She wasn't allowed to go out and it had been a while that she visited her parent's house. Her movement was restricted in the palace. She felt confined. The world was spread far and wide, so beautiful and bright in front of her as she viewed it from the window of her bedroom. The wind blew gently and it carried the fragrance of flowers from the nicely laid garden. Nawab Siddiqi, the head of the small princely state in the northern part of India proposed love to Nagma, the daughter of a small peasant. Nawab's had fetish for perfect breast, white skin, and white women. Nagma had free, bouncy and round breast; which exposed in front of Nawab, as she lifted herself up to guide Nawab, who had lost the way to his palace. Nawab smiled at her as the pair flashed before him. They were soft and white. But he did not notice her glossy grey eyes which were round and irresistibly charming. Her parents made a little fortune and this proposal of marriage was the grace of almighty for them. They believed so. After Nikaah, Nagma became Begum Nagma. The palace spread across ten acres of lush green surroundings on the border of Wildlife sanctuary. The palace boasted of a colonial bungalow, billiards room, a large hall, a polo ground and a private garden. She had a dream of the life of a royalty.
After few years, she still believed in her dream with a swollen eye and a little bruise on her face.
‘I told you to remain behind the veiled window,' Nawab struck on her face with his princely hand. The hand gave her the diamond-studded ring on their wedding.
‘I don't like sitting here alone,' she said with tears rolling down her soft cheeks.
‘Didn't you notice the British officers in the hall? It was a royal event. I wanted them to see the dancers and not my Begum. It should not happen again.' Nawab left the bedroom warning her.
‘You need not worry now. He is not here. He was always aggressive. Please have some Sharbat,' Salma, the Aaya said as she pushed the tray to her.
‘Give me the towel. I need to clean my face first or he will be furious at night.'
‘You will get over this. Of course, you will but it will take time,' Aaya said as she cleaned the bruise of hers. Begum shrugged her shoulders. ‘The girl like you can have many admirers. This makes him very possessive of you. You are at a wrong place at a wrong time.' She said as she applied medicine to her swollen eyebrow.
On few occasions during night, Nawab turned into a passionate lover. It made no difference to her because when he turned into an aggressive lover, the bruises were of a different kind. He kicked her and yanked her up by long hair.
‘Oh! Please leave me alone. Take whatever you want. But please don't hurt me,' she begged to him. He always took what he wanted, forcefully.
The Nawab liked leisure and hunting. He loved shooting tigers. He had an uncanny fascination to put their skin on the palace's walls. He did not mind taking his Begum for these events. It was difficult for others to see his beautiful Begum in Machaan which was surrounded by heavy leaves. She remained hidden.
‘Can I come along for the hunting?'
‘You sound strange. The scar is still visible on your face. Oh no! What I have done?' Nawab said looking at her. She knew that his emotions were made up.
‘I'm fine. No one will see it,'
‘The weeds have grown and the roads are neglected. Would it be fine for you?'
‘I'll manage.'
Sitting high on the elephant, she enjoyed the green, dense diverse jungle. It was thick, wet due to last night's rain and the sight of the long bamboo stick made it humid. There was a hint of heavy stillness to it. Begum was not afraid of the tigers or the snakes; but was afraid of Nawab. However, the clean oxygen energized her.
Mahavat helped them to take the comfortable position on the Machaan and the big elephant looked in a hurry. Mahavat and the elephant went quickly to safety as Begum and Nawab were left alone in the wilderness. It was dark. Hunters and tigers love to hunt in the dark. No one was on the move. Nawab sat there with his .275 rifle as its butt rested on his knees.
‘Will you allow me to shoot the tiger?' Begum suggested.
‘Ah! Shhh…don't make a noise. You know it is not possible. I can feel he is around,' Nawab pleaded her.
‘No, I want to. It won't take long. If I miss, you have another chance,' she persisted.
Nawab gave her a sharp look. But he knew she won't back off on this.
