Agastya : The War

7 : THE EPIC APOTHEOSIS

THE EPIC APOTHEOSIS IS HERE. I'd love to know your views on this!!
And, here you go!

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Child marriage - Child marriage, this isn't just a couple of words. It is a phenomenon which is the cradler of the epitomy of transgressions for the initiation of it paves the way to a ceaseless string of felony. Having forcibly married in childhood, they are deterred from voluntary marriage once they grow up into conscientious individuals. Moreover, it retards rational mental growth of the children who have been a testimony of the phenomenon. Not very seldom, it has been found that young girls are married off to old men, with no consent from the bride. Hence, when the husband dies way ahead of the girl, she is compelled to follow an imposed widow-wood from such a juvenile age. Perhaps, now, females aren't propelled to follow the strict regime of the widow-wood, once their husband dies but in those times, in the early 20th century, like in 1915, they were. Such was the case here. Or, better said - Such were the cases here!

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"Look! I had said this is a safe place to conduct secret meetings," Officer Edwards said with a wide grin.

"Safe?" Oscar Dankworth asked, his joint eyebrows frowned, forming the perfect 'V', leading to the bridge of his sharp nose, the tip of which shone even in the dim lighting.

"Yes Sir, safe. Safe from that wild unholy thing!" Mr. Edwards exclaimed, flinching his face in absolute pure disgust.

"That - Aa-gaas-tyya. Wild and unholy!" Officer Walker asserted.

"Ab -" Dankworth was about to speak, but he held onto his tongue, preferring silence rather than debating over these statements.
Dankworth wasn't new here. He had been here since the past month or so. He certainly wasn't incognizant of that name. He knew the deeds of the person behind that name. But 'unholy' was a bit too much, isn't it? It is no less than a bad word, he thought. Perhaps, he was a government official, so he preferred to stay reticent rather than debating in for of their enemy.

"But, this place still smells of the ammunition," Officer Walker huffed, on one side, sniffing in the negative ambience of the room and on the other side, preparing the glasses for the epic imported Absinthe!

All the four officers clanked there glasses together in a mighty 'Cheers', before introducing the first drops of the alcoholic drink into their throats. Edwards, Turner and Walker screamed in exhilaration, while Dankworth kept taciturn, keeping the glass idly held in his hand. Perhaps, he did not consume the Absinthe now. Or better said, he kept himself aloof from alcohol.

"Sir?" Turner had asked, referring to Dankworth.

"I don't drink." Dankworth replied plainly, a subtle and firm smile on his face.

"Any issues with Absinthe? We've Bourbon here too. Lemme serve it for you...." Turner suggested.

"It's alright, Officer. I'm fine. Thank you for the offer, though," Dankworth said, the subtle yet firm smile not departing from his face.

The other three were still staring at him.
Dankworth had leant back against the rock chair, his hands folded across other, against his chest. When he did that his muscles flexed. They flexed a bit too much, so much so that they threatened death to his black shirt. The other officers were now probably partially intimidated by the muscular features of this huge six feet - four inches tall man.
"You continue. I'm all good. Just some past..." Dankworth said. "History, you know.." He let out a soft and formal chuckle.

The three were casually enjoying their drinks. There was silence all around. Until, Turner muttered, "The War is at the peak. Our country is fighting against Germany. England requires soldiers to sustain. At our land, most of the officials are engaged in the War. Our soldiers and the Indian soldiers are busy in the battlefields, fighting for her." Perhaps, a tear or two were seen in the eyes of Turner. His small eyes glistened with the moisture and his white complexion gave way to a red one. "I wish her all the strength and might she might need!" He said, his right hand forming the sign of 'The Holy Cross' as he prayed for his motherland.