"A little more rice?"
Mira scooped the small earthen rice pot with a brass ladle and emptied it's content on the brass plate laid infront of Batakrishna.
Batakrishna smiled and started to eat with renewed interest.

"And yours?" He asked, smiling, and Mira forwarded the small bowl of rice kheer infront.

"You eat, Choto Zamindar Babu, and tell me how the kheer is!"
Mira was smiling, and Batakrishna took the bowl of creamy desert and held it to his lips.

"Delicious", he remarked, " just like you."

"Issh!" Mira turned her face away, her coy demeanor making him smirk, and Batuk promptly held her right wrist in the grip of his left hand, their eyes meeting once again.

Despite the dark blue overcast, the sky has calmed considerably. The petrichor of the freshly soaked soil had filled up the atmosphere with it's raw earthiness. Mira had cooked a small meal, simple, yet fulfilling, and it was post afternoon that the duo had sat on the open shaded porch, with the little luncheon spread infront. Rice, fried brinjal, ghee, and a small bowl of kheer. Mira served the food with utmost tenderness, and Batuk ate heartily.

"Where's your food? Let's eat together." He smiled at her again, eating one more morsel.

"I'm fasting today."
Mira murmured, almost inaudibly, and lowered her face bashfully as if it was some happy revelation. Batuk frowned at her in confusion.

"Fasting? How?"
He now pushed the rice plate slowly a little away and looked at her in question.

"Ekadashi... The tithi isn't over yet." She murmured again, but fearfully this time, as her eyes didn't fail to observe how Batuk had pushed his plate aside.

"Choto Zamindar Babu, please eat... I'll eat later, I promise." She urged.

"No. You'll eat now." Batakrishna declared gravely.
"Bring your plate, and we'll eat together, I'm waiting."
He picked up the glass of water and poured a little on his palm, sprinkling it on the mud beside the plate, and Mira knew how it meant an abrupt hiatus. She looked at him fearfully.

"What happened? Get your food!" Batuk pressed.

Mira looked away.
"Eat Choto Zamindar Babu, I won't eat food," she swallowed, "there is no food."

"You won't eat, or there isn't any to eat? Which one?" He asked forcefully, a sharp unhappiness evident in his tone, and fearing the closure of their brief happiness, Mira breathed out a soft reply.

"Both."

Batuk sighed at her word.
"I know how to fix the latter Mira."
He hushed, and as Mira raised her eyes to look at him, she saw him holding the bowl of kheer infront, ready to feed her from it.

"Chi chi... Choto Zamindar Babu, it's a sin to even think of eating during Ekadashi, I'm a widow!" She gasped, trying to leave and Batuk held her arm with his free hand, making her sit once again.

"Eat Mira... I won't request you again."

"No... Please..." She resisted, and next, Batuk held her face in the cup of his left palm and pressed the bowl to her lips, smearing the white kheer on and around her mouth.
Mira gulped a bit of the food and then sighed softly.

"The hell too won't have a place for me Choto Zamindar Babu, for the sins I'm committing!"

"Sins?" Batuk was suddenly enraged.
"Eating kheer is a sin to you? And what about those men touching your hair? Forcing you to shave your head? Wasn't those sins too Mira? Isn't self torture a sin?" He shoved the bowl of kheer in Mira's hand and sat back in his place, looking away. In a moment his appetite looked like a distant dream, and the scanty rice grains left on the plate looked back mockingly at him.
"I should have known! No matter how much I try, you're he'll bent on destroying yourself", he huffed, "but know this Mira, you'll destroying me too in this process!"

"Choto Zamindar Babu?" Mira just left out a suppressed scream in response, as tears of hurt rolled down her eyes.

"Who decides what's sin? Those silly men who were eyeing you like hungry hounds? Who dictates what's right and what's wrong?"
Batuk continued to speak.
"Self torture is the biggest sin known to mankind! And, if there is a heaven and a hell somewhere out there, by torturing yourself you are just losing out on your golden ticket!"

