Heart

Summary: aag hai uss mein, kiss kiss ko jhala de, pata nahi...

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The larger dinner party had departed the night before, leaving Nawab Hussain Siddiquie's family, Veer and Amrit around a much larger dining table for breakfast.

There is more familiarity here than it was usually in Daulatabadh state.

Amrit basks in the warmth and ease they share, the inconsequential small talk and little laughs.

Anwar reminds her of Uday, a composition of good humour and affection. His brothers Hedar and Omar were the rightful brats of the family, trying to pull legs all around the place.

They pass around plates, and Amrit offers to pour the tea. The Nawab, a silent man who had gracefully aged mutters a blessing and touches her head when she gives him his cup.

"Allah aap ko himmat de beta," he says. "These are difficult times."

"And difficult people," Farida adds from his side. She looks over at Veer when Amrit settles down beside him.

Veer doesn't notice as he is buttering toast.

"Aaj jaana zaroori hai kya Veer?" She asks then. Veer looks up, places the toast on Amrit's plate and clears his throat.

"Ji. Raaste mein kuch kaam hai," he catches Amrit's eye and raises a brow. "Eat. Biwi sahab."

"Kuch zada hi meherbaan hai aap Veer sahab," Omar smirks at the two of them. "Unki khaane se jaise aapke pait bhar tha ho. Hayee, hayee, hayee!"

"Let me butter you up as well," Anwar raps his knuckles on Omar's head and turns to his mother with a frown.

"Are you two up to some khaand again? Kya karwayi aap Veer se Ammie jaan?"

Amrit turns and looks at Veer, searching for answers. Veer munches his food in silence. Farida sips her juice. Anwar impatient now, turns to one of the aids standing at the back.

"Bring me today's copy of Aawaz," he says. Getting the paper, turning the pages he continues. "You two should have called this Aafat not Aawaz."

Nawab Hussain chortles.

"Oh. Uh." Anwar says, then he looks at Veer, giving him a very older brother - ish glare that Veer puts down his half eaten toast.

"Not a grain of lie in it," he says rather petulantly. "Woh chai dijiye Biwi sahab."

"Aap ko bada Maza aata hai na Veer - making yourself a joke? This, this is stupid. Dangerous even - aapki begam bhi toh saat hai, unki toh fikra kijiye."

Veer reaches out with a hand, silently requiring the news paper.

Anwar hands it over, still torn between concern and displeasure. Veer gives Amrit the offended paper. His expression taut.

"Decide for yourself biwi sahab."

Amrit looks down and finds an article - which seems to be one in a series - written by some Akif. In very precise sharp wording it sets out an account of Rani Nalini Devi's actions during years prior to her current political career.

It does not recognize her by name but the hints are so strong that nobody would make a mistake. With such details that only very close associates would be privy to, the article paints a picture of a woman who is cold blooded and cruel to her subordinates - a heartless mistress in a golden palace.

The general story, picking up from somewhere it must have ended in the previous issue - narrates how she had chosen men to be send for war service, specifically those that she did not want to see returning. In elaborate terms the article ended up charging her with deliberate murder using words of her own teenage son.

And what the consequence of those words were, said the ending line, will be revealed in the next issue.

"Yeh talvaar jo kudh ko Akif bulata hai, is sitting beside you - Kuwar Rani sahab. Daar sirf inke alfaz mein hai, akal mein nahi." Anwar bites out and

Amrit shivers.

Veer wrote this? Veer - put his own mother's career in such a perilous position? What was he going to do when she retaliates?

"Don't scare her Anwar," Veer cuts him off, watching how Amrit had gone pale. "Dekhiye kaise badi badi aankon se dekh rahi hai?" He reaches out and pats her hand.

"Humein kuch nahi honga biwi sahab. Aap befikar rahiye."

"Nalini Devi is going to find out one day Veer," Farida says slowly. "While I agree with you that showing her the mirror to her own shortcomings is required - I'm not going to throw you into the lion's mouth either. She will not take this lying down, you should be ready for a retaliation -"

"Aisa kuch hai hi nahi jo unnhone pehele na kiya ho." Veer shrugs.

"Woh ma hai aapke." Amrit says slowly. Farida nods at her, agreeably.

"And things you think you saw, Veer, was what she would do with a disobedient son, not a problematic journalist who would end up burying her career under his stories. My advice to you is to stay here for the day -"

Instead of replying to her, Veer turns to Amrit.

