They walked along the trails lazily. His cap on his head. A regular nondescript tourist couple, the guards had done a recce of the area many times over to allow them this freedom. They waited for the old kite seller as they handed him the spindle they’d bought. The manja maker on the roadside got busy preparing it. He ran his padded fingers expertly and they stood and watched. That was the moment Rajjo knew she wanted more. She had the world, fame and riches, she had given up God, and the only thing she wanted was love. She could hear the shrieking of the train on the railway tracks in the village back home. She was a little girl telling her sisters she wanted to grow up and elope. A few young boys sat by the handle and spun it slowly to ensure that the sun wrapped around the thread evenly. Rajjo watched the thread baking in the sun while Harsh went into the small temple across the road, disappointed that Rajjo had not accompanied him. He was forever trying for her to make peace with her Lord, ‘You will thank me for introducing him back into your life,’ Harsh winked at her. She rolled her eyes as a loving blush sat on her cheek. ‘I do that for a living – I don’t believe in any of this. I sell him for a living. If I find faith in him, I will starve!’ Harsh smiled at his stubborn fool. ‘There is no point reasoning with a rock. Faith finds you when you are ready to receive it.’

‘I DON’T need it. Haven’t you heard I sell deliverance to his devotees?’ Her arrogance was evident in every word, as she shot back with a smile. Harsh bowed his head mockingly as Rajjo laughed. She threw her head back and arched her neck. Her laughter rang in his ear and he never wanted it to stop. Still drinking in her laughter, he disappeared inside the hustling bustling temple.

Rajjo decided to spin the wheel with the young boy. He reminded her of Kesar. The late afternoon sun was warm, seeping in, thawing her back and drying the manja as they headed to an adjoining outlet to select colourful kites. Walking along the streets it looked like gaudy dollops placed outside to entice the passersby.

Harsh crossed the road, smiling at her, turning the spindle. She was complete and happy. The sun, the wheel and Harsh where all that she needed to feel fulfilled, yet there was a giant gorge inside that refused to fill up. Purple-hued bile came rushing back inside and ate up the sun in seconds. The well-being she felt a minute ago was gone as it dawned on her that tonight was the last night with Harsh before a long separation.