“What do you mean you left?” Ajabdeh’s
raised voice startled her butler, who was pouring juice while she talked on
her phone. “You didn’t even tell me.”
“We had a very important event in Delhi,
and ....” Hansa was trying to be calm on the other side of the speaker.”... We
have to head to London because...umm...”
“Listen, I don’t care. You can go wherever
you want; I just thought you would be here, in Udaipur, to see me after Nanosa’s
memorial services. I am busy anyway, so I called before fixing my schedule.”
Ajabdeh was about to disconnect the call when Heer’s voice stopped her. “Jija.
Listen.” Ajabdeh’s hand froze right above the red button as she stared at the
screen light up.
“I... have something to say...” Heer
cleared her throat.
“Don’t. She won’t understand, she will
never understand.” She could hear her father whisper.
“What is it?” Ajabdeh’s voice was firm. “Be
quick, Heer. I don’t have all the time in the world to...”
“Mr Solanki asked for my hand for his son
and...We are going to London because... because.... umm...”
“The business tycoon?” Ajabdeh’s eyebrows
were raised. “Congratulations.” Her monotonous voice was emotionless.
“I know you are upset about Nanosa and us
not involving you, but Jija....” Heer cleared her throat. “Maasa thought you
would be more upset and...” Ajabdeh smiled to herself. Relationships were never
on her priorities, unlike Heer. She knew Heer was emotional and attached to her
family, unlike her. Perhaps she even dreamt of marriage. It was important to
her. She was also the only one who tried to make Ajabdeh feel she was part of
the family.
“It is okay, Heer, you don’t need to
explain. I am busy anyway. I have some calls to make now. Goodbye and all the
best on your engagement.” Ajabdeh had hung up before Heer could speak and
gulped down the morning juice in one go.
Then she stared at the grandfather clock at the end of the hall. It was
ticking away. Her eyes lit up.
Around twenty years back, no one knew exactly
why, the older princess, heiress to the estate, was sent to Udaipur, to her
grandfather’s home, to be raised there. While many villagers believed that it
was for her safety, some believed there was some black magic that influenced
her, while others suggested that it was just a freighted excuse given for
providing her with a better lifestyle in the city. After all, her parents
wanted the best for her. But Heer was barely one and she of three when her
father, Ramrakh Punwar, made this decision, and Hansa had separated from her
elder daughter. And no one questioned the royals. That was the unsaid rule of
Surajgarh. Although they met every summer for vacations abroad, something told
everyone that this girl had distanced herself from her family. She never came
home or celebrated festivities with her family.
“The
royal family has left for a month. You come back once they are back from
London, what’s the hurry?” The royal guard was a lazy fellow who did not even
move an inch from his place when he stopped Pratap and his father at the gates.
Udai Singh sighed.
“I just wanted to inform them that we are
back here, in case...” his voice was like a murmur, and Pratap saw the guard
smile, amused “And how is your being here or not being here important to Raoji,
eh?” He let out a laugh, “Are you some important person?”
“I....” Udai Singh was about to speak.
“We are caretakers of horses.” Pratap’s
words made him stare at his son “They had called us for a job, that’s all.” He
had turned to his father, “Come now, Daata, let’s go home. They are not here.”
“But we cannot stay here without their permission.”
Udai had almost mumbled.
“Then you stay with your age-old views and
leave Daata. I am staying here with Badimaasa. Panwarmer is as much my home as
their estate.” Pratap’s eyes shone in fury “Twenty years back, they took away
your job and asked you to leave, but you never asked them why. Now, you have to ask
them to come back home. Why?”
“Because they are our anyadaata Hokum. You
won’t understand.” Udai Singh shook his head. “We will come back in a month. Let’s leave for Jodhpur tomorrow.”
“I am not leaving. Not until I have a valid
reason to do so, Daata. You can leave.” His words had made Udai Singh shake his
head in disapproval.
“Kasturi!” Ajabdeh had stopped her maid in
waiting from brushing her hair. “You were at Surajgarh last summer, right?”
“Ji Baisa Hukum.”
“Can you... whom do they inform when they
arrive home so that... umm... You know the house is ready and stuff?” She had
stared at the maid, thinking.
“Some Chundawatji. He is the manager, I
guess. Why Baisa Hukum?”
“Just asking.” Ajabdeh stared at her
reflection in the mirror. “Kasturi, I am going on a Himalayan retreat with some
friends tomorrow. Pack my bags, please?”
“Ji.”
