As they waited for her response, Rajjo wanted the wind to howl in agony. The pale brown moth arrested her yet again with a gentle flutter. It knew she felt thunderous inside. Harsh had whispered the honey-dripped promise of starting a life together. She hated him for giving her that option. She was trapped in her robes of a Godwoman, woven with her sweat and blood. Sewn with her desire. The robe was her skin, how does one peel their skin and still breathe.

It was clear that Rajjo was not going to respond to Sheru’s business proposition right away. The silence stretched on as Devi smiled. She was the only one who knew what Rajjo’s heart battled with. Devi towered over her protectively. Her face painted with heavy makeup, always prepared in case of a public performance. Apart from Rajjo, the other thing Devi loved was the camera on her face. She thrived on seeing a fleeting glimpse of her arm, her face, or her hands, on the TV. Her bright red lips and green-rimmed eyes popped out of the screen but even Rajjo could not talk her out of it.

As the silence in the room stretched into eternity, Sheru’s face fell. Rano opened the soundproof door and said, ‘It’s time to get back on stage.’ Devotees could be heard chanting Jai Jai Durge. Sheru was left standing, without a definite answer and not too happy as Rajjo and her coterie moved towards the stage. The devotees and volunteers bowed reverantly as Rajjo crossed them, wearing her black and red robes. Her beautifully painted face hid her agony. Rajjo wanted to scream and cry, but she continued to bless them with a smile. The moth fluttered somewhere around her shoulder. It carried the innocence of a lamb and the venom of a thousand snakebites. Just when she stepped from the darkness into the spotlight, it bit her and flew away.

She stood on the stage, bathed in light, thousands of devotees chanting her name. To her horror she did not feel the usual throbbing of her heart. The adulation did not make her come alive anymore.

She desperately hunted for the feeling that she belonged here, but all in vain. Rajjo wanted to burn the stage and rip the curtains. The rotating image of Lord Shani, the chants, the spiritual experience overwhelmed her. Her devotees chanting and cheering left her breathless. Thousands of them gathered in the arena, and seemed to threaten her like they would pounce on her any minute. They would swarm over her till she was unable to breathe. She could feel the panic in her heart. She wanted some space to breathe. She wanted her own piece of clear blue sky she could hold in her palm and hope.

For the very first time, Rajjo decided to leave the stage without addressing her devotees.