𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒐𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒆

PART-63

Birbal: the witty advisor from the Mughal emperor, Akbar's court.

Kumbhakaran: a sleeping giant from Ramayana

-*-*-*-

"Do it fast, ladies!" Clutching the pleats of her saree, Devki hurried toward the tap across the rooftop.

The giant bulb fixed high on the boundary wall poured warm white light over the darkest hour of past 4 a.m., casting sharp shadows across the surroundings.

Almost more than half the village had gathered there the previous night to eat the prasad of Lohanda. Now, the rooftop bore quiet evidence of it - sticky patches of jaggery water, faint footprints, banana peels tossed into a corner, and splashes of spilt milk drying unevenly.

Both daughters-in-law, along with Ira and Panchhi, were bent to the task. The women's bangles were pushed up, pallus tied tight around their waists. Coconut brooms scraped rhythmically against the floor as Ira and the aunts dragged them back and forth.

Meanwhile, Panchhi stood near the pipe, half-asleep yet alert, directing the water wherever she was told. The hose jerked slightly in her grip as she adjusted the flow, cold water splashing against her feet and soaking the hem of her patiala. She wrinkled her nose, shook one foot free, then leaned forward again, obediently flooding the stubborn corners the broom couldn't reach.

"In this cold." The elder aunt slowly straightened her bent spine, one palm pressing against her lower back as she tilted her head upward. A long breath slid out of her chest, dissolving into a dry chuckle. "We're getting the feeling of summer."

The younger aunt twisted her lips, jutting them out in an exaggerated pout, and threw the coconut broom onto the wet floor with a dull slap. "Call those sleeping beauties, didi!" she snapped. "Is this house ours alone?!"

A sudden gust cut across the open rooftop, lifting the loose ends of their sarees and biting straight through damp clothes.

She shivered, goosebumps breaking out along her arms. Looking at her sister-in-law, she continued, "Since 3 a.m., we've been working like donkeys, breaking our spines, and those people are sleeping like emperors!"

"Yeah... call, call," Panchhi dragged the words from near the pipe, playing with its opening. The rubber twitched under her grip, the trapped water hissing softly each time she loosened her fingers. As the faint, uneven sound of soft snoring drifted into her ears, a devilish grin slowly crept over her face.

Ira-with her lips parted just enough for breath to escape, eyes half-closed and unfocused, head dipping and lifting like a tired pendulum-stood slumped against the cold railing. The broom rested loosely in her hand, its tail nudged against her stomach, threatening to slip away any second.

Quiet as a thought, Panchhi tilted the pipe toward her-and just as quickly bent it back.

"...shhh!"

The sudden spray of cold water dotted Ira's face and clothes. She jolted, eyes flying open, breath hitching sharp in her throat as if struck by lightning.

"What the hell, Panchhi!" she burst out, lurching forward, and yanked the pipe from her sister's grip, returning the favour with far less mercy.

"Diiiii!" Panchhi cried, half laughing, half protesting, wiping her face blindly.

"What-di?!" Ira stood there, fully awake and ready for war.

"Play, play with water."

Both cousins' heads snapped toward Vaidehi, who stood at the threshold of the staircase. The bulb's glow spilled in behind her, outlining her figure. A large brass vessel was held protectively between her right hand and waist.