#triggeralert #violenceagainst woman

Chapter 4

There isn’t freedom

Till there’s no free will

The lure of freedom

Makes chained restraints keel

Her mother’s words rang into her ears as she panted her way to her room. Her saree caught in her heels twice, almost tripping her. But Aarti had been there to support her as always. The latter had, however, been silent throughout.

The poor girl must have been shocked to hear about the impending royal engagement. Padma wanted to console Aarti, saying she wasn’t interested in marrying Keshav and would talk to her father later when things cooled a bit. Her father was also stressed with the MLA’s unforeseen visit that evening, and she didn’t want to burden him before the guests.

But at that moment, both Aarti and she got busy changing into their casuals. Padma had warned Aarti to wear black, and finally, they covered their respective beds with pillows and blankets to give a sense of someone sleeping. They then tiptoed their way to the west side exit.

They made it to the groves uneventfully. The added bag containing their party ensembles made movement complicated in the darkness, very often the bag getting entangled in the low boughs of trees, but somehow, they managed. Unfortunately, Aarti was still silent and Padma didn’t know how to convince her and put her at ease.

Aarti drew her mobile phone, and for once, Padma was envious of the girl’s freedom. Her calls back in the palace were monitored, and that knowledge brought down her guilt about tonight. As Aarti placed a call to her friend about helping them when they arrived at the venue, Padma felt she was being watched.

She turned around, but there was only blackness with a minimal rustling of leaves in the night breeze. But, wait… was there some subtle scent in the air? Padma had a strong olfactory sense and raised her nose to figure out the fragrance. But it disappeared as quickly as it breezed its way into her nostrils.

She turned towards Aarti, who completed the call, but the feeling of unease didn’t dissipate. Did her father have any inkling about her escapade that night? She shuddered at the thought but realized that if it were true, the King wouldn’t have sat still. She wouldn’t be here in the depth of the woods but locked in her room.

Fortunately, there was no rain that night, and they trekked their way down the hill slope with only Aarti’s phone torch occasionally for illumination.

As promised Aarti had arranged for a motorbike parked in the wild buses with two helmets. Padma wasn’t sure, but Aarti turned to be a pro, and as they strapped the helmets, she started the bike and drove down the hill, the road a blurring black strip, moving towards the dark plains.

As they neared the town, Padma was mesmerized by a different kind of atmosphere, filled with lights, and from her line of vision, they resembled the sequins on her evening saree. She had rarely been here that too, only during the daytime, and her visits were restricted and heavily guarded.

They rode for about half an hour. There was barely any traffic except for a few bikers and a couple of cars. No one seemed to bother about two young girls on the bike. However, the strange sense of someone watching them never left Padma. It felt eerie, but Padma didn’t want to let it bother this rare opportunity. She didn’t know when she would get to escape… till the hole in that wall wasn’t discovered….

As she sipped the punch, the cold drink passing through her food pipe calmed her soul. Aarti went back to dance while she waited to finish her drink. A couple of guys approached her for a dance, but she politely refused them. They weren’t bad looking at all, but strangely, she wasn’t interested…

A while later, they arrived at the nightclub nestled in the dense flora on the city’s outskirts to a waiting group. None of them knew Padma’s identity. Aarti had a tough time arranging for fake IDs for both of them. Padma for hiding her true identity and Aarti for her underage. They quickly went to a changing room along with the waiting group and changed into their party wear. Aarti helped her with the make-up and Padma was unrecognizable in the smoky eyes and bright nude wet shine lipstick, the brownish dazzle highlighting her non-existent pout.

Soon they were grooving to the latest Bollywood hits on the dimly lit dance floor. Padma didn’t feel claustrophobic despite the crowd swelling.

She felt liberated. She felt free… for once in her 18 years, she was living life as per her free will. No rules and regulations, no security entourage choking her, no judgments about the royal family etiquettes since no one here knew her. She felt like she was in a different world.

The music changed to soft tunes, and she took a water break with Aarti.

