As nights chased away the days, Rajjo found herself on the sewadar duty roster to serve langar in the main hall. She used a long spoon to serve the food to the people who had queued up in front of the tables. The others repeated the name of God as they served. Arjan Singh came and whispered, ‘Without embracing Him you won’t find any peace.’

‘I am not looking for peace.’ She continued to serve the food. Arjan smiled to himself as he observed the beautiful determined woman, standing behind the table, with a wooden ladle, pouring curry into the patrons’ plates. Her lips were tightly pursed. Given the choice, she would probably have shut her ears as well. Arjan smiled, she was definitely the child of God and blessed at that.

It was her fourth week in the kitchen and Rajjo had befriended almost everyone in the kitchen routine with her shy smile. But only up to exchanging a greeting, or a nod as they passed each other. She usually sat aloof, but today she sat next to a new batch of young girls brought in by Mai, her guests visiting her from out of town. Rajjo and the others learned from Mai that the girls were over from the city to celebrate the festival of Lohri in the village and learnt about the ashram. And now they have returned to visit the ashram.

Lohri the harvest festival, marked both celebration and sharing. Wheat sown in winter was ready to yield fruit, and the ripe golden crops were ready to harvest. The bonfires in the night warmed her heart. Sisters danced around it to the beats of the dhols. Little balls of fire lit up their happy faces. They lay awake in the night, counting the stars, waiting for daybreak so the sisters could go from house to house singing folk songs, and neighbours would give them money and food as festival offerings. The songs she sang with her sisters wept in her belly, she dare not bring them out now.

She wondered if these city girls had ever waited for daybreak to go around the neighbourhood singing songs and dancing? The cacophony of young voices broke her reverie.

The girls gossiped as they worked in the kitchen, reminding Rajjo that young girls with curious minds could sometimes be a curse. The giggling got louder as they huddled in the little corner ostensibly peeling the cucumbers.

As the peeling continued, Rajjo heard the girls discussing Rani Maa’s brochure announcing her next darshan programme in hushed tones. Rani Maa stared back like a queen from the glossy brochure, clad in a silk saree, an orange mark adorning her forehead. The girls flipped the pages to see other pictures on the brochure that announced various month-long activities that the patrons and followers could participate in.