THE COURTESAN OF JAIGARH (Complete)

Part 33-At The Bazaar

 Neelanjana pushed away the uneaten bowl of porridge. The creamy deliciousness of the dish, sprinkled with raisins and saffron, could not tempt her to taste it.

"Please have a spoon or two of it, my lady. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday," the maid cajoled, worry for her mistress clear in the lines on her forehead.

Neelanjana shook her head, turning her face to gaze out of the window at a point on the horizon with unseeing eyes. He was somewhere out there, selling his gemstones or buying his spices. Had he given her a second thought? Was he not pining for her as she was for him?

Neelanjana took a deep breath and hastily wiped a tear lest the maid see it. She doubted that Hassan would have harbored any softer feelings for her. Had he felt even a little attracted toward her, would he have left so abruptly? He had left the previous morning in such a hurry as if he could not stand the sight of her. Did he hate her for being a courtesan? There was no way he could have missed the arrival of the prince. Had that fact put him off, or mayhap, scared him away?

She bemoaned her destiny which had led her to be a woman of the night, cursed to serve men in their beds, but unable to find one who would truly love her. For a moment, the riches that surrounded her, seemed meaningless, for they could only bring bodily comfort. What should she do about her heart, which longed to love someone with an intensity brought about by years spent unloved?

Neelanjana looked back at her life all through the years. It seemed as devoid of happiness as the desert is devoid of verdant meadows and lush forests. She felt incomplete as a woman. Even a lowly woman who tilled the fields pounded the grains, fetched water from the wells, or sold vegetables in the street, had a family to go back to, while she had this big, lonely mansion. What use was wealth when it could not buy her happiness?

Such thoughts troubled her mind like hammers beating on the anvil, causing her head to ache. She waved away the maid, and sank on her bed, hiding her face in the pillow and weeping her heart out. Hours passed, while she fell into a restless sleep, where dreams took her back to the day when her mother had sold her to the old man at the inn. Once again she felt the pain of separation, the guilt that she wasn't good enough, and the sense of loss at being abandoned, waking up weary from the turbulent storm of emotions.

By the next morning, she was beyond caring for anything, when a messenger brought a missive from the prince. She broke open the royal seal, and glanced at the message, then held it out to be read. A conspiracy had been unearthed at the palace, and the prince's new bride was incarcerated in the dungeon on the suspicion of aiding the rebels.

The news brought a faint smile to her lips. At least, her position in the prince's life seemed secure for the moment. She wasn't about to lose royal patronage due to this mismatched alliance forced on Harshvardhan. It was reason enough to celebrate, she mused. Hassan was lost to her, but she did not wish to lose the prince's interest in her. It was the only thing left in her life. She would even fight for it if she had to, she thought with a smile to herself. Let her rival see the stuff she was made of.

It was late afternoon, but the heat had not abated. The marketplace was crowded with pedestrians, camel carts, and horse riders. The vendors peddled their wares, their high voices vying with each other. The sultry air hung heavy with the scent of spices. The sweetness of cinnamon and the pungence of peppers tickled the nose. One could also smell the mouthwatering aroma of sweets being fried in hot oil. They were then sprinkled with rose water to attract hungry buyers.

Neelanjana made her way through the press of bodies, trailed by her maid. The colorful veils being dyed in huge vats caught her interest, and she stopped to admire the handiwork of the dyers. The vivid hues, the reds, the blues, the greens, reminded her of flowers in a garden. She touched a veil, feeling the softness against her skin, then put it on her head.

"How do I look?" she asked her maid.

"Beautiful as always, like an apsara," the maid said with a twinkle in her eye, happy to see her mistress back to her normal self.

"Huh...." Neelanjana arched an eyebrow, then the two women broke into a burst of laughter.

The purchase was completed with a lot of bargaining and bandying of words back and forth. The maid clutched the bundle, as they ambled through the narrow streets, till they espied a jewelry shop.

"Let us go inside and see what new designs he has," Neelanjana spoke more to herself than her companion. She could do with a new necklace to attract the prince's eye.

The shop was a reputed one, the jeweler old and thin with a gold tooth, and a fawning manner, eager to make a sale. She sank onto the cushions placed for prospective buyers.

"Do you have necklaces in beaten gold?" she asked. "I want the ones with filigree work."

"Of course, my lady," the goldsmith nodded, recognizing her and a little in awe of her presence.

He placed a few pieces on a silk cloth, displaying the brilliant craftsmanship to his advantage.

Neelanjana picked up one, placing it against her neck, and turned to the man for his opinion.

The goldsmith exclaimed in appreciation, telling her that it suited her beauty. She inspected the piece again, noting the delicate work and the gems encrusted in it, mulling whether to buy the expensive piece of jewelry.

At that moment, she saw a man enter the shop, seeing him from the corner of her eye but recognized him immediately. Her heart picked up speed, racing so fast as to make her gasp. What was he doing here?

Hassan noticed her at the same moment that she did. Oh god, he thought, what twist of fate had brought them together again? Why was temptation put in his path time and again? Did some power wish to test the strength of his will?

Sitting down, he cleared his throat and asked the goldsmith to show him some bangles, then turning to her, nodded politely.

"Greetings, my lady...." he murmured, stealing a heartfelt glance at her.

"Sir....what luck to meet you here again...." she mumbled, as self-conscious, as he.

Neelanjana felt a twinge of envy flash through her. Who was the lucky woman for whom he was buying the bangles? Was he betrothed or did he have a mistress? She wished that she could ask him outright.

"My sister has asked me to bring back a gift for her," he told her, setting her mind at rest.

"Oh...." she could only utter like a dimwit.

"She is still a child and a darling of her family," he said, smiling at the thought of his little sister.

"Then you shouldn't disappoint her," she urged.

"Will you help me choose one, please? I have hardly any experience of buying such baubles," he confessed with a smile.

The bangle was purchased after a lot of deliberations. Hassan tucked it away into his waistband, then stood up to leave. There was no occasion to linger any longer in her presence. He stole a glance at her face, loving the way that a tendril sat on her forehead, the vibrant blue of her eyes, and the petal-like lips. He was loath to leave, but leave he must.

"Will you accompany me to my place for a refreshing drink, sir?" she invited, and Hassan felt light-headed with joy. Should he accept her offer?