When Shivali opened her eyes, the first thing she saw were feet, inches from her, walking past her.

Repressing the urge to sneeze from all the dust they raised, she sat up groggily.

Men donning dhoti kurtas mounted the stairs. Few palanquins mixed with them, in which Shivali guessed women were seated. Most people ignored her, but few men crinkled their noses at her in disgust and walked away faster. Maybe even the women inside found her repulsive. For one thing, her hair was dusty and unkempt, then came her outfit of course. Maybe they grouped around her and ogled at her when she was asleep.

As she traced the line of people to the gates of Baland Mahal, reality sunk back in. She had hoped, or rather, expected to wake up in their hotel room, so this would've just been an eerily real dream she could've recounted to people fifty years later.

Once most of the people passed her, she stood up and stretched. Now that it was day, she realised the trees weren't really that dense or tall. The stairs merged into a muddy lane at the foot of the hill, to her right, and a wide patch of barren land surrounded by mounds of tiny hills stretched to her left. Roofs popped up beyond an arch in the lane. She'd have to probably walk for a couple hours before she reached the city.

Thinking with a clearer head, it did not make any sense to actually go to the city. What would she even do there? She had to go home. She had to figure out what exactly had happened yesterday, and do something about it. First, she needed a plan of action.

'You seem to be in need of clothes to change into,' a voice behind her made Shivali jump.

A tiny old lady with silver hair put up in a bun gave her a wrinkly smile, a wicker basket in hand. Inside was a neatly folded green cotton saree.

A bit away, a palanquin was on the ground and four men stood near it.

When Shivali didn't reply, the old lady asked, 'Why are you here, in the middle of nowhere?'

This time, Shivali didn't know what to say even if she wanted to.

'Are you new here? Do you not speak our language?'

'I- I came here yesterday,' Shivali said, and her voice came out hoarse from all the crying.

'Well here you go, take this,' the lady placed the basket in Shivali's hands. 'Take the right lane at the foot of the hill. It will lead you to Panjvati river. You can wash yourself there, assuming you have no lodging here, of course.'

'Thanks,' Shivali murmured, clearing her throat, and the lady turned away to her palanquin.

'Excuse me,' Shivali stopped her. 'Why did you all go to the fortress?'

'Me?' The old woman asked, confused, then seemed to understand. 'Oh, I work there. The others you are asking about probably went to attend the court now, didn't they?' She turned to the four men, who nodded their yeses.

Divya had shown her a pile of bricks that was supposed to be the court for commoners. There was another one too, they hadn't visited it, but it was in the restricted area of the fort, and it was only for the royal family and higher ministers.

After the old lady's palanquin left, Shivali stared down at the saree in her hands. All the women she had seen yesterday, even this old lady, wore the saree in a different manner. Above the waist, you had the pallu falling behind the left shoulder as usual, but below the waist, instead of being draped around both the legs, the saree was tied like a dhoti.

Back in Auroli, people wore sarees this way only during weddings, if they ever did. She herself had helped her cousin with it once, she could easily recollect how to tie it. And once she looked like a normal person, maybe people would be more eager to listen to what she had to say. She could go to the court too, hopefully. She'd plan to present the situation in a not so outrageous manner. Maybe lie a bit.

***

Her stomach growled in protest as Shivali slogged along the dusty lane, the sun scorching above her. Her head was hot and heavy, and there was a ringing in her ears. The sweat glued her jeans to her skin. For miles, all she could see were thick patches of trees to her right as the Baland Mahal hill began ascending, and similar looking two storied mansions to the left, divided by low brick fences, some painted with images of nature.

Shivali was beginning to doubt if the old lady had given her the wrong directions, when she spotted a high stone arch rising in the distance. Few men dotted around it seemed to be guarding the gates.

She hesitated before walking up to them, expecting they'd suspect her like the palace guards did, but they didn't do much more than glance at her face before letting her through.

She continued on a tiny drawbridge over a moat, and followed the narrow path forged by hundreds of feet walking on it, which led her to another hill.

She probably should have asked the guards for directions, but why dig her own grave by calling for attention?

She half doubted if this lane would even lead her to Panjvati but only after a few minutes, she heard the gurgle of water.

Moving in the direction of the sound, she found herself in a clearing, right at the river bank. About a dozen children ran around naked, ankle deep in powdery sand, while women and men sloshed their clothes on rocks. Donkeys stood grazing and occasionally braying nearby.

