Love Sentiments

Mumtaz slept on her bed with five ladies pinning her down, the doctor was staring at her a hopeless expression. She felt it coming out, it was actually coming out. The pain surged through her body. Every part of her body was hurting, it was like her lower half was being cut into two. She continuously coughed and spat and ejaculated blood. She saw the doctor kneeling and facing her middle, peering under the blanket. She felt his hands rubbing against the inside of her thighs and reaching towards her ‘uncomfortable part’. Then her eyes closed and she passed out.

When she woke up, she felt as light as a feather and comparatively weak. Her arms felt wobbly after the whole of pressure applied to them. The hands pinning her down left visible red prints on her pale arms. Her bottom burned like molten lead was poured on it. She tried to make an attempt to wake up when a maid came scurring and said, “My lady, the doctor has refrained you from moving and has advised you to sleep.” “But, But” she stammered then coming back to her senses, she assembled her jumbled thoughts and said, “I want you to request the doctor and his majesty to come here.”

After some time emperor, Shah Jahan entered the room. The room was called the Queen’s bedroom. Usually, the king did not enter the Queen’s quarters often but this time he entered without hesitation. He brought the doctor with him whose face was pale and he acted very fidgetily. Everyone in the kingdom knew the king’s rage and they knew better than to get on his formidable side. That day the king had a very anxious expression. Mumtaz knew how he felt like he was burnt, tortured and whipped from his insides when he saw his wife lamenting. They had been together for a long time and known each other to the core.

Shah Jahan was her friend, her love, her husband and also her master. Though he insisted on keeping a friend-friend relationship, she had always worshipped him as her master and was ever-ready to submit to his will. This was the connection that dwelled between this cute little couple. The king arched over her gently and placed his hands on Mumtaz’s previously inflated belly. His touch gave her goosebumps. Her heart started beating faster. “How’s it going in here,” he asked. Mumtaz wanted to reply but not a word came from her mouth. They locked eyes for a moment and the king let out a sigh and turned towards the door to dart out when Mumtaz called out for him. "My lord, I feel like I am going to take a leave from this world and be free from all humanly desires. I think this bed of mine would not have its occupant live more.”

The king approached her and said softly, “ M’dear don’t be pessimistic, everything will be sorted out.” ‘I hope so and not so’ she said. Shah Jahan gave an expression like- ‘aww come on’ and then with this, Shah Jahan bent towards Mumtaz and she with her hurting hands pulled his face towards her and whispered, “Even though his wife shall not live, the great king of Hindustan will live a long and glorious life.” She pressed her lips against his and felt the ocean of love swirling around her. She felt she could connect with his brain, assess the thoughts going on in a genius’ brain like his. Even though his lips were usually rough, they felt smooth, warm and comfortable.

His comforting hands were rubbing against her belly and she clung both of her hands around her husband’s neck-so tightly as if she was clinging to his neck for her dear life holding and resisting from into the heads of death. She could feel her paired one's heartbeat as if soothing waves of the shore aching for her to come along with them but Satan had built a wall between the waves and her. With the last feel of her husband’s body warmth, she left his hands and she realized that she was not able to control her own hands. They fell to the sides of her body like lifeless objects. She literally felt her body going into ‘switch off’ mode and her lower body burnt like it was touching a flame, she felt the coppery taste of blood and saw blood the blood oozing out of her mouth dropping onto the bedsheet.

She saw a glint in that drop of blood, the devil in the glint said, “I’m sorry but your time has come to leave, I had to do this quickly because I had many more appointments on my list today.” The small flicker of light disappeared and the drop of blood appeared what it should normally. Her vision suddenly turned foggy and somewhere a voice that belonged to her husband said, “Rest in peace, my love.” After that after that her vision was blank for what felt like days, then she gradually gained it, first a very hazy image which turned clearer gradually. When she had gained her full vision, she realized that she was sleeping in a Kayak floating ina sea full of colorful water and the sea seemed endless. A vast expanse of colorful water bubbling and boiling like lava. “What is this?” She asked in no one particular, but herself. A voice boomed out of nowhere, “I am fed up with this statement! Why does every mortal has the same question as soon as they find themselves here?”

