ADVENTURE WITH GRANDMA

My grandmother, like all grandmothers, is old. Very old. She has white hair and wrinkles. When she laughs, her eyes disappear into the wrinkles. One minute here and the next gone!! Her lap is the softest and I can just curl up and sleep there for ages, soothed with her worn, callused yet soft hands at my brow. She is always dressed in shades of white with a huge dot of red on her forehead. I have never seen her idle. Her hands are always busy. Busy with making the perfect pitha, grinding rice and dal in that terribly heavy stone and mortar. I swear that thing weighs a ton. She says that she got it on her back from her village to Grandpa’s village. Really!!! I am not sure if she is serious or just joking with me. When I was small, I loved sleeping cuddled up with her. She has a lovely fragrance, a fragrance that holds me safe and loved. Who would have thought this gentle old lady was a firebrand during the freedom struggle. This is her story.

Yashoda Devi, the eldest daughter of the Zamindar of Baligaon. Yashoda Devi was just 10 years old when her marriage was fixed with a demure, young, teacher from Cuttuck. He was Baidyanath, who had come to Baligaon as a teacher at the village school. Zamindar Babu was charmed by the young man's wit and intelligence. “He will be perfect for my eldest daughter,” he thought and called him to the main house. “Baidyanath, I would like to meet your parents. Write to them and tell them I will come to Cuttuck in a week. I am thinking of marrying my daughter to you. Do you have any problem with that?”

“Your great grandfather could be very decisive. It was all decided before anyone could even blink. I was married but nothing really changed. I was still in my parents house and your grandfather was now working in Cuttuck. My father wanted me to finish my schooling so we came to Bhubaneshwar. My father had set up the house there and the school was nearby. My second sister and I were to be schooled.”

“Did you go then, Aai?” I asked. I could not imagine her going to school with a school bag, “ and did you wear a uniform, like I do?” I was very curious. My grandmother shook with silent laughter. “Ah no no. No uniform. We used to wear half sarees but I did not go to school. It was a missionary school and they were very strict. I felt very patriotic at refusing to study angrezi but now I wish I had at least studied the language.”

“Anyways, our house in Bhubaneshwar was a big rambling one. It had so many rooms and passages. Half of the house was quite abandoned. My father was always busy but our mother stayed with us. We had servants to help us in the house. Our tutor used to come home to teach us.” She paused to make a pan from her pandan. There was a process in preparing the pan and her fingers moved elegantly as she wiped the pan and cut slivers of areca nut. “It was a time of great chaos and upheaval. Everywhere was a cry for freedom and everyone was affected by it. We had no sense of the urgency but one day it was brought to us quite suddenly and with clarity. That day, Masterji had gone back early. My mother and I were looking over some patterns for embroidery, when we heard knocking. The servants were in the kitchen and in the back rooms so I went to see who it was”.

My grandfather had come in at that time and was listening to her, with a smile on his lips. She looked at him and said, “I had never thought that I would see your grandfather in such conditions. Though we were married, we still had to start living together so it was a shock to see him standing there with another person who was shot in the shoulder. He just nodded at me and asked me to quickly close the door and help him with his friend. I was standing there with my jaw hanging open. My mother shut the door with a snap. She quickly brought medical supplies.There in the closed room my mother and I treated the wounded man.”

She picked up a hand held fan and waved it about. “After first aid, we took him to a room at the very back of the house. It was rarely visited by anyone. There, we fashioned a bed for him. I went to the kitchen and feigned hunger. Maharaj ji grumbled but I was his favourite so he quickly made me some food. I ran back to the room with food and water. Your grandfather’s friend was unconscious but he was very hungry. I have not seen any person wolf down food so fast.”

“Arrey, I had been hungry for the two days. We were travelling at night and had to stay hidden at night. The police were on the look-out for us. There was only one place I knew where we would be safe.”

My Grandma continued with the story,“My mother was always careful. She sent for her trusted servant and asked him to contact my father. Meanwhile, we were not aware of what was happening outside. I just couldn’t concentrate on my studies. Then a few days after the incident, my sister and I were coming back from the market and we were stopped at the checkpost. The police asked our driver all sorts of questions. I kept my ears open and thus I learned that there was a notice against your grandfather and a reward for his capture.”