"Haan. Woh ma hai. That's exactly why I wish to pull her out of this decadent path she has set herself on. Jo sach hai na Amrit, usse baya karne se darr na nahi. Kabhi nahi. Because if truth is kept under lock and key, under veils, inside boxes - the fate of this nation would end before it begins. Nafrat hai humein aise loogon se jine kudh kabar nahi ke woh kaise jhooth mein jee rahe hai."

Says the man whose entire marriage is a charade, Amrit thinks but says nothing. Veer excuses himself from the table and Farida sighs.

"Aag hai uss mein," she says watching Veer's retreating figure. "Kiss kiss ko jhala de patha nahi."

*
Bonus Chapter

Summary:  "Shaadi, Shaadi hoti hai, Kuwar Sahab, Sachchi ya Jhoothi nahi hoti..."
**TW: Dark themes, harm, mentions of violence, injury and blood.**

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She signs off her life in a piece of paper.

Amrit wonders later if it had made things easier or harder. If she had come closer to Veer or gone further from her own self. Veer seems to know her where she herself is unaware, if that does not unsettle her Amrit knows not what will.

"Phere nahi le the hai," he had said, in such a matter of fact way that he could have been commenting about dinner. But then his eyes are on her, reading, knowing. "I know those rituals mean something different to you. I don't want to impose on the memories you've shared with him. Marry me in court Amrit, marry me on papers."

It doesn't change the fact that be it over a long process of rituals or the stroke of a pen, Amrit has killed a part of herself, and there was no mourning - there was no celebration. Nothing in the world around them has changed.

"Won't you ask for a wedding gift Biwi Sahab?" Veer asks her, his eyes remain on the road, but his lips tug into a crooked smile.

Amrit wishes she could look at life with such indifference. In that moment she envies him all his bitter smiles.

"Ek shart hai, aur ek guzarish," she tells him now. "Which would you hear first, the condition or the request?"

Veer glances at her, sun warmed eyes glittering in amusement.

"You can only ask for one wedding gift biwi sahab. Not two. Bathadijiye phir -"

"Aap ko sharab chhodna honga," she says, watching with satisfaction how his smile dies out. "I know it's not easy, but koshish karna honga. Rani ma is not the only one who lives in a lie - Kuwar sahab. Aap bhi kabhi kabhi aayine se wakif hojaiye."

"Yeh shart hai ya guzarish?" Veer asks curtly.

"Shart. Agar main apni mohabbat se doorr ho sakthi hoon toh aap apne Aadat ko bhi chhod hi sakthe hai."

"Hmm. You've grown into a very skilled negotiator. Hum iss baat par sochenge, you have my word." His eyes are curious now. "What is the request?"

"Time. I want time. Things have changed so fast and so much that I-" she swallows and looks away.

Veer is no longer smiling.

"Humein tumse koi umeed nahi hai Amrit. Are we not clear that - yeh shaadi sirf un kagazo mein sach hai, bandh darwazon ke peeche nahi."

"Shaadi, shaadi hoti hai kuwar sahab - sachchi ya jhoothi nahi hoti."

Veer opens his mouth to reply but then slams down on the breaks instead. Ahead of them on the road a person is laying, covered in a flower patterned Dupatta.

"What the bloody -" Veer mutters under his breath. Something about his manner changes as if a switch had been pulled. "Amrit gaadhi se uttarna nahi." The tenor of his tone is such that Amrit feels a chill in the mid afternoon. "Tumhe hamari kasam."

"Veer don't go -" her outstretched fingers fail to catch him, only brushing against his sleeve as he disembarks.

Oh Farida had known this!

Farida had warned them that they would be lying in wait. The irony that Rani Ma didn't know she was acting against her own remaining son, that Veer thought he had seen the extent of his mother's cruelty- flashes through Amrit's head.

This family - her family now, was such a poisonous tree. Pretty at a distance but rotten  from the inside.

The man who lies in wait under the flower patterned Dupatta reveals himself when Veer approaches - brandishing a knife. Veer dodges his strike and maneuvers around him on his light footwork.

He grabs the wrist that holds the knife and bends it back, making the man drop the knife with a hiss. For the difference between their sizes, Veer is much more proficient in his attack than the bigger man - who was slower and less precise.

Veer almost laughs at the fact that his mother - the great Rani of Daulatabadh couldn't find a better hitman.

But then Amrit screams. The split second he turns reflexively his own opponent takes a punch to his stomach.

Veer feels breath being knocked off him. On the other hand an accomplice has Amrit at the point of a broken bottle. Veer gets a sickening realization that he had broken it on her head itself. From her hairline blood trickles down - thick and ominous - washing off the Sindoor he had filled her parting with. Her eyes that stare at him are glassy, unfocused.

