After that scolding we received, everything was calm for the next few days. I kept my head down and followed the orders even if I had to bite my tongue at times like when I saw one of the elder guests inappropriately grazing Isha's backside when she leaned over to pick up a spoon that he had dropped. When I said elder it meant old enough to be our grandfather, deepening my repulsion further.
Amongst us, though, everyone respected each other. We treated each other well and were kind to each other. It was the richer section of the society that amazed me. They did not deem us worthy enough to be humans and felt they had the right to talk and touch us however they wished to. The women were no less than their men. They wanted to be served and yet preferred that we stayed far enough from them.
Such an abhorrent attitude was prevalent more in these so-called powerful people, I noticed, as they slowly started to fill the castle as Diwali was coming closer. If such was the culture to which the king wanted to form a familial relationship, I doubted his judgment. Such callousness and disrespect can never be justified for any amount of money.
And if the marriage did go through such people would be visiting the castle frequently. I dreaded such visits for the others. They were a happy and hardworking bunch. They never did any wrong to anyone to be treated as such. Even the male servants were propositioned by the ladies. It was harassment. Once I saw a woman approaching little Laksh. She could have harmed him in numerous ways. Maybe accused him of stealing or demanded that he leave the premises. I would never know for sure because before she could come any closer I moved between them and spoke loudly.
"There you are, lad. I was looking for you. It is time for your weekly bath. Those lice may come back if you don't keep yourself clean." At the word lice, the lady quickly pulled away and I was awarded by a questioning look from Laksh. No one here could call us dirty. The king had made sufficient provisions to ensure that we kept ourselves neat and tidy.
As I walked with Laksh I distracted him by asking questions about how much he was done with his chore list. With the festival drawing closer, each of us had two chores per minute of the day with no time to rest. We were burning the candle on both ends. I was looking forward to the day when this madness would be long over. I hoped they would allow us at least a day of rest.
I knew that the day I should have really looked forward to and worked hard to happen was me returning to my time but I was not ready to leave. Moreover, to know how to leave I had to know why. Why had I been brought to this time? And why did I feel so at ease here?
I missed my dad but I missed the dad before my mom and brother had been killed in a road rash. Since then we have become so separated. We both simmered in our survival guilt and mourned separately. I felt I had been abandoned by him too. Here, I had found familiarity and companionship. People looked out for each other, always helping and offering kind words. I went to bed tired after a day of grueling work but undoubtedly was happy.
The meal times dampened my mood for a little while as I quite still could not agree with our guests. They not only took the most care to set themselves apart as well as reminded us that we were way below their station. In subtle ways, they put down the king and queen. Were they just being polite or plain oblivious was unknown.
Serving them was the sour part of my day but it was bearable. Understanding my not-so-found feelings for our guests, I was mostly stationed in the kitchen or the yard and I was grateful for that. Sometimes, I would trail behind Isha to help her with her chores. Since getting to know we were sisters in this... narrative or timeline I wanted to know her better. Since losing my brother, I had not realized how badly I missed a sibling. She would often let me help to humor me but more often than not, I received an exasperated bemused look at my hapless attempts. She often shooed me away but I reassured her multiple times that I was there to help her.
And the very next day she called me to help her clean the prince's room. I was finally getting my chance to see him. Though I had not hoped for this when I offered her my help, I couldn't deny that I was positively giddy about this opportunity. Apparently, earlier I had been the one to do this chore so she saw it within my capability to do it again. I, however, feigned forgetfulness and asked her for a refresher. I was to change the bedding, dust the room, and the rug, bring down any clothes to wash, and things like that. Good thing there was no chamber pot to empty out.
My excitement faded when I enquired if the prince would be there. He apparently had set off for a hunt and was not expected to return till tomorrow dawn. Making a face, I gathered the cleaning supplies and slipped into the room. Unlike the previous time, I experienced no dizziness or palpitations. However, a part of me missed them, as those feelings accompanied me on my way back to my time.
Swallowing down another bout of disappointment, I walked over to the bed. Changing the bedding was the easiest part of my task. Dusting took a longer time as the room was heated by a fireplace and soot covered anything within ten feet of it. Using the pillow cover as a mask I swept off the black dust to the side. I spent almost five minutes coughing, learning a hard lesson before covering my mouth and nose with the scented pillow cover. I had not been aware the soaps and deodorants were available during this time but they were probably made from natural products rather than the synthetic products of my times.
As I cleaned the room I took curious glances towards the various articles in the room. The bed was placed against a wall with the window at the foot of the bed and chest next to it. There was a set of cupboards next to the bed. The basket which served as the hamper was empty, so no clothes had to be washed. The mantle piece above the fireplace housed many unusual objects- a knife, a pine cone, some books, and papers.
A huge painting of a horse hung in place of the usual portraits of people hung above the fireplace. In fact, the room contained no sign of the prince and I could have been afraid that I had entered the wrong room if Isha had not pointed it out to me.
The view from the window captivated me. it was green as far as the eyes could see, with forest at the boundary and hills rising above them. The cows were dotted here and there over the green background. Overall, it all looked like a picture from a postcard. A sigh escaped as a gentle breeze carrying a pleasant fragrance blew across my face, filling me up with calmness.
As I looked down, I saw the most beautiful bush of jasmine. So that was what I could smell. Having not come to this part of the castle before, I had missed them. In my eagerness to look at them closely to mark any distinctive point, I leaned over the window. If I could map out a path to these bushes, I could keep a bunch of flowers by my bedside. However, I overestimated the height of the window, causing me to almost topple over. In a brief fraction of a moment, I had made my peace that my body would be found among those beautiful flowers. That did not happen, however. A hand grabbed me by my blouse and yanked me backward.
Author's Corner:
The caste system is a part of India's history that none of us are proud of. In some parts of the country, to the greatest of misfortune, it is still a very much part of the present. Manya, though living the life of Maitri, being from the city has never had to experience such gross injustice. I admire her tactful method of dealing with such social adversaries. However, this is just first of the many more in her journey in the 13th century. So stay with her, cheer her along!
To end with something bright, suggest some of your favorite go-to fragrances!
Please do let me know your thoughts and feelings through your comments. Besides giving me direction, they are really a great boost of motivation.
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If you have hung till around this last sentence, know that you are the best and the writer of this story just wishes you nothing but the best of the best story for your life.
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PEREGRINATE
RomanceFEATURED by @WattpadTimeTravel PEREGRINATE: to make one's way through, across, or over For Manya, a sixteen-year-old, the destination was to be only Ranjgarh. It was a fresh start for her and her dad after a life-altering tragedy. But she gets more...