<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss version="2.0"
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"
	xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/"
	xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/"
	>

<channel>
	<title>Random Expressions</title>
	<atom:link href="https://www.deepakjeswal.com/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com</link>
	<description>By Deepak Jeswal</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Mon, 07 Feb 2022 19:09:42 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<language>en-US</language>
	<sy:updatePeriod>
	hourly	</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>
	1	</sy:updateFrequency>
	<generator>https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4</generator>
	<item>
		<title>A Day Without Lataji</title>
		<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/a-day-without-lataji/</link>
					<comments>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/a-day-without-lataji/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Deepak Jeswal]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Feb 2022 19:09:42 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[General]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.deepakjeswal.com/?p=585</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
		
					<wfw:commentRss>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/a-day-without-lataji/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
			<slash:comments>47</slash:comments>
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Lata Mangeshkar : From My Old Blog</title>
		<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/lata-mangeshkar-from-my-old-blog/</link>
					<comments>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/lata-mangeshkar-from-my-old-blog/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Deepak Jeswal]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Feb 2022 19:07:44 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[General]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.deepakjeswal.com/?p=583</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
		
					<wfw:commentRss>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/lata-mangeshkar-from-my-old-blog/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
			<slash:comments>621</slash:comments>
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Corona</title>
		<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/corona/</link>
					<comments>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/corona/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Deepak Jeswal]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 15 Jul 2021 15:03:55 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[COVID-19]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[New Normal]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.deepakjeswal.com/?p=572</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Well, the new virus has taken over everyoneâ€™s lives. And like how?! Last year in March when my organisation announced we can work from home, we thought it will be for a few days. The first few days were exciting. No long drive to work. No fixed schedule. You could sit in your bed &#8211; and you could get some free time off, because no one frankly works constantly. But, the days turned into weeks. And weeks into months. The novelty wore off. And I settled into a neat routine &#8211; set up a â€˜officeâ€™ in the living room. Zoom and WebEx calls became the norm, and as days passed much easier to operate &#38; handle. Other than the drive, and wearing formals, I set my routine to include all that I would have done in office. That is, get ready before 9.00, log into my laptop &#38; clear off the pending mails, before slipping into the myriad calls and virtual meetings. We are in 2021. Another half of the year is over. But this madness refuses to go. Even the â€˜new normalâ€™ is getting old. Worse, this routine has become habit and another inertia has set in. So, once we are all normal it will be another chore to drive to office all over again, and sit tightly in the office chairs, in stiff formal dress! I had another scare &#8211; health wise, which was far removed from the virus, and scraped those gruelling days &#8211; from ICU to home care. Thankfully, things are looking up on that front now. I am vaccinated. So, am a little better off than many. Life goes on. Wonder if we will be looking back to these tough days with what sort of memories, say, five years down the line!]]></description>
		
					<wfw:commentRss>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/corona/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
			<slash:comments>65</slash:comments>
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>I Am Here</title>
		<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/i-am-here/</link>
					<comments>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/i-am-here/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Deepak Jeswal]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 24 Jan 2020 07:00:11 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[General]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.deepakjeswal.com/?p=565</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Whoosh! Surprised to see me here? Oh well, have been missing this place for a while. On a boring Saturday, while searching for some files, I chanced upon my old working file. Most posts written during my Nepal and Agra days were there. I loved browsing through them. I did a bit of formatting to that document and converted it into a readable PDF file. If any one is interested to read that bulky file ( a whopping 500 plus pages ), do let me know. So yes, hey, how have things been? Blogging is a lost art now? I guess Twitter is faster, quicker and precise. And Facebook for personal stuff? Let me see how this post is received.]]></description>
		
