And now, a week had gone by and Rajjo itched to go to the marketplace and try the number again. The strains of a soft English song washed over her as the piece of tin cried and cooed. Overcast skies and the musical notes reverberated in the orchards. Rani Maa’s silky voice interjected her thoughts. ‘You know what my gift is? I can sniff out a person. An intention, and yours I am afraid, is suspect. I get something muddled from you. Why are you here, Rajjo?’

Rajjo stared at her. Numb at being caught unawares, the song crooning behind, filling up Rajjo’s shocked silence.

‘You are ambitious, ambition is good, but people around you don’t like ambition.’ Rani Maa continued as she reached out for her cold cup of tea and sipped. Rajjo could not fathom how anyone could relish a cold cup of tea, but that was Rani Maa! Her brain had not come up with a suitable response as Rani Maa looked at her with a pointed question, her burgundy sari pinned to perfection, hair coiffed up, face painted. Rajjo felt like an old country cousin kneeling on the ground, facing her inquisition.

‘What are you thinking?’ Her silken voice washed over Rajjo’s senses again.

‘That I want to see that new movie if you will call for that videotape: Saajan.’

Rani Maa did not laugh. She observed Rajjo’s imperfect yet beautiful face for a full two minutes, and then looked away. Minutes ticked into hours as they sat side by side, looking at the flies. The singers from worlds Rajjo did not know or heard about, poured their hearts out in a fruit orchard where she sat with a Godwoman and an uncomfortable silence.

A particularly heartwrenching song later, there was a welcome pause as the player worked towards playing the next one.

Despite herself, Rajjo blurted, ‘Do you believe in God? I mean, really?’

Surprisingly her face broke into a smile.

‘He feeds me, literally’. Rani Maa smiled.

‘I don’t.’ I don’t believe in him and that’s what keeps me going!’

There, Rajjo had said one of the most intimate things about her to a woman she did not particularly like or trust, a woman she wanted to dethrone and betray.

‘You are named after a Goddess…’ Rani Maa goaded her. Poking to see how deep the waters ran and if the wounds were still fresh.

‘Ironic, isn’t it? But I am named after a senile old woman’s stubborn wish. If that’s God, then so be it!’ Rani Maa chuckled as if an errant child was sullen and misbehaving.

And then she chuckled yet again as she looked at the beautiful petulant girl sitting by her side. Rani Maa knew their fates were intertwined.

‘Would you call yourself a good person?’ Rani Maa had finished the cold tea and the cassette ran itself out.

Rajjo shook her head honestly and muttered, ‘No.’

Rani Maa gave her a pointed look and asked again.

‘Courageous?’