Meri Pehchan

•the bud of love•

Gentle and humble beginnings of the monsoon weather had soon transformed into a full blown storm. For four days it had continued to pour, with such ferociousness that all men were confined to the walls of their home. Trapped were their free spirits, forlorn were their wild hearts. The sun had forgotten what it's responsibilities were and the untamed clouds continued to weep. Their sorrow — or was it their joy that was so immense that their hearts were wrenched and the usual zephyr like eyes had turned stormy? The river banks had overflown within a few hours, flooding the fertile land for kilometers upon kilometers, destroying the straw huts of farmers.

Man and animal took refuge in the same spaces. The closeness of their bodies generated enough heat to keep their hearts and limbs in motion. Sounds of pitter patter had become their closest confidants, loud screams of air whistling through the tiny openings in between the walls and windows. Lamps flickered and oil was doused over them, firewood began to run out at a fast pace, their hearts beat in fear of their lives. Food was scarce, in their kitchens. While plenty of it rotted in the unbearable wetness, inside the men struggled to feed their children no one had expected something of this scale. Atleast not for the past eighty years.

All was not destroyed though. The storm had taken form a day after the caravan had returned to Baghdad. It had forced those that were separated to be closer than ever. There was no other choice. Behind the walls of the General's manor was a safeguarded haven. A nest of his wife and their love. A gentle dwelling, a reminder of the eternal truth. In life and in death, in sorrow and in happiness, in health and in sickness — in storm and in calmness no one but they would be by their sides. The fact of their life. The only part that was sealed with an iron stamp was their relationship, everything and everyone else was a visitor that would soon disappear.

The large walls had managed to keep stray eyes and ears at bay. Only his most trusted servants were allowed in the main part of his manor during this time, the rest had left for their quarters and were to remain there until summoned. Samra loved the seclusion, she had been thriving in it. The past mont had been particularly tiring on her, meeting so many people and putting up a happy face did not sit well with her. When the announcement had come to stay in homes, Samra had squealed her entire figure boisterous.

In the large home all the lanterns burnt bright. The lamps had been filled repeatedly to keep them alight, the sky outside was dark as the midnight sky. Only the orange hue that came from the fire was their source of illumination. There was a deep silence in the halls, with Samra and Fadahunsi keeping to their quarters for the most part. Rest of the place was too chilly to be visited. The cold settled in on the soft marble and limestone, finding refuge in the creaking wood-boards.

Waking up once more to the rippling sound of water, and harsh smacks from tall tree branches on their windows, Samra nuzzled into Fadahunsi's warm chest. Their bare bodies were covered by a thick sheepskin blanket, fur robes placed on the sides to add extra warmth. She felt wind blow in to the cocoon of warmth and instantly curled herself into a ball. Her fingers brushed the thick caramel hair on Fadahunsi's neck, his dark roots beginning to show more as the exposure to sun lessened. His beard scratched her skin and she blushed on remembering the rash left behind on her inner thigh.

Her muscles were sore and they ached as she willed them to move. He was a man insatiable, and he had kept that under wraps well until they had finally settled into the estate. Her nights were long as he held her to himself, working on her body with his careful hands. His lips whispered secrets against her skin, his tongue traced paths she never knew, her toes curling up as a warmth crippled her stomach. She had never imagined a man that would be so skilled at the art of coupling. She had heard enough stories to dread that part but with him it was like a gentle dream coming true.