					<wfw:commentRss>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/i-am-here/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
			<slash:comments>58</slash:comments>
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Dil Ki Chitthiyan</title>
		<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/dil-ki-chitthiyan/</link>
					<comments>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/dil-ki-chitthiyan/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Deepak Jeswal]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 25 Jan 2019 10:25:47 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[General]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.deepakjeswal.com/?p=563</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My new song out now! Dil Ki Chitthiyan Composer and Singer : Archita Bhattacharya Lyric : Deepak Jeswal Arranger / Programmer : Mazil Gul Khan Tabla : Prashant Sonagra Violin : Sanchit Choudhary. Sound recordist : Arvind Vishwakarma Our song released by Zee Music Company can be seen on their YT channel : https://youtu.be/pnOHuyTTRvY Or can be heard on any of the music platforms : Gaana : https://gaana.com/album/dil-ki-chitthiyan Wynk : Listen to the song: Dil Ki Chittihyan at https://wynk.in/u/A0CpGaBKC on Wynk Music JioSaavn : https://www.saavn.com/s/song/hindi/Dil-Ki-Chitthiyan/Dil-Ki-Chitthiyan/IFweRDtecgY Apple Music : https://itunes.apple.com/in/album/dil-ki-chitthiyan-single/1449841107 Amazon Music : https://bit.ly/2Hkps29?cc=a24e4edd36c3d8ddcb79899f14ac5678 Google Play : https://play.google.com/store/music/album/Archita_Bhattacharya_Dil_Ki_Chitthiyan?id=Bw52h3lanko6dv6fmvqxvfykdgi&#38;hl=en_GB]]></description>
		
					<wfw:commentRss>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/dil-ki-chitthiyan/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
			<slash:comments>61</slash:comments>
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Happy New Year 2019</title>
		<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/happy-new-year-2019/</link>
					<comments>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/happy-new-year-2019/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Deepak Jeswal]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 30 Dec 2018 03:17:35 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[General]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.deepakjeswal.com/?p=561</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Wishing every one a love filled and prosperous 2019. God Bless !]]></description>
		
					<wfw:commentRss>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/happy-new-year-2019/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
			<slash:comments>43</slash:comments>
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Up</title>
		<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/up/</link>
					<comments>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/up/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Deepak Jeswal]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 09 Feb 2016 02:06:44 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[General]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.deepakjeswal.com/?p=540</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Just a &#8216;sound check&#8217;. This site is very much up and so am I. &#160;It&#8217;s just I have tried my hands at a lot of other things, click so writing took a backseat. &#160;And of course, remedy with all the means &#38; avenues of other social media, visit web it&#8217;s easy to communicate there. &#160;Less formally, that too. &#160;I still feel a blog post needs more thought and attention, compared to a Facebook one! Anyways, just keeping this one kicking and running. &#160; Sharing a pic I clicked on a recent trip to Paradise on Earth : Kashmir.&#160; &#160;]]></description>
		
					<wfw:commentRss>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/up/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
			<slash:comments>32</slash:comments>
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Spams!</title>
		<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/spams/</link>
					<comments>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/spams/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Deepak Jeswal]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Jun 2015 10:26:21 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[General]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.deepakjeswal.com/?p=534</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[It&#8217;s been so long I came here. And in my normal course of things this space went back into deep recesses of memory. I knew it was there just like you know you have that old pair of jeans lying in the back of your cupboard. But never brought it out. Time, salve procrastination and really having it outgrown are some lame excuses I can offer. But fact is it was neglected and forgotten.&#160; Till the time I got a rude shock of receiving a notification mail. I reckon most were getting deposited in the spam inbox till this one somehow went past it and reached my main inbox.&#160; I am aghast shocked and totally saddened to see the amount of spams that have hit the comment boxes of various posts. I am trying to remove them all but the bulk is huge. &#160;And there are human comments too with the most sick and disgusting mentality being shamefully displayed.&#160; I will try to close all comments soon though I will have to figure it out how.&#160; Till then, drugstore let me please tell everyone that the comments on this site are not my creations or responsibility and I do not endorse them at all. &#160;]]></description>
		
