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Yeh Rishta Kya Kehlata Hai - 29 Sep 2025 EDT
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The Pilot Pirates | Book Talk Reading Challenge 2025
Chapter 15
It was nearly mid-morning the next day before all the horses were gathered and corralled again. And it was late afternoon before anyone thought to pay any attention to Khushi but none noticed her absence and neither did anyone recall Tara, Phulwa or Tara's son's involvement in the whole debacle.
Tara had settled Madhumati back in her tent after assuring her that her brother would take good care of Khushi. More importantly she would be safe there. The old woman had become almost numb, spending her time on her knees praying for Khushi's life. Tara did not dare to contact her brother herself. She didn't want to attract any attention to herself at the moment. This was why Phulwa delivered Madhumati her meals under cover of the dark.
Tara had no intention of telling anyone Khushi's whereabouts. With hindsight she knew that even if Khushi came back to the camp under the Sardar's protection, her virtue would always be under threat. With the girl weak and in need of care as it was, it wouldn't take much for some cruel man to rape the girl or some jealous female to cause some injury. The best place for Khushi was with Tara's brother. He would keep her hidden and his house was fairly close to the campsite, just an hour's ride away. She knew that once Khushi's absence was noted, every banjaara would be out looking for her. She had heard enough talk to know that people were pushing to make an example of the girl. Many were saying that she should be killed while others were pushing to have her given to the lowliest man in the camp as his slave. Life for Khushi at the moment was not in the banjaara camp. Her mother's sins were visited on the daughter with a vengeance. The only way she would be able to come back was with her honour restored. But the person to restore that honour was a man who was beyond their judgement.
A barely lucid Madhumati had confided to Tara that Khushi was in love with him but she had turned down an offer to become his mistress. To Tara, if Khushi had refused to become his mistress than there was no way that she would have given her virtue to him. The girl's only crime was that she loved him.
The next day the Sardar and his party returned just in time for the arrival of several Thakur's and horse traders visit. The purchase of horses and saddles as well as other items resulted in a profitable transaction. The custom was for such profitable ventures to be celebrated with much fanfare. However the Sardar's cousin who had been in charge in his absence came to report that whole story of Khushi.
The Sardar listened to his narrative. Even he, who had seen many things in his life blanched when he heard of Khushi's treatment. Immediately afterwards he went to Madhumati's tent and spoke to her at length. Sardar had known Madhumati all his life but never had he seen her in such a condition. It seemed as if that woman had aged 10 years in just 3 days' time. She narrated her side of the story. After she was finished Sardar shook his head. The first target of his displeasure was his cousin who had allowed the situation to get out of hand. He should have stopped and calmed the people at once. He should have offered Madhumati and Khushi his protection while they waited for him to come back to camp.
Of the Maharaja, Sardar couldn't say much. This was nothing new for the Maharaja's and Thakur's to do but this was the first he had heard of a girl refusing to become one's mistress. He knew that Madhumati and Khushi never lied but what to do about the people. He had absolutely no idea of how to diffuse the situation. He realized that the girl was not safe in the camp; who knew when some idiot might hurt the girl.
It was when he asked to see Khushi and Madhumati stared at him that he realized that something was awry. From the look of their tent, it seemed as if nothing had been touched for some time. Surely there was something odd here, he thought. At the same time Madhumati, while narrating the story to him realized the value of secrecy. She didn't know if Sardar knew of Tara's involvement or no and not wanting to upset the delicate balance of things now, didn't say anything.
Sardar decided that there was something odd there but didn't press the issue. Instead he took his leave and coming back to his tent, asked Tara if she knew of Khushi's whereabouts. A certain look in Tara's eyes alerted him.
"Tara, you know where Khushi is, don't you?"
Averting her eyes and not knowing how he would respond, Tara remained silent. Sardar knew for certain then that she knew where the girl was. If that was the case, Tara must have helped the girl. But then, how was it that his silly cousin didn't know about this? Sardar pondered the issue and realized that Tara must have been behind letting the horses loose and in the commotion had looked out for Khushi. And none of the people probably noted her involvement.
