Sajjan looked at Amar as he walked away to his cowshed. Didn’t bolt, but shut the door behind him. He turned around and started looking at the main room. His sight was arrested by an old fashioned armchair.
His body felt a desperate need to slip into it and rest. He was tired. He had been awake – the entire journey. Yet, he knew, he had lot of work to be done in a limited time frame. He was in this town for a specific purpose and a mission. He had to work to achieve what he had travelled into this town for…
He was pondering for a while when he heard a faint knock on the main door. He opened and saw nobody…
“This is for you Uncle.”
He glanced down at the voice. A sweet little girl in her school dress held a jar full of milk in her tiny hands, smiling wide at him. He took the jug of milk from her.
“Tea, coffee and sugar are in the kitchen. Drink what you like”, she chirped enthusiastically, trying to recall what she had to convey to Sajjan. He knelt down so that his eyesight was at the same level as her.
“Hey” he said gently, “Thank you so much. What’s your name?”
“I’ll tell you later. I’m getting late for my school. My bus is waiting for me at the door.” she shouted her reply even as she ran toward the main gate, over to the waiting school bus. He smiled at her bubbly innocence. He waived her bye even as she boarded the school bus. In the meantime, hearing their voices the adivasi girl had walked out of the kitchen in time to watch him waive at the school bus. He almost bumped into her as he turned around with the jug of milk. She took the jug from him.
“Tea or coffee?’ she asked.
“Anything you prefer…”
“I drink only milk – So?”
“I’ll have tea.”
She vanished into the kitchen and he could hear the sounds of her fidgeting around in the kitchen. Curiously, he peeped into the kitchen. She was trying to light up the chulha. He saw her smile as she succeeded. This meant, she was okay with this kind of kitchen and could use it for her cooking. He sat in the armchair, his mind racing away at the plans he had made to achieve The Mission of his Life and the tasks he had at hand to lead him to it…
The chain of his thoughts was broken as he looked at the cup of tea she held for him. She smiled and sat down on the floor looking at his satisfied expression even as he sipped on the tea she prepared.
“Why did you allow him to think that I’m your wife?” she asked curiously.
“I’ll let you know. Maybe, in few days, you’ll realize why I let him think so…” he smiled.
“I don’t mind pretending to be your wife when people are around. But, don’t expect me to be your wife when you go to bed” she said in a decisive tone.
“Don’t worry. I won’t” he said solemnly. “You got to trust me. If you have noticed, I haven’t touched you since the time we met.”
“Yes. I trust you. That’s the reason I’m here with you and ready to pretend to be your wife, holed up in this house. I trusted that you were a good man, the moment you opened that door and let me in.”
“Good” he smiled and got off the armchair wearily. He was tired.
“I’ll now go to the bazaar to get us the groceries. We will need to cook our own meals from evening onward. I’ll heat up the water for your bath. Will take some time…”
He knew the place was old fashioned and used only wood and dried cow dung as fuel to heat up anything you want.
He looked at her in disbelief, “Hey! Wait a minute. I can see, you had your bath. Did you have it with cold water? – I didn’t see or smell a fire.”
“Yes” she smiled, “I’m used to taking my bath with cold water. Though, I have heard that hot water bath is refreshing.”
“Oh! I’m used to cold water bath too.” he picked up his duck bag which was still sitting where he had placed it when he had entered, and walked into the inner room to which the bathroom was attached.
He started unpacking the bag and was immediately aware that she was peeking into it from behind. He smiled and beckoned her to sit on the bed next to the bag. She looked at him a bit ashamed but was curious and sat on the bed. “I told you. I don’t carry anything that can be stolen and sold for a fortune.”
He pulled out few simple cotton clothes, a small box, containing his shaving kit and few medicines. Then he pulled out few odd accessories like a hollow rod made of heavy strong metal. Then a heavy wooden piece, triangular in shape, curved at one end and elongated at the other end, then few odd kerchiefs, etc.
“What are these for?” she looked at his odd accessories.
“Sweetheart… You know that I scout around in jungles and various remote locations. We met at one such location…”
“Yes. That’s where my tribe lives.”
“You don’t get basic amenities there. Do your people use chairs to sit or tables to serve food?”
“No – They have recently come to know that such things exist and can be used. This was when Rajasaab visited our tribe. His volunteers got these along for his comfort. He promised a lot of things. It was almost 2-3 years ago. I was behind our hut and I heard it all.”
“So – what did you feel – about what he said? Did you understand his promises?”
“Yes. I did. His promises were too good to be true.” she had a sad tone, “he promised us equipment which will help us in creating small fields where we could farm and grow our own food. He said he will construct a school at a central location in the jungle and children from all tribes would benefit…” a tear rolled down her cheek. “It was too good as a dream and I would have loved to be a part of that developmental project.”
“Did it happen? Did you become a part of that project?”
“No. I was away. My mother told me, after that day, few people came to our tribe and took photos of everyone. Then they handed over a white card to everyone and said that they were election cards. There would be a van at a specific location at the edge of the jungle and they all were supposed to go there and put a mark on a particular sign which they showed. They said this will help Rajasaab in getting funds for the development he had promised.”
“What happened next?”
“Enough – aren’t you getting late to go to the bazaar? If you don’t go there, we will have to sleep hungry.” she giggled playfully…