Misc. Erotica Respect and Revenge

[Deepak.kapoor]

Layers of Yesterday

After Sartaj left for the office, Sher found his opportunity. He approached Meera, who was standing on the balcony looking outside. Sher softened his voice, making it sound respectful and humble.

Sher: "Memsaab... if you don't mind, may I ask you something?"

Meera looked at him, casually replying, "Yes Sher, speak, what is it?"

Sher hesitated slightly, keeping his eyes fixed on Meera's face as he spoke, "Memsaab, looking at you and Sir, it's clear you love Sartaj Sir deeply. But sometimes the respect in your eyes for him seems even deeper than love. It feels as if your bond isn't just about love, but something far greater... as though he did something for you that you can never forget."

The expression on Meera's face shifted for a moment. An old memory and that boundless respect for Sartaj surfaced in her eyes—the very thing Sher was eager to gauge.

Taking a deep breath, Meera smiled softly, "You guessed right, Sher. Sartaj isn't just my husband... he is my savior. He supported me and pulled me out of the dark when I thought my life was over. The respect I have for him stands above any relationship in this world."

Meera's gaze drifted into the void, as if returning to the dark alleys of her past. A quiet stillness descended upon her face.

Taking a long, heavy breath, Meera said, "Sher, I have never seen a man like Sartaj in my entire life. We studied together in college. He loved me silently, but he never uttered a single word. He just watched me from afar. Later, according to my family's wishes, I got married to Aarav. Aarav was a good man; I liked him and was very happy in my married life."

She closed her eyes, as if trying to blur that memory, before continuing in a low voice, "But then... while living with Aarav, I fell into a deep trap from which I saw no way out. I thought I would lose everything. At that moment, I remembered Sartaj. I went to him as a friend and asked if he could help me."

Sher stood listening quietly, but his mind was racing. He understood that in the name of 'friendship,' Sartaj had fought a battle Meera couldn't fight herself.

Sher asked, "So Sir helped you, Memsaab?"

A faint glint of tears surfaced in Meera's eyes as she nodded, "Help? Sher, he put his very life on the line to drag me out of that hell. He didn't just save me, he didn't let a single scratch touch my honor. Whatever I am today is entirely because of him."

Sher bowed his head, but muttered inwardly, 'So that's how it is... the old lover played the savior and won the prize. But Memsaab, to take off those glasses of gratitude, I made that potion. When deep sleep takes over, you won't remember Aarav or Sartaj's favors... there will only be this Sher and your fair flesh.'

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After Sher left, Meera returned to the silence of her bedroom. She picked up Sartaj's photo resting on the table and gazed at it affectionately. The layers of yesterday began unspooling in her mind.

Pressing the photo to her chest, she whispered with a choked voice, "Sartaj... I still remember the day I found out you never married anyone in my memory. I was living my married life, and you were living alone, carrying my memories. Then fate struck such a blow that I was forced to come to you for help."

A tear slipped from Meera's eyes, dropping onto the photo frame.

"You took my pain as your own and pulled me out of that hell... without any expectation, without any greed. When Shankar died and everything settled down, three months later when I met you, my head was bowed under the weight of gratitude."

"I felt that since you had done so much for me, I should surrender this body to you... I offered it to you myself."

She continued whispering with a bitter, emotional smile, "I knew you had loved me silently for years; I thought you wouldn't refuse. But even then, holding my hand, you turned me down."

She recalled how Sartaj had rejected her offer, saying, "If I accept this offer of yours today, what difference will be left between me and Shankar?"

Tears fell from her eyes as she remembered Sartaj's words: "You said you couldn't accept such a 'favor' from a friend. You said I owed you nothing."

Meera took a cold breath, "The very body Shankar was swallowing like a black hole to trade, you refused to take even as a gift. You respected my soul, Sartaj... that's why today I am not just your wife, I am your devotee."

Meera sank deeper into the ocean of her memories. She brought Sartaj's photo close to her face, looking into his eyes as she spoke, "Sartaj, that day by rejecting my body, you won my soul. A love awakened in my heart for you that was far above physical desire... it was pure and spiritual. But you... you started running away from me."

The scene of that wedding floated before her eyes. "Then I invited you to Riya's wedding. Riya... my sister-in-law, whom you saved from that same hell of Shankar's. When Riya folded her hands to thank you, you smiled, stroked her head, and said—'Sisters don't thank brothers, it was just my duty.' That simplicity of yours captured my heart completely."

A maternal smile touched Meera's face. "That was where I met your daughter Jyoti for the first time. When I learned the truth, I was stunned. That innocent little girl whose parents were killed in a gang war... in the chaos of that security officer station, when that crying child held your hand, you made her yours forever. An unmarried man gave an orphan child his own name as her father... that day, my respect for you touched the sky."

