Night Jasmine

Untitled Part 2

The balmy days saw the Shekhawat haveli filled with the patter of little feet as the school exams wound up and the holidays commenced. A twelve year old Randhir Singh Shekhawat and his younger sister Vidushi fussed over the bunch of house guests- his best buddy Parth and his Bengali cousins Sharad, Arohi and Vishakha-who often spent their holidays here while their parents took off for exotic vacations abroad. The Shekhawat kitchen turned out delicacies to die for- their hari mirch ka gosht, kesar murg were wrapped in soft kulchas and washed down with imli ka sherbet. Dessert varied from a malpua to a ghevar rabdi to badam kulfi- the menus carefully supervised by Renuka. To please her Bengali palate her faithful retainer Hari Kaka plied her today with fried carp fresh from the haveli's own pond.

After lunch wound up the children slipped away to play hide and seek. The magnificient haveli and its lush garden provided many a niche to conceal oneself and the game could go on forever before every member could be located. From his trusted hiding place Randhir had a clear view of the roof of the Agarwal home next-door, where he caught sight of the ten year old Sanyukta weeping bitterly but silently. Her long hair was loosely braided as it fell over her back, she held her face between her palms. Girls, he thought,as he rolled his eyes. But the protective vibe he felt for her made him crawl up the branch of the large mango tree that grew in his garden but hung over her roof. He soon found out that she was mourning the passing of her favorite puppy, who had been buried in her yard the same morning.

He was not sure how to pacify her- his own pampered sister threw tantrums often but she hardly ever cried, as their parents kept them well-supplied with things they fancied. He tried to comfort her by talking to her gently and then traced his palm over her cascading hair-she looked at him miserably, her eyes glistening with tears. Finally he dragged her by the wrist to the burial spot in her yard, picked up a sapling of night jasmine that his gardener obliged him with and planted it in the earth assuring her that the puppy would now enjoy both shade and the fragrance of the flowers as the tree grew to maturity. He made her promise that she would look after the plant always, if she did then the puppy would be truly happy even in death.

As he left her there she continued to stare at him long after he was gone, he had made her feel different- he cared unlike most other people around her. She did not see him often, as in the Shekhawat tradition the boys were sent away to boarding school. But during the holidays when they would play in the haveli garden with the other children she would eye them wistfully as she was too shy to join them, besides there was an unspoken undercurrent that defined the class differences between the families-the Shekhawats were a noble clan and represented old money while the Agarwals had humble roots with a trading background. Even as a child she was well aware of the fact that while he was nothing short of a prince she was a mere commoner.

Nevertheless she made a silent pact that she would do exactly what he had asked her to- nurture the night jasmine, look after it like it was a part of herself-and so she did, without knowing then that tree would grow to become an integral symbol of the bond they shared!