Taken aback, Heera turned to her side, her gazes combing the lengths of the bank walls. And there it was. Not far from where she stood hung the outline of, what had to be, a rustic rope ladder - and the very reason why the stranger had aborted his rescue mission at this location. Also, the reason for his annoyance, since he must have assumed that she preferred childishly clinging onto him rather than utilising the ladder for support.
Nevertheless, she'd understood the reason behind his 'unusual' behaviour. So, before she left, she let the man know that she wasn't all that 'crazy' either! 'No... I am not bizarre...' her features flaunted their usual calmness, as she faced the Persian saviour 'But, I am blind...' she paused 'Actually, I am partially blind!'
'What?' he sneered, inferring her remark was a taunt of some sort. His stares turned colder and warier, as he studied the face of the lady, who was dressed in the garb of a maid 'You are lying... blind people cannot look you in the eye...'
'I can look you in the eye because I have partial sight...' the heiress corrected him, unruffled by his suspicions. She was used to people reacting to her handicap in this manner before 'Things around me appear hazy and blurred... but, those that are directly in front of my eyes, I can see...'
'What?' he felt compelled to take a step back.
Watching his reaction, Heera reined in a half-smile. Funny how their unusual circumstances were making her innocent actions and words sound dubious - so much so that the mighty stranger was left feeling uneasy in the presence of her petite self 'That is why I can't swim in fast currents... or notice objects like the rope ladder hanging there!' finished with what she had to say, the lady began making her way out
Unmoved, the stranger's stares remained just as cold - even if they were less guarded now 'Go ahead then... there it is...' he said, making a poor effort to sound kinder, before turning around to get on with his work 'All the more reason... not to be out, alone... near a canal, when its flood gates have been opened...' he griped to himself, as he hoisted up one side of the footbridge 'And those darned horse thieves... vandalised the bridge again!'
The heiress had heard his passing remarks, but let it go. She didn't owe him a clarification for 'why' she was out alone - and anyway, he didn't care for one either. Rather, she resolved to get out of that canal, without further delay.
Freshly armed with a subtle confidence to face those furious water currents single-handedly, Heera pinned her fingers into the crevices to avoid slipping. Gradually inching along the wet wall, she stopped when the ladder came directly above her field of vision.
Determined; the young lady then held onto its bottom rung and heaved herself up one level. However, the ropes were unfixed and not surprisingly, they began swivelling - making the endeavour quite a challenge - especially for one with limited vision. Telling herself 'Only 5 more levels to go' she kept at it for as long as it took her to climb up to the second rung.
Having noticed her scuffles from his spot, an agitated sigh eventually slipped out of his lips. His young life had witnessed a lot, and he'd rarely ever reacted with anything other than indifference to all of it. Somehow though, a 16 year old's dignified approach towards her disability and struggles, had caught his apathy off guard!
'Stay still' he suddenly ordered
Heeding her instincts, she complied with the order and waited - despite being cornered into an uncomfortable position, as a result
A glint of metal bolted through the air.
Followed by, another.
Heera observed the outcome.
With frightful accuracy, a knife had landed beside her right palm, its blade wedged deep into the brick wall. A few calculated feet above, another knife had landed, in similar fashion. What did he expect her to do? Use their handles for additional support? Surely, they couldn't be stable enough to bear her weight - what with the unrealistic angle, he'd thrown them from.
Curious, she gave the knife a good shake. But it budged not a bit, almost as though it'd been soldered into the wall. Satisfied and impressed, Heera gripped the handle on her right, and then the one above her, both proving to be better supports than the ladder itself - thus making her steady ascent to the top.
No sooner than she stood on steady ground, the heiress straightened her veil and then turned around to gauge the heights that she had scaled. Her lungs were still panting for air, but her heart was filling up with a strange sense of achievement. After all, she'd just accomplished a feat that she'd never done before.
Hoping to thank the stranger for his support, her glances trailed towards his outline. But she could make out that the man was busy - In one swift jump, he'd caught onto the ladder using his left fist, while his right fist dislodged the knives consecutively. Slipping both blades into holders that hung beside his cummerbund, he landed back in the canal to complete the temporary repairs.
