20

CH 20 || Chaotic Days, Sacred Nights

Kiaan

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DAY 1

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I had an appointment with Dr. Phil right before I headed to work, and I was already late with my daily chores. How? Well, surprisingly, I actually slept last night holding my wife's saree. The man whose sleep was a mystery to himself slept like an exhausted kid. When I woke up, it was already seven in the morning. It was quite late for me, considering my day usually starts at four.

When I opened my eyes, I was still holding Simran's saree, but she was no longer on the bed. The skeleton was still there, but my wife was gone, along with the comforter.

How crazy it must have been that my wife actually managed to slip out of her saree as I clutched it too tightly, covered herself with the comforter, and left the room while I was still sleeping. I had no idea when all of that happened, especially when I was the kind of man who would wake up at the slightest sound. My sleep issues were a traumatic disorder, and for some reason, they didn't surface last night, for the very first time in years. The only variable was the presence of my woman.

I did not know whether I should feel happy about it or be worried because I considered getting sound sleep a weakness rather strength.

I was contemplating my sleep issues when I noticed that the terrible-looking skeleton was staring at me. No, not staring, it felt like it could see through my soul, and her smile.... it looked creepy.

Wait...a second....

Smile? See through my soul?

I had to be on drugs to be thinking like my wife. She, on the other hand, did not need any drugs; the wiring of her brain was enough to make her crazy.

The skeleton was actually a bit closer than it should have been, and its head was turned in my direction. No doubt, Simran was behind it all. Covering that bony thing was the only way that could help me. So I pulled the pillow from under my head and put it on its skull. I wish I could smother it with the pillow and kill it.

What's wrong with you? It's already dead. My inner self reminded me.

See...it was all my wife's fault. I had begun to think like her.

Because I had slept in late, I ended up skipping my training with the aces. When I picked up my phone from the bedside cabinet and checked it, I found multiple messages and missed calls from my friends. I didn't want to tell them I had been sleeping. They knew about my disorder, and I wasn't comfortable sharing that I'd actually had a sound sleep for the first time in years. Instead, I decided I'd weave a lie later to explain missing the training.

I was about to get up and go on with my daily chores when I suddenly heard the sound of a bell, like the one in a temple. It was loud and clear, as if it were very close. But there was no temple anywhere near my residence. Even the small temple in my own house didn't have a bell of that frequency.

I wasn't an atheist, but I wasn't a regular worshipper either. I did believe in God, though my prayers were mostly silent and in my mind. The bell rang again, and this time it seemed to be coming from inside my mansion itself.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I got off the bed, headed out of my room, and followed the sound, which was apparently coming from downstairs. Following the sound, I reached the small corner of the house where the temple was, and there were idols of God, too. What I witnessed there had my jaw drop to the ground. My brain needed a moment to catch up to what my eyes had already taken in and processed.

I rubbed my eyes and noticed that instead of God's idols, there were my pictures in frames of all sizes, some quite large, some small, some medium ones, and all of them had my different pictures in them. The largest frame had a garland of flowers draped over it. I also saw a huge bell hung on a brass stand. The bell was huge, but the height of the stand was not that tall, which explained how my dear wife, who was sitting there with her back turned to me, was ringing it while seated.

She was wearing a green saree today, the veil of her saree covered her head. Before I could interrupt her and interrogate her about all the bullshit, she picked up the brass plate for aarti and started singing something, which made all my thoughts hit a wall.

Om Jai Kiaan Devaa,
Swami Jai Kiaan Devaa,
Tum ho ghar ke maalik, tum ho paison ke raja.

Tum bin ghar hai soonaa,
Dil bhi hai veeraanaa,
Tharki ke tum hero, Simran ke ho saajaa.

Om Jai Kiaan Devaa...

[Om, hail Lord Kiaan,
Swami, hail Lord Kiaan,
You're the master of this house, you're the king of all the wealth.

Without you, the home feels empty,
The heart feels all too lonely,
You're the hero of Tharki, and Simran's partner in stealth.

Om, hail Lord Kiaan!]

I was trying to make sense of all of it, but failed to do so. And she was not alone. She had gathered all the staff of the house, who stood around with their hands folded. I raked my hair in frustration, watching my house turn into a mental asylum. I, who was the doctor, was turning into a patient instead.

Once she was done with the aarti, she got up and turned to me. A radiant smile was on her face, and when she looked at me, her smile took the form of a triumphant smirk. However, I was angry. Her pranks should have had limits, but she was already crossing every one of them.

"Simran, what is all this?" I asked, keeping my voice calm even though I was seething inside.