“Want a fruit punch, Padm… I mean Ria?” Aarti corrected immediately.

“Yes, sure Mona…” Padma giggled as she addressed Aarti with her pseudo name.

A minute later, as she finished the drink, she decided not to dance as her new heels were biting into her feet. She bent down to loosen the strap of her footwear when she felt someone watching her… yet again. Instantly she stood to her total height and looked around. The world spun as the drink she just had threatened to rise her food pipe.

The dim lights weren’t helping, but she thought she saw someone move behind a pillar a little ahead of the bar. She turned around and saw Aarti dancing with her friends and decided to check on the person. It wouldn’t do any harm, would it? No one knew her here.

Just then, someone strutted before her.

The giant of a man reeked of alcohol, and she was immediately put off. But wait… he seemed familiar. That crooked nose… where had she seen it? Was he the one following them?

He chuckled unsteadily.

“So, the high and mighty princess is here amongst us lesser mortals?”

Padma was stunned. How on earth did he know? It was time to leave before anyone else got a whiff of her true identity. She turned around but couldn’t see Aarti anywhere. The strobe lights now began to play havoc with her senses. Why was she suddenly seeing double?

She felt she was swaying. She felt her head grow heavier by the second as if someone was continuously loading something on it. Nausea rose yet again. Finally, the man came closer and held her hand. She didn’t want to go with him but found herself being dragged along with him. His hands dug painfully into her biceps, and she knew she would have the bruises to show. Panicking, she wondered what was happening. Where was Aarti? Was she alright?

Her father would be outraged for sure…

She didn’t have a mobile phone on her. She found herself walking along with the man, stumbling with him, and they went towards the pillar. Why was she unable to resist? He dragged her to a room behind that. Was he watching her all the time? The door shutting with a loud bang as he pushed her in sent a tormenting headache shooting up her skull, and she grasped her head. The lightbulbs around her seemed four in number, and they were dancing.

The lights were switched off, plunging the room into the darkness with just a stream of light tiptoeing through the window. Padma saw a double bed… no it was a singl bed… what was going on?

Her body wasn’t under her control anymore.

She felt the zipper of her dress being lowered, and a pair of hands groped her derriere while a wet pair of lips nipped her neck. She didn’t like it at all. It didn’t feel like what she had read in books, and she wasn’t ready for this. No… this wasn’t right… nothing was right. She only wanted to leave. This was a nightmare.

The man pushed her on the bed, and she bounced on the mattress. The world was reeling around her… No … no this shouldn’t happen… No… who was this man? He knew her. He pushed her further as she sank into the mattress, and she felt powerless to move as if she was paralyzed. She wanted to scream, but it was lodged in her throat. He held her hands above her head even as tears slipped down the corners of her eyes.

Then, he suddenly released her hands, and her blurring swimming vision saw him hold something above her. Oh God was that… a phone? Was he clicking her picture?

She was doomed…

©priyagole

Chapter 3

Padma walked back quickly to the palace, knowing there would be a search party out for her if she delayed any further. Her beautiful memory was now pushed back to a mind’s corner like she always did. She barely remembered the boy anymore. Occasionally though, those pitch-black eyes seated on the brown face came back to torment her once in a while. But these days her heart fluttered whenever she thought of them.

Shaking her head, she passed through the hole in the wall back into the dandelion bush and was glad for the bright morning sun that had dried up traces of her immediate rendezvous.

Standing on the pavement, she looked at the now camouflaged wall. She knew what she had to do tonight. She had the invite in her inbox. Though her email was monitored, no one knew she had another account she operated secretly with Aarti’s help.

There was a party in the neighboring province. A new nightclub was being launched, and though Padma didn’t drink, she wanted to let her hair down and groove to the music for once. She had convinced Aarti to accompany her and through her had purchased a low black dress and make-up as well. Aarti had been against the idea initially, but Padma had been persuasive.

She once wanted to feel ‘life’ without being upping her guard all the time.