					<wfw:commentRss>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/spams/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
			<slash:comments>85</slash:comments>
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Where The Heaven Meets The Earth</title>
		<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/where-the-heaven-meets-the-earth/</link>
					<comments>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/where-the-heaven-meets-the-earth/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Deepak Jeswal]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 26 Dec 2013 15:10:03 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction ]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Launch]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.deepakjeswal.com/?p=524</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
		
					<wfw:commentRss>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/where-the-heaven-meets-the-earth/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
			<slash:comments>799</slash:comments>
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Meera &#8211; Episode 5</title>
		<link>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/meera-episode-5/</link>
					<comments>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/meera-episode-5/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Deepak Jeswal]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 02 Dec 2013 13:24:08 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction ]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.deepakjeswal.com/?p=507</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Meera An Epic Love Story By Deepak Jeswal Episode Five The forest was knotted into a merged mass of trees, fallen leaves and fruits, intertwined with vines growing at reckless, unheeded pace and insects crawling in their fate-less existence. A narrow track had been beaten through it by the incessant footsteps of humanity, shaded by the spreading trees on both sides, their branches intermingling with the other, providing a natural roof to the corridor. With a heavy, coarse shawl wrapped around his shoulders and heads; his non-existence neck buried deep inside, and the ugly, small head bent, the man limped through the path with as much speed as his crippled leg could take him. His hands, inside the folds of the shawl, clutched a heavy pouch of coins. Somewhere, in the near distance he could hear a few howls and cries of the wild animals, but he was not scaredâ€¦Raktaprasad had often taken this path, as did many others. And, moreover, today, his mind was stimulated by the lovely bulge of the bag that he held in his hand. It was his moment of glory- the British, true to their words, had given him the five hundred gold coins; let the two kingdoms fight, he would leave the country today itself to the far off plains on the south and settle there. The night was nearly wearing off; from the small patches of openings on the green roof above, he could see the full moon aboveâ€¦so beautiful! Well, everything was beautiful today; just as his luck had been. His mind replayed the events of the last few days â€“ Arjun had come back from a meeting somewhere, angry and shouting, and had blurted out about Meera and Rudra. Seeing his opportunity, Raktaprasad had conveyed the same message to Shorya â€“ a person Raktaprasad knew would be interested in this piece of information. Then, Shorya had asked him to impart a false alarm about Rudra planning to fight a battle to Arjun. The trick workedâ€¦Arjun, in his stupid fury and idiotic gallantry, had persuaded the King to give a befitting reply. And then of course, seeing the opportunity, Raktaprasad had gone to these lovely British men, with their riches and their hunger for land! Tomorrow, the motion of the events that he had so willfully created would culminate in the battlefield, with the death of manyâ€¦but who cares? Tomorrow, he would leave as soon as the sun rose. &#160; He heard a few more rustles in the depth of the dark around him, and clutching the pouch tighter, he increased his pace. Suddenly, from a small patch behind him, he heard an unfamiliar sound; scared, he turned around; two men, in black and heads covered, had pounced upon the track from a small clearing on the sides. Raktaprasadâ€™s blood froze; lost in his thoughts, he had noticed them, and a sharp fear gripped his heart. Turning on his heels, he started to run, as much as he could with his limp; but the men were large and much stocky than his diminutive self. They were just behind him, and one of them raised his leg and pushed him with full force on the lower