Mira didn't reply, nor did she look up or made any attempts of wiping her tears, as with lowered face, she listened to what Batakrishna had to say.

"If God is our guardian, like a parent, then how is it fair to just assume he would be happy with all these rotten rituals meant for affliction? Which father wishes to see their children in pain Mira?"
He asked her, and this time she raised her head slowly.
His words were sharp, and the results made Mira slowly wipe her tears and move the kheer bowl to his lips.
Batuk turned to look at her, as with boasting eyes he saw her slowly sipping the content from the bowl, lowering her head and licking the corner of her lips once done.
A minute of silence, and Mira held the bowl to her lips again, emptying the kheer, and Batuk felt how hungry she had been!

"Shabash Mira!" Batuk cheered in elation.
Mira kept the bowl aside and wiped her mouth with the back of her palm.

"You're cheering as if I've won some medal." She murmured, half in jest of his sudden happiness, and half in complaint, and Batuk laughed out loud.

"Medal? Medal indeed Mira!" He grinned.
"You broke an age rotten old custom. You deserve no less than a medal now, and I'm sure if Dada would have been here, he'd have definitely given you one."

Mira smiled.
"Wearing a medal, straight to hell."

"Fine, I coaxed you to eat, if anyone is going to hell, it'd be me." He smiled too.

"Eat from my plate if that suits you, there's rice and ghee still. I've seen Bondita Bouthan doing that so many times." He prepared to get up and Mira took his glass and poured a little water on her palm in the pretext of washing her hand.

"She's his wife."

"So are you, my wife! Are you not?" He winked at her with his rhetorical question and Mira let out a sigh and started to eat.

"Rice on Ekadashi, I'll remember this day as long as I live." She smiled and murmured, putting small morsel of rice in her mouth, and Batuk jumped down the porch and moved towards the tubewell beside.

"Medal Mira Medal, a big gold Medal!" He laughed out loud.

Does the God really want me to be happy?
Mira contemplated.

*******************

There was a softness to Mira's appearance, Batakrishna had always thought, a kind of warmth married to a shyness, and it was this appearance that had stolen his heart first, not those dark large bewitching eyes, but the soft tenderness in them, not those red puffy quivering lips, but the motherly smile in them. It was the look of an honest soul and somewhere deep inside Batakrishna knew he had found his home.

It was late afternoon, Batakrishna was half lying down on the small cot, eyes closed and assuming him to be asleep, Mira tiptoed inside the room to grab a dry saree. She had taken an untimely bath post their little debated luncheon, as the argument had resulted in Batuk spilling kheer on her saree and hair.
A red checked gamcha was wrapped around her dampened long hair, and the soaked white saree was glued dangerously to her moist pale skin.
Unable to find an alternative, Mira moved in stealth and reached for the petite wooden rack where another of MeenaRani's white saree was hanging.
But the creaking sound of the old wooden Alanah made Batuk open his eyes at once.

"Mira?" He called lazily, and she shuddered in its abruptness.
"Did I scare you?" He asked, and Mira nodded her head in shame and hurriedly drew the saree from the rack.

"You took a bath? Now?" Batuk's eyes had narrowed on her, as more than the alluring seductive beauty, his eyes saw her flushed cheeks and reddened orbs, fearing the implications of her falling sick at that moment.

"I had rice on my hair." She murmured, preparing to run out, but Batuk was faster than her. He got up from the cot and stood infront of her, and then it caught his eyes, tiny specks of blood flowing down her nostrils.

"What happened?" He moved closer and held her chin up with his fingers, examining the cause of the blood.
His heart twitched at the sight.

The silver nose ring that old Jamuna had so dearly made her wear had tore away a good portion of her septum, and the fresh bath had opened up the blood clot from the wound.
Batuk sighed deeply, as with a portion of his washed dhoti he pressed her nose, attempting to stop the bleed.

Mira stirred once, and then clutched his arm, standing quietly infront.