"Pati Devta, you are awake." She came closer, holding the aarti plate.

She started with that Pati Devta thing, and, heck, my head throbbed like a bullet just entered my skull.

[Pati Devta -> God-like Husband]

"Yes, I am awake, all thanks to your worship. Now tell me what stupidity is this?"

She feigned innocence like she was a cow who was just been born with no clue of the world.

"I was just worshipping my husband." She mumbled innocently, and even when I was angry, I just wanted to pull her to me and kiss her like I was starving. 

How could with such a crazy mind she was still this lovely?

"I can see that you were worshipping me. But why?"

"Did you forget about this ritual? I knew you would."

A new ritual now? I wondered what new story she had in her head to narrate, so I waited for her to proceed.

"You are my God now, and I am supposed to worship you for a month like this."

"A month?" I asked, horrified. I would have to witness her worshipping my pictures and calling me Pati Devta for like a month? I would rather have her hit me than suffer through that aarti. It was torturous. At least through her slaps, I could be punished for the sins I had committed by ignoring her and making her believe that I hated her, but this was crueler than that.

"Yeah, because after that you will kill yourself." She whispered for only me to hear. She planned to make me lose my mind, and I would be lying if I said it was not working.

"Shayla.." She called, and Shayla came forward, handed her a coconut.

"I am sure you forgot about the coconut ritual, too."

"What's that now?"

Now, I asked that from my wife, but instead of her, another male staff member standing at a distance replied with, "In this ritual, the wives have to hit the husband's head with a coconut to break it." Simran giggled, and I glared at the staff. Shayla shushed him, and he scurried into the corner, looking down.

"Break what? My head?"

I asked, and she chuckled.

"Oh, you are so funny..." She playfully hit my arm like I just cracked the joke of the millennium.

"Of course, the coconut. But if your head breaks, it's a bonus." She winked and, without warning me, threw the coconut at me. My reflexes were damn great because I dodged it like I dodge bullets every time dealing with a mafia gang.

"Oh, I missed it." 

"What now, Ma'am? Should I get another one?" Shayla asked. My one glare and she shut her mouth.

"No, it's one coconut a day. I will try again tomorrow." My wife replied, having me roll my eyes at her.

All of a sudden, she bent down, and I stepped back. Who knew she might leave a scorpion on my leg or maybe a snake? But she touched my foot.

"What are you doing?" 

She looked up at me, eyes filled with mischievous innocence as she replied, "Taking my husband's blessings. For every devoted wife...this is an unsaid, unchanged ritual."

"I have Prasad for you..." 

Instead of a sweet on her plate as a prasad, there were dog biscuits in the shape of bones.

What the fucking hell!

"It's a dog biscuit." She knew I hated dogs. Heck, I used to have a phobia of them once.

"It's Prasad, Pati Devta. Don't insult it." She put them in my pants pockets as I refused to take them and went ahead yelling on top of her lungs, "Jai ho Kiaan Devta ki...."

[Hail Lord Kiaan]

"Zor se bolo...Jai Kiaan ki..."

[Say it loud... Hail Kiaan!]

"Guys...." She called the staff, and they followed her like she was some kind of political leader, and they were her fans.

"Hail Lord Kiaan!..." They all yelled in unison.

I married a lunatic, and she created an army. Now she was coming at me with full force.

I did not think seeing Dr. Phil was a good idea anymore.  I needed time to process the helion I married before I go and see him.

My wife was right about one thing: that I might end up killing myself if she continued with all of that for a month. I wondered what more was there, if any of it was.

******

Kiaan

******

The entire day, I had been yelling, glaring, shouting, and losing my temper like a madman. My mood was sour, and I knew the bitterness was apparent from my face, but if someone compelled me to speak because of their sheer stupidity, I was not holding back from spewing venom either. One hour in the office and the whole building froze in fear and started walking on edge because of my uncontrollable temper. I was known to be a cold bastard, but not a hotheaded one. But hey, then I was not married, so a cold temper came easily to me. Now that I was married and had a crazy wife, I had become someone very different than my usual self.

To be honest, I deserved that shit from her. I had hurt her, and she was avenging herself, but it bothered me that she would not give this marriage a chance and would rather plan on killing me. I was being a hypocrite here. After everything I put her up to, what she was doing to me was nothing compared to that. Still, I wanted her to give me one chance. The worst part was that I was not even articulating honestly to her what I wanted. I had thought I would give her some time to adjust before starting to be honest, but she did not need time to adjust. She had adjusted herself comfortably, making me uncomfortable in the process. I was debating whether I should be proud of her or hit my head on a wall because of her craziness.

