Glimpses of Eternity -Part 3

Author: Divya Saksena

We stared into each other’s faces, oblivious of the exasperated snorts and shoves of the populace whose progress we were obstructing. Then, very slowly, he put up his hands to straighten the clasp of his cloak that had gone awry as he had pulled me off the road. He looked around us as though waking out of a stupor and then addressed me again. “Well, if you’re sure you’ve suffered no injury, we may as well try and pick up what’s left of your basket and its contents,” he observed. His voice carried the arrogance of a man clearly accustomed to having his commands obeyed and without delay. But I knew I was responding to that unconscious assumption of my compliance contained in his casual “we.”

He bent down to retrieve the few flat loaves and olives and fruit that had not been trodden on by the impatient pedestrians pushing their way around us. His helmet had tumbled off and rolled into a recess at the foot of the small drinking fountain that gushed out of the wall nearby. I picked it up and wiped its gleaming surface with a corner of my shawl and then stood watching him, rather helplessly trying to smooth its red plumes back into some semblance of order by running my fingers through them. “Here you are. This is all that’s worth saving, I’m afraid.” He brought the basket back to me and held it up for my inspection. I peered in at the pitifully meager contents, appalled at how little was left. With a ruthless efficiency that I found easy to understand but hard to forgive he had ended up discarding most of my morning’s secret purchases. Some of my consternation must have shown in my face, for his tone was gentler when he spoke again.

“Was that for your home? Will you get into trouble for taking back so little? It wasn’t your fault, you know! Here, take these and buy some more. Then you’ll be all right.” He fumbled at his belt and brought out a few coins from the pouch tucked into it. They flashed silver in the early morning sunlight as he held them out to me on his open palm. Urged by an instinctive fear, I backed away from his generosity. Certainly I hadn’t expected kindness...

“No, no...” I stammered. “Please, there’s no need for this! It’s nothing important.” The generous stretch of his hand became a curiously imperious one. “Don’t be a fool, woman. Take it! You should be glad to escape punishment at the hands of your master or mistress!” I realized then that the plain robe and shawl I had ‘borrowed’ from the unsuspecting Flavia had misled him to think me a servant, or a slave. I shook my head again and smiled, deriving a new confidence from his ignorance.

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