The cake cutting ceremony was to get done with by 8 PM after which Aarti and she would escape from the secret place in the garden to the groves. The vast estate ended on the hill slope that let to the lone mountain road. Aarti had arranged for a motorbike to be placed there. There was nothing a wad of cash couldn’t do; she had told Padma. The thrill of coming alive… shot down every other apprehension. Padma couldn’t wait for the evening.

The palace named ‘Devi Bhavan’ was partly built by the Marathas and the British. It eventually was handed over to the ancestors of the current King WamanRao Raje following a pact signed with the British. Today monarchy no longer existed in democratic India; however, the honorary kings performed specific duties towards their subjects. They held court and helped absolve local grievances, and also pursued philanthropy. Like many palaces in the country, Devi Bhavan was also built in the Indo-Saracenic style of architecture, distinctive domes and turrets, and exceptional works of art from different corners of the world. The three-storey palace also had several courtyards, two durbar halls, four Hindu temples, presided by different deities, and even an inbuilt state of an art swimming pool.

However, Devi Bhavan wasn’t outsourced to corporates for upkeep or converting to a five-star hotel, unlike many other palaces. Though Padma’s mother had once come up with an idea of converting a part of the massive palace as a B and B, the King had vetoed the same. A rarity, but he had been concerned about Padma’s security. The queen had given in as well.

Today’s bash was being held in one of the durbars. The Belgian crystal chandeliers had been mounted high and polished, to be lit up in the evening. In addition, the King had arranged for an exhibit of a collection of antiques, weapons, statues, and manuscripts for the visiting guests. The second floor housed all the exhibits that weren’t touched for the last couple of years. Padma’s mother had collected more than half of them. Padma only hoped to get through the evening unscathed.

The first floor of the palace was entirely residential. The King’s quarters lay in the east wing while Padma had moved to the west wing last year. The East wing housed too many memories of the late queen.

The room adjacent to Padma’s was empty while the next room, a spare one was used by Aarti whenever she stayed back, which was more frequent than not ever since Keshav had returned. Padma knew Aarti had feelings for Keshav, but the latter didn’t reciprocate.

That evening Aarti helped Padma drape the offwhite georgette saree. It was specially ordered for her and adorned with golden sequins. The blouse was sleeveless and low back, and she had let her hair fall cascading down her back. The make-up was light with just a touch of rouge and kohl. Like her mother, Padma had a broad lower jaw and large eyes. However, unlike her mother’s natural black, Padma’s eyes were speckled with brown hues. She loved horseriding and swimming and had developed a good physique not to mention the right curves. She often read romance books that Aarti smuggled into the palace.

As she stared at her profile in the mirror, Padma wondered if she would ever have the kind of romance she had red in books. She didn’t know if she even had the right to ‘want’ it…

Padma often wondered if romantic love ever existed. But whenever she thought of it, those sobbing black orbs from a decade ago danced before her mind’s eye. She failed to understand the reason, though. She pushed those feelings away as they only caused heartburn. She didn’t know who he was or where he was… was he even alive?

The bell-ringing indicating the start of the bash brought her back to the present.

“Wow, Padma you look hot and sexy…” Whistled Aarti as she admired her.

“You look amazing yourself Aarti…”

Aarti blushed turning a shade of crimson, matching her baby pink salwar kameez.. Padma knew Aarti wanted to get closer to Keshav.

Though they all played together as kids, the dynamics had now changed, especially since Keshav had returned.

“By the way…” Padma whispered though the maids were out of earshot. “…Is the bag ready?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, it’s all arranged. Wait for my signal, and we shall make our escape.”

Padma walked ahead and moved towards the Durbar, followed by Aarti and the maid entourage.

Evevryone stood applauding and Padma looked around wide-eyed at the show of opulence that she despised. Her father walked towards her in his royal grace and taking her hand led her to the bejeweled satin covered couch.

