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For two days, Roshni watched her mother happily humming a tune, going about her chores and telling every person who called or met that she had agreed to meet a groom. The more she saw her mother’s happiness, the more Roshni was sure of her decision. But when she called Vamshika, she immediately showed her concerns.
“A marriage proposal?” Her gasp was quite evident over the phone, “You went there to get married?” Mahek snatched the phone and spoke, “But what about your degree?”
“I will finish college first.” Roshni wanted to sound convincing “Besides, it is just the first meeting. I am halfway through my project. I will be back next week or so.”
“Don’t bother,” Mahek replied. “The Fest has been announced, and next week’s classes are off for us to work on that.” She sounded disappointed.
“Oh, okay, I will be back when the classes resume, then. Are you upset with me?” Before Roshni could even finish her sentence, the phone was disconnected. She sighed. Even if this went through, she had the task of convincing her friends that this was her choice.
Pratap had reached a crossroad where the car stopped for some refreshments. The green Aravallis with breezy chill weather welcomed them to Kelwara, and the crossroad had a signboard that said Kumbhalgarh would be up the left road, and Haldighati is down the right one.
“We are going that way.” His co-worker pointed to the right, offering him tea. He took it and nodded as the man continued, “Beyond the Haldighati pass, a few kilometres away is Dholan.”
“I have never been to Haldighati.” Pratap tried to sound casual about it. He knew his co-worker was a Mewari, and which Mewari would not gasp in shock at such a revelation from a fellow Mewari?
“We should stop by the Rakt Talai and Chetak’s tomb.” The man spoke decisively. Pratap nodded quietly as he sipped his tea and enjoyed the pleasant climate for a while. Then, it was time to move.
The car stopped near Rakt Talai, a large gate with a marble board saying the same, welcomed them into what was now a garden with high walls. Chattris, in memorial of the fallen, still stood the test of time.
“It is now called Badshah Bagh.” The co-worker quipped as he got busy taking pictures of the place, and Pratap moved away from him to another side of the field. Strange, how peaceful and serene the place was, with families sitting around the grass like there was never turmoil on the soil of that very place. Yet none of that matched the vision of his dream. Pratap sat down on one of the benches and wondered. Perhaps his imagination had got the better of him. He had imagined whatever he was looking for because he wanted it to be true. More often than not, humans tend to see things they want to see. And Roshni? He smiled faintly at his thoughts. Maybe he was attracted to her and somehow put her in a story he found suitable. A part of him was relieved because he decided not to look for things anymore, and a part of him felt empty. As though a purpose was lifted from his shoulders. Pratap’s thoughts were interrupted when his co-worker called out to him. He got up and left the place without sparing a second glance at it. Strangely enough, the place neither disturbed him nor made him feel the eerie way he felt at Chawand. The man instructed the driver to stop at Chetak’s Smarak on their way to Haldighati.
As a crowd of tourists and cars gathered on the side of the road, Pratap looked around at the white dome-shaped memorial and the Shiva temple adjacent to it. He walked reluctantly towards it and frowned.
“This isn’t right.” He shook his head. “This was built later, I guess?”
“How do you know that?” The man raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Yes, Amar Singh built it, although…” He stopped as Pratap walked past him on the other side to a cave-like structure a few meters down the road. The man followed with a quick “They say they hid weapons here.” Pratap shook his head. “This is not the place.”
“Pardon?” The man asked with raised eyebrows. “You said you have never been here.”
“I know, but this… is a more commercial version of the… truth?” He found words coming out of his mouth like he had no control over them.
“Umm… what is the truth then?” The man chuckled. Pratap shook his head and kept quiet. On their way, they had passed the Banas River, which meandered in the winter. He had heard stories of its flooding its shores when it rained in the Aravallis. Preoccupied with the uneasiness of his thoughts, he didn’t realise when the car had reached the Haldighati Pass.
“The pass is wider than it was then.” The man spoke like a know-it-all. “It is said elephants couldn’t get past it.” Pratap stood in silence for a while and walked a few paces toward where the crowd of tourists were less. An old woman was selling tea, and he abruptly asked her, “Haldighati ka Darrah?” He didn’t know why he was asking about a pass that he stood at, but the woman pointed at a small clearing a few feet away. He walked up to it, and a closed gate greeted him.
