“Why are you going home so suddenly?” Mahek asked, suspiciously watching Roshni pack her bags. “We do have a project submission.”
“I know, and I will be back before it. It's just that I miss Maasa.” She insisted.
“You are lying.” Vamshika crossed her arms at her chest and spoke firmly, “I know you are lying. What happened? Are you sick? Did you have a fallout with the therapist?”
“A therapist? Why does she see a therapist?” Mahek gasped. “What is happening, Roshni?”
“Is Aunty sick?” Vamshika frowned. Roshni stopped packing and looked up at her concerned friends.
“I reassure you, everything is fine. I am having my anxiety medicines, and I am just going home for a few days. No, Maasa is not sick, and neither am I. I will be back soon.” She reassured them as she hugged them, “I will miss you two!”
Mahek helped her with the luggage and dropped her at the bus depot, where she boarded the bus “To Bundi”, and Mahek watched as the bus departed.
Roshni plugged in her headphones for the three and a half hour journey, hugging her backpack close to her chest as she looked out of the window and the bus rode into the highway. For the first time, she could hear her heartbeat. She was lying to everyone she knew and trusted. For what? She didn’t even know. All she knew was that a text in her phone said he would be waiting to pick her up at the bus stop. Halfway through the journey, when the bus stopped at a tea stall, for the first time, Roshni started having second thoughts. Wasn’t it stupid of her to trust a stranger, pack her bags and reach his doorstep? But something in her was curious. She wanted to know more of the dreams he spoke of. She remembered him approaching her and staring at her in their last two meetings; was he hitting on her? She brushed away the feeling. This was exactly the kind of work she had to do in the future. They were two professionals trying to piece together a story. This was her self-earned internship in the fieldwork and research she wanted to do.
When Roshni reached the bus stop in Bijoliya, the conductor helped her unload her suitcase as she picked up her backpack and watched the bus leave behind a cloud of dust. Once the dust settled in the busy bus depot, which doubled as a marketplace, she spotted him, sitting under a banyan tree, looking around for her. His eyes spotted her as he smiled and got up. Roshni walked across the street to greet him.
“Thank you for helping me with my research.” She noticed him looking at her luggage and she quickly added, “I will be done with the interview by evening and take the next bus home. My mother stays in Bundi. That way, if I have further research or queries, I can come back easily.” he nodded and offered to take her luggage as she refused. He had a cycle with him, which he unchained and looked around, hoping to find a rickshaw to take her home. Unfortunately, it was the day of Haat Bazaar, and he could find no empty rickshaws.
“It is okay,” Roshni said after waiting for a while. “We can walk.” He promptly took up her luggage and placed it on his cycle as he wheeled it between them, up the soiled roads leading to the houses. The town square was left behind, and a line of houses started to appear as the roads narrowed. He walked across them to a deserted road.
“Where are we going?” She asked, a little alarmed, “I thought the town was that.”
“Yes, but my family lives within the old fort walls.” They took a turn to their right, and Roshni gasped at the sight of the high brick walls and the narrow entranceway. Across the road from it was a complex of temples.
“I will take you there,” he reassured her as though he could read her mind. She followed him down the narrow lane, which had a few houses, painted in the same tint of blue, and he stopped the cycle in front of what looked like an old haveli. It was the last house before the massive gate and walls opened to a courtyard and palace where the royals lived. He knocked on the doorknob thrice. A lady in a white saree came up to the door and opened it.
“Maasa, this is Roshni, the girl I told you about.” Pratap was quick to explain as the woman smiled faintly at the girl.
“Oh yes, he told me you are researching Bijoliya. I am really happy someone remembers our forgotten history. Please come in.” The woman welcomed her warmly, and Roshni noticed how she had a mole on her nose exactly like the one she had on the right side of her nose. Roshni took her bags from Pratap and murmured an awkward thanks before she proceeded to take out her notebook, pens and recording device.
“Oh, you are in a hurry.” His mother smiled. “Let me get you something to eat first, and then we can start?”
“Thank you, aunty, but there is no need I…” Roshni resisted as she shook her head.