"Breathe through your mouth Mira." He asked her, and the softly kindness in his voice made her heart melt.

"It isn't hurting." She smiled, and that very smile of her made Batuk's heart twitch again.

How can she smile with such pain?

"You are a brave girl Mira, I give you that, but you'll have to learn how to embrace life with open arms." He wiped the last trace of blood and stepped away, giving her the needed space to breath, and Mira looked at him with wonder-filled eyes.

How come out of nowhere, this godlike man was tending to her wounds! Who was this handsome prince opening his heart to her, ready to do anything to make her happy!
It was too good to be reality, for reality had always been painful...

"What are you staring at?" Batuk waved his hand infront of her eyes and smiled.

"You are a good person." She murmured, and then lowered her head slowly.

"Am I? Are you sure?" Batuk however continued to look at her with a meaningful smile, the naughty smirk plastered to his lips, as in no time he pulled open the gamcha from her head, letting her damp traces fall freely all over her shoulder.

Mira gasped out loud.

"There is a saying in English Mira", Batuk pulled her closer by her arm, and Mira moved forward like a ragged doll.
Batuk put the gamcha around her head and started to massage her hair to dry.
"Prevention is better than cure."
He smirked again.

"Meaning?" Mira swallowed, asking almost inaudibly.

"It means, it's better to be cautious before, than to fall sick, and I can clearly see how you are about to fall sick if we don't take care of you right away."
He kept drying her hair, and Mira closed her eyes to beat the sensation of what his touch were doing to her.
Batuk kept massaging her scalp, his touch slowly moving down from the top of her head to the back of her neck, and Mira shivered a little.

"You're shivering, let's get you changed Mira." He murmured, reaching out for the dry white saree, and Mira looked away bashfully this time.

"I'll change myself."

Batuk was about to say something in the flow of words, but then he frowned for a second, chuckling inaudibly as her words sank in his senses.
"Ofcourse, you will." He nodded his head and handed her the saree, his eyes looking away awkwardly, a little bashfully perhaps.
"I'll turn around."

It wasn't raining, and Batakrishna could have easily gone outside that room to give Mira the space to change. Mira could have gone to the kitchen to find her seclusion too, but none did likewise.
The undeniable tension and urgency between them was attracting and repulsing the same time, two opposite poles of a magnet, dying to unite, yet held apart by an unseen force called society... the two helpless souls battling their best every moment, fighting hard not to collapse.

But again, it's the power of pure love that knows no bounds, no customs, no strongholds of societal norms. And Batakrishna Roy Chowdhury had seeked that love in his heart.

Mira fumbled with her soaked saree for a few seconds, and then her eyes fell on the broad shoulders of the man turning around, his slightly long silk-like dark hair falling on his neck, his arms folded to his chest, and his head lowered a bit, giving a good view of his unblemished back and spine.
The white half sleeve vest had never done justice in hiding Batakrishna's attractive features, and Mira admired with wide eyes how his perfectly toned muscles formed a V towards his waist.
She gulped.

"Are you done?" Batakrishna asked, but Mira didn't reply, her eyes mesmerized at his slender spine, and how his muscles flexed everytime he moved. His skin felt like molten gold, forbidden yet alluring, and before she could realise, Mira raised her hand up to touch him.

"Mira, are you..."
Batakrishna couldn't complete, as a soft touch on his back made him tremble, and then he turned around, slowly.

"Mira..." He breathed.

Some moments birth strong potency of human emotions, something unfathomable to the rational senses of man, but yet those potent moments gives new dimensions to lives, changing and challenging everything that they had known till then.

Batakrishna saw Mira, but not the sweet innocent one whom he had seen a few moments before, shivering in cold. This was a new Mira, with dark passionate eyes piercing his soul, rosy lips quivering in need, calm yet capable of raising a calamity in his entire being. Her dishevelled dampened hair had cascaded down her shoulders, reaching below her waist, and she made no attempts to cover the transparency of the soaked white saree stuck to her breasts.
Batakrishna let his eyes slip from her face for a moment, her hardened nubs protruding from the damp cloth beckoning at him invitingly, and further below following her midriff he saw how deep her navel was!

