AAYA TERE DAR PAR DEEWANA

 Pratap was outside the gates of Meera Girls College in Udaipur by the next afternoon, unsure of whether to go in and ask for her. He spotted a few girls walking out and one of them kept staring at him suspiciously before approaching him. He stood in his spot still awkward as she asked, “Aren’t you that ASI guy who Roshni met?”
“I… what?” Pratap narrowed his eyes “I am sorry, I don’t remember you.”
“I am Mahek.” The girl waved her hand and smiled “I was with her at Chawand.”
“Oh, I see.” Pratap sighed. “I found some information that might help her …err… project.” He stopped at Mahek’s suspicious frown. “So I thought…”
“You came all the way here to give her some information about her project?” Pratap cursed himself inwardly. Indeed that sounded lame when she repeated it. “Why didn’t you call her?”
“I…” He cleared his throat “I lost her number so… I was hoping that she would be interested in an on-field internship…”
“Oh, wait, I will give you her number. But she isn’t here and I don’t think she cares about internships now.” Mahek frowned slightly trying to find her contact.
“Why is that?” Pratap asked with his brows raised in surprise. “She was quite…”
“She is getting engaged this weekend and maybe married soon. She never came back from her hometown.” Mahek looked up from her phone at a visibly pale Pratap. “Are you okay, Mr…?” Pratap stepped back as Mahek asked him again and walked away silently at a fast pace, leaving Mahek confused. She dialled Roshni immediately.

The small apartment was full of relatives, children running about, women choosing clothes and jewellery, laughter and gossip, when Roshni seated during the chaos tried to be happy in it in vain. She eyed her mother looking happiest and forced a smile. Maybe this was the life chosen for her. Maybe her husband would be good. Maybe financial stability was all that was needed to be happy. Her hands felt cold and she could suddenly sense her phone vibrating. She picked it up and stepped out of the house to find some quiet. It was Mahek and she informed some weird guy came to give her some information which would help with her project. Roshni frowned slightly and thanked Mahek. She then checked her calls and messages. She hadn’t missed any, then why was he there in person than giving a call? What else could he have possibly… unless… Roshni breathed in and dialled his number. The phone beeped for a while as she paced the lane in front of her house and then informed her that the number was switched off. Frustrated, she typed a message, asking him why he had come to visit her then shook her head and deleted it from Whatsapp. 

It wasn’t until Pratap had boarded the bus to Bundi from Udaipur, which would stop over at Bijoliya that he had time to think things through. He couldn’t barge into her engagement with a theory, or an internship offer and expect things to go his way. He couldn’t even tell her the entire truth about what he felt. Suddenly, the feeling of emptiness in him was back and he couldn’t make up his mind. A part of him wanted to tell her what he experienced and felt. Another part of him feared her judgement and perhaps her misunderstanding of his feelings. What were his feelings? The conductor was shouting “Bijoliya, anyone getting down in Bijoliya?” when a few fellow passengers hurled towards the gate of the bus. Pratap found himself not moving from his seat. What was he doing? He had to get down and go home. The conductor got down and started looking for passengers. 

“Bundi! Bundi! Empty seats.” Pratap’s throat felt dry. He needed to see her once. Just once before he accepted he had lost her, perhaps in more lives than one, and moved on. There was no way she remembered anything he did. But a part of him wanted to let her know she wasn’t crazy. If she was, he was crazier. You barely know her for a few weeks. His inner voice of rationale seemed to scream into his ears. But did he? Or had he known her all along? But the question was what she felt.

The moment Dheer put the Chunri over Roshni’s head, making her look up, Roshni felt a strange sense of Deja Vu. She was trapped in the middle of this orchestra and had no control of her life whatsoever. She clasped her sweaty hands together trying hard not to have an anxiety attack. The rituals were simple for the engagement. The ladies would take the bride to the nearby temple, where the groom would be escorted by the men and there after prayer they would be blessed and rings exchanged. For a few seconds, Roshni thought of escaping. Perhaps running away. Where to? Strangely she remembered Hansa’s words. You are welcome here whenever you want to come, treat my house like your home. Then she remembered Mahek’s call. What was Pratap doing there? What was so important that he didn’t call? How did he react to the news of her engagement? Why would he care? Roshni realised as she was escorted towards a new life, by her mother and would-be mother-in-law on either side, and the temple came closer with every step, all she could think of were her dreams, the feelings of belonging to people and places she never knew and… Pratap. A lone tear trickled down her eyes. She wanted to cry, throw a tantrum and run away from it all. Meet him one last time and tell him all her pent-up feelings, which weren’t perhaps even rational enough for his senses. She found her mother’s hand tighten over her trembling cold ones as she looked up from behind her veil at her mother’s face smiling at her. What was she thinking? She couldn’t be so selfish just because she couldn’t justify her feelings.

Pratap found himself getting down at the Bundi bus stop and looking around. The mid-day town was not very crowded, and for some reason, the stalls were shut too. He looked around and sighed. Where in a town could he even find her? He took the crumbled piece of paper out of his purse and looked around. “Near Neelkanth Mahadev Temple.” The last line read. 
Before long, Pratap could hear the temple bells from a distance. The temple looked like a replica of the Neelkanth Temple he had seen in Kumbhalgarh’s pictures. The royal ladies prayed here. He had heard stories of Rana Kumbha being assassinated in that very temple. Shrouded with a lot of thoughts he made up his mind to visit the temple and ask around for the Chauhans. He removed his shoes and climbed up the stairs. 

