The days that came by nowadays, did so in a very perfunctory demeanour.

For all they were to do, was to act as the bridge that would eventually enable them to cross the interim that stood between them and their ultimate destiny.

Time simply compressed itself, from months, to weeks, to days, and so on, till they reduced themselves into fragments of moments bound together, striking themselves off, while summing up to the eventuality, she couldn't bring herself to dread-

-Even if she wanted to.

It is never real till it materialises, she used to persuade herself as such.

And now, it had materialized into a substantially tangible reality.

***

He noticed the grief in her eyes as she mechanically fiddled with her necklace. Yet, he attempted to prevaricate, since, this detraction, in the form of an innocuous game of Chaupaar, was just another manner of a futile consolation that he would use to keep her away from being overwhelmed by the grief, that threatened to engulf her.

He gulped slightly.

- 'It is your turn, Bhanu.' Duryodhan said.

She kept quiet, her eyes absent-mindedly gazed at some inconspicuous object immune to material sight.

- 'Bhanu'- he called her softly, while touching her lightly on her fingers.

His touch seemed to bring her thoughts in order, as her sight assembled itself.

- 'Arya!'- she abruptly spoke, as if the realisation of his presence had freshly dawned on her.

As if in a manner of a long nursed habit that made way into one's existence, almost akin to respiring, in order to stay alive, their gazes aligned themselves with that of the other, each endeavouring to decipher what the other meant to convey.

Bhanumati felt an impulsive surge of an emotion overpower her present regularity.

Everything around her dissolved into oblivion, nothing existed anymore, except-

-The man in front of her.

'Arya!'- she promptly surrendered to her yearning impulse, as she readily wrapped him in a sudden embrace, bereft of any prelude.

It took him a brief minuscule of a moment to absorb that rosaceous warmth engulfing him, intoxicating his senses, flooding his train of rationale, enticing a hidden passion, to envelop her in return as he tightly returned the embrace.

- 'I haven't left yet, my love.' he tenderly breathed, in a beauteous earlobe, while affectionately nibbling at it.

Bhanumati slightly loosened the soft circle of her arms, that garlanded him.

- 'Is that all you can think of?!' she murmured.

Duryodhan smiled, scanning her eyes, as if he were looking for a way to gaze into her soul.

- 'Are you scared?' he asked her.

- 'Trepidation isn't a trait I'm privileged to exhibit.' she replied.

His lips curled upward in her favourite lopsided smile, as if daring her to compress her delicate frame even closer, as his arms ensnared her slender waist.

- 'Most definitely.'- he drew her closer.

His heart began synchronizing its rhythm with that of hers, as if beginning on a journey of a symphony of their own.

How could she survive without that symphony infusing the very breath that she used to respire? How was he supposed to exist without those beats directing his blood to circulate his very life?

Yet the symphony wouldn't last.

Their breaths followed suit, while enmeshing themselves in an amalgam of camphor and rose.

'You'll leave in two days.' he heard her speak.

Two days.

That was how close the war had come.

Even the land of Kurkukshtera seemed to be beckoning them towards their duty. No heights of affection, no depths of devotion, no bounds of love could dim away this call of their Kshatriya Dharma.

- 'Do I have a choice?' he tightened his cuddle.

Bhanumati lowered her gaze.

Choice, again an expensive luxury, beyond her to afford.

- 'No.'- she breathed, - 'We don't.'

That unmistakable quiver in her voice was too much for him to bear. There was so much he had to tell her, so much that she had to listen to, so much that she needed to know, so much that he himself needed to know.

So much, and yet so little.

So familiar, yet so far away from their perception.

There had to be some lacuna somewhere.

Was it that of time?

His hands gently found their way to the pearl girdle around her waist while she engaged her senses in absorbing whatever part of his warmth that destiny had sought to provision her with, in this moment.

- 'Is this the one Karna had broken?' he mischievously asked her, clutching the girdle.

A faint tinge of pink appeared in her cheeks, as she coyly lowered her eyes, in response, as a faraway figment of a memory came to them.