back, which sent him staggering forward, his hands rising to balance; in doing so, the pouch fell with a loud jingle as the coins dropped on the sandy track. His voice stuck in his throat; but there was no point in his screaming â€¦when he fell, the men had jumped on him; one of them immediately pushed on his mouth with a heavy palm, the other held his struggling feet; the first man, with his free hand, took out a dagger from his waist. Raktaprasad fought with all the might that his body could gather and his eyes stared wildly as the man raised his dagger to stab him. The body convoluted and wriggled for some five minutes before it stilled. Raktaprasad died with his tiny head mashed against the gold coins, and his body ripped at the heart, to enable his confirmed death. The men got up, and looked at each other with satisfaction. â€œLetâ€™s go and inform Sir George!â€ ************************************************************************ &#160; Queen Meenakshi had never seen her husband in such a frail state; his eyes were sunken, his face pale and he murmured incoherently. He lay on the expansive bed, his head resting on the golden bed rest with unease, as she sat beside him holding his hand, and trying to soothe his pain with her comforting, warm strokes. â€œMy lordâ€¦everything will turn out to be fineâ€¦please, in the name of Lord Krishna, do not worry so!â€ In her heart, she knew that no amount of platitudes will work; but there was nothing else that she could do. History had placed them at a crucial crossroad. â€œI do not worry about the battle, Meenakshi!â€ murmured the King, his eyes closed, and his head shaking as if controlling the flow of tears that were waiting to burst out. â€œI have seen many battles in my lifetime and fought them with all my strength and won them too. But this one hurts me.It is not right! My poor Rudra has been caught in this.â€ â€œRudra has agreed to figh and he will fight; he cannot back away from the word that he has given me. And he is a strong man; I have full faith in him!â€ â€œNoâ€¦noâ€¦I do not fear that, Meenakshi! I fear that I have been wrong to him &#8211; his marriage to Roopmati was wrong! I should not have allowed this; looking back I have committed the same sin as my father did in forcing me to marry Laxmiâ€ â€œWhy do you remember all these past events? And, even if the marriage was wrong, Rudra should have understood his duty as a husband, and not gone after Meera and this affairâ€ The king nodded, but did not reply. In his heart, the painful words of Rudra echoed and pierced him from within. â€œFather, my plight is something that even the Gods will cry atâ€¦caught in a marriage with a woman who never understood meâ€¦caught in an affair that would never fructifyâ€¦â€ &#160; ************************************************************************ &#160; Rattanâ€™s blood curdled as he saw the woman standing at his doorstep, her frame silhouetted against the shining moon light. â€œMeeraâ€¦what brings you here at this timeâ€¦and why?â€ Meera took off the shawl from her face, and entered the room, and rushed to hug him. He stood frozen and did not move, nor did he make any efforts to hug her. â€œOh Rattanâ€¦I am so scaredâ€¦what is this happeningâ€¦I did what you told me to! But, I was not expecting this to happenâ€¦not a war!â€ &#160; She clung to him with a child-like feverishness. He pushed her back; it was quite irritating for him to humor her, at least not now, just when he had been thinking about his Tara. He looked into her face- it was not the face that he had described to Tara- that was his ploy to get Tara jealous and perhaps show off her own charms the way she did to her customers. Meera was not as charming, but she was not uglyâ€¦she did have very expressive large eyes, but the nose was way too flat, and the lips not as sensuous. But she was the kingâ€™s daughterâ€¦and quite stupid to have fallen for his rustic charms. So, Rattan did not mindâ€¦it helped, and what the heck, she was a woman at the end of the day! â€œYou should not have come at this hourâ€¦what if someone sees you? You must not forget you are the kingâ€™s daughterâ€¦they will kill both of us if they find out!â€ â€œI donâ€™t careâ€¦I donâ€™t botherâ€¦I love you, you love me; and this war will only worsen mattersâ€¦let us run away from here!â€ Rattan looked at her with disgust; has this woman gone crazy? Run off? With her? For, what? He looked at her squarely- she was getting to be a bit too much of a nuisance for him, with her serious love business. He had to correct her. â€œMeeraâ€¦I have no plans of running away anywhere with you!