His khwaish, His junnon

-| Unexpectedly expected

As the vehicle stopped I made my attempt to get out of it and driver kaka came behind me, I shut the car door lightly.

"Aapka shukriya kaka, aap bus hume bata dijiye k pooja ka saaman kaha se khreeden." I asked him in the most respectful way possible, he's an elderly man and it doesn't feel right to order him for work.

(Thank you, uncle. Just let us know where to buy the items for the worship.)

"Koi nahi bitiya aap yahi rukiye mai pooja ki thaali banva laata hun." He said and rushed all the way to cross the road, before I could argue with him.

(No worries, daughter. You stay here, I'll get the worship plate made.)

I smiled softly and shook my head in defeat ever since I've returned back, the excitement people living or working in my house are showing is making me uneasy and blissful at the same time. I don't like them getting stressed over my every little need, yet the love they are showering is something that gives a warm sensation to the heart.

My own people, my own place.

Yesterday evening I landed and my soul is beyond happy, though many things have changed here but still there's a sense of belongingness. Those separated parts of the past when every now and then flash infront of me, my heart pings. It's been years and I want to visit every place where once I've spent days of my childhood, to unveil the desire to calculate how things grew up while I was apart from them.

The first place on my wishlist was to visit the local temple, to get blessings and to thank god for all the positivity he has granted to me and my loved ones.

I observed the temple that I often used to visit with my dad, a construction by the royal family where all their rituals used to be practiced, and I remember participating in all of them with my father.

But now that small antique temple is reconstructed into a bigger one, no old style painted walls in vibrant colours are instead replaced by new giant marble walls. No evidence of those small stalls decorated with handmade items, only that endless line of newly made showrooms and shops.

Nostalgia hit me hard, I have a lot of memories with this religious place.

I really wished I could come along with my father also to spend some time with him, just his work didn't allow him to, so he sent a driver with me.

When my eyes went to the children running around the temple it automatically reminded me of the similar scenes from my memories.

"Ritika bai sa dekhiye, Advik humara prasad lekar bhag gaye." Khwaish's 9 year old figure cried infront of the 15 year old, and the eldest child of the Rathore family.

(Ritika sister, look, Advik took our offering and ran away.)

It was one of the pooja's that Rathore's practice at the start of every year for the welfare of everyone in the empire. The day was no different the pooja was held at the local temple with all the royal priests and a huge crowd of the rural people.

"Khushu royie mat aap humara prasad le lijiye." Ritika shook her head giving up, as she's the eldest it was her responsibility to take care of all these younger ones, and the most difficult to handle is this mischievous 6 year old kid who happens to be her cousin brother.

(Khushi, don't cry, you take my offering.)

He has been running around pulling stranger's clothes until he was satisfied looking at their irritated expressions.