Nandini looks in the eyes of the seer– a pair of incandescent orbs, as if stars plucked before they crashed on mortal soil.
"Then, you came," she whispered.
The seer kept mum. His mind was lost in an ocean, thinking back to the past.
"I wonder, could things have gone different?"  he asks.
Nandini swirls around him, her cloak of shadow tickling his flesh.
"No," she says. "Time flows as I command."

****

Maya had fallen asleep at dawn, but her rest wasn't for long. Her body was accustomed to waking up at a regular time, for she went to the market. She woke up before eight, feeling more drained than usual. Sonalota was snoring.

Things weren't like this between the two friends. Maya recalled how happy Sonalota was when she got to know she was to be married in such an affluent family. Yes, the dowry to be paid was huge, but after failing to secure a good position for their eldest daughter, the parents of Sonalota wanted their youngest child to be given the best of pleasures.

No one knew where Bonolota, the older sister, was. She had been married into a different town far away, but was widowed soon. One fine day news came of her fleeing from her in-laws house. Maya believed it was a lie and Bonolota was actually killed. Though there was no proof.

Sonalota had cried in Maya's arms at the news of her sister's apparent death. Her parents refused to file a case with the police, fearing it would risk their family's safety. Sonalota missed her sister a lot during her own wedding. Maya had attended it. Her parents had laughed at the gift Maya's father had bought with his hard work, but Sonalota loved the saree.

"Fate has the best moves. She has changed." Maya saw the gold bangles on her hands. Sonalota was the bride of a family to whom silk and silver were as ordinary as cheap wool and junk jewellery. Perhaps the environment had transformed her so much that she was disgusted by the idea of keeping a friendship with someone as lowly as Maya.

It had soured so much that she thought Maya was jealous of her being the mother of a male child. But Maya was only concerned about the death of the soul that came to her womb first. Had Sonalota not cradled the baby with the same love as the boy? Babies were just babies. A girl was Lakshmi and a boy was Krishna. Both were precious.

As Sonalota was asleep, Maya caressed her gently, knowing this was the only moment she could show affection. She ran her fingers through the beautiful hair of Sonalota. The earrings she wore glimmered.

"Real gold." Maya laughed. "My friend lives like a queen."

So as she continued to love her friend secretly, a secret was revealed to her. Behind the thick locks of hair, on the back of Sonalota's neck, was a deep jarring scar. It appeared to be inflicted by something like a whip or a man's leather belt. The blood clots were still visible.

Sonalota shifted in her sleep. Maya retracted her hands. Her suspicions were correct– all was not well, unlike Sonalota implied.

"What is the time?" Sonalota yawned. Before Maya could answer, a set of lightning bangs made the women cower. Sonalota immediately hid her arms, afraid that her gold was in danger. Maya went to the door on tiptoes. The men from the Raja's house had come.

"You have an hour with you," they said. "Pack the most important things you have. We will be taking you to the mansion."

"But..." Maya took a pause to breathe in. "But why?"

"It's the order of Boro Babu. He has decided you will remain in the mansion and work there. He will tell you the details. Now shut your mouth and be quick!"

"Alright!"

Maya kept the door slightly ajar. Her heartbeats increased tenfold. Who was this Boro Babu? Were they naturally so kind to employ the daughter of their dead employee? Was it a good thing to live in the mansion? Ah, she would be their servant. But that meant she would be living beside them, if not with them. Was such proximity to power necessary?

"Who is there?" Sonalota asked. "I heard a man saying you to pack your things."

The living example of what happened to a woman when she lived with the wealthy was in front of Maya. Yet, it would be a foolish, even an audacious mistake, to disregard the offer of the Rajon.

No, Boro Babu. How is he related to the Rajon?

"The, uh, the," Maya stammered, "the guards ordered me to pack most things in an hour. I must leave with them."

"Where?"

"To the palace."

Sonalota put a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were squinted. "If only I could live in a mansion."

Maya clenched her fists. "I will live as a servant, Sonalota. I am the mistress of my home, but that mansion won't be mine. I will live under them."

"So you want to have the mansion, huh?" Sonalota hissed. "Then climb on the bed of the Rajon. He lost his wife last year. Must be thirsty and wet under his dhoti."

"You have become so cheap, Sonalota." Maya pulled the blanket from over her body. "You say your husband is close to the Rajon but spread nonsense about him behind his back! I met the Rajon yesterday, and he is a very mature person."

"All men are the same, Maya. You will know soon."

