The Other You

The morning saw a real hustle in the guest cottages as well as the Palace itself. Hansa was running around behind her daughter with a homemade remedy to make her skin “glow” before she went out with the apparent groom, while Heer just shook her head and decided to get ready for the palace tour. She was planning on ending it early with Ranaji’s permission and going to the library for some reading. She smiled at Ajabdeh, making a face like she would puke as Hansa applied her home remedy and showered her with advice.

“Remember, Beta, no loud laughter, walk gracefully. Let him talk. Listen”

“Haa Haa Maata Rani Haa!!!”

“What's this Maata Rani thing now?” Heer frowned as Hansa looked fed up.

“They call their mom that, remember!” Ajabdeh smiled all teeth out.

“Hey Bhagwan, Jija, that was Ranima!” Heer laughed as Hansa gave a cold stare. Ajabdeh was taken by surprise at the revelations as she choked laughing with her younger sibling.

“Kya karu main iss ladki ka!” Hansa controlled her laughter as she shook her head.

Somewhere, a thought struck Heer that without her Jija, that home will never seem like home again with two absolutely normal people. She was the paint on the canvas, no matter how much trouble Heer faced to shield her mistakes. With a sigh, Heer went and hugged a much-surprised Ajabdeh rather tightly.

“Hee…. What happened?” Ajabdeh frowned worriedly as Heer let out a sigh.

“I was just thinking Jija…”

“This is not the time to think, Heer. Go and fetch the clothes I picked for her, and you get ready for the tour. Baba is waiting.” Hansa hurried off as Heer nodded and walked over to the trolleys.

“What did she choose?” Ajabdeh frowned. “Some sack?” Heer smiled faintly. "To cover up every inch of me?"

“Tell me, Heeriye, what happened?” Ajabdeh asked again as Heer took out a blue C-cut sleeveless Kurti with pink lotus motifs to match Ajabdeh’s jeans.

“I was thinking when you leave home after Marria...”

“Whoa! Heeriye! Stop right there!” Ajabdeh got up and waved her hands frantically in the air. 
“I AM NOT GOING ANYWHERE!!!”

“Look, Jija, I don’t know if Pratap Singh is right for you.” Heer stopped as Ajabdeh smiled at her sister, “But I do hope you don't end up doing something….”

“Heer.” Ajabdeh held her hands, making her stop. “Don't overthink everything, please. For god sake, you are just 22, enjoy a little, chill!”

Heer frowned as Ajabdeh went to wash her face. The fact that Ajabdeh clearly ignored the topic worried her some more, but then she remembered Shakti’s words. They are perfect for each other. They are, of course, not Perfect. For once, somewhere deep inside, Heer wished that Kunwar Pratap were a little like his younger brother. Responsible and calm.

“Ranima” Pratap sulked in his vest and towel after a morning shower, making his brother chuckle as Jaivanta held out a perfect shirt for him. 
“Will you hurry up? I'm freezing!”

“Here, wear this one!” She smiled.

“I will look like Papa in that colour!” He flared his nose at the light lime shade.

“Stop sulking, Dadabhai and go get ready!” Shakti stopped at his cold stare.

“You!” Pratap pointed his finger at his younger sibling. “You are responsible for this one!”

Surajgarh was a very serene place, or so Ajabdeh thought as Pratap drove the car through the village, the huts all decked up neatly in homemade paintings on the walls, and women in colourful bandhani lehengas, with matkas walking with small children on the sides of the road. The meadows and ponds, everything seemed divine. Pratap drove past a board that said “Highway” and into the wider road off Surajgarh. She frowned a little.

“Weren't we supposed to explore Surajgarh?”

He was kind of relieved she broke the silence. Since he had picked her up from the cottage, waving goodbye to her smiling parents and a very serious Heer still giving him cold stares, she was unbelievably quiet. He thought of asking what was wrong, but then thought what if she hated his intrusion into her private space. His parents’ eagerness and attitude had made it quite evident that Heer would not be coming along, and that kind of made him feel a little relieved. God only knew how Shakti even talked to that girl; all he got was cold stares and sarcasm.  Pratap turned to the other girl, who now wore a frown on her face. Seeing her clothes, makeup, jewellery and hair made up in braids, he had assumed the torture of dressing up was not alone his and that might have irked her.

