Dhatri

Chapter 1- The poisoned arrow

When the darkness started to turn into shades of  grey, blue, pink and yellow, I knew it was time to stop practising. Huffing from all the kicking and punching, I slowly rolled out the rags that protected my calloused girl hands. I licked my lips and tasted salt. My father's old dhoti and kameez that I had borrowed was now drenched with sweat too.

"Are you done beti?" My father asked.

I looked at the old, frail form of my father perched on the roughly held together cot at the entrance of our small hut. He made it a point to sit there every day watching me train. Barking instructions with his blind eyes fixed on me. If I didn't know better, I would have thought that he could actually see.

"Yes, babuji," I said and ran to support him as he did not have his crutch at hand.

"No!" He gruffly slapped away my hand.

"I can walk around my own home by myself." He said. "Isn't it time for you to take out the cattle?"

"Yes, babuji," I said as he hobbled into the thatched hut that we called home to get my food ready.

I still remembered the proud strong man, dressed in the country's uniform as he left for the war. When he came back, he had lost his left leg, the sight in his eyes had deteriorated. When my mother passed away a few years later, his heart broke too. But on the outside, he still was the same proud man.

I hurried and splashed cold water on my face. It did little to freshen me but it was getting late. I wore my blouse and skirt and haphazardly wrapped the dupatta around me. I put on my crude metal jewellery and ran kohl under my eyes. When I stepped out, my father squinted his faint eyes.

"My pretty girl!" he said making sure that I knew it was not a compliment. He snorted as he handed me a couple of stale Rotis wrapped in a piece of cloth.

"Well, maybe more practice will turn me into a boy." I rolled my eyes. I did not need more reminders that I am the daughter he never wanted. He had hoped, wished and prayed for a boy who could carry his legacy forward. He was disappointed that he had to make-do with me and made sure that I never forgot it. 

Before he could say more, I ran out and headed towards my masi's house. When I got there, I did not go into the house for I knew that masi would have some words for me. I tiptoed into the cattle shed and helped the two cows and the new sweet calf out.

"Dhatri!" My masi called out as I was hurrying out.

"Yes, Masi," I said as I turned around with a grudging smile.

"Were you heading out without saying Namaste to me?"

"Um, no Masi..."

"Yes, yes... I know you very well." She cut me short. "Just look at you. Is this how a young girl dresses?" I braced myself for the usual onslaught. "Shabbily dressed, no taste in jewellery, no bindi..." she counted on her fingers.

"Your father must realize that you are a young girl to be married soon. What man will marry a girl who punches and kicks at the trees all day long?"

While my father kept trying to bring out the boy in me, my masi, my mother's younger sister, insisted on preserving what little femininity I had in me.

"Masi, please don't start." I moaned "How about we talk about this when I get back?"

"No one listens to me. How I wish your mother was alive to teach you how to be a girl..." She droned on.

I don't think masi even heard what I said. I shook my head, rolled my eyes and kissed her on her cheek. That always seemed to calm her down.

"Love you, masi," I said and headed to the forest.