“What happened then?Was Grandpa captured?” I asked with my heart in my mouth. “No”, said Grandma, “All thanks to me. I came back and told your Grandpa how the police were searching for him. He was troubled as he had been planning to go out that night with important letters to his compatriots.” “Then, what happened?” I asked. The story was at its most suspenseful best. My grandma said, “Nothing happened. I told grandpa that I would help him with the letters but I had no idea how.”

“Then how did you help?”I asked. Grandma looked at me and said, “I will tell you later. Now it is dinner time and I still have to cook. Tell me, what will you eat? Rice, dal and fish fry or Chakuli pitha with dal.”

“Aai, that’s not fair. I want to know what happened”. I said and I am sure even you are interested but Aai… she will not say anything now. Hopefully, after dinner, I can ask her to continue the story. Till then, hold on to patience as I am holding on.                 

So, where were we? Ah, I remember now. Nani had stopped the story right at the moment it reached a fascinating twist—and for what? For dinner! Well, after dinner, we were all sitting out on the terrace. Nana and Nani owned a lovely little house in Puri, where all of us—siblings, uncles, and aunts—would gather during every vacation. That night, just as always, soft mattresses were laid out across the terrace in a neat, geometric pattern. Nana had lit lanterns and candles all around, casting a gentle glow over everything. My siblings and I were already tucked into our beds, snuggling deep within the warm, soft sheets. “Nani, Nani! You simply *must* finish telling us the story. None of us will get a wink of sleep without it. Come on, Nani—come sit right here in the very center, and we’ll all listen to you. Everyone, quiet down—if you want to find out what happens next!”

“Aha! Someone seems very impatient. Alright then. So, where was I? Hmm... Yes—I had told your Nana that I would help him, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out *how* to go about it. I was feeling quite anxious, too. If the police were conducting checks on every single road, how could anyone possibly venture outside—and with such crucial letters in hand, no less?”

Nani gently stroked my head and continued, “The very next morning, I was sitting by the kitchen window, peeling potatoes. My mother was quite strict about us learning every aspect of running a household; it was considered our duty to assist the cook and the other staff with the meal preparations. Anyway, I happened to spot Tikuni—our local fisherwoman—who had come by to sell her catch. She lived in the Nuari Sahi neighborhood and helped her father with the fishing and selling. She was dressed in her traditional fisherwoman’s sari, and a pungent, fishy odor was wafting strongly from her basket. But that very smell—that gave me an idea.” “I ran to meet her and asked if she would help me play a prank on someone.” “Play a prank on someone?” I asked. “But weren't you supposed to be helping Nana? You wanted to tease *him*.” I just couldn't make sense of it. Our parents were listening in as well, and they burst out laughing. Nana said, “Have patience, child. The story isn't over yet.” “Oh, obviously, I couldn't tell her the *real* plan. Anyway, she agreed. I asked her to bring an extra basket of fish, my old sari, and some soot the following night. I promised that once the job was done, I would give her a new sari and a silver nose ring; then, I quickly went off to tell your Nana to be ready with all the letters. He was a whole other headache. ‘What will you do? How will you manage? Who else is going with you?’ Pfft! So many questions, and not a single useful one among them.”

Nana interjected, “Oh, I was worried about you! I know you all too well. You’d jump off a cliff without a second thought.” “Ha! As if *you* know everything,” Nani retorted. “That night, after everyone had finished eating and gone to sleep, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the back room. There, your Grandpa was already waiting, ready with his papers. Then, we quietly made our way to the back door, where I had arranged to meet Tikuni. She was there, looking utterly bewildered and anxious. She had with her some baskets of fish and an old, tattered sari. I took the sari, stepped behind the door, and quickly put it on. Tikuni helped me; then, I took some soot from the lantern and smeared it over my face, hands, and feet. I stepped out from behind the door, and…” Nani burst into loud laughter. “Your Grandpa looked at me, and his jaw dropped. I looked completely different. Your Grandpa insisted that he would come along, too. Oh! That man. He was always so stubborn. So, I told him that he had better disguise himself as well.”

