Chitpavan women, similar to those from other Marathi speaking Brahmin communities, would engage themselves in social and religious rituals round the year. Some of these traditions happen to be unique to the Konkanastha community. Baiza, Kashi's handmaid, was helping her mistress dress up for Bodan, a ritual deep-seated in the Chitpavan culture and rooted in the worship of the Mother Goddess or Devi, who was their clan deity.

"Baiza, we think we have put on enough jewellery for ourselves and for the invitees. Don't open any more jewel boxes!" Kashi reminded her. 

"Tai Saheb, it is not every woman's fortune to don such finery. A savaashin like yourself who are privileged to be high born must engage in such vanity, lest you be mistaken for worker bees like us!" Baiza smiled. Her casual remark made Kashi feel uncomfortable. Those few words conveyed so much meaning. Kashi fell silent and let Bajia continue her work silently.

Baiza was born into slavery and had served Kashi's natal home along with her own mother. Just a few years older than Kashi, she had come into the Peshwa household as part of her mistress' dowry. At Radhabai's initiative she had been married off to one of Balaji's foot soldiers. Unfortunately the husband died in combat just a few months after he had consummated the marriage, leaving behind a widowed Baiza. Radhabai prevented her from immolating herself on her husband's pyre because Baiza was pregnant then. Within a few months she bore a daughter who was now four years old and trailed her mother wherever she went, using her tiny hands to assist her mother as much as she could. 

Kashi was well aware that being widowed so young and having to live in reclusive servitude had made Baiza a little resentful and this was evident in her occasional passive-aggressive behaviour. Her bare forehead, her plain garb and a body unadorned with jewellery stood testimony to a life of forced self-denial. Kashi was sure Baiza longed for a man's companionship and she craved all the little things a married woman took for granted. Unlike the high born women they served, maids had no reason to dress up and entertain guests, but at least they received gifts of sarees that they could preen in. Widows like Baiza could not even expect that. They were resigned to the fate of their colourless drab lives. Nevertheless Baiza was devoted to Kashi, and the young Peshwin made sure to reward the loyalty thoughtfully.

Kashi made sure that Baiza and her child ate well, were clothed adequately and lived securely under her protection. Widowed maids were sometimes exploited by unscrupulous men who had access to them. The poor women were often powerless against such corrupt machinations but as long as Radhabai ruled the roost with an iron hand none of the women employed to serve the Peshwa family had to worry about their security. But there was nothing Kashi could do about Baiza's loneliness. She wondered if she'd ever dare to drop a hint to Radhabai about getting Baiza remarried. For a Brahmin woman remarriage was unthinkable but for those women whose social background demanded that they toil for a living it was often a practical solution. Some men from that class, especially those whose wives had died childless or had left behind young children, would even be willing to pay a bride price for a suitable match. But Baiza's chances were relatively slimmer considering she had a daughter to raise. 

Kashi sighed and redirected her thoughts to the Bodan ceremony on hand. In some Brahmin homes it was a norm to perform it annually. It was invariably performed following an auspicious event such as a wedding in the family or the birth of a baby. The ritual needed four married women in attendance, one from the family itself and others who had been invited among neighbours or relatives. The presence of a maiden was vital besides the four married women.

The five of them sat surrounding a round metal salver and commenced by symbolically worshipping a betel nut as Lord Ganesh and the idol of Goddess Annapurna, the Hindu deity of nourishment. The Goddess was offered a throne and jewellery, both fashioned out of tinted dough. Rich food offerings were then made to her and she was worshipped with lamps made of the same dough. Later the lamps were doused with milk after being placed on the salver.

The young maiden had an important role to assay during the worship as she was regarded as a symbolic form of the Goddess. She was permitted to make demands of any of the five ingredients of the nectar called panchamrut. Whatever she asked for, be it yoghurt, milk, ghee, sugar or honey, was offered into the salver. The contents of the salver were then stirred by the five worshippers until the maiden signalled them to stop. The food in the salver was fed to milch cattle while the women, the maiden and other guests enjoyed a traditional puran-varan feast and were given presents to take away.