“I am asking you something, O hello?” She waved her hands, making him smile.

“Heer didn't insist on coming along?” He asked in return.

“Hah!” Ajabdeh smiled, amused, clapping her hands together, making him smile some more. “If you are missing her, we can go back and…”

“No, No, I…” he stopped at Ajabdeh’s laughter. “She is nice.”

“And scary.” Ajabdeh chuckled. “It’s okay, I know!” She rubbed off some tears that came from the laughter.

“I changed the plan a little since we are alone, we are going somewhere else…”

“And where is that?” made him smile again at her impatience. 
“You showed me your 'it' place that night, so let me show you mine!” 

Ajabdeh’s face lit up with a smile as she said, “So you have a place too? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Coz… I had this thing… Umm…. Leave it!” Pratap shook his head.

“That’s not fair, I told you my secret, so tell me yours!” Ajabdeh sulked.

“I will tell you… But… only on the day you will tell me the secret of that tattoo!” He smirked, concentrating on the road as the Land Rover with Surajgarh’s royal symbol zoomed through the highway.

“Damn! It’s no big deal, okay? I will say it!” She frowned.

“Say it!” She met his silent smile.

“Urgh. The famous silent smile. I will judge your place first!” Ajabdeh made him smile, “If it beats mine!”

“It will.”

“This is our private school, with an international education system; we provide the best education to our employees’ wards.” The manager went on as Udai Singh smiled at Ramrakh, who nodded.

“This is impressive, Ranaji.”

“I heard you set up smart classes in major schools across Udaipur?” Ramrakh smiled at Udai Singh’s words.

“I will be honoured if you take the system from the Punwars, Ranaji.” He smiled, rubbing his hands.

“Umm… Papa,” Shakti’s voice made them turn as Heer was still busy looking at the magnificent heritage school building with all possible modern facilities in it.

“What happened?” Udai Singh frowned as his son walked up the corridor to him. Both men were a little anxious about whether it was some news about…

“The Japanese clients are here, and they want a meeting with you. I have arranged it for 4pm at Udaipur’s Taj.” His words made Udai check his watch.

“Don’t worry, Papa, I will show the guests around.” His last words made Heer turn as she spotted him about five feet away, smiling with her Baba, in his body-hugging grey suit and white shirt, with the blue tie. He looked very strangely similar to the way her father dressed for work. Feeling her gaze, he stared back as eyes met, and Heer managed a smile.

“Good Morning, Kunwarsa.” She greeted him.

“Good Morning, Umm… Heer.” He smiled. “Toh ayiye baaki ka areas main dikhata hoon, Uncle.”

He led the way as Heer checked her phone one last time before following them around. With Shakti showing around, it would be easier to escape the tour when she felt like it.

“Wha… But… Is this….” Ajabdeh smiled wide-eyed as the wind played with her locks. Pratap locked his car and led her through the iron gates.

Maharana Pratap Memorial Cenotaph

Bandroli, Chavand

“Are you trying to impress me, Princy?” Ajabdeh raised her brows doubtfully.

“See... this is why I was thinking twice before…” he shook his head.

“No, no, I'm joking! But… whoa, this is so so weird.” Ajabdeh laughed a rather awkward laugh.

“No, we just happen to be uncannily alike.” He shook his head. “Come, there is a small function waiting for us here.”

The white, narrow, long road through the lake at Bandroli was windy and pleasant at the same time as Ajabdeh spotted the cenotaph in all white, dressed with golden marigold strands, in the middle of the lake. Walking towards it, she spotted a few people, foreign tourists, passers-by, some officials, and locals. She frowned, a little clueless.

“The man in blue is the representative from the Udaipur Royals; he has come on our invitation,” Pratap whispered before walking up to the man and shaking his hand.

“Kunwar Pratap.” The man smiled.

“Mr Rathore.” He acknowledged,  “Thank you for coming.”