The 16 year old thought better of it and decided to reserve her gratitude for another day, for another time - if it ever came. Thus, picking up a branch, she commenced her journey in the direction of the guest house.
Barely few strides on, and Heera stopped in her tracks - she recalled how she'd done something else that she hadn't done lately.
Sometime earlier, she had almost smiled.
Her mind blank at first, feelings of bewilderment slowly started seeping in, succeeded by a pang of regret. She looked up to the dark skies, wondering what could have made her momentarily overlook her current frame of mind 'How? And why?' she asked herself the question, over and over. But ultimately, the only explanation she found was a vague one, which she settled for 'By seeking some peace, you wanted to forget about your problems briefly Heera... instead, a temporary spell of distraction helped you achieve that!'
The guest house...
In near disbelief, he continued to peer on - observing the sights to their left, then the right, then ahead and far beyond. When the Kotwal had informed him that a rich travelling party were going to be renting the guest quarters, he hadn't expected this! Many a guest had his haveli seen in its long history, but never before did he remember the residence undergoing such a wondrous transformation - and that too, within such a short period of time.
Apparently, the maids had taken it upon themselves to revive its interiors from a state of neglect, restoring some of its former glory too. Old pieces of furniture had been aesthetically reorganised in accordance with their manager's directions, thus creating space for several shiny new trunks. Cobwebs had been brushed off many walls. Dust was being wiped off the surfaces. A series of lamps had effectively lit up any dark corners, while the fragrance of neem leaves was doing away with both, the insects and the dampness.
So foreign to him were these sights and smells that reflected Hindu traditions, and yet, so much more welcoming did the place feel than it had, in years!
'It is unrecognisable' he beamed widely 'It looks alive!'
'The Kotwal helped us in... thank you for letting us stay here...' Ratan kaka spoke for his people, addressing the old man, who seemed to be too engrossed with the changes to strike up a conversation anytime soon.
Of course, the manager wasn't certain which of the four men facing him were the owners of the mansion. But because the elderly man - who called himself as 'chacha jaan' - had the friendliest face of the lot, kaka directed his attention towards him.
'You're welcome...' chacha jaan finally nodded, his quirky mannerisms and wrinkly smiles making him look older than his age - especially since his three other companions were smartly dressed youths who appeared to be in their twenties 'Ibrahim Mirza, Sayyid Baig, and Azeez Shah' they'd introduced themselves as, with a Mughal adaab, soon after they'd arrived at the reception room
Needless to say, the unexpected arrival of unfamiliar men had sent the maids scampering towards a corridor, seeking the seclusion of two pillars for some privacy. However, those pillars didn't stop them from being a curious audience to the unfolding scenes, even if they had to lean over each other's shoulders to do so.
Bindiya, on the other hand, managed to sustain a facade of diplomacy - what with her friend Dhani constantly reminding her of how she was still playing an aristocrat. So, from behind a wall of guards, she quietly observed the two parties exchanging formalities.
'It's very late now... and you all have travelled far...' chacha jaan continued 'I can arrange to have some food sent over tomorrow... for your noon meals...'
'Thank you Sahib...' Maharaj kaka took over 'But, unfortunately... we are in mourning now...' his voice dropped low 'And our baisa is fasting... so... grateful as we are for the offer, we cannot accept it!'
The old man understood 'What about the guards, then?'
'Y... yes...' the cook supposed 'They might be happy to partake of your meals tomorrow...'
'I'll send over some hot Zaffrani Pilaf then...' chacha jaan was quick to announce - and with a hint of pride that was unmissable
'Pilaf?' the guards' eyes widened in anticipation. Already fatigued from the journey, mental images of a dish they knew the Mughals were famous for only made them crave it more.
Alas, their anticipations were to be quashed soon. For, they noticed an odd stir amongst the party of owners thereafter.
The man who went by the name 'Ibrahim' had tugged the chacha to one side, after which, they all seemed to converse in code
'Are you going to offer them YOUR pilaf, chacha jaan?'
