Rendezvous

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 hours' drive from Udaipur, one could surely feel they had 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 understand and remember anything, if at all. The big temple that stood right outside the village had a large green meadow that attracted her attention. She suddenly felt goosebumps as she managed in a fumbling voice, “S...st...stop!”

“What happened, Hukum?” Chundawat asked, slamming the brakes.

“Can we get down here?” Ajabdeh asked.

“Surely, Baisa Hukum. But would you like to go and freshen up before...” He insisted.

“No, I want to see this... umm... temple.”

“As you wish.” Chundawat parked the car at the broken gate of the temple, grabbing the attention of a few people on the road.

“What is this place?” she tried to sound indifferent, getting inside the premises full of smaller temples, in ruins, with a large temple in the middle, and meadows on both sides of it. 

The background of the temple premises had thick forest-like vegetation and tall trees, the leaves of which rustled in the wind.

“This is a very old temple, Baisa Hukum. The Hara Gauri Temple. Villagers pray in the mornings, but otherwise, this place is quite serene and secluded, except on special days. You want to take a look?”

“I would like to.” Ajabdeh walked towards the temple, as Chundawat followed. The sound of music and song attracted her attention to the crowd gathered beneath a large tree on the front lawn.

“It is your lucky day, Baisa Hukum. You arrive here and look, Meera Guruma is singing to the devotees here, and your mother keeps coming to see her. She reveals all kinds of mysteries of the universe to people at such gatherings. Come; let me introduce you to her.” Nodding unsure, Ajabdeh was quick to put the dupatta over her head and walk towards the crowd. Seeing them, the crowd parted, bowing to her, while the lady in front sat eyes closed, in a saffron sari; one hand on her lap and another on the Toombi, singing praises of love. Chundawatji gestured at her to wait at the Guruma’s feet. She sat down on the grass, under the hot sun, a little awkward at the newfound respect around her as people bowed.

Pratap was examining the statues of the god and his wife, the goddess, inside the temple. He wasn’t ready to believe that they were, in fact, a thousand years old. Not that he was an atheist; he was more of a scientific believer. A group of children were playing inside the temple; their parents had perhaps come to the gathering. One child came running to the others and said in between his gasping breaths, “She is here! She is here!”

“Who?” the children frowned.

“Rajkunwarisa.”

Pratap had turned at their words and watched the children run towards the crowd. With slow, measured steps, he came to stand at a point from where the crowd was clearly visible. He saw that Meera had stopped singing and opened her eyes. He then walked away towards the meadows. Never was he interested in such crowded gatherings.

So mesmerised was Ajabdeh by her voice and the pain of separation the song spoke of, that she was still staring at Meera’s calm face with a few teary eyes, not realising that she was smiling right at her.

“You must be her.” Her voice startled Ajabdeh out of the enchanted state, and she promptly touched her feet.

“You are here.” Meera had cupped her face with her stone-cold hands.”The winds are changing.” She stared at the clueless girl.

“I see you are here to look for answers, my child.” Ajabdeh nodded at her words, “But do you know what you are looking for? Do you know the questions?” Ajabdeh shook her head.

“How will you find love if you don’t look for the beloved? How will you find Him?” Meera’s smile had faded. She looked restless.

“Him?” it came almost like a whisper from Ajabdeh’s voice.

“He who is your God, you look for him in everything, don’t you?” Meera Ma’s eyes looked so familiar that Ajabdeh couldn’t take her eyes off them. “Doesn’t your soul seek love, or can’t you understand the language of your soul yet?”

“I... don’t....” Ajabdeh had stopped at Chundawat Ji's hand gesture as Meera Ma closed her eyes and started singing again. Ajabdeh dragged herself away from the enchanted voice and from the crowd and slipped away towards the meadows that attracted her attention first. Chundawat got up to follow, but she stopped him with a gesture of her hand.

“This is... it.” She stared around the meadow. Then, closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and she could hear her heart pounding. She remembered the dream and the drawing. A horse, a stable? She looked around. There was nothing.

“Excuse me.” Pratap had sat on his knees to tie his shoelaces when a figure shadowed the sunlight in front of him. He looked up at her face, shaded from the sun, while the beams seemed to play hide and seek through her thick locks.

Ajabdeh was unsure of what she was doing, yet in this village full of what her friends would term “Dehati”, she had found this man in the corner of the meadow, the only one perhaps without the Pagdi and Nagrais and angrakha, and strange jewellery. Maybe she could ask him. Without a thought, she was here. When he looked up, the first thing Ajabdeh noticed was his dark brown eyes, which shone as bright as the sunlight on his skin. He looked a little tanned, perhaps because he travelled, and he was tying his shoelaces.

