The Gift

By On
The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the young man in front of him. He had just opened his shop, and the market wasn’t open yet. This young man seemed to have been waiting for a long time. He walked in as though he feared being seen and said in a rather low voice, “Do you have lehengas?” Now he was cluelessly inspecting three lehengas, not sure which one to choose.“First timer?” The shopkeeper asked, amused. He nodded. He wasn’t from this village but knew everyone around. He hadn’t seen this young man here before. He gathered that this man could be a traveller.
“I... Yes.”
“For your bride, I will suggest...”
“What?” The young man looked awkward “No, no, not my...”
“Sister?” “No.”
“Mother?” “I... no.”
“Then?” The man frowned.
“Friend. Pack this one.” He promptly picked up a pink and green one without much thought
“You must be from the city.” The man grumbled on his own, “Friend!” He packed the lehenga, took the money and watched the young man go.
Ajabdeh had been waiting for the bike for some time now. She kept peeping out of her window, from where the stable and lawn were visible. For a moment, she stood there lost in thought. The sound of the bike made her look at the back porch where it was being parked. She sneaked out, shutting her door behind her after telling the maid she would be napping. She ran towards the stable and stopped in front of the gate where he stood holding a packet. She snatched it from him in anticipation and opened the dress. Her eyes shone as she smiled, “This is so pretty. I have never worn such clothes before.” She frowned, seeing he was busy on the lookout for people and didn’t pay any attention to what she said.
“I am going into the barn and changing into this.” She smiled at him. “How much for it?”
“Don’t.” Pratap stopped her as she was about to take out her purse “It’s a gift.”
“A gift? What for?” She frowned.
“Just, for being my friend.” He smiled, “You considered me as a friend that is...”
“Thank you then, I will take this.” He nodded without looking her way as she went away.
“How do I look?” Her words made him turn as she stood there under the sun, in the lehenga, the dupatta in her hand. “I don’t know what to do with this.” She stared at him.
“It goes around, tucked to your waist.” He showed by pointing his finger.
“Here?” She asked, confused.
“There.” He pointed to the opposite side, “Then it goes over your head.”
“Here.” She threw the dupatta at his face “You do it.” Pratap’s eyes widened a little as he caught the dupatta in time before it hit his face and stared at her words.
“Help me!” She shrugged. A little reluctantly, he put the dupatta over her head, covering her face, the semi-transparent veil on her face as eyes met, and he looked away, carefully taking the other end around her, and stopping at her waist. Her eyes didn’t leave his face as he put the corner of the dupatta in her hand and said, “Here, tuck it in.”
“I can’t see anything.” She frowned, making him smile amusedly. “Stop laughing at me.”
“How did you see that then?” He asked, amused, raising his brows.
“I felt it.” Her eyes narrowed at him from behind the veil. “Let’s go.”
“Bike?” He asked suspiciously. “People can spot me easily.”
“What else can we do?” She shrugged, “We can’t take the cars.”
“I have an idea!” He smiled as she followed him, clueless. “I will be back.”
“Time for your first ride.” She turned to see Chetak coming out with him, in his reign and saddle, ready to go. “Get up, I will walk him to the mela, it is not far.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
He taught her to put one foot up on the footstool and sit on the saddle. She promptly held his rough hands with her soft ones for support and was on Chetak’s back. The moment Ajabdeh sat there, she felt like it was a view she had had before, perhaps in her dreams or imagination. She smiled in anticipation as Pratap pulled his reins and he started to walk slowly.
“Let’s see how fit he is,” Pratap remarked, patting his shiny coat of fur.
In about half an hour, they were at the grounds. “Listen, don’t wander here; you can get lost. Follow me.” Pratap stopped at her, not paying attention to his words.
“I want to try the merry-go... Ferrier’s wheel....oh sweets... Pratap, can we have some?” He stared at her indecisiveness as he tied Chetak carefully.
“Let’s go see what's there.” He pointed at a crowd gathered for a puppet show.
“I want to see that too!” She sounded excited.
“I am sure you do.” He shook his head. “But first, take my number and give me yours, in case you do get lost.”
She promptly handed him her phone and snatched his to type her number and save it with “Ajab.”
“Don’t you dare change it!” She warned, giving his phone back, “Let’s go.” He shook his head and followed.
After watching her go on the merry-go-round and taste jalebis, Pratap warned softly, “Be careful, this food won’t suit your health.”
“You think I am some poor pampered princess who doesn’t have immunity!?” She frowned.
“I never said that!” He frowned, “I was just warning you that...”
“Bhaiya?” They were alarmed at the familiar voice behind them. It was Patta with some of his friends grinning at them, “Who is she?”
“She is... umm... Badima’s guest.” Pratap fumbled with the lie as Ajabdeh watched him, amused, pressing her lips.
“Oh.” Patta looked at him with a suspicious grin “Enjoy the mela.”
“You too.” Pratap frowned as they watched him go.