“And all of you can take a month-long
holiday.”
Kasturi had stopped at her words, “A month,
Baisa?”
“Yes. It’s a long retreat plan.” She
smiled. “And also, I want this manager’s number. Maasa told me to ask him about
the estate from time to time.”
“Ji Baisa. I will arrange everything.”
“And also...” She had stopped the maid, “If
anyone calls because my phone is unreachable, tell them I'm in the mountains.
And...Get that car with Surajgarh’s emblem in the garage cleaned. My friends
want to see it.” Kasturi nodded and left.
“Guru
Maasa.” The knock on the door, late in the evening, made Pratap open it for
Badimaasa. His father had left in the afternoon, and he hadn’t talked since
then. He had heard Badima banter to herself about why he left suddenly. She now
peeked to see who was at the door. The man who stood there was in his late
thirties, well-built, and wearing an official formal shirt with the emblem of
Surajgarh on it.
“Chundawatji, padharo.” Her words made
Pratap move aside and make way for the man to enter. The man stared at him with
a questioning look.”He is my nephew.” Meera was quick, “He has come to stay with
me.”
Pratap had left them to talk and walked
across the threshold to the open courtyard. He had missed the chilly evenings
full of stars. He could still hear them speak clearly in the silence of the
evening.
“Rajkumarisa called. She is arriving
tomorrow.” Chundawat’s voice was a little restless.
“But Ranisa said Heer Baisa...” Meera
frowned.
“Not her. It’s Badi Rajkuwarisa.” The man’s
voice was lower than usual “I don’t know what to do, Guruma, she said, not to
inform her parents, and that’s an order.”
“Then do as she said, Chundawatji.” Meera
smiled, “The bird is finally coming back to its nest. This is the least you can
do.”
“As you say, Guruma.” He had bowed, walked
across the threshold, greeted Pratap, and left.
“Who is that?” Pratap asked as soon as he
shut the door behind him.
“Chundawatji, the manager of the estate.”
Meera sat down with her praying beads.
“Now what does he want?” Pratap frowned.
“Nothing, he was here to inform something.”
Meera stared at his questioning eyes and smiled, “Rajkunwarisa will be here.”
“So?” Pratap had sat down on the mat at her
feet and asked, “What can you do about it?”
“She said her parents shouldn’t know, and
Chundawat wasn’t sure...”
“But why?” Pratap frowned.
“I don’t know my child, but the parents
must have some reason to keep the child away for twenty years.” She smiled at Pratap.
He asked, surprised, “She hasn’t been home for
twenty years?”
“That’s right. She was sent off almost when
you left, I remember her.” Badi Ma’s words were fading “Beautiful soul, pretty
face, eyes full of hope, Ajabdeh... Time was waiting for you...”
Pratap was suddenly restless at Meera Ma’s
usual banter.
“Badimaasa, I just felt I had heard of her
somewhere before.” Pratap frowned at his own words.
“Oh, you must have! When your father worked
there, you accompanied him, didn’t you?” Meera had cupped his face as he
managed a smile. “Besides, they are always in the news...”
“I don’t remember...” Pratap frowned.
“I am sure you will remember when time
wants you to.”
“What are you saying?” He looked at her
smile, confused. “You sometimes make no sense to me.”
She had patted his head, “I am just an old
lady losing her head...”
That night, in his dreams, Pratap saw a
figure in a green meadow. He could hear the giggles of a child, and a butterfly
locket swung from this blurred figure’s neck. Pratap woke up sweating and
reached out for water in the darkness. The jug fell with a noise that startled
him, and made Meera come across to his room asking, “Are you alright?”
“Tell me, Badimaasa, did you know someone
who would perhaps... umm... wear that necklace you found that day?” He frowned.
“I don’t, dear, but do you?” Meera smiled at
him.
“I don’t know, is it possible that
something, in reality, merges with dreams?” Pratap frowned.
“Why not? Do you know what dreams are like?
They are exactly like the past. Both have no existence in the present, and they
are all in here.” Meera had tapped his forehead with her finger and smiled.
“Both are lies?” Pratap asked, wiping his
forehead.
“No, my dear, none are lies. Neither the
past nor the dreams. They just haunt you at times, that is all. And no matter
where we go or what we do, we cannot do away with either of them...” Meera
smiled with her voice trailing. “Now sleep.” She switched off the lights and
left. Pratap waited for her to go back to her bed and then opened his trunk.
From it, he took out the butterfly pendant and stared at it in the moonlight.