I was going through some documents that needed my approval when my cabin's door was knocked on. I had ordered my assistant not to disturb me or let anyone disrupt me, even for a second, but it seemed everyone had a death wish. My bullet-filled pistol in my desk's drawer sat with bated breath to taste blood.

"What?" I shouted from inside when the door was knocked again. I had never used a rifle in a space like that. I mean, I was a beast, but not an idiot one, so I knew I could not use it there. But for once, I craved to embrace that idiotic idea.

"It's lunch time. Do you want me to get you something?" I heard my assistant. Mention of lunch reminded me of chocolate biryani and dog biscuits and whatever shit I was served recently. My rage increased tenfold, and I shouted, "Get the fuck out of here."

He was gone, vanished, holding his fear. I would not be surprised if some of my employees resigned the very next day or even the same day. My mood spoiled my work, which was not what I liked. I was an ethical man when it came to work, but there I was effortlessly mixing both my personal and professional life. I might have managed everything, but my being hungry was the cherry on top that had me acting so uncontrollably. But I had so much work that stepping out for anything was a luxury, even getting anything to eat in my cabin was a luxury.

There were no working hours for those who run successful businesses, and it was true. My office building had been emptied, but I was still engrossed in a virtual meeting with an overseas client. It's not like I could not have it postponed, but I preferred staying there late instead of going back home. I left my office premises around ten and I reached home in half an hour. I was certain Simran would have slept by then. But when I rang the bell, expecting Ethan, I was presented with a surprise. When the door opened, I saw my wife. The sight of her filled the space like beautiful golden light. Though I did not want her awake but her opening the door for me felt special to me; even for her, it was just a chore. Her radiating presence was not the only surprise factor for me. But there was something else, too. She was not in her pajamas but wearing a lehenga. It was not just any lehenga but the one she wore on our Mehndi. She was properly dressed, looking gorgeous than ever, and I almost stopped breathing. For a moment, it felt like my mind tricked me into dreaming it, but then I heard her say, "Pati Devta...you are here..."

It was not a dream because she had started with her Pati Devta shit, while in dreams, I always envision her hugging me.

She bent down and touched my feet again. She had an aarti thali in her hand, and the moment she got up, she started doing my aarti. I pressed my temples as it started aching again, and then she showered flower petals on me. I was too exhausted to respond, question, get angry, or even argue. So, I calmly asked, "What's this now?"

"A devoted wife should always take the blessings of her husband...." I sighed in frustration and exhaustion as I eyed her up and down and clarified, "Not that...but your attire..."

"Oh, this..." She grinned before she stepped closer.

"Well, ever since I married you, it feels like every day is a wedding day. So how could I not dress like a bride, huh?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but decided otherwise. There was no point because it was Simran, my wife, who was hell bent on making me lose my sanity.

Fine, whatever she said, whatever she wanted to do, okay. I just wanted to lie down for a bit and rest. So I simply said, "Move..."

"Okay, Pati Devta...." She said and stepped aside. I headed back to the room, and thankfully, the stupid skeleton was not there. I took a breath of relief and planned to take a relaxing shower. Once I was done and changed into casual clothes, instead of resting, I headed to the dining hall in search of anything edible. Even a fruit would have satiated me at that moment.

"Ethan, is there something to eat?" I called. Instead of Ethan, my wife appeared, replying, "There are a lot of things to eat."

She, along with Shayla and Ethan, brought delectable dishes from the kitchen and placed them all on the table. The aroma of the deciduous food items filled the air, and my mouth watered. I was about to sit and finally have something to eat when she said, "But you can't have anything." 

Shayla and Ethan were gone from sight, and I stared at my wife in irritation.

"Now don't tell me, you forgot about your own fast."

"My fast?" I asked, incredulously.

"Didn't you tell me when we were just about to sleep last night that you would keep a fast for my long life today and won't have dinner?"

"I said that, huh?"

"Yeah, but it's fine. I know you were tired after last night's makeout session...so I guess you forgot after that..."

She had to lose her mind to speak so brazenly in front of me. 

Make out session? Really? 

Earlier, I used to think it was because of the staff's presence that she had gotten so much confidence in herself but it was not like that. If that had been true, she would not have been that bold when no one was there but only us.

"It's fine...it's fine, sweetheart. No need to disclose our bedroom life like that." I said, with a sneer, and she smirked back.

"I know you are on a fast, but you also promised you will feed me."

"Of course. I am sure I did." I sat, defeated, because it was the second night when I was not going to eat anything.