One of the kids saw Shivali and stopped. So did the rest of the kids. The adults turned to see the cause of this sudden silence.

'Is this Panjvati?' Shivali asked lamely.

'Yes?'

Shivali gulped as all eyes scanned her.

'How can I reach the city from here?' She asked, hoping they'd assume she was some sort of traveller.

One of the kids told her the way and got smacked by her mother, maybe for speaking to a stranger.

Shivali thanked them, and before they could ask her any questions, turned back around.

As soon as she was out of their sight, Shivali turned into the trees. Walking up a slope, she followed the water until the voices of the people died down entirely. Then she walked back out of the trees, into a smaller, less sandier clearing. The river was just a tiny stream here. It probably began somewhere nearby. She'd heard of Panjavati back home too, but there it was supposed to be just a narrow and dirty canal.

She checked around a bit to make sure no one else was around and sat down with an 'umph', putting her basket aside. Her heels cried in relief. Shivali rubbed the soles of her toes to get back the feeling in them. Even doing track for seven years in school didn't prepare her legs for these long stretches of foot travel.

Once her legs felt less like rocks, she decided to take the bath. Once again making sure no one was around, she stripped down to her undergarments.

She jumped out as soon as she stepped in the water. She hadn't expected it to be that cold, not after an entire day of burning under the sun. Slowly forcing her to get into the water, she took a complete dip, washing even her hair. At first Shivali was afraid the few fishes swimming by would come at her, but they instead scattered away in fear, leaving her alone to observe the smooth pebbles at the shallow river bed.

Having had her portion of swimming around and playing with the water a bit, she retired to lean on her side of the bank, still waist deep in water. Closing her eyes she took in the plops of water dripping from her hair as crickets drowned it down with the approach of twilight. Cuckoos cried farewell to the day just as they did everyday even back home. The leaves of all trees rustled occasionally in unison waking her from her stupor, as the breeze dried her hair.

Shivali tried urging her brain to think about going back to the Mahal. Would she need a pass? Was she too young to be allowed? Did only richer people get to attend the court? Would Ajay Pratap even listen to her this time? She herself didn't believe what she wanted to tell him, why would anyone?

Her legs slipped on the pebbles and she fell with a muffled splash into the water, wetting her hair all over again. Cursing, she got out of the stream.

Stars already shone high and far in the sky through the gaps in the trees. Shivali was drained of energy. She decided to sleep here for the night, she couldn't possibly walk all the way back to the Mahal at this time. No one seemed to pass by this place anyway, so she hung her underwear to dry, put her jeans back on and let herself fall asleep by a welcoming tree.

The next time she opened her eyes, it was daybreak. She sat up, rubbing her running nose, and picked twigs and grass out of her hair. 

The court. She rushed to her feet and her head spun. She felt sick. She hadn't eaten anything since the sandwich two days ago. The only water she had drunk was from the river yesterday.

This was no time to think about food though. If she walked fast enough, now that she knew the route, she could reach the Mahal on time.

Tying the saree turned out to be a harder hassle than she had expected. The blouse was the easiest to put on, though a few sizes too loose. The saree itself, Shivali had to fumble around with for a long while, before she managed to tie everything in the right place, and then it all came loose.

Cursing herself and wiping the sweat off her neck, she tied it back, wishing dearly for safety pins. Her hair wouldn't stay in a bun so she settled for tying it into a ponytail with her shoelace.

Picking up the basket, now stuffed with her unfolded jeans and top, Shivali began getting down the slope.

She took a stop just five minutes later, kneeling down to swallow some more of the river water. She almost lost her balance standing back up. If she walked back out of the shade of the trees, she knew she'd throw up. But she had to. She would not spend another day here if she could help it. 

Forcing her body to numb itself to the pain in her legs and the headache, she walked on for a couple minutes more, before a gust of wind hit her, and she fell.

Frowning and panting, she tried to get up. She needed help. She needed to go to where the people were. She'd die here otherwise... die. That's what she'd thought back then too. Maybe she was going back home. She coughed out spit and let herself moan. Please let that be it. Please just get her back home.

Her eyes were closed, but everything was turning white. She slipped again, into the void. She was falling rapidly. A jerk on her arm opened her eyes. A blur. Was it home? No... it was a man... the man she'd been planning to go meet. He was asking something, a mixture of concern and contempt on his face.

'Let me...leave...' she managed to whisper before closing her eyes again.