Her lips felt parched and her throat burned. With an effort Rajjo reached for the jug of fresh cold water and gulped it down thirstily. As she put the jug down, she noticed the picture of the man who was the founder of this spiritual organization. A Godman. He wore a white robe, an orange turban and an affected smile. His hands were raised in a gesture of blessing. Rajjo smirked at the pose.

An unexplained anger formed in the pit of her stomach towards the man of God in the photo hanging on the wall. Rajjo looked around the place and hunted through the drawers awkwardly, finally chancing upon a lead pencil. She limped up to the calendar only to draw a moustache, dragon teeth, bushy eyebrows and disfigured nose with a vengeance. Every stroke of the pencil made her feel better till the lead was spent.

A soft chuckle made her look around.

It was a woman wearing a white salwar–kameez. Her hair was tied up in a black turban-style cloth. Her freshly washed face beamed at Rajjo. She wore a military green sweater buttoned all the way up and her feet were clad in wornout sneakers. Rajjo sized her up as someone in her late thirties. As the woman moved forward one could see a slight limp in her gait.

‘Your medicines are here…’ the woman said in a matter-of-fact way.

Rajjo did not respond. Her voice had authority and so did her posture.

The woman scraped a chair and sat down with a sigh.

‘What happened with you?’

Rajjo stared at her visitor, defiant. It was clear no answers were forthcoming form her side. The woman after a long pause continued.

‘So I am guessing you know where you are? This is a hermitage, an ashram – we call it the Ashram from the Shradha Swami Foundation. We have more than fifty million followers who believe in walking the path of God with us. His Holiness Amrik Singh-ji Maharaj was the founder and now the ashram has been taken over by his third descendent, Her Holiness, Ranjot Kaur Mattewal, also known as Rani Maa to most. Her grace and presence wash away the sins of her devotees. I am Kuljeet and I am here to welcome you on behalf of the ashram.’

Rajjo stared on with a blank expression. The woman could sense her disinterest and slight animosity. She continued in a sharper tone. ‘This place was a barren land infested with snakes. With his belief, Maharaj-ji made it into a haven. The orchards and the gardens you will see around this ashram were created by him for his followers to stay in peace and follow the path of God. A devout truck driver brought you in half dead. It is for a reason. This path of God has chosen you.’

As soon as Kuljeet had finished talking, Rajjo managed a sarcastic grunt. Her swollen face barely moved with the effort. A small mirror with a dirty pink plastic frame hung on the wall opposite to her. A disheveled face and hair stared back at her. She turned away from the image in disgust. Kuljeet observed Rajjo’s behaviour and continued as if there was nothing amiss.