Chapter 162

Chapter 241: Valediction from the Village Home

With a heavy heart, the First Lady sat cross-legged on the floor of her beloved bedroom, packing her clothes into the open suitcase along with other cherished things that she retrieved from the depths of her dear old wooden chest.

She had taken time's habit of flight for granted, too lost in the dreamy delight of being home again, that she was taken by surprise when the day of parting finally caught up with her.

Her hands fumbled through the contents in the inside of the wooden chest and extracted a tiny wooden box, upon finding which, her grim face suddenly lit with innocent mirth.

"My treasure box!" she exclaimed, holding her little box of personal riches that she had been deprived of on account of an unexpected nuptial hitched in haste.

Propping the box upon the floor before her, she delicately opened its lid.

Her eyes moistened as she let her fingers brush upon the prized possessions within the box.

The sunlight from the window caught on something in the box, flashing silver.

Picking them up, Kushi gazed at the two silver keys lying in the heart of her palm.

One was her wish key, bound upon the wish she had made on the wish tree.

And the other was his.

Clasping her fingers into a loving fist that enclosed the keys, she held her fist to her heart, "Goddess Mother, my wish came true...and I hope his did too. Though I wonder what he could have wished for, being not a believer in rituals of this sort..."

That was when she noticed something else in the box, something that was hidden in the rumble of all the little treasures but had chosen to peep itself to her vision after she'd extracted the keys.

Dropping the keys onto her lap, she lifted up the box and overturned it.

With a bustle of jingles and clinks, assorted articles of many shapes and purposes fell upon the wide skirt of her gown and, on top of them all, stifling the noise of their little accident, fell a book.

Not any book, but the book that had been a gift from a very esteemed person. Which you will remember to be none other than the Chinese Princess.

Placing the emptied box aside, Kushi picked up the book and flicked through the pages, wondering for the first time why the Princess had been so kind as to come visit her and give her this book.

She said it was the painting that brought her to Arhasia but why would a royal Princess cross seven seas to a foreign land just to meet the one in the painting? Could gratitude be that powerful? Or was it curiosity? Whichever emotion it was that provoked the Princess to find the persona in the portrait...

Flipping to the fourth page, Kushi's eyes skimmed over the neat script:

I Ching, the Book of Changes, is China's traditional philosophy on divination that speaks of the Taoist yin-yang. The two forces are present in everything that exists in the world. Everything is either a yin or yang. There is a popular belief that Yin is feminine and yang is masculine. This distinction intersects other divisions wherein Earth, Night, Water, Winter, Moonlight, Rain and Death are yin while Day, Heaven, Fire, Sunlight and Birth are yang.

But because everything encounters a dual action of both yin and yang, a girl may have traits or yang and a boy have traits of yin.

The circular symbol of the yin-yang, which is called Liang Yi, is a black yin and a white yang divided by a curved line. The yin contains a tiny yang and the yang contains a tiny yin, an indicator that nothing is completely a yin or a yang. Each contains the seed of the other.

Kushi was thoughtful. White with a tiny black and Black with a tiny white...Good with a little bad and Bad with a little good...

Lord Arnav's face crossed her mind and she smiled. A yin-yang incarnate.

Kushi returned her attention to the book:

Adding to this ideology is the connotation of the curved line which stands for the constant change of balance between the two sides. A healthy body, mind and soul are results of a well-balanced yin and yang.

In battle or warfare, Taoist doctrines ascertain that an attacker must not instigate force but take the attack of the opponent and use its own force against it.

"I should have read this when I was at war with Arnavji!" She closed the book and sighed at it, "All this unapplied knowledge, wasted."

And then she paused.

There was something scrawled on the frontage of the book.

It was slightly smudged so she tilted the book closer to her face and squinted at it.

"To my beloved friend...Chan-" Kushi struggled to pick out the reedy cursive letters, "Chand-ra-ki."

"Chandraki?" She blinked at the book confusedly, "The Princess must have meant Chandrika."

Kushi shook her head, mumbling, "Chinese pronunciation of Indian names!"

And then she frowned in thought, "But who is Chandrika? Had the Princess devised it as an Indian nickname for me like how she'd offered me a Chinese name?"

Kushi looked down at the book. The book was given as a gift to her so there was doubt required that the name was meant for her too. Maybe she mistook my name until someone told her I was Kushi, reasoned the young girl.

After the suitcases, the boxes and the baskets had been paraded down the stairs, through the living room and out the front door to be piled into the carriage waiting outside, Kushi sorrowfully faced her dear family to bid them farewell.