“No, you actually said, ‘If the police catch you, I’ll claim I don’t know you at all!’” Grandpa interjected. “Yes, I did say that. I didn’t want him to take the risk—but does he ever listen to a word I say? Anyway, the three of us slipped out of the house. I can’t even tell you—my heart was pounding so hard! I felt as though the police would be able to hear it from a hundred kilometers away.” Grandpa now took up the thread of the story: “We reached the main square. The house we were heading to was located in a lane just off the square, but right across from the square itself, there was a heavy police presence. We paused in the shadows of the Rajmahal Hotel. I told your *Ai* to go back with Tikuni, but your *Ai* never listens to anyone. She simply shook off my hand and calmly walked straight toward the barricade. Tikuni and I hurried after her. A burly policeman was stationed at the barricade. He asked who she was and what she was doing there.” Nana looked at Nani affectionately and said, “I have never seen such a brave girl. Your mother told the policeman—in the authentic dialect of the fishermen—that she was on her way to sell fish to Bankim Babu, who lives just past the main square, near the water tank. The policeman insisted that he had to inspect her basket. I swear, I was trembling. The letters were tucked beneath the fish, inside an oilskin envelope. If they had overturned the basket, it would have been the end of us. Your mother calmly handed over the basket, and that brute tipped it out. All the fish—along with the foul-smelling nets—came tumbling down onto the policeman’s gleaming shoes. Then, your mother began to scream at the top of her lungs, cursing the man and wailing that he had ruined her fish; she demanded to know what she was supposed to sell now, where she would get the money, and how she would afford medicines for her father. Tikuni and I were left completely stunned, but then Tikuni, too, burst into tears and began to scream. The policeman was left utterly shell-shocked. He quickly told your mother to gather up her fish.”

“And the barricade was opened. We all stepped out through the gate. Your *Ai* was still screaming, weeping, and cursing. We ran down the lane alongside her, and there, she collapsed in a fit of laughter. It had all been an act—and the policeman had fallen right into the trap. That was when I realized that your *Ai* was the bravest and cleverest person of all.”

Nani simply crinkled her nose and remarked, “As if you would have succeeded without me!” “But *Ai*, where were the letters? He had overturned your basket, so where were they?” I asked. Everyone else was laughing, but I felt compelled to ask all the crucial questions.

Nani replied, “They were right there. The basket I was carrying was actually two baskets woven together as one. I had tucked the letters away inside the attached basket. That way, the letters were safe—hidden from prying eyes and protected even from the fishbones. We reached our destination, and the letters were handed over safely. Then, we headed back. Thankfully, the policeman had moved on, and the path was clear. We ran all the way back home and arrived before anyone could suspect a thing. The very next day, pamphlets and posters were plastered all across the city, and the police had absolutely no clue how it had happened.”

“Wow! You’re a total rockstar, *Ai*. Did you ever do something like that again? Did Tikuni help you out a second time?” I asked. I could hardly believe that my Nani had been so incredibly brave.

Nani smiled and said, “Yes, but that is a story for another day. Come along now; go to sleep. We have a very busy day ahead of us tomorrow.” Yes, tomorrow was going to be a magnificent day. Tomorrow—on the eve of our Republic Day—my maternal grandparents are to be honored at a special ceremony in Puri for their acts of bravery. Can you even imagine the hardships we endured to secure our freedom? Think of how many people, in so many different ways and with such immense courage, fought that battle for our independence. Now, it is our responsibility to safeguard this nation and lead it forward.

 

KHOJ

आज पूछा किसी ने खोज के बारे में बोलना है।

ऐसी कोई चीज जो तुम्हारी थी और खो गई हो।

जिसका पता तुम्हें था, पर अब नहीं हो।

ऐसी एक  दो या अनेकों चीजें जो समय के साथ खो गई हो।

बहुत समय से सोच रही थी कि हां मुझे बोलना है,

बताना है कि कुछ नहीं काफी कुछ खो गया है।

समय के साथ उन चीज़ों की यादें भी धुंधली हो चली हैं।

आज कुछ वक्त निकला है, चुप चाप सी दुपहरी में

वो बंद पड़े बक्से की चाबी उठायी है।

अभी तो बस बक्से को देख रही हूं।

हिम्मत जुटा रही हूं, पुराने ताले खोलने के लिए।

पता नहीं क्या कुछ मिलेगा, या शायद कुछ भी ना मिलेगा।

एक डर है मन में, उन चीज़ों को देख कर अपने आज से परेशान तो ना होंगी।

कल परसों की चीजें हैं, पुरानी सी पर अब भी लगती है कुछ अपनी सी।

देखो, क्या मिला

एक डायरी जिसमें कुछ लिखा है

पन्ने पलटे तो लगा वापस उसी मोड़ पर अपने आप को देख रही थी।

दो चुटिया बनाए, कलम को अपने दांतों में दबा

कुछ गहरी सोच और कुछ गहरी लाइनें

अरे देखो, एक ब्रश और छोटी छोटी पन्नों में काले पेंट से दूर पहाड़ बने हुए

ये भी है उस वक्त का जब हाथ में ब्रश या कलम आते ही, किताबों के किनारे पे उभर आती थी एक तस्वीर।

पुराने जर्द पड़े धागों में घुंघरू, कुछ टूटे हुए, कुछ अभी भी बजते हुए

पता नहीं, इस बकसे में कब बंद हो गए?

