Curse of The Loam

Curse of The Loam

A Story by Red Raven

 

 

As evening came, it’s the moment for the night to cast its spell. But between them there is a moment called ‘Dusk’; an alarm for the moon and the stars. And for Usharani it is a moment of ecstasy. At such moment you will find him behind the Champaka tree by the Padma Lake. He waits anxiously till he hears the blissful sound of splashing water and of ladies giggles fondling each other. He then peeps. He will always be there behind ‘the tree of love’ to steal the glance of those lovely curves which were bathed with uncanny shiver, the smooth swollen breasts that tease the beholder eyes.

As night falls, he will walk away silently as he came, cursing his fate.

At Gol Gumbaz also known as the city of wealth everyone knows Usharani of Begum Saiba. Twenty four years back when the Nawab gave his father land to build a house and to cultivate, he was given to the Nawab as a ‘bakshi’, a sign of contentment by his poor Brahmin father who had nothing to offer but his own son. When he was hardly a year old he was castrated and appointed as a ‘gup’ holder for begum. And his journey to a new world as a devotee of Goddess Hudigamma, the Goddess of all eunuchs begun.

Usharani was also a firm devotee of goddess Lakshmi, the Goddess of fortune, wealth and abundance. He always portrayed her as a golden skinned woman sitting on a lotus. And as her devotee he never wore gold, since the Goddess doesn’t approve it. The silvers jingles with him, his appearance looms like that of a baby elephant. A huge waist, bulgy hands, thick silver rings, large silver bangles, fat silver anklets. But no matter how heavily he adorns himself and inspite of his size, he walks gracefully like a swan. There was something mythical about the way he walks. The jingling of the silver over his body is like music played by courtesan. Even though his skin cries out to be dipped in the bosom of fairness, no ‘Zenana’ can competes his grace.

He was the only one in the harem, who in his buffoonery could wag tongues and get rewarded richly. He lavishly won the trust of Begum Saiba, the most powerful among Zenana to be respected as pure loyal. But no matter how many times he attempted to look ravishing, deep inside him there always lies a Man with the saddest sigh. A man with deep desire, hunger for lust, passion to cup that ripened breasts. A yearn to thrust his manhood to feel the forbidden fruit, the pleasure to please those lips.

Whenever he helps the Begum dress after a bath with scented oils and fresh rose petals, there always is a deep regret; an unfathomable feelings of anger and unhappiness. When the Begum stared at him with knowing malice and laugh throwing her head back, in him was a nightmarish wish to taste the nectar of his Begum.

The same feeling always enveloped him whenever he steals a glance at the river where the ladies come to take bath at the dusk.

 

 

One evening, there was a hush at Gol Gumbaz. 'Begum is getting ready for her journey!' The gold smith shouted. Somewhere from the palace a trumpet blasted as a sign of mourning.

Silently walk the henna girl, who uses to apply the bright maroon colour henna to her Begum. Mourning and weeping, she approaches the dying Begum after she applied the best henna collected from nearby village. Begum looked at her calmly with her perfect penciled eyebrow. "Have this my child" Begum offered her pearl necklace as a gift of being faithful. The Henna girl without raising her eyes crawls towards Begum and receive the gift. Her heart jump with a whoop to see the pure black pearls, half forgetting that she might never see her Begum again, that this is the last call for her service.

"Where is Usharani?" Begum demanded. Cosset in silk sheets that was embroidered with pure gold thread Begum's wish was to have Usharani by her side, her favorite 'Gup' holder, the one who guard her furtive, her most faithful servant.

The 'Punkha', ancient ceiling fan, was rocking to and fro violently, hysterical maids scurrying in silence, guards with darting eyes seeking every Zenana's chamber for Usharani. The palace was in chaos! Usharani was nowhere to be seen. And the dying Begum called for Usharani's immediate presence at her chamber.

Meanwhile Usharani was behind the Champaka tree by the Padma Lake. He was waiting anxiously for the blissful sound of splashing water and of ladies giggle while they fondle each other. He peeps as always from behind ‘the tree of love’ to steal the glance of those lovely curves ,the smooth swollen breasts that tease the beholder eyes but, dusk fade away and there were no ladies that evening. Instead of being disappointed it puzzled him. Not even a single Zenana was there that evening. With a sighing heart he turns towards the palace.

