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The full moon cast its silvery glow over the village, illuminating the faces of the people gathered around the bonfire.
The cold December wind whipped through the streets, but the warmth of the fire and the lively chatter kept everyone cozy.
" Suna he , Basant sa apna karobaar apne bete ko sonp rhe he ' someone said, nodding towards the sleek jeep that had just driven by.
[ I heard that Basant sa is handing over his business to his son ]
" Han Bhai bade log he " another villager replied, shaking their head.
" Muh me sone ki chammach leke janme he , Beth jayenge sidhe gaddi par "
[ Those rich kids have it easy,'They're born with a silver spoon in their mouth.']
A third voice chimed in,
" Are na na , Unka chora to bhut pdha likha he , Mene to ye bhi suna he vo videsh giyo to pdhne ko , Or aaj vha bhi bdo karobaar bnayo he "
[But Basant Sahab's son is different. He's really smart and studied abroad. He is even doing a huge business there too ]
The villager's eyes sparkled with admiration as they cracked open a nut.
Someone else chuckled wistfully.
" Sahi he , Unke bacche Sahab Bane or hmare majdur "
['Their kids become doctors, while ours work in the fields... that's just how life goes.]
~β’~β’β’~~β’β’β’~β’~β’β’~β’~
They pulled up near the Chandani Mahel area, the car's headlights illuminating the entrance to Chandani Gali.
Thakur's driver, Mansingh, brought the vehicle to a stop By the command of Vikram sa..
"Gadi yha kyon rukva di hukum? Aage paidal jana pdega aapko," Mansingh asked, his eyes meeting Basant Sahab's in the rearview mirror.
[Why have you stopped the car here, sir? We'll have to walk from here.]
The night air was crisp and cool, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and damp earth.
Vikram Sahab's voice cut through the silence, calm and authoritative.
"Ye Chandani gali he, yha Gadi yhi rukti he Mansingh," Vikram Sahab announced.
[This is Chandani Gali, Mansingh, cars stop here.]
Mansingh looked puzzled, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Rudra's voice was low and introspective as he began to speak. The words hung in the air like a whispered secret.
"Kuch manzilen Hume apne aap Tey krni padti he..." Rudra's eyes seemed to gaze into the distance, his voice trailing off.
"...Vha apni parchai ka bhi sahara nhi le sakte," Rudra finished, his voice barely above a whisper.
[Some destinations we have to reach on our own...without even the support of our own shadows.]
The elder son of Basant Sa .Rudra , wore a white kurta and wrapped a black shawl around it.
His aura was something that men craved to have and women craved to get around.
His walk was not less than a lion on its haunting grounds.
His charming face spoke about his wealth and power, with a sharp jawline and masculine body that made him look like the king of the place, which he eventually was.
His presence was mesmerizing, drawing both men and women to him like a magnet.
As the Thakurs walked down the road, their aura preceded them, emptying the streets in seconds. People gathered on the sidelines, watching in awe as they passed by...
"Videsh me Jakar bhi tum yha ki mitti ki khushbu nhi bhule Rudra," Vikram Sahab said to his grandson, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
[Even after going abroad, you didn't forget the scent of this land's soil, Rudra.]
Taking a deep breath, his eyes roamed to the Chandni gali..
"Isi khushboo ka itra bachpan se lagata aaya hu, Bhulna na mumkin he."
[I've been applying the perfume of this scent since childhood; it's impossible to forget.]
Vikram Sa sighed, his gaze drifting away .
The Thakurs continued on their way to 'Chandni Mahel', an ancient building that shone brighter than the moon.
Beautiful girls roamed the grounds, their laughter and chatter filling the air.
The fragrance of jasmine and homemade perfumes wafted through the atmosphere, intoxicating and irresistible...
As the Thakurs entered the mahel, girls waited on the stairs, their eyes fixed on Rudra, each hoping to catch his gaze.
It was the ultimate fantasy of every girl present: to capture Rudra's gaze, even if only for a fleeting moment.
But Rudra had never shown any interest in them, his eyes seeming to pierce right through them .