Deep in thought, Sardar walked out of the tent and straight out of the campsite towards a temple some short distance away. He was in a dilemma. On one side there was a question of Khushi's life and honour while on the other there were the people of his tribe. Of one thing he was certain; there was nothing he could do about Khushi's honour. The Maharaja was too high up for them. They relied on his generosity for the use of his land.
If the people of his camp were behind Khushi and willing to fight for her honour, then Sardar could lead a group of them to the palace and talk things with the Raaj Mata. But then couldn't be. The people were out for Khushi's blood. They were determined to make her pay for both her and her mother's deeds as well. Sardar inwardly cursed Khushi's unknown father. The spineless man had used Reshma and thrown her aside. He probably didn't even know about his daughter and even if he did, couldn't care less one way or the other.
In fact Sardar felt that if he addressed the issue anyway, then Madhumati would also be in danger. The people didn't know that Khushi was no longer in the camp. If he asked anything, they might take it in their heads to look for her and that wouldn't do. Knowing Tara and understanding what he could of the situation he could make out that Khushi was likely nearby. He was certain that she was not in any banjaara camps but she was nearby. That being the case and banjaara's being smart in tracking people and things; it wouldn't take long for them to discover Khushi's whereabouts. There rose his dilemma; whether to protect Khushi's life or give her justice. If he addressed the issue now and punished many of the people of the tribe, then chances were high that in their anger, people would retaliate and that could cost Madhumati and Khushi their life. Justice could cost the girl her life. And yet, if he ignored that issue; what then?
Then he realized the situation would cool down. In fact that was the best course of action. The situation had to be diffused. He had to address the issue minimally. He would remind the people that they should have waited for him instead of taking things in their own hands. He would withhold punishment for the time-being. Somehow he had to keep the people from realizing that Khushi was not in the camp anymore. How would he manage that? Would it be a good idea to break camp and start their nomadic travels a few weeks earlier this year?
Sardar thought about this. By then he had reached the mandir and after offering a short prayer and including Khushi in it, he left back for the camp. That evening, he bade the celebrations to proceed as normal. As usual before the start of any festivities, he addressed the people:
"My fellow banjaara's, this year we have had a profitable sale of horses and other things. I am extremely pleased with everyone's contribution. However, this pleasure is overshadowed by the tragedy that occurred in my absence. While I accept that it was the honour of our tribe that the Maharaja trifled with and sadly we cannot do anything about it, I do not accept the punishment that was meted out to Khushi. First and foremost, I am the only person who is entitled to punish offenders and even I have to discuss with the elders of our tribe. Secondly it appears to me that none gave Khushi an opportunity to present her side of the story. Not giving anyone a chance to explain is against our code of conduct. Sadly everyone forgot that. Thirdly, none paid any attention to Madhumati. It seems that all of you forgot that she is one of the elders of our tribe and more importantly she is our healer. To disregard her feelings is the height of disrespect. I cannot rewind the time; what has happened has happened. I will deal with Khushi when she has sufficiently recovered from her ordeal. In the meantime, as punishment for going against our rules, I declare that we break up camp earlier than usual and leave for our travels in 3 days from today. As well as that, none of you are permitted to visit Madhumati's tent. In fact no one is to even go near her tent, not even if you are sick. Her daughter is fighting for her life and none will disturb her while she tends to her child. For all sicknesses, you may come to Tara, your Sardarni. The harshest punishment will be meted out to offenders. I hope I have made myself perfectly clear. With this concluded, the festivities may commence but there is to be no singing or dancing. Everyone is to leave after their meal."
Sardar finished his speech and waved a hand for the meal to be served. Through the course of the meal, he noted the relief in the people's eyes. They thought that they had got off lightly. He hoped that the illusion continued and none thought to look for Khushi. He looked around for Tara and catching her eye, motioned her to his side. Tara obeyed hesitantly. She was aware that he knew of her part in Khushi's rescue but had not said anything to her so far. She was pleased with his decision. It tied in with her plans to secure Khushi's safety.
