RAABTA

On the anniversary of the battle of Haldighati, I can't help but wonder what war did and meant for all those waiting for the soldiers to return home. So, after almost four years, here's presenting Praja, and how they have always been.  Rainy Season, 1633 Vikram Samvat. The palace of Avadgarh was eerily silent with the fear of impending doom. Nobody spoke of it, but everyone was aware of it, in their own silences and gloomy exchanges. The unspoken, uncertain future was here in reality now. She had never felt this unsure before when he had been at war. Something was not right that day. What was happening? How could she know? Was it the weather that made her feel suffocated? The sun too had failed to illuminate the room even when it was already an hour into the day. The clouds above Avadgarh were whirling grey, much like the state of her restless mind. These were signs of impending rain over the Aravallis. She had known these signs ever since the first time she had stepped into Ku