The Girl Who Dreams

Prologue

It was the warmest time of the year around the small town in the interiors of Maharashtra. Shashi winced at the sun scathing its rage against her. She was making her way through the market after her school was over. Her mother had asked her to pick up the vegetables while coming back. Her dupatta was, again and again, falling from her head. Her white Salwar Kameez had been smudged with dirt from the streets. Her long hair was braided and neat, with her brown eyes searching as she walked through a small lane of the marketplace.

An old wrinkled lady was sitting by the side of the entry of the farmer's market. Shashi bend down to touch the fresh and green spinach when suddenly she felt a human touch on her back. She scrambled forward, almost tumbling down on her two legs.

A middle-aged man with a moustache walked by her wearing a dark smirk on his face. She had to deal with him every other day. She always cringed in horror of his misappropriate teasing; she felt demeaned every time. For sixteen years of age, she had developed a lot physically early. Like every other day, she ignored, picked up two-three vegetables paid the old farmer lady and started to walk off.

"Miss.." someone cleared their throat beside her. "Miss, was that man teasing you?" A boy around her age wearing a dirty check shirt with lazy and overgrown hair asked her. He appeared uncertain and nervous in his stance. She looked at his familiar face for a fraction of seconds and moved forward ignoring him. The boy was from her school, same class.

"Shashi," she heard him calling, and she broke into a run.

Panting she reached her front yard of her decently big house. She creaked open the gate and moved towards her room when she heard her father talking to her mother. She stopped in her tracks and strained her ears.

"Sudha, I can't deal with your emotional drama anymore. When I say we are going, its final," Besides her father raised voice she intently heard rhythmic sobs from her mom.

"But we have everything here, our relatives, and our land. How can we leave this town and never come back?" Her mother voiced her concern with trembled tone. "How will we adjust there? In a foreign place! With nobody around."

She was baffled by the conversation. Hundreds of questions arose in her young brain. She knew for certain that her mother rarely spoke in front of her father, maybe against him. She was stepping forward until she was within the earshot.

"Will you stop with the crying? I have made my decision, we are leaving for London. My Sahib had put in a word for me; we will be rich. What else do you want! You get a bigger house, servants at your beck and call. And we will get a house of our own there, probably a small land."

"But.." her mother pleaded to sob incessantly.

"No more. I will send my office boys to help you to do the packing. We are moving to London, and that is what going to happen." Her father moved past her, precipitously stopped when he saw Shashi with her eyes brimming with tears. "Good. You heard that. Now go, help your mother. We don't have much time. Is that clear?"

She nodded grimly and obeyed her father's order.

***

There was so much that was going to leave behind. She sighed looking through a small window of her bedroom, which was her haven. She used to draw, sing and dance in the closed four walls. Here she was the queen; she would do whatever she wanted to do. Once she dressed as an actress in the latest film, she saw. She was indeed a beauty to behold, her large soft brown eyes, long wavy hair, and fair skin were complimented her well. But then she was not allowed to flaunt her beauty. It only drew a lot of unwanted attention. Boys used to chase after her. That was in a literal sense.

Now she was leaving everything behind her. The place, the people and mainly her safe haven. At the time of leaving, she touched the silent walls, her small bed, her cupboard for the last time.

"Shashi, the car is here!" her mother called out.

One last look at her room, she left the old Shashi behind.