It was referred to as a benefit concert, held with the objective to create awareness for and to sensitise the audience toward the cause of work done by the particular charity involved. Because such concerts often invite criticism about the intentions of the musicians involved and to prevent turning celebrities into misplaced representatives for the mission on hand, the organisers had wisely included some relatively unknown performers to accompany the established singers. Thus Sanyukta received a request from her contact in Mumbai to join the seasoned musicians for the charity event.

Randhir did not tell her that he had bought himself a ticket to attend the concert. In fact she thought he was working late that evening and would only show up to pick her up afterwards so they could head home together. Randhir had not really sat through any of her other performances in Mumbai. Being seen together at a venue with cameras present could pose a problem, so he was always discreet, meeting her at a quiet place after the show where no prying eyes could link them together. 

He had carried a spare shirt to work that day. Before leaving the office he had freshened up, changed his shirt and put on some cologne. Once at the theatre he took his seat which was at a reasonable distance from the stage to ensure that he was not spotted. As he sank into his seat a spool of memories unfolded in his head like a seamless tapestry scroll, making him recall the first time he had heard her sing at his mother's party. Yasmeen's voice had enthralled him, and during the break when she sought him out privately, asking him to join her for the next song he had been fully captivated by the mysterious veiled girl. 

After that party the yearning he was filled with made him follow her to the barsaati. It had been quite an awakening to know that his Yasmeen was actually Sanyukta in disguise, and that she had donned the disguise just to get close to him. He knew right then that this was the girl he wanted to share his life with! Their pull had been destined and providence had played it's part much too well to bring them together. Randhir noticed that the every seat at the venue was occupied, and the audience, who represented a kaleidoscope of people of diverse races and backgrounds had enthusiastically chosen to take in the musical bonanza of a very different cultural background to their own.

The evening commenced with an invocation to Shiva, followed by the bandish "Jai Sharada Bhawani"dedicated to Saraswati, the Hindu Goddess of learning and the performing arts. Randhir noticed that although the brochure mentioned an evening of classical Indian music the organisers had chosen to steer it towards a amalgamation of semi-classical, folk and popular renditions based on ragas to appeal to the mixed audience, promising them not a single dull moment ahead. As the singers embarked to take the listeners on a mystic musical journey they listened with rapt attention, applauding timely, proving once again that true music transcended boundaries.

Randhir's thoughts drifted to the past as he awaited the entry of Sanyukta. If memory served him well his first ever sight of the little girl weeping on her own rooftop had been the first time he acknowledged her presence. She had awakened his compassion and his planting of the night jasmine for her  had unwittingly bound them in a cosmic tie. "Brij ko chali aaj Radha..." The words distracted him for a moment. That had also been the first time he had held Sanyukta's wrist, and she had followed him without a whimper of protest as if in a trance, hardly believing what was happening.

Her doe eyes had blinked with wonder when she first step foot in his ancestral haveli. Did she know then that some day in the future she would be his bride? He smiled to recall how his father painstakingly re-enacted the Holi festival on the haveli lawns for his children who returned for school holidays long after the actual date had passed. Although Sanyukta was always invited by Vidushi she would hide like a wallflower, trying to stay away from the colourful riot because she was too worried about being scolded at home for getting her clothes soiled. Then one Holi she had appeared out of nowhere and had thrown a handful of rose-coloured gulal powder at him making him chase her instinctively. 

He had trapped her into a corner and rather than voice her protest she had turned herself towards the wall covering her face with her palms. She had stood there transfixed, and he just stayed there, staring at the long tresses that cascaded over her back. When she finally turned toward him he was still staring at her, his colour-stained hands waiting to blemish her but not budging an inch. In the next instance she had broken into a sprint, letting her feet carry her back to her own sanctum, the night jasmine in her yard. Although he knew she would be there he had not followed her, rather he returned to his own lawn with a slight smile on his face thinking how briskly the fleet-footed girl had outwitted him. The colour game had no longer seemed interesting without her around.

Vidushi would drop him subtle hints about Sanyukta's crush for him but he chose to ignore her, unwilling to crowd his head with unrealistic notions. Not that girls made him uncomfortable, far from it, but with Sanyukta everything was different. Neither spoke much to the other but he got restless if he failed to hear her silver anklets around the house. He never admitted to himself how much he enjoyed the girl's adulation, he merely enjoyed it from a distance. There were little things that he would do, like inform the kitchen to make snacks which he knew she relished in Vidushi's room. He tried talking his father into taking Vidushi (and Sanyukta, of course) on joyrides and tuck shop treats, something he know she had never experienced before.

He realised that Sanyukta had joined in to accompany the next singer. They began singing the opening verse to the Krishna Bhajan "Baje re muraliya baje", originally voiced by the musical legends Pandit Bhimsen Joshi and Lata Mangeshkar. Randhir had heard the original track several times before and being a keen listener had noticed the tonal difference between the parts sung by the original pair, concluding that they had recorded them separately from each other. However this time the duet was rendered in perfect sync, and Sanyukta's voice filled Randhir's ears as she sang in Krishna's praise as accompanist.

  Vimukh shikhar se dhaara

dhayey radha hari sammukh aaye

bansuriya hari saawariya ki 

radha gori sun bhavey

baajey muraliya baajey 

adhar dharey mohan murali par 

hont pe maaya biraajey

harey harey baans ki bani muraliya  

maram maram ko chhuvey anguliyaan 

chanchal chatur anguriyaan jispar 

 kanak mundariya saajey 

baajey muraliya baajey, baajey re muraliya baajey

pili mundari anguri shyam 

mundari par radha ka naam 

aakhar dekhe suney madhur swar 

radha gori laajey 

baje muraliya baje, baje re muraliya baje  

bhul gayi radha bhari gagariya

bhul gaye godhan ko saawariya 

jaaney na jaaney eh do jaaney

jaaney lag jag rajeya

https://youtu.be/-W5U53LMsU0

Sanyukta had not revealed to Randhir what she was performing. He wondered whether it was a mere coincidence that bound them in a complex loop of the legend of Krishna, with whom the parijata plant was linked. In her spare time at the barsaati Sanyukta would often sing Meera bai hymns while nurturing her favourite plant. Like Krishna's celestial lover she too would long to be with Randhir whenever he was away at the IIT Campus. Another long spell of separation awaited the two lovers and he wanted to compensate for it as much as he could by wining and dining her, conversing with her, having her fuss over him, feed him, make love to him till he could fill every cell with her presence- hoping to make it last until they could meet again. The evening ended amidst thunderous applause and Randhir prepared himself to meet the object of his affection, his soulmate! After the concert was over she belonged just to him rightfully.