Dreams of a past

“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 feigned 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.