“Kaise baat kar rahe hai, kabhi aj tak miss kiya kya humne aj ka din?” The man smiled and stared at a clueless Ajabdeh, looking at the cenotaph dressed with drapes and garlands, awestruck.

“Umm Ajabdeh,” Pratap called softly, prompting her to walk up to him with a smile.

“This is Mr Rathore, the representative from the city palace. Mr Rathore, she is ... umm....a family friend.” Pratap introduced.

“Miss Punwar.” Mr Rathore smiled. “Khamma Ghani.”

“Gani dhamma.” Ajabdeh said a little clueless, “Sorry, do I know you?”

“Umm, maybe not, I'm a brother to a certain Toranmal you might know….”

“Tota… umm… oh yes he was a classmate…” Ajabdeh shook her head as Pratap frowned at the awkward smiles.

“Well, I'm sure there is more to that one?” Pratap asked the duo as they shared a glance.

“Miss Punwar punched my brother right in the hospital bed when they were in school.” Mr Rathore chuckled a little. “I'm sure even today he will remember her.”

Pratap looked a little taken aback as Ajabdeh smiled an innocent smile.

“Hukum.” One of the locals interrupted. “It's time.”

“Haan.. please… Mr Rathore come…” Pratap led everyone to the cenotaph in the middle as the persons in waiting got a lamp ready to be lit.

“ Sabko humari taraf se khamma ghani.” Pratap addressed everyone. “Hum aj yaha aye hai, unko yaad karne jinke liye aj shayed pura mewar garv se jeeta hai."

“It is the death anniversary of Maharana Pratap Singh of Mewar. He sustained hunting injuries on the 19^th of January 1597 and died on the 19^th.” He explained to the group of eager foreigners who were present in the crowd. 

“Every year we light a lamp at his feet, hoping that he lights us with all the inspiration he provides, and this year is special.” He smiled as Mr Rathore stood scrutinising Ajabdeh, smiling at him.

“This year, the lamp will be lit not by me, but by my friend here, who idolises the man.” 
Ajabdeh said a soft “No, No” as he gave her the candle. 

“Come on!”

“Why me?” She whispered with an awkward smile.

“Why not you?” He smiled back.

“I haven’t done this before.” She seemed clueless.

“There is a first time for everything, Ajab!” He smiled. "You taught me that!"

“I… I….” She was looking for an excuse when he gave the candle in her hand, holding her hand in his and lit the lamp at the Cenotaph.

“There.” He smiled. “He will be happy his friend did it,” made Ajabdeh smile.

“And I thought I was the only crazy one, Pratap.” She smiled to herself as she saw him handing over the candles and went to distribute sweets and clothes to the locals.

“Kunwarsa arranges this every year.” Mr Rathore’s voice made her turn.

“He comes here, avoiding the limelight at the gala events taking place in Udaipur. He loves Chavand the way someone else did,” he smiled. "I have known him since childhood. I was their estate manager once. I have never seen a royal like him."

“But…” Ajabdeh frowned “Why is this not a tourist spot…”

“Miss Punwar.” Mr Rathore smiled. “Everyone sees the gala magnitude of events, how much is spent, who is called, what they are saying on national TV. Very few, rare ones, understand and respect the essence like him.” Ajabdeh followed his gaze to Pratap, touching the feet of an old lady who blessed him.

“He, unlike others, doesn’t need a clear image in the papers and magazines. He doesn’t work for glory. He works for his people and loves it. He lives by the morals this man left behind. But the sad truth is neither his family nor society sees him for it.” Mr Rathore stopped to see Ajabdeh smile at the sight as he walked away, “Chalte hai.”

Ajabdeh stood there in the windy cenotaph as, strangely enough, all the wind couldn’t blow out the lamp at the memorial. She looked around and tried to sink into the view and breath. She closed her eyes as something felt heavy in her heart.

“Ajab!” Pratap’s call made her open her eyes and look at him, waving at her, “Come help me distribute sweets?”

“Should I?” She looked awkward.
"Yes." He walked up to her with the box, "Ranima always tells us to give to the poor, their blessings nurture our future! It is needed for our sinful lives, don't you think?" He made her laugh as she walked towards the children who flocked around her as the lady in waiting helped her distribute some chocolates.

