The Road to Marigolds

1. Soon to be Red

The coolness of the marble floor tiles upon her back was allowing her to temporarily forget the humidity causing the loose strands of her hair to stick to the sides of her face. It was late May and monsoon season was close upon them, thus creating a dome of heat and humidity around her village as well as the surrounding ones.

On the other side of the stone wall, she could hear the futile attempts of the village mothers trying to round up their children for an afternoon nap. The echoes of their laughter and shrieking replies were enough to lull her to sleep.

Summer months were her favorite time of year. It was brutally hot and humidity was at its peak, but there was a calm to it that always kept her at ease. The occasional breeze would bring about fragrances of marigolds and juhi flowers, and she needed nothing else to put her to sleep.

It was but an hour before she awoke to the imperative nudging of her younger sister. Begrudgingly, she opened her eyes, "Priya, what is it?" Relentless, Priya continued her best efforts to get her sister off the floor. "The pujari is here! So get up!" Suddenly curious as to why the priest was visiting, Nisha sat straight up. "Why is the pujari here?" Rolling her eyes at her sister's naivety, Priya responded, "You are getting married."

Nisha was certain she should feel at least an ounce of excitement or even despair, but she felt nothing. She was eerily calm. Standing up, she brushed the dirt off her sari. Taking the thin hunter green fabric in her hand, she examined the intricate gold embroidery along the edge. 'Soon this will be red,' she thought to herself as she threw the extra fabric across her shoulder. "Chalo, Priya. Let us go to the parlor and you can tell me more of what you heard." Excited to tell her sister the results of her eavesdropping, she skipped in lead behind, the jingling of her anklet ringing with every step.

The parlor was Nisha's favorite room within the house. Being of a wealthy family, she grew up with many luxuries that she was grateful for—the parlor being one of them. It was a small room with only one sofa and a plain coffee table. There was never much need for an excess of furniture, because only herself and Priya used the room often. Her mother wanted to convert it into another bedroom to accommodate the many guests they received, but Nisha pleaded her not too. The parlor was where she would often find herself deep in thought or lost in a book. Although she only finished up to her sixth year of school, her elder cousin would teach her often within the confines of their parlor before he left to join the East India Company.

Nisha sighed. She missed him dearly with everyday that passed and sitting in the parlor only heightened the loneliness that she felt. 'I think I will write to him tonight,' she thought. However, with nothing to do about it until then, she returned her focus to her sister who was planning her entire wedding within the hour.

"Papa thinks that he will be a good match for you—your husband-to-be." Looking across the seat to her sister, Priya was concerned as to how quiet Nisha was. "Are you not happy to be married?" she asked.

Surprised by the question, Nisha looked at her sister. "Why do you ask that?"

"You have been looking at the floor since you learned of your engagement. You are to be fifteen in a few months time and have not yet received a proposal; I thought that you might have been happy to hear this news, but it seems as if I have just delivered the worst news possible."

"Priya, I do not want to be married."

Stunned by this answer, Priya just stared at her elder sister. "You have to be married. You are not to inherit any property, Kashyap will inherit it and I am doubtful that he will share a part." To be reminded that Kashyap was to inherit everything caused her stomach to twinge. Her mother had given birth to herself and Priya at a young age, but could not bear a son after due to implications with Priya's birth. It was common practice at the time to adopt a boy to leave property to, and so her parents adopted Kashyap when she was naught eight years of age.