Once everyone settled there was a cultural program to entertain and Padma could feel all eyes on her. She hated that they made her uncomfortable. Her mother would never have agreed to this, definitely not in the name of tradition. Suddenly there was silence and Padma heard heavy footsteps.

She didn’t have to look up to see who it was. The MLA of the nearby province, Koini, Rajendra Majumdar strode in with his cortege. He was her father’s perennial nemesis, and there had been many instances of exchange of words over the development of the provinces. Both the provinces shared the breathtaking Dabhosa water falls and the MLA always butted heads with her father against the use of resources for tourism. He had also been against the fort restoration and had fought tooth and nail with her late mother. Padma hated the guy since her parents often stressed and argued because of him.

That evening he walked in with a massive bouquet held them up to her. On her father’s nod, she accepted them. The MLA’s obnoxious perfume made her gag, and she wanted nothing more than to flee…

“A very happy birthday to the beautiful princess Padmavati Raje. God bless you, child, with the best of everything… You were a gift from Devi maa, and we hope you live up to the large expectations the people of your province have from you….”

He laughed over his statement and walked towards the food counter.

The large three-tier cake was wheeled in and Padma cut the cake amidst singing and clapping.

The King took the mic in his hands and stood, calling for everyone’s attention.

“With Maa Bhavani’s blessings, my daughter Padmavati is officially the crowned princess from today. At the same time, I have decided to arrange her marriage with a very eligible boy who will help her with the duties of a queen after her coronation once she turns 21. So Keshav, come up here please…”

Padma watched with her mouth hanging open, and she felt Aarti stiffen next to her as Keshav who looked equally bewildered walked in dressed in a beige-colored Shervani. Keshav looked handsome, but Padma couldn’t help that she had no feelings for him besides friendship. He stood smiling as the King continued.

“… meet Keshav Chitnis, my future son-in-law. He is a post-graduate….” The King drawled on, and everyone clapped and congratulated Padma and Keshav.

The rest of the hour was a blur, and Padma made her excuse to drag Aarti out of the Durbar.

Petrichor earth invited her into her fold

Under the rhapsodic sanguine firmament

Her heart set on renewed voyeur

Hope is just a sunshine sliver.

©priyagole

Chapter 2

Padma freshened up and walked towards her window overlooking the most beautiful garden around the palace. The ornate fountain stared back at her. The glorious marble foundation surrounding the fountain had been specially commissioned when Padma was born. It had the hardened imprints of her palms and feet embossed on its edge.

Padma blinked back tears as emotions threatened to engulf her into their tentacles. It had been like this as everything around her reminded her of her mother.

Sighting movement in the corner of her eye, she looked towards her right to see Aarti chatting with the royal cook’s daughter, probably reprimanding her about the extra spice in the curry last night. Padma smiled and thanked her blessings.

When Padma was born, she was the inevitable heir to the province, the future queen. There was a boy, her older brother who was kidnapped as an infant and later found dead floating in a pond near the plains below. The perps were never found though there were rumors that someone who didn’t want a heir apparent had done the gruesome deed.

As a result, her parents were forever overprotective following suspected threats to her life. She wasn’t allowed to venture outside the palace walls and barely had friends. One was Aarti and the other was Keshav, Devraj Chitnis’s only son. Chitnis was in charge of the royal treasury and accounts. Back after finishing his post-graduate studies in Business Management from the UK, Keshav had been involved with the administration of the vast palace estate. The King had also inducted Keshav into the royal advisory committee.

Padma knew that the King intended to make Keshav his son-in-law to keep everything within the family. Keshav, too was in love with her for a long time, but she had always fended off his subtle advances. Nevertheless, Padma didn’t want to lose her childhood friend and the beautiful memories of their growing-up years.

A sudden pocket of air hit her face, bringing her back to the present with a jolt. She could feel the walls closing in on her and knew she had to get out… out of the palace.

