Chapter 27 - Day 6

Dawn sat low over the fields, a pale veil of mist clinging to the tops of the guava orchards. Cool air drifted across the upper balcony, stirring the silk curtains and carrying the sweet fragrance of blooming jasmine into the master suite. Far in the distance, the first rhythmic recitations of Gurbani echoed over the quiet rooftops from the Gurdwara, blending with the gentle chirping of birds waking in the tall jamun trees.

His eyes opened before the sky turned bright. Stretching his limbs across the wide mattress, his body felt completely restored, the lingering soreness in his thighs and back gone after yesterday’s massage and rest.

Bare feet touched the floor. Stripping out of his soft cotton lower wear, he pulled on navy swim trunks, tying the drawstring secure around his waist.

The grand staircase lay dark as his footsteps descended toward the rear verandah. Smooth stone tiles met his bare soles outside, leading to the edge of the outdoor pool. The turquoise water sat motionless, reflecting the sky like a slab of glass.

A quiet dive broke the surface without a loud splash.

Water rushed over his head and shoulders, the sharp chill waking every nerve in his frame. Long, powerful arm strokes propelled his body through the blue depths, his shoulders rotating in a smooth, rhythmic cadence. He swam back and forth across the pool, letting the buoyancy lift his joints and circulate fresh warmth through his shoulders and legs.

Steady laps ended at the shallow steps. Hoisting his upper body out of the pool, water droplets runneled down his chest and torso, pooling on the stone tiles.

The outdoor poolside shower delivered a warm stream of groundwater, rinsing away the pool chill. Wiping his skin dry with a large cotton towel, he walked back upstairs to his master suite.

Inside his room, dark grey athletic shorts slid over his thighs, followed by a fitted white cotton t-shirt that sat snug across his chest. Hands gathered his dark hair, combing through the long strands before tying a neat joora over his crown. Unspooling a black cotton parna, he bound the cloth tight across his forehead, tucking the end securely at the back.

Descending to the ground floor once more, the faint clinking of brass utensils guided his steps toward the spacious kitchen.

Rukhsar stood near the stove, lighting the gas burner under a large steel pot of milk. Her orange salwar kameez shifted over her hips as she turned. With the kitchen clear of anyone else, her dark eyes lit up bold, her gaze sweeping over his fitted t-shirt and wet shoulders. She stepped away from the counter, leaning her hip against the marble island directly in his path.

“Greetings, Sardaar Ji. Early morning preparation for the match started? Or is the intention to make girls fall for you when they see you?” (Sat Sri Akaal, Sardaar Ji. Subah-subah match laye tayyari shuru ho gayi? Ya fida hon da irada ae kudiyaan nu vekh ke?)

A dimpled grin touched his cheek as he walked over to the counter, picking up a glass blender jug.

“Greetings, Rukhsar. Yes, on match day one has to wake up early in the morning. You keep your focus only on me early morning, are you setting chai or not?” (Sat Sri Akaal, Rukhsar. Haan, match aale din subah jaldi uthna painda ae. Tu subah-subah mere te hi dhyan rakhdi ain, chai dharan laggi ain ke nahi?)

Rukhsar let out a soft laugh, stepping half a pace closer until the scent of her rose perfume drifted over him. Her fingers brushed near his wrist as she reached for the cardamom jar.

“I am setting chai, Sardaar Ji ... but seeing your biceps my hands themselves shake. Brother Amrit and brother Vik also woke up. For them and for you I am making hot chai and buttered toast. If any other service is needed, tell me?” (Chai te dhar dindi aa, Sardaar Ji ... par tuhade dolle vekh ke haath hi kambhde ne. Amrit te Vik veere vi uth gaye ne. Unhana laye te tuhade laye garam chai te makkhan-toast bana rahi aa. Kuch hor sewa chahidi ae te dasso?)

“Serve chai to them, my protein shake will go first. You do the kitchen work comfortably.” (Chai unhana nu fanta dyo, mera te protein shake chalega pehlan. Tu rasoi da kaam kar aaram nal.)

Rukhsar gave him a saucy wink before turning back to the stove, her hips swaying deliberately as she stirred the pot.

Radha walked in through the side door holding a clay pitcher of fresh buffalo milk, her yellow kameez dusted with a bit of flour near the hem. She set the pitcher on the marble island, giving him a quick glance before fetching clean glass jugs.