Devpura,  Dewāl

       An endless stream of cold water, passing through the village of Devapura hammer against the giant living stones laid into the creek of the Purna River, cascading down from the ranges of Satpura. The enormous, sky-touching blackberry trees near the creek swayed into the fierce gust of wind. The village's alleyways fell dead silent, devoid of living beings due to the continuous downpour in the month of Ashwin. Hanging lamps outside the people's homes flickered in the air blast, whereas dangling flowers clung to the stone walls and danced into the chill of the evening breeze.

      Into the silent whispers of a cool breeze, a woman walked out of her home to fill water from the well to cook in the evening. A brass container filled with water rested on her waist, while another water-filled iron bucket's handle was clutched in her right hand.

"Hasn't Raghunāth arrived yet?" A man inquired in the woman's way about her husband.

"He might be coming late as it was raining." The woman replied to the old man.

"Hmm. He might be stuck somewhere." The man acknowledged and nodded to himself.

"Umang, go help your Kāki." The old man ordered his 15-year-old grandson, standing by the door.

"No, it's not needed." The woman insisted as she didn't share good relations with the ladies of his home.

Umang glanced at his grandfather once, who only glared at him, giving a silent indication to do the work. He took the bucket from her hand and walked to place it in her home silently.

"Just keep it here; I'll carry it by myself." The woman insisted, walking backward in his direction.

"It's okay, Kāki. Just a little distance is left." Umang answered, resuming his walk.

"Go home. Otherwise, your mother will start shouting at you."

"She won't. No one complains when it's Dadaji's order." Umang chirped and moved forward to place the bucket.

The woman refused to take his help because she didn't share quite good relations with Umang's mother, who often taunted her for not having sons.

"Be careful on the way to home; the floor is slippery." The woman shouted, making Umang aware who clutched the pillar with both hands as he was about to slip.

She kept the bucket on the chowk and moved to take off the dried clothes from the rope. She passed the forefront of her home to reach the courtyard where her daughter, Nandini, was cutting vegetables for dinner.

     Nandini's reddened, tear-stained cheeks illuminated in the glow of the fire as she chopped the fresh green chillies. The cool breeze of the evening slapped her short hair across her face, irritating her to her existence.

Her eyes barely opened because she rubbed her left eye with the same hand she cut chillies from. She struggled to blink as the burning sensation in her left eye had her eyes squeezed tightly. "Arghh." She howled in frustration and blinked up, letting a lone tear fall from her left eye.

"Again. Again. How many times will I have to tell you to be cautious with chillies, Nandini? Hein?" Nandini's mother scolded, throwing off a heaps of clothes on the bedstead.

"What do I do with you?" "Go, wash yourself." Nandini's mother, Latā, smacked Nandini's head as this was her daily habit.

She dropped off the half-chopped chillies into the brass plate and walked towards the chowk to wash. She thrashed away a dried Champa flower that floated onto the surface of the water and began washing herself.

"Don't know what will happen when you'll go to your sasural?" Nandini heard her mother's ranting when she opened her eyes into the cold water several times to eliminate the burning sensation. She stayed silent for a while, preparing for the speech in mind, to argue with her mother.

"What do I do? Every time I cut them, one of those seed always jump into my eyes." Nandini argued with her one eye still close.

"Give this reason in your sasural to your mother-in-law, then I'll see." Nandini huffed at her mother's statement, who had started taunting her about marriage from the past few months as she already crossed twenty.

"I'll find a husband who'll not make me cut chillies." Nandini boasted to her mother, who shook her head in disbelief.

"Why not? Your baba would make this demand, making the whole world laugh at us." Nandini drew her eyebrows in glower and made faces to her mother due to her absurd statement.

Her husband will; definitely, not make her do something that she doesn't wish to.

"Stop looking at me. Start cooking; your baba must be arriving." Latā instructed and walked into the kitchen to place the prepared vegetables.

Nandini rolled herself 180 degrees on one foot, blinked like a doll, and stared at her reflection in the stilled water. Her eyes darted up to the ash-colored cloudlets when a sparrow passed her airy path. Her shoulders dropped, and she huffed in disappointment.

"I miss him." She pouted in a little grimace at the birds who flew back to their home, where she missed her beloved's homely arms.

Her chain of thoughts broke due to the sudden knock on her wooden door. She adjusted the end of her saree, which was stuck near her waist, and moved to open the door.

