Page 114
— SAMARTH —
“He was so big!” Brahmi’s eyes blew up to big Os, her hand held tight in his. Samarth squeezed it, descending the steps of Badrinath.
“Now imagine how big Laxmiji must have become to protect him,” he lifted her up in his arms for Ava to fix her shoes into her feet.
“Like that,” Ava pointed to the ber tree in the distance. “Big and broad.”
“Is she still a tree?” Brahmi asked, twining her arms around his neck.
“She is a tree if you see her as a tree. You think she is still a tree for him?”
His daughter nodded, always sold on dreamy stories. Samarth smiled — “Then she is. That is why they still call this place by her name.”
He took Ava’s hand to let her slide into her shoes and then put his own on. They turned to the temple one final time before getting into their car.
“Fold your hands and say ‘I’ll come back again,’” he taught his daughter what his Papa had taught him when leaving a temple or a deity.
She folded her hands and murmured it like she was chanting some super-secretive shlok.
He kissed her temple, amused. His half-French daughter was double-Indian lately.
“Now picnic!” She threw her hands up in the air.
————————————————————
“Papa sat there,” Ava pointed to the bench on the farthest row overlooking the stables.
“And I sat here,” she showed her the seat she had occupied before she was punished to sit with him in 7-B.
Brahmi skipped down the empty classroom like a butterfly, uninterested in their trip down memory lane.
She was muttering things to herself, picking up markers and dusters and reading the charts stuck on their boards aloud.
Samarth came up behind Ava.
“My daughter also talks to walls thanks to you.”
“At least she is not stuck to the window like a silent statue all day.”
As if on cue, Brahmi found herself on her knees on one of the benches, peeping out at the stables.
This was the only classroom on this floor with that premium view.
He could hear the faint hooves in the distance.
At this time of the afternoon, the horses would be coming back after exercise in the paddocks.
“Look! Ponies!” She squealed so loud he startled. “Ooooh, there is a red pony. Woooow! Papa, look at him… you are so cute, baby. Oooh…”
“She also talks to flowers and bees and ponies,” Ava turned to him. “See if you can stop her.”
“I want to go down! Papa! I want to go down!”
He shook his head, holding back his smirk.
“Come.”
————————————————————
“Come on, Ava,” He held his hand down for her.
“No!”
“Your daughter is riding her own horse, you can ride doubles with me at least.”
She stood back, hands on her hips — “How many years have you known me now?”
“More than I can count,” he grinned.
“And have I ever ridden with you? Even when you were the polo hunk of Saraswati Crest?”
“We have to rectify those wrongs,” he stood on the stirrups and reached forward to grab her hand. She jumped back — “Don’t do that!!”
“Mama, come on!” Brahmi hollered from her tiny pony beside his beast. The red one.
Samarth glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
She was holding her thighs expertly, her hands soothing the controlling stance by stroking her pony’s mane.
The way he whined under her touch, Samarth knew he was happy.
“You guys go take a round and come back, I’ll wait here.” Ava stood back. Then lower, she muttered to him — “Don’t you remember what happened last time?”
“It happened and it passed,” he nodded solemnly. “How many times have you seen me take falls in a game?”
“It’s a miracle you still have your head.”
He knocked on his helmet — “Somebody makes sure to buckle it tight for me.”
“Samaaarth…” she whined. He manoeuvred his horse to her, grabbed her wrist and tugged. She protested.
“Alright, just sit up with me. Nothing more. Ok?”
“You always start with this.”
“Nothing more until you say so. Alright? Come here, set your right foot on top of mine in this stirrup. Nothing will happen.”
Ava caressed the horse’s neck — “It’s going to be heavy but I’ll get down in a minute, ok?”
His horse neighed.
“He says — ok. Now come.” Samarth took her hand in his, making his palm her handle as she stepped on the stirrup and awkwardly swung her other leg to straddle the horse in front of him.
He accepted the helmet that the groom passed and set it atop Ava’s head, reaching around her shoulder to fasten the buckle.
Her body was tight, the weight heavier because of her nervousness.
He splayed a hand over her stomach and pulled her flush back to him.
She gasped, coming in contact with his groin.
“You can’t be serious!” Her eyes widened. “Right now?”
“It’s been a dream to do this for decades,” he chuckled, inconspicuously kissing the crook of her neck. “Ready?”
“No.”
“Just a ride to the edge of the paddock and back,” he nudged his chin out to the rolling hills stretching in front of them. She mock-cried. Which was a ‘Yes — but I’ll kill you if you kill me.’
“Let’s go, Papa!” Brahmi called. “On your mark, get set, go!”
Brahmi shot off, but not at a speed he would find alarming. And he was right behind her, Ava’s hair flying in the wind and whipping his face.
“Like it?” He asked, manoeuvring their horse until he was shadowing Brahmi’s.
Anything went wrong and he was right there.
But his daughter was a natural, as he had observed from that first day.
She did not need him, or anyone else as she became one with her pony, her body automatically bowing low to cut through the wind.
“Now show me your neck shot,” he hollered.
Without breaking speed or concentration her right hand swung over the pony’s neck and her wrist flicked on the left side.
“Good job!”
“Hold the reins, Brahmi!” Ava ordered and their daughter obeyed. As the setting sun came closer to their horses, Ava’s body relaxed in his.
“So?” He asked.
“So?”
“Do you like it?”
“Fiiine,” she must have rolled her eyes. “It’s kinda good.”
“Can I give you riding lessons in Nawanagar?”
“Don’t push it.”