The grand entrance of the mahal swung open, revealing a large and luxurious hall.
A stately lady in her late 50s, dressed in a shiny red and green sari, golden jewelry, and white roses in her hair, greeted them with a sly smile.
Her eyes sparkled with a hint of cunning, her lips curving upward in a subtle, mysterious smile.
"Mashaalla, Mashallah Thakur Sahab, Aaj is taraf ka rasta kese bhul bethe..." she said, her voice dripping with an undercurrent of sly intent.
[ It's surprisingΒ Thakur Sahab, how did you got the way here today...]
Vikram Sahab smiled graciously, but a shadow flickered across Rudra's eyes.
In that instant, his gaze meets her's, locking in a piercing stare that seemed to cut through each other's defenses.
The lady's smile seemed to grow, her eyes glinting with a knowing light, while Rudra's eyes blazed with a fierce glare...
She sat up on the sofa, chewing on a pan,
"Assalam walikum," she said, her tone husky and slightly seductive.
Vikram Sahab replied,
"Walikum salam, Ishrat Begum,"
as he sat down beside her, accepting a glass of water from a maid.
Rudra, however, declined the offer with a single, swift glance.
Ishrat's gaze flickered to Rudra, her eyes narrowing slightly as she side-eyed Vikram Sahab.
Taking it as a cue, Vikram Sahab made the introduction. "Rudra Thakur, My grandson."
Ishrat's eyes widened, her voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "Shubhanallah, Thakur ki jawani to lajavab he."
[God's blessings, Thakur's youth is truly captivating.]
Rudra's gaze darkened, his eyes flashing with a hint of displeasure as he turned away gaze to mahel.
"Aaj bhi vhi zherili aankhe,
Andaza ho gya tha muje pehle hi," she giggled.
Rudra's eyes flashed with a warning glare.
"Hona bhi chahiye, Tabahi ki aahat na pehchane Itni bholi aap hen nhi."
[You should have recognized the signs of destruction. You're not that innocent.]
She forced a smile.
"Bilkul apni ma par gye he Rudra sa, Vhi zherili zaban."
[You've taken after your mother, Rudra Sahab, with that sharp tongue.]
A sly smile lingered on Rudra's lips. "Shukar manaiye Irade zherile nhi mere, Vrna aap or aapka Chandni mahel, aapke Allah hi bachaye."
[Be thankful my intentions aren't malicious, or else you and your Chandni Mahel would have been destroyed, and only God could have saved you.]
Vikram Sahab intervened, changing the topic to lighten the atmosphere.
"Ek zamana hua krta tha, Ye gali twaifon ke nam se roshan thi, Ab vo bat nhi rhi."
[There was a time when this street was famous for its courtesans, but that's no longer the case.]
Ishrat smirked. "Ab bhi vhi bat he, Vikram sa bs hukum kre, Ek se ek haseen ladkiyo ki line lgva du."
[It's still the same, Vikram Sahab. Just give the order, and I'll line up the most beautiful girls for you.]
Rudra's voice cut in, his tone firm.
" Kitni twaifain hongi yha ?."
[How many courtesans are there here?]
Vikram Sa chuckled...
"Twaif? Are In ladkiyo ke sath unka nam jodkar unki tauhin to mat kro."
[Don't insult twaifs by Calling these girls 'Twaif']
Vikram Sa continued, laughing, "Twaifon ka ek malik hota tha, Or Inka...Har rat Nayi bazi naya dao."
Rudra's gaze remained unyielding, his eyes blazing with a fierce glare at Vikram Sa .
Ishrat forced a smile, her jaw clenched in tension.
"Kya kre Vikram sa, Papi pet he palne ke liye kuch to Krna padega na. Ab Thakur bhukhe pyase aajaye to hum khana to prosenge hi na."
[What can we do, Vikram Sahab? We have to make a living somehow. If the Thakur arrives hungry and thirsty, we'll serve him food.]
She smiled again, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Vo bhi khush, Hum bhi khush."
[Everyone's happy.]