“We don’t have many guests around here, child. I insist. And please call me Hansa Mausi.” She gestured at the sofa as Roshni sat down and looked up at the woman again.
“Hansa mausi.” She spoke as though she had a deja vu of someone saying that. But it most definitely wasn’t her. “Please don’t worry. I will get this done with, visit the sites around here and return to Bundi by nightfall. My mother will be waiting…”
Hansa gasped, making her stop. She stared at Pratap, who by now had played a good host and offered her a glass of water.
“What is she saying, Pratap?” She said to her son, almost disapprovingly, “We can’t let her go after dark. She is travelling alone. It will be so irresponsible of us. What will her mother say?”
“Maasa, she is a grown-up and if she wants…” Pratap tried to reason as she shushed him.
“Do call your mother and tell her you are coming tomorrow. Don’t worry, we have plenty of empty rooms. Do stay. But first, let me get you something to eat.” Roshni protested in vain as Hansa hurried inside.
“I should have warned you.” Pratap sat down on a rattan seat facing her. “My mother loves guests, and she has none. I should have sensed this. I apologise.”
“No, it is okay.” Roshni shook her head. “She is very… familiar.” Roshni frowned at her own choice of words. Pratap looked up at her.
“It is okay if you want to leave. I will escort you to the bus depot, and she will understand.”
“No, it is fine, it is just another… my mother doesn’t know I am coming home. I lied.” He frowned at her words slightly as she was quick to add, “I didn’t want her to worry.”
Before he could say anything else, Hansa had called him inside, and Roshni was alone in the old room full of pictures and mementoes of the past. Her eyes fell on a picture above the doorway. It was a younger Hansa with her husband. Below it, in a black and white typewriter font, was written “Ram Rakh Punwar, Hansa Bai Punwar.” She started exploring the room without touching anything. Her eyes fell on the childhood pictures of Pratap on the lap of another woman. Then a picture of that woman holding an Ektara. She looked divine.
“That is my aunt.” She jolted at his words and turned a little embarrassed to find him with a tray of Puris in his hand. “Maasa will be here soon. Please help yourself.” He placed the tray down as she settled back in her seat. Hansa Bai walked in with tea and insisted she start eating. Roshni missed home-cooked food. And Hansa Mausi’s cooking was quite like her mother’s. She ate to her heart’s content, and Hansa Mausi escorted her to one of the guest rooms.
“Keep your things and freshen up, then Pratap will take you to the temples. Once you come back, I will be here for your questions and some pakora and tea.” Hansa Mausi smiled and left her to herself. Roshni walked across the room and opened the curtains as the magnificent view of the Palace of Bijoliya welcomed her. She could see some jharokhas, modified into windows and a few watch towers. Behind them was what remained of the old palace in ruins, a broken-down jharokha. She stared at it for some time, lost in thought, before bringing herself to take out a change of clothes and freshen up to visit the temples.
The Mandakini Kund was once the ritualistic spot for the royal ladies; now, only a shadow of its past glory remained in the stone. Pratap explained in a very professional fashion when and how it was built. Roshni removed her shoes and entered the shrine of Lord Shiva on the temple premises. She folded her hands and prayed for answers. She admitted that what she was doing was perhaps far-fetched and crazy. But something in her said it was the right thing to do. She glanced over her side to find Pratap standing beside her with his eyes closed and hands folded in prayer. His face was calm, and his breathing was regulated. Roshni’s throat felt dry, and she stepped back and turned to walk away. The eerie silence of the temple was interrupted by the sound of her anklet. Pratap opened his eyes, his lips parting a little as he looked up at the lord in disbelief and found his eyes moist. The sound of her anklet was fading as she stepped out of the temple premises, and Pratap sat down on his knees, gasping a little as though he had forgotten how to breathe, as he whispered, “Ajabdeh.”
Roshni sat down at the Mandakini Kund and looked up at the serenity around her. The wind suddenly turned gusty once in a while. She didn’t know how much time she had waited there for Pratap to emerge from the temple when she opened her notebook and started noting down whatever she saw and felt on the premises. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew in her ears, and it was as though someone called her.
