RAABTA

Pratap had reached the lawn sharp at 6AM to find Ajabdeh sipping on a cup of black coffee in a pensive mood. She was clearly not a morning person. Her outfit of the day was a pair of casual ripped denim teamed with a black top and she frowned at his same clothes like he had committed some crime. “Look I am on time.” She kept down her cup in a monotonous tone and said “Let’s go.” He had followed her silently keeping his distance to the stable where Patta smiled politely at him and said “He was waiting for you I guess. He kept neighing since the light of dawn.” He held open the stable door no 9 in anticipation of perhaps a wild gallop but the horse stepped out with much poise and grace making Ajabde smile at it while Pratap held the reign just to be careful. They took the horse out to the meadows where Patta had already kept the ingredients Pratap had ordered for the balm. Sitting on a haystack with her legs crossed, Ajabdeh stared at the boys making the balm and applyi

Ajabdeh was being helped by a maid to be dressed in a pair of leather pants and a tank top she could find in her luggage. She was putting on her boots when another maid informed some “Pratap Singh” was here to see her. She frowned. She was hearing this name for the first time. The grandfather clock in the hallway had just struck six and her eyes lit up. Pratap was looking around the well-maintained lawn, with a fountain and chairs and tables with umbrellas around the fountain area. He was standing in the middle of the ground, in his camouflage cargo pants, brown leather boots and a black polo tee shirt neatly tugged in, enough to show off his well-maintained torso and arms, when he heard sounds of boots. He turned to see Rajkunwari Ajabdeh, her hair neatly tied in a ponytail above her head, walking towards him, wearing a pair of black rectangular shades, accompanied by her manager in toe. “Good Morning Mr Rider.” Ajabdeh had smiled chirpily. “Good Morning.” He had smiled eye

Ajabdeh Punwar had driven into Surajgarh not knowing what to expect.   Once a person crossed the board in green and white that said “Welcome to Surajgarh Estate”, a few hour's drive from Udaipur; one could surely feel they have travelled back a thousand years. She had stopped at the border of the estate where Chundawatji met her and insisted he would drive her for the rest of the way. She gave in, tired from the long journey, and sat behind him, in a comfortable posture. She had worn a bandhani red and orange churidar, just to make a good first impression, and it wasn’t at all comfortable. She had no clue what Kasturi had packed for her “Himalayan Retreat” but right now, she had a whole different agenda in her mind, she could figure out what to wear later.  The old black and yellow board read “Panwarmer” as they rode across the village scenes. The men and women stopped to bow to the car with the royal flag, as Ajabdeh soaked into every scene that came her way trying to under