To be frank, the pampered Ajabdeh Punwar had never bothered to visit even a Charity fashion show, let alone a whole needy village full of people. Although she was always kind to the needy around her, loved kids, and was not a posh girl who flared her nose at beggars, she never saw someone with such a high social status as Pratap do what he was doing.

The Playboy… Spoilt… Womaniser today seemed to disappear in the image of a Generous Heart that stood before her. She couldn’t help but wonder why the press didn’t see this side, or why he never bothered to show this to anyone. It seemed like this world of his was so different from the other one, and he had chosen to keep it that way. Today, Ajabdeh’s heart sought genuine answers from the friend she had made a few days ago and was frankly proud of now.

“Baba, I need to go…” Heer spoke to her father softly as Shakti turned around.

“Did I bore you so much that you are leaving?” His words made her feel awkward.

“ No Kunwarsa I…” Heer started making him smile.

“It’s okay, I was just pulling your leg, Heer.”

“Driver.” He called as Ramrakh was about to speak. “Please drop them at the cottage, I should leave. Have a good day, Uncle…Heer.” He nodded and smiled before leading them to the cars.

“Actually I… umm…" Heer stopped awkwardly.

“If you want to go somewhere else, the driver will drop you.” He smiled at her as she nodded. Ramrakh got into the car as Shakti held the door open for Heer.

“But actually…” Her soft voice seemed awkward.

“Ji?” Shakti met her worried gaze with a frown.

“Jija isn't picking up my calls, her phone seems unreachable now… It's been a while...”

“I will call Dadabhai and let you know, don’t worry.” He smiled, putting her worries to rest as she stepped into the car.

“Where did you go, Dadabhai?” Shakti shook his head dialling the number in vain.

“Waise…” He stopped checking the date and smiled. 
“Wow, he took her… there?” Shakti stood watching the car drive away with a silly smile on his face before he realised his stomach was growling with hunger. He wanted to tell Ranima this!

Pratap sat down on the side of the Cenotaph as the crowd and guests had cleared away. The lamp still flickered as he spotted Ajabdeh on one of the jharokhas on the right side. Her braid was undone, she had taken off the heavy jhumkas she wore, and the wind played with her hair, making her smile.

“Happy?” He walked up behind her.

“Not unless you answer my questions!” She smirked.

“First, you, come sit.” They sat together on the porch of the Jharokha and stared at the flickering lamp.

“The tattoo…” Ajabdeh began “symbolises the free spirit. I want to be a free spirit…. I want freedom in every aspect… and the black and white symbolises good and bad… we all have both sides in us, it's what we choose that defines who we are.”

“Wow, Miss Writer!” He made her smile. “But how much more freedom do you need?”

“Well, Pratap…”

“It sounds so weird.” He interrupted.

“What?” she frowned.

“Pratap… from your mouth.” He shrugged, making her laugh.

“Okay, where was I?”

“Freedom.”

“Haan… kaha hai freedom? Yaha yeh log want to marry me off, cage me, trap me, and make me want to live an ideal life….”

“ You are making marriage sound like a jail.” Pratap chuckled. “I take it more as throwing me off a cliff and expecting me to hold on… they hold my hand, smile and let go… sheer case of cold-blooded murder!”

“Tell me what you think.” Pratap turned to see her address the cenotaph, “What was marriage to you?”

“A Battle,” Pratap answered as she looked confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Locals say he fought for his choice…for Love.” Pratap shrugged.

“Umm... Tell me something. Why is this your “it” place?” She smiled as she sat back beside him.

“Actually, I…”

“And what was that you chose not to say?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. 

“Ajab. Hush. Let me speak.” He laughed as she acted angry.

“I come here whenever I need to make decisions. Unlike you, he is not my friend, nor do I talk to him; I just go through my own thoughts aloud and make decisions.”

“Did you decide on the development of Surajgarh through the Heritage Hotel here too?”

“Yes, I did.” He smiled, "Of course. The peace and quiet of this place... make you... feel your soul."