Then Meera's tone grew soft and somber. "But after that wedding, you vanished again. As if you wanted to run far away from me... perhaps you feared that coming close to me might spark some greed or weak thought in your mind. You wanted to keep the wall of your righteousness so high that no harm would ever touch me."

The tears streaming from Meera's eyes refused to stop now. That single question from Sher had broken an old dam of memories. Clutching Sartaj's photo in her trembling hands, she sobbed.

"You vanished again with your daughter... as if after fulfilling your duty, you wanted to leave my life forever. I searched frantically for your name in newspapers, waited for news of you on TV. Then one day came the news that you were critically injured in an encounter. My breath almost left my body."

She recalled how she tried frantically to reach him when her phone rang. "Jyoti called me from the hospital... that's when I learned you had instructed Jyoti that if anything happened to you or if you passed away, she should only come to me. Even in your final moments, you trusted only me."

Meera's throat tightened, "I rushed to the hospital. When I saw you lying lifeless on that bed wrapped in bandages... I felt as though all the air was sucked out of my chest. My heart forgot how to beat. In that moment, I realized what you meant to me… you weren't just a friend, you had become my reason to live."

She rested her head against the picture, remembering that terrifying hospital scene where Sartaj's battle between life and death had broken Meera completely. She wept continuously, crushed under the weight of gratitude and love that Sartaj had never even flaunted.

Meera's tears rolled down her cheeks onto Sartaj's photo. She could still feel the coldness and suffocation of those hospital corridors today.

"You were in the ICU, hovering between life and death. I was trying to stay strong in front of Jyoti because that little girl was completely shattered. Just then, the nurse came and handed me all your personal belongings so I could keep them safe."

Meera closed her eyes, as if standing in that room once again. "Jyoti was just a child, playing with your car keys. Then she picked up your wallet, opened it, and chimed happily—'Auntie, look! Papa has a photo of me and you in his wallet.' Those innocent words pierced my heart like a blade."

She remembered taking Sartaj's old leather wallet into her trembling hands. "When I looked, alongside Jyoti's photo was that old picture of me from our college days. That photo was so old its edges were curling, yet you had preserved it like a priceless treasure."

Meera's sobs grew heavier. "In that single moment, I realized how deeply you had loved me all these years. For so long, without saying a word, without any hope, you had kept me closest to your heart. You kept chanting my name in your silence while I remained blind to it. That day I realized how much yearning and love lay hidden behind your silence."

Meera kissed the photo and closed her eyes, as if repeating the vow she took in that cold hospital corridor.

"In that moment, I made a promise to myself, a solemn vow that I would go to any length to save you. I immediately called my husband Aarav and my parents-in-law. I  told them Sartaj was in the ICU and had no one of his own in this city besides little Jyoti, so until he recovered completely, I would stay by his side at the hospital."

A faint smile appeared on Meera's face as she recalled her family's reaction. "Aarav and Mom-Dad didn't hesitate for a second. In their eyes, you were always a deeply respected person and a true friend to me. They just said—'Of course Meera, you stay there and take full care of him, there's nothing to worry about.'"

She took a long, deep breath, "They never knew how you had protected the honor of their daughter Riya and their daughter-in-law, meaning me. To them, you were just a 'good friend,' but to me, you were the savior who had nourished our entire family's dignity with your blood. They were oblivious to the sacrifice you carried in your silence, and I... I was simply praying for your safety."

Meera pressed Sartaj's photo against her face, the string of memories coming to rest on that one phone call that changed her world.

"In the hospital while you were unconscious, your sister called from Canada on your mobile. With trembling hands, I picked up the phone and told her you were in the ICU. The moment she realized it was Meera speaking, a strange comfort filled her voice. She simply said—'Meera? Thank God you're with him. Now I know he'll be fine because he's in the right hands. Back in college, he always used to talk about you.'"

Tears streamed down Meera's eyes again. "I was stunned... my head spun hearing that. It felt as though the whole world knew about your silent love except me. Your sister, your friends, perhaps everyone knew how desperately you loved me, only I remained blind, failing to see that boundless desire."

She took a long breath, staring into the eyes in the photo as she whispered, "You never let your love become your weakness, Sartaj. You made it a strength so that even from afar you kept protecting me. I still regret taking so long to understand you."

A pained smile touched Meera's face as she recalled that night.

"When Chandan brought us home from the hospital, his only goal was for me and Jyoti to get some rest. Chandan had lovingly said, 'Memsaab, Jyoti is young, she needs home sleep, and you must gather strength too.' Arriving home, I fed Jyoti and put her to sleep, but my mind remained stuck at the hospital with you."

Meera ran her fingers over her eyes, as if looking at that phone screen again. "I needed to update your sister on your health, but your phone was locked. I didn't have her number either. I was anxious, wondering what the code could be. Then, on a whim, I typed the four digits of my birthdate... and the phone unlocked."

