Any being—living or non-living, derive
distinction from others due to the uniqueness they carry, the particularity
that mark them, the features that paint them differently against the
background. The existence of shiny completes with the presence of dull, the
light with the dark, the good with the bad and so goes the nature.
©dixitsharma
This bungalow, only one of its kinds
in Robertpur, rose as the sign of aristocracy in this land of mediocrity. The
hill people called it Raja ki Haveli, not
wrong if seen in its historical and material expansions. Once the palace of the
local ruler, Raja Dharamroop Singh, it got partially ruined when the English
captured it, along with the rest of India. Restored to the descendants;
post-independence, the house was blemished due to some tales of the current
titular ruler, Raja Premroop Singh’s
experiment with wine and women. Since these attributes are often considered
kingly in a hierarchical society, they were ignored or at maximum frowned upon
by a few and he still commanded respect among the men of hill.
Raja Premroop Singh, the last to
hold the royal title of Raja, had a
single heir to the throne, Rajkunvar
Inderjeet Singh, or Andy—a name he loves, due to its westernized accent and
his neo-liberal views. Andy was a foreign educated lad, who had an aversion to
the tastes which have enticed his father, neither was he a religious man, as
some may think, like his mother, Rani
Sahiba. A fully grown man with royal looks and a common man’s heart, he was
ardent supporter of equality for all, which never went well with the other
members of the royal family. His vision for equality was well known in this
small town of Robertpur, a mini country as some may feel, being located in the
not easily accessible hilly area, and secluded from the socio- economic growth
of the plains. He could usually be seen sitting among the common men,
interacting about their routine problems, giving intelligent solutions. Andy
was easily approachable as one could spot him strolling through the evening fog
on the calm roads of Robertpur, unlike many of his predecessors who though being
caring for masses, maintained a distance from them.
Chotae raja sahib, as was Andy known among the domestic help,
which were many, was to get married soon. Raja
Premroop Singh had received many proposals for his son, few from the fellow
kings and others from businessmen of notable levels. But each time this topic
of marriage came, and especially in the elite society, it irritated Andy. He carried
aversion for the etiquette and glamour surrounding a girl from the higher
society, the way they behave royal, unaware of being oppressed by the royal
manners that had subsumed the real person, high society girl’s inertness
towards the real world. He was admirer of the raw beauty of the hill girls,
walking miles to bring water and fuel—turning their cheeks cheery red, the
shine these girls carried in their eyes mesmerizing anyone who passes bye, the
amorous curvatures these earthly angels had. In fact, he found all these
qualities in Snehlata, daughter of Shyam babu, local post-master and
neighbor of Mr. Kashyap (whom you know well from the previous tale). She had
always attracted Rajkunvar Inderjeet
Singh, even before he went for studies to foreign university. When he
returned, he came with a stronger resolution to marry her, just that he had no
power to confess his love to her. One day, repeated failures to confess these
feelings and continuous pressing from Raja
Sahib for marriage with the daughter of a business tycoon, resulted in an
emotional outburst in front of the parents.
The royal parents were dumb struck….
there was silence in Rajaji’s room, but after few minutes thought and knowing
Andy’s aversion towards elite girls, Rajaji said “Are you sure Andy ?? Is your
decision final”, “it will bring bad name to the house.”
Andy jumped up from his seat and
answered “did your acts bring less?? Moreover, I do not wish to settle here.
I’ll be leaving abroad, as the society is based upon laws of equality and sovereignty.
All men are considered alike there, they are better educated, less egoist and
more humble human being.”
“Don’t tell me,” chuckled Raja Sahib.
“You are free to do as you wish, but
as a father, I would suggest you to marry on reasons other than mere aversion to
the royal class. Your supposition that all rich are arrogant and all others are
humble is based on false pretext.”
“You don’t tell me……” giggled Andy.
Following this, the usual affairs of
an Indian marriage went. It was the talk of the town, and everyone had a
perspective to present, every mouth had some favorites and criticized others.
This went on for two months, the whole hill was filled with gossips and anyone
coming from the Haveli brought with
them a bundle of new stories.
The day of leaving came. Everyone was
ready. All suitcases were lined up. Andy
and Snehlata were standing near the
gates with all relatives there to wish them well, some with true emotions and
most with a sense of formality. Suddenly, some house help came from behind,
“Snehlata beti, you forgot your other briefcase”, followed by a quick, angry
reply, “what’s the problem in calling me Choti
Rani, am I not Rajkunvar’s wife
!!”
A silence settled, with everyone
gazing here and there except Rajaji and Andy, who looked into each other, a
moment that lasted for a lifetime. Suddenly, the ceremonies for the farewell
started, with the couple eventually leaving, and all chitter-chatter around the
marriage fading, the whole incident left as an anecdote in the vast history of
the hill town of Robertpur. ©dixitsharma