"The moon is high up now" he said to himself" another yard of tortoise walk and I can go to Begum's chamber for her evening bath" He was strolling lazily swaying the hem of his bright pink veil in Begums beautiful garden when a maid came running. The jingling sounds starlet him." Begum!" the maid gasps. Before another word can escape from the maid lips, Usharani was running towards the Begum's chamber like a tycoon elephant.

His long braided hair that was nicely oiled with freshly grinded mustard oil loose holds and locks of hair runs down his face. He cares not for the sleeping swans in begum's pond as he thumps away the marble tiles with his jingling silver anklets. The force of his speed swayed the heavy curtains of the chamber main entrance. He pushed the guard away with his flaring eyes till he knelt down besides his Begum divan.

There she lies. The most beautiful woman Allah could mould. Though arrogant she may be, Usharani can never cease to love her, gaze at her perfectly perched nose where her turquoises nose ring dances. The slender velvety body which he knows so well now lies with sweat and pain. Her breast swells up and down as she tries to absorb life on her body. He looked at begum's breast and even though it is covered well, he can see the exact spot where the black mole lies.

"Send away everyone..." she commanded in a stilled whisper "everyone out!' Usharani roar "Even you!  Shadow maid". The room was silent, except for the breeze that dance among the silk curtains from nine windows of Begum's chamber.

Swans cackle down the garden, greatly confused by the disturbing thuds a moment ago.

"I don’t want to DIE!" she screams in a voiceless effort. Usharani has no word to give her solace, except mob her beautiful smooth forehead perspiration. "Usharani, my trusted and most faithful one, promise me that you will avenge my death" There was horror in Begums eyes. She has to show calm as her last dignity before others but, with Usharani, she knows she can be herself. A sudden calmness flowed inside both of them and for the first time he dare to defy.

"Begum, I can do no such thing" he said "I am faithful to you as much as I am to other Zenana's". "I hope you will forgive me. I am Nawab's bakshi before I became your gup holder and I cannot bring more sorrow to Nawab" he gaze down at the shocked stricken beautiful face. "So you knew it way before" she hissed" It is one of the Zenana who fed me poison". It was neither a question nor a statement. He reaches out to stroke her quivering lips but the Begum spat at his face with all her strength.

The spat reminds Usharani of begum's malice laugh, throwing her head back whenever he helps her dress after a bath with scented oils and fresh rose petals. That deep regret; the unfathomable feelings of anger and unhappiness rush back to his blood. The nightmarish wish to taste the nectar of his Begum overpowered his duty as an eunuch.

Usharani eye's pupil got dilated; his eyebrow squeezed together as if they are two rams ready to knock the bridge of his nose. The throbbing of his groin lost in halfway yet his matted soul got aroused. His hand fighting with anxiety, he reaches out for the begum's ripened bosom.

He flung the silken sheets from her and drink the pure curves that her body posses. Clutching the gold necklace studded with stones from her neck, he lifted her up and satisfy his hunger through her mouth. She gasps for air which stirred his beastly soul more. With half closed eyes, as if drunk by sucking her swollen breasts, he tears the thin delicate muslin blouse to expose her vulnerable ribs. For once he wishes to crush her with his body, grind her with his manhood. But alas! He cannot fulfill the only yearn he has. That makes him more frustrated. Crouching down, he got hold of the hem of the begum's robe and ripped it up till he can see her fully bloomed forbidden fruit, the fruit that only Nawab has a right to taste and enjoy.

Apart from the horror of death, Usharani saw in his begum's eyes fear. Fear for this good for nothing Eunuch. Fear of her 'Gup' holder. Dancing fingers plays a shadow on the wall while, for the first time he took a close look at women's fertility. He stretches it; open it wide with one of his hand to see the bud while the other hand muffled her scream. Out of curiosity he pokes his fingers to explore what lies beneath the hole.

It was way too deep.

His frustration turns into anger. He has to know how deep the way to pleasure is, but his fingers were too short for it. He yanked the hookah that was placed near the begum's divan and a glimpse of satisfaction appears on his face. Stuffing Begum's mouth with his pink muslin viel, he knelt down poking harder and driving deeper. There were tears and plea in Begum's eyes yet the tears were soon mixed with sweats from her face. Suddenly the Hookah was not obeying to go further, he thrust harder, the hookah remains adamant, not wanting to go further.

