The Dark River and Other Stories by Krishan Chander

Author:Krishan Chander
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: HarperPerennial
Published: 2014-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

That night I went back to the fort. Not because I wanted to disobey or hurt Naseema’s feelings, but because I felt the fort was calling me. Whenever I looked at it, I felt I was drawn in that direction as if by a magnet. It seemed the fort too had missed me.

Once inside the fort, I felt cut off from rest of the world. Not only me, but the entire fort heaved a sigh of relief after a long, long time. It seemed the walls, the floors, the corridors were welcoming me back. It seemed to be crowded with smiling servants and maidservants, all looking happy. The entire fort was alive once again.

On the walls of the fort, I always saw, or felt, two different unseen worlds – one was the world of the Rajputs and the other, that of Mughal glory. I could always summon up the two worlds independent of one another whenever I wanted to. I was not interested in the world of slaves and courtesans. I might have taken some interest in that old world if I had not seen Shevati’s face earlier. But as the night drew closer and the fort came back to life, I fearlessly confronted the slaves, the Rajput infantry and the chieftains and then went up to my room. I didn’t like to talk to them because I wanted complete silence and solitude. So, the first unseen world disappeared at my command and the fort suddenly became deserted. I then held my breath and waited for Shevati.

She came post-midnight, at about two in the morning.

By now I knew what time she would come. She never came before midnight, when one was terribly sleepy, until the imagination got tired of waiting and the mind was restless. She came only in the late, somnolent hours. She never came until one had hung body and soul, mind and consciousness in infinite space.

That day, I had facilitated her arrival. I had put off the light and lain on my bed, my body completely relaxed. My eyes were tired and all around me were whirlpools of darkness.

I was ready for her when she came.

First came the odour. Now my bed was suspended in the air. She was bending over and looking at me.

‘You have forgotten me, Laali.’

‘I haven’t, Shevati.’

‘You love Naseema.’

‘I don’t, Shevati.’

‘Then why did you not come here all these days?’

‘I was not allowed to.’

‘I waited here for you every night.’

‘I was very ill, Shevati. I was unconscious.’

‘But I was conscious. You were in my sight as long as you were here. I was always with you. Perhaps you are not aware that I was with you one whole night in the bed and felt every movement of your body in my being. But I could not absorb your fever because I am without a body. It is so easy to love living women like Naseema.’

‘I don’t love her, nor does she love me.’

‘You say that, but I am not too sure.’

‘Why?’

‘Even a dead woman cannot escape jealousy.

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