"Tara, please see that everyone is ready to leave in 3 days. You yourself will assist Madhumati to collect her belongings and look out for her child. I will assign our son to drive her wagon. Please make sure that all loose ends are wrapped up from your end prior to our departure."
Concluding his conversation, Sardar looked at Tara intently, conveying a message through his eyes. His wife of many years received the message loud and clear. She was thankful that he had not demanded Khushi's whereabouts from her and that he trusted her judgement in looking out for the child.
The day before their departure, Tara visited her brother. He invited her inside and she looked in on Khushi. The girl was extremely pale and her breathing was shallow. Her brother told her that she had not woken up since Tara's son delivered her to him. Pressing batches of salve and other herbal medicines in his hand, Tara beseeched her brother to look after Khushi. Her brother was a soft spoken, childless widower. The unconscious and barely alive girl had touched a chord in him and he promised Tara that he would look after her and keep her safe from all harm. In return Tara told him everything about Khushi. It simply reinforced his decision to look after her and at the same time, made him aware of the people to keep the girl safe from.
Exactly five days since the tragedy that had befallen Khushi, the banjaara's broke their camp and left on their travels. A quiet Madhumati stayed in her wagon while Sardar's son drove it. She kept to herself, reinforcing the illusion that her child was extremely sick and in need of care.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………
2 days after the banjaara's left Devgarh, Arnav Singh Raizada cut short his business plans and came back to the palace. The night after he had visited Khushi's camp, a highly angry Arnav ordered his bags packed and left Devgarh back to Delhi. On his way, he had many meetings to attend. Ignoring his niggling conscience, Arnav concentrated on his meetings. He ruthlessly shut his emotions and set about attending meetings, finalizing deals and running Aman ragged in the process.
He existed purely on his burning anger and fury with Khushi. After all no one, absolutely no one dared to reject him! Not ever and not for anything. That little banjaaran didn't respect the honour he accorded her, buying her a mansion. He would have taken her under his protection, ensuring that her life would be in the lap of luxury. He didn't have to offer her that much. Didn't she know that? Even if he took her on the floor of the forest and sent her back afterwards, no one would dare to chastise him. But he had gone beyond that. Hell, he had waited for her instead of satisfying his desire that night in the forest. Damn the girl, he raged inwardly.
He managed to conclude the better part of his meetings halfway back to Delhi when he saw a slim girl with curly black hair in the hotel where he was staying. Her hair was not as long or wild as Khushi's but certain similarities struck him. His hands clenched in fists and the raging desire and longing for that little gypsy shook him to the core.
An hour later, a highly surprised Aman was on his way back to Delhi while Arnav started the long journey back to Dvevgarh, Rajasthan. On the way back, he swore and cursed inwardly, planning his next move on Khushi. He had half a mind to simply ride in and take her away with him. He would teach her a lesson, he decided. Nobody refused him!
It took his driver the better part of a day to drive back to Devgarh. It was a most unpleasant experience for him, what with the Maharaja breathing down his neck and it was nearly evening when the car turned in the gates of Devgarh.
The footman opened the door and Arnav bounded out, striding in to the around the palace and straight to the stables. He waved a stable boy over and within minutes, a saddled Sultan's reins were presented to him. Vaulting in the saddle, he galloped in the direction of the banjaara camp.
Some 10 minutes, Arnav surveyed the scene before him in bemusement. The place where the camp was supposed was clear of tents, corrals and all other things. There was no one in sight and the place itself was clean and neat. It was evident that the banjaara's had left.
"Unbelievable!" Arnav muttered under his breath. Wheeling Sultan around, he galloped back to the stables.
"Maan Singh," he roared as soon as he was back. The stable master Maan Singh rushed out, wondering what had happened.
"Hukum, is everything all right?" A pale and worried Maan Singh asked Arnav.
"Maan Singh, set one of your boys to find out where the banjaara's who camp on the west side on Devgarh have gone to. I want answers as soon as possible."
"Ji, ji Hukum."
A feeing of dread was replacing his earlier anger. Where had the banjaara's gone to? Didn't it appear that they had left earlier this year? Normally they stayed for another month but not this time. His emotions in a seething mess, he strode in to the palace.