‘Fine, take the gun. Point the nozzle on tiger's belly and shoot. The bullet does the rest and will end his misery,' Nawab explained to Begum as he covered her back with his frontal.
The tiger was big. She could have shot tiger's head or a leg or may be, Nawab's. But she chose shooting tiger's belly.
Bang. A loud noise cautioned tiger and he looked at Machaan. The shot missed the tiger. The .275 rifles are different. The force exerted in front cause equal force backward. The rifle butt hit the lean chest of Nawab. He lost the balance and fell down. Tiger did the rest and ended Nawab's misery, or perhaps Begum's.
After few years, she still believed in her dream with a swollen eye and a little bruise on her face.
‘I told you to remain behind the veiled window,' Nawab struck on her face with his princely hand. The hand gave her the diamond-studded ring on their wedding.
‘I don't like sitting here alone,' she said with tears rolling down her soft cheeks.
‘Didn't you notice the British officers in the hall? It was a royal event. I wanted them to see the dancers and not my Begum. It should not happen again.' Nawab left the bedroom warning her.
‘You need not worry now. He is not here. He was always aggressive. Please have some Sharbat,' Salma, the Aaya said as she pushed the tray to her.
‘Give me the towel. I need to clean my face first or he will be furious at night.'
‘You will get over this. Of course, you will but it will take time,' Aaya said as she cleaned the bruise of hers. Begum shrugged her shoulders. ‘The girl like you can have many admirers. This makes him very possessive of you. You are at a wrong place at a wrong time.' She said as she applied medicine to her swollen eyebrow.
On few occasions during night, Nawab turned into a passionate lover. It made no difference to her because when he turned into an aggressive lover, the bruises were of a different kind. He kicked her and yanked her up by long hair.
‘Oh! Please leave me alone. Take whatever you want. But please don't hurt me,' she begged to him. He always took what he wanted, forcefully.
The Nawab liked leisure and hunting. He loved shooting tigers. He had an uncanny fascination to put their skin on the palace's walls. He did not mind taking his Begum for these events. It was difficult for others to see his beautiful Begum in Machaan which was surrounded by heavy leaves. She remained hidden.
‘Can I come along for the hunting?'
‘You sound strange. The scar is still visible on your face. Oh no! What I have done?' Nawab said looking at her. She knew that his emotions were made up.
‘I'm fine. No one will see it,'
‘The weeds have grown and the roads are neglected. Would it be fine for you?'
‘I'll manage.'
Sitting high on the elephant, she enjoyed the green, dense diverse jungle. It was thick, wet due to last night's rain and the sight of the long bamboo stick made it humid. There was a hint of heavy stillness to it. Begum was not afraid of the tigers or the snakes; but was afraid of Nawab. However, the clean oxygen energized her.
Mahavat helped them to take the comfortable position on the Machaan and the big elephant looked in a hurry. Mahavat and the elephant went quickly to safety as Begum and Nawab were left alone in the wilderness. It was dark. Hunters and tigers love to hunt in the dark. No one was on the move. Nawab sat there with his .275 rifle as its butt rested on his knees.
‘Will you allow me to shoot the tiger?' Begum suggested.
‘Ah! Shhh…don't make a noise. You know it is not possible. I can feel he is around,' Nawab pleaded her.
‘No, I want to. It won't take long. If I miss, you have another chance,' she persisted.
Nawab gave her a sharp look. But he knew she won't back off on this.
‘Fine, take the gun. Point the nozzle on tiger's belly and shoot. The bullet does the rest and will end his misery,' Nawab explained to Begum as he covered her back with his frontal.
The tiger was big. She could have shot tiger's head or a leg or may be, Nawab's. But she chose shooting tiger's belly.
Bang. A loud noise cautioned tiger and he looked at Machaan. The shot missed the tiger. The .275 rifles are different. The force exerted in front cause equal force backward. The rifle butt hit the lean chest of Nawab. He lost the balance and fell down. Tiger did the rest and ended Nawab's misery, or perhaps Begum's.
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