The Ford Ikon was slowly and smoothly going down  hill from Mount Abu. .Gayathri gazed outside. The view was breathtaking. Sridhar was fast asleep  beside her. The driver Sukhvinder was humming a song.

She smiled to herself. After a fortnight of lovely Honey Mooning they were getting back to Delhi, this Rajasthani  girl and the Tam Iyer young man.

Their’s was a love marriage. The two families were neighbours in Alwar and the friendship between them was something to be envied. These two had grown up together as kids. Sridhar moved to Delhi to study in   Sree Ram College of Commerce. The two houses would sport a festive look when he came down on vacations. Gayathri did  a course in Interior Decoration  at  the local college and learned Hindustani Classical Music. She had a very melodious voice. Like in Fairy Tales, one fine day they discovered that what they felt for each other was something beyond ordinary friendship.

The two families were only too happy to see them  get married. They selected Mount Abu for Honeymooning,  as they had gone there very often with the families. The  nooks and corners had ,each a story to relate. She was glowing with happiness.

The car stopped with a jerk !

“Shuck  !” cried Sukhvinder.  Sridhar woke up with a start.

On opening the bonnet they discovered that the fan belt had snapped.

Sridhar looked around. There was a huge mansion, a few feet away from where the car had stopped.

“Sukhvinder, you hitch a lift and get to the nearest garage and get a replacement. We shall see if we can get an invitation to wait inside that house.”

Meanwhile the huge gate of the mansion opened and a lady in her forties peeped out.

Gayathri  looked at her.

‘Padmini’ , she whispered to herself. It was as if the floodgates of memory had just been opened.

She beckoned them and said, “Problem ? Come and wait inside till your driver comes.”

She was eyeing Gayathri’s mehendied  arms and the Sindur on her forehead.

“Come inside, sister. Honeymoon?  Where are you going?”

By now, a hefty, rough looking man came out. She spoke to him hurriedly. He smiled and asked them to come in and walked ahead. Gayathri looked at him.

 Oh ! God ! This is Rana Vikram… words echoed in her heart.

“I’m Padmini…my husband.” The lady introduced  him and they went inside. Soon Vikram and Sridhar were talking and Padmini took Gayathri inside.

She looked around. She could identify each and every space there.

From the massive dining room, she could see outside.

A wave of sadness engulfed her as she gazed at the small beautifully built  house in the  compound outside.

“Your  name ?”, Padmini had brought a tall glass of milk and a plate filled an assortment of sweets.

“Gayathri” she whispered.

“There used to be a lovely Jhoola (swing) in front of that house…tied to the gulmohar tree?” Words flew out of her mouth.

“How do you know ?,”  Padmini looked at her with an expression of surprise.

“Oh ! My mother had given me a description about this place. The picture is so vivid in my memory…that’s why. She used to talk about you, Padmini, Vikram Rana and your brother Madhav. Is he around?”

“Your  Mother ? What was her name?”

“Sheetala..”

“God “ she whispered. “ So… she is still alive ? She married ?”

“No. My foster Mother. She brought me up. She was a friend of my mother. She had a very sad tale to relate.”

“Come with me,”Padmini almost dragged her through the back door towards the small idyllic home.

She knocked at the door,  “Bhayya…Bhayya open the door.”

The door opened.

Her head whirled and a wave of emotions overtook her.

Madhav.  Old.  But  still looking so handsome. A long beard flowing down on his pale off-white kurta.  Like a Rishi. The eyes sparkled. She gazed into the eyes and could read that it  was a calm heart ensconced deep inside  . But was it really calm ?

They went in. Padmini was telling him something and went out leaving them together.

“So ! You are Sheetal’s foster daughter. Sheetal….where is she now?”

“She  is no more.”

“How…I mean how come she was with your family.”

“I really don’t know. She was a part of our family. We used to call her Maa. A very pious person. Two years back, before she passed away, she related her story. That’s why I was surprised to see all of you. And the house and garden- everything looks like what she told me. Shall we go down to the river behind ? Is it still flowing with great speed ?”

Madhav took her with him down the path sheltered with trees to the river bank. She stood there looking at the ripples. It was the month of October. The trees were full with flowers. The grass beneath their feet felt cool. She went towards the Champaka tree and stood looking at it.

“You and Sheethal used to sit under this tree and talk for hours, I presume.”

His face was slightly clouded and he tried to hold back the tears, which filled his eyes.

They sat there on a big rock. The river was flowing beneath their feet.

“Was Sheetal happy with all of you?”

he asked.

“How could she ? “ Gayathri whispered.”You used to play the flute here, remember and she used to hum and dance?”

She got up and reached out to a hollow in the tree and he said.

“Don’t. There may be some insects or ..”

“Nothing… Don’t worry. I’m just pulling out the payals( anklets).”