Roshni stopped on her way, a few feet away from where her groom stood, waiting. She could see the Phallus of the Lord. The gust of wind made the bells ring over her head. She let go of her mother’s hand and tears streamed down her cheeks. Jivanta frowned a little at her overwhelming emotions. She had never cried in public. Maybe she was… Dheer and the relatives looked puzzled at each other as Roshni suddenly removed the Chunri from over her head. 
“I am sorry. I am so sorry. I can’t.” She shook her head, picking up the sides of her lehenga with both hands and turning to leave. The relatives gasped as Jivanta looked visibly embarrassed.
“What are you doing?” She looked at her daughter, stopping her by her wrist, horrified.
“I just can’t. I am sorry, Maasa.” Roshni glanced over her shoulder at her mother’s pale face as she jolted her hand free from her grip. “This doesn’t seem right.” She pushed through the chaos in the crowd trying to walk away.

Pratap had asked yet another man who shook his head hearing Roshni’s name. He shook his head cursing himself for his impulse and was about to leave when a commotion caught his attention. Seemed like a wedding party. His throat was dry as he remembered Mahek’s words. This was a bad decision. He turned to leave. The crowd was dispersing and in the middle of the sound of bells, chants, vendors and people chattering Pratap suddenly heard a familiar sound. He stopped in his tracks, a little shocked. Her anklets. He turned to search the crowd as the sound seemed to approach him.

Roshni stopped at his sight. Was she hallucinating? Her therapist had warned that her symptoms often spiralled into psychotic episodes and hallucinations. She parted her lips and no words came out. He was standing barely a foot away. Pratap let out a gasp, seeing her in a rose pink lehenga heavily embroidered and she was decked up in wedding jewellery. Her eyes were teary. For a moment, Pratap forgot everything around him. His past, present, future, the crowd, the staring relatives, the angry insulted groom and his family, the chants, the bells and the vendors. He managed a smile as he whispered “Ajabdeh.” Roshni gasped as though she had heard him say her name for eras and decades beyond the ones they knew of and that the name he said was hers, from her heart and soul. She ran to hug him and Pratap put his arms around her in a tight embrace. Roshni let her heart cry out as she heard his heartbeat in her ears as he patted her head and managed to whisper “I am here.”

The relatives gasped as Dheer shrieked “This girl has a lover! They hid it from us.” Her words made Roshni move away from his embrace a little aware of their surroundings as Pratap held her cold hands in his tightly. Almost immediately Roshni stopped trembling. He looked up at the woman who spoke and the few men who were approaching him, as the woman lamented “How treacherous of them!” Pratap kept staring at the lady in confusion as the groom came up to her and said “Let's go, we have been insulted enough, Chotima.”
“Chotima?” Pratap mouthed the words almost in a trance as he found Roshni’s grip tighten on his hands. He stared back at her as she nodded silently and whispered back “Choti maa.”

Before Pratap could react the crowd around them started having a chaotic argument and people started speculating.
“Jivanta, what were you thinking?” “Jivanta, we told you not to send your daughter to the city to study!” “Such audacity.” The woman these accusations were hurtled to, stood her ground as she said “I have no daughter, she is dead to me now.”
“Maasa.” Roshni stepped forward, loosening her grip on Pratap’s hand a little as Pratap kept staring at the woman. She raised her hand to make Roshni stop and repeated,
“Leave. I don’t want to see your face anymore…”
“I can explain, Maasa.”
“I don’t want you or your lies.” Jivanta shook her head teary. “You betrayed me as your father did.” A gasp escaped Roshni’s lips.
“Please listen to us once.” Pratap stepped forward as the woman looked up at him disgustedly, “We can explain, she never lied to you, Maasa.”
“I am neither your Maasa nor hers.” Jivanta shook her head. She was shocked to find Pratap at her feet as she moved away. “What are you doing?”
“You are the mother; you can scold us, punish us and say whatever you like. But please hear us out for once.” He spoke, sitting on his knees at her feet. “Trust me, I know you are a woman of principles and your children wouldn’t do anything…” before he could finish someone hit him with a rod, and he fell holding on to his shoulder that hurt. 

“Drag him out of this pure place and beat him up. Teach them a lesson. No girl in our community should dare to…” Jivanta stood horrified as the men dragged the man out of the temple and started beating him up. 
“Please stop, Maasa, make them stop,” Roshni begged as she pushed through the crowd and tried to reach Pratap. Jivanta’s throat felt dry. Despite everything that transpired she suddenly felt worried for the man she barely knew. Toran Mal had pushed Roshni away as she tried to shield Pratap from the blows and she fell to the ground.
“Roshni!” Jivanta shrieked. “Stop, I say everyone stops!” She made people look up at her momentarily giving Pratap time to get up and check on Roshni. She was bleeding from her forehead. Pratap tightened his jaws as he got up, battered and bruised.

“What kind of a society are yours that you pride so much and hit your women?” His voice was different, intimidating and loud. Before anyone could protest, he had caught Toran Mal by his collar. “I will make you pay.”
“Pratap.” A shiver ran down his spine hearing Jivanta say his name out loud. “Leave him, Roshni is unconscious.” The moment his grip loosened on Toran Mal he ran to his parents and the people stepped back, seeing Roshni was senseless. Fearing the consequence of their action if something happened to her and the police arrived, they all walked away. Pratap rushed to her side, holding her head on his lap as his hand was red with her blood.
“No. No. No.” he shook his head. “Not this time.”