Ajabdeh… Roshni jolted and turned around, and could see nobody around the premises. She could see Pratap in the distance putting on his shoes outside the temple. He looked a bit grim all of a sudden, and she tucked her open hair behind her ear and closed her copy as he approached.
“What took you so long?” Her tone was suddenly informal and accusatory as he frowned. “I was just…”
“I just heard someone call me, and there was nobody here…” He frowned at her words as she seemed agitated.
“Who would call you around here?” He looked around and narrowed his brows “Nobody knows you.”
“I know, but…” Roshni stopped as realisation dawned on her. They weren’t calling her name. At least what she heard wasn’t her name, yet why did it feel like hers? She looked up at a confused Pratap, still waiting for answers.
“I must have heard wrong.” She shook her head.
“Let's get to the Jain Temples. We have to return home before sunset or else Maasa would be worried for you.” He was ready to leave, but stopped as Roshni sat fixed in her spot.
“Can we stay here, for just a while?” Her words made him look at her as she smiled faintly, “I feel like sitting here for a while.” Pratap sighed, trying to brush away whatever thoughts he was having and sat down quietly a few feet away from her, both of them staring at the green water of the Kund.
“I wanted to ask you, what do you dream about?” She broke the silence as he sat with his knees closed together at his chest and glanced at her. “You never said…”
“What?” he asked as though he hadn’t heard her. Perhaps he was preoccupied.
“You said you have dreams you want answers to. What are those?” Roshni repeated.
“Umm… I don’t know. They are repetitive and unclear,” he shrugged, trying to avoid her question.
“Do you hear names that aren’t yours?” He shook his head.
“But I know I am not the person they are talking to.”
“Who are you then?” Her question made him look at her eyes as she avoided eye contact. Awkward with the same, he stared back at the water with a faint smile.
“What I believe I am can be quite different from reality, so it doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn't matter. Every day, I have a dream where I am dying, do you know how scary it is? Every day, I dread falling asleep. I don’t know who I am anymore. And I want to know who I was. Perhaps then I will know who I am.” Roshni stopped with a sigh, controlling her tears. Her trauma was something she should talk about, is what her therapist said.
“Hey, are you alright?” Pratap asked with concern. Roshni shook her head, and tears trickled down her cheeks. She got up abruptly to leave.
“This was a bad idea, you won’t understand. I should take the next bus home.” She started walking away as Pratap suddenly felt a sense of fear and emptiness grip him. He had felt this way time and again after his dreams. Without a thought, almost in a reflex, he got up and followed her.
“Roshni. Stop. Please.” She didn’t, and in an impulse to stop her, he held her wrist and turned her around. She started sobbing in heavy breaths, and Pratap stepped back, letting go of her hand. “Are you okay?”
“It is the anxiety.” She said. “I need to calm down. I am fine, I …” She broke down in tears and not knowing what to do, he did what he never thought he was capable of. He hugged her. Trying to pacify her breath, he patted her gently.
“It is okay, you are fine.” Pratap could sense her hands on his back as she hugged him back and sobbed. He didn’t know how long they stayed that way, for it felt like an eternity, and he slowly let go when her sobs decreased. Roshni realised she was still holding on to him and let go, a little embarrassed.
“I am sorry. I spiral badly. I don’t know who I am anymore.” She wiped away her tears.
“We are all but a reflection of our past.” Pratap mouthed the words as though they came from a distance.
“What?” Roshni frowned, confused, looking up at him.
“Just something my aunt used to say,” he shrugged in nostalgia. “No, I don’t have that dream, but I do dream of something repetitive as well.”
“And? What is that?” She asked, as Pratap sighed and gave in. They sat down on the edge of a ruined wall as he spoke.
“I dream of someone waiting for me, someone I said goodbye to, and promised to come back to. I am going somewhere, unsure of my return. It makes me feel heavy. I keep asking myself, Did I come back?” He looked at her face, studying him.
“Do you remember these people?” She asked.
“Just her eyes.” He shook his head.
“Do you know those eyes?” Almost in a reflex to her question, he looked up at her doe eyes and smiled faintly. “No, I don’t.” He lied to her.
