The Henna Artist
Alka Joshi
The traveler has to knock
at every alien door to come to his own,
and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end.
—From the poem Journey Home by Rabindranath Tagore
When the Goddess of Wealth comes to give you her blessing, you shouldn’t leave the room to wash your face.
—Hindu Proverb
CHARACTERS WHO APPEAR
Lakshmi Shastri: 30-year-old henna artist, living in the city of Jaipur Radha: Lakshmi’s 13-year-old sister, born after Lakshmi left her village Malik: Lakshmi’s servant boy, 7 or 8 years old (he does not know which), lives in the crowded inner city with his Muslim auntie and cousins Parvati Singh: 35-year-old society matron, wife of Samir Singh, mother of Ravi and Govind Singh, distant cousin of the Jaipur royal family Samir Singh: renowned architect from a high-caste Rajput family, husband of Parvati Singh and father of Ravi and Govind Singh Ravi Singh: 17-year-old son of Parvati and Samir Singh, in boarding school at Mayo College (a few hours from Jaipur) Lala: long-serving spinster servant in the Singh household
Sheela Sharma: 15-year-old daughter of Mr. and Mrs. V. M. Sharma, a wealthy Brahmin couple of humble origins Mr. V. M. Sharma: official building contractor of the Jaipur royal family, husband of Mrs. Sharma, father of four, including his youngest daughter Sheela Sharma Jay Kumar: bachelor school chum of Samir Singh from
Oxford days, practicing physician in Shimla (at the foothills of the Himalayas, an 11-hour drive from Jaipur) Mrs. Iyengar: Lakshmi’s landlady in Jaipur
Mr. Pandey: Lakshmi’s neighbor and another tenant of Mrs. Iyengar, Sheela Sharma’s music tutor Hari Shastri: Lakshmi’s estranged husband
Saas: means “mother-in-law” in Hindi; when Lakshmi refers to her saas, she is referring to Hari’s mother, and when addressing a mother-in-law directly, a woman would call her by the respectful “Saasuji”
Mrs. Joyce Harris: young Englishwoman, wife of a British army officer who is part of the transition team in Jaipur for the handover of the British Raj Mrs. Jeremy Harris: Joyce Harris’s mother-in-law
Pitaji: means “father” in Hindi
Maa: means “mother” in Hindi
Munchi: old man from Lakshmi’s village who taught her how to draw and taught Radha how to mix paints Kanta Agarwal: 26-year-old wife of Manu Agarwal, educated in England, originally from a literary Calcutta family Manu Agarwal: Director of Facilities for the Jaipur royal family, husband of Kanta, educated in England, related to the Sharma family Baju: an old family servant of Kanta and Manu Agarwal
Maharaja of Jaipur: a figurehead post-independence, the highest ranking royal in the city, wealthy in land and money, possessing multiple palaces in Jaipur Naraya: the builder of Lakshmi’s new house in Jaipur
Maharani Indira: the maharaja’s stepmother, married to the late Maharaja of Jaipur, childless, also referred to as the dowager queen Maharani Latika: the current maharaja’s wife, 31 years old, educated in Switzerland Madho Singh: Maharani Indira’s parakeet
Geeta: widow, Samir Singh’s current mistress
Mrs. Patel: one of Lakshmi’s loyal henna clients, proprietress of a hotel A glossary of Hindi, French & English terms is listed in the back.
PROLOGUE
Ajar, State of Uttar Pradesh, India
September 1955
Her feet step lightly on the hard earth, calloused soles insensible to the tiny pebbles and caked mud along the riverbank. On her head she balances a mutki, the same earthenware jug she uses to carry water from the well every day. Today, instead of water, the girl is carrying everything she owns: a second petticoat and blouse, her mother’s wedding sari, The Tales of Krishna her father used to read to her—the pages fabric-soft from years of handling—and the letter that arrived from Jaipur earlier this morning.
When she hears the voices of the village women in the distance, the girl hesitates. The gossip-eaters are chatting, telling stories, laughing, as they wash saris, vests, petticoats and dhotis. But when they spot her, she knows they will stop to stare or spit at the ground, imploring God to protect them from the Bad Luck Girl. She reminds herself of the letter, safe inside the mutki, and thinks, Let them. It will be the last time.
Yesterday, the women were haranguing the headman: Why is the Bad Luck Girl still living in the schoolteacher’s hut when we need it for the new schoolmaster? Afraid to make a sound for fear they would come inside and pull her out by her hair, the girl had remained perfectly still within the four mud walls. There was no one to protect her now. Last week, her mother’s body had been burned along with the bones of other dead animals, the funeral pyre of the poor. Her father, the former schoolteacher, had abandoned them six months ago, and shortly after, he drowned in a shallow pool of water along the riverbank, so drunk he likely hadn’t felt the sting of death.
Every day for the past week, the girl had lain in wait on the outskirts of the village for the postman, who cycled in sporadically from the neighboring village. This morning, as soon as she spotted him, she darted out from her hiding place, startling him, and asked if there were any letters for her family. He had frowned and bit his cheek, his rheumy eyes considering her through his thick glasses. She could tell he felt sorry for her, but he was also peeved—she was asking for something only the headman should receive. But she held his gaze without blinking. When he finally handed over the thick onionskin envelope addressed to her parents, he did so hastily, avoiding her eyes and pedaling away as quickly as he could.