“Anyway, I have an answer to that which, I know better than my name.” “This is the ocean of memories of your time alive and you have been kept here because there is a lot of mortal traffic in my chambers. “Am I dead?” Mumtaz felt stupid while asking this question yet she blurted it out. ‘That I think you can figure out for yourself’ with that the voice ceased to entertain the ‘punny mortal’. Mumtaz got up and noted the contents of the scene before her. As she keenly observed, could see tiny human pictures in the water of what seemed like a distant memory swirling and swishing and then fading away like a butterfly from a flycatchers hand. She imagined her other sons and her husband weeping over her lifeless body.

She turned away from the sea and glanced at the contents in the kayak. There was a pair of oars in it. She started rowing towards nothing in particular. She aimlessly rowed hoping to find something other than the tragic ocean. As she rowed, she committed a mistake of glancing back into the waters, but this time it wasn't a mistake. She saw herself being married to her husband, then the memory of her as a child playing innocently in front of a mirror and indignantly accusing her reflection of copying her every action. This brought a smile to her face. She kept rowing and looking down when at a distance she saw a small white structure protruding out of the surface of the ocean. This white thing I looked like the top of a dome. Now she had started rowing faster towards the eerie structure. She was rowing with all of her might. She had the childish curiosity burning inside her which completely made her overlook the cons. She was determined to reach it before it disappeared or anything happened to it.

When she was just about a dozen meters from the dome, the white structure suddenly erupted from the ocean with colorful water dripping down from all sides. The white structure was an octagonal building with a gigantic dome everything of implicit symmetry and natural beauty. The dome was accompanied by four minarets; two on each side of the dome. The most astonishing element was that the whole structure was perfectly designed and symmetrical. Anyone witnessing the sight would just have blurted out, “Wow that’s perfect!” and Mumtaz’s reaction was not different. The whole monument was supported by a marble base that miraculously floated on the water. This was the center of attraction in the vast expansion of monotonous colorful waters.

Mumtaz saw a tall sleek and muscular figure with a broad chest and biceps bulging out leaning against the entrance of the dome. At the distance, she recognized that the figure belonged to her husband the Shah of the Jahan( ruler of the world) and also her tiny little heart, it would be completely incorrect to say that goosebumps broke out on her skin as each bump contained far more emotion than the mere word. Mumtaz felt as if her heart would break out of her chest. She wanted to jump out int the water and ‘RUN’ on it. In her frenzy, her leg touched the water and got scorched, she immediately withdrew it. Then a voice said in her mind, “Don’t panic my dear, I ill bring you here to me.” She heard her husband's voice and now she wished if have had wings to fly out to him. She somehow managed to calm herself down and then the kayak gently floated towards the monument on its own.

Now the kayak was only five meters away and the face of the man became more visible. Shah Jahan wore a gentle smile on his face he was looking as young as if in his mid-20s. As soon as the kayak was within jumping radius, she jumped over the cold marble floor and ran like she was the master of the winds. She slipped and fell a couple of time but the pain did not seem to be intense enough for mind blindly in love could notice. Finally, after having a tough time reuniting with friction, she managed to get her fragile body into her husband's warm comforting arms. They hugged for what felt like decades and when they finally broke apart, she found her tiny mouth whispering to her husband, “Are you also dead?” how can she be so stupid, he was here with her and she considered herself as dead, at least if not dead that not in real life.

He said, “How can I ever be dead when I am holding you in my hands.” He exhaled and then again spoke in a sweet voice “How did you like my new sweetheart?” He said rubbing the white marble behind him. “Ghosh, I just love it.” She said cuddling in his arms. Shah Jahan smiled and then, husband-wife came closer to bask in the warmth of incomprehensible feelings of the heart of one another. They found their lips having a reunion. This time the feeling was different, she could feel the happy memories in the ocean getting attracted to the monument and the tragic memories getting pushed away. She could feel the intense passions of her husband and the desire to do whatever was needed to remain locked at the moment.

She clung her hands around his neck, this time it was clinging on to prevent the god from taking her away from him. They broke apart and stared at each other blankly and then Shah Jahan found his wit and spoke, “This monument which I present before you is named the ‘The Taj Mahal’ after the great queen of Hindustan - Mumtaz Mahal. Then, in the most ungraceful manner, a voice interrupted in between, “Sorry for the interruption, but I had to reluctantly do it.” It was the same voice that had spoken when Mumtaz had woken up on the kayak. It said again, “I usually don't like mortals kissing within my premises, but yours was a very cute scene so I allowed it, so anyway I am here to inform you that your process of rebirth has been resumed and now you will have to proceed to my court. The ‘mortal traffic’ has been cleared (thanks to my hard work) and now it is your turn to be reborn.