Kama: Liberation (Vol-I)

Chapter 23: Three Bonds

A brother to you is what Lakshman is to Sita.

****

Indumala had brought Ishvara to her room. Usually, it would be found in a mess- clothes piling on the floor, the sattu container left open carelessly, only the weapons, which she respected a lot, would be in place. But today she had kept aside her spears and swords and shields.

The golden curtains were moved to let in sunshine, which lighted up the carvings of beautiful women on the reddish brown walls. Some of them poured water from a pot and some stood with garlands around their neck. Even if it was the room of a warrior, it celebrated the delicate feminine without any shame or low confidence. Glossy green ferns and houseplants swayed in the corners of the room, their springy movements creating a dance to the melody of the silent breeze. In the middle was a bed over which lay a freshly washed bedsheet.

"I didn't sleep on a bed ever," Indumala nervously chuckled. "It was funny when I finally got one here in the palace."

Ishvara did have a bed in Gandhar, and plenty of clothes and accessories. What she lacked was love.

She was surprised by the humble livelihood of her husband and Indumala. They were so far away from luxuries and yet happy.

"Let us sit." Indumala invited Ishvara to come and join her on the bed. "I want to talk to you about many things but I don't know where to start."

Ishvara and Indumala sat face-to-face, like two sakhis meeting after a long time. Indeed, a lot was there to share. After all, they were far from each other for so long. Not just days or years. They were separated by death, culmination of one birth leading to another.

"How about we begin with you? I can tell something about myself and you can tell me about yourself," Ishvara suggested.

Indumala remembered the Rajan's words. She couldn't ask anything about her Maa's past. She would just agree to whatever she had to say. "Baba found me during the plague. They said my parents died or, maybe they left me." Indumala bit her lips. "The plague was inside me too. I shouldn't have survived being such a fragile child, but I did."

Ishvara admired the golden shine of Indumala's sorrel skin. Even if she was adopted, her skin was as gorgeous as her husband's. There was a sheen of tears in the bodyguard's eyes, hidden behind a thick veil of eyelashes. The princess was enraptured by the beauty of that pair. Mirrors to Indumala's soul, she found that they eerily matched her own doe-shaped eyes, even the colour. Honey swirled in Indumala's brown pupils.

"The plague destroyed many lives. I also lost most of my family." Ishvara touched her belly. Her baby- where was the it now?

The marks on her body said the child was taken out before time. Maybe because she was sick with the plague and they had to save the life before it succumbed to death. As of Aryamna, whom she now knew to be connected to her past, where was he then?

She didn't want to think about the returning memories but she had to. They pulled her towards them like a moth running after the flame of a candle.

The Gandhar royals were not her family. She belonged here, in Ishgar, where familiar faces waited for her to discover more than simple familiarity.

"I was a sickly child. Defying all odds I grew up and became stronger day after day. Baba took care of me. I still remember how horrified I was one day when I found blood between my legs."