Kuljeet was teasing her and playing a game. She had deliberately given her the wrong departure time. Rajjo felt Kuljeet’s pernicious intent. Lighting up a cigarette, Raahat added, ‘Why are you in such a hurry to leave?’

‘I have things to do...,’ Rajjo muttered to him as he passed the cigarette to her.

‘I don’t have anything urgent to do, anytime of the day month or year…’ Raahat sighed.

‘Look for a desire and you will find your passion, your reason to be.’

‘I don’t desire anything.’ Raahat looked up at the dark sky beleaguered with life.

‘Then you are just a piece of useless meat, floating around, smoking up, littering the place with cigarette butts, farting gossip and adding to the weight of this earth.’

There was a pause. Rajjo passed him the cigarette after taking a long drag.

Raahat began to laugh. Rajjo laughed too.

They shared a last cigarette and it was time to say goodbye. She hoped Raahat would find his way as she walked away from him till the dark night swallowed her.

Once in her room, Rajjo feverishly finished packing and sat on the narrow cot. Her leg twitched restlessly. The disfigured picture of the Godman still hung on her wall. A tired air hung around the pink plastic-rimmed mirror on the wall. Not once did it spar with Rajjo’s quartz-coloured gaze to assure her of her lissome beauty. The steel jug with R written on it sat quietly. It was time to move on. Rajjo knew she was not going to sleep tonight. She was going to wait up for 4 a.m. As soon as the clock struck three, she went to the gate and beyond that into the fields. Not trusting her destiny or Kuljeet’s machinations.

Her sleepy tired body threatened to doze off, but she fought it. Kuljeet had no intention of taking Rajjo along. Rajjo stared into the deep dark sky, waiting for dawn to break.

In the bucolic setting sat Rajjo, worried once again that she could not smell the rain. Folks in the village would be looking at the skies everyday, waiting to sow for the next harvest. She hoped the long wait would end soon.

Dawn ushered in a bright crisp day. The sky was clear and cloudless, an endless blue drowning any hope of the monsoons. The sultry day began to take shape as the orange sun gradually climbed the sky. Prayers and chants offered at dawn pervaded through the walls.

The waiting bus was loaded with villagers. Some were local people looking for a ride to their desired destination if the bus was heading in the same direction. Some had decided to coordinate their travel with the group of sewadars for safety reasons.

Kuljeet, Arjan Singh and the others were travelling separately in a van. The luggage and other passengers were to follow in the rickety bus.