"Ba.. Batakrishna Babu..."
Mira's lips moved, in faint attempt of pronouncing his name, and Batuk looked up at her face once again, an unsubdued tornado of desire raising in his heart in full ferocity.

Mira too had felt the searing heat of his glance on the forbidden crevices of her body.

Batakrishna didn't respond, nor did he make any attempts of touching her either.
Mira touched him in turn, she held his left hand gently and raised it to her face, making him touch her flushed cheek.
Batakrishna felt a desirable numbness in his fingers.

"I'll go with you... But, pro... promise me that you'll never leave... leave me alone, ever."
Mira had gathered all her courage to murmur the words, and Batakrishna saw her lips move. He felt as if his heartbeat was being orchestrated along with those words.
No more invitation was needed, and Batuk cupped her face with a violent urgency and pushed her against the clay wall, forming damp blotches on it. Mira closed her eyes at once.

Batakrishna was breathing hard, and so was Mira.
"I will cheat death to be with you Mira, I promise... Nothing can separate me in this universe, nothing!" He whispered the words in her mouth, and as Mira gasped, he pressed his lips against hers, pressing her soaked body with his, first violently and then releasing the force to make it pleasurable.
His lips too did the same to her senses.

Mira lifted her toes to reach closer to him, and he gripped her tightly in his arms, the wet saree dampening his dhoti in ways beyond his wildest imagination.
Mira whimpered, and Batuk groaned in their kiss, and then he slowly started to suck her lips, waging a sweet war with her hot tongue.
Mira felt her knees giving in, and Batakrishna held her tighter.
She trembled, and he deepened the kiss.

"Miraa..." He moaned her name once, breaking away from the kiss, and then diving back into the sweetness of her mouth once again. Her breasts were pressed against his firm chest, and he felt every bit of her. Mira felt him too, his hardness pressing below her stomach, and at the realisation of what it was, she felt an eccentric shiver run down her spine, flooding her core in response. 

Batakrishna finally broke from the kiss, leaving both breathless, but his grip on her body was still transmitting heat from him to her.
Mira opened her eyes, and saw Batuk smiling, and with his free hand he took the dry saree tangled in Mira's arm and held it up between them.

"Let me help you." He suggested, his voice hoarse, and Mira gulped in response like a powerless body.

"Turn around." He commanded her, moving an inch away, and Mira followed his words.
Batakrishna inhaled sharply and then let the soaked saree slide down her bare silky shoulder, gliding it further down her body, bunching at her waist. Mira stood still, and in no time she felt the dry saree being wrapped around her upper body, and Batuk wrapped his arms around her body over it, letting her sink in to the warmth of the soft cotton.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, and Mira gulped again, her sensing muddling up, her mind unable to conjure words in response.
Batuk's mouth had found refuge on the crook of Mira's neck from behind, and the way he sucked on her freshly bathed skin made her lose her mind.
Mira moaned, leaning on his body, and Batuk pressed his hands against the wall to support Mira's wiggling frame caged in between his arms, pressed against his chest.

"I can't express how happy I am that you've decided to come with me on your own... I'll get your ticket right away Mira, from the Station."
He let go of her, giving her time to settle, and then he moved a few steps back, turning around once again. Mira exhaled softly at this loss. She took time to get rid of the damp saree and wrap the dry one around her body properly, and then she slowly looked up to see him again.

Batuk continued to speak.
"I'll get the motor fueled up, and then I'll go to the railway station today itself", he paused, smiling, "but before that I've something to give you Mira." He spoke softly, and it made Mira walk around and stand infront of him. She saw his eyes closed, and it made her smile.

"What's that?" She murmured.

Batakrishna didn't respond verbally, instead he opened his eyes and leaned forward, planting a kiss on her cheek, and Mira blushed profusely like a new bride.

"Wait here." He commanded.

....................................................

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