Keep One’s Nose To The Grindstone

After finishing a cup of cut fruits and a bowl of porridge, Katyayani looked up and asked Eka. "Is Chatvari back?"

At Eka's affirmative nod, she said, "Have everyone come to the hall in a few minutes. I have something to say."

The central hall was a long rectangular space. The four edges of the hall had been converted into study corners.

There was an exquisitely carved marble chess board on a small table, with two stools made in the shape of elephant's feet. On the side, there were a few musical instruments lying on the ground, waiting to be strummed.

The other end had various shapes and sizes of pestles and mortars kept on top of a wooden cabinet. Inside the cabinet were packs and jars of various dried herbs with clearly marked labels on them. There were also thick volumes of books on medicine along with a copy of the much revered Charak Samhita* kept inside a locked cupboard on the side.

A few cushions and a broad but low table had been pushed against another corner. The table was actually a storage box which contained a thick pile of ledgers, some money, scriptures and soft-bound books. Many of these books were first copies of manuscripts written by famous mathematicians. The topics included calculus, quadratic equations and the number system.

Eka was a closeted math fanatic and a couple of these books had been 'borrowed' from the library of Gangadhar by Trini couple of months ago when Katyayani and Trini participated in that mercenary assignment. Though Katyayani did not possess the same level of interest or talent as Eka, she was quite adept at handling numbers across her various businesses.

The fourth corner of the hall held racks of weapons and armour, all suited to be used by women.

The flooring in these areas was covered with beautifully embroidered, thick rugs and carpets to sit on, while the centre of the hall remained bare except for a few pairs of ghungroo* lying on the ground.

Each of these heavy anklets contained 200 small sized balls made out of silver. The number of balls on a ghungroo reflected the level of proficiency which the wearer had achieved in that form of classical dancing. The ghungroo with 200 balls was not only the heaviest, but also the highest number which one could reach in terms of proficiency.

By the time Katyayani came to the hall, the four women had already gathered there. Looking at them, Katyayani had a warm feeling in her heart.

This was her only family ever since she first met them for the first time after her parents' demise.

Katyayani was a girl who measured her words when she spoke each time. Even though she was emotionally attached to the four women, she hadn't completely opened her heart to anyone, including them.

"We will be going back to the Bali Mansion in three days' time. I want to leave the mountain before snow actually hits us. Eka, start packing up the necessary daily items that we need."

At the very mention of Katyayani's paternal clan, the expressions on everyone's faces turned sour. It wasn't that the family ill-treated Katyayani, but rather, her presence or absence didn't matter to any of them. It never had!

Eka snorted and replied. "I will ensure that we have enough supplies of our own even if the Bali family were to starve us! I haven't forgotten last year's experience when there was undue snowfall. Forget hot food, they didn't even give us enough grains and rice to fill our stomachs."

Katyayani didn't refute her and instead turned her attention to the next person. "Dvi, I know this is a short notice. I had originally thought that we would get more time to organise things better. Unfortunately, the weather doesn't seem to follow my wishes! You will be leaving tomorrow early morning. Go to the dharamshala* and inform them to start making preparations to shut down for the next quarter. While you are there, check for new updates and pick up the ledger containing the updated addresses of our people across the kingdom."

Dharamshala was a place which had been set-up by Katyayani's mother at the base of the Mandh mountain when she first arrived here after her marriage. The place catered specifically to females.

The purpose was to help orphans, unwed pregnant girls and widows. This inn helped these people in various ways, in getting a new identity, finding a job or husband. In case of discarded old women who had nowhere to go or no purpose in life, they were retained to help maintain the place and take care of the people around. The only exchange that the Dharamshala asked for in return was unwavering loyalty and any kind of information.

At the age of 13, Katyayani had taken over the management of this place which had been run post her mother's demise by the four attendants. The day to day management was handled by the trusted old women at the inn.

But all the people who were accepted by the Dharamshala were vetted through a well-set network before they were accepted in the inner sanctum.

Anyone who came here for the first time was simply provided with a place to stay and free meals till the story provided by them was checked out. Those who were genuine cases, were absorbed in while the ones with unclear motives and murky backgrounds were simply driven out citing lack of space and resources.

Like the wooden cabin, the dharamshala also seemed nondescript, almost run-down from the outside.

"Don't worry. I will go down first thing tomorrow," assured Dvi.

Katyayani nodded and turned to look at Trini and continued with her instructions. "You will be going down with Dvi. Help her organise the people there. All the new people residing in the dharamshala will be left there to recuperate and manage the place. Ensure that they have enough provisions to last them the next three months. Ask the old hands to come up here to manage and protect the cabin and the surroundings in our absence. As always, my room and the training hall will remain off-limits."

*Charak Samhita - is a Sanskrit text on Ayurveda (Indian traditional medicine)

*Ghungroo - small metal bells, mostly made of brass, strung together to form a musical anklet

*Dharamshala - a building devoted to religious or charitable purposes, especially a rest house for travellers