Meera's voice grew heavy again. "I was thunderstruck, Sartaj. You were away from me for years, you never even wished me a happy birthday because I was someone else's wife... you never crossed your boundaries. Yet your phone unlocked with my birthdate. You pretended to forget me, but the truth was my existence was woven into every breath and every possession of yours."

She pressed the photo to her forehead, weeping softly. "How alone did you bear all this? How quietly did you nurture a love that could never be yours?"

The trail of Meera's memories now rested on the anxiety of that night when Sartaj was fighting death at the hospital and she was praying for him at home.

She folded her hands toward the picture of Guru Gobind Singh Ji hanging in the corner of the room. Though Meera herself practiced Hinduism, she knew very well what Sartaj's ideals were. Sartaj's entire life was woven around the teachings of Guru Gobind Singh Ji and the discipline of a 'Saint-Soldier.'

Recalling that night, Meera prayed, "O Waheguru... protect this true follower of yours. Let nothing happen to him. He is a true Saint-Soldier who never crossed his boundaries."

She remembered those college days when Sartaj often said that whenever a difficult crossroad arose in his life or he had to choose a tough option, he thought of only one thing—'What would my Guru Maharaj do in this situation?' That very ideal had kept him unwavering in his silent love for Meera as well. He had never let that love be tarnished by lust or betrayal.

Meera wiped her tears, muttering to herself, "Sartaj, you are a true disciple of that Guru who never learned to bow down. And I... I will remain your shadow now."

The caravan of Meera's memories came to a halt on that emotional moment when the old house servant Chandan also sat on his knees beside her. That night the silence was so deep that their soft whimpers echoed off the walls.

Tears streamed from Chandan's eyes, his throat choked. Folding his trembling hands, he had said to Meera, "Memsaab, I've spent my entire life, but I haven't seen a human being like Sartaj Sir to this day. God cannot snatch such a jewel from us."

Meera had seen Chandan's very soul tremble as he recalled an old incident. Chandan wept, saying, "Memsaab, when my daughter scored great marks in 12th grade and dreamed of becoming a doctor, I didn't have enough money to send her to medical college. I told my girl we couldn't afford such a big college. That's just our fate."

Wiping his eyes, Chandan continued, "When Sir found out about this from somewhere, he called me over and scolded me. He said—'Chandan, your girl is like my own daughter. Why didn't you tell me sooner? Don't worry, I'll bear all the expenses for her studies and her becoming a doctor.' Memsaab, without telling anyone, he built my daughter's future. Dear God, spare this good man's life."

Meera listened to Chandan's words, feeling as though there was no end to Sartaj's goodness. He wasn't just a fine officer, but an angel who quietly wiped away the tears of others. That night, their joint prayers carried a single desperate plea—for that 'Saint-Soldier' to just open his eyes once.

Meera touched Sartaj's photo to her cheeks, as if still feeling the warmth of that old smile. She still remembered that first ray of relief after those grueling days.

"Perhaps Guru Maharaj heard our plea that day, Sartaj. You gradually began slipping from the clutches of death. Your health began to improve, and I dedicated all my time, my entire soul to standing you back up on your feet. From changing your bandages to feeding you medicine, I remembered nothing else."

A tender smile bloomed on Meera's lips. "One day, when you regained full consciousness, you showed that same old nobility of yours. You softly tried to stop me, telling me not to waste so much of my time on you. I remember, that day for the first time I got furious with you. In anger I said—'Lie down quietly, I'm not going to listen to a word from you!'"

Meera recalled how Sartaj reacted at that moment. "At my scolding, a smile appeared on your face that I can never forget. It felt as if you found my claiming of authority, my anger, so endearing."

"Then I told you that Aarav and my entire family stood behind my decision and wanted me to serve you."

She took a long breath. "The peace that appeared on your face at that moment pierced my heart. You were wrapped in bandages on a hospital bed, returning from a fight with death, yet even then your only worry was that your presence shouldn't bring any bitterness into my married life. Forgetting your own plight, you were thinking about the peace of my home."

Pressing Sartaj's photo to her chest, Meera remembered the day the wall of their restraint wobbled slightly for the first time. That scene floated before her eyes like a vivid picture.

"You had returned home from the hospital and were recovering well. I still remember, I wore a white saree that day. You were lying on the bed, and I leaned over to adjust the pillow beneath your head. In that exact moment... my saree's pallu slipped from my shoulder."

A faint tremble touched Meera's voice. "I didn't even realize my pallu had fallen. My breasts hung free beneath that sheer white cloth like juicy fruits right before you. For the first time, I saw a crack in those strong eyes of yours. Your gaze rested there for a few lingering seconds... I saw how your breathing turned heavy and how your restraint fell to its knees for that single moment."

