Chapter Seven

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For five months, Ajiona was confined to the apartments she had been given only going out with an entourage in tow. She didn't know if she was allowed to leave the apartments alone at all and almost didn't care to find out. She felt she wasn't ready to face the world she had been thrust into, not without help and guidance.

The first week of her five month isolation, she had been in the grip of fever, slipping in and out of consciousness while the rajavaidya treated her infected wounds, washing out the gaping wound in her stomach and the dozen other smaller cuts with wine, sewing them shut before binding them. Despite that, her fever held and she spent her semi conscious time hallucinating about Juliana and Diane. She was keep cool and spoon fed broths and tonic, it wasn't until the eighth day that her fever broke and she regained consciousness.

A few hours conscious, she longed for the feverish oblivion she had been in. It was as if she had been thrust into a madhouse. The chambermaids chattered and twittered in a completely foreign language and that they expected her to understand what they were saying brought on headache. The rajavaidya came daily to check up on her progress and when he spoke she stared at him with incomprehension until he began signing his intentions and questions to her to which she either nodded or shook her head.

Days after her fever broke; she spent more of her time on the chamber pot battling diaohrrea. Within days she became considerably lean and had an unhealthy haggard look in her face. During the day she groaned atop the chamber pot, at night she lay on her belly with the chamber maids lying around the wooden bed on pallets, unable to sleep and trying to stave off tears as she desperately missed her mother, friend and uncle. She recovered slowly from this, battling her personal anguish and loneliness. The rajavaidya tended to her physical wounds, with the language barrier the feeling of loneliness grew until it was a dark hole in her mind swallowing all thought of happiness. Thinking about her family made the feeling more definite, more sharp edge, poised to wound.

Ajiona lost appetite and her weight and when the rajavaidya left her each day, she spent the rest of the time moping and staring fixedly at the wall opposite the bed, strangely sapped of all the energy that drove her. She was too weak for her exercises and didn't even want to bother about it. There was no drive.

It was at the time when she felt she had hit rock bottom that an austere looking woman visited her. She stood at the foot of the bed and stared down at her. For the first time in weeks, Ajiona felt interest stirring. She pointed at the bed and said a word: 'mam cam.'

Ajiona scrambled up off the bed, and came to stand before her. Still staring at Ajiona the woman continued pointing and giving a name to objects. 'Abhimāni,' her index finger was pointing at the fan, 'stūl,' her finger moved to the small stool then up to circle the girls standing respectfully away: 'Hāstal. Naku,' she pointed at herself then at Ajiona. 'Miru,' the books she was holding 'pustakam.'

For two hours, they went around the chamber, the woman pointing out objects and naming them and Ajiona listening attentively. After the two hours, she left without saying anything, the doors closing behind her. At bit shocked at her sudden departure, Ajiona went around her room thrice giving a name to everything, mentally listing them with their appropriate images. At the end, she felt exhausted and promptly fell asleep.

Every day, the woman came and for two hours they gave names to tangible objects. It was a slow process of learning but Ajiona was glad of the change. She attacked it with such enthusiasm, her former energy returning to her with each hour she spent with the woman and it remained with her even when she was gone. In the middle of one lesson, Ajiona described her backpack with a series of signs that almost confused her. The woman looked uncomprehending at first but when Ajiona mimed again, slowly this time she caught on, called one of the chambermaids to herself and spoke rapidly to her. She left and came back a few minutes later with it. Ajiona had never been gladder to see her backpack. Now battered looking, it was one of the piece of home. In it were her devices and luckily and sketch pad.

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