Crushed in her father's embrace, Kushi almost wept at her Babuji's reluctance to part with his daughter. Even Mistress Madhumati was not in the spirits to tease her niece, uncertainly patting her red wig every other second.

But Garima was ignorant of Kushi and was more occupied in the gifts and edibles she'd made for the inhabitants of the Castle.

"Did you take the jars of jam?" she asked Kushi who was now embraced in her aunt's arms.

"It's packed, Garima," said Buaji, answering for her niece.

"How about the pies and the cupcakes?" Garima looked around as though she hoping to find one floating by.

"They are all in the basket," answered Madhumati, releasing Kushi from her hug.

"And where is the basket?" Garima wanted to know.

"In the carriage, Amma," said Kushi.

Garima frowned at her, "How do I know if it was packed neat enough?"

Madhumati slapped her beefy palm upon her forehead, "Hai Re Nandakishore! Garima, it was yourself that packed the basket!"

"Was it?" Garima had a lost look on her face, "Well, I don't remember if I packed the meatloaf-"

Suddenly, young arms were around her, pulling her into the embrace of her daughter.

"I will miss you too, Amma," murmured Kushi into her mother's ears.

Garima wrapped her arms around her youngest and as the mother closed her eyes, tears fell down her cheeks, "Who said I was going to miss you! I am waiting to be relieved of you!"

"What a wholesome wicked mother you are!" mocked Kushi and kissed her mother's wet cheek, knowing her mother was prone to worry about this and that when trying to hide the huger lump that might threaten tears to rise in her motherly eyes.

Lord Arnav stood outside before the readied carriage and, turning to Master Happy, shook his hand. He noticed Ram standing beside Master Happy silently and attempted the alienated liberty to ruffle Ram's head.

Master Happy was touched on witnessing the last gesture of the First Lord, that he couldn't stop himself from whispering to Lord Arnav, "He doesn't show it but he is grieved inside both by your parting and also by the greater parting that waits for him."

Confused, Lord Arnav looked at the elderly man, whose expression was sad as he said, "I am returning him to the Boy's Home the day after."

Lord Arnav looked at Ram. The little boy had not overheard the conversation, having found a distraction in the form of a blue butterfly that was dancing beside his little shoulder.

Just then Master Gupta, Kushi and the women folk came out of the Cottage and headed towards the carriage.

Lord Arnav shook hands with Master Gupta, let Garima and Madhumati touch his head in blessing and then after helping his wife into the carriage, got into it after her.

"Do come again soon, babua," said Madhumati on a hopeful note, "You and Akashbabua and the girls."

"We will, Buaji," assured Lord Arnav politely, with a gentle tip of his hat.

Wide-eyed, Kushi stared at the hat-donned head of her husband and would have implemented on the moment with an exclamation if she hadn't caught her father's kind face at the window beside her and her young daughterly heart sank.

"I wish I could stay with you a while longer, Babuji," Kushi mumbled, her eyes moistening again.

Her father patted her cheek lightly, "Home is a place of welcomes and never of goodbyes. You will come again, bitiya."

Kushi leaned forward and kissed her father's cheek, a drop of her tear fastening gently upon his aging cheek.

And then the carriage was rolling out of the street.

A minute's speedy ride across the dusty path, with houses and Cottages and people's curious faces flashing by, led them right out of the South Village and the vast grasslands welcomed them on either side.

Lord Arnav saw that Kushi was silent along the ride, which was unusual.

She was looking out the window and he knew her heart was elsewhere.

He placed a hand on hers.

Snapped from her reverie by his touch, she looked at him.

He had a kind look in his eyes, "I never thought I would say this but I will have no objections in paying a visit to the Village next time."

Kushi's eyes lit with gratitude but her lips curved to a clever smirk, "Are you saying this to conceal the clanger you made a moment ago?"

Lord Arnav was puzzled, "What do you mean?"

Kushi narrowed her gaze, "Did you think it fell unheard: you calling my aunt Buaji?"

Lord Arnav withdrew his hand and frowned, "I don't know what you are talking about."

He turned his head to the tiny window on his side of the carriage and immersed his vision in the passing landscape, his mind wandering.

Kushi smiled complacently at him but decided wisely not to pursue the professed point since it was certain he was uncomfortable by it.

As the hill upon which the Castle was perched neared, Kushi's heart delighted in the thought that she was to see her Jiji again while Lord Arnav's head swam with images of his sister's face, followed subsequently by the visage of her abhorred husband.

Kushi caught the serious expression on Lord Arnav's face and she bit her lower lip anxiously. Oh please, Goddess Mother, don't let the last week be a mere dream. Please don't let the return to the Castle revert what has been beautifully changed.