#amveer

04

Pawn

He is like sea. Ever changing, thousand storms hidden beneath sleek waves. Vast, deep, deadly yet calm and soothing - when he wants to be. Kuwar Veer Pratap Singh is a sea, that Amrit suddenly finds herself stranded in the middle. His deceptive calmness hides a trench beneath, depth of which none has ever tested. She doesn't want to tread these waters, but the choice is between diving and drowning. Isn't that the choice of every life?

Amrit paces the length of her room. Door locked and lights dimmed. The foolishness of her actions makes her inwardly cringe, who was she fooling with this pretence of sleep when with each step her deceptively elegant chains chime.

"Chun Chun Chun" He had said. "As long as I keep hearing their ring, my worries will cease."

Chun Chun Chun

The anklets chime now, mocking her as if they were an extension of the wicked man who had them made. Those anklets could not be undone, she recalled realizing that with a sneering Veer over looking her. She'd rather cut them off her feet -

The sharp knock scatters her thought. Amrit stops just as the door rattles.

"I know you are not sleeping," Veer's voice filters through the door. He doesn't sound very pleased. Good, Amrit thinks savagely. Let him stay awake all night, listening to his favorite Chun Chun!

"Amrit!"

She has the urge to stomp her feet and irritate him further, but Amrit knows how to choose her battles. Veer has that unassuming wickedness of a naughty child, who'd do the most unexpected thing to get his way. Instead she goes and unlocks the door.

"What?" Tonight, she doesn't have the patience to entertain his tantrums. Amrit had pleaded a headache to get out of the dinner debacle, in fear that it would turn somewhat similar to the breakfast drama just that morning. She was annoyed, hungry and on the top of it bound in elaborate gold chains of the kuwar's choosing. At least she had to have the privilege to snap at someone.

Veer raised his brows, looking down at her from his impressive height.

"Dinner kar lo, humare saath," he says. "It's all been set up in the room, we are not expected down at the table with everyone."

She makes a move to walk past him which he prevents with a hand on the door frame. His eyes are burning when they return her gaze.

"Keep me waiting, next time I'll break open the door." He bites out menacing words against her ear as if they were a soft caress. Looking over his shoulder Amrit notices the servants bowing out of the room, the dinner arranged in a corner. Veer steps away as soon as they shut the door and mentally shaking her head at his antics, Amrit goes to the table set up for the two of them.

"Bina khaye sone wale logon ko, ab badi jaldi hai khane mein," Veer taunts from behind. "Stop!" He says sharply. Unwillingly, Amrit turns to look at him, wondering what new play he has thought up now? Was he going to taunt her with food next? Dangle a paratha in front of her like a carrot in front of a donkey? Veer shakes a finger at her in silent no no. With long strides he joins her at the table and pulls out the chair for her.

"Ladies wait for their accompanying gentleman to pull out their chair," he says offering her the seat with an elaborate gesture.

"Why? Woh kudh nahi kar sakthe?" She asks sarcastically.

Veer pinches the bridge of his nose before pointing an accusatory finger at her.

"Yahi yahi problem hai tum ladkiyon ki! When someone is doing a good deed, can't you just keep back and let him do it? No, you want to show your nari shakti instead!"

Amrit plops down on the chair and looks up at him expectantly.

"What is all this Kuwar sahab?"

Veer takes his own seat and looks at her pointedly.

"Training," he elaborates. "Aaj se, we will have dinner here in the room. Just you and me. I will teach you Rani ma's table etiquette to it's last t.

"Etiquette doesn't end with a t." Amrit points out. "Kiyun? Are you embarrassed on my behalf? I did tell you Kuwar sahab, I'm not the right girl for you. Shukar hai aap ko samajh aaya, dher hi sahi!"

"Pooch nahi raha hoon madam, batha raha hoon," Veer tells her as he places a plate before her and starts piling it up with food. "I don't need your opinion on it. I'm telling you how it's going to happen. You will practice during dinner - I'll see your improvement during breakfast with everyone. It may be a pretence, but you are my wife out there. My other half so to speak. I'd rather at least one half is spared of Rani ma's criticism." He shakes his head at some dark thought and serves himself. "Between you and me, I'm the disappointment - you, you are supposed to be perfect, behetareen, unparalleled - such that, Rani ma could never find one who is your better. You are my victorious move against her, my trump card."

