RAABTA

The two shadows met at the darkest corner of the Rani Mahal late at night. “Hua kya hai… jaldi boliye.” He looked around, alarmed lest the guards see them. “Wohh, humne yeh socha ke aapko suchit kar de ke Shyaam mandir bolke hum Jija ko kaha le jana chahte.” Her voice had a hint of anxiety in it. “Matlab? Subah aapne hi toh Dadabhai se bola…” “Haan Dadabhai Shakti,woh islie kyunki hum nahi chahte thee ki woh ya Jija jaane se mana kare…” “Par le kaha ja rahe hum unko?” “Jaha sab kuch ka aanth hua tha wahi se nayi surwaad karvane.” She smiled faintly. “Kya? Vrindavan? Asambhav. Dadabhai nahi jaenge waha.” He shook his head vigorously, making it a point that it was impossible to convince an adamant Kunwar Pratap. “Ve avashya aenge, unko aana parega. Jija ke liye.” Pur’s voice was loud and clear as he stood there watching her leave.  “Ajabde bhabisa ke bhaati yeh bhi sherni bann rahi, hei eklingji hum ko dadabhai ke krodh sebacha lena.” Shakti murmured a soft prayer....

The guests were arriving at the gateways of the main entrance of the Kumbha palace. The nagada announced each arrival as the 16 chieftains of Mewar arrived with their families to be personally welcomed and greeted by Udai Singh, Jaivanta bai and Dheer bai in turn as Rawatji introduced them to a preoccupied Kunwar Pratap. He hadn’t slept all night; he had stayed awake trying to put himself in the position of his newly married, abandoned bride who had trusted him with her life. He had tried to figure out the right words of apology in vain. He knew his Ajabdeh. He knew how much it had hurt her. The morning arrived with the palace welcoming eminent guests from all over Mewar and beyond for the wedding celebrations. Udai Singh, along with Dheerbai and the other queens, was joined at the Kumbha Palace gates by a reluctant Kunwar Pratap and Jaivanta Bai, folding hands before the guests. “Aur kaun kaun aana baaki reh gaya Rawatji?” “Saare samath aa chuke… bas kelwa ke Samanth p...

Over the past months, Ajabdeh Baisa had trained her mind and body to be Bijolia’s Baijilal. Bijolia’s very own “Ajbandeh” was now everyone’s Baijilal, running the administration and defence for the Punwar house. She had grown into what her mother thought was a reflection of the woman she always admired, Maharani Jaivanta Bai. She feared mentioning that even to herself lest wounds be reopened and cause pains that can never heal. Ajabdeh had made Bijolia and her subjects her life, ever since that faithful day she broke the norms and took an oath as Samanth. She vowed to be the son her father wanted. However, although Bijolia was more than happy knowing they were in Baijilal’s safe hands, she was clear that her position was just as Balwant’s representative and nothing else. As per the norms, the news had reached the Kumbha Palace. Rawat Chundawat was walking down to the court when he could spot the messenger from Bijolia. His heart had skipped a beat, worried for her. In the cou...

She woke to the empty, restless feeling that refused to go. She checked if her pillow was still wet from the tears. No? She put it aside and folded her hands, thankful for another day. Another day to breathe, smile and live in. For everyone. She stepped out of the four-posted  beds in the east wing of the small palace of Bijolia. Home? No. The home was where he was, or so she had vowed ten days back. A smile filled her lips. Irony. Who knew she would be here now? Fate. Maybe. Her payal alerted the daasi, who stepped in to help her get dressed. The  jewellery . The royal lehenga. The signs of marriage. She was braiding her long hair neatly in silence. She wished the Daasis would speak to her. Perhaps they were unsure of what to say. What would she tell a girl who was thrown out of her Sasural three days after her marriage? Clueless about her mistakes. Humiliated by the King and his Queen. What would she have told a girl whose husband abandoned her, for the m...