————————————————————
“ Nawanagar Parishad nu nirnay, [108] ” Vishwajeet asserted, standing up in the court with all the members of the council seated.
Samarth sat on his throne, Ava beside him — his rightful Maarani.
The seat of Bade Rawal was empty. Rajmata was absent too.
He did not like that they were not a part of this historical resolution of their kingdom, one that they had initiated, pushed, and even facilitated.
But Papa’s mind had been made — “A decision, its echo and its history must only be credited to one ruler.”
And like the self-sacrificing man his father had been from the day he had known him, Bade Rawal had excused himself from this late-night court session that would mark the historic passage of the ‘Solanki Dynasty Inheritance Bill’ which would award the right of inheritance of the throne to the firstborn of a king and not his firstborn son.
With exceptions that listed disabilities, illnesses and mental inabilities, the law would take prospective effect immediately.
“ Nawanagar e raniyo nu rakshan joyu chhe,” Samarth announced. “Aaj pachhi Nawanagar rani nu raaj jose.” [109]
“ Maate — [110] ” Vishwajeet called out.
Seven out of the eleven members raised their hands.
Samarth was proud of his people, his courtiers, his ministers.
These were people of higher intellect, a higher calling, a higher understanding of their histories as well as their future.
They were men who did not cower at the thought of a woman being above them.
Never had. This quorum over and above the simple majority was evidence of that.
The small group opposing the bill would stay, show their displeasure, even create hurdles.
He knew it, could see it clearly — for his own rein as well as for Brahmi’s.
But that was politics. There was no happy ending. His daughter would have to learn it the hard way and he would make sure she did. The way she interacted with the grooms, ran her horses and made team strategies already, he had an inkling that it wouldn’t be that hard for her to learn.
“ Saame — [111] ” The remaining four ministers raised their hands, knowing they had lost and still making their opposition known. He could respect that.
“ Solanki Rajvansh Varso Bill [112] — Pass.”
And with a quiet sigh, the bill that had brought a storm to all of Gujarat 20 years ago, sailed smoothly through his court.
He had borne the brunt of arguments on both sides in these last few months.
He had been lauded for taking a step that no Gujarati kingdom had taken yet, even after two decades of going back and forth in the MahaRawal Parishad.
He had also been ridiculed, accused of pursuing a bill only because he had a daughter who he wanted to inherit, taking the right out of his younger half-brother’s hands, even breaking his own oath.
Samarth had heard it all, with the voices of Giriraj Hukum and Rajmata louder in his ears.
He knew now that right and wrong were not rigid.
That taking an oath and fulfilling it were two ends of a deep river and by the time you crossed it, so much of the world would have changed.
That a wise man, a forward-thinking man, a flexible man was one that knew how to manoeuvre himself to bring his best intentions to life, not rigid words that may lead to more harm than the good they had set out to do. Because —
Dharma matibhya udgritaha.
Dharma was that which was born out of mindfulness.
————————————————————
Even before he reached the door of his parents’ chambers he could hear the loud giggles and louder laughs spilling from under the threshold. The guards stood back. He pushed the door handle down and opened the door for Ava to precede him.
“I am going to eat a Brahmi-apple…” Papa was pretending to take bites off his daughter’s cheek as she thrashed in giggles in his arms. Sharan lay opposite him, using his feet to have a foot-fight with her while Rajmata was on her phone.
“Rani saheb, one minute, I can’t hear you,” she whacked Papa’s arm. “Sid! Quiet.”
Samarth stepped inside behind Ava and closed the door. All eyes turned to them.
“He is here,” Rajmata said. ‘Rani saheb’ meant she was talking to Samriddhi bhabhi. “I’ll call you back.”
“It is passed,” Samarth announced. Sharan hooted with a loud applause and Brahmi joined him, without knowing what she was even applauding.
“8-3?” Papa asked.
“7-4. Rana saheb was on the edge anyway. But it doesn’t matter. He is retiring next year.”
“The news is already everywhere,” Rajmata informed him. “Rani saheb and Rawal saheb knew it, of course, but she just called. Their courtiers are also buzzing.”
“I just spoke to Maan bhai. He was very happy.”
“Did you call Giri?” Papa asked.
“It’s too late. I’ll call him tomorrow.”
“He is awake day and night. But anyway, call him tomorrow.”
“Why are you both standing there? Get in here,” Rajmata crossed her legs and made space on their bed.
Samarth climbed in, settling opposite them where Sharan was half-splayed without a care in the world.
Ava sat beside him just as Brahmi lunged out of Papa’s arms and began jumping in the little space left in the middle of the bed.
“Don’t jump on somebody’s feet!” Ava scolded. “Look down.”
“This bed is too small,” Papa observed.
“It’s better this way,” Rajmata caught Brahmi easily in the circle of one arm and pulled her down.
“Penguins are better than horses,” Sharan began to chant. “Penguins are better than horses…”
“No! They are not, Kaka!” Brahmi screamed.
“Penguins are so better than horses…” he made a song out of it and Brahmi jumped onto him, their wrestling and rolling half-pressing his lap down.
Samarth just kept two hands under two crazy heads and laughed with the rest of them.
He looked at Papa. Blinked. Saw the two of them, splayed across the bed and still unable to cover it from edge to edge. His lids rose and saw the state now.
“Don’t cry,” Ava teased in his ear. He nudged her shoulder with his. She nudged him back, making him topple over Sharan.
“Bhai!”
“Papaaa!”
“Kids!”
— THE END —
Table of Contents
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- Page 114 (Reading here)
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