Pavan hurried home to tell his family the news. As a clerk at the accounts department, he led a fairly mundane life. In comparison, today was huge. The atmosphere at the Panchayat meeting was charged. He had joined his colleagues for a post-Panchayat analysis to keep the excitement going. What began as a general debate about the new administration, soon turned technical.
‘Since Magadha and Kalinga now come under the same King, would there still be a border tax?’ A tax official posed this question.
‘Of course, it would be still there - the administration is separate!’ chipped in one of the veterans.
‘No way, how can it be justified !’ retorted another
Pavan could follow thus far, but they then went even further.
‘The ferry charges for small rivers in Magadha are 2 copper coins for transporting merchandise. I hear that they are 3 copper coins in Kalinga. See the difference. Consider the difference in labor cost as well. They will align the prices in both places. Take my word for it, the cost of goods is set to rise…’ one of the taxmen said , reading out his recent calculations.
‘No, No, you missed… ‘ said another and there was a heated debate.
So much detail bored Pavan and he wasn’t able to chip in. He had made an attempt
‘King PriamRaja will need to be careful. Some of Magadha’s policies are different from his… Ha ha ha…’
But they had ignored him. Feeling left out here, he thought maybe he could share the excitement at home instead.
The door was open; leaving his slippers outside, he entered. He smiled to himself as he called out to his wife.
‘Lata, the war is over. We have a new King, King PriamRaja.’
No response.
He looked into the bedrooms. Empty!
Puzzled, he opened the back door.
His mother-in-law was busy in the kitchen and his daughter was playing alongside.
‘Meera, where is your mother?’
‘Did you bring candy?’ asked Meera as she ran up to him.
‘Uh...huh’.
‘Lata and Maya went out’ His mother in law informed him.
‘Boutique aunty had sent a message saying we lost the war and she wanted to discuss urgent business with aunt Maya. So mother and aunt Maya left in a hurry’ Meera chipped in.
‘I see..’ Pavan said, feeling a little deflated at not having been the news bearer.
‘Would you like some buttermilk?’ his Mother-in-law asked.
He gave a dejected nod and went back in.
It was a while before Lata and Maya returned. Sensing her husband’s mood, Lata joined him and plied him with questions about the new development. His face lit up and he spoke with animation. Lata had heard most of it already, but she enjoyed seeing Pavan’s excitement and feigned ignorance.
Maya watched them for a few moments, then headed back to her room. She had a lot to think about.
It was now 5 years since Maya had made Gangapur her home. Chunar had been home until the age of 20. The circumstances of her leaving home had not been pleasant. Her childhood had been idyllic with an indulgent father and loving mother. She had attended a few years of school at one of the ashrams in Chunar. There she had discovered her aptitude for tailoring. Her mother had encouraged her to train professionally by working as an apprentice in a nearby boutique. Life had been smooth sailing until the day she was told to marry Deependra, their neighbor, and she had refused.
She was blamed for everything , from being ungrateful for all the love and affection she had received from him , to a lack of community spirit. It was true - He had been affectionate. She had known him since she was 10, when his family moved into the neighborhood. He was 5 years older and treated her with indulgence, buying her sweets and trinkets. Deependra’s mother Kamala Devi was a kind lady and often invited her home. Maya had spent hours there, eating and playing.
Sadly, childhood is not a period of objective evaluation and careful choices. Those who treat us with affection are not analyzed for their virtues, vices or intent. How do you judge someone when you have so many happy memories with them?
But at 20, she had begun to see more. Deependra had never been a bright or able individual, but when coupled with laziness and ambition for wealth and power, his life slowly began to decay. Outwardly he was still the same caring person - running errands for the family, taking his mother to the doctor - but the core was hollow. One day she saw him accepting a bribe, it was just the beginning of her discoveries. Slowly, she began to see his life of dissipation - drinking , gambling and ‘other’ pleasures. She was sure her parents must not have been blind to all this, and so she was shocked when her mother brought his proposal of marriage.
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Aunt Kamala was very keen on the marriage. She knew of her son’s waywardness and hoped that marriage to Maya would reform him, or at least shift the burden and blame away from herself. Once they were married, she could give Maya a hint to control him better, and that would be the end of her guilt of raising him poorly.
And so Aunt Kamala’s eagerness for the match Maya understood, but for her own mother to endorse the suggestion, she felt betrayed. All Maya’s friends had been married at 15, while Maya had been busy honing her tailoring skills. Most of her friends had children by now, so she understood her mother’s worries, but was she really THIS desperate? What ensued was daily arguments, 2 months of silence and bitterness. Her father was at the end of his tether. Finally, hope came in the form of Aunt Malti, her mother’s sister.
Aunt Malti’s daughter, Lata, had got married to Pavan and moved to Gangapur. After her husband’s death, Aunt Malti too moved to Gangapur. On hearing about the sorry state of affairs at her sister’s house, Aunt Malti suggested that Maya come to Gangapur and live with them. There was a boutique in their neighborhood , and Maya being so accomplished in designing and stitching clothes could easily find employment. An arrangement had been worked out on nominal boarding expenses, and everything was soon settled.
Out of sight, the gossip and bitterness soon died down and Maya’s parents went back to a peaceful life. 2 years after leaving Chunar, she had heard that Deependra got married. Deeming it safe , she had then started visiting Chunar once in a year.
Life was strange. She had thought that the uncertainty and insecurity in her life was long past, that she was now in control of her life. And here she was 5 years later, just as uncertain , just as vulnerable and with the same choice before her - Where did her future lie? Chunar or Gangapur?