His eyes gleam with a madness that fills her insides with a chill. Amrit realizes that she is unwillingly made a pawn in this battle between mother and son. She had no choice but to keep moving forward and the man behind her - dictating her moves - she wasn't certain if he was sane.

"Hmm," Veer says self satisfied. "Shuroo kiya jaayein."

He was a relentless teacher. Amrit wonders how Rani Sahiba thinks less of this son of hers when he was as tenacious as she was.

"So, as we eat - we'll talk about Pakistani prisoners."

Amrit's fork slips. Veer corrects her grip on it again and raps on her knuckles with the back of his spoon.

"Dyaan kahaan hai tumhara?" He admonishes and cuts her savoury roll into small pieces himself. "You can't keep watching your cutlery as if you are performing a surgery on your food. There will be conversation around which you have to participate in -"

He plucked one piece on his fork and brought it to her mouth. "Learn to multitask."

Amrit swallows the bite just to shut him up.

"What about Pakistani prisoners?" She asks.

"There's a list of those who were recommended to be released under Rani ma's campaign scheme. Want to check and see if your aashiq is among them?"

He pulls out a file from nowhere and flips it open. The smile he gives at her eagerness to reach for it is condescending.

"I've heard dogs learn tricks better when they are given reward treats - aaj dekh bhi liya."

Amrit ignored the insult in favour of checking that precious document. It was the culmination of all her efforts. She won't let a petty insult ruin it. Veer watched her in silence for a moment as she reads through the file.

"What will you do when you get him out?" He muses aloud.

"Nothing. He knows how to live his life."

Veer chuckles darkly.

"You want me to believe you won't want to go to him? That you won't run away?"

"Do you play chess Kuwar sahab?"

"Why? You want to learn that next?" He retorts.

Amrit shakes her head. Returns to her food and manages - perfectly - to take a bite from her fork.

"The first rule of any battle is to trust your enemy to do the worst and your soldier to do the best. You have placed me on your side Kywar sahab, you have no choice but to believe I will do my best. If you doubt your own soldier - your opponent will benefit."

For a moment Veer says nothing, then his face breaks into a deceptively bright smile.

"Shukar hai," he says. Shukar hai aap ko samajh aaya, dher hi sahi!" He pays back in her own words, adding his signature sarcasm to it. "You are my soldier. Don't try to be my queen." He offers her another bite. "I've learned my lesson of trusting women. You are left with nothing if you depend on them. Rani ma. Anaita. Tum. All you women know is to disappoint. Ab aur nahi - now I decide the rules of this game."

"Kuwar sahab -"

She jumps at the sound of the door opening. In comes Rani Sahiba, her face a mask of indifference. Veer looks at her annoyedly.

"I'm having serious doubts about your manners Rani Ma," he greets. "Zara dimaag mein zoor daliyein, somewhere - someone might have taught you something about not entering rooms of newly married couples without knocking?"

To his credit Rani sahiba doesn't even flinch. Amrit feels her face burning. She looks away. Rani sahiba being Veer's mother has the nerve to smile.

"You didn't come for dinner. I wanted to talk. It cannot wait." She says pleasantly.

"Kahiyein," Veer mimics her pleasantness. "I'm sure you took the trouble to come all the way up to deliver some shok bhara samachaar!"

"Since you are insisting Veer that I give your wife," she throws a dark look at Amrit. "All due respect and status of a daughter in law of this royal family...I have arranged for that one ritual you missed to force upon us." She pauses for dramatic effect. "It cannot happen that a new daughter in law has joined the family and the newly married couple as you so eloquently put do not seek blessings from our kuldevi? I have arranged a kuldevi pooja for you and bahu. You should prepare to leave tomorrow."

The chill in her smile and the way Veer had suddenly gone very still tells Amrit all she needs to know about this upcoming veneration. The woman has her son's cruel streak, for her eyes flashes with victory at the ghost like pallor in Veer's face. Amrit has the urge to reach out and take his hand - a misplaced emotion that she quickly stomps on. This is the man who made her wear those anklets. She's not going to forget that.

"Kiyun, you have a problem Veer?" Rani sahiba asks sweetly.

"Nahi." Veer's voice is little too high, little too cherry. "Of cause I have no problem." He looks at his mother, his eyes reddening, his fists clenched. "So you'll be going with us too, won't you Rani Ma? Or do you have a problem?"

"Of cause. I - I will." Her voice falters and Veer's fist tightens.

"Of cause," he says. "Of cause."

He rises from the table abruptly.