It was almost four in the evening when Pratap tied a tired Chetak to his stable and gave him a pail of water. She came out of an empty stable in her usual clothes and the lehenga in her hand.
“I really enjoyed today.” She smiled.
“I am glad you did.” He smiled. “Tomorrow you can try riding Chetak with my guidance and...”
“Ummm... Pratap?” She sounded low as he turned to see her and asked with a worried “What’s wrong?”
The doctor inspected the princess in her bedroom as Chundawat, Patta, Pratap and the guards stood patiently outside the door and the maids inside.
“ I believe the water and food here aren’t suiting her.” The doctor told Chundawat, “There is nothing to worry about. I have prescribed medicines; she had also vomited twice, but it is fine.”
“What did you people serve her?” Chundawat was agitated at the clueless maids. “I told you no extra oily food in her diet.”
“We should leave. Call us if you need,” Patta spoke as Pratap agreed and offered him a ride back on his bike.

Once home, Meera came out on the porch to ask Pratap, rather restlessly, “What is wrong with her?”
“Oh, nothing, I guess the heat and junk...Ummm,” He stopped carefully “She is not accustomed to our food.”
“Poor thing”, Meera shook her head “I hope she is fine.”
“She is, don’t you worry, Badimaasa, I am hungry, give me dinner now.” His words made her smile.

After dinner, Pratap lay awake in his bed staring at the ceiling. He sighed. He was wrong. This Royal was not at all stubborn. She was so genuinely interested in being like the villagers. He smiled, remembering her enthusiasm. His phone rang, startling him as he grabbed it to answer quickly before Badimaasa woke up.
“Hello?”
“How rude are you!” He checked the caller's name in the voice and sounded surprised, “You? Are you okay?”
“Yes, but you should be calling and asking me rather than me telling you, how rude of you!” Her voice was disappointed.
“But... I asked the doctor!” He sat up with a frown.
“Is the doctor in pain or me? Is he your friend or me?” She sighed.
“I was going to ask tomorrow. Why did you have to call so late?” He asked, confused.
“Let it be Pratap, I will skip lessons tomorrow.” She sighed.
“Okay then.” He nodded.
“But you have to come! Help Patta.” She reminded him.
“I will.”
“Goodnight.” He heard her disconnect as he stared at the screen and sighed.
“I don’t get her at all.” He murmured to himself. 

Pratap lay on the bed, in the darkness, thinking about the happenings of the day and smiling to himself about it unknowingly.

Ajabdeh sat on her bed and sulked at her boredom. She searched her bag and took out the pair of earrings she had bought at the fair, careful enough not to wake up the maid waiting outside her chambers. She went across the room, tiptoeing to the mirror and put them on. Then, taking the dupatta of the lehenga from the cupboard, she placed it over her head and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Suddenly, the sight of his surprised glance at her in a lehenga made her smile to herself as she stared at her own reflection. Watching herself blush, her smile faded into a sudden fear. Ajabdeh Punwar didn’t do people, trust and relationships. She didn’t do dreams. She was firm on it. Was she changing her mind?



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