“How can I help you?” Ajabdeh felt awkward at his words as he got up from sitting on one knee and stood up tall in front of her. She couldn’t help but notice his tall figure and well-built, broad shoulders now. “How can I help you?” He frowned at her now. His accent said he wasn’t from here, or at least stayed a good amount of time in the city like her.

“I... can you tell me... umm... where do I find a horse?” She was shocked that he looked amused. He even chuckled a bit. It was rude, and it made her feel stupid, but it came as a reflex from him.

“I suppose they have one at the palace. This is a temple. And I don’t think temples have horses.” Was he trying to mock her? Ajabdeh fumed.

“I didn’t mean... I meant...anyway... leave it...” She decided to leave as he stood, crossing his hands over his chest. “Why is the princess looking for a horse outside the palace?” She stopped at his words. “I am sorry, it just amused me.”

“You know I am the Princess?” She frowned.

“Everyone knows.” He shrugged.

“But... but you didn’t bow.” She asked, surprised.

“Because I believe respect should be earned, not implied.” He smiled faintly as Ajabdeh nodded, a bit relieved. She was here for the past hour with every pair of eyes looking at her like she was a goddess, and finally, she had found one to treat her like the human she was.

“So ... what do you do?” She was in her voice of authority, and this time Pratap put up a straight face when he said, “I teach horse riding in Jodhpur.”

“Oh, you are not from here then?” She frowned at his silence.

“I was. My father has a riding school there.”

“Can you teach me too?” Pratap stared at her, rather shocked; whether it was because he didn’t expect such an offer or because she trusted strangers so easily, he couldn’t tell.

 “You want to learn to ride?” He asked monotonously.

“Is a month enough? Ajabdeh had thought a bit, “Can you teach me?”

“Even a week is enough if you really want to learn.” He reassured.

“Great, then, meet me at the palace at 6AM tomorrow, and we can start.” She managed a smile.

 “How much do I get paid?” He asked in the most professional tone he could find.

“We will discuss that once you are there.” She smiled, “That is okay with you?”

“But... umm... we just met... and ...” He looked confused.

“So? You know horse riding, right?” Ajabdeh stared at him in suspicion.

“Of course, I do. Why will I lie? What I meant was we just met, and you didn’t even ask my name...” He looked at her, a little annoyed.

“It is not like I am here to make friends, Mr Rider. So I don’t have anything to do with your name, where you stay or your biodata. I am not even going to stay here. So if you actually didn’t lie, just teach me.” Her voice showed a hint of arrogance that annoyed Pratap.

“I will be there, first thing tomorrow.” He nodded in the most professional tone he could find.

“Good!” Ajabdeh had walked away most gracefully and confidently as he had ever seen. Pratap clenched his jaw, watching her go.

“You royals, so stubborn and full of false pride.” He sighed and walked away towards Meera, who had just dispersed the crowd.

“What’s the harm, Pratap?” Meera smiled, “You can teach her.”

“I don’t know Badimaasa. She seemed stubborn, and I lied that I am a horse rider.” Pratap shook his head, “I never lie.”

“Well, you didn’t lie entirely, and once you meet her tomorrow, tell her the whole truth.” Meera spoke, “I am sure she will have no issues getting lessons from you.”

 “And what about Daata? What if she asks? Do I tell her he worked for them, then they...”

“My child, she did not even ask you your name. This girl... is different. She won’t judge you for anything more than what she sees. Trust me and go there.” Meera smiled faintly, “Be her guide.”

“As you say, Badima.” Pratap nodded, reluctantly.

“So you have already fixed a tutor for riding lessons?” Chundawatji was shocked “You could just tell me to arrange one for you, Hukum.”

“It’s fine, he will be here tomorrow.” Ajabdeh inspected her guest room and walked out on the corridor that led to the staircase down to the hall.

“Who is he?” Chundawat asked curiously, following her around.

“I don’t know.” Ajabdeh shrugged, looking around the magnificent palace.

“Where does he stay?” He frowned.

“Jodhpur, I guess” Ajabdeh inspected an antique in the hall and kept it back carefully.

“You guess? Where is he staying here?” Chundawatji frowned.

“I don’t know that either. You can ask him all your questions tomorrow.” Ajabdeh turned to face him.

“Hukum, if I may, you being the heiress to the estate, it is not safe to trust anyone just because they...” He was polite with his words.

“Was there a horse stable near the temple Chundawatji?” She had interrupted his words. He frowned.

“Not that I know of Hukum.” He shook his head.

“I want to visit the stable of the estate first thing tomorrow.” Ajabdeh spoke firmly, “Now I would like to rest.”

“As you wish, Hukum.” Chundawat had bowed and left. “Goodnight.”