Chapter 2
Khushi raced back towards her tribal grounds, little Shemaroo clasped in her arms. She had neared the campsite when she remembered to slow her steps. But she was too late as she was noticed by a group of young men as she drew closer. They stared at her insolently, their gazes hateful and lustful at the same time. She shivered and edged away from them towards her tent. She was used to that particular mix of gazes by now and it always left her filled with trepidation. She hurried inside her tent and saw her adopted mother Madhumati putting her crystal ball away.
Madhumati was a large woman. She was always dressed in colourful clothes and lots of jewellery. Her position as fortune teller of the tribe was too important and she always dressed in a striking manner. Madhumati turned as Khushi hurried inside. She smacked the girl's arm as she drew closer, admonishing her,
"Titaliya, what is this? How many times have I told you not to run around? You know that everyone is after you as it is! And try to keep out of the way of the young boys; they don't mean you any good!"
"Sorry Maayi, I'll be more careful", the girl promised.
Khushi set Shemaroo down and he daintily walked over to Madhumati whose attention was on Khushi. He started sniffing around her skirts before he latched on a corner and started chewing on it contentedly.
Madhumati noted her daughter's high color and jumpy manner. She frowned; had someone done something to the girl, she wondered.
"Titaliya, is everything all right?"
"What?"
"Is everything all ………………"
"Of course Maayi, everything is all right," Khushi interrupted her mother quickly, accompanying her words with a smile.
Madhumati frowned some more but satisfied that Khushi must be all right if she said so, she nodded. To be honest, she thought, Khushi, for all her beauty and grace could be rather scatter-brained at times. She wanted to say something more but feeling a tug on her skirts, she looked down and exclaimed,
"Shemaroo, what is this?"
Unconcerned, Shemaroo continued his chewing. Madhumati tugged her skirt and freed it, eyeing the wet patch distastefully. She turned angry eyes on Shemaroo who had walked over to Khushi who in turn knelt down and rubbed his side softly.
"Khushi???"
Rather puzzled at her mother's loud voice, Khushi looked up to see her mother holding one end of her skirt in her hand and glaring at Khushi and Shemaroo.
"Kya hua Maayi?"
"Kya hua??? That nonsense of a Shemaroo decided he doesn't get enough to eat and started chewing my skirt. I swear Titaliya, see if I don't sell him to Jaswant and his family. That man loves goat meat and I'll get satisfaction to see that naughty Shemaroo roasted over an open fire!"
"Maayi!!!"
"What Maayi? You spoil him."
"Sorry Maayi," Khushi mumbled under her breath. Taking pity on her daughter, Madhumati grudgingly said,
"Oh well, I'll give him another chance."
Khushi brightened at this and running over to hug her mother, she grabbed Shemaroo and both went outside.
Madhumati shook her head but didn't say anything else, instead watching as Khushi went to the small fire outside their tent where their dinner was cooking. She slowly followed the girl outside. Nowadays she always fell ill but tried to disguise it in front of Khushi. The girl's life was sad enough as it was without worrying about her future as well.
Life for Khushi in her banjaara camp was not easy. Like all close societies, the banjaara's were also close knit. All tribes were divided into five gotras or families. It was not permissible for a person to marry someone from their own gotra but they could marry a person from another family or gotra. They could even marry a person from another gypsy from a different tribe; just so long as the person was one of them. However the gypsies or banjaara's didn't condone marriage to outsiders. It was taboo for that particular rule to be broken.
If a boy broke this rule, he would eventually be forgiven but girls were never forgiven for marrying outside the banjaara's kind. Khushi's mother Reshma, a high spirited and very beautiful banjaara girl had broken this rule. Not only had she broken the rule, she had gone one step further. She had run away with a wealthy Thakur's son who had not even married her. He had just been a young man travelling and testing the wings of his freedom. Reshma followed her lover while he travelled over some places, forsaking her tribe and her family. They lived together until his travels finished and he went back to his family, leaving Reshma behind. She had nowhere to go to and came back to her tribe. It took her some months to track them since banjaara's lived a nomadic existence. When she caught up with them, her pregnancy was highly noticeable. Her family and the tribe washed their hands off her. In order to survive she took to following them at a distance. When her daughter was born, no one came forward to help her and she delivered her daughter by herself. Mother and daughter would have died had not Madhumati, the tribal healer and fortune teller come forward to help them. She took them in amidst strict tribal opposition but Madhumati was a powerful woman and no one dared to ostracise her; they were too scared that she might curse them!
