I like him

Though it was a matriarchal rule, the administrative decisions rested with the Royal Committee.

Comprising of four members, one from each zilla, the committee had stringent qualifying rules for someone to be selected. This committee was replaced every ten years and most royal committee members nominated few candidates from each of their provinces for the next team to be built.

Additionally, every administration came up with more stringent criteria to make the participants' lives tougher. But that didn't deter the applicants, instead the country managed to produce better committees every time. This was reflected in the stable socio-economic disparity index which was an indicator of the right policies being in force.

Once an applicant got selected as a member of the Royal Committee, her/his life became a mix of stress-filled working hours and enjoying unimaginable benefits. One of those benefits was the annual scrutiny of the Queen's performance. The four members were allowed to question and critique each and every decision made by her. It was imperative for the Queen to be able to provide valid answers. In case she failed to convince the committee of the wisdom behind her actions, the members had the authority to reverse that decree.

On the other hand, it was the Queen who had the final say in the selection of the committee members in the final interview.

There were checks and balances to ensure that no absolute power existed with one single person. But, as always… there were ways and means for power to find its hungry owner.

Northern Zilla

"Maa…I err, wanted to speak to you about something," Mriga had woken up really early and walked up to the police station to catch her mother right after her night shift ended.

Bela hid the surprise of seeing her daughter at the station so early in the morning, behind a smile, "sure, let's talk. Should we stop by for some jalebis* and a cup of kesar* milk before heading home?"

Mriga nodded enthusiastically and started walking downhill towards the market. Being the main security check point for the Northern Zilla, the station was located on top of a hill, affording a bird's eye view of the entire region.

At fourteen, Mriga's body was yet to show any signs of womanhood. She had grown tall enough to reach her mother's 5'2 inches but no curves were in sight yet. Her lean body was taut and sprightly with all the rigorous physical activity. Her hair fell just below the shoulders in a rippled cascade and those sparkling chocolate brown eyes held an unusual shyness in them this morning.

"So, tell me which guy has prompted you to leave the delights of your sleep so early in the morning," asked her mother, holding a steaming cup of fragrant milk and a sweet, crisp jalebi.

Mriga looked at her mother with surprise, "how did you know that I wanted to speak about a guy?"

Bela hid her smile behind her own glass and gestured for daughter to continue with whatever that she wished to say.

"Err, do you remember that I mentioned about a classmate who had helped me with my luggage during the last trip back home? In the chaos of getting the younger kids on board, I had misplaced my trunk and after searching for half an hour, I was ready to accept defeat. Suddenly, this guy from my class had come panting and dragging my luggage with him," she said, the memory bringing an involuntary smile around the corner of her lips.

"Yes, I remember. You were extremely grateful to him, especially because his cart was about to depart yet he had risked bringing your luggage," her mother recalled.

"Yes, the same guy! He…err, belongs to the Southern Zilla, so he was travelling by road to reach his place. Since the day he has joined the Gurukul, he has been topping every exam. His focus and dedication are legendary," she explained with pride in her voice.

Bela maintained a straight face at her daughter's enthusiastic description of the person. She could already see how enamored her little girl was with her "benefactor".

Meanwhile, Mriga went on with her story, "uh, so we became good friends after we came back from that vacation. He is very helpful, also quite caring. He is great at sports as well."

"Alright, I get it that he is a paragon of virtues. So, are you trying to say that you look up to him as a role model, like an older brother?" her mother asked mischievously.

Mriga gave her mother a look of growing horror, "nooooo, that is, I mean…I do look up to him for inspiration, but not in the way you are saying."

She couldn't afford for her mother to get the wrong impression about her feelings for him.

"We are err… good friends. Just that some silly girls from the class have started teasing me, linking us up…you know how it is, right, not that anything is brewing between him and me," she added hastily.

With no reaction coming forth from her mother, she decided to risk it and say, "it's just that I think I have started to like him and everything about him. Do you know, he has the cutest smile and a dimple appears on his cheeks when he smiles wide enough."

Bela looked at her daughter's smitten expression, "I can see how much you like him. But the question is, does he like you back?"

Mriga breathed a sigh of relief at the absence of censure in her mother's voice. She had debated endlessly with herself before coming back home about whether she should discuss this with her or not. But then there was no one else that she could have gone to.

Throughout her childhood, her parents had been her biggest support, friends and companions. Every decision in the house was taken after a noisy, sometimes loud conversation and she had been a part of that since she turned seven years old. Looking at her mother's serene face right now, she knew she had been correct in coming and discussing this confusing sea of emotions with her.

Jalebi – Deep fried, sweets made from flour, orange in colour

Kesar – Saffron