Like the gentle ice that melts suddenly, red striking blood stream out from the hole. The beautiful body lies unmoved. Gently Usharani remove it and lift his Begum's body. "Forgive me Goddess Hudigamma" he prayed and carried her to the bathing chamber where scented oil and rose petals awaited his Begum.

There was a hush at Gol Gumbaz. 'Begum is getting ready for her journey!' The gold smith shouted. Somewhere from the palace a trumpet blasted as a sign of mourning.

Silently walk the henna girl, who uses to apply the bright maroon colour henna to her Begum. Mourning and weeping, she approaches the dying Begum after she applied the best henna collected from nearby village. Begum looked at her calmly with her perfect penciled eyebrow. "Have this my child" Begum offered her pearl necklace as a gift of being faithful. The Henna girl without raising her eyes crawls towards Begum and receive the gift. Her heart jump with a whoop to see the pure black pearls, half forgetting that she might never see her Begum again, that this is the last call for her service.

"Where is Usharani?" Begum demanded. Cosset in silk sheets that was embroidered with pure gold thread Begum's wish was to have Usharani by her side, her favorite 'Gup' holder, the one who guard her furtive, her most faithful servant.

The 'Punkha', ancient ceiling fan, was rocking to and fro violently, hysterical maids scurrying in silence, guards with darting eyes seeking every Zenana's chamber for Usharani. The palace was in chaos! Usharani was nowhere to be seen. And the dying Begum called for Usharani's immediate presence at her chamber.

Meanwhile Usharani was behind the Champaka tree by the Padma Lake. He was waiting anxiously for the blissful sound of splashing water and of ladies giggle while they fondle each other. He peeps as always from behind ‘the tree of love’ to steal the glance of those lovely curves ,the smooth swollen breasts that tease the beholder eyes but, dusk fade away and there were no ladies that evening. Instead of being disappointed it puzzled him. Not even a single Zenana was there that evening. With a sighing heart he turns towards the palace.

"The moon is high up now" he said to himself" another yard of tortoise walk and I can go to Begum's chamber for her evening bath" He was strolling lazily swaying the hem of his bright pink veil in Begums beautiful garden when a maid came running. The jingling sounds starlet him." Begum!" the maid gasps. Before another word can escape from the maid lips, Usharani was running towards the Begum's chamber like a tycoon elephant.

His long braided hair that was nicely oiled with freshly grinded mustard oil loose holds and locks of hair runs down his face. He cares not for the sleeping swans in begum's pond as he thumps away the marble tiles with his jingling silver anklets. The force of his speed swayed the heavy curtains of the chamber main entrance. He pushed the guard away with his flaring eyes till he knelt down besides his Begum divan.

There she lies. The most beautiful woman Allah could mould. Though arrogant she may be, Usharani can never cease to love her, gaze at her perfectly perched nose where her turquoises nose ring dances. The slender velvety body which he knows so well now lies with sweat and pain. Her breast swells up and down as she tries to absorb life on her body. He looked at begum's breast and even though it is covered well, he can see the exact spot where the black mole lies.

"Send away everyone..." she commanded in a stilled whisper "everyone out!' Usharani roar "Even you!  Shadow maid". The room was silent, except for the breeze that dance among the silk curtains from nine windows of Begum's chamber.

Swans cackle down the garden, greatly confused by the disturbing thuds a moment ago.

"I don’t want to DIE!" she screams in a voiceless effort. Usharani has no word to give her solace, except mob her beautiful smooth forehead perspiration. "Usharani, my trusted and most faithful one, promise me that you will avenge my death" There was horror in Begums eyes. She has to show calm as her last dignity before others but, with Usharani, she knows she can be herself. A sudden calmness flowed inside both of them and for the first time he dare to defy.

"Begum, I can do no such thing" he said "I am faithful to you as much as I am to other Zenana's". "I hope you will forgive me. I am Nawab's bakshi before I became your gup holder and I cannot bring more sorrow to Nawab" he gaze down at the shocked stricken beautiful face. "So you knew it way before" she hissed" It is one of the Zenana who fed me poison". It was neither a question nor a statement. He reaches out to stroke her quivering lips but the Begum spat at his face with all her strength.