"Veer...!" She chokes, clearly not worried about herself but about something behind him.

Behind him, that man is picking up his knife and his accomplice has the gale to press that broken glass against Amrit's throat.

The rage that takes him over that bubbles forth and consumes him, frightens Veer for a moment.

Amrit, Amrit is all he could see.

That one person who promised she would never leave, that one person who cared - who still cared - they had dared to hurt her.

For a moment, just a moment the knife wielding man pauses, struck looking at Veer's expression. The fear that flickers through his eyes is real but it is already too late for that.

The pause is all Veer needs to punch him. He has been taught this by a professional - not some street fighter, a royal bodyguard that could have taken down a man twice the size of his current opponent.

The satisfying crunch of his fist finding the man's ribs does not clear the red haze that surrounds him.

Veer doesn't delay to see where the man falls, instead he is already pouncing upon the other - the real target of his wrath.

The bottle breaks completely, going into worthless shreds beneath his sole and Veer's fist draws blood.

That idiotic man barely manages to throw a punch edge wise, before he is tackled to the ground. Each crunch of breaking bone only fuels his fury - how dare he, how dare he, how -"

"Kuwar sahab -" her voice is so faint, still it penetrates the haze that surrounds him.

Veer stops, drawing a rattling breath - staring at the chaos he has caused. His hands are sticky with blood - his knuckles are raw and bleeding. There is a gash in his arm. But Amrit - Amrit - !

He reaches her on stumbling feet and she collapses into his arms. Hair matted with blood and face pale, when he draws her close he could hear the chortling of her breathing.

"Veer -" she chokes. "Aap ke galathi nahi hai," she sounds urgent, insistent. Her hands seek and cup his face, making him look at her, look at those eyes where life was fading.

"You are not responsible for this. It was an accident. Haatsa tha, aap ke koi galati nahi hai. Galathi nahi hai."

"Why are you saying like that- kuch nahi honga tumhe... and it's my fault only. I brought you here, I brought them upon us - I- Amrit tum -"

Her eyes were closing, her mouth half parted. Her hand fisted over his collar.

"Randheer..."

"Amrit! Nahi- Amrit!" He hugged her close.

It was Prem all over again, the drums pounding in his ears. It was those guns and his art master in France. It was his father - taking his last breath. Veer couldn't breathe. His vision blurred.

"Amrit. Amrit. Amrit."

She doesn't stir.

"Nahi. Humne tumhe ijazat nahi diye jaane ki. Denge bhi nahi. Kabhi nahi. Tum humein chhod kar kahi nahi jaa sakthi. Suna tumne? Yeh hukum hai humara. Suna tumne? Amrit! AMRIT!"

*

Rani Sahiba sets aside the news paper satisfiedly. This Akif guy would not write again. Such a relief it brought her after so many months. She looked up at Randheer who arrives just in time.

"Did you hand over the envelope well?" She asks him with a small smile.

"Ji Rani sahiba," Randheer who has never yet disappointed her replies. "But those men didn't look rather decent. Is it necessary to involve such people in our election programme?"

"Aap nahi samjhenghe Randheer," she was in such a good mood that she indulges him.

"Rajneeti mein tarah tarah ke logo ki madat leni padthi hai. There are somethings that they can do but we can't. Kher, aap chhod dijiye in baato ko. Tell me could you get hold of my son?"

With satisfaction she watches how Randheer squares his jaw but before she could hear his reply somewhere out in a hallway a telephone begins to ring.

It is Vijendra who answers. For a moment nobody speaks. But Vijendra hears the hushed, tortured breathing.

"Veer, is that you?" The older man asks with dread.

"Papa sahab," Veer speaks in a hushed voice. "I can't breathe - papa sahab..."

"Kya Hua beta? Kaha ho aap dono?"

Rani sahiba stands up hearing fragments of that conversation. Her brow frowns.

"Kya Hua Vijendra Ji?" She asks him.

For this once Vijendra doesn't reply to her, instead addresses an aid.

"Ram Singh ghaadi nikaliye. Humein hospital jaana hai."

**
A bonus chapter to celebrate several things.
1. We crossed 3.0K views and are almost at 3.5K!!
2. 400 votes! Love to everyone who voted!😘😘
3. Chaar Kadam got its highest ranking yet in historical genre 28th out of 42K stories!
4. Somewhere out there in the cannon, Amveer are getting married!!!

I hope you enjoyed this one! Do let me know in the comments. :-) Thanks for reading!