As she crossed the fields with Rano to visit the temple yet again, she saw her father sitting with a few men, sharing a hukka, deep in conversation.

She knew the conversations these days were morose and hopeless, limited to the violent terror outfits, the government’s ineffectiveness. Rajjo, however, felt removed from all the turmoil in the world. The men discussed it passionately, but at the end of their discussion they would worry about feeding their families or a sick cow. Why would they agonize over the current situation so long and hard? Predict and take sides. Analyse and comment? Perhaps they felt more involved if they were discussing it. Felt less helpless? But why would they need to be involved in the first place. Rajjo knew she was mulling over random things endlessly to avoid thinking about Kashi.

The monsoon gales brought in romance and longing. She was pining for the call from Kashi. Usually Rajjo was able to distract herself by drowning in the second-hand books her teacher would provide her with. It was a vast collection she read, depending on the charity of the donor. However, she had not picked up a book in the last month now. And then she heard her sister Rano speak.

‘Do you think he will call? It’s been two weeks?’ Rano muttered, half happily and half with worry. She did not want Rajjo to go away after all! She secretly hoped that Kashi would not turn up but knowing how badly Rajjo wanted to be with him, Rano squashed her thoughts.

‘Father should not be sitting with him!’ Rajjo changed the topic pointing towards her father who sat amidst friends, chatting and smoking in the middle of the fields.

‘They are discussing the news… it’s harmless.’ Rano defended them.

‘No, Mother was saying he is offering father a business deal… he is going to betray our father!’ Rajjo muttered.

‘Oh come on! That’s Karam’s father!’ Rano added defensively.

‘Yes, but it is not a good feeling…’

‘Now don’t go about opening your mouth in front of father…’ warned Rano.

Rano trailed behind as Rajjo sauntered towards the men who sat in a circle surrounded by stacks of wheat, hukkas, and with their tiffin boxes strewn around.

Having spotted his girls in the fields, their father tightened his turban and took his leave from the little assemblage. Rajjo was surprised to notice he had aged overnight. His body not as agile, his shoulders not as broad. A lump rose in her throat as she remembered the tall towering man of her childhood. There was something painful in seeing things wither.

He met Rano and Rajjo with a not-so-happy glint and gestured them to return to the house.

Rajjo casually added, ‘Dealing with Karam’s father may not be so fruitful, I am not getting a good feeling about it!’

Their father laughed with an empty sarcasm. ‘My Shani is sitting in the wrong house, even if I deal with a saint it won’t fall correctly. Let’s just hope the bad period will pass soon…’