"Must you go? We can place extra guards to secure your apartments? Please don't leave!" A tearful Ratna stood before a flustered Anokhi and a tired looking Sanyukta.

"Baisa, we understand that you mean well, but this move is really necessary and we have already packed." Anokhi fastened the last bundle.

"If you have a baby girl will you name her after my Ruma?" Ratna's eyes began brimming with tears as she addressed Sanyukta.

Sanyukta could not help but melt at her innocence. Ratna was hoping for the birth of a baby girl so that she could name her after her deceased pet. Even when she knew, as well as any girl or woman of her time, that the birth of a baby girl was a source of huge disappointment for the Rajputs. A daughter was a burden, whose virtue was meant to be safeguarded at all cost, and she took away considerable wealth in the form of dowry to her husband's home when she got married. 

It was ironic that their people did not value women, who as wives, were needed to present the much desired heir to their husband's families. How could they expect the next generation to be born if baby girls were disposed off as infants? Nobody was willing to reason this out, such was the single minded obsession for a male child! Indeed among the less privileged classes female infanticide was known to be practised because bringing up a daughter was an added expense. In fact the only communities which rejoiced when a daughter was born were the Bedias and Kanjars whose livelihood depended on trafficking of girls. 

Sanyukta often wondered how Randhir would react if she bore a daughter instead of a son. Any man would expect the birth of a male heir.

"And what if the baby is a boy?" Sanyukta asked.

"Then we must name him after Maharana Pratap!" Ratna looked at Sanyukta, still hopeful.

"You know Kunwarji would not want you to take her away, leaving the comfort of the haveli behind, in her state!" Ratna made a last ditch effort to convince Anokhi. From the earnestness in her plea it was easy to see that she wished they would change their minds. She wanted to be around when the baby arrived. Ruma's death had left her depressed and no matter how much her older sibling Vidushi tried to humour her she craved the company of the two other women who led relatively simpler lives in the opulent haveli.

 "Baisa, you know the Rajput traditions well! How can my sister deliver her first child under the in-laws' roof? Since it is not possible to return to our paternal home for her confinement we must go somewhere else. More importantly, somebody is not keen on our presence in the haveli and if we linger there is no predicting what may befall us. My sister is in a delicate state and this is the least I can do to ensure her safety and that of her baby. We don't have much time. The baby could arrive anytime now."  Anokhi wisely refrained from mentioning that she had already taken Randhir's consent, in fact he was the one who had made arrangements for them to move to a non-descript location where they unlikely to be recognised.

With just a trusted maid and a single guard for company the sisters left the haveli for their destination before the break of dawn. A bigger entourage or a later departure would attract unwarranted attention and raise questions about their journey. Anokhi had not even shared with Sanyukta the location they were heading for. In any case the heavily pregnant Sanyukta trusted her completely. 

The two week journey was arduous. They had to move slowly as Anokhi was paranoid about the rigors of travel affecting Sanyukta adversely. At the same time she was torn by the need to rush, the baby's arrival was imminent and she would not feel safe unless they had gone sufficiently far from the source of danger. 

As the terrain became more and more arid the weather turned drier. They had to consume more water than usual in order to prevent getting dehydrated. One evening they arrived at a Bishnoi dhani, a modest settlement of a few scattered mud houses surrounded by khejri and acacia gum trees. Anokhi sent the guard forward to meet the headman of the village before helping Sanyukta down from the camel cart. 

The headman and his wife came forward to meet them. Unlike other men from Rajputana who wore colourful turbans the Bishnoi had stark white turbans. However the women were dressed in reds and pinks, the favourite colours of Rajputana women. Anokhi exchanged a few words with them and soon they were led into headman's home. The driver unhitched the camel cart and fed and watered the tired animal. 

"Baisa, your sister looks like she is due soon!" The headman's wife laid a quilt on a wooden charpai in her courtyard, offering them a seat. Sanyukta sank gratefully into the pliable woven matting of that wooden cot in the cool shade of the huge tree. They were given water to wash with and to drink, the latter with a lump of cane jaggery. 

"My dear, we have arrived. Our journey has ended!" Anokhi whispered to Sanyukta.

"Jija, are you sure?" Sanyukta looked around and wondered if Anokhi was confused. The houses and the ground were plastered neatly with mud. A few hardy bushes grew between the khejri trees. Blackbuck and chinkara gazelles roamed around freely, grazing on the bajra scattered for them generously by the Bishnoi. There were peafowl on the branches of the khejri trees, looking to retire for the night. It rustic charm of the outback was soothing to the eye but Sanyukta was sure that facilities there were very basic. How was she to safely deliver her baby safely in this remote place?

