The Cinderella Of Rewa

5. Vedika

It was a melancholic evening when all the inmates of the Thakur mansion gathered on the banks of the river Bischya. The river plummeted down Rewa with passion, like it always did, not aware that the city which it flowed through had just lost a precious son.

A young servant boy of twenty-one stood infront of Yashvant Thakur's body, with tears in his eyes, ready to perform his son-less master's funeral rites.

All the men stood in the front while Vedika stood behind with the other women. From where she was, she could not even see her father's body properly.

The crowd was huge. Hundreds had come to pay their last respects to the great man who had gone too early. With bloodshot eyes and resentment in her mind, Vedika looked at the boy standing infront of her father's pyre.

Ranga, who worked in the stables had been Yashvant's favourite servant boy. He had brought him home from the streets and had always treated him like a son. It had always been his wish to be cremated by Ranga after his death.

Still, Vedika couldn't help feeling wronged. Her father didn't have sons but there was she. Why didn't society allow daughters to perform the funeral rites of their parents? She had loved her father more than any child loved their parent and all she got was a spectator's seat at his funeral.

Even as Ranga lit the pyre and Yashvant's body went up in embers, Vedika's mind could not encompass the fact that her father was gone. A childish hope that when she walked home her father would be waiting in the courtyard for her, thronged in Vedika's mind.

She looked sideways at the three women who were her only remaining family. Devoleena was squeezing out tears. Sonakshi and Madhuri bustled around her seeming more concerned about her dramatic bawls than the death of the man who had given them a new home.

Vedika's lips formed a straight angry line. She knew very well that her father had treated her step sisters nothing like how Daju Ma had treated her.

He had bought them several gifts, attempted so many conversations with them and made endless efforts to spend time with them. But the ungrateful bitches couldn't display an ounce of genuine grief on his death.

Vedika looked around. There had been hundreds of people who had walked upto her since morning and offered their sincerest condolences to her. But Vedika knew they had no idea what she was feeling.

Her father's business rivals and acquaintances stood around with solemn faces but Vedika knew they were only too glad to be rid of Yash. Their eyes would now automatically dart upon his ample wealth which did not have a male heir. The responsibility of the family trade too would be given to Daju Ma now. If she didn't play her cards well enough, the male-dominated trade world would easily exploit the Thakurs' business.

Vedika knew her stepmother wouldn't find it too difficult as other women to protect both the business and the large household. The woman was evil enough for anything. Daju Ma wouldn't let her father's hard earned trade empire go down the drain.

In her heart of hearts, Vedika wished she could ask her stepmother and stepsisters to leave the house and take charge of the house and her father's trade. But she knew that was simply not possible. Everything was already in Daju Ma's name.

Vedika felt the only ones who were genuinely grieved about her father's death were a few of the servants and perhaps the animals in the house.  Yash had been unwaveringly generous to all of his employees - both humans and animals. Nobody would've treated their horses with the love that he had. He always spoke to them like they were his children. From the morning, Vedika hadn't heard a single sound from the stables or the cowshed or the backyard where the dogs were kept. The animals could tell something was wrong.