'Of course!' chacha replied with a wink, as if he were doing the guests who'd impressed him, a great favour
As Azeez gestured 'Ya Allah... please spare them!', Gokul and Bajrang's suspicions only compounded
Of course, Bindiya had noticed none of the unusual exchanges.
Therefore, in an enthusiasm so typical of her, she chose to dispel the silence by thanking the old man for his gesture, presuming Harka baisa would have done the same if she were here 'It is so nice to meet someone as kind and hospitable as you, chacha sahib... especially, after the bitter experience we've had!'
The four men glimpsed at each other's faces, puzzled
'Why, sahiba?'
'What bitter experience did you have?'
'We were running out of drinking water and we met a stranger on the way...' Bindiya let herself grow increasingly animated 'Imagine our horror when he charged us exorbitantly for a bag of water... how could anyone behave so mean?'
'Ibrahim...'
A commanding baritone from the corridors, muffled all chatter and murmurs in the busy room. Ibrahim, Sayyid and Azeez dropped whatever they'd been doing, their shoulders stiffening in respect, while chacha's jovial temperament changed into something mellower.
'Behave so MEAN?'
There was a pause
'Now that is the THIRD time someone from their group has called me that!'
Through the grand archway a shadow emerged, which thereupon morphed into the man-behind-the-voice himself.
For a while, none of the guests said anything. They couldn't. For, the man-behind-the-voice had just stunned them into a prolonged spell of speechlessness.
'HE is the stranger... the one who charged us 4 dams for a bag of water!' Bindiya yelped, recognising the voice as soon as she'd recovered from the shock. She noticed how his expressions were just as unkind as his attitude - even the wet locks did nothing to soften the sternness in his frowns 'But, what's HE doing here?' she demanded, disregarding all of Dhani's ploys to get her to stay quiet
Having offered him an adaab, Ibrahim waited till he'd received the man's signal before proceeding to answer the lady's questions 'Oh... sahiba...' he tied his hands behind his back, like every bit the gentleman he was 'The haveli that you're staying at... the stables where your horses are parked... the canal from which you just fetched your water... and the lands as far as your eyes can see... belong to a very eminent horse merchant called Akbar Mahmoud Khan...'
'Ask ANYONE in these regions who Khan Sahib is, and they shall tell you!' Sayyid pitched in, his manner not as cordial as Ibrahim's - his simple mind didn't allow him to jest with anyone who'd spoken of his sahib so rudely!
'W...what?' she cupped her mouth in horror, the facts beginning to dawn upon her
'Sahiba!' Azeez smirked at her reaction, before indicating towards the 'stranger' 'That's him! Akbar Mahmoud Khan Sahib!'
And as though the terrifying developments hadn't mortified her enough already, the maid committed the subsequent mistake of peeking through her veil to get a better look at the man. The silent fury in those red eyes forced her to swallow back a nervous lump 'Ma Bhavani!' she exclaimed, on the verge of breaking down into tears 'What have I done!'
Another chamber... elsewhere in the guest quarters...
Once the third cord of her choli had been twisted into a neat knot, Heera gently flung the long lengths of her damp tresses behind her shoulders. Leaning back upon the low chaise, she let the bevy of maids flurrying around her, carry on with their tasks. As one lady held her locks out to dry, another one deftly brushed out its tangles with her fingers. Simultaneously, Gauri picked up the brass dhoop holder, and waved its fumes below the tresses - hoping its smoke would ward off any evil eye and its warmth fight off all nasty diseases
'I still fail to understand...' the chief maid resumed the subject that hadn't been resolved so far 'What was the need to wander off? You should have seen the uproar the guards raised, when they couldn't find you in the gardens or in the meadows...'
'I was preoccupied... lost...' she replied
'By the way... what made you decide to swim at such an ungodly hour?'
'Swimming? I said I went for a dip...' she corrected - and did it so smoothly that the tone tricked all the maids into believing her story. Well, all her maids, but one!
'A dip?' Gauri asked, closely observing Heera's reactions in the mirror - but before she could probe any further, the other maids had chipped in
'We were so worried, baisa...'
'We thought you'd been kidnapped!'