ये जो मेरी चीज़ थी

हम्म्म्म...खैर जाने दो, कुछ यादें उनकी बस रहने दो।

शायद फिर किसी दिन इनकी ज़रूरत पड़े

आज इन्हें यहीं फिर रहने दो.

TREASURES FROM THE SAMUDRA MANTHAN

 This story comes to us from our ancient mythology. It is a story of planets and eclipses. 

A very long time ago, the devas and the asuras were fighting and it was a long fight with no ending in sight. The devas were exhausted. They went to the three primal gods- the Tridevs, Brahma, Vishnu and Mahadeva. “Lords, we are tired. The asuras just don’t let up and the worst thing is that Shukracharya uses the Sanjeevani Mantra to revive the dead asuras. In the morning, we are faced with the same asuras that we killed the day before. It is physically draining. You have to do something. We can’t continue fighting and leave all our jobs. How will the universe work if all that we keep doing is fight the same asuras over and over again.”

The Tridevs looked at each other. Mahadeva said, “They do have a point.” Brahma said, “Yes. It must be boring doing the same work again and again.” Vishnu said, “Hmmm. I think we need a solution and I know the perfect plan. We need amrit.”

Mahadeva said, “Oh yes! That will do the work but isn’t amrit inside the ksheer sagar. How will we get it out?” 

Vishnu said, “Oh Mahadeva, you have hit the nail on the head. Hmmm. If Indra and all the devas agree, I have a plan but it will require the help of our enemies too. Are you ok with it?”

Indra and the devas looked at each other in complete and utter confusion. “Are you sure, Lord that we need help from the Asuras. You know how cunning they are.”

Vishnu nodded, “I know they are cunning but do you have faith in me? That is the question.”

Indra and the other devas said in unison, “Ah Lord. We do have faith in you. Do whatever you think right. We will ask the asuras for help.”

Vishnu smiled and said, “Tell them the truth. Tell them that we will churn the ocean to get amrit and that amrit will be divided equally.”

Indra was gobsmacked, “Seriously. We need to divide the amrit with them. What are you thinking? They already have Sanjeevani and now you want them to get amrit. I am confused but Ok, whatever you think is right.”

Vishnu then said, “I want you to promise me another thing. You will not act in haste, not even when the asuras snatch something. You will maintain divine decorum at all times. Do you agree?”

The devas agreed though they looked uncomfortable.Then Vishnu said, “Ok. Issue the invitation to the asuras. Call Mount Mahendra to act as the whisk and call for the serpent king Vasuki. He will act as the rope. Go on. Let the churning begin.”

The devas hurried off to do their tasks. The asuras were invited. Shukracharya was sceptical, “The devas want our help. Strange. There must be a hidden motive behind this. I don’t think we should accept.” but the asura king was confident, “Arrey Guruji. What can these weak devas do? They are losing the battle so badly and it will be a chance to get the treasures of the ocean. We should accept.” “Do what you think is right.” said Shukracharya.

The Mahendra mountain was happy to help as was Vasuki. The stage was set. Vasuki wrapped himself around the mountain. The devas picked up the tail and the asuras held the head of Vasuki. Now the churning began but arrey arrey… the mountain sank beneath the ocean. “Now what!!! Lord help us.” the Gods cried out. 

Vishnu smiled and said, “Do not worry so much. I will act as the stand for the churner”. Saying this Vishnu took the form of a giant turtle, the kacchapa avatar. He plunged into the frothy waters and bore Mount Mahendra on his back. All cheered and the churning started with great gusto.

Vasuki was tired of the chuffing and the not so gentle handling. He spewed out a vast amount of the deadly poison, halahal. The skies darkened, the waters seethed and the air sizzled. The poison was terrible. “Oh Lord, now what do we do?”