"Or Rudra sa Fulo ke bagiche me aakar, Mali se fulo ki ginti nhi pucha krte," she said, her voice laced with mockery.
[And Rudra Sahab, you come to the garden of flowers and don't even ask the gardener about the number of flowers.]
She added, her tone sly, "Ful chahe kitne bhi ho, aapki pasand ka ful sirf aapka rhega... Yakin rakhein."
[No matter how many flowers there are, the one you prefer will always be yours... Trust me.]
Rudra's expression remained unyielding. "Me fulo ka shokhin nhi, Na hi kharidar hu par kuch saval he jinke jawab chahiye."
[I'm not a flower enthusiast, nor a buyer, but I do have some questions that need answers.]
Ishrat's smile faltered for a moment, her eyes narrowing.
Vikram Sahab intervened, his tone calm. "Rehne do Ishrat, ise in chizon ka shuak nhi.. bs chahta tha ekbar mahel dekhna or tumse milna.. to le aaya."
[Let it go, Ishrat. He's not interested in these things. He just wanted to see the mahel and meet you, so I brought him.]
Ishrat's smile returned, but it was laced with venom. "Kahin, videsh se afsar banakar to ni laye apne pote ko thakur sa."
[Maybe you've brought your grandson back from abroad as an officer or something, Thakur Sahab.]
Her eyes glinted with malice. "Kahi esa na ho, hmari billi hme hi miyaun krde."
[Maybe our cat is meowing at its own home.]
Before Rudra could respond, Ishrat intentionally cut him off. "Acha chodein ye bate, pehle aap hmari nayi bacchiyan to dekhe..."
[Let's forget about these matters for now and first take a look at our new girls...]
She flashed an exaggerated smile at Vikram Sa and signaled her man to escort them out.
"Matlab kali ke khilne tak ka bhi intezar nhi krti aap.."
[You don't even wait for the flowers to bloom...]
Rudra leaned back in his chair, his tone dripping with disdain.
Ishrat's smile turned sarcastic. "Rudra sa, Ye tikhi zaban, Kisiki yad dilati he hume."
[Rudra Sahab, this sharp tongue of yours reminds me of someone.]
She offered him a pan, her eyes glinting with mockery.
"Rosh farmaiyen.. Aapke mijaz ko kuch der sukoon milega."
[Please accept this. It will bring some peace to your temperament for a while.]
Rudra took a deep breath, his face turning away in disgust
. The girls were lined up before him, dressed in shiny clothes, saris, and overdone makeup, with bright red lips and blushy cheeks.
They wore golden jewelry and had long braids adorned with fake flowers.
Rudra didn't even glance at them for a second, his eyes rolling up in disdain.
Just then, a girl was pushed out of the room, landing at Rudra's feet.
She was in her early twenties, clad in a blue sari with a revealing black shimmery blouse.
Tiny pink lips and red roses adorned her hair, but her gaze was downcast, her hands trembling as her body seemed to surrender to its fate.
A single tear from her eye , dropped onto Rudra's feet, and his eyes snapped at her , a wave of emotion swept through his eyes, his brows furrowed .
The next moment time stopped running , Air froze in between, Water stopped flowing..
As she lifted her gaze, her teary eyes met Rudra's, and a spark of hope flickered within them.
Despite the fear and desperation, her dim eyes still held onto the promise of rescue, of escape from the hell she was trapped in.
Another girl helped her to stand, and she somehow pushed herself to get up , her scared eyes fixed on Rudra.
Rudra's gaze was transfixed on her terrified expression, her red nose, and her hands clutching the hem of her sari.
But Her eyes avoided his,Β he could sense the desperation emanating from her.
Ishrat's taunting voice broke the silence,
"Umeed he, ab kaleje ko zra thandi aahat mil hogi Rudra sa..."
[There's hope now; maybe your heart will find some solace, Rudra Sahab...]
Rudra forgot to blink, his eyes locked onto the girl's anguished face. Ishrat's sarcastic smile grew wider as she signaled her man
"Kmare me tyar rakh ise..."
[Get her ready in the room...]
----------To be continued
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