Dressing up in her black jeans and black t-shirt, tying her luscious mane into a high ponytail and rushing it into a black bandana, she quickly wore her sneakers and rushed downstairs stealthily. She looked around for guards and exited her end of the enormous palace, finding no one. She ran across the lawns staying in the shadows and hiding from the CCTV. She knew the blind spots well, having practiced this drill umpteen times. She sprang into the specially grown Dandelion bush, taking care not to trample on the flowers, but her sneakers sunk into the wet earth.

Swearing under her breath, she made her way to the end of the garden, where she had slowly and steadily made a hole in the wall for the last couple of months. Every time she made a hole it would eventually get repaired and she had to start all over again.

This time she had been careful to hide her craftmanship well. This was her only secret kept from Aarti. The rain had worsened the job, and the soil was wet, making it very slippery, but Padma didn’t care. She had to get out.

She slowly stepped out, half her outfit already muddy and probably her face too. But vanity was the least of her concerns, and she was glad to get camouflaged. She sprinted across the tree groves, more than half of them planted and nurtured by her mother when she had arrived as a new bride into the palace. One of them in particular, a mango tree right at the center of the artificial forest, was planted where they had buried Padma’s pet dog years ago. For the last two years, she wasn’t allowed to visit this area and hence she had to resort to coming in hidden.

She climbed up the tree swiftly, glad that her skills hadn’t gone rusty in the last two years. The ruffling of the heavily laden tree leaves welcomed her amidst the boxwood fragrance of their freshness. Her restless heart calmed down instantly but suddenly, there were some strange flashbacks. She had ventured this place two years ago, that night… she had set out to look for her mother…..

The branches of the trees lumbering downward had brushed her as she had run; the heavy rain had made the ground slippery and slushy. Her birthday outfit was totally ruined and wet, sticking to her body, the shivering giving her a premonition of something wrong.

But why was the rest of it a blur? Padma only knew she had woken up the next day on the cold bench in the palace lawn, and the royal maids had carried her back to her room. The King had been busy looking for his wife and had not noticed her missing.

Unfortunately, Padma remembered nothing beyond this grove. Her nightmares often had bleak black and white images that were somewhat pixeled and blurred. She couldn’t make out anything clearly, just that she was scared to death. What were they?

She settled onto one of the branches watching the vast expanse of the wet earth and the trees around her, the shining dew on their leaves smiling at her like long-lost friends. A faint memory from her childhood surfaced when she had newly learned to climb up the tree along with Keshav and Aarti and some palace helps.

As she bit into a juicy mango after rubbing the stalk free of the sap, she was thrown back to that day in her childhood when she had first learned to bite into the fruit directly. Those glorious dense black eyes high on the proud tanned face resting heavily on the tall lean body stayed with her….

She had once accompanied her mother during her rare visits outside the palace to a house in the adjoining province. There was a some crying, and people had gathered, she now knew was a funeral, but she was barely eight years old then. She remembered the lone house though cozy; it lacked the richness she was used to seeing growing up.

She had slowly walked towards the adjoining garden, mesmerized by the rose shrubbery adorning the borders. In the chaos, she had given her guards the slip and ventured into the area inside the garden. She saw colossal mango trees all around and continued to walk, glad to be away from the scorching sun.

Then she heard muffled cries and walked towards the direction from where she thought it came. Instead, she saw a young boy huddled into a tree sobbing uncontrollably.

“What happened…” She asked, gently touching him and moving behind as he startled. “…Why are you crying…?”

Those shiny wet black orbs pierced her little heart as they stared at her, tears still streaming down his cheeks. She went close to him and sat next to him on the boulder, unmindful of her spotless salwar kameez getting dirt on it.

The boy didn’t answer, so she continued.

 “If you tell me what happened, I shall tell my aai and baba. They will help you and… they will drive the ghosts away…”

The boy shook his head and smirked at her. But she was persistent.

“Do you want to eat mangoes?” she asked him, and he looked at her as if she had grown two horns.

“I don’t want anything. Just… go away from here.” He spoke in a voice that bordered between a high and a low pitch, something like between an adult and a child. She saw his tears begin their journey yet again.

