The sweetest habits are which you have towards a person.

****

Today a grand celebration was to be held in Ishgar. People from faraway lands had come to take part in the happiness, even the Gandharian royals. Everybody was welcome, both friends and foes.

Rajan Rudra sat together with Indumala, listening to her talk about magic and her guild. They stole the little free time that they had before the initiation of the feast and spent talking about whatever felt good and sunny.

"Baba is one of the strongest ones of the guild. People say his real power is very scary." Indumala gesticulated with her hands. "Though he isn't scary to me. Yes, I have got my fair share of scolding and smacking, but he is my best Baba."

"He can be scary, yes. I have seen that side," Rudra whispered. "I am myself intimidated by that side."

"Really?"

"Mhm," he hummed. "He is like your god Shiva. Cool and calm, and then," he clicked his fingers, "a Master of Tandava."

Indumala pouted. "Why do you say as if he isn't your Shiva? Isn't there any God you believe in?"

"Will you be judgemental if I don't?"

"No. You are free to choose your path, but we don't easily find someone who doesn't believe in divinity."

"Maybe I do believe in someone," Rudra said, watching his ruby rings sparkle in the light. "Only one."

"Who is that deity?"

Rudra smiled, his husky voice toned down to a mellifluous hush. "Kalika," he spelled her name delicately, as if a small mistake could snatch her beatific perfection away, all because of his fault.

A smile tugged at Indumala's lips. "You... you love Kalika?"

"I do. I feel like she has been wronged." Rudra's pensive gaze heavily drooped under crooked brows. "I see her suffer everyday. I see her own kind malign her. I know, maybe I do not have the right to protect her, but I want to do it. She walks with ghosts and ghouls, skulls of demons hanging around her neck. Maybe I am one of them. I would gladly be."

"You may even be the hibiscus she loves, or the crown atop her head."

Rudra grinned. "Indu, I cannot see myself as that great. I know I boast about myself a lot. I have to do it. But honestly, Indu, I am no equal to her. I... I, uh, I love her," he said, blushing intensely. "It isn't wrong, is it?"

The chime of Indumala's merry laughter was a sweet stroke of golden and orange in his dull blue and black room. It was a spark of life, a blast of energies in his ethereal dark cosmos, like the first seed of creation sprouting courageously. She had not a care in the world. She let out her surprise in the most innocent way possible, so oblivious to the cruel stare of the world.

Rudra couldn't help but feel softened. His icy heart thawed, melting at the intangible caress of her voice. He had seen women giggle with their mouths covered, waving their hands and suppressing their joy. But Indumala, she indeed laughed like Kalika, open and free, trumpeting the satisfaction of the soul. Rudra saw stars in daylight. This sight was going to be painted in his mind, forever.

"Of course there's nothing wrong if you love Kalika. It's so adorable, Rajan. She loves you too, I know."

"Does she?"

"Yes!" Indumala chuckled. The copper earrings on her ears dangled as her head shook. Her open hair resembled a forest, so dense that one would lose the direction of his fingers if they allowed themselves to be lost in their glory. She wore that same blouse today, the one Rudra had found, paired with a white antariya that reached upto her knees.

Rudra could still get that smell emanating from her body. Unable to hold his curiosity, he asked, "From where did you get the perfume of Brahmakamal? It's rare. Not even I own it."

Indumala smirked, flicking back her hair. "So I am the only one in Ishgar who has it?"

"Yes?"

"I won't tell you."

Rudra clicked his tongue. "Indu, you are merciless. A man compliments your perfume and you are denying him knowledge."

"Why should I tell you? I only want it for myself." Indumala crossed her arms. "Alright. Baba got one from me. He asked me to keep it a secret, so you shouldn't tell anyone."

"I am so glad to know this secret." Rudra looked away and raised a brow. So maybe Aryamna is hiding something from me.

"Also, did you just decide to call me Indu?"

"Huh? Yes, yes. I did. I hope you don't mind?"

"Why would I? Everyone calls me Indu. Even Mataraj Pushyaar and Dilrobar did."

"You already befriended them?"

"Maybe." She winked.

"I am stupefied by your skills. Those two are hard nuts to crack, and you just won them over so easily."

"By the way, I am sorry."

Rudra smacked his head. "Indu, you have this very bad habit of telling sorry all the time. You are making me guilty as a friend."

She fidgeted with the vermillion kayabandhi. "No, I am really sorry. I misunderstood you and Dilrobar."

Rudra's brows curved at the corners, his lips parted. He gulped. "You mean?"