The only one who could contain the poison was none other than Mahadeva. He rose from his seat, waded into the seething waters, cupped his palms and drank the halahal in one swift movement. Parvati rushed forward and laid her cool fingers on Mahadeva’s throat. The poison stopped there and the throat turned blue. “ Mahadeva, you have saved us. We will call you Neelkanth from now on”.

Soon treasures started revealing themselves from the ksheer sagar. Kaustubha, the gem which is worn by Vishnu. Kamadhenu, the wish giving cow, Parijat, the divine flowering tree found in the garden of heaven, the divine dancing apsaras like Rambha and Menaka. Various other herbs. Goddess Lakshmi, the eternal consort of Vishnu and finally Dhanvantri, the god of medicine with a brimming pot of amrita in his hands.

And that’s when things went down. The asuras dropped vasuki’s head and snatched the pot of amrita from dhanvantari. The devas looked unsure but they had promised Vishnu that they wouldn't fight. 

Just then a golden light sparkled and from that light emerged a gorgeous woman. She was a beauty incarnate. Her long lustrous hair, her doe eyes, her smiling lips. Everything captivated the asuras and devas alike. The asuras begged her to divide the amrit between them. Mohini, the enchantress smiled and said, “Dear Asuras, are you really sure you want me to give you the amrita?” “Yes, Yes “, screamed the asuras. Mohini smiled and said, “As you wish but you will not question me at all. Is that ok with you?”

The asuras agreed. Mohini said, “Go and take a bath , all of you and sit in two rows. Devas to my right and asuras to my left. I will walk down the row and give the amrita”. All the devas and asuras agreed with the beautiful Mohini. Soon they sat down in two rows facing each other and Mohini stepped daintily forward. She poured a bit of the amrit into the cups held by Indra, then Varuna, Agni, Chandra, Surya and the countless devatas. The asuras squirmed in their seats but they had given their word to Mohini so how could they go back on it now.

Then at the far end of the line Svarbahnu, that wily asura disguised himself as a deva. He crept into the line but the sharp eyed Chandra and the ever vigilant Surya called him out. Mohini had already given him two sips of the nectar by then. Vishnu called the Sudarshan Chakra and cut off his neck. Svarbhanu had already had the two sips so he couldn’t die though his body was cut in half. Svarbhanu screamed at Surya and Chandra, “You have made me your eternal enemy. I will gobble you both for sure.” saying this , the demon started to stalk Chandra and Surya. This is how eclipses happen and svarbhanu became known as Rahu and Ketu. 

After the confrontation with Svarbhanu, Mohini disappeared in a flash of lightning leaving the Asuras angry. They rushed at the devas to avenge the insult and a full on war started. The devas, fortified by the amrit, fought back and soon the asura army was defeated and pushed back to the patal lok. The devas reclaimed their rightful place in svarga and order was established.

Mahadeva looked at Vishnu and smirked, “That was a neat trick and I think Mohini was one of your most clever avatar. She asked for nothing, challenged nothing, had no weapons but still changed the course of the events. Marvelous.”

Brahma too leaned down from his lotus throne and said, “The asuras did not know what just hit them. It was quite devious, my lord.”

Vishnu smiled as he lay back on Sesh Nag, “Well, the end justifies the means. I did whatever I did to restore balance. You know I hate chaos and the asuras were just making too much noise. Now I can sleep. Well, see you both next time the world goes crazy.”

 THE GIRL THAT GREW FLOWERS- A fairy tale

A long time ago in the kingdom of Vaishali, lived  a young girl. Malalti was her name and she lived with her old grandmother. Her parents had died when she was young. Her grandmother and she had come to Vaishali after that. The grandmother was a florist. She grew and tended flowers and sold them at the temple gates. At first the flower sellers at the temple were annoyed to see another vendor but something about the grandmother made them hesitate. Soon, they became friendly with the grandmother and Malati became their favourite. The grandmother’s shop had flowers of many different kinds. Some which were quite unusual. When people asked her about the flowers, she replied, “ Oh! My friends send me these flowers and I sell them here.”

As time passed, Malati became a beautiful young woman. She was graceful and her movements were dignified. People thought that she looked like a princess. Her grandmother was growing old. She knew that her time on the earth was less so she called Malati and told her, “Malati, I have to tell you many things before I pass. You are no ordinary girl, in fact you are the daughter of the Flower queen.” “What??? Me. Daughter of the flower queen. How is that possible? Where are my parents then? How did we come to Vaishali?”