Heera let out a deep breath 'I realise I have put you all through a lot of trouble... please excuse my reckless actions...' She might have bluffed about the reasons for her prolonged absence, but the remorse she felt was earnest. Even if only unintentional, she had caused them plenty of worry 'I'll take care not to be so negligent again...'
'Baisa!' the maids protested in unison, taken aback by their mistress' unexpected plea 'You shouldn't be apologising to us...'
'We were concerned... that's all...'
'We promise not to ask you any more questions about this...'
'Thank you...' she appreciated their sentiments
However, Gauri remained unconvinced. As she set aside the dhoop holder and began plaiting the lengths into a loose braid, many doubts lingered in her mind. Well, the Harka Bai, who was seated upon that chaise now, somehow appeared less demoralised than the Harka Bai who'd left the haveli a short while ago. And she couldn't help but wonder what had brought about that change?
Nevertheless, since the changes in her mistress were positive, Gauri decided to let it go.
'I am sorry for lying to you, my friend'
Another quiet apology had just passed through Heera's guilt-stricken mind. She didn't even need to look Gauri in the eye to perceive her thoughts and suspicions - she could just tell it from the 'different' way her braids were being plaited.
Nevertheless, there was nothing she could do about the situation - this was one incident, she was going to keep secret.
After all, the entire scenario at the canal bank had been too strange. Too inexplicable. When even SHE couldn't make sense of something so mystifying, she didn't expect her ladies to fathom it. Firstly, they would be furious when they learnt that their heiress had nearly drowned. Furthermore, they would be mortified if they found out that their precious baisa - whom no outsider had even laid eyes upon, so far - had been dragged ashore and stranded beside a Mughal stranger for more than a few moments.
Of course, Heera was pragmatic enough to accept that it was a chance encounter under very grave circumstances. But, others wouldn't be able to brush off the incident so casually - not even Gauri.
Thus, this was going to be one incident, she was going to keep secret.
'C... called you 'mean'... for the th... third time? I... I ... don't understand... we've only met twice!' stuttered Ratan kaka, anxiously seeking an answer to a doubt that was, in fact, running through everyone's mind
'Shall I?' Ibrahim enquired - but the businessman held his palm up to stop him. He wanted to do the honours of enlightening the confused group himself now
'I can recognise my horses anywhere...' Akbar Khan announced with a calm frigidness, that made his tone sound all the more intimidating 'The horse that was riding at the front of your group, in the forest... is a cross-breed... a Marwari racer...' giving them a moment to recall the particular steed being referred to, he continued 'It comes from my stables... my man sold it at a horse fair 2 weeks ago... and then, reported back... informing me, how the buyers had insulted his 'Sahib' after the auction!'
'WHAT!' The Parnagarhis froze in their spots, the colour draining away from their faces. They'd barely recouped from the previous shock, when the next blow had arrived, hitting them even harder than before. Their luck HAD to be cursed! For, who would have thought that the very 'Sahib' they'd taunted and ridiculed at the horse fair, would be the one laying down the law, two weeks later?
Having finished what he had to convey, the businessman cast a hurried glimpse at the freshened interiors of the room they were standing in. Evidently, this retinue knew how to make themselves comfortable wherever they went. Thence, the man who wasn't fond of pointlessly loitering around, cast his companions a glance that signalled 'They have everything they need... so, let's get going...'
Not too bothered by the brazenness of their master, the three men shadowed him.
Nonetheless, chacha did make it a point to extend the group an awkward smile and a parting adaab before turning around to leave 'Khuda Hafiz...'
'I... we...' Ratan kaka managed to find his voice in the nick of time 'Pardon us for the misunderstandings caused...' it was a poor attempt to make amends, but it was an attempt regardless - so the owner wouldn't show them the door. They desperately needed the place for the next few days! 'Thank you for renting us your quarters... very graceful of you!'
Slowing his pace, the businessman nodded in acknowledgement, with his back still to the group.
Just as he was about to resume his strides thereafter, something lying beside his feet caught everyone's attention. A small coin-pouch of some sort, possibly dropped by one of the ladies.