The flower-laden fresh scent of a cold evening breeze played with her sooty, slightly dishevelled hair. Her golden jhumki dangled in the air due to her movement. A trail of mesmerizing voices buzzed into the bare whisper of the wind as she took every step to the door.

"Who gave this, baba?" Nandini beamed as soon as she witnessed the clay pot in her father's hand.

"Nandini, let your Baba enter at least." Her mother shouted as Nandini began inquiring on the doorstep only. Nandini pouted sheepishly and adjusted the ropes of the pot in between her fingers as her father latched the iron chain.

"Now tell, Baba. Who gave it?" Her father smiled and shook his head at his daughter's excitement.

"Anand. The fruit seller, you know, in the market. They got Laxmi in their home." Her father acknowledged and handed her one more little box.

"Oh." Nandini nodded her head up and down.

"This has Mohanthāl." Her father whispered, which made Nandini giggle as it was her mother's favourite sweet.

"Why this?" She instantly quizzed, as it was no occasion for loads of sweets.

"What do you mean by why, hmm?" Her father glared at her as they both walked into their huge courtyard.

"They are distributing sweets on their Laxmi's arrival, so I also got sweets for the Laxmi's of my home." Nandini's baby cheeks ballooned out in happiness at the special endearment.

"First daughter it was. Be it second or third, then we'll see how many sweets he'll distribute." Latā taunted, keeping a glass filled with water on the wooden table for her husband to drink. Her mother's statement instantly faded the happy look on her face. She rolled her eyes and entered into the kitchen to keep the sweets inside.

"Now, what happened?" Her father, Raghunāth, quizzed seeing her mother's puffed-up face.

"Did someone say something again?" Raghunāth's lips twisted into a glower, and he stared at his unresponsive wife, who was busy arranging clothes.

"Why will anything happen now? Moreover, what is left to happen? All my life I am the one who has to listen to everyone's taunts and..."

"Baba, today that POOTNA happened," Nandini shouted from the kitchen, answering on her mother's behalf.

"Pootna! Who?" Her father's brows pushed together in a frown.

"Baba, that Pootna Sarlā, whose house is in front of the Panchayat Neem Tree," Nandini shouted from the kitchen, covering her mouth.

"What did she say now?" Her father asked before gulping the water down his throat.

Their conversation was evident to Nandini's ears through the walls, as the kitchen was in the courtyard only. Nandini couldn't hold herself any longer in the kitchen alone, so she came out to narrate the whole incident to her father.

"She was bragging about her son's achievement that he got 10,000 gold coins as a prize from the king for making a king's statue. What kind of a king that kingdom has, who instead of making God's statue, makes a statue of himself?" Nandini twisted her face in a displeasing manner while playing with her dough-covered hands.

"How many times have I said not to roam around with dough in your hands?" Latā smacked Nandini's shoulder, whose hands shed flour on the floor.

"I was kneading dough, so I came out like this." Nandini expressed, drawing her hands in front of her mother, which were slapped instantly.

"Why not? Gossiping is more important than anything else, hmm." Her mother twisted her ear lightly, which didn't make her shout in pain; rather, she flashed her teeth.

"Yes. Very important. The most important thing to do in the world." Nandini mimicked Sarla's voice, and her parent's laughter echoed in their courtyard which made her giggle too.

"Such a naughty girl you are!" Latā pinched her daughter's nose.

"Don't mimic in front of anyone else. I would not like to hear anyone complaining about you." Nandini nodded, acknowledging her mother's words.

"Go get the milk container. Since your father is early then he'll go to the cow-ranch." Her mother declared, looking at her father.

"Why? I feel so tired." Her father yawned, stretching his arms. Latā glared at her husband who acted to sleep.

"It would've been better if I had come late." Raghunāth nagged in annoyance.

"I came early so that I could spend a little time with my family and here you're sending me away, Shrimatiji. Very bad and sad too." Raghunāth caged his wife in between his arms.

"Done. Now take this." Lata threw the container in her husband's lap and pushed him away.

"You are home, so you should go. I'm not sending my daughter in the streets when you're already sitting home." Lata reasoned out to her husband.

"Why don't we go together?"

"Why not?" Lata stifled a mocking laughter.

"Nandini." A loud voice of a woman broke the husband-wife moment as someone shouted on the doorstep.

"Who can be here at this time?" Raghunāth arched both brows towards his wife, asking for the answer to his question.

"Seems it's Rāgini." Nandini's mother replied and walked to open the door.