Kashi knew why her mother-in-law had insisted on performing the Bodan. It had been a year since her marriage was consummated but Baji had spent many months away on his missions in the service of the Chhatrapati. As eager as both Kashi and Baji were to have an unhindered conjugal life, conceiving a child required the physical presence of the impregnator if the Vanshvel had to grow. If Kashi's womb did not bear fruit even after several months of congress with her husband eventually Radhabai would be forced bring welcome another bride for her elder son, such was the pressure for begetting an heir. Unknown to Kashi her mother-in-law's network of informers kept her posted about the state of the Peshwa's conjugal bed. Rumpled, stained sheets brought hope but each time Kashi sought refuge in the menstrual chamber she left her husband's mother disappointed. 

It was not unknown for important missions to have been forsaken by duty bound husbands in order to hasten back in time for the Garbhadhan ceremony. Begetting male offspring was priority. When the news of his junior wife Soyrabai's menarche was conveyed to Chhatrapati Shivaji, rather than turn around from his important mission he asked for her to be sent to him by palanquin. She stayed with him until she became pregnant and was then sent back to the safety of the Raigad fort so she could deliver her son Rajaram, step-brother to Sambhaji, who was Shivaji's heir-apparent.

Kashi was exhausted by the exertion of the Bodan ritual. Somehow she managed to stomach the rich food after the ceremony. Spring had given way to early summer and the feast had included, besides the ubiquitous puran-poli, the pulp of fragrant payri mangoes. This aamras was to be enjoyed with scoops of fried puris. Kashi felt overwhelmed by the powerful aroma of the mangoes and sought her escape from the gathering of women as quickly as she could. The dry heat of summer was just starting to scorch the residents of Saswad amid the incessant mating calls of the male cuckoo. 

"Baiza, please pack these away!" Kashi unceremoniously flung the heavy neck piece and the several strands of gold beads that balanced themselves on her bosom. She cast off her heavy bracelets and undid her ornate brocade saree, slipping instead into a simpler soft silk cotton one that let her skin breathe better. She fell upon the bed, head resting on a bolster, with Baiza massaging her temple and trying to fan her at the same time. Just then a wave of nausea forced Kashi to run to a safe spot before she involuntarily disgorged the contents of her recent lunch. Baiza, who was alarmed, ran behind her mistress with a pitcher of water to help her recover from the bout. 

"Baiza, what is happening to us?" Kashi sounded distressed as she narrated the discomfort that had been plaguing her since the Bodan. Baiza listened patiently until the actual reason dawned upon her. It had been over six weeks since her mistress had been under menstrual seclusion. And her symptoms undeniably pointed to the obvious conclusion. It was time for the Peshwa Vanshvel to blossom and bear fruit. 

"Tai Saheb, Mother Jagdamba has showered you with her immense blessings!! There is new life growing inside you! Thorlya Bai Saheb must be notified immediately!" Baiza did not wait to be dismissed to convey the good tidings to the senior Peshwin. But she was unprepared for the Peshwin's reaction.

"Is that so? Are you quite sure? May the Mother Goddess grant us her blessings to see things through safely. Baiza, make sure the confidential news does not get around until the end of the tenth week after conception." Radhabai told Baiza before sending her back. Disappointment was writ large on Baiza's face as she walked back to her mistress' chamber without the bakhshesh she was hoping for. 

Baiza knew why the senior Peshwin was being cautious. An impending birth was as much a welcome news as it was a source of stress and anxiety. Young expectant mothers sometimes lost early pregnancies as their wombs were rather immature. It was better to be cautious and wait until the end of the first trimester to disclose the news publicly. The secret was kept because it was mandated by primal superstition. Drishta, the feared evil eye, was regarded as arch enemy number one.

Guess the Peshwa Saheb would have to wait a while to find out until the scroll carrying the news of his wife's pregnancy was finally dispatched to him by rider. Baiza rushed back only to find that her mistress had surrendered into the arms of Goddess of slumber and was sleeping off her first moments of discomfort arising from her newly acquired morning sickness. Baiza quickly dipped her finger into the jar of kohl and applied a dot behind Kashi's ear before covering the Peshwin with a light cotton sheet. She also invoked a silent prayer to her patron deity. She would do everything to keep her mistress protected from the evil eye, now that she needed blessings more than ever!