â€ She was aghast as she heard the words; her eyes brimming with instantaneous tears; her heart throbbing within the confined walls of her ribs. â€œWhere will we go from here? In any case, your father will find us out immediately. And what will we do in some other kingdomâ€¦we need money and some work! Donâ€™t worry too muchâ€¦look, let the war get over, and then we shall present our case to your fatherâ€¦what difference does it make to you if this war happens or notâ€¦donâ€™t let your guilt get the better of youâ€¦go home, please!â€ She stood rooted, without any movement. He moved forward and lightly placed his arms around her, trying to be comforting. But she was not convinced. There was something wrong. â€œNoâ€¦no, Rattan! It was has to be now- the battle might end up any way! We cannot delay it further.â€ Rattan winced; should he say it now, or wait- she might revolt and tell her father the entire truth, and then he would lose his life, for sure. But could she risk telling about him- after all the brouhaha that was happening because of her alleged affair with Rudra? No, she would not risk it; better to finish this off permanently. â€œMeera, please! I cannot do this now!â€ â€œDo you love me?â€ He was taken aback with this abrupt question. He hesitated in his replyâ€¦she jerked his arm off her shoulders, and looked at him squarely, into his eyes, searing through them and getting into his heart. â€œSo, you donâ€™t love me? Then, what was all this that was happening between us the past many months? Why did you make me do this sin?â€ Irritatingly Rattan moved his hand through the flop of his hair, and narrowed his eyes, grimacing, and trying to think a suitable reply for her. How could he tell her that he was paid a handsome amount of money by Roopmati to get Meera to ensnare Rudra? â€œWellâ€¦the motive was exactly as I had told you, in the larger interests of the country, and your father.â€ â€œNoâ€¦I donâ€™t believe you!â€ â€œThen, you can think whatever you want to, and please leaveâ€¦I am not telling anythingâ€ he replied, raising his voice. Meera cringed, but stared back at him, in a half hurt, half realization glare. â€œDo you really love me?â€ she repeated again. He hesitated; now was the time to tell her the truth, and get it over with, forever. She had asked a direct question, that too twice, and he would answer directly; but seeing the fire in her eyes, he hesitatedâ€¦could he? â€œWellâ€¦Meera, of courseâ€¦but what you are saying is neither practical nor possible. There is a vast chasm between our social structureâ€¦I mean, you are the Kingâ€™s daughter!â€ â€œYou did not think of our vast difference when you gave me all those promises of love and life earlier? You did not think I was the kingâ€™s daughter when you made me do that sinful act of playing Rudraâ€™s lover? You did not think of anything practical when the situation led itself to a war that shall see the deaths of thousands. No Rattanâ€¦I am sure you do not love meâ€ She gave a wistful smile to herself, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. â€œI donâ€™t know what blinded me to foolishly agree to your demands!â€ Turning back swiftly, she adjusted the shawl back on her head and walked out of the room in quick strides to the horse waiting for her. Rattan stood rooted, a deep relief permeating through his mind- at last, this stupid chapter was over! He sat on his makeshift bed, and stared ahead in the darkness, trying to recall how and when this drama had begun. A year back, while he was still the paramour and fancied man of Roopmati to satisfy her physical urges (he smiled, she was good), he told her about Meera- the Kingâ€™s own daughter- fanciful, naughty and footloose, but like all rich and secluded girls, stupid and emotionally depraved. With her too, he had played his innocent friendship and poverty card; the lonely and uncared for Meera immediately jumped to his bait. The next day Roopmati had come up with a wild plan that even he thought was not possible to carry outâ€¦she wanted Rudra to somehow fall in love with Meera, so that she could humiliate her husband, and take her revenge. For this, he would be handsomely compensated (and to be fair, he was paid off quite well, and on time). Initially, he was suspect of the entire plan, but when Meera succumbed to it with the ease of putty in a workerâ€™s hand, he realized his immense control on her, and now, on the hindsight, Roopmatiâ€™s idea had not been all that bizarre. When he had told her of the success of the mission, and that Rudra was suitably in Meeraâ€™s love-clutches, he remembered the absolutely frozen look on Roopmatiâ€™s face. â€œAt last, I have my revenge! Tomorrow, I shall tell this to