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Reflection



“What’s the occasion, Bhaiya?” Patta asked as Pratap offered him some sweets from the temple.
“It’s... my mother’s death anniversary today.” He said nonchalantly. “I usually go to the Chamunda Devi Temple at Jodhpur each year, but this year Badima took me to the Hara Gauri Temple in the village.”
“I am sorry...” Patta spoke taking the sweet “I also miss my father...”
Pratap nodded in silence, giving him a caring pat on his shoulder. The sound of footsteps behind them made Patta rush on with his work of cleaning while Pratap saw the figure approach him with a smile and her smile faded into a question, seeing the sweets in his hand.
“It’s my mother’s death anniversary today so... I went to the temple.” He said as he placed a bit of the blessing on her palm. He then turned to go about his work and take Chetak out while she waited by the fences. Ajabdeh patted Chetak with a smile as he put on the saddle.
She got up on his back, as Pratap held her hand, firmly, and let go as soon as she held the reign.
“You will ride alone, for the first time.” He said.
“But... “She sounded scared.
“Don’t worry.” He shook his head. “I will be close by.” She stared at him, at this, as he looked away whistling at Patta. In a moment, Patta arrived from behind the barn, with a black horse, Ajabdeh frowned.
“Who is this Black Beauty?” Ajabdeh asked raising her eyebrows at Patta.
“He is mine.” Patta patted him “Bhaiya said we need him.”
“You could use one of the horses in the...” Ajabdeh stopped as he shook his head.
“Those are only for the royal family.” He said plainly “Come let’s go. What’s his name Patta?”
“Sarang.” Patta flaunted proudly. Pratap held his reign, letting go of Chetak’s and Chetak stepped back two feet making Ajabdeh a little pale. She was all by herself. Seeing the way she reacted Pratap took a rope and tied Chetak’s reign to Sarang’s.
“Here.” He said, “Just in case...”
“Can I do it?” Ajabdeh asked a little unsure.
“You can do anything you want to.” Pratap smiled faintly at her “You are that stubborn.”
“Stubborn?” She frowned watching him get up on the horse with ease.
“In a good way.” He was quick to add. “In a positive way.”

She wasn’t convinced but Pratap shook both the reigns making the horses walk side by side. Ajabdeh held Chetak’s reign and took a deep breath. “This is it, Chetak. You and me.”
Pratap saw her nervous face and smiled a little. They were nearly across half the meadow when he slowly let go of Chetak’s reign, without letting Ajabdeh know. Chetak walked across the meadow, leaving him on Sarang a little behind. In a moment, as soon as he fell behind, Ajabdeh looked alarmed and turned with a helpless frown.
“Pratap?” Her voice was unsure.
“I am here.” He shook his head “You are doing fine.”
“Just be by my side.” She almost scolded him. Pratap smiled a little amused.
“I had no idea you could be this shaken.” He shook his head.
“It is not amusing.” She snapped.
“Sorry.” He said eyeing her through the corner of his eyes. Her highlights were of the exact same colour as Chetak’s mane and perhaps for the first time, he had noticed that.
“What?” He was caught off guard staring at her. Looking away he felt embarrassed. Ajabdeh smiled “What?”
“Your... umm....” He shook his head.
“Tell me.” She narrowed her eyes.
“Your highlights are...  of the same colour as his mane...” He said almost sheepishly.
“Oh, and my hair is the same brown as your eyes.” As soon as she said it, Pratap looked a little startled his eyes widened a bit.
“Umm... I guess.” He almost murmured as Ajabdeh looked away.
“By the way, Pratap.” She said when they reached the other side of the meadow where the orchards began. “Happy Birthday.” He looked up at her words. For the first time in decades, he had heard these words. Suddenly his heart was filled with a rush of warmth. “...Thank You... I really don’t...”
“You should always remember the good things. I am sure your mother would like that too.” She said suggestively. “I am sure she will like you to remember this day for yourself.”
“I never really celebrated birthdays.” He said in a soft voice with a hint of sadness “Daata used to be majorly upset on this day. In fact, he is even today; I called him in the morning. And it was Badima who made Kheer, which too stopped once I left.” He stared at her looking at him, perhaps shocked. “She made some this morning.”
“I had these lavishing birthday parties at Nanosa’s place. People came. Media hovered. Heer was there, with Maasa, but I never felt my being was actually being celebrated. It was more of the Punwar family showing the world their care for their heiress.”
“I...” Pratap started as she snapped “It’s okay. It’s your day today. We should celebrate.”
“What?” Pratap asked a little taken aback. “I don’t...”
“You didn’t. Now you will. Because you are a friend of Ajabdeh Punwar. And she of all people is extremely glad that you exist.” She shrugged with a slight hint of laughter in her voice.
“I have to go home.” He said shaking his head slightly “I have to take flowers for Maasa’s picture and...”
“Okay, we will go and then we will celebrate.” She said thinking “Besides I am free today.”
“But... you... I mean...” Pratap looked restless.
“Go home, once the lessons are over, I will be there in an hour, and then we will plan a day.” She had totally dismissed the idea that he could refuse. “And don’t worry, no one will see me. I remember the rules...” She had smiled at him and turned Chetak almost instinctively. Her eyes widened at her right move and she smiled excitedly at Pratap who had noticed the same.
“Look! I turned Chetak! I did it.” She said in a voice louder than usual as Chetak neighed happily.
Sarang responded with a neigh as Ajabdeh looked more amused “Oho, look who is bonding!” But Ajabdeh didn’t know how to make Chetak go straight. He went around in a circle, as Sarang followed, in a small circle, and the horses were head to head.
“Oh no. Oh No! Go that way. Listen to me.” Ajabdeh looked puzzled as Pratap let out a chuckle.
“Seems like we need more practice.” He shook his head, pulling Chetak’s reign the right way, as they strolled back to the barn.