"If you could finish me off in the process I'm sure you won't think twice to poison your own food. Aap kha lijiye Amrit, humari bhook mitt gayie."

Throwing those last words as if he was spitting out the said poison, Veer left Amrit staring up at the sweet yet cruel face of a supposedly benevolent woman.

03

Minotaur

Somebody had read her a Greek myth once. Amrit doesn't remember who, but she remembers the pounding of her heart as she clutched a pillow and listened - heart in her mouth - about how the hero entered a dark maze by tying a string to its entrance and keeping the other end in his hand. At the centre of the maze awaited a monster.

Navigating life with Kuwar Veer Pratap Singh was somewhat similar. He was the maze and the monster both and with a gust of wind she had just lost the end of her string. Amrit would later laugh at herself for thinking of Greek myths when the monster was breathing down her face but that moment when the pardha slipped and finally her eyes met with Veer's, it was all her numb mind had conjured.

In her relatively young life Amrit has faced several angry men. It became the norm of the times she lived in, the world she survived on a daily basis, between two infuriated men - one her brother Uday and the other her make believe husband, she could still hold her ground. She expected him to lash out, go for her throat at the very least - his eyes were liquid fire, his mere stare scorching. Behind her, she could feel Uday shift, ready to launch himself at Veer.

Veer shifted, his grip leaving her unexpectedly. She did not waste time on analysing him, instead she turned to beg Uday.

Amrit knew her brother would take nothing but truth, but truth she couldn't give him then and there. She implored him with her eyes, and willed him to understand.

"Aap jaayiye veerji," she pleaded. "I'll come to see you. Please, please..."

Uday pauses, looks at her and sighs. His shoulders droop as the fight leaves him. Amrit has no doubt that her brother would take her away at the cost of his life if she indicates her unhappiness in the slightest. But she has motives in coming here. She cannot turn back so soon after starting her fight.

Yet when Uday leaves, when they all leave one by one - some relieved that no harm was done, some disappointed that the drama did not escalate - leaving her alone to face the monster in the middle of her maze, Amrit is no longer certain of her choices. Veer's anger is scathingly cold and silent as the dead of a winter night.

"Kamre mein aayiye Zara," he says smoothly and leaves without waiting to see if she had followed. Amrit swallows at his tone, but follows him nevertheless. There is no longer a string to keep track of her route in the dark, there is no leaving of this maze she had walked willingly into - she'd very well face the monster and be done with it once and for all.

The click of the gun makes her pause at the threshold. Veer doesn't turn to look at her, instead religiously dismentals and reassembles his gun. His movements are deliberate, hands steady with what could only be years of practice. Even as she notes the veiled threat of his actions, they remind her of her father. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth that something so particular would associate this man with her fond memories of home.

"Shut the door." He checks the trigger and adjusts the barrel. His voice is still casual. Amrit complies.

When she bolts the door and turns, Veer is before her, his weapon drawn and pointed, aiming between her eyes.

"Give me one good reason not to shoot you now."

For all the mental preparation, Amrit breathes through her open mouth.

"You won't shoot me, Kuwar Sahab, you want me to think you would. You simply can't claim to love your wife to the moon and back a few moments before and then murder her in cold blood inside your bedroom. Even if we put aside how it will affect your reputation - you don't want to be labelled insane do you?"

As the words leave her mouth Amrit wonders why this man always ends up bringing out such fire in her. It rages inside her, the bitter reality of her helplessness, the hurt, the disappointment - and the coil it binds her in eases as she lashes out at Veer. His eyes flickers in surprise. His jaw tightens in anger. She'd never seen a man easier to read or provoke, or more satisfying to hurt.

"Shatir ho tum," he says, lips tugging in a mocking smile. "Well played Mrs. Veer Pratap Singh- well played!"

He lowers the gun, but never puts it down.

"But there are things you never learned about me. One - I have no qualms of being called a madman, I've heard it thousand times before. By my own mother no less. Such a liberating word it is. Pagal. Kabhi bhi kuch bhi kar sakthe hai. Kuch bhi. "

He looks at her pointedly, notices with satisfaction how a little colour drains from her face.