Reshma named her daughter Khushi, a name that was not common amongst banjaara's at all. She chose that name in memory of her love for her young lover who always said that she brought Khushi in his life. She bestowed that name on her daughter and just a few years later, died. It was not a natural death; instead she died saving her honor and her daughter's life!!!
Madhumati brought the little girl up. In her caste Khushi was a half-breed and a very beautiful one too. She had inherited Reshma's petite build and her wild black curls but her milky white skin color was from her father. She also inherited his hazel eyes. She looked exotic with her banjaara clothes and mixed coloring. The other tribe members shunned her and if it was up to them, many of them would have harmed her but once again Madhumati's influence saved her. But it didn't save her from the taunts and Madhumati was forever scared as she knew that the day she was not around, 17 year old Khushi would be in a very bad position.
Khushi finished cooking and they sat down to have their dinner. After dinner Khushi took out her sewing bag. It contained all the accessories that she used to create the stunning embroidery and embellishments on fabrics that were so popular in melas. Her skill with clothes was another reason most of the tribal women hated her. She was even better than the oldest and most skilled women in the tribe. In fact she was much better than others at many things that she did, like embroidery, cooking, dancing and all. She learnt all things whole heartedly, thinking that something might touch a cord and her tribe would accept her. Till now that had not happened.
As she worked on a length of blue silk, embroidering tiny gold flowers and setting small golden bells in the fabric, her mind drifted to the afternoon's incident. She had seen the Maharaja for the first time a few years back when his father died and the people of that area held a coronation ceremony for him. Royalty was abolished and titles were mere courtesy but the Raizada dynasty was highly revered. When the king died, the people of Devgarh were anxious to see him crowned. It didn't matter that it was just a social convention. For the people it was the thought that had counted. They had approached his Dadi and Arnav was crowned.
Khushi remembered that day well; people had lined the streets to see the young Yuvraaj completing his last ride as a prince atop his white horse through the city area as he went towards the mandir where he was formally blessed before being crowned. She had been much younger then and had felt that the new Maharaja looked like a true 'sapno ke rajkumar'. To see him so closely today and looking at her like that had scared her. She hoped she was not in some kind of trouble. She hated disappointing her Maayi in anyway.
With a shiver, she remembered the intensity of his gaze. It made her uncomfortable and yet at the same time, it also awakened something in her. What exactly it was she had not figured out yet. It occurred to her that since the Maharaja was in Devgarh nowadays and it appeared that he liked walking on his land, she would be well-advised to avoid the forests. But she also liked walking there, she thought sadly. She continued her embroidery, bemoaning the loss of her freedom when an idea occurred to her and she brightened. She could change the time of her walk, she realized. In fact it made perfect sense. She would take her walk at some other time, she decided.
She finished her work and took the cloth to Madhumati to show her. Her adopted mother studied the silky royal blue cloth with its gold decorations and smiled mistily. Khushi's exquisite skill never failed to amaze her. She ran a gentle hand over the girl's head and blessed her. Her titaliya deserved to marry a nice young man who would treasure her for the beautiful soul that she was. But banjaara's had long memories; Reshma would not be forgotten and Khushi would continue to suffer. Madhumati wished that there was some way that she could see Khushi settled before she died but how that would happen, she did not know.
She watched as Khushi carried the cloth to a large box in which she kept the completed fabrics to sell on market days in the town. Something occurred to her and she called out,
"Khushi, not there; place that cloth in that small trunk of yours."
"Why?"
"Just place it there, that's all."
Feeling rather puzzled, Khushi nonetheless obeyed her mother. Every once in a while, whenever Khushi completed working on a very beautiful fabric, her mother bade her place it in her trunk. For what purpose, Khushi didn't know. But from childhood till now, that trunk carried many beautiful fabrics decorated equally exquisitely by Khushi's own hands.
She placed her things away and started playing with Shemaroo. Madhumati smiled sadly; that trunk was in preparation for that day when her Khushi would get married; it would be like her dowry. Never mind what, there could be no harm in dreaming, she told herself………………………..
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