Anokhi knew what Sanyukta was brooding over. She whispered in the expectant mother's ear to reassure her.

"Baisa, as you already know all life is sacred to the Bishnoi. They protect  vegetation, animals and birds zealously. They never cut down green trees and will go to any length to protect living creatures. There could be no safer place for us. Besides, these people have co-existed with nature for centuries, they have traditional wisdom and experience. The baby and you shall be absolutely fine, I promise you! Also just like you this community is vegetarian. Their food is healthy and wholesome even if it is desert cuisine of the spartan kind." Sanyukta appeared to relax knowing that she was in safe hands.

Anokhi helped their maid to prepare the evening meal of bajra roti, ker sangri ki subzi and kachri ki chutney. Most of the ingredients the Bishnois used were grown locally or harvested from the wild. Pearl millet grew well in the irrigated farms. The ker pods were the fruit of the ubiquitous khejri trees while the sangri berries were also sourced locally. The kachri was a type of wild melon which gave a tangy taste to the chutney. 

There was not much to do after the dishes were washed. The weary travellers lay down to rest on the wooden cots. The desert air was chilly and Anokhi placed an extra blanket near Sanyukta to keep her warm. They fell off to sleep immediately in the simple mud hut with a starlit sky above them.

The Bishnoi's day began at dawn. The women bathed and lit their kitchen fires to make breakfast. Sanyukta noticed that they sifted the firewood carefully to prevent burning any bugs accidentally. In fact they used only dead wood, twigs or dried cowpats in their hearth. So committed were the Bishnoi to the conservation of the environment that they even buried their dead rather than cremate them.

Every moment the two sisters spent with the Bishnois they learnt something useful and their respect for the people grew. They learnt to use water sparingly after realising how precious this resource was in the desert. The people kept the well in the dhani very clean and desilted their reservoir carefully each year so that there was clean water to be had for domestic use, for their livestock and for also for farming. 

Nearly a week went by before anything eventful happened. That night it the cold was particularly intense. Just before dawn Anokhi woke up with a start to hear Sanyukta's muffled moans.

"Baisa, what is it?" She asked, wondering if it was already time.

"Jija, it is starting to hurt. I think the baby will be here soon!" The conversation woke up the headman's wife who went outside to wake up her husband asleep on a cot in the courtyard. With some effort the women moved Sanyukta to the birthing hut.

The mud plastered walls of the hut were illuminated by lamp light. Anokhi carried a dagger and asked the maid to heat a pot of water. There was no midwife, rather the headman's wife and her neighbour had enough experience delivering babies. 

"You should not lie down! The first time always takes longer, the baby is not due yet! You must walk around and even squat on all fours occasionally. That will lessen the discomfort and speed up the birth. It will hurt, but do not be afraid, it will all be over in a few hours!" The Bishnoi women advised Sanyukta after checking the baby's position. To her surprise they walked away calmly to their respective huts. Anokhi explained that they would bathe and prepare the morning meal of millet porridge quickly before returning to assist with the childbirth. 

After a few agonising hours of Sanyukta was finally ready to welcome her baby into the world. They encouraged her to push as mightily as she could, giving her the resolve to overcome her pain. And then before she knew it the baby slipped out onto the birthing cloth beneath her. An exhausted Sanyukta had tears of relief as she heard her little one crying heartily as with the first breath air entered the unaccustomed lungs. They carefully cut the umbilical cord with the sanitised dagger and applied turmeric on the stump. 

"Baisa, you have a beautiful daughter!" Anokhi too had tears in her eyes as she placed the infant, still crying, in her eager arms. 

"Congratulations! You are a mother now!" The village women greeted Sanyukta cheerfully. Unlike the Rajputs, the Bishnois did not rue when a daughter was born. Their faith encouraged them to treat women with respect. Sanyukta spoke softly to soothe her newborn. She was tired and elated at the same time and found herself wishing that her beloved was near her to witness the event.

"Just a while more. we will cleanse you as soon as the afterbirth emerges!" Anokhi  informed her.

The knowledge that she would be sequestered from the community for a month after the birth did not bother Sanyukta. Her baby would be safe in this little dhani in the desert and she would get the much deserved respite to recover from the agony her body had just endured.