Next morning she met him. He was in lot of pain. His wounds weren't serious ones. But she felt guilt inside her bursting out in form of tears in her eyes. He was in this state because of her. She couldn't forgive herself for his state.
His wounds were healing but his heart hadn't. "Why was she here?", he thought. Why was she playing games with his heart? This was not right. First she tries to avoid him and now she cares. Why?
She touched the wounds and said, " I am sorry." He didn't care. He didn't look at her and pretended to close his eyes. She looked at his small room. Unlike her, it was too tiny to even fit two people. The walls were made of mud. The door was almost broken and the window was tiny to let the sunshine reach his room. The bed was the only furniture. It was small and uncomfortable. She felt responsible for the loss of his income.
The head servant had taken her to him after her constant begging. He was with them as translator of emotions and language. He was the only one who understood both. He knew the love shared between them was unique and wouldn't be supported by anyone. It would die like the other epic love story. However the only difference would be their story wouldn't be remembered.
As she spoke, head servant explained him. Srinivasan didn't want to believe but he had to." Ask her if she did care about me, why doesn't she proclaim her love in front of everyone. Why is she scared? Doesn't she believe in me? Does she think that I am too weak to face these cold blooded people." , he said. The head servant decoded the language to her in her language. "I know you are strong. But you don't know that I am weak. I can't see them do anything to you. I fear for your life. I have done so much damage to your life now. I don't want to do more. Tell him, this" she told the head servant.
As the head servant made him understand, Srinivasan got up slowly from his bed. It took him several minutes to walk towards her ( she was standing few yards away from her) Love knows no language. It only understands feelings and emotions.
( to be continued)
His wounds were healing but his heart hadn't. "Why was she here?", he thought. Why was she playing games with his heart? This was not right. First she tries to avoid him and now she cares. Why?
She touched the wounds and said, " I am sorry." He didn't care. He didn't look at her and pretended to close his eyes. She looked at his small room. Unlike her, it was too tiny to even fit two people. The walls were made of mud. The door was almost broken and the window was tiny to let the sunshine reach his room. The bed was the only furniture. It was small and uncomfortable. She felt responsible for the loss of his income.
The head servant had taken her to him after her constant begging. He was with them as translator of emotions and language. He was the only one who understood both. He knew the love shared between them was unique and wouldn't be supported by anyone. It would die like the other epic love story. However the only difference would be their story wouldn't be remembered.
As she spoke, head servant explained him. Srinivasan didn't want to believe but he had to." Ask her if she did care about me, why doesn't she proclaim her love in front of everyone. Why is she scared? Doesn't she believe in me? Does she think that I am too weak to face these cold blooded people." , he said. The head servant decoded the language to her in her language. "I know you are strong. But you don't know that I am weak. I can't see them do anything to you. I fear for your life. I have done so much damage to your life now. I don't want to do more. Tell him, this" she told the head servant.
As the head servant made him understand, Srinivasan got up slowly from his bed. It took him several minutes to walk towards her ( she was standing few yards away from her) Love knows no language. It only understands feelings and emotions.
( to be continued)
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