Pratap was home to find Meera busy making garlands, while an old black and white framed picture of his mother, probably when she was a young bride, was neatly kept on a stool.
“Look what I found, Ladesar.” Meera smiled as he parked his bike. “You can use this picture more than the one you carry in your wallet.” She saw him walk up to the frame and hold it up in both hands. “It’s too small.”
“I never saw this one, Badima” His hand traced the dupatta on her head, her mang tika, bindi, kajal-clad eyes, and the Nath on her nose. “She looks so pretty.”
“She was...” Meera smiled “When I went to see her she was this small.” She had extended her hand to show a height “But the way she managed the house, I was always aloof...” Pratap stared at the picture admiringly.
“She would have loved you more than I do.” Meera sighed “She told me, I will have a boy, I can feel that.”
“She named me, didn’t she?” He asked suddenly feeling a little empty.
“Yes. She had the names fixed long back. Pratap, for a boy and Padmini, if it’s a girl.” Meera smiled. “I still remember the first time I held you, in my arms, right in that room.” She looked at him in admiration. “You stopped crying. And your mother said he is yours.” Pratap walked up to Badima and sat down on his knees before her, his eyes twinkling. She patted his head, and smiled “How you have grown!”
“Oh, Badima.”  Pratap hugged her tightly. The sound of the high gates made them look out at the courtyard as a figure, walked in, in a lehenga and a pair of sneakers. Meera frowned while colour flushed out of Pratap’s face as he remembered the lehenga.
“Did I miss something?” She asked raising the dupatta over her head. Meera smiled at Ajabdeh and eyed Pratap.
“Rajkunwarisa,” She said holding the girl’s hand in hers “What a surprise.” Ajabdeh shot a glance at her words to Pratap who looked away.
“I assume you were not told I am coming Guruma.” She touched Meera’s feet promptly “I just couldn’t resist the chance of missing out on your Kheer.”
“Yes of course Rajkunwarisa.” Meera smiled cupping her face and frowned a little “But what is this you are wearing?” Ajabdeh stared at her clothes and back at Meera as Pratap was quick to go inside.
“I bought this.” She smiled at Meera who shook her head. “Trying to look a little more native!”
“You could have told me, I have better ones, kept new in my closet.” Pratap frowned at Meera’s words. “Come, I will give you one. Oh, I also have some jewellery; the lehenga looks incomplete without some...”
“Guruma, I think I am fine. I am just here to have Kheer. And then take this nephew of yours somewhere.” She said loud enough making Pratap frown at her words.
“Then you must try one of those lehengas.” Meera pulled her by the hand and into the other room, as Pratap looked busy making the garland that Meera left half done. “I insist.” Meera spoke, “Besides, these lehenga and jewellery are of no use to this house until Pratap decides on bringing home a bride.” Ajabdeh looked at Meera a little red at her words, hoping she would not notice that. Meera opened her cupboard and took out a few clothes and a wooden box.
“This belonged to Pratap’s mother.” She said opening the wooden box making Ajabdeh stare at her in surprise. “I am sure she would have loved it if you wore these.”
“But Guruma, I... can’t.” Ajabdeh almost murmured. “Oh, I insist you should.” Meera turned a deaf ear to her words.