Devyani and Mamta were surprised to see him join them for dinner. Surprised and pleased; they had been disappointed when he cut short his visit. But it was a highly uncommunicative Arnav who sat through dinner with them.
A day later, Maan Singh reported that the banjaara's had removed their tracks and it could be anywhere in the world they had gone to. Would Hukum like them to extend the search?
A few minutes later, an agitated Maan Singh left with strict instructions to continue searching for the banjaara's!
Chapter 16
3 weeks later and a whole month after the whole debacle, a no longer angry and very much worried Arnav got dressed for a visit to Thakur Alok Singh's stud farm. When no tracks were found of the banjaara's Arnav was surprised at first. As the days passed into weeks, he became worried. As his anger and ego cooled down, after all there was no trace of Khushi and her people so far and all his money and status couldn't solve that puzzle, he was beset with worries.
He wondered if the banjaara's would have organised Khushi's wedding. Was she married by now? Would her suitor have married her, even after Arnav's declarations?
Another thing was also taking place; his conscience was waking up. As his anger and ego took a back seat, as he was beset by fears and worries of the unknown, his conscience was fast waking up. He was doing his best to squash it but he was not very successful. Quite apart from the fact of his royalty, as a well brought up nobleman, he had been taught that men of his class never descended to talking about their womenfolk in public. Attractions and desires were not meant to be discussed in public and under no condition was a man to 'kiss and tell'. It was just not done, he knew.
Shaking his head, he came down the stairs. This visit to Thakur Alok's stud farm was business related. He had told his Dadi and Mother 2 weeks back that he and Naina would not suit at all and they had gently refused the marriage proposal that her father had brought. Even though Alok was Naina's uncle, the relation between them was too old to be marred with refusal of a marriage proposal. He had to discuss about putting his mares in stud with Alok's prized Marwari stallion.
Going in search of his mother before he left, Arnav came across Devyani and Mamta in the spacious and private sitting room that the ladies of his house preferred to spend their time in. Decorated in a pale blue and yellow with luxurious furniture and facing a garden, it was the perfect place for them to relax. But today they were not alone.
Devyani was sitting while one of the house maids, Champa was there. Champa was sobbing in her dupatta while Mamta stood next to her, consoling the girl. When he knocked the door, they all looked up.
"Stop crying Champa," Mamta told the girl as she dried her tears and helping the girl to arrange her dupatta carefully, she sent the maid away.
"Yes Chhote, come in," Devyani said once Champa was gone.
"What was all that about? Arnav queried the ladies. Devyani answered him:
"Champa went to the stables to deliver some parcel for Maan Singh and one of the horse trainers attempted to assault her. He pulled her in the tack room and pulled her dupatta away when Maan Singh came and intervened. He sent Champa inside and dismissed the trainer. I wish Maan Singh had not dismissed that misbegotten person. I would have enjoyed telling him a few things about women and their honour. In fact I think I'll get Maan Singh to bring him in to me so that I can do so."
Devyani was looking extremely angry and Arnav shook his head.
"Oh come on Dadi. Forget it. What's with these girls and honour anyway. Nothing happened and that's it."
"CHHOTE!!!"
Arnav nearly jumped at the loud voice. He turned around and saw a very rare sight. Mamta Raizada was angry. Her beautiful face was flushed with anger and she was literally shaking. And more than that, she appeared angry with Arnav; that was a rare sight indeed.
"Ma?"
"Is that what I have taught you Chhote? I don't think so. I'm very sure I taught you differently. Regardless of her class, maharani or daasi, every woman's honour is equally important. Or is it that along with acquiring an English education, you abandoned these values of ours back in England and America? I'm very disappointed in you. In future when we are not around, is it that the maids in this house will not be able to approach you with their woes? Is it that you won't take any action against such men? Please remember Chhote, no woman's honour is to be trifled with."