"Everyone... everyone tells things about you outside the palace, and even here. I was fooled. I am sorry for labelling you and Dilrobar as some, unlawful or lustful couple. I didn't understand it was more complex."

"Did Dilrobar tell you everything?"

"She didn't. But she said she is your ally and... very less to you. She seems pretty afraid of you."

Rudra clenched his fist and looked towards the window. His knuckles turned pale. The veins on his neck were starkly visible, blood gushing through them. He tried to control his violent emotions. Indumala gently grasped his fist, to which he gazed back. "Rajan, did you...did you hurt her?" He just silently stared at his bodyguard while holding a stoic expression. Indumala heaved a sigh. "Rajan, you say you love Kalika, but then you hurt a woman. It isn't right, is it?"

"Indu, will you ever spare a killer?"

Now, it was her turn to be bewildered.  She gasped. "How...how does this come in between?"

Rudra clasped her hand. His piercing ebony eyes messed around with her furiously beating heart. "Yes, I accept I have tortured her, but I only did it as a form of punishment. She has harmed a lot of people in the past. She wasn't so sublime before. She was, to say in few words, a killer."

"We all are monsters, aren't we? And yet we point each other out."

Rudra scoffed. "Indu, don't forgive a woman because she is a woman. Forgive her when she deserves it."

"But you implied she has changed. You know, redemption is so tough without death. Dilrobar would have been blessed had she died and got a blank page to work on. But she has to continue the journey with all the bad memories. She wants to be better but she cannot be."

"I am not a saint, Indu." His voice was hoarse. "I might eventually forgive her, but give me time." He studied her slender fingers. Her palm was so small compared to his. "You said we all are monsters. What is monstrous about you?"

Indumala flinched. Rudra's gaze widened. He pressed her hands assuringly. "You don't look fine. It's alright if you don't want to share. I won't coerce you to."

"Maybe I was a very bad person in the past, Rajan. In my last life."

Rudra felt someone crushing his windpipe. "Why?"

She wriggled her toes. "Some people say I am cursed. I wasn't supposed to live, Rajan, and still I live." She held her breath, precious life stuck in her rumbling throat, on the verge of escaping the body. "Curses shouldn't live–"

Before she knew, she was buried in his chest, like a peony in the shelter of a banyan's shade. He wrapped his sturdy arms around her, running his fingers through her hair. "Don't ever say such things. You may be a lot– irritating, immature, foolish– but not a curse." It hit him, the way she called herself unwanted. He felt the same way, but he could never realise that this bubbly woman in front of him hid pain? What was behind her kind smile?

"I wasn't supposed to be happy and alive. I should have died with the plague." She whimpered like a baby in his arms. "Baba was disrespected because of me. They refused to help him because he wanted to save me. I was just a child, Rajan, I didn't know what it meant to be alive. I didn't understand anything. But I wanted to be happy, as long as I was capable of seeing the colours and feeling my Baba."

"He cherishes you, doesn't he?"

"He does, he loves me the most. I will always love him too."

"Indu, don't ever call yourself a curse, alright? Many people love you, admire you. People love you more than they do me! You are more famous than the Rajan himself."

Indumala sniffled. "That's stupid."

"I know I am stupid, Indu, but it doesn't mean you can call the Rajan anything. I wonder who your parents were– probably some really badass leaders with a dagger instead of a mouth."

"I can say the same things about you."

"I don't imagine us as brother and sister."

"I didn't mean that."

And then an awkward silence. Rudra still held her in his embrace, and she sniffed back her tears. Just days ago she was thinking of hugging him, and now she could smell him so closely. "What perfume do you use?" she asked in her whining nasal voice.

Rudra's cheeks reddened when he suddenly became aware of their proximity– their bodies, albeit it could be called friendly, bound so closely; her breath fanning his chest, and her tears on his clothes. "I-I use lavender."

"Simple but nice. Unlike you."

"I am neither simple nor nice?"

"You called me foolish moments ago, so I won't be using any good words for you."

Rudra pulled her and made Indumala face him. "You are..." No, he had no words. What was she? Indumala made him angry, happy and sad at the same time. She, even if he was reluctant to admit, had a control over him. "Nevermind. I won't argue with you."

Interrupting their special moment, a knock alerted the presence of another individual. And out of all the people, it had to be Senapati Aryamna. Even if Indumala was sure she saw a flash of disgust ran across his face, she tried to act sweet and, as the Rajan had called her, foolish. Though Rudra himself immediately removed his hands out of fear. "What is it, Aryamna?" he asked.