"It's fun, isn't it? Having me wrapped around your finger." I asked as I plated food for her on a plate. She stared at the food excitedly, like a baby. And I would give up anything just for that one look.

"It feels great!!" She replied with enthusiasm about my earlier comment. I put one morsel in her mouth as I said, "Easy, there, sweetheart. You can only think that way because I am letting you. If not for my will, you could hardly breathe. Taming me will always be your dream."

I loved ruffling her feathers, getting under her skin. I always thrived on that. My words instantly changed her mood, and a triumphant smile appeared on my face.

When I put another morsel in her mouth, she bit my finger and it stung.

"Shit!" I jerked my hand back and forth to ease the pain.

"Keep uttering shit I don't like and I will chop off your tongue...." She snapped.

She had too much fire within her, and I had ignited her now.

"I like that you are as monstrous as I am...." I commented before putting another morsel in her mouth. She did not reply but kept glaring at me the entire dinner. There was no staff around, and I could have easily eaten anything, but I did not want to. I respected her words, and she had already mentioned I promised her I would be on fast for her. Even if it was not true, I did not let her words go to waste and did not eat or drink anything.

After the dinner, I did not have to contemplate what car I should take to the race. Because I knew I was not going anywhere. My storm, carrying another storm, was about to step into the room, so I waited with calm and peace, which was soon to be snatched.

I counted on my fingertips.

Five

Four

Three

Two

One

And there she was, storming inside, my beautiful wife and a dead skeleton ready to haunt me.

All The Best, Kiaan!

******

DAY 2, DAY 3

******

The same thing continued for like three days. Now, it was the fourth day I was on a fast. Because I was getting offered dog biscuits in the morning, nothing during lunch, or even dinner. Yet, like a crazy man, I waited to go back home to my wife. I was going to wait till DAY 7, but that was it. My reign was going to start soon.

******

Simran

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DAY 4

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My shot at the coconut thing missed, for the third time. Every time he would dodge it as if he used to practice how to dodge a coconut. I planned on watching a YouTube tutorial to trick him so that I could hit his head with the coconut. Something would definitely break with that one move. Whether it would be a coconut or his head, I would have to wait and see. But I had to try and win this time. I was obsessed with that for two reasons, first, I hated his efficient skills on dodging it, second, that morning he mocked me, in front of the staff. I mean, not in a disrespectful way, but in a way a husband teases his wife, but he hardly did any husband's duties, so he did not have the right to act like one.

His words from the morning still resonated in my ears.

"Someone will have to try again to fail miserably, again...."

I remembered his smirk, and my hands itched to punch that smirk off him. I wish I could just make a doll of him and put pins into its body to torture him. Because of that one thought, an idea popped into my head. I remembered I had a black magic handbook, which I had bought from the same store I had got Tharki from. Hurriedly, I got off the bed and barefoot feet I sprinted to get to the room where my stuff was when I met Shayla on the way.

"Ma'am...I was about to come to you."

"What is it?" I was hoping it was not something that took enough time, for I had become impatient to check that black magic handbook to find out anything which would help me control my husband.

"Your room is ready." She informed me, confusing me completely.

"What room?" I only knew two rooms, one where my stuff was in which I slept in the first night in that mansion, and the second where I slept with Tharki and my husband.

"Your ballet room?" Her response came out in the form of a question. Surely, she wondered if I knew about that or not. But I had no idea what she was talking about.

"My ballet room? I have a ballet room here?"

"Yes, it's right beside the gym. Here are the keys." She handed me the keys to the said room and added, "Please come and have a look and tell me if there are any other refinements to be done. I have tried to keep it as per your taste."

My taste? How would she know my taste? It's not like I told her what I liked or what I didn't.

Yet, without asking those questions, I followed her to the ground floor in the opposite hallway of the temple. The door was already open, and I stepped inside only for my steps to halt. Not because of fear or shock rather amazement. It seemed like someone breathed life into my dream room.

How could that be possible?

I walked ahead, took small steps, in awe of everything around me. I looked around and noticed the same combination of white and golden walls. I was not a fan of plain mirrors, but preferred those in the shape of a hexagon and they were just like that. Yellow, off-white, and golden curtains separated the dance area from another section, which had a hanger full of ballet outfits, yellow, lemon yellow, golden yellow in color. There was a small seating area too, and a comfy bed. The chandeliers ignited the room majestically. But what had me speechless was the sliding glass door. I could see the setting Sun hiding behind the hills. I never knew I lived closer to those beautiful hills.