She closed her eyes, as if feeling that intense tension even today. "But you were Sartaj... using all your willpower, you turned your eyes away. Your mood was changed the entire day, you were silent, as if fighting with yourself. And the very next day when I arrived, you told me bluntly that you had been transferred and were leaving the city."

Meera smiled, but pain lingered in her eyes. "I knew, Sartaj, you weren't leaving because of work. You were running from that pull, that craving that was drawing you toward me. You feared that pull might burn our sacred bond to ashes. You wanted to surrender and run away again so no harm would touch my life."

Meera touched the photo to her lips, as if kissing Sartaj's selfless soul. Every single word of that farewell night echoed in her ears today.

"Before the transfer, you invited my entire family over for dinner. I thought you would merely say thank you, but what you did was something no one expected."

"Holding Aarav's hand in front of everyone, you said—'Aarav Babu, it takes a massive heart to send your wife day and night to the hospital to drag a friend out of death's jaws. I will remain indebted to you for life. And as for Meera's debt, I can never repay it, because she dragged me back from death's door.'"

Tears flowed from Meera's eyes once again. "But then you said something that shook us all to the core. You spoke to everyone about your will and Jyoti's responsibility."

"You said—'Seeing my death up close, I have made some decisions. In my absence, all my property and the legal guardianship of Jyoti will belong to Meera. I know Meera will raise Jyoti like her own child, just as she has been doing these past few days.'"

Shaking the photo, Meera spoke in a mix of anger and love, "At that moment, I felt like slapping you hard right in front of everyone! How could you talk about your death so casually, Sartaj? What did you think—you would leave and I would just keep raising Jyoti on your memories? You elevated my respect before the whole world, but you tore my heart open."

The journey of Meera's memories now reached that period in Nagpur. Sartaj's transfer had created miles of distance between them once more, but this time he couldn't vanish completely.

"You left, Sartaj, but you couldn't take little Jyoti's heart with you. That girl had bonded with me so deeply that keeping her away from me wasn't possible even for you. That's why during every vacation you would send her to me in Pune. Even if on the pretext of Jyoti, a piece of you was always chattering away in my home."

Meera recalled how Sartaj, even from afar, remained a protective shadow over her family. "In my father's property case when all paths were blocked, you used your identity and contacts to solve that trouble. When Dad tried to thank you, you silenced him simply by saying—'Meera's family is my own family.' You never flaunted a favor, just quietly fulfilled your duty."

A deep serenity settled in Meera's eyes. She remembered how Sartaj, without an ounce of self-interest, had won the complete trust of both her maiden and marital homes.

The caravan of Meera's memories came to a halt on the saddest, darkest night of all—when Aarav died in a car accident. Remembering it still made Meera's heart tremble today.

"Aarav's sudden passing destroyed my world, Sartaj. I was so drowned in shock that I had no awareness of anything around me. But as soon as you got the news, you arrived here from Nagpur within hours."

Meera took a cold breath, remembering those days when Sartaj stood as a powerful shield before her family. "My father-in-law was completely shattered after losing his young son. You handled everything from paperwork to the last rites as if you were a real son of this house."

She remembered how for seven days Sartaj cared for everyone like a shadow, and when things stabilized slightly, he quietly returned to his duty.

Respect for her father-in-law surfaced in Meera's eyes as she recalled his words. "After you left, Dad Ji told me—'Meera, Sartaj is just like a real son. Without a word, he took on all the responsibilities Aarav would have had to bear. He truly understood what phase we and you were going through.' That selfless service of yours carved a place in my in-laws' hearts that no one else could ever take."

Meera kissed the photo repeatedly, pressing it to her chest. She could never forget those six months when she had turned into a living corpse.

"I was trapped in a deep, dark well for six months, Sartaj. I had no awareness of the world or myself. When you heard about my condition from Dad Ji, you were the one who sent Riya to me and invited us both to Nagpur so I could step out from the walls of that house."

She remembered how Sartaj had rebuilt her nest straw by straw. "There you cared for me as one handles a delicate glass doll. And then one evening... you broke your years of silence. You told me you wanted to cherish me on your eyelids for life. You didn't just convince me, but went to my in-laws to assure them of your noble intentions—that you would give me a complete family."

"Sher... you were asking what lies in my eyes beyond love, right? He is my everything. My life, my honor, my existence... everything is thanks to Sartaj. He is not just my husband, he is my God."

Meanwhile, sitting in his quarters, Sher was polishing that magic vial. He had an idea of Meera's deep loyalty, but he was confident his herbs possessed the strength to tear away this curtain of 'greatness' and 'respect.'

Kissing the vial, Sher said: "Playing the gentleman, are you, Officer? But this Sher isn't so noble. The rich cream you left behind in the name of favor, this Sher will now taste on the strength of his drug. Memsaab won't even realize when her 'savior' changed and when this 'predator' reached her bed."