was Sudha or Bahaar who distributed the prasaad after the puja, but today, Sudha had some work to do and Bahaar was away, so Kanak was doing the task.

She didn't mind. It gave her something to do, something other than avoiding the presence that haunts the badi haveli.

As she moved across the estate, handing some share of prasaad to anyone she saw, something tiny also followed her - a rabbit.

She had found the little animal this morning when she went into the estate's woods to pick up some lotus blooms for the puja.

But when Sudha had mentioned Tarush's hunt, Kanak felt bad for the bunny, recalling how he shot the poor bunny right in front of her when he was hunting the last time and she could do nothing to save the helpless creature --- so, she had scooped this rabbit into her arms and brought it back with her.

And now, it followed her, its tiny paws moving against the ground, ears and nose twitching as it hopped closer every time she stopped to give out prasaad.

"Khargosh jii, can you stop following me now?" Kanak sighed, pausing to glance down at it. No matter how endearing it was, she couldn't let it follow her to the badi haveli. "Go away from here."

(Mr. Rabbit)

The rabbit, of course, did nothing of the sort and resumed his 'follow his pretty savior around' mission.

Shaking her head, Kanak stepped on, adjusting her shawl on her shoulders as she neared the grand steps of the main bungalow.

But she stopped right at the entrance; this was the part she dreaded. The prasaad had to be given to every member of the household, including --- she didn't even let the thought form.

Maybe he wouldn't be there.

She hoped, stepping further, grip tightening around the thali before she turned for the last time to warn the oblivious bunny. "Tum yahi ruko; tum aandar nahi aa sakte."

(You stay here; you can't come inside.)

"Uss daanav ne tumhe dekh liya toh. . . ." She couldn't help but shiver in fear. "Toh goli se mardega."

(If that demon saw you, he'd kill you with a bullet.)

"Daanav?"

(Demon?)

Suddenly, the sound of a known, deep, and teasing voice, coming from right behind brought her to a halt, caught off guard.

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➡️ Next Update = Next Wednesday

(if the target is completed by then ofc).

And, I hope you all are also curious about Sandhya's past (Kanak's mother). Do note that it impacts the present and Kanak's life.

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