It had been so long ago, yet, the incident seemed like it had happened yesterday.

How dearly they missed those days.

She had been a neophyte to the realm of love, and a newfound friendship, after a substantial period of gestation that had bred these ties, based on an exceptionally fierce bond of trust. It was in the early years of their marriage that it had happened.

'You were laughing like you'd been possessed.'- Bhanumati slightly pushed him away, still retaining the nestle.

He laughed, his face shone in a celestial gait.

- 'What could I do?!'- he said, still laughing, - 'The two of you were acting like you were spies who'd been caught!'

That fragment of their memory still kept his jocular stance in place, while she pilfered yet another moment of a glance at him, wondering how pristine he looked while he was as such, carefree and happy.

And yet, again, agony wrenched her from within, with the subtle chide of a reminder that, -

-This wasn't supposed to stay with her forever. That this was only a mercy time was allowing her to capitalise on for comfort.-

-And perpetual grief?-

- 'Do you still have that butterfly you'd lost to him?'- he asked her, while running a free set of his tanned fingers through the glossy black mass of her hair.

She smiled. 'He'd returned it to me, the very next day.'- she said, - 'He said that it was too ornate for Vrushali.'

- 'Liar!'- Duryodhan interjected.

- 'Obviously.'- she agreed, - 'Vrushali never knew of it, in the first place. Of our game of Chaupaar, that is.'- she added, - 'I'd told her later.'

Duryodhan shrugged his head, amused.

- 'That wretched little butterfly!'- he laughed, - 'Do you remember the wretch that had pieced'- he softly tugged at the girdle, once again -'this?'

Mischief shone brightly in his eyes.

She blushed into a deeper shade of pink.

- 'Of course, I do.'

How could she forget?

How could they forget?

The loss of that ornate little butterfly, that had been her favourite ornament, had caused her to fly into a futile, mock anger, exaggerated further by her repeated losses to her opponent. In her fury, and her infantile vanity, she had attempted to flee the game, only to be stopped by Karna, who had caught her hand.

While her fury had been replaced by a rising tension of her husband's arrival, Karna, chose not to heed her tension, or for that matter, the time, while continuing to tease that childish little girl for her antics.

It was then that Duryodhan had suddenly, yet appropriately graced their chamber to find his wife's hand held by his friend, who in turn, on realising his presence, had suddenly released her, only to accidentally break her waistband while pulling away at her saree.

They had both been thoroughly perplexed at the possibility of a misunderstanding, while Bhanumati had run away, seeking a brief escape.

Only to realise later, that Duryodhan had found the whole episode befitting convulsions in laughter. He had run of breath while laughing hysterically at their bewilderment.

'Do you realise how comical you look?!' he had said, guffawing like nothing had happened.

And that was when he had told her-

- 'I trust you, my love.'- he had said, conviction in every syllable, - 'I trust the sacred vows we'd sworn by. I trust the time we've taken to orient to each other. It isn't easy to erode such Faith on the basis of such frivolities.'

***

Trust, she wondered, resting her fingers in his hair.

Such a strange thing.

Trust, in its entirety wasn't unidimensional, she had concurred, particularly after the Dice Game that had been the precursor of what they were about to witness in the days to come.

- 'You, my love,'- he whispered, while snapping her out of her musings, - 'are one severely distracted soul.'

He craned his neck a bit more near her. Their lips almost brushed each other, urging them to eliminate the eon of space that still kept them a tiny bit apart.

She did the rest.

He kissed her back, deeply, gently, as if he were extremely thirsty, as if her soft, pink lips were just the draught he needed to infuse the much welcome moisture in his being, like the first spate of rain, after a considerable amount of the sun's heat. Akin to the first bloom of spring, that relieved their earth, after winter withered away the last blooms.

She held him like she were holding on to dear life. Like, she were struggling to keep herself afloat, while a tempest had tossed her into a turbulent ocean, that threatened to engulf her.

This moment of affection, kept itself detached of the torrid passion that usually attached itself.

This was just them, purely feeling each other, like they had, years ago, for the very first time, that she had realised how she had fallen for him.

