Ke Pag Ghungroo

Chapter 3

That Evening
Shubhangi went around the house, doing the evening chores. She lit the lamp on the dias on the Tulsi Manch. She watered the plants, folded the dried clothes. All the time she hummed a soft tune to herself. It was actually a lori her Guruji used to sing to her. It calmed and soothed her mind giving a certain degree of peace and satisfaction. She was expecting the cook to come anytime soon, when the doorbell rang. She went to the door and froze for a moment. For a second, she couldn't comprehend who were they because she was too used to the cook's arrival at that hour.
"Hmmm...?", she questioned the new comers. Foreigners, they were. Young girls of her age , somewhere in their early twenties. Dressed in loose salwar kameez, they indeed looked adapted to this Indian environment. One of the young lady even wore a Bindi. It looked rather cute to Shubhangi and a soft chuckle escaped her lips.
" Please come in", she said when they were unable to answer the question at the door. They settled in the living room, adjacent to the open courtyard. There was a certain warmth in the house. Ancient pieces adorned the shelves and old customary wall hangings hung on the walls. The yellow walls seemed brighter even, when they reflected the lamp light of the diyaas lit around. Overall,it was quite impressing to the group and they found this very unique.
"Miss Shubhangi", began the eldest of them. " Mr. Jerry sent us here in search of true art."
A sigh, involuntarily gasped from her mouth. Disinterest clearly reflected her face as she prepared herself to say a flat "No" before heading or understanding anything what they had to say.
Nevertheless, the lady continued: "Mr. Jerry, our theatre contractor, who signed us for a stage performance here, wanted US to learn from you. And if you would be kind enough, we would be rather pleased to have you as our lead dancer."
Shubhangi crossed her arms against her chest and with a little desperation, politely rejected their offer.
"I am sorry Miss, I don't work for someone else."
"Please, Miss, we come here with high hopes", she said.
" I am sorry", came a simple reply. Flat and bold, she refused to budge from her point.
They got up to leave after a humble "Thank you". When everyone had almost left, Shubhangi went to shut the door. But before she could do so, one of the ladies returned for a last talk.
" Look, I am really not inter....", went on Shubhangi.
"But I want to know the REASON", came a pat interjection.
REASON?
It seemed a simple word. But it wasn't. Not atleast for her.
But she had a point. She couldn't be so rude to them. They ought to know the reason.
" Come in", she said. But this time her tone had softened down. Humbleness made its way into her voice.
The lady sat hesitantly on the sofa. Shubhangi found her different from others. There was a sparkle in her eyes and a look of determination. Much like she herself. And sometimes, we just tend to like someone, no specific reason though.

"I don't know of anyone else in the world but the Man who lies inside, motionless and still." Her voice had gravity and heaviness.
"I might be seven or eight when I found him or rather he found me. We had been neighbours for sometime and when Ma and PA passed away, she readily took up my responsibility. Some relations neither have the strength of blood or the support of family background... Some just happen and are bound to be. We share such a unique one."