The Unventured Passions

The Clay of Strength

Batakrishna Roy Chowdhury was walking briskly with the wooden trunk in hand, stretching those long muscular legs, troding over wet muddy clay and splattering specks of grey mud all over. The bottom of his own white dhoti had turned completely grey, along with the socks, as his black Oxford boots successfully splattered ample of the same colour on the white saree that Mira wore. Mira was almost sprinting behind him, her eyes lowered cauciously on the clayey field, carefully not to trip. Her mouth was gaped, panting from all the exhaustion from running behind the zamindar aimlessly, in every direction, for the past five hours.

"Damn the river again!"
Batakrishna suddenly stopped, and Mira stumbled on his back, an abrupt head on collision with his sculpted back.

"Ouch!" She murmured, rubbing her forehead, and it made Batuk turn around with a frown.

"Now who's touching whom?"
He rolled his eyes, widened with a hint of tease, and Mira lowered her face instantly unable to draw it true meaning.

"S...Sorry", she fumbled, and Batuk let out a soft chuckle. He raised his hand and held the hem of her saree drawn over her head, and pulled it further down her face covering her eyes completely.

"Wha..."
Mira gasped, and in response Batuk almost snatched the small white potli from her arms, that she had held so closely to her bosom all these way.

"Wrap your entire face with that Ghumta Mira, you'll see the road better." He pursed his lips, "and, I'm keeping this potli of yours... First learn to manage yourself, then I'll give you this to manage."

He huffed the words, pressing his lips playfully and it made Mira pout at him.

"I... I can't see like this." She stammered, pulling the saree up her eyes to look at him, and Batuk held it once again to pull it down.

Mira didn't object, and Batuk broke into a fit of loud laughter.

"Why are you so... so... ", he looked around, as if to conjure a word, "so..."
and his fumbled expression made Mira murmured awkwardly.

"Stupid?"

"No cute." Batakrishna remarked, and winking his eyes playfully at her, he turned forward once again, preparing to walk aimlessly as before.

"Umm....wait."
Mira called out, his words had made a faint crack of blush visible on her lips, as gathering her courage she quickly grabbed the hem of Batuk's shirt and pulled him.

Batuk turned and frowned in amusement.
"You're touching me again!" He pressed his lips, keeping the trunk on the ground. Mira had promptly let go off his shirt, making Batuk fold his arms to his chest, looking at her with a glint of naughtiness in his eyes.

"Now, my brother always talks of equality, men and women are meant to be equal he says," He raised an eyebrow at Mira, making her steal a glance, "and... going by that logic, I should be touching you now too, shouldn't I?" He winked at her, raising his hand in pretence of grabbing her neck, as Mira jumped up and gasped aloud.

Batuk laughed out loud.
"Such a mouse you are!"

He rolled his eyes and it made Mira bit her lips in embarrassment.
"We... We have reached the same place." She murmured, and it made the broad grin on Batuk's face disappear into a irritated flinch.

"How so?"
He asked, looking around, and Mira pointed towards a particular tree trunk where she had engraved a 'Ba' in bangla a few hours ago.

Batuk narrowed his eyes at it.
"Oh... So... Should have taken the left then..." He scratched his head thoughtfully, a clear crease on his forehead, and Mira nodded her head sideways and walked infront of him.