The Visitors

The Visitors

Patta strolled around the village after finishing with his daily training. Usually, he would assist the elderly with repairs or their work, but today he was free. Munching on an apple, he decided to use the time to continue his investigation on Ram Prasad. Ever since the two brothers had arrived, his sister had been behaving strangely. Earlier she would make him part of all her work, training, simple chores but now she did it all by herself. She would get defensive especially in front of Ram Prasad and take care of matters both big and small by herself. On the other hand, he could not understand the man’s concern towards his sister. Ram Prasad went out of his way to make sure everything for his Jija was always prepared and best. 

Patta had seen him ready garlands for the morning prayers and leave it in their usual spots where his Jija would find them. He made sure of her comfort when they went out for investigations and the one trip he had taken to dissuade her from going to Dhaman Singh’s cell, all these actions had made Patta suspicious. But it was not only his actions but Ajabde Jija’s words that worried him,

I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. I have been doing it for two years. You do not have to worry about me.

His pained expressions and hurt were enough for Patta to realise that Ram Prasad was not the man he claimed to be but was somebody else in disguise. The man was a skilled swordsman not as good as him, Patta thought smugly, then Ram Prasad could fight hand-to-hand combat, his brother followed him like a shadow, they did not drink or gamble, both were respectful towards everyone especially ladies and the elderly, their physiques were okay but the most important thing- they feared and cared for his sister. He stood up and rushed to their house, if he was on the right track then he had realised the identity of Ram Prasad and Lakshman Prasad.

In their house, Pratap and Shakta stood quietly as the both Rawat Chundawat, and Rao Ramrakh brought them up to date on all the goings back in Chittor and Bijolia. The men had arrived after a long gruelling journey, and their disguises were so good that even Kunwar Shakta had a hard time recognising them.

“Let Ranaji fight his own war,” Shakta spoke up angry at his father’s decision, “when he falls on that ground, spills his blood and sees neither one of us then his brain will start working.”

Rao Ramrakh and Pratap sighed as Rawat ji looked straight into Shakta’s eyes, “Kunwarsa it won’t just be Rana ji fighting the war. Our soldiers will be on the battlefield as well, do not forget that those soldiers are sons, fathers and brothers too. Do you wish them death, unbearable pain to their families just so Rana ji might change his mind?”

Rao Ramrakh walked up to him, “I know you are hurting and feel angry for your mother but seeking revenge by using one’s own people as pawns is not the right thing, Kunwar Shakta.”

Patta smiled on hearing more than two voices coming from the hut. He had thought of eavesdropping on the duo, but with two more people, it might be easier for him to find out their identity. Placing his ear against the window his heart stopped upon hearing the word, Rana ji.

“I knew it!!” he jumped in front of window scaring all four men inside. Shakta looked at his brother and then at Patta who walked in his with seriousness all over his face,

“I knew you were hiding something and now I have learned of your real identities.”

“Bhai Patta, what are you talking about?” Pratap spoke up, “our real identities…”

Patta nodded his head, “yes, real identities. Both of you are spies from Chittor aren’t you? Kunwar Pratap sent you both to follow my Jija.”

Shakta let out a breath seeing Patta had no clue of their real identity. The fellow had confused them being Kunwar Pratap’s spies. He looked at Patta who was fuming, “go back to Chittor and tell that Kunwarsa of yours to stay the hell away,”

“Patta” Rao Ramrakh’s deep baritone voice made Patta stop as he looked at the head of Bijolia. A strange look appeared on his face on realising that Rao Ramrakh was standing in front of him.

“Rao ji” he stuttered as he clasped his mouth shut and sat down on the floor utterly confused.

Ajabde sighed as she entered her house after the talk she had with the women. They wanted her to observe the upcoming Ekadashi fast for the wellbeing and safe return of her husband.

You have tried to hide it from everyone but my child, we are women. We know and understand these things. Your husband must be a soldier that is why you are staying here in a village away from your home.

Men fight on the battlefield; we women fight our battles in the four walls of our household. Our prayers are stronger than the enemy’s sword.

Observe the fast my child and see your husband will return to you.

She had observed all the fasts, from Teej to Gangaur, Shivratri to Navratri, all of them with full faith, honesty and sincerity for his sake. For the last two years, she had diligently prayed and fulfilled all her duties as his wife, but he had hurt her. Tears welled in her eyes, tears of anger as she realised that no matter how hard she tried she could never bring herself to hate him.

“Ajabde my child, you have finally come home.”

Ajabde’s eyes widened as she took in the person in front of her. Dressed like the ladies at the ashram, yellow saree with her hair tied in a bun, rudraksha bracelet and necklace adorning her figure, Maharani Jaiwanta Bai smiled gently at her daughter-in-law. She opened her arms and gestured for her to come and as the young woman ran to her, body trembling as the pain came outpouring from her eyes. Maharani Jaiwanta Bai ran her fingers gently over her daughter’s head,

“Cry my child, let that pain and bitterness out of you.”

Ajabde held the woman tight as she relieved everything over again, 

“I never wanted you to go,” she sobbed. “Kunwarsa did not give me a chance to explain,” her body trembled, “he hurt me, Ranimaa.”