“Do you want to be my friend? I have only two friends, Aarti and Keshav. You will have fun too… you will not cry then.” She blurted out.

The boy shook his head yet again. He was much older than her, and as he stood up, dusting his clothes, she saw he was taller as well.

“Go away from here before anyone sees you. Here take this….” He gave her a mango from a basket nearby, rubbing the sap. “…you can directly remove the top portion…like this here and chew the rest. Go…” He turned to pick the basket wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his thin cotton shirt.

“But why were you crying?” She couldn’t contain her curiosity.

“My mother died today… anything else?” He abruptly said, and her heart fell. She couldn’t imagine being without her mother, and her eyes filled.

“Come home with me…” She said tearfully, holding his thin hand. “…Be my friend. You shouldn’t be alone.”

The boy tightened his grip and sobbed aloud as she held his hand and cried with him. Finally, he dropped her back to the rose shrubbery after a while.

“Go on….” He said hoarsely. “…Everyone must be worried about you, dear princess. You have been gone for long.”

Before she could reply, he disappeared back into the thicket. It was then she realized she hadn’t even asked his name…

That she thought was a memory thread

Turned out to be a façade instead.

Was there an ounce of reality

Or just an illusion with no clarity?

©priyagole

Chapter 1

Two years later

“Padma…? Where are you…?” A high-pitched voice screeched through the walls of the ‘Raje wadi’ palace in the Jawar province. Staring tall atop the hill directly facing the enormous Western Ghats in Maharashtra, the palace was a sight to behold.

Padmavati Raje, the princess of Jawar stirred and stretched as she pulled the soft pillow over her face. Why was Aarti screaming? Didn’t she know Padma couldn’t sleep late into the night? Her sleep was abounding in nightmares… something she couldn’t tell anyone, especially her father, Wamanrao Raje, the honourary King of the province.

The nightmares seemed so vivid; she wasn’t sure if it was simply the chimeras or something she had witnessed. They were bleak black and white blurring images. Padma chuckled softly, thinking how a Bollywood director would have a field day using her story.

“Padma… sleepy eyes, its 7 AM” Aarti barged inside her elaborate room and jerked the curtains open.

“Oh, Aarti, why on earth are you waking me up so early? Haven’t I said not to disturb me before 9 AM? I was studying late last night.” Padma wailed.

As Padma sat up, leaning against the bed’s backrest, Aarti held a rectangular gift-wrapped item towards her.

“Happy birthday, princess…” Aarti singsonged, swaying to the imaginary beats, and despite everything, Padma smiled.

Aarti was her father’s closest ally, Anand Bhosale’s only daughter, and childhood friend. As someone who had grown up with her, Aarti followed all the restrictions and rules levied upon Padma by default of being a princess.

Unlike the royalty in the rest of the country, Padma’s life was different. She didn’t have the freedom to move outside the palace premises, let alone abroad, for education.

As kids, Aarti had played with her running around the palace walls hiding behind the pillars as they played hide-and-seek or rushing towards the kitchen to taste the special culinary treat of the day. Aarti had regaled her with stories from school as Padma had been homeschooled since five.

Aarti had held her as she had cried when her mother had passed two years ago…

Aarti had also been there for her, staying back in this room when frightening mirages had confronted her after her mother’s untimely demise. Motherless since birth and a year younger, Aarti had been Padma’s shadow forever. But off late Aarti had started junior college in the nearby province, and her visits to the palace had reduced.

Padma missed her friend dearly.

Aarti waved a perfectly manicured hand before her, getting Padma back to the present. She yawned and opened the gift. It was a beautiful pen with her name embossed on it.

“This is a small gift to my studious friend to remind you to pursue your lost passion… poetry.” Aarti declared chirping.