"Your husband included?"

"Don't dare point fingers at him." Sonalota gritted her teeth. "You can't speak ill about my family. I would have never come to you, but my husband allowed me to. He pities you."

"Need not sympathise with me," Maya jeered. "I don't need your help, your shelter. Nothing. I am not jealous of you, I am not looking to land riches by hook or crook. But if you can't get this into your pea-brain, please leave my poor home. It's too dilapidated for a regal woman like you."

"You–"

Maya jabbed a finger at her. "Sonalota, I don't need your friendship. We can be fellow humans. Please leave."

"I will remember this." Sonalota twisted her lips. She stormed out of the house. The guards were waiting outside. "The Rajon sent you?"

The guard scrutinised her. "Who are you?"

She flicked her hair. "Mrs. Bakshi."

The guard's pupils enlarged. "Oh, I see. I didn't know. Nah, the Rajon hasn't sent for her. Boro Babu decided, although the Rajon agrees to it too."

"Oh, Boro Babu..." Sonalota pursed her lips. "Boro Babu took the decision, I see. Just a cautionary note– this girl is still unmarried at the age of eighteen. I hope you understand why." Sonalota strode off for her home.

Maya took all essentials– a few sarees, her baskets and boxes, the idols of the deities, etc. They all got in two trunks. Left were the utensils, the almirah, the mattress. And memories.

She locked the door and tied the key to her aanchal. "I don't know where you are taking me, Kalika." She traced the lock. "I hope this isn't the end of happiness."

Maya headed for the mansion in a bullock cart.

Last night, she hadn't admired the exterior enough. Now she had the chance to drink in its glamour. Its walls were golden brown, such a crisp and sunny colour. There was a beautiful green garden, visited frequently by butterflies and little chirping birds who drank from the waters of the fountain.

At the door, Maya was greeted by a young girl around her age. She had big bubbly eyes and curly braids. "Welcome to the Mukherjee palace, Maya. I am Rituja. My mother works here, and I also help sometimes."

The guards and Maya followed Rituja. She took them to the servants' quarters. Some men were cleaning a room, and upon their arrival hastened the task. When they vacated the place, the guards brought in Maya's trunk. Together with Rituja they helped arrange things in order.

Although Maya had just lost her Baba, no one seemed to care about it. Perhaps because he didn't mean anyone special to them. And in a way, they were trying to make her settle in a place which could keep her sustenance going.

Maya wasn't sure how much.

"Done." Rituja dusted her hands. "You still don't have a khatia. You will get one."

"It's alright. I usually sleep on the floor."

"Well, your choice." Rituja took her hand and showed her around. "This is my room. I live here with my mother Rani. She is the royal cook. And on the opposite end is Ramu's room. He works in the temple."

"My Baba was there too."

Rituja pressed Maya's palms. "Sorry for your loss. But don't worry. You will get a job here and earn enough to spend the rest of your life alone. I guess women of our status can't really dream of marrying, but at least we can be independent."

Her words were weirdly warming Maya's heart. Rituja's beaming smile was contagious.

"I appreciate your view of life," Maya said. "May Kali bless you."

"I lost my father when I was young. Never got the chance to cry. Life doesn't stop. Rather, it sprints. And you must keep your pace intact." Rituja closed the door to Maya's room. "We need to meet Boro Babu. Let's go."

They reached the hall. The guards were standing there, but the supposed Boro Babu hadn't yet come.

"You sold flowers?" Rituja asked.

"Yes."

"I think Boro Babu will give you some work related to flowers. And maybe more. You might have to do multiple jobs like the rest of us."

"As long as I get paid, yes."

"Definitely! They are Rajas. They will give you more than you can imagine."

Maya's tongue went dry. Rituja's optimism and innocence was in stark contrast to the, although unintended, underlying dark meaning of the words which Maya grasped.

"Wait. Boro Babu is yet to come. I can show you the garden."

Rituja pulled her outside. Her feet never touched the ground. She was flying, and she took Maya along with her. Maya saw dreams in her eyes, decorated by a certain childish positivity towards life. Not everybody could cherish it. The flame of wishes extinguished long before one could comprehend what it even meant to taste the fruits of one's labour.

"See, so many hibiscus!" Rituja giggled. "Pink and red, even white!"

Maya was looking at a different flower. An odd pain clutched her heart. "Beautiful," she whispered. But isn't beauty a curse?

"Rituja!"