“Let me speak, child. We are flower guardians and we lived in the far ridges of the Mainak Mountains up in the north. My daughter, your mother fell in love with the crown prince of Mewat. He came to us and begged your mother’s hand in marriage. Her father and I were troubled because we knew that people would not understand her powers over flowers but what could we do? In spite of all the misgivings, we agreed to the marriage. We just told your father to take care and never to divulge her powers. Then , many years later just when you were born, we received an urgent message from your father urging us to come to Mewat.” 

Malati’s grandmother took a sip of water and then continued with tears in her eyes, “We hurried but we were too late. The palace was in ruins. Its gates were hanging on their hinges and there was bloodshed everywhere we saw. My heart was in my mouth as we reached the inner palace. There , lay your mother, her throat slit and your father sat holding you and her in his lap. His sides were stained with blood and he was labouring for breath. He begged us to take care of you and then with slow breath told us how a so called magician had turned the entire population against their queen, your mother, all because she had refused to worship him with flowers especially created by her.”

Malati furrowed her eyebrows, “Created by her. I don’t understand. How could she create flowers?” Her grandmother said, “So can you. Have you ever noticed how a certain flower changes colour once you caress it? I knew then that your powers are stronger than your mothers. I too can create flowers but my flowers lack smell. Yours look exactly like you envisioned. I was waiting for the day to start teaching you mantras but now I can’t wait anymore. Go, get two pitchers of water and lock the door.”

Malati brought two pitchers of water and sat down next to her grandma. Her grandma waved her hand over one of the pitchers,muttering spells all the time. Then she sprinkled that water on the floor and hey presto, a trailing vine of sweet smelling desert rose, in vivid red sprouted from the vacant floor. Then, she waved her hand over the other pitcher and sprinkled the water over the vine. The flowers disappeared leaving behind the sweet smell of the roses. Malati said tremblingly, “ Grandma, I thought of sunflowers yesterday when I had gone out and suddenly, I saw many of them over in the corner of the garden but I had not sprinkled any water, so how come they appeared there?” “My darling, you are a natural flower empath so they obey your whispered wishes but you have to be careful of your powers. I will teach you how to control your power.” said her grandmother.

Days passed and Malati learnt how to control her powers and her talent at producing flowers grew. Her grandmother, meanwhile, became ill and could hardly get up from her bed. Malati took up the shop at the temple and started selling flowers there. One day, a well-to-do lady came to Malati and said, “ I have heard that you can procure flowers that no one else can. I need 100 blue lotuses tomorrow for a puja. Can you please help me? I have come here after searching for a long time.” Malati looked troubled , “ Ma’am I can try but it will take some time to procure the flowers.” The lady said, “Please help me. This puja is for my son’s health. He has been unwell for a long time. Please help me. I will give you as much money as you want.” Malati agreed. She came back home and told her grandmother who looked troubled. “Malati, blue lotus takes a lot of work. Be careful.” Malati took a deep breath and carefully centered herself. Muttering the spells, she sprinkled water and the room was filled with blue lotus. The next day she took the lotuses to the temple. The lady was ecstatic. After the puja was done, she rushed to Malati. Giving her a hug, she said, “ Malati, thank you. Your flowers helped me complete the puja.” Malati was soon asked by many to help them with exotic flowers. 

One day, a royal procession came to the temple. The king, queen and the prince all stepped out. They had heard of the girl who could bring the flowers one desired. The prince was captivated by that story and told his parents that he would marry only that girl and no one else. They decided to test Malati and asked her for the beautiful Kadamba flowers for a special puja. Malati was taken aback but this was the order of the king, how could she refuse. Her grandmother was also terrified but what could they do? Malati sat down to meditate and conserve her powers. She sprinkled consecrated water over the floor and there in the old hut, grew a tall kadamba tree bowed down with fragrant flowers. Malalti gathered the flowers and then the tree disappeared. However, this scene was seen by the prince who had followed Malati back home.