Arjun, Meeraâ€™s official fiancÃ©eâ€¦â€ That night, she had been an animal in the bed. He sat with his head rested against the wooden wall, one leg dangling, and the other raised on the bed, with his arm placed, stretched, on the knee; as he thought of that night, he felt a pleasurable pain building up again between his thighs, and was a little shocked at it; but he allowed his mind to wander; he imagined the night with Roopmati, but the face was not hersâ€¦there was Tara! The damn whore! He will get her someday! Outside, the nightâ€™s lengthy arms outstretched to touch the tender fingers of the dawn. The river continued its flowâ€¦ &#160; ************************************************************************ &#160; Taraâ€™s bare feet ached as she ran through the jungle, ignoring the thorns that were piercing her soft flesh, and the warm blood oozing out of them; her anklets were the only sound that brushed past the fallen leaves of the path; her hair (still curly from the pleats that she had tied earlier on) was disheveled, dusty, open and hung loosely on her shoulders. She picked up her ghagra over her toes, in order to avoid tripping over it, as she ran the distance to Rudraâ€™s private palace, hoping that she would find him there. She had secured a shawl tightly around her shoulders. She barely registered the passing trees and shrubbery. The dawn was cracking out of its dark cocoon- a thin red streak coloring the grey skies. She tore the vines and branches that had in their unruly growth danced upon the path, and she felt the hurt of the nicks and cuts on her soft bare hands. She did not recognize the force that had made her run out of the house in the middle of the night, leaving the drunk and sleeping Shorya on her bed, but as she traversed the distance, she realized that she had to be there before it was too late. She had deliberately avoided the route through the town, fearing that she might meet someone who would know her, though she was in a doubt as to the explanation that she would have to give to Chanda Bai for this unexpected sojourn. She ran on, her breath short and fast, and audible, but she gulped down and felt a thorny pain in her dried throat. She came out of the jungle to the open fields; on her right lay the end of the town, and to her left, a path would take her to the palace. With a momentary pause, to take in the fresh air of the early morning, she again resumed her run, the music of her anklets following her. Away from the jungle, she realized that the dawn had split the skies much more than she wished. The private palace of the Crown Prince, built of red sandstone, in a quaint hark back to the Mughal architecture, was looming large in front of her; it was not very big in size, and was surrounded by its own small knot of trees and gardens. She turned to the path, and looked furtively at the guards standing thereâ€¦she was late! There was a marked activity at the courtyard of the palace; there were innumerable horses and the army was getting ready for the battle. Her heart sankâ€¦she could turn back; no one had noticed her as yet. But, her mind did not agree with her; no, she would not turn back. And with a fresh gulp of air, she ran towards the large iron gates, and at the two, blank looking but tough guards standing with their formidable spears! â€œYou girlâ€¦what do you want?â€ One of the guards, dark and with a stern face asked her, as she neared him. â€œI have to meet Prince Rudraâ€¦â€ she started. â€œGet off here, the Prince does not meet anyone here; you will have to go to the Royal Court for thatâ€¦go off!â€ He stared at her. A strong sense of despair rose in her; she pleaded and told them that the Princeâ€™s life was in danger, and she had to meet them, but they were relentless. &#160; ************************************************************************ &#160; When Rudra came out, he was attired in his full armory; though he had hardly slept the night, he seemed fresh; his heart held fear, and stepping out of the door, he looked up heavenwards at the rising sun. Before him, his personal and private army was ready, on polished horses, with their gears and weapons; despite a sea of people standing there, the quietness disturbed him; it was very depressing and heavy; yet, he knew that his army could not be standing there and passing silly jokes when death was throwing its net over them. With a sigh he walked down the short steps, and saw a...]]></description>
		
					<wfw:commentRss>https://www.deepakjeswal.com/meera-episode-5/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
			<slash:comments>40</slash:comments>
		
		
			</item>
	</channel>
</rss>