Using one end of his horse-whip, Akbar casually picked the pouch up and tossed it over to his mates. Caught by Azeez with just as much flair, the purse was then handed over to the manager
'Must belong to their Sahiba...' the merchant declared, emphasising on the word 'Sahiba' with striking irony.
A moment later, he'd disappeared through the arches, off to his own haveli for the night, and the remaining men followed suit.
Still in relative disbelief, Ratan kaka gaped at the pouch in his hand and then in the direction of the now empty passageways - not knowing whether he must feel relieved that the owner hadn't thrown them out yet, frightened of what else to expect during their 4 day stay there, or concerned about how an already-perturbed heiress would take to the latest developments.
A short while later...
'Baisa...'
'Harka baisa...'
'BAISAAA...'
They nudged her hand, when their calls weren't being responded to
'Oh ladies... please give me a moment' she shushed them gently, buying herself some more 'thinking' time. It wasn't long since the frantic maids had come barging into her chamber and bombarded her with a slew of startling news. The reality was still sinking in, word by word, bit by bit. 'Khan Sahib?' she muttered under her breath, once again 'The horse merchant?'
Truth be told, the fact that the lone traveller belonged to this area was something she had already guessed. Even the fact that he was the owner of the haveli, didn't astonish her much. After all, they did meet him in a forest not far from here. Neither did he need a map when giving directions, nor was he was a stranger to the local thugs. Besides, he seemed very familiar with his way around the canal too.
It was the fact that he turned out to be the owner of the auction horse that had left her speechless. And despite the ladies calling this unexpected connection with the merchant as an 'ill-fated coincidence', Heera thought differently.
Somehow or the other, it was Khan Sahib's horse that'd turned out to be jiji's most cherished purchase - the pet with which she enjoyed her best moments in life! It was also this very Marwari racer that had managed to dodge Khalil's men and warn her about the attack, thus fulfilling jiji's last wishes.
Then, how could she label such a connection, as ill-fated?
'Baisa...'
'Why aren't you saying anything?'
'We thought you'd be shocked by everything we had to say, but you don't even look alarmed!' they groaned, their patience wearing thin. With such feverish enthusiasm had they narrated every portion of the encounter - not one word had they missed, not one expression overlooked. The least they'd expected from her was gasps and wide-eyes. Instead, here was their mistress, lost in thought, musing to herself.
'BAISAAA'
'All right... all right...' she relented, drawn away from her thoughts. Nearly amused by how disappointed they appeared at the absence of shock on her face, Heera came up with a vague justification for her state of mind 'I'm still assimilating the news... probably too many things, too soon...'
'Why does he behave so strangely?'
'And rudely?'
'Is that how he is? Or is it because of what happened at the auction?'
'Not sure...' the young lady nodded. She knew not what to make of the merchant's attitude, except that he did not like company or crowd 'But, why worry? We don't plan to stay here for long... '
'Baisa...'
It was a low and desolate whine that everyone in the room instantly recognised. Standing all alone, since no one was paying her much heed, Bindiya uttered sadly 'Please pardon me for having caused such trouble...'
'Trouble?' retorted Gauri, who'd grown tired of the maid's never-ending excuses 'Because of you... we've had to suffer enough... it was my mistake that I gave in when you begged to play the role of a 'baisa', but NEVER again would I let you take on such responsibilities again!'
'I... I am sorry...' she wiped a tear. But, no one was listening
'You never keep a check on your emotions...'
'Your misbehaviour could've had serious consequences!'
'Besides... you're still wearing baisa's clothes...' reminded Dhani, worsening the blow to her conscience by making her realise the true extent of her folly 'So, the merchant and his men must be assuming that it's Harka baisa passing such remarks!'
'Oh my Lord!' the maid's face blanched in shame, afflicted by a fresh pang of anguish. Every other blunder she'd committed paled in comparison to the crime of disgracing her mistress' name. Plonking down on the floor, she sat near Heera's feet 'I am so sorry... never again shall I be adamant about playing the role of a baisa... I now realise it's not just about wearing beautiful silk attires!'
