A horseride

1830

Nuranti Dhala was an attractive Armenian beauty with a hint of Irish in her Asian features. When she flashed her eyes in annoyance, one could detect the Irish rage that can be traced back to the times when the Nine Years’ War was fought. Sometimes her mother, Tyas would try to catch that gleam, which brought back a thousand memories of her long gone husband, Garret O’Neil. If she looked really deep, she found the kind, down-to-earth disposition that he had had, the good natured laughter that had moved his belly up and down, the impulsive ways which she had fallen in love with when she was nineteen. Just nineteen.

She watched Nuranti fidget as Dora, who’d been with them since before Garret died, pulled the leg-of-mutton sleeved dress down Nuranti’s bosom with much difficulty. The dress was clinched at the waist so tight that her daughter struggled to level her breathing.

“But oh, lads this age like the girls such”, thought Tyas as she put her daughter’s discomfort away from her mind.

Nuranti was fifteen now, her skin dark complexioned but delicate-looking which hid her blushes when boys tugged at her hair or blood pounded in her head during one of her temper-fits. When the latter happened, she would throw away everything within reach and scream out all the things that had bothered her even slightly in the past few days, weeks or months as long back as she could remember.

In the early afternoons, Kara, Nuranti’s best friend (perhaps the only friend she had among the girls) dropped by. Both the girls would sneak out, heads together in gossip, always looking for amusement. Tyas had obvious satisfaction when she eyed Kara’s flat chest and bony figure. Her daughter, on the other hand, was fast shaping into a lady, acquiring appropriate roundness in her curves. Boys would like her much better.

Or so she thought.

The girls ran out in the fields where all the handsome young men gathered on horsebacks to feed their animals. Once in a while, they offered a ride to a pretty Miss who was willing.

But Nuranti’s eyes always sought for Jivan, mounted on his black horse. He always did come over when she caught his eye -at the fields, on the street or by the river. Kara was too shy to try to catch anyone’s eye.

Nuranti would pat his horse’s mouth and even take a ride by herself sometimes. Kara kept her distance from the majestic animal. Jivan’s eyes followed Nuranti as she rode in circles, ready to take charge if the horse decided to do anything more than trot.

Nuranti chatted away to Jivan’s beautiful face without a bother, only punctuated by blunt questions that caused Kara to look away, embarrassed.

Jivan, however, laughed aloud at her bold but innocent inquiries and felt caught up in her curious expressions. At other times, when he found Nuranti alone in her backyard dyeing sheets or feeding the chickens, he put his arm around her waist and stole a kiss or two.

Nuranti didn’t make her liking for him a secret either. She dropped him hints that she would like him to pop her “the question”. This, he always laughed off. It did not worry her too much though as Jivan would speak about the places he would like to take her to and brought her flowers when she was upset.

Nuranti spent hours talking to Kara about the things Jivan said to her and the things she said back to him. She raved about how many games he won and how he could control Mrs. Taho’s wild horse. When Nuranti would give her the chance, Kara confided about the boy who worked at the poultry farm and his beautiful, intense eyes.

“Intense eyes!” scoffed Nuranti, “But has he kissed you yet?” to which Kara blushed furiously.

Tyas was fond of Jivan too as she always had hot biscuits ready for him whenever he stopped by. Though she did not see the love in his eyes for his daughter, she knew he cared for her and that Nuranti would be his obvious choice.
Or so she thought.

**

Two weeks following the quiet autumn season, Kara announced, looking all flushed and excited, “I’m engaged! Jivan wants to marry me!”

Nuranti gave a cracking laugh, dismissing Kara with her hands as she recalled Jivan’s last visit when he had nursed her wound after her fall from his horse. Though it had been just a few scratches, she liked the way he had fussed over her.

Kara’s thin voice, which was a pitch higher at the moment, interrupted her reverie. As she continued to narrate how Jivan had taken her for a ride first before proposing to her, Nuranti felt the earth slip from beneath her feet. She could not believe how he could have purposely misled her.

“He has made a fool out of me” she muttered as she felt her Irish pride being masked behind her Armenian traits.

“And that Kara, she had a thing for that field hand of a boy at the farm!” she thought, stamping her foot on the dried leaves.

Then she cried hard for the first time since she was four. Her temper rose a few times between the sobs when she told off Dora and broke the porcelain vase. She grew angrier as she held her Irish dad’s tattered photo in her hand.
Tyas waited till the photo had been put away before entering the room.

“Don’t let that precious heart break so young, my child! You haven’t lost anything!”Tyas stroked her daughter’s hair.

“I know the twins across the street have eyes for you. Sometimes, obsessing over one person does not let you see those who really admire you.”

It was a few months before Nuranti could talk to Kara without the bitterness creeping in her heart. Jivan, his usual playful self, still offered her rides and brought her flowers, though she did not accept them anymore. In fact, she thought it was pretty indecent of him to flirt with her when he belonged to someone else.

But when she did observe him with Kara, she noticed a change in his manners which she had never seen before. Tears stung her eyes as she saw the obvious softness in his expressions with which he watched Kara and the subtle smile that lingered on his lips when Kara did not meet his eyes while talking.

With a jolt Nuranti realized that Jivan had always been like that but she had been too preoccupied to have noticed. The betrayal by Kara was part of her life now though she couldn’t quite blame Jivan for what he did. As she watched him lift Kara’s chin and bend over to press his lips to hers, Nuranti took out another conclusion. Kara was too much of a cow to betray anybody. In fact she felt sorry for her for being so naïve.

Then in the tiniest bit of her heart she felt happiness for her friend. Jivan would take good care of the fragile Kara. Whereas Nuranti, she would manage just fine by herself, thank you very much. Now she wouldn’t have to settle for something that she had thought was love. She would know the difference.

The next morning saw a gentle breeze rustling away the autumn leaves. Jivan called out to Nuranti patting his horse energetically.

“Need a ride, sunshine? Climb on!”

Climb she did after slapping him across the face.

__END__