Somebody called the girl. She groaned. "Maa, it is. Stay here, I will come back soon."

Maya waited, spending her time in exploring the flowers. Some of them were neglected and wilting. Being passionate about flowers, she murmured to herself the ways to revive them back to life. Closing her eyes and recalling from memory whatever she was taught by her Baba, she planned in advance what all to do in case she was given the duty to take care of these flowers.

"Not too much water," she spoke to herself. "And why is this one not under the sun? More sunshine is more love! We need to rearrange the positions. And this one needs a bigger pot. Perhaps I can place it on the soil-bed–"

"I was thinking the same. But I don't have time to do all these, and no one here seems to have the interest or knowledge."

Maya turned around. Standing in front of her was a tall, well-dressed man, donning an urban-styled purple shirt that typical babus from the cities often wore, along with a spotless white dhoti. He appeared to be in or around his thirties.

"You need to change the pot of these," he pointed at the plants Maya was earlier referring to. "I want them all growing back to health."

His eyes were light brown, as if honey mixed with mud. His skin was a shade of earthy brown. Maya swiftly concluded this to be either a guest or some family member. She had to reply if she didn't want to give the impression of being rude. "Yes, Babumoshai. I am new here. A certain Boro Babu has summoned me. I think he will ask me to look after this garden."

His eyes twinkled. "Do you like flowers?"

"I have worked with them since childhood. I know flowers better than I know myself."

"Wonderful." His moustache curled up as he grinned. "Come inside."

"Oh, but Rituja asked me to wait..."

"You met her? Nice. You two can be friends."

Maya had no choice but to follow the man. When he entered the mansion, the guards greeted him. "Hope you had a comfortable journey, Boro Babu."

Maya's eyes widened. So this is Boro Babu?

He smiled back at her. His moustache twitched, as if he were a black cat disguised as a human. Or maybe the other way round?

The men brought a chair for him to sit. Maya knelt before him, waiting for his order.

"So yes, I am Boro Babu, the younger brother of the Rajon. I decided to employ you. As per customs," he tapped his fingers impatiently, "you couldn't be taken in as a priestess. But you have an extensive knowledge about flowers, so you can work in the garden. That will be your main job. Along with that, help Lalon and Ramu with the temple."

"Thank you, Boro Babu." Maya bowed. "I-I will work diligently."

"I believe in you. Falgun was an obedient man. I expect you to be as good as him if not better. Have you been shown your new accomodation?"

"Yes, I have been."

"Alright. I think the men are yet to arrange for a bed. It will be done soon."

Maya gaped. This was all too much for her. "It's not required. I-I can do without it. I never slept on a bed."

The man chuckled. "I treat all my subordinates equally. If Rani, Rituja and Ramu, everyone has a bed, you should too. And if you don't have the habit, you need to adjust."

He looked at a man beside him. After an exchange of hushed words, the latter brought a pouch. Boro Babu wiggled a finger, gesturing Maya to stand. "Here, this is your payment. You will get one at the beginning of each month."

He threw the pouch on her cupped palms. Maya touched it to her forehead. "I shall be indebted to you."

Boro Babu smirked. "Well, debt was never in Falgun's dictionary. He was grateful, but never indebted, not even to us."

Her ears turned red in shame. The fact that she had just opposed her Baba's upbringing made her further lower her head. "I-I intend to be the same."

"Yes. Get to work from tomorrow. Today is the only day you can rest." He dismissed her with his hands, and then got up the chair and headed to the upper floor. Maya watched him leave. Knowing she wasn't needed anymore, she went to her newly assigned room.

In the deserted corridor of the mansion, her mirthless laughter chimed. From having a house of her own, she was reduced to having just a room.

Perhaps women like Sonalota would love to be in her position.

She fetched a chair for herself and sat on it. The red pouch clinked with coins. She untied the ribbon and saw inside– a heap of money. Perhaps double than the combined savings of her and her Baba.

"Even he didn't get paid so much."

Putting a hand in, she felt the coins. The copper shone in her hands. Her attention was grabbed by a piece of paper hidden amidst the coins. She took it out and opened it.

What she read made her head spin.

"I have a plush bed. If you ever need to relax, come climb on it naked."

****

word count: 2680 words

Idk what's wrong with Wattpad. Won't let me upload any image!

So, Boro Babu has entered the scene. It's HRISHAV. Yes. And we got a uh, nasty ending to this chapter. Ewww.

I am planning to quickly upload the first five chapters before teeny tiny break of like a week.

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