'Well...' the heiress locked her fingers together on her lap, like she did before every verdict she was about to announce 'Bindiya, what the ladies say, is true... I can't afford to take that risk again... if necessary, someone else will have to take up this responsibility for the rest of the journey...' Heera watched, like a doting sister, how a fresh surge of tears lined the lashes of her pretty maid 'But it is the idea of wearing this silk dress that tempted you in the first place...' she paused 'So, you may keep this dress for yourself... I know how much you love it!'
The young maid looked up, unable to believe how kind a woman Her Ladyship was. Leaping forward in an emotional spurt, Bindiya hugged her legs in gratitude 'I will set matters straight with Khan sahib and I will ask for his forgiveness... I promise...'
'Really?' she enquired, uncertain if Bindiya had it in her to do so
'Yes!'
'But then...' interrupted Dhani 'Aren't you worried about facing him, Bindu? What if he punishes you?'
'Of course, I am worried! He is scary and mean...' Bindiya shut her mouth when she caught herself uttering the forbidden word, again 'Sorry... I... I... mean... I mean... despite being a Moghul, he was blessed by God with such beauty... if only God had given the man a kinder tongue too!' realising what she'd blurted, the maid bit her tongue in embarrassment, a moment later
Following a short lull, a wave of hush smiles rippled through the chamber
'Such beauty?'
'What do you mean?' asked one maid mischievously
Feeling sheepish, the maid wiped her eyes dry and waited for Heera's permission to continue. And when she finally received the nod, it raised the ladies' spirits. So relieved were they to see that their heiress had not chosen to walk away from such chatter and gossip now - something she'd been doing ever since the demise of Durga baisa - that their enthusiasm became evident.
'Tell baisa too...'
'She wants to hear about it!' they goaded. Obviously, everyone in that chamber had assumed that Heera wouldn't understand why they were so excited - because, they'd assumed she would not have seen the man's handsome face. If only they knew the truth!
'Go on!'
'All right...' Bindiya sat up, prepared to become Harka bai's eyes once again. The artist in her, spent a good few moments recalling his features so she could detail them accurately - a feat this maid was exceptionally good at. And a quality that Heera found very useful whenever she needed to identify a person she hadn't seen clearly enough
Hereby, I commence my narration
About a man, who by trade, was a businessman,
A deal he struck with the Lord in Heaven
And was bestowed with good looks in the bargain!
With features sharper than a sword's blade
And wet long locks of a deep brown shade,
His skin possessed the fairest of complexions
But in the mirror of his eyes, I saw a stormy reflection!
The responses that'd started off as hush smiles, grew into friskier grins with every passing line.
The heiress, on the other hand, was able to maintain better composure than the rest - though that didn't stop her thoughts from straying back to the encounter. Incidentally recalling the face she'd seen, her mind compared his features with the maid's poetic descriptions - and was left pleasantly surprised. Bindiya was describing the man very well indeed!
'Ahem... Ahem...' came Gauri's sudden interruption in the form of a loud fake-cough 'It is past midnight! We have plenty to do!'
The abrupt ploy was effective. It dampened the jovial mood, bringing everyone back to reality in no time.
As the first one to take the cue, Heera immediately added 'Yes, Gauri...' she stood up, prepared to leave 'I have several issues to attend to tomorrow morning...'
After a dull pause, the maids reluctantly tucked in their veils, before dispersing to return to their nightly routine. How disappointing that their chief-maid was being such a spoilsport!
Gauri watched their unhappy faces in silence
'You might be annoyed with me now... but, I only did what I had to!'
And no, it wasn't the descriptions or the maids' crimson-tinged grins that had urged her to stop the chatter. It was the sight of Heera's eyes that had made her do it. For the first time since the tragedy, the Lady's sullen eyes were beginning to brighten - beginning to show a sign of interest in something.
Had the reasons for her mistress' brightened-eyes been anything else, she would have been the happiest person on Earth. However, if conversations about an unfamiliar merchant - that too, a Mughal merchant - were the reason behind that change, it spelled trouble.
As it is, Harka baisa's petite shoulders were carrying the burden of many tragic hardships. And the 16 year old still had numerous responsibilities to fulfil. An added misery of turmoil and heartache was something she could definitely do without, at this point.
(Glossary of terms included in post below)
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