“Hey, where are you going?” His colleague called after him as Pratap jumped the gate and turned around to say, “I will be back in a while, wait in the car.” The man looked puzzled as he followed the forest path down to the left, where the bushes increased in number, and the forestland looked dense. Could there be animals here? Pratap didn’t spare a second’s thought as he picked up a fallen branch, which acted as a whip-like cane, and he slashed his way through the forest until he found a small, now dry water creek leading up to a canal-like stream. He sat down on the edge of the murky water and sighed. The mid-day sun was over his head, but even in winter, he could feel that he was sweating profusely.
“This is it,” he whispered almost to himself. “Where he jumped across and…” He looked around and spotted a huge barren rock amidst the greenery. He sat down on it as his vision blurred. He closed his eyes, and he could hear the neigh of a horse as though it was coming from a distance. He looked up and around him at the silence of the place; he was alone. He stood up and walked further through the forest path and onto what appeared to be a canyon. He placed his hand on the side of the hill as a support to jump into the past, and his hand left an imprint on the loose soil. He tried to brush the soil off his palms and found them to be yellow. His eyes lit up. He could suddenly hear screams and swords clashing. His throat dried, and his breath increased as he sat down on his knees, trying to regain his composure. The sounds increased in his ears as though he was moving towards them. He placed his hands on his ears and tried to make them stop. He didn’t know when his vision blurred.
Roshni checked herself in the mirror and sighed in disappointment. Her mother had dolled her up in her most expensive saree and all her wedding jewellery for the groom’s family to see. She had even put a Kajal Tika behind her ears and repeatedly told Roshni to walk at a slower pace and talk softly.
“Answer only what has been asked and don’t ask questions. If they tell you to sing, don’t refuse…”
“Maasa, you are turning me into a nodding puppet. This is not me. Should they not see the real me and judge?” Roshni stopped at her mother’s shocked stare.
“Nonsense! What is wrong with you? Where did you get such ideas from?” She snapped, and as soon as a car was heard stopping in front of their house, she jumped and ran to the door. Roshni sat down in the tidied-up room she shared with her mother and breathed in. She could hear her mother greet the guests with her most cheerful voice.
It wasn’t until ten more minutes that Jivanta had pushed the tray of Kachori and tea in her hands and told her to come out. Roshni looked down at the plate to see that there were four people's food there. As she walked out of the room, parting the curtains, she looked up and froze in her spot. The woman sitting on the rattan chair facing her was smiling at her as her mother pushed her to go on.
“I am Dheer, his stepmother. But just saying. Toran Mal is exactly like my own, isn’t it, Jagmal? He calls me Choti Maa.” The woman was chirpy, and her voice seemed to hurt Roshni’s ears. She looked at the other guests, a boy about fourteen sitting beside the woman, a man in his fifties and the groom in question now gawking at her.
“I am sorry, do I know you?” Jivanta was taken aback by Roshni’s question as soon as she placed the plates down. Dheer looked puzzled.
“I don’t think you know me.” She shook her head, “Unless you have been to Delhi and we met…” Roshni shook her head, a little confused. Jivanta gave her a warning glance to be quiet, but the more the woman spoke, the more she felt uneasy.
Pratap woke up with a gasp. He had been in and out of consciousness and found himself in the guest room of the government tourism department. His colleague was alarmed and came to his side.
“It had been over an hour, so I went looking for you with the driver. We found you unconscious. What happened?” Pratap sat up, struggling a little as his head ached. He could remember the past, the noise in his head and glimpses of a dream-like state. He shook his head.
“Must have been the sun, I am fine.” He reassured her. The man went to fetch some medicine when he picked up his phone and reached the contact app. For a few minutes, his hand hovered around Roshni’s contact before he shook his head and put his phone down. He couldn’t possibly tell her all that over a call. He needed to meet her. She was probably in college by then.
Roshni was taken aback by how fast the chat went from asking about hobbies to Jivanta and Dheer congratulating each other. They wanted a Sagaai as early as possible. Dheer called their family priest, and over the phone, he suggested that the “Muhurat” two days later was ideal for the engagement ceremony. She was neither asked nor allowed to speak as she kept looking at her mother, a little horrified. Was this her plan all along? Roshni felt deceived. After they left, she ran up to the roof and sat down, gasping for breath. Her hands were shaking. Not only did the man not talk to her, but also none of them let her know any details of what he did or what his areas of interest were. She had seen her mother being scarred by a loveless marriage. Roshni couldn’t believe she was being pushed into the same. Had her mother learnt nothing?