She took out a pair off silver anklets  shaded with time.

“How…how…”

“Sheetal Maa told me. She said she put them in there while waiting for you…  a few moments before she fell into the river.”

He looked at her with an expression of surprise and shock.

She sat on the rock again and caressed the payals and gave them to him. He took them with trembling fingers.

“Waiting for me…but she knew I was away at Udaipur.”

“The time has come to tell you everything. Perhaps it is destiny that made our car break down here, right near your home. If only you had married her earlier…..this may not have happened.”

He looked at her, waiting to hear  more.

“You had left for Udaipur, promising to be back on the Shravan Pournima. A day before that was the Mela at Neemrana Fort. Padmini, your father, mother and Rohini aunty..all had gone to attend the Pooja and the Fair. Only Chandu was there. Is he still here? “ She did not wait for the answer but continued.

“Any way Chandu was deaf. He would not have heard anything. Sheetal got a note from you asking her to come here. And she was thrilled. She never expected that you were back. You had stated in the note that Pithaji and Maa wanted to meet Sheetal’s parents too and fix the Muhurath.”

“But I never sent her any such note,” he was whispering in a daze. “I was at Udaipur and came back only two days after she disappeared.”

“She came here . The whole place was deserted. Everyone had gone to the Mela. She had brought your favourite Gevar (Milk  Sweet) . She stood there looking for you. The water in the river was surging that day.

Then she saw him standing here…Vikram Rana. With a smile that sent a chill through her. “Arre.. you came after all, my little pigeon,”

he spoke.

She was scared. He came near her and laughed aloud. ”So…you believed that Madhav had sent the note ,did you ? Ha Ha Ha ! Anyway. Madhav is still in Udaipur. No one is here except the two of us. You think I used to frequent the home for Padmini ? You are mistaken. It is you I want.”

She was furious.

“Don’t ever come even near me. You’ll regret.”

He was mad. He was closing towards her and she  kept stepping behind and in a moment jumped into the river. Chandu was there looking at this…but Chandu was dumb. Chandu was deaf.”

“You were ever in her heart.”

She got up and walked towards the house. He followed. Padmini came towards them, “Bahin, the car has been set right. Why don’t you stay for lunch?”

“No, thank you. We have to reach Delhi in good time. Thank you so much for the love and affection you have shown.”

Madhav stood there seeing them get into the car and drive away. He went to the garage and got into his car…..

 Sheetal is gone.  Oh ! God.. What a villain this Vikram has been. All the while pretending to console me and trying to help me. Pretending to arrange for a search to  find  Sheetal. And Chandu? He was found raving mad.  Bouts of crying and laughing. They had to send him home. He is still alive and more than ninety two years old. A  living dead opening his mouth only to eat. He  had adored Sheetal.

The car stopped in front of Parshan’s home.

“What a surprise, Madhav ! What brings you here after so many years ?”

Parshan was a  very very close friend of Madhav and a practicing Advocate.

“I want to change my Will, Parsha.”

He drew up a new Will  leaving every single moveable and immoveable property and all his money to Charity. Including the  mansion that he, Padmini and Vikram were living in. Parshan  asked no questions. “Keep this also with you. After my demise you can take it there. If Vikram creates any problem, refusing to move  out….just throw him out.”

 Madhav came out. He told himself,”I can’t make my sister a widow. This is the only way I can have my vendetta. And very soon you’ll be on the streets, Vikram, for what you have done.”

He drove listlessly.

He smiled to himself.

“ Gayathri.. I know who you are. I could make out from the way you were moving your  gold ring towards the left and right alternately…something I used to tease you about, always . Funny this should happen after I spoke to Swami Poornananda last morning about reincarnation…May your life be filled with happiness. Perhaps, if I do have another birth….”

The Ikon was nearing a motel near Jaipur.  Gayathri was fast asleep. The moment  she had got into the car  from the mansion  she had dozed off.  The car  stopped. Sridhar shook her gently….

“Hey ! Get up. We are having lunch here in this motel.”

As they delved into the soft phulkas(Roti),  he asked her,

“So? what were you chatting with Mrs. Vikram ?”

“Mrs. Vikram ? Who is she ?”

She had no clue as to what he was talking about. He took it as a joke and  said no more.

The next morning’s paper talked about a car swerving off the hills near Mount Abu and the sole occupant – one  Madhav – being killed almost instantaneously.

The news made absolutely no impact on her.

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FOOT NOTE :
( I really don’t understand why these are called foot notes, when they are still penned by hands !!)

I am very very fascinated by the theory of rebirth. I read anything that deals with the unusual, occult, Nadi etc. etc. . This story sprung in my mind after reading the book "Many Lives, Many Masters,” by DR.Brian Weiss.