“He will be very happy. With what you are doing....” She smiled. He nodded and smiled back at her.
"What are you saying, Miss Punwar! Don't forget I have a bad side too!" He chuckled.
"But your good side is greater." She smiled. "I'm glad I saw this!"
"Surprised?" He raised his brows.
"A little." She admitted. "Were you?"
"Honestly, yes, seeing you up there at Moti Magri, I was like... I am not the only crazy one, thank god!" They shared a good laugh.
"But let's keep this a secret!" He warned as she gestured to zip her lips.
"I know! It is about our public image after all!"

Heer chose her book and a corner seat as she frowned at the new piece of paper in the book instead of hers. Reading it, she smiled. A Laxman fan? Or a Male Chauvinist? Taking out a paper from her diary, she searched the bag for a pen.

“What had Urmila done to suffer such pain? Hadn’t she been perfect as a wife, daughter and sister? Why did she need to suffer for fourteen years or more because of others? Wasn’t karma watching? Laxman was a good brother, a great son, yes. But Husband? Was he a good husband? What, in fact, is the definition of a good husband? He ignored his responsibilities to take her with him, be with her and protect her. Were any of the brothers good husbands? One refused to take his ardhangini with him, and the other questioned her chastity. Society had always been so cruel to women who raised their voices, individuality and strong selves. Why?” She put the paper, replacing the other one she tugged in her bag and began reading, hoping the stranger found it this time around and answered too. In a way, she was pleased with someone actually taking up the pain to write back to her thoughts, and even countering them.

“And the thing you chose not to say....” Ajabdeh stopped Pratap from getting up.

“You will take it wrongly, so leave it.” He looked away.

“No, I won't, I promise, please say.”

“I had promised myself that once I decide to spend the rest of my life with someone, I will bring her here…” he stopped as Ajabdeh looked up at his face, a little wide-eyed. “But since you trusted me with your place, I thought it would be fair if I brought you here today... ”

“Aree it's okay, darling! I am sure you will also find her someday and bring her here.” Ajabdeh patted his back like consoling making him frown at her.

“I don't want anyone.” He shook his head. "Anymore."

“Why do you smell like a Devdas story to me?” Ajabdeh frowned, making him smile.

“What was that Tota thing… ?” He asked, changing the topic.

“Toranmal. Proposed me.” She shrugged with an awkward smile.

“And you hit him?” He raised his brows at the girl beside him.

“Yup, obviously!” Her serious tone made him laugh. 
“I am sure nobody dared to after that?” Pratap laughed.

“Right on the spot.” She smirked. “I would have broken their lusty bones!”
"You never had a boyfriend?" He frowned "That's weird."
"Boyfriend? I call them fleeting flings. I have had many. Love? Nah, not made for all that drama!" She brushed her hair off her shoulder and smiled.
"Ahh... I call them girlfriends... a variety of them! I wonder what happened to many.... some were classmates, some party animals, never a friend." He thought aloud.
"Love?" She smirked.

“ Nobody made me believe in the word." He shook his head. "The Devdas story isn't mine, sorry to disappoint you, it's someone else.” He closed in to sit closer to her with a smile.

“What? Who?” made him shrug as Ajabdeh frowned.

“You said we will get to know each other slowly, Madam! What's the hurry?”

“Great!” She slapped his arm and stood up. “I will get to know you sooner or later anyway.”

“Don’t fall for the spoilt rich princy Ajab.” He smirked. "You are quite impressed today!"

“Hah! You Wish!" 
“No, I Don’t!” He shook his head, “At all!”

"I don't fall for people; they fall for me! I just break hearts!” She smirked back, "Be careful!"
" I don't have a heart you can break, Darling! So two heartbreakers can be good friends apparently?" He smiled.

“I am glad to befriend the genuinely generous Princy today.” She held out her hand, standing up as he stood to face her.
“Pratap Singh, I am Ajabdeh Punwar. Pleased to meet the other you!”

“Pleased to meet you too!” 
He gave his hand in hers for a shake as eyes met, and smiled, and a sudden gust of wind blew the poinciana leaves around. None of them noticed a silent Lamp flicker with blessings.