Maya’s Dream

She fell with a thud. At least that is how it felt. She had been reading a book she had checked out from the library on Indian History and fallen asleep reading and dreaming about villages and rice crops.

Maya opened her eyes fully expecting to have fallen off her bed. The one with the floral comforters and stickers that she had stuck over the years. Instead it seemed like she was in the middle of a courtyard of some sort. The afternoon sun beamed down on her. A corridor ran around the perimeter of the courtyard studded with pillars. No one seemed to be around. A swing took the center of place under the tiled structure. Picking herself up, she pinched herself for good measure to make sure she was indeed dreaming.

Letting out a yelp, she rubbed her forearm and decided to find a way out. Maya had always been adventurous. At thirteen, she had been devouring books for years. The ones with little boys and girls who got themselves into all kinds of scrapes and managed to escape with nothing happening to them. Cheered at the prospect, she clambered on to the corridor and made her way towards the swing. The walls were bright white and felt powdery to touch. There were alcoves set every few yards, each holding a lamp (the kind her mom lit in their in-house temple).

Bravely walking towards a stout wooden door that was open, she cautiously peeked in. It seemed dark and cavernous inside. Even as she debated if she should go inside, a booming voice startled her.

“Who are you, child?”

Nobody had called her child. Indignant, she turned around to see an older gentleman looking at her curiously. He looked right out of the pictures she had seen in the book she was reading. A half-moon spectacle was on his face. He wore a thick gold chain around his bare torso and a white silk shawl covered most of his bare chest. He was wearing one of those dhotis her dad insisted on wearing when they were in India. Realizing she had not answered his question, she looked up.

“My name is Maya. I am not sure how I got here. I was reading a book and I fell asleep…”

“Come here, Maya.”

He walked to the swing and seated himself. Patting the space next to him, he indicated for her to sit. Wary, but not sure of herself, Maya sat next to him.

“You look like my daughter Saraswathi but you are dressed like the Englishwomen.”

Maya looked at herself. She was still in her school clothes. Her mom had asked her to change into her PJs but she had been so carried away by what she was reading that she had not changed. Black leggings, a sweater dress and Mary Jane shoes.

“How old are you? Who are your parents? How did you get here?”

“I am thirteen. My mom is Lavanya and my dad is Shankar. I don’t know how I got here.”

It occurred to Maya that perhaps she had fallen into the past. Brightening, she turned to the man who could possibly be her ancestor.

“What date is it?”

The man considered her question for a minute and answered, “October 3rd, 1839.”

Maya was now sure she was in some kind of a dream like Alice in Wonderland. Deciding to make the most of it, she continued, her childlike enthusiasm getting the better of her.

“Can you show me around? Who else lives here? Where is this place?”

If the man found her odd, he seemed to hide it well. He called out.

“Saraswathi, come here, child.”

A little girl about the same height as Maya stepped from the room she had peeked into.

“Appa, did you call me?” she asked shyly looking at Maya through the corner of her eyes.

“We have a guest Maya. Can you take her to your Amma and give her something to eat? Also, show her around while I find out how to find her parents.”

Maya started to protest but the girl reached out and took her hand. Soon, they were in the kitchen where a log fire danced merrily while a pot of milk formed a skin and seemed ready to boil over. A woman much older than her looked at her kindly.

“Maya, can you take off your shoes? We do not wear shoes inside the home.” Maya pulled them off with alacrity and left them in the courtyard before returning to the kitchen. Saraswathi led her to the backyard past the kitchen where she saw a well. The kind she had only seen in pictures. She watched as the other girl drew water using a pulley and rope. Soon, she washed up and sat with the lady and her new acquaintance drinking fragrant milk.

“Do you go to school?” Maya asked Saraswathi. Saraswathi shook her head no. “Why not?” Maya asked curious to know what Saraswathi did with her time.

“Do you want to come and watch me work?”

Maya followed her eagerly.

They walked out of the home to a low shack behind the home. Gathering a pail and a handful of something smelly, they walked in the dirt to another building that smelled of the farms that Maya had gone on field trips to. Saraswathi held out a pail for her to hold. Together they trooped into the building where a bunch of cows were tethered. Scared at such close proximity to the huge animals, Maya hung back. Saraswathi would have none of it. They both fed the cows, poured water into the trough to keep them slaked and walked out.

Soon she was cleaning rice of rocks, shelling peas and helping Saraswathi sweep and mop the house and courtyard. They chatted as they worked. Maya told her all about her home and her brother Anand. Saraswathi seemed sad as she shared that she was the only daughter. She longed for siblings but had to make do with the many cousins who lived next door to them. The boys were sent to Paatashala, she said, when they turned seven and only came back after their education was complete. She would be married in a year or two.

Maya looked horrified but Saraswathi seemed to be happy. Boys were still gross to Maya but Saraswathi said all the girls she knew were married or engaged to be married. It was just the way things were.

Dusk fell and Saraswathi showed her how to wash up near the well and she changed into fresh clothes and offered one of hers to Maya. She wore a long skirt with a blouse and braided her hair herself. She offered to braid Maya’s hair as well and the two sat in the backyard and discovered a new kind of friendship.

They watched as Saraswathi’s Amma made dinner and they sat around in the kitchen eating while her mom served her dad outside. The light was falling and they lit lamps and closed the back entrances.

Saraswathi’s father had not been able to find a way to help Maya. He suggested she stay with them till they found someone to help. Maya was starting to miss home. All of the day’s labor had made her tired and she was yawning as the sun went down. Saraswathi’s mom spread mats along the corridor and they lay chatting.

Dreams of cows chasing her and falling into the well startled her awake and she felt disoriented. Opening her eyes, she was relieved to find herself back in her bed.

“Quite a weird dream,” she muttered to herself as she sank back into her bed.

“Maya, when did you learn to braid your hair like that and since when have you taken to wearing pavadai to bed?” Her mom asked as she came down in the morning.

If this moved you, send a tip.