Pratap had turned hearing the wooden door of the room crack open. And his heart had skipped a beat. He couldn’t help staring. Ajabdeh wore a very gaudy lehenga, in yellow and red, which he recognised from pictures of his mother, he had, back in Jodhpur. And the mang tika and necklace were the same as the picture, placed on the stool. Her hair was neatly braided, and fell back on her waist, as the semi-transparent dupatta was neatly pinned. A small Nath hung from her sharp nose, and her eyes were highlighted with kajal. Ajabdeh looked up at him, staring surprised at her, and gulped. Her heart raced and a sudden nervous feeling took over like she found it hard to stand without shivering. She looked up, at him, hoping badly that her cheeks were not red, but he wasn’t even noticing, for his eyes, were fixed, on hers. She looked away, just a little, hoping he would remove his eyes off her, but he didn’t. Almost like a trance, forgetting where they stood, who they were, and everything else around him, Pratap’s eyes were fixed on hers. She looked up again, this time, staring into his deep brown eyes, with hers.
“You made the garland?” They looked away in a reflex as Meera stepped in. “Good.”
“I...” Pratap held the garland, unsure.
“Let Rajkunwarisa do it.” Meera sat down holding her waist, just a little making them stare at her. “Let her put the garland, your mother will like that.”
They stared at each other briefly at these words. Ajabdeh stepped forward, before Pratap could utter another word, and took the garland from his hands. She walked over to the stool, sat down on her knees, and put the garland on the frame. Then she took the matchboxes lying just beside it and lit the lamp ready at the feet of the frame. She folded her hands and closed her eyes. Pratap inhaled. For a moment, he wished all this was a dream. For in front of him, he saw an exact reflection of everything he imagined his mother was, in flesh and blood. His fist tightened as he checked his emotions. He eyed Meera smiling at Ajabdeh as she came back with slow measured steps to her.
“I will get you some kheer,” Meera said getting up in a hurry.
Silence filled the room, as Pratap placed some loose flowers, left over from the garland by the frame. Ajabdeh stared at him doing that, and then her eyes fell on her own reflection in the frame, as he stared up at it, and at her.
“Thank you.” He stood up, his back to her and almost whispered. “This means a lot.” Ajabdeh smiled faintly and shook her head “Thank me at the end of the day. Right now, get ready and get your keys.” Ajabdeh searched her bag for something and then held it out for him.
“Here.” She said, “I couldn’t buy a gift so...”
“It was not needed.” He shook his head.
“Open it at least.” She frowned.
Opening the wrap, Pratap stared as he recognised the gift. It was a small wooden figure of a horse and a rider she had bought at the fair.
“But you bought this for yourself.” He said frowning.
“I figured it can remind you of me.” She shrugged “When I am gone.” Pratap’s heart skipped a beat as his hand tightened around the figure.
“I won’t forget you, ever.” His words were almost like a murmur that made her stare at him, as he looked up at her.
“Here is some Kheer.” Meera arrived with a bowl and Ajabdeh smiled like a child at it.
“I will go... change...” he said at no one in particular and walked out.
Shutting the door behind him, Pratap closed his eyes and inhaled. The image of her in front of his mother’s picture was not to leave him so soon. He felt a sudden helpless ache in his heart. He shook it off, putting on the shirt he found ironed. His hand stopped at the watch. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. For once, he wanted to forget who he was, and who she was. He wished he never knew in the first place. For once he wanted to spend every minute with her like an eternity. For once, he wished, scared to admit even to own self, that she was there, with him, forever, as a reflection of everything he ever wished for.

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