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.

‘The ashram regularly organizes relief for people from cyclone and quake-affected areas, disease, vaccination and education camps, apart from dedicating itself to the service of God and taking his message to his people.’

Rajjo smirked again. As if in response to the smirk, Kuljeet added…

‘…and beaten up, spent people like you also seek shelter here, which we give freely…’

There it was said out aloud in the room. The woman continued in the same unaffected tone.

‘I am Kuljeet. In case you need anything ask for me. You can stay here till you recover, and then we shall see how you want to continue. When you feel better you can help around with the chores if you feel like. The medication, if you choose to take it, is on the table.’

As she limped out of the room Rajjo spat out.

‘I don’t want to be here.’

Kuljeet turned around, her face clear of any emotion; surprise or disappointment. Unruffled.

‘Then don’t. That’s the gate. You are free to walk away. Just fold the bed-sheet and the quilt before you leave.’

Kuljeet turned to leave, their eyes locked for a brief moment and then she added for good measure, ‘As is pre-ordained people speak their words. As it is pre-ordained they consume their food. As it is pre-ordained, they walk along the way. As it is pre-ordained, they see or hear. As it is pre-ordained, they draw their breath. It’s all the will of God.’

Rajjo stood defiant, holding her limbs. Not waiting for a response Kuljeet added in the same breath. ‘Also a pair of fresh clothes, a sweater and a bar of soap is provided for you, it’s on that chair – you can take it with you if you want.’

Saying this the woman limped out of the small dark room.

Rajjo sat on the cot. Numb. And then she started putting the quilt away. Rajjo was not going to stay a minute. She was going to go far far away. She had not figured where, but somewhere. As she reached out for the clothes, she saw a booklet sitting on top of the pile. The charismatic face of a woman stared back. Rajjo wanted to know more. She read the label on the booklet. Shradha Swami Foundation – An Insight.