"I won't trust you again," he continues. "Itne bhi pagal nahi hai hum. But," he paused, stepped closer - watching her, until he looms over her, the cold barrel of his gun pressed against her side. "Hum aap ki himmat ke kadar karte hai. Therefore I'm giving you this one chance to come clean. You know my weakness - you've exploited it by installing yourself into my family, that even if I wish to - as you said I cannot remove you without implications. So it is only fair that I get hold of your weakness in return." The cold metal digs into her skin. Amrit doesn't dare flinch. "It's not that I can't kill you now. I'd rather not. Shatir ho tum, mouka hai, faida uttha lo."

"There is a man," she speaks before she thinks it through. "Whose freedom I wish to buy. It doesn't matter if the cost is my own life in return. He is in a Pakistani jail."

Veer's smile is slow, but sharp as a razor.

"Tumhara aashiq," he says savagely.

"That doesn't concern you."

He withdraws the gun and himself, leaving her to catch her breath.

"True. It doesn't concern me," he shakes his head to himself. "Do a proper job and your work will be done."

Amrit turns away, a hand clasped against her heart, a silent prayer on her tongue and blinking away her tears. She'd not stoop as low as to let Veer see how much of a relief his words brought her, or how dependent she was on his promise.

"Bohut pyaar karti ho usse?" He calls after her, abruptly, causing her to halt. "Kudh se zyaada?"

He sounds speculative and a little curious. Veer approaches her again, turns her to face him, his eyes searching her face.

"You do realize you'll never see him again, right? Because I don't later want great drama over sachcha pyaar, rub ka ishara, kismet ka rishta etc etc... zindagi ka sauda kiya hai madam," he bows and touches his forehead to hers, lips tugged in a mocking grin. "Zindagi bhar nibhana padenga."

"Chaar kadam," she says instead. He looks at her blankly. "You are forgetting your own rule Kuwar sahab."

His grip on her tightens and Veer clenches his jaw. Before he replies however somebody politely knocks on the door.

"Breakfast is laid out Chote hukum, aap ke aur bahu rani ki intazaar ho rahi hai."

Veer sighs and steps back, leaving her to go and unlock the door. Deliberately, he ignores to inform her how dishevelled she looked, or how her sindoor was smudged leaving a trace of it along his forehead. Instead he addresses the flustered servant over her shoulder.

"Won't a person get two minutes to spend with their wives in this place? Hadd hai mathlab...!"

"My apologies hukum," the servant bows and Veer shooes him with a disinterested hand gesture and holds Amrit back before she leaves.

With deliberate slowness he adjusts her Dupatta on her head, straightens her necklace and wipes away the smudge of sindoor neatly. 

"Rani ma send him. Humari jhasoosi karne," he explains in a low tone. "Now that you are here, do take care. Yahaan deewaron ki sirf kaan hi nahi aank, naak, muh, daat sab hote hai. Kahi kaat na lein."

**

01

Epiphany

"Randheer - Pakistan police caught him."

The words rang in her head, sinking slowly into pits of her conscience. The love that she waited for - lived for - was held captive in a different land. Air burned her windpipe and Amrit struggled to breathe - those words were caught in her throat. He will not come to save her. It had been a futile dream. Instead, perhaps, she would have to save him.

She hadn't realized how tightly she had clutched at Vashma's hand. Not that her friend had cared. Now they had each other - they held with greed and they cried. They were tears worth four years. Tears for every laugh once shared, every kindred spirit once loved. Amrit snuggled against Vashma's shoulder, allowed her tears to soak through her clothing. Vashma ran her fingers through Amrit's loose hair with tentative affection.

Amrit closed her eyes and allowed the warmth to wash over her. Like desert, she soaked up Vashma's loving caresses - deprived as she was of all forms of love that was in that beautiful life of yore. There was such heartwarming motherliness about Vashma, perhaps it was her pent up love for her lost baby finally finding a different target. Amrit clutched at her other hand.

"Why?" She asked. "Why wouldn't you let me tell Uday Veerji you are here. Why won't you allow yourself to be freed from this cage? This isn't a life worth living Vashma. This isn't a life that you deserve."

Her eyes were closed as she spoke. In the pause that followed Amrit's words, Vashma seemed to have aged decades - lived several lives and spoke with a wisdom that Amrit did not yet posses.

"Do you know what azaadi did to us?" She asked. She had of cause answered this question before, telling Amrit how she wouldn't leave without finding her baby, that she couldn't meet Uday's eyes otherwise. Amrit watched her keenly now, realizing Vashma was going to give a different answer this time.

"It gave us potential. Potential to grab power." She sighed. "When we were a colony- everyone was powerless. Everyone was together. Now that the enemy is gone - we have turned on each other. Now, if we want to protect what is ours, remain who we are - we need power of our own."