The spat reminds Usharani of begum's malice laugh, throwing her head back whenever he helps her dress after a bath with scented oils and fresh rose petals. That deep regret; the unfathomable feelings of anger and unhappiness rush back to his blood. The nightmarish wish to taste the nectar of his Begum overpowered his duty as an eunuch.

Usharani eye's pupil got dilated; his eyebrow squeezed together as if they are two rams ready to knock the bridge of his nose. The throbbing of his groin lost in halfway yet his matted soul got aroused. His hand fighting with anxiety, he reaches out for the begum's ripened bosom.

He flung the silken sheets from her and drink the pure curves that her body posses. Clutching the gold necklace studded with stones from her neck, he lifted her up and satisfy his hunger through her mouth. She gasps for air which stirred his beastly soul more. With half closed eyes, as if drunk by sucking her swollen breasts, he tears the thin delicate muslin blouse to expose her vulnerable ribs. For once he wishes to crush her with his body, grind her with his manhood. But alas! He cannot fulfill the only yearn he has. That makes him more frustrated. Crouching down, he got hold of the hem of the begum's robe and ripped it up till he can see her fully bloomed forbidden fruit, the fruit that only Nawab has a right to taste and enjoy.

Apart from the horror of death, Usharani saw in his begum's eyes fear. Fear for this good for nothing Eunuch. Fear of her 'Gup' holder. Dancing fingers plays a shadow on the wall while, for the first time he took a close look at women's fertility. He stretches it; open it wide with one of his hand to see the bud while the other hand muffled her scream. Out of curiosity he pokes his fingers to explore what lies beneath the hole.

It was way too deep.

His frustration turns into anger. He has to know how deep the way to pleasure is, but his fingers were too short for it. He yanked the hookah that was placed near the begum's divan and a glimpse of satisfaction appears on his face. Stuffing Begum's mouth with his pink muslin viel, he knelt down poking harder and driving deeper. There were tears and plea in Begum's eyes yet the tears were soon mixed with sweats from her face. Suddenly the Hookah was not obeying to go further, he thrust harder, the hookah remains adamant, not wanting to go further.

Like the gentle ice that melts suddenly, red striking blood stream out from the hole. The beautiful body lies unmoved. Gently Usharani remove it and lift his Begum's body. "Forgive me Goddess Hudigamma" he prayed and carried her to the bathing chamber where scented oil and rose petals awaited his Begum.

 

 

.....to be continued


© 2008 Red Raven



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Very enjoyable. You could easily make this into a book. There is certainly enough scope to add description to this particular chapter to make it really happen (and increase the length). As a short WC chapter though, it is fine and keeps the story bubbling along nicely. Good to also see you have given consideration towards the next part as well. So many stories seem to be forced when the following chapter is not sorted out in the writers mind - hopefull it is already written?
Makes a good read.

Posted 10 Years Ago


I haven't read part one of this and going by what I've read here I would say that you have researched your story very well, I'm not familiar with the names you use, but I get the drift of your story, which opens up an entire new world for your reader...and that is always a good thing. You tell the tale very well. There are quite a few editing issues you must correct, on the whole a good read...please send me number three.

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

The story is open to debat for the levels of civilian life at a palace. Someone must pay for the crime. Usharani being what he is has fulfilled his role to the Queen and now that the end is near he wants to see why he had been castrated. So two wrongs are being exiamed in the palace tonight. The third wrong is the misunderstanding of a child not yet a child wanting to learn about the female mysteries. The story is going well and I can't wait for the next installment.

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This an interesting story. You recreate their world nicely. The passions and personalities play well. There are a few grammar and spelling issues, but those can be fixed by an editing review.

Harsh story at the end but overall a good bit of writing.

Thanks for sharing it.

Doc.

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on February 20, 2008
Last Updated on February 20, 2008

Author

Red Raven
Red Raven

Nagalim, Christian, India



About
I am here to learn, share, understand and give. RedRaven is a new style that echoes with the voices of our ancestor, and the sound of the today. It's a way in which we bridge the gap between cultu.. more..

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