Rajjo had to think fast if she was to stay on. She shrugged her worries away as she climbed the makeshift platform where Raahat stood under a blue tent, handing out drinks to the people. Rajjo glanced across the road and was glad to see the little boy had queued up as well, braving the harsh afternoon sun. His empty eyes stared ahead as he waited for his turn to get the sweetened drink and bread.

Raahat’s curly hair flopped across his acne-scarred face. While he served, he eyed young girls his age and offered them an extra glass of the sweet drink. Rajjo shook her head at his feeble attempts at flirtation.

‘You are looking like a hooligan, chop your tresses off. You can offer them a bucketful of sweet and they won’t smile back. You are a cross between a man and a monkey right now!’ murmured Rajjo.

Raahat threw her an impish look. ‘I am in the service of God, can you find some other time for this sermon... If God wills, I shall cut my hair! He shall whisper in my ear tonight, Raahat, go have a hair cut and on your way back, dig under the papaya tree to find a pot of gold!’

Rajjo chuckled as she handed out a few glasses to an old couple,

‘Actually, I was thinking I will spruce up nice and proper to say bye to you when Kuljeet sends you packing…She has called Sarika Tai for your induction.’ Raahat’s attempt at a joke masked his worry.

Rajjo deliberately ignored Raahat as she continued to serve the thirsty, hungry people in shabby clothes and with blisters on their hands. The ones who had been served already were gulping the pink liquid like it was God’s nectar. They could be from her village back home.

Just then she heard the rickety scooter sputter back to life. The little boy who still awaited his turn to get the pink drink turned around. The urgent tooting of the horn and the impatient man on the scooter was signal enough for him to run.

‘He did not have his food, neither his drink.’

Rajjo almost ran after him, but the little boy’s legs carried him too fast. The need to obey was instant. He had already hopped on to the scooter.

Rajjo’s heart sank, as the scooter pulled away. The little boy was seated with his back to the driver and faced Rajjo, and then gingerly lifted his hand and waved at her. Rajjo waved back and he was gone, an innocent who stayed in her heart reminding her of sweet orisons curled up in rosy air.

She wondered if they would ever meet again, for he had captured a bit of her in the little circles of mud. Choked, she took deep breaths to let the emotion pass. The little boy had come to the people serving God, and none of them could assuage his thirst or hunger.