KRISHAVYAYAM

15. Her Serenity

The horde of women and children in robes painted in golden hours timely entered and exited with salves and balms in banana leaves. Physicians and nurse maids flanked the residence of the wounded one, at service to respond lest any development was noticed in her stance of protracted unconsciousness.

"Gah!" She cried arising from the slumber that nullified her agony. The thought of being left vulnerable once again was a horrible idea and she almost wretched herself from the fatigue. However, her aching muscles sang a different tune altogether. "Easy there, Mohini. Don't move," advised a voice of elixir, a call from the man she had loved. Tentatively heaving a sigh, she froze against the warmth of his hand on her forehead.

An ocherous hut build of dry grass, stones, branches and mud with eldritch dimness shrouding her and him, somewhat driven away by the faint silvery rays of the lunar deity was what made her vicinity. In the dark, she couldn't make out the features as she stressed her eyes to glimpse at the handsome one.

"Dvarakaesha?"

Kanha was glaring daggers, "I was visiting Maharshi Durvasa when I found you bleeding, devoid of consciousness around the temple and knew you were too fragile to get back to Kampilya or Dvaraka for the first aid.

Mind enlightening me about what keeps going on in your mind? You could have Maharaja Drupada's soldiers chase the dacoits, but you have to be this frivolous. Do not try to prove yourself to anyone for the sake of Shiva."

Kamalnayani habitually whined, "I can explain."

"No you can't you absolute brat. What if I hadn't arrived on time?"

"I was wounded-" she retorted with a cough, throat scratchy and sore, "-and had lost too much blood to keep myself awake. I tried seeking help, but couldn't find any. Pita would be too anxious to find me in this condition, so I didn't consider returning to the palace either," she explained glancing at him with a sheepish look. And unlike the last time he saw her, no honey eyes of a sanguine woman like the melodies springing from his flute were in sight.

["Make it stop, please."

She was absconding from the emotions that haunted her and he was witness to her tears never drying up. The woman who rose from the flames had eternally burned in the flames of agony that shouldn't have been hers.

"It kills me a little every day."]

"Is she awake, Kanhaiya?" A cautious Kandali peeked in, smiling warmly at Kamalnayani's direction as visible relief washed over her. The revered sage Durvasa's consort hurried at once and illuminated the dingy cottage with multiple oil lamps. Krisha pushed a prying hand of his from her forehead with a childish stare, "Devakinandana-"

"Kanha it is. And don't you dare turn this into something humourous."

"Alright. You look knackered yourself and you must rest. Don't massage my head, it's better."

"Mohini-"

"Don't scold me, I'll tell Pita. He hasn't even spoken coldly to me, you can't- well technically you can, but don't do it for I am wordless in defence for my crimes against you," she fumbled pulling the cotton sheet to her head.
"Go sleep. You look like a ghoul."

The comment had just added insult to injury. "You are a ghoul bleeding from everywhere and anywhere. The gall- and, it's you who didn't even answer my letters! I am your friend you are supposed to tell me things not ignore me like I don't exist! Brahmadeva what is this woman?"