March 1960. Ranikhet Estate, Shimla, India.

"Girl, I hope you are feeling better now. I have decided to appoint you as the assistant to the estate manager inspite of your display of inappropriate behaviour that girls of good breeding don't indulge in. I expect your etiquette to be proper if you're going to stay here. I don't tolerate any negligence and nonsense. I want you to be my ears and eyes on the estate and report anything out of the ordinary. Mr Swaminarayan has mentioned that you are studying. I expect you to continue with your education. The necessary travel arrangements to Modern College in the town will be provided. After lunch which takes places at noon, you required to report to Inderavadhan, the estate manager directly. You can leave now. Yashoda will show you to your quarters." Devyani Singh informed me in a manner akin to someone who always got her way.

It cannot be possible. She has ordered me to work with that handsome ogre who gets on my wrong side. I am sure that the next time we talk to each other, we will be at loggerheads. All the infatuation that I have for that devil vanishes into thin air when he opens that vile mouth of his to hurl insults at me. I began to protest. But the stern arch of my grandmother's eyebrow left no room for argument. I realized that if I were to survive in this madhouse, I'll have to flow with the tide.

I heard my inner voice which suspiciously sounded like Sandy's cheer me on. I was no coward but the prospect of working under that devil unnerved me. Squaring my shoulders and looking intently into her eyes, I simply nodded and walked out.

My head was in a tizzy. I ruminated over the rut that I was stuck in. I was feeling exhilarated after meeting the woman who had borne my father. She was the only mother figure I had left in my life. I wanted to get to know her better. My father's facial features strongly favored his mother's. With time, I hope that she would forgive my parents and accept me.

 The only downside was Inderavadhan. He was trouble. He made me feel things that I had never felt before. There was a warm fluttery feeling in my tummy when I thought of him

"Jassu! What are you thinking!You can't like that spawn of Satan! You're better than this!" I silently berated myself for such errant thoughts.

 He hates me. I hate him. There was no way we would ever be civil towards each other.

From what I had gathered, it seemed to me that Indervadhan was under my grandmother's thumb. The boy would go to any lengths to fulfill her orders. I had found his Achilles heel, my grandma who would be my savior.

I smiled to myself and was ready to take the bull by its horns.

I found myself standing in a corridor I did not recognize. It was sparsely furnished. The passageway was lit by old lanterns. Cobwebs adorned the ceiling. Dusty glass cabinets  lined the corridor. The childlike urge to unearth the unknown treasures that lay hidden beneath the thick blanket of dust spurred me on. I swiped the dust off one of cabinets and came across black and white pictures of my father.

A gasp of surprise left my lips.He was atop a regal looking stallion scouring the countryside. He looked young,happy and carefree. In another picture, he was hugging the stern matriarch that I had just met.

A familiar voice startled me.

"Miss Jasmine! Here you are! Maa Sahib has asked me to show you to your quarters. Follow me, child!" Yashoda said beaming at me.

"Yes ma'am! I am sorry. I got lost!"

"Child, do not apologize and call me Yashoda. Now let's get you settled in for the night. You will be sharing theroom with my daughter, Shanta." She said with a warm smile.

I followed her as she led me around the ginormous house. She descended down the central staircase, circumvented the living room and led me to a door. She threw the door open to a nondescript bedroom with wooden double beds and teak dressers. The walls were white and sparsely furnished with baubles and trinkets. A single window with blinds half drawn that allowed a sliver of moonlight to illuminate the dark room stood out to me.

"Shanta, wake up! You have a guest!" Yashoda yelled lighting up the old lamp.

My eyes fell upon a figure huddled on one of the beds.

"Maa, let me sleep. That Gayatri works me hard! I need my rest." She said rubbing the sleep from her eyes."

Her sleepy gaze settled on me and she brightened considerably.

"You! You and I are going to get along famously! I love anyone who one ups that Gayatri. Come and sit here! I'll tell you everything about everyone here." Shanta rambled on.

Yashoda shook her head in amusement.

"Good night, child! You have to be up by five thirty as breakfast is served at six. Shanta make her feel welcome." She said

Shanta solemnly nodded. As the door shut, she jumped out of her bed with alacrity and locked the door. She grabbed my hand and seated me on her bed. I knew that I had found another exuberant Sandy.

I smiled and said, "Friends?"

"Of course! You have been the talk of the estate today. It looks like an old ghost has returned. The old cook was rambling on about you being the dead Rosalie come alive! I have to ask you.Are you a witch or a vampire? Then use your claws and end Gayatri, the bane of my life. I had fun hearing her cry when Maa Sahib admonished her. It was surprising to old Indu side with Gayatri. Usually, he avoids her like plague even though they are engaged!" She said.

I decided to play dumb.

"Who is this Rosalie? Why are you saying that I look like her! Stop making up stories. I am no fool."

"Jasmine, believe me! I'll show you!" She said and slid out of the room.

I was excited to hear more about my mother. So I needled her. She seemed to be the gazette of the estate.

After a few minutes, the door opened and Shanta came in. She was holding a picture in her hand. She slid it into my hand.

"Look at it! This is her. We do not mention her in this house. The man beside her is Maa sahib's older son,Pratap Singh. They are the Romeo and Juliet of Shimla. Their story is very tragic." She said.

I fake shock and pretend to look at the photograph with my mouth wide open.

"This is not possible! I do not know her! It seems to be a strange twist of fate. Tell me their story."

Her voice takes on a mystical note and she looked vaguely into distance.

"It all started at the ball hosted by the mayor of Shimla. The hero of our story, Pratap had been invited as well.He was a fine gentleman and the English maids in their bouncy gowns swooned over his regal bearings. But none of them caught his eye. It is said that he refused to dance with anyone until she came along. Rosalie, dressed in her shimmery gown, looked like an angel descended from the heavens. She was the belle of the ball and the beauty of the town. She boldly approached him and asked him for a dance. It was love at first sight for the two. The ball got over but the two still corresponded with each other. The old ladies say that they used to meet under the Cedar trees in an obscure part of the estate and goon long horse rides. When Maa Sahib and Rosalie's father came to know about their affair, they were livid. Maa Sahib gave him an ultimatum. But he chose love over family and fortune and married her. He came with her for one last time to seek his mother's blessings. But the adamant lady turned him away and broke all ties with him. He took his bride and was never seen again. But six years ago, a call came from Kasauli that he and Rosalie had been burnt to death and the whereabouts about their five year old daughter unknown. The whole estate mourned for Pratap and his little girl. But nobody uttered Rosalie's name.The heartbroken Maa sahib tried to find her granddaughter but they never found her."

"Oh my God! Such a tragic story!"I said.

"Maybe, we can scare Gayatri by telling her that you are Rosalie come alive. I'll her that you have come back to haunt Vaikunth Niwas! That gullible fool will believe me." She said lightening the mood.

"You are a witch at heart. You call that Inderavadhan, Indu?"

"Yes! He is like my older brother. We banded together to play pranks on Gayatri and the rest is history. Don't worry about him. He has a heart of gold!" She reassured me

"Are you sure that you are talking about the same person? He is always uncouth and keeps on belittling me and putting me in trouble! I hate him."

I yawned.

"It's time for bed, my dear ghost.Even the ghosts need their beauty sleep. I'll tell you more about this madhouse tomorrow." She bid me good night.

I put my head on the soft pillow and slept tight. I dreamt of handsome princes dancing with beautiful princesses in bouncy gowns.