Padma’s smile fell. “No, Aarti. Ever since aai passed, I haven’t been able to get rid of this mental block. I can’t write anymore. You know how much aai enjoyed poetry…”

Padma looked at the framed portrait of her late mother, Gayatri Raje. The golden embossing on the frame brought out her mother’s beautiful black and white hues, and when the sunlight fell on the portrait, Padma felt her mother’s presence close by. Dr. Gayatri Raje had been a doctor, an obstetrician and ran a charity hospital for the province but was frequented by patients from across the state.

Padma blinked back tears. She shared her mother’s looks and love for poetry. She was currently doing her BA in English literature via distance learning and aspired to be a teacher someday.

“You should start writing again Padma… Aai saheb would want the same for you.”

“No, Aarti… I simply can’t. Thank you so much, though, for being there for me always…” Padma spoke wearily as she yawned and got off the bed.

“er… Padma, there is something I want to share….” Arti avoided looking at her.

“What is it Aarti?”

“Um… Nana saheb has thrown a party in the evening today. To celebrate your coming of age and… as per the customs, er… there will be a few prospective grooms coming with their families too.”

“What nonsense is this…?” Padma fumed. “… aai died on this day barely two years ago and I am just… just 18. What is baba thinking?” Padma stared at her favourite framed picture of her parents taken during their wedding that she kept close to her bed. Her mother was the most beautiful bride she had ever seen…

“Padma, it’s just a formality. Nana Saheb is the King, and though monarchy no longer exists in the true sense of the word, he still has certain rights and duties. You of all the people should know that…” Aarti reasoned. Sighing, she continued. “…Padma, your father loves you so much. He misses his wife too. But he has placed grief aside and plunged into his duties for the benefit of this province. So, can’t you humor him? You will be officially the crowned princess today. You only have to be present at the bash. Your saree is ready too…”

The rest of her tirade fell on deaf ears as Padma’s eyes filled again. She missed her mother every single day and especially today.

Two years ago, on her 16th birthday, her mother had died, brutally murdered along with her bodyguard cum driver in the fort that she loved so much and dreamt of restoring someday. That evening, Padma had waited for her mother to arrive before cutting the cake. The rest of it was all a blur…

Padma’s birthday had always been an event to rejoice and celebrate. Born to her parents a decade after marriage, she had been the apple of their eyes. Her mother belonged to the lineage of the Malsures, who were close to the warrior king Shivaji Maharaj. Her father was no less a warrior himself and held a modern outlook as he supported her career and social causes with equal enthusiasm.

Padma had always wanted to become a teacher and had hoped to build a residential school for girls who didn’t get the opportunity back home or had to travel miles for high school studies. Through those girls, Padma wished to live her missed school life.

But most of all, Padma didn’t aspire to become a queen. She was not interested in politics, and before her death, her mother had pledged to support her daughter. The King had grieved in his way but held up a facade of strength to ensure he carried out his duties. He barely spoke with Padma in the last couple of years.

It also included following up with the police to discover what had happened that fateful night in the fort. Who had murdered her mother, the queen, and the dear doctor of the province? Her bodyguard was one of the best then what happened and where was the rest of the security that evening? There had been no evidence that could corroborate any suspicions.

As a result, the palace security had been tightened, and Padma was forbidden to leave the palace premises without a security entourage.

Padma, however, wanted to venture out and ask around the hospital spearheaded by her late mother. She was sure her mother was up to something. She wanted to visit the fort, which was now off-limits for everyone. She felt claustrophobic within the palace walls. Even today, the feeling of hopelessness crept up her spine…

She clutched at her turquoise pendant shaped like a canine tooth… her mother’s last gift to her. Her mother had gifted it on the morning of her 16^th birthday.