"Kāki, where is Nandini?" Rāgini (Nandini's friend) asked about her friend's whereabouts and started walking into the courtyard without listening to Latā's response.

"This girl always comes like a storm." Nandini's mother complained, settling the huge wooden stick at its place which Rāgini knocked earlier.

"Pranām, Kaka. I got the milk." Rāgini handed him the milk container.

"What an amazing girl! I told Krishna a few moments ago; I don't want to go to bring milk and see, he sent you."

"Radhey-Radhey." Raghunāth thanked god, singing god's favourite name.

"I can't believe; I have been thrown between slackers." Latā complained to the god, looking up to the roof.

"Kāki, I'll be staying here tonight. Okay?" Rāgini declared, standing in front of Latā.

"Why?" Latā pursued her lips together in disappointment. Totally in denial of Nandini and Rāgini being together.

"You two are a disaster together. I would not be able to sleep at night." Latā reasoned as her sleep was disrupted by the slight movements.

"We will not make noise. Okay, my dear Kāki." Rāgini put her head on Latā's head lovingly to persuade her.

"Okay, but you two are going to sleep in the last room and sleep right after dinner-get it!" Rāgini nodded. Even though none of these were going to be followed, especially the second one. Last time when both childhood friends stayed together, they were awake the whole night laughing and gossiping over everything. That irked her mother cause she couldn't sleep that night. Since then she never let them stay together.

"Since you got the milk then go, keep it on the boil." Rāgini took the container and moved inside the kitchen.

"Oh Raghukishori! Where are you?"

"Did you turn into mice that you cannot be seen?" Rāgini teased and tiptoed inside the kitchen to see Nandini who could not be seen anywhere.

"Oh, there you are." Rāgini declared as she witnessed Nandini sitting on a coconut carpet on the floor, rolling chapatis. She pulled her lips tight seeing Nandini glaring at her with hot tongs in her hand.

"How dare you call me that?" Nandini shoved the tongs towards Rāgini, who just made fun of her.

"You don't complain when he calls you with that name, and you're ready to burn me with these tongs," Rāgini complained dramatically, walking towards her.

"You are not him. You better don't tease me, or else I'll chop your hair." Nandini pulled Rāgini's braid, warning her.

"Such a mean friend you are, ditching your childhood friend for a mere man. Effect of KALIYUG is brightly evident." Rāgini shouted and shifted beside Nandini forcefully on the single carpet.

"He is not a mere man. He is my Mohak." Nandini babbled, taking her lover's side.

"My Mohak!" Rāgini mimicked, making faces that made Nandini glare at her.

"Okay," Rāgini uttered and cleared her throat before declaring.

"Your Mohak is coming." Nandini looked at her in surprise. Her eyes took notice of the dangling letter into the invisible bubbles of air.

"Are you serious?" Nandini squealed in amazement. Rāgini nodded positively, assuring her.

"I love you a lot." Nandini shouted and hugged Rāgini, which made them instantly fall onto the ground.

"Nandini...Rāgini." Nandini's mother's voice echoed into the kitchen, startling the duo. Both stared at each other in horror and sat hurriedly- one rolling the roti and the other baking it.

"How much more time is needed, Nandini?"

"We are just done, Amma," Nandini replied to her mother, who looked closely at both of them. Nandini's eyes wandered around the little room to see if the letter was hidden or not.

"Rāgini, what happened to your back?" Nandini ducked her head back, looking at Rāgini's back.

"Oh- it's just some mud."

"Kāki, Nandini was the one who..."

"Okay. Okay. No explanation is needed. Just prepare the thāl for the offering." Latā instructed and walked out of the kitchen.

"Thanks to Krishna; we are saved." Rāgini heaved a sigh of relief.

"Now just go and read it." Rāgini pushed Nandini and gave her the hidden letter.

Nandini took it and walked to the window of the kitchen. She stared at the letter longer than needed which irked Rāgini, so she walked to her.

"Did he just propose for marriage?" Rāgini commented, seeing Nandini going red like a beetroot. Nandini just smiled like a maniac and inhaled long.

"Aww...it's okay." Rāgini hugged Nandini, whose eyes glistened with tears at her lover's letter.
    

       The letter just consisted a few straight words, indicating his arrival, yet she felt over the moon because this time they had departed for a long period. More than 34 days had passed for they glanced at each other. 

                        ༻༺━━━━⁎∗.*.∗⁎━━━━༻༺

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