He entered the hut and ordered Malati to show her powers again. “Show me what all flowers can you grow?” Malati and her grandmother were scared. Malati looked at the prince with tears in her eyes and said, “Prince, it takes immense power to create one flower. How can I show you a whole garden? It will destroy me.” The Prince looked at the girl and then said, “ Fine. I have seen what you can do and I don’t want to hurt you. Will you marry me and I will protect you so that no one can take away your powers.” Malati agreed and so the wedding was held. Malati’s grandmother blessed her and gave her a diamond ring with a flower embedded in the centre. She said, “ My dear, this is the best gift that I can give you. When you feel overwhelmed by the world, use this ring and it will transport you to our flower garden. I am very sorry but I feel my time slipping away. You have to be strong but never compromise on your dignity and self respect.” Soon, Malati’s grandmother died leaving her forlorn.

The prince was true to his words and never let her feel sad. He always protected her and they were happy as they could be. However, as times passed, things began to get a little difficult. Malati could not go out alone anywhere. The nobles were angered that the prince had chosen some common person as his wife so they humiliated her and treated her as someone who was lesser than them. One day, the king decided to throw a banquet for all. All the noblemen and their wives and daughters showed up dressed to the hilt.  Malati adorned herself with flowers and she looked ethereal. The prince was charmed as was the king but the others looked down on her with disdain. They mocked her and taunted her. The prince could not anger the court so he kept quiet. Malati heard everything and then looked at the prince with tears in her eyes. “You had promised me that you would protect me. Isn’t my dignity worth anything? Why should I be humiliated? I had not asked you to marry me. Why should I be punished when it was you who wanted this marriage? You have heard people humiliate me. You have seen me cry yet it hasn’t bothered you at all. Okay, if you can’t protect me then I will protect myself.” Malati then left the banquet hall. The prince was surprised at her outburst but then thought, “ Malati is angry right now but it is fine. I will make it up to her after some time.” So he remained at the banquet.

Malati came to her room and very carefully took off her flower ornaments. Her room was cheerful with flowers overflowing everywhere. She had tended the flowers with care and they had multiplied. However, right now the room churned with many thoughts. Hers and her flowers. She looked into the mirror and saw a sad face peeping out. Malati loosened her hair and stepped out of the silken garments. She wore her soft old comfortable clothes, wiped out all makeup, freshened her kajal and tucked a parijat flower into her unbound hair. Then she took the ring her grandmother had given her and caressed the diamond flower as she whispered to the ring, “Take me away to the garden of my heart.”

The wind roared and the flowering trees shook their laden heads. Thunder snapped and crackled and then everything went dark. The banquet hall was in darkness and in that darkness, things changed. When the lights came on, the people were stunned. All the flowers had disappeared as if nothing had ever grown. The colours all looked drab and listless and so did the people. The prince stood as if carved by stone. An unease gripped him. Something was urging him to run towards his palace. He ran not knowing not caring but it was already late. His palace stood forlorn. The gardens which had been in a riotous bloom just a few hours back were a barren ground. The vines stretched like dead wire across the walls. The trees standing with dead branches seeking merciful rain and of Malati, there was nothing left. Just one withered kadamba bloom left to taunt and mock the prince. 

The prince sent messengers out into the world to find out about Malati but no one knew where she was. Then the Prince himself rode out to seek her and ask her to come back. He rode as far as the sea ended. There at the very end of the world, he saw a beautiful garden in bloom. There was parijat kumud, neel kamal, champa and kadamba. The prince knew that he had come to Malati’s home. He dismounted and asked the thorny babool trees which stood as guards to let him pass. The trees looked as if they wanted to shut themselves against him but then they parted their thorny branches and let him pass. The prince saw Malati standing in the middle of the flower meadow. She looked regal with flowers adorning her. The prince begged her to come back to the palace with him but Malati said, “Oh Prince, you took me for granted as did your people. I grow flowers, I tend them not because I need to sell them but because of who I am.  You forgot me when you let them make fun of me. My dignity was not worth fighting for but you are wrong. I am more than your wife. I am more than their queen and I am more than your people. I am me and I choose to be me. You can go back. I have no fight with you and your people but I will not go back to the palace that never belonged to me.” 

She gave him a pouch of seeds to carry home and sprinkle in the gardens. “I know that people miss the flowers so I will give some of my blooms to you. Take care of them and tend them but I will not go back with you.” Then she waved her hand and the grass mound on which the prince was standing flew up and deposited teh prince on the far coast. The prince realised that he had lost Malati forever. He hugged the precious gift to his chest and rode back to the palace. He sprinkled the seeds everywhere in his kingdom and took care of the plants. The plants grew and spread their fragrance everywhere and each flower reminded him of the girl that he had lost.