“Padma, my child, this will remind you of me even when I am gone… this is my legacy. It’s all me. Remember, you are never alone. You will be carrying this weight around with you…”

Padma hadn’t understood the cryptic speech, but her mother always had been like that. She used to throw up riddles for little Padma to solve and gift her with titbits whenever she was successful. Padma wished to go back to those carefree times…

Padma now had a single goal in life. She had to find her mother’s murderer. But only if it were that easy…

Her mind a dark road of despair

Bisected by steady flashes of fear

The perennial sense of impending danger

Heart threatening to burst out of the chest chamber

©priyagole

Five years ago

The rains lashed the terrain surrounded by the dark Western ghats of the Indian subcontinent. The lightning zipped through the pregnant clouds floundering upon the unsuspecting plains. The panoramic exquisiteness of Jawhar province, which would otherwise entice tourists, now stood before her eyes spelling doom.

Her hands were tied, and her a tape across her lips had prevented her from screaming her lungs out. Her meticulously worn crisp cotton saree had become a rag slithering around her body as she tried to sit straight, soaking in the downpour. She didn’t know how long she lay here in these fort ruins. The fort stood the test of time for the great Marathas and was now in ruins. Nevertheless, she had promised herself to restore it to its past glory. After all, it was handed over to her from her forefathers and eventually would go to her precious daughter.

Thinking about her princess brought a sudden gush of tears as her heart broke. Would her daughter and husband ever know what befell her today? She turned around in the darkness, and her eyes fell on the brutally assaulted limp body of her man Friday. The staccato of the piercing lightning lit up the grotesque body, and she wailed, knowing her muffled cries would go unheard. She cried for the life snuffed out of a loyal man. She cried for being unable to meet her family for one last time… for the danger that lay in store for them… for being unable to protect them.

She looked up at the drenched but stunning form of Maa Bhavani, the presiding Goddess of this dilapidating temple within the fort. She had planned to restart the humble puja offerings to the Goddess once the restorations were done. The magnificent idol with her multiple flagellating-like arms adorned by decorated jewellery motifs, she had hoped to bring in her heirloom, a set of bright gold ornaments to grace the idol.

As she stared at the stone tiger mounted by the Goddess, she hoped her daughter would someday discover her gifts. She had anticipated something amiss and had done her best to conceal all she had gathered and left it with her daughter. She hoped someday the daughter would find it… and use it appropriately to realize her dreams. Dreams that she and her daughter had envisioned together now were shattered. The lone rusted bell hanging from the covering temple ceiling swayed violently, adding to nature’s cacophony around her.

The muffled footsteps she had heard a while ago were now loud and clear, and her blurring vision struggled to make out the forms. The huge man, their leader whom she knew only too well, strutted forward, standing wide-based before her, water dripping from his raincoat, joining the pooling water around her.

 “This is the last warning to you… tell me what I want to know,” The man bellowed, his voice echoing louder within the walls of the ruined fort but still meek before nature’s fury.

“Over my dead body…” She laughed aloud.

She only saw the anger simmering in his eyes erupt as he lashed out at her… The blow on her head was the last she felt, even as the gore poured over her face blending with the water.

‘live well, my…princes,’ she whispered as everything went numb and dark and life left her.

©priyagole

Princess Padmavati is in danger. Shiv is the royal bodyguard, and he will leave no stone unturned to save her, even give up his life for her.

Their attraction towards each other surpasses all boundaries as they ignite their passion. Their feelings for each other reach the zenith, but Shiv is skeptical about their happily ever after. After all, he has a secret which, if revealed, can destroy the only good in his life, princess Padmavati.

As they uncover each other’s lives, will they come together forever, or will the raging inferno of danger turn them into ash?

Read the first book in ‘the bodyguard series: Special Protection Services (SPS)’

Princess Padmavati is in danger. Shiv is the royal bodyguard, and he will leave no stone unturned to save her, even give up his life for her.

Their attraction toward each other surpasses all boundaries as they ignite their passion. Their feelings for each other reach the zenith, but Shiv is skeptical about their happily ever after. After all, he has a secret which, if revealed, can destroy the only good in his life, princess Padmavati.

As they uncover each other’s lives, will they come together forever, or will the raging inferno of danger turn them into ash?

Read the first book in ‘the bodyguard series: Special Protection Services (SPS)’