"This is pretty..." I whispered as my deliberate, slow steps took me to each and every corner of that room. My heart felt heavy with joy. Suddenly, my eyes fell on a small wooden trunk in one corner. The lid of the trunk was open, and from where I stood, I could make out some old stuff, like albums, showpieces, inside it.

"What's that?" I pointed at the trunk, walking towards it.

"Oh, Alan must have forgotten to remove this one. I will have it removed right away...." Shayla said. I squatted and pulled out a unique pink box. When I opened the box, there were different crystals. It seemed like someone's old stuff; perhaps it belonged to my husband or someone else from the family.

"No, leave it here only." It was a way to his past, and I did not want to miss peeking into it. Besides, old stuff that had stories hidden always intrigued me. I was anyway bored at that place, mostly so that I thought it would keep me in good company for a while.

"It won't take much time to have this removed..." Shayla added to which I replied, "This trunk seems to have important, sentimental value products. I will keep them back to their proper place myself." She nodded. Putting the crystal box inside and closing the lid of the trunk, I got up.

"I did not know any such room even existed."

"Sir had given clear instructions to have your ballet room decorated. It was completed before your wedding only but some finishing was still left. After I was appointed here, my first and important task was to decorate this room as soon as possible. Did you like it?"

I had lost her at 'Sir had given clear instructions.'

Though I nodded in response to her question, the truth was I could not even articulate how much I loved it, to have a space solely for me, where I could feel like myself, where there were no inhibitions to be somebody's wife, daughter, but only me.

"I hope Sir likes it too. He was quite strict with the instructions."

"Was he?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes...A year ago, when he instructed me to decorate the ballet room, which was yet to be finished, he was very stringent with each and every word of his."

Wait...did she just say a year ago?

"A year ago? I thought this was here from the very beginning."

"Yes, it was ... but he had it reconstructed and redecorated multiple times. I only started decorating it after he was pleased with this reconstruction..."

How could he hate me and have a beautiful ballet room made just for me at the same time?

How could he have ordered it to be constructed a year ago when we married recently?

He hated me, made me lose my spot as a soloist, hurt me, fought with me...then why trouble himself for me?

Those questions did not let me at peace for a moment. At night, when he came back from the office, I welcomed him like any other day, dressed in another lehenga, showered flowers on him, and called him Pati Devta as usua,l but I was distracted. So, instead of touching his feet, I touched his head to take blessings; instead of showering flowers on his head, I showered flowers on his shoes. As a result, he stared at me with worry and placed the back of his palm on my forehead.

"Are you sick? Let me call a doctor." He stepped in and fished out his phone from his pocket, dialling someone's number when I held his wrist, calling his name, "Kiaan...."

I eventually asked a question I knew the answer to, yet I was not sure anymore.

"Do you hate me?"

He was taken aback by my question. I wanted him to say yes. That would have been simple. I knew he hated me; I just needed to confirm that's it.

But something strange happened.

He looked me in the eye and gulped as if it was difficult to answer. His jaw clenched, but not with anger; rather, it seemed like pain. I saw his one hand going into a fist, and the other clutching his phone tightly, not in rage, but like he was controlling himself.

How tough was it to just say yes? Why was he silent?

"Say something......" The aarti plate I held maintained a gap between us, needed for my sanity.

"Simmi...not now...." He said eventually and freed his wrist from my hold. He turned to leave, but I followed him.

For some reason, I felt my plea would be his undoing, and so I did that.

"Please...." 

I pleaded, not only because I wanted him to answer me but also because I was desperate. He had stopped after hearing me plead.

"Do you hate me?" I whispered. My heart ached for him to answer. He just needed to say yes, and every bubble of hope I had built in my head would burst. That's all I wanted. I wanted him to hurt me. It was not so difficult for him because he had done that before, countless times, without even putting much effort. But he did not reply, which I needed to hear to be sane.

Instead, with his back still turned to me, he said, "I could hate the world, firefly...but never the reason I exist." 

He left me stranded there while a volcano of emotions erupted inside me, emotions I never even knew existed within me. For him, it might have been just words, but for me, he had spiraled me into a world I never imagined I would be wandering into.

What did you do, Kiaan? Why did you do it?

******

Hi Lovelies,

I hope you all are doing great!! 🤗

What do you all think would happen on DAY 7? 🤔

Do you all want Simran to find something about Kiaan's past? 🤔

The chaos does not end here, guys. There is more on the way. 😛

Do share your views about the chapter. It would mean a lot to me. ❤️

Thanks,

Shrishtee

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Shrishtee Suman

A seasoned author whose passion lies in transforming fiction into reality through her words.