Finally, Vashma looked at her, really, looked at her. "This is not a good place. True. But it is an epicenter of power. Mujhe woh takat chahiye Amrit, I want such power that no man ever would trample upon me and mine. Such power that I could right every wrong ever done to me. Such power that I would wish and my baby would be found."

"Iss barbadi mein kudh ko kya aabad karonge Vashma?"

"You won't understand," Vashma said slowly. "If this is greed, manjoor hai mujhe. We deal in secrets Amrit. You have no idea what kind of power they hold. How easy it is to get a hold over a person and make them abide to your wishes. I'm doing the same to Amina bai for now, her need to run this place allows me a hold over her."

"You've changed." Amrit shook her head. But she did not mean it with prejudice. Vashma made things rather simple, more black and white than the confusing gray.

"Do you honestly think it's wrong to use a woman like Amina bai till I find my child?" Vashma insisted. "Do you?"

"No," Amrit said slowly. "Unki bhi toh faida hi hai," she shook her head to her own thought. But the thought gripped her, kept her held in that rather dark place. Power. Greed. Bargain. Then, something else occurred to her, a voice, a proposal - now replayed in a new light.

"Aap apni intezaar utt ke kijiye, beith ke kijiye, soothe hue kijiye, kaathe waqt kijiye - aapki aur aapki intezaar ki beech hum nahi aayenge."

Oh well. If it is what he wanted, Amrit toyed with the idea - was it too bad of her to want a bit of power in return? A little consequence, perhaps a little say - power enough to get Randeer the freedom he deserved, bring him away from that hellish place to somewhere better. Could anyone say she was wrong then if she was to stake her own life in lieu of Randheer's?

She closed her eyes, let the last of acidic tears to drain away. Somewhere deep within her soul, something withered and rotted. Perhaps it was the girl she was - perhaps it was the dream of the woman she thought she would be. Perhaps it was that petulant wish she held into - that wish of becoming Randheer's. If she was to do this - she'd never be his, never be the woman she dreamed to be. But he would be free. Wouldn't that be enough to live out the rest of her life? Knowing that the man she love was no longer suffering but was free and living his life out there somewhere.

Somewhere far away.

Perhaps, this was the sign her God had wanted to give her by making her see a glimpse of Randheer in the crowd. That glimpse which brought her to Vashma and this epiphany.

"Kya soch rahi hai tu?" Vashma inquired, one elegant brow arched dramatically.

For a moment Amrit was amazed at how unfazed she was, even when she had confronted Veer - at his worst no doubt. Vashma had still managed to get an apology from the man, a feat no less - but had also managed to stop him from finding out that the woman he wanted to find and kill was but a door away from him. Vashma could help her.

"Woh Chale Gaye?" She asked vaguely instead. Then added. "Kuwar sahab?"

Vashma was silent for a moment. She was smart and Amrit had not yet learned to keep her face impassive.

"He will kill you." Vashma stated. "You have taken a wrong meaning to my words."

Amrit shook her head, took Vashma's hands in hers.

"I should do this. I could give you hundred reasons why. Starting from keeping my family safe from that volatile man. Then I could give you one truth. I would do it for Randheer. Just like you are doing this for Kabir and Uday veerji. I will go back to him - jo honga dekha jaayenga ."

*

This initiative of hers, had God's blessing. Amrit would not have thought of keeping pardha on her head - it was Vashma's doing - and before she knew it, the silver tongued Vashma had already taken Veer's word to protect her and her honor.

"- humare liye yeh ek mehemaan hi rahengi. Jab tak yeh humare saath rahengi iss pe ya isski izzat pe anch tak aane nahi dunga. Yeh vaada hai humara hum iss ki taraf aank utta kar bhi nahi dekhenge."

And so they went, a satisfied Vashma bidding her a tearful good bye, and her own heart thumping in her throat, Amrit followed Veer, out into the lantern lit street of chandni chawk.

Outside, he stopped abruptly. She'd have walked into him had she been any less attentive.

"Ek darkhast hai aapse," he said then. The shadows hid his expression but his tone was weary, that once haughty pose drooping. Amrit spoke before she had thought it out. Her need to get this right - get herself into this power play too urgent.

"I will not leave. I promise."

There she had gone and made a bargain of her own. Her freedom in exchange of Randheer's - one day, very soon.