The Senapati observed the two. He was promptly tricked by the pristine smile of his daughter, though Rudra's discomfort was easily visible. Something was happening before he came to this room. He balled his hand into a fist behind his back. He was a father now, and he ought to have his concerns, even if he was powerless before fate.

"A senior lady wanted to speak to you. We tried to tell her that it's not possible to meet the Rajan, but she was stubborn. So, I have brought her here."

Indumala was worried that the Rajan would not behave like a gentleman to the old lady, but she didn't want to appear condescending by advising the Rajan in front of the Senapati.

Rudra recognised the old lady as the one whom he had asked to gift Ishvara the veil on the latter's marriage. She was one of the very few people who lived in Ishgar since the olden days, from before the time of destruction. "I know you," he said.

The old lady smiled. She carried a bag, out of which she brought out a bowl closed tightly with a lid. "Take this."

"For me?"

"Yes."

Rudra was overwhelmed. "Well, thank you. Thank you for coming all the way and giving me something."

"I have known you since the time you were a different person, Rajan. When the people didn't call you a Rajan yet."

Aryamna and Rudra stiffened like a log. The former knew he was forgotten like a fairy tale, now a mere folktale murmured by women to their children at night. He was a starry dream who didn't live, unfortunately. And Rudra, he was the living epitome of transformation. From light to dark, his tale was of not love but of heartbreak and revenge. He fell down from the skies, a deity whose wings had been clipped, bleeding a river. He was constituted of agony and melancholy, everything that made him undesirable.

"You are like a son to me," the woman said. "I have many questions for you, because of what you do and what is happening. Alas, the curses have ruined my memory as well. Sometimes I remember things and then they vanish. But it's a good day. One of the curses have gone. It rained."

"Indeed, it's a happy time."

"I thought, then why not cheer you up a little? After all, I know what all you have went through."

Indumala listened to her words with keen attention. She knew there was one curse on Ishgar, but this woman was talking about multiple. And the lady knows about the Rajan's past... from the time when he wasn't a Rajan still.

One day, Indumala would ask him to tell his story.

Rudra opened the lid and his face beamed more than the brilliance of Ushas. It was his favourite fig curry. He gestured Indumala to hold the thing, and then he knelt down and touched the woman's feet. "It is because of you few that I still have the strength to rule, or else I would have extinguished long back."

"You won't, Rajan. She won't let you." The woman smiled at Indumala, then placed her hand over Rudra's head. "Sixteen years ago, a child came to the world crying. As I said, I don't remember much and the curses have taken a hold on me too. But by the greatness of Shiva, I feel things intuitively. Your wait will be over, Rajan. You will attain liberation."

"If it's death you speak of, I shall happily accept it."

"Death is too cheap a gift. You will be pleased with more."

When Rudra stood up, his face was smeared with tears. "Aryamna, please take her around the palace and give her something to eat. Be hospitable."

"Ah, yes. Maa, come with me."

Rudra sat on his bed and gobbled up the figs. Indumala beheld in amazement. She discovered something new about him everyday. He was a mesmerising mystery. "Will you tell me one day what was it like sixteen years back?"

Rudra took some time to answer. "I will. When I feel the time is right."

"I will wait. I am eager to know. Sixteen years back, when the plague happened, I was just born. But I don't want to think about it."

Rudra feigned to be unaffected, but millions of questions swirled inside his mind. He was doubting everything and anything. What he knew for sure was this connection, this undeniably strong bond that was growing between him and Indumala.

Perhaps, Indumala was called a cursed child and hated by many because of her ugly birthmark. Maybe that made her feel grisly and revolting.

He finished the fig curry and then washed his hands and mouth. Soon, a guard came and informed that it was time for the announcement. The crowd was anticipating him.

"Indumala, let's go. The feast will begin."

"So a curse finally ends, doesn't it? I don't know about the other curses which the woman mentioned." She took her spear and looked up at the Rajan. "But I am happy that one is going away. You must have witnessed Ishgar becoming sadder with time. Now, you will see it glow in bliss."

"Will I?"

She raised her hand. "I bless you!"

Rudra fondled her soft cheeks. "You will make anybody melt." Just like her, isn't it? Or is it her...

Is it you, my love?

Is my wait finally over? Let's not rush this, maybe. Let's see where time takes us, Indu. Because I have waited for years, and maybe I can for a little longer.

"And this time, when Ishgar ushers in peace and prosperity, you will be there with me, Indu."