His mother's words had the precision of arrows which embedded in his chest. While Mamta chastised him about his careless words, Arnav recalled his own words, uttered in anger that night in the banjaara camp. Dimly he was aware that Mamta had stopped speaking but appeared angry still. He looked at Devyani and was not surprised to see a similar expression of her face. Clearing his throat, he said softly,
"Please forgive me Maa and Dadi. Indeed I forgot these important things. Rest assured I'll speak to Maan Singh and deal with that trainer myself. This will not happen again. Please assure the female staff that they are safe and secure while in our employ."
His apology was accepted with curt nods. He took his leave of the ladies and deep in thought, walked to the car. On his way to Thakur Alok's, many things ran in his mind…………..
"Hamara khandaan Kshatriya dharam ka palan karta hain. Yaad rakhna Chhote, eik Kshatriya ka dharam hain hifazat karna. Eik Kshatriya ki talwar kabhi kisi nihatte par nahi uthti. Uski talwar kabhi kisi galat kaam ke liye nahi uthti. Uski talwar jab bhi uthe gi to hifazat karne ke liye. Hamesha sach ke kiye uthe gi. Eik Kshatriya ka dharam ye bhi kehta hai ke hifazat ke sabse bade haqdar aurat zaat hai. Jab bhi kisi aurat ki izzat ki baat hogi, uski talwar zaroor uthe gi. Eik Kshatriya ke jaante huwe kisi aurat ki izzat par aanch nahi aaani chahiye. Warna wo Kshatriya ki talwar, uski dharam sab bekaar hai. Wo Kshatriya eik khsatriya aur mard kehlane ke layak nahi."
Translation:
"Our family follows the Kshatriya (warrior) religion and code of conduct. Remember Chhote, a Kshatriya's religion is to protect. His sword never rises on a weapon less person. His sword never rises for any wrong purpose. Whenever his sword will be raised, it will be to protect. Always for the truth. A Kshatriya's religion also says that there is none whose right to protection is greater than a woman's. Whenever it's a question of any lady's honour, his sword will definitely rise. In a Kshatriya's knowledge, no lady's honour should be tarnished. Otherwise that Kshatriya's sword and his religion are useless. That Kshatriya has no right to call himself a Kshatriya and a man."
Those words were the ones his mother had told him the day he had been going for his first lesson in swordplay. His father had stood aside, ready to tutor his son while Dadi and Anjali had looked on as his mother said those words to him. As a child he had firmly believed in those words. But as he grew up, he moved on and away from these sentiments. Not just these but many more others like these as well.
With his mother's stinging reminders ringing in his ears, Arnav winced as Khushi came to mind. He shouldn't have done that. He should never have said those words, flinging the intimacies she had allowed him in to that public debacle. She had not deserved it. Hell, she had not deserved his cheap proposal either. Just because she was a banjaara didn't mean that he could view her cheaply. Her honour was important to her. As it should be. But he had punished her for those same sentiments. If someone had made a similar offer to his sister, he would have killed them with his bare hands. Not only had he tarnished her reputation, she was innocent to boot. She had only allowed him a few kisses and no more than that. He had taken unjust advantage of his position the way he had ridden in the banjaara camp. Those people were dependent on him for his largesse. He had abused his position. Not even his father had ever done the things that Arnav had. In fact his father was a saint compared to Arnav himself. His only crime was that he had not loved his wife. He respected her but he didn't love her. Instead he kept a mistress but no one knew about her. He had certainly never made public the identity of his mistress.
Arnav had always been close to his mother. He of all people should have understood what she had tried to always tell him. The old ways belonged in the past. Status didn't matter. Love, honour and respect mattered. The kind of lifestyle his father had had spoiled 2 women's lives; his wife and mistress both. The wife was bereft of love while the mistress was bereft of honour. Change with the times was necessary. There was no way he couldn't have married Khushi. In fact that was what he should have done. He closed hos eyes in despair when he wondered what his mother, dadi and sister's reaction would be when they found out what he had done. Now more than ever, it was necessary that he find Khushi and make amends. It was imperative that he do so. But where to look for her?
It was the chauffeur opening his door that brought him out of his reverie. Arnav sighed and fixing his social mask in place, he alighted out of the car. Thakur Alok Singh was waiting to receive his illustrious guest.
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