Veer went still, very still as if her words had doused him in ice water. He turned to her sharply, eyes searching. But she had turned her face away. He could only see a silhouette of her face against the pardha lit up by the nearest hanging lantern. Dark hair braided thickly hung from her shoulder down to her waist. If he so wished, he could convince himself into seeing a glimpse of his run away bride in this stranger. Maybe, he was drunk after all.

"Chaar kadam-" he said instead. "Four steps. Stay four steps away from me always. Not a step closer. Not a step further. Chaar kadam."

"Chaar kadam." She repeated, slightly puzzled but inwardly happy. Distance - she was only too happy to impose. But then he stumbled and she reached instinctively to steady him - a hand at his elbow.

For whatever reasons, she wanted this man alive - not dead on some shadowy step of chandni chawk.

He managed to stay upright, one hand bracing the nearest pillar and the other holding into her arm. Amrit stumbled along and ended up pressed between the pillar and him. This was the closest she had ever been to Kuwar Veer Pratap Singh, without any conscious attempts by the man himself to intimidate her. He looked down at her speculatively, his gaze trailing over yet unseeing her face. She turned her face away, scrunching her nose in disgust at the scent of alcohol in his breath. He dipped his head and muttered close to her ear.

"Qareeb aayi toh tum barbaad ho jaongi- dur gayi toh hum barbaad ho jayenge. Chaar kadam. Remember."

He moved away and waved a warning finger at her.

"Chaar kadam."

*

Image above belongs to Sonytv Twitter, who posted it. Fair use, no profit intended.

02

Revelation

The grandeur of her new home dawns belatedly. By the time the last door closes, bolts turn over the point of no return Amrit is numb against the pounding of her heart. True to his word, Veer doesn't even glance at her. Instead he covers the distance across his room in a couple of strides and pushes open a door she hadn't noticed before.

"Sometimes," he says with a quirk of a bitter smile. "Old customs solve unexpected trouble. Your room." He indicates. "Parampara hai, that here spouses keep their separate rooms. We are separated but by a door, you may lock it if you wish." He waits until she had joined him at the threshold, until she grasps the handle. Gripping the door in a white knuckled grip, he turns to her - all traces of smile gone. "But, don't you dare leave. Don't you dare!"

She winces a little, when the door rattles and raw skin on her palm stings. Amrit notices the pain just then. Opening her palm she notices the burn left behind by that electric wire she had accidentally electrocuted herself with. The stinging red line along her palm sears in the cold air.

"You have mehendi on your hands," Veer observes as he moves away from the door leaving it open for her to remove herself to the other room if she wants to. "Kya hum pooch sakte hai kiyun?"

"I was supposed to marry today," she tells him, wondering if it was finally the time to face his ire, lift her pardha and be done with it once and for all.

He stops shuffling through one of his drawers.

"Chod diya usse? Bhaag aayi?"

The sharp edge to his tone makes her flinch.

"Nahi!" She protests. "Something happened. I - I got hurt and lost consciousness. Kher," she turns away. "Aap humara yakeen kyun kare. I have nowhere to go, hence I've agreed to this arrangement. Does it ease your heart to hear that? Don't blame people when you aren't aware of their side of the story Kuwar sahab. Kya patha your fiancee might be in a similar situation somewhere? Kya patha, she wanted to keep her word but circumstances were against her? Kya patha if she's alright or not? But no, aap ko toh goli maarni hai!"

She fumbles over her words in agitation and turns to find him closer than she had anticipated. During her rant Amrit did not notice him approaching. She tugs down her pardha self consciously, praying he could not see through the flimsy layer in these dim lights.  Veer watches her curiously, if not suspiciously. She holds his gaze, knowing full well he couldn't see the defiance in her eyes. But it feels like a little victory to keep her head up and meet his gaze. Equals, for a change.

"Haat do," he says.

Amrit is startled.

"Give - me - your - hand," he repeats, each word paused with emphasis.

Confused and a little cautious Amrit unfolds her palm. Veer places a little container of yellowish paste on her upturned palm.

"For your burn. Put it on, before going to sleep. Now, there's a circus scheduled for tomorrow. So I advice an early night."

He stalks away, digging out a hip flask from his pocket and taking a deep swig from it. It is the last Amrit sees of her make believe husband before the door joining their rooms closes behind him. She remains on that spot for a moment longer, unsure, unsettled and disturbed, staring at the tiny container of medicine lying innocently on her palm.