Something rose inside Rajjo, she wanted to run up and snatch the camera and see for herself how they saw them through their own lens.

Having taken a few shots, the travellers went on their way.

‘Mom says they wear new clothes everyday, shop, eat at restaurants, and have rooms each to themselves, with separate bathrooms,’ Rano muttered enviously. A tinge of wonderment glimmered in her eye. Her cheeks had turned a delicate shade of pink.

‘We too shall have all that and more,’ Rajjo stated quietly with an impenetrable resolve.

‘Huh! Your prince charming will descend here in his big swanky car and take you away from all this? As if! Dream on!’ mocked Reet.

Rajjo ignored the barb and got busy looking at the blades of ripe wheat glistening in the last ray of sunlight. ‘It’s going to rain tomorrow, they won’t be able to finish storing the wheat if they don’t work through the night!’

A woman working in the field close to the sisters stopped her work and glared at Rajjo.

Reet sprinted to the house and came back with their angry mother in tow, who immediately whacked Rajjo across the face twice.

‘How many times have I told you not to speak ill! You have a kaali zubaan, what you say happens! Don’t talk rubbish!’

‘It’s not rubbish, it’s going to rain tomorrow!’ Rajjo looked at her mother with defiant eyes. She was sure in her knowledge, and baffled that her mother would not make good use of it.

Saroj dragged the little girl by the ear towards the house.

Tears streamed down little Rajjo’s eyes from the pain of having her ear pulled by her mother. But Rajjo was damned if she was going to whimper or apologize. She had done nothing wrong.

‘If you are sure you are not in the wrong and stating the truth, you should not be afraid to say it!’ Rajjo muttered.

‘The teacher told her this in the school!’ Rano quickly muttered trying to shield her sister from more thrashing.

‘No, I read it myself!’ Rajjo countered haughtily.

Rano rolled her eyes.

‘They will burn you like a witch! How many times have I told you to keep your mouth shut in public! You should have gone with your senile grandmother!’

Saroj, hassled, screamed at the girl as they reached her compound.

‘And stop reading those godforsaken books the whole day and getting stupid ideas. I am going to burn them!’ Saroj screamed.

‘Truth is like a vast tree which yields more and more fruit – the more you nurture it.’ Saroj paused seeing the defiance in the girl. ‘Mahatma Gandhi said this, burn him too!’ said the cantankerous Rajjo.

Saroj impulsively slapped her daughter again. Rajjo had a quick tongue that angered her, and it did not help that the little scoundrel had an elephant’s memory. Everything she saw, read, glanced was stored away in her camera eye. Nothing escaped her keen gaze.

Rajjo’s face was streaked with red angry marks.