Her room was fairly small, but the highlight were its large windows. She loved the slice of nature that they brought into her room. She stared outside, it was the hour of dusk. Maya had less than a day to decide.
The sound of laughter reached her ears and Maya turned around. Through the door, she watched the cozy domestic scene - Meera was playing in the living room while her parents were smiling and looking on indulgently. This template of domesticity was what most parents wanted for their children, certainly her parents did. And if she was honest with herself, Maya had yearned for such a life for so long. Though the picture was attractive , Maya often wondered how sturdy their bond was. Would it endure a chronic illness? She often observed that they lived beyond their means, would their marriage endure an unsteady income?
If Maya returned to Chunar, no doubt she would have to marry soon and have a similar uncertain relationship. But staying in Gangapur held its own challenges. She would have to live alone. ALONE - The word weighed heavily on her. She had always dreaded being alone, it was her worst fear. And then, the memories slowly came.
It had been about a year since Maya had moved to Gangapur. The adjustment and demands of work had taken their toll and Maya fell sick. For nearly a month she had been bed-ridden. She had got her regular meals from Aunt Malti, but that had been all.
‘Oh dear, you need to take rest’
‘Hope you are well today’.
With these platitudes, they left her on her own. No one bothered to consult a doctor. It was akin to offering a meal to a person who needed a job,the giver may feel self-satisfied with her act of charity, but the receiver’s problem still remained.
Would they behave the same way if Meera was sick? I suppose since I am older I am expected to fend for myself. Such thoughts filled Maya and she fumed internally.
Left with no other choice , she had prayed incessantly. Her sickness disappeared in a month. It was this moment that she turned into a believer, the presence of a higher power gave her the security she needed.
The illness had its uses - it made her humble and shed light on the strength of her relationships. But the illness also made her emotional, sometimes blind. All her arguments against Lata while she had been sick were true, but only now that the remembered pain had mellowed could she acknowledge that perhaps she had not considered the whole truth.
Lata was only 6 years older than herself, and perhaps no more knowledgeable than Maya on the subject of medicine. She and her husband were not people who had struggled in life and wisened through their experiences, they were just letting life carry them along. Meera was their responsibility and as a child, she was helpless. Beyond the emotional bond of a parent, it was their duty to take care of Meera, but they had no such duty toward Maya. And to be fair to them, there is only so much burden that anyone can take on. How much would Maya be able to do if the positions were reversed?
And then there was this niggling doubt, perhaps Lata wasn’t comfortable with the attention Pavan sometimes gave Maya. Lata’s greatest treasure was her stable married life, who could blame her for wanting to protect it? This analysis didn’t make her feel more at home in Lata’s house, but at least it took away the bitterness. And honestly, to be able to excuse someone’s unkindness as a human frailty, that too was a divine gift.
Maybe this was the right time to part amicably. Maya’s employer Nandini was about to close shop. Sister Nandini’s husband, Kashyapji, had been a close confidant of King Ashwapati.
After killing the royal family, PriamRaja’s next target were the loyalists of King Ashwapati. Hence they were forced to flee, and soon.
Maya had one day to decide if she should spend all her savings to buy the shop. She would also need to move into the shop, to keep guard and save on rent. She quietly wondered which was worse - to stay alone or to stay with people who made you feel alone?
Maya was lost in thought when the temple bells began to ring, beckoning devotees for the evening prayer. Maybe this is just what she needed to calm her, she thought. She quietly left the house and made her way toward the temple.
Maya ended up staying for the entire evening prayer, and still felt reluctant to leave. She had always loved the atmosphere - the recitation of the sacred chants, the singing of the hymns, the lamps lighting up the sanctuary, the flowers, the incense - it was a world where everything felt clean and pure. But it was time to leave now, and she reluctantly made her way to the door. Sadly she was no closer to a decision now than when she had arrived, the confidence to take the leap still eluded her.
As she was leaving, she saw a figure come into the temple precinct. It was Kailashnathji, the Gramika. Maya had always looked up to him as a man of great wisdom and virtue. Maybe she should seek his advice, the thought struck her and she approached him with hurried footsteps. Reaching near him, she realized that his face was rather grave. Of course it was such a tense moment for him! She hesitated.
Suddenly Kailashnath looked up and saw Maya. His eyes lit up. Bhola was his biological son, but Sanga and Maya were his children in temperament and zest for life. To Bhola he would bequeath all his material wealth, but Sanga and Maya were inheritors of his intellectual and spiritual wealth.
Encouraged by his smile, Maya went forward and sought his blessings.
‘God bless you , God bless you my dear. You are just the person I hoped to see.
Come , come, sit by me’. Kailashnath said.
There was a stone bench next to a Pipal tree and they both sat down. It was late night before they finished talking and Kailashnathji had walked her home.
Maya sat down on her bed and recalled the events of the evening. She was still trying to grasp what he had said. What he told her was extremely confidential and she had been surprised that he should share it with her. Later her surprise turned into awe, when she realized the extent of the elderly man’s vision and purpose. But Gramikaji was not having an idle discussion, he had asked her to join him in his mission. She shivered at the thought. Could someone like her really join something so big?
After he had finished, she shared her current dilemma with him. He listened thoughtfully and told her to embrace the new opportunity. As she bent to touch his feet, he had blessed her and promised her all the help within his power. With his guidance and support, Maya felt confident. She decided to stay in Gangapur.