• Articulate •

Not starting tasks is the first characteristic of intelligence. Once started,
bringing tasks to completion is the second characteristic of intelligence.

Mahāsubhāṣitasaṅgraha

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Abhīstāda touched the fallen leaves with her hand. Now since the weather was changing into the mist everything was whirling dry. Here she was looking at the fallen leaves, maybe the atmosphere was frigid but still unaware of the separation.

The water of the river recedes until it submerges in the ocean. Once the bird starts its journey it doesn't come back until the darkness prevails when it becomes difficult to see.

When the grain is ground it bends that it doesn't even stay and slips in between the fingers. It plummets until provided a suitable container. Her thoughts were now divided into various smaller units that it found harder to stay.

Her eyes met with itself only as she gazed at her vague figure in the river and the lines of anger had formed around her countenance. Her sweet smile was nowhere to be, the resentment had taken over them. With her hand, she brushed the water and made her image disappear.

Then she glared at the khaḍga near her and took hold of it. She was present in an area that wasn't explored by people at this time. This place was discerned to her by Keśava.

She made the hold over the grip perpetually. Once she was sure about the grip she moved the khaḍga with comfort. She was alone yet it appeared as if she was ambushing the inconspicuous warrior.

She applied the force with the technique as she practised with the essential trick. The more she fought further the uneasiness enhanced.

Keśava searched for her but couldn't locate her anywhere. He requested his attendant to look for her but didn't find her. It was when someone told him that she saw her going toward the riverside.

He was exhausted, yet the possibility to convene her was still effective in his heart. This was the place he always visited when he was bothered so he moved there. As he heard the faint sound of nūpur he implored his attendants to rest there only and observe the danger.

She was standing there thwarted with herself, her wrath. She peered at the Khaḍga in her hands. She brushed her fingers over the edges of it to see its sharpness, making her finger pierce with sharpness. Causing the blood to cascade.

Késava saw it and moved toward her and saw her fingers replenished with blood. He held her hand and took her near the water washing it, immersing the blood in the water. With time the flow of blood ceased and she withheld to gaze at him. Her eyes were focused on her and his hands.

"Omajā you probably may not understand your importance. But you are required to live, stay to be liberated."

He said to her the following words, affirming his distress. It ached him seeing her when he couldn't convey his heart because she hadn't told anything about her.

Every time he wanted to say something she would puzzle him into entrapment of words. Never had she let him articulate, directly. As if she was afraid, afraid that it would inundate.

His eyes continued to stare at her. She was aware of his gaze as she took her hand away from his grip. "I am a warrior; now as you know. These injuries are part of this journey. An insignificant wound like this could sting you. How do you think you would be able to see more than this? Not soon I am going to rest, what if I give up due to these injuries and never return. How would you feel about it?"

These words weren't mere phrases that she has put in front of him but these were the doubts that were creeping in her heart. They weren't going to share a typical relationship. His anguish could evolve in his frailty that he may get addicted without perceiving the remedy.

Those debts were also not unknown to her. These were like plain paper, one that is still to be inscribed. But, if the page had already been ceased then jotting down on it becomes difficult. The faint lines appear telling about the separation.

Recognizing the solemnity he replied. "I comprehend the truth you want to confide in. But, for now, I am nothing to you. And even if in the future it changes to something. I reckon I would have the liberty to express my remorse. You would get injured I know but at the same time, I understand that your amicable words would furnish stability to me. And if you aren't....here then I would inhabit those memories. Those will be cherished and these words will be remembered. Would you give me a chance?"

A chance of what? The astonishment could be seen as she bit her lips interrupting them from grasping. It was his words that were hastily pleading her again about it but she knew she couldn't answer not until now.

And to these, she didn't answer. "What if hereafter you realise something, another virtue. This isn't something you might want."

Again she was making a web, web of words for him to catch and make him forget but he wouldn't not. He wanted a clear answer. If not, she can't let that be her silence. "Abhikhāya, these words are delightful but as I have said that's not the answer to what heart yearns for and I know the heart doesn't get what he desires. But still..."

Here he can't complete the sentence. He tried but can't so he started again. "I know that changes that may occur and if the choice is to be made by me I have to be the one to decide. You are self aware about it and knows nothing stay, then how could you believe there wouldn't be new aspects, it's depends who tight the hold and the firm the belief is."

She mumbled the inherent words. "It's.. I ...you..."

"It's okay if you don't want to answer. I understand, have always understood it. May take your time, but it's for to tell that's not always as once expect it to be. But, if you want to wait, I am here waiting and waiting however give me chance."

Again chance? No, not the same this time he meant something different with these words. And he just didn't look at her when he whispered those words. He observed the surroundings to look at the beautiful flowers.

These flowers seem to be laced together in the group. They travelled together in the directions of wind as they have embraced each other through the stems and then again separated to meet again. Again and again.

He held the stem and gently plucked the flowers of caṃpā and camēlī bring them near the river, with water cleaned them. He sat near Abhīstāda and removed the strings of pearl around his neck.

Confused she observed his act as he broke it, making it pearl break. "Yuvraj why are you breaking."

"So someday you can assemble it." He kept his words brief as he assembled the pearls and tired them uttariya. "For us to remember."

He then tied the string around the flowers making beautiful head jewellery from it. Every flower wasn't held with the string but his immense affection was immersed in it. After he was done he put it in her hand.

She thought he would put in her hair. She raised her eyebrows but he ignored so she directly asked. "Yuvraj would you not put it around my hairs."

He shook his head. "As I said earlier, I still have no right over it. You are still to answer, maybe someday."

Saying so he turned but after saying. "You can call me Kesava. My answers have been always clear too. To some, you belong and to some, you are still to be something."

Caṃpā: Magnolia

Uttariya: A loose piece of upper body clothing.

Camēlī: Jasmime

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A very simple chapter. Share your views!

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