Times such as these called for tenderness, passion needn't intervene.

He held her even after their lips disengaged themselves from each other.

He felt her soft cheeks with his palms.

'You're crying.' he said, feeling the slight saline residue of her tears.

She sighed.

'How am I supposed to fight a war with these tears to bid me adieu?' he cooed.

- 'I cannot imagine this. I've tried, and yet I cannot.'- she said, - 'Call me a coward, but, I'm scared.'

- 'Don't be scared, Bhanu.' Duryodhan assured her, trying to allay her fears, - 'I shall return.'

- 'We won't stay apart for long, my love, believe me.' he added earnestly.

Somehow, she found it really difficult to invest even a tiny bit of Faith in that surety. True he had a strong army that had sworn its allegiance to him, with the inclusion of Krishna's Narayani army of two Akshauhinis.

Yet, he didn't have Krishna on his side.

That itself served as a conclusion in more ways than one. But, their Kshatriya instincts necessitated a war to reach a definite conclusion.

- 'I love you.' she whispered, peeping into his eyes.

They were a strange mystery, his eyes. There was this uncharacteristic trait that set those dark depths apart from the others. Never had she seen anything like them, for none possessed that warmth, or that gravity, or that turbulence, or that -

- Distinctive difference that he had supposedly bequeathed their children.

Somehow, she had always held the opinion that those eyes were like her mother-in-law's.

Because, those were the only eyes she hadn't seen. And those that she had, bore no semblance to the thisness that his eyes had.

'Your eyes,'- she said.

She wondered if she'd include this opinion of hers in this confabulation.

- 'Don't say it.'- he said, - 'It only reminds me of a desire that shall remain unfulfilled.'

She would miss deciphering the riddles those eyes would hold for her in all their familiarity. She would miss their glint, that would warm her, straightening her convolutions.

- 'I'll miss you, my love.' she heard.

Her silence was adequate acknowledgement.

Two more days.

Time had eventually come. 

***

Notes:

1. Glossary:

Narayani: Of, or pertaining to, Narayana, another name for Vishnu.

Akshauhini: A count of an army, on the lines of the following:

One elephant (Gaja), one chariot (Ratha), three horses (Ashwa) and five foot soldiers (Padhata) form a Patti;

Three Pattis form a Sena-Mukha;

Three Sena-Mukhas make a Gulma;

Three Gulmas a Gana;

Three Ganas a Vahini;

Three Vahinis a Pruthana;

Three Pruthanas a Chamu;

Three Chamus a Anikini;

Ten Anikinis form an Akshauhini. Thus an Akshauhini, by calculation, contains 21,870 elephants, 21,870 chariots, 65,610 Horses, and 109,350 foot soldiers

Source: Wikipedia. (Because my memory is like a sieve)

2. This is purely a work of fiction, based on mythological references and the author's perception. All comments, criticism, shouts, hollers, screams, AND EVERYTHING YOU CAN THINK OF IS ALWAYS WELCOME WITH WIDE OPEN ARMS, AND:

CHOCOLATES!!!!!!!!!!!! AND CUPCAKES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3. No Photoshop Frivolities, this time!!!!!! HAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The header image, as you might have known, was made by the Angelic Sugarcandy6 (who had an exam today!, And we're pretty sure she rocked! )

AND THE ETHERALLY BEAUTIFUL NEW COVER IMAGE HAS BEEN MADE BY THE WONDERFUL likhitha9 whose brilliance with words and pictures warrants no introduction. Her bafflingly beautiful works of Mahishi, Durga,  His Revenge are beyond perfect, and take the reader into a world of their own, making them live the lives, of the characters, in all their glory and despair. She also, has a ton of exams, which we're sure she's smashing away!!!!!!! 

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HERE!!!!!! IT IS!!!!!!!!!! Another nifty of an update, after some two weeks, and my fingers are literally trembling, because, my exams, are mere days away! *rolls eyes* I HATE DECEMBER! 

BUT I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <33333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333 

AND THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SO VERY MUCH FOR BEARING WITH ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <33333333333333333333333333333333333333333