“Don’t eat that fruit, traveler,” the sweet, but aristocratic voice surprised the man in a soldier’s uniform, who was about the pluck a fruit from the tree. It sounded out of place in the deserted, jungle area he was passing through. Out-of-place experiences often signified danger and instinctively his hand went to the hilt of his sword. His surprise did not lessen when he turned around to face the source of the voice. Who was she? A princess in the garb of a commoner? He stood transfixed.

“Relax,” the woman smiled when she noticed his hand on the sword, “I stopped you form eating it because it could be poisonous. If you are not a native, you may not know how to differentiate the domesticated variety from the poisonous, wild ones.”

“Who are you?” the soldier was still not relaxed. But it wasn’t because of any perceived danger. The woman was incredibly beautiful. Thin, pink lips; round, innocent face; big, expressive eyes; that sharp, peacock-like nose; and the long, flowing hair.

“Someone who saved your life,” she said as she went ahead and plucked the fruit the soldier was going to pluck, “This is poisonous.”

“Thank you,” the soldier had gathered some composure by then.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“I am not dying. But something to eat, that won’t kill me, would have been good.”

“Let me see,” she looked around, “”Here! Try this one. This isn’t poisonous.” She plucked another fruit from a nearby tree and offered it to him.

“And how do you know the difference?”

“This jungle is like my home.”

“You look fearless. It can be quite dangerous.”

“You are passing through it as well.”

“I am a soldier. I have my sword, and my training, to protect me.”

“I have my knowledge of the jungle to keep me away from danger. And in the worst case, I can wield my weapons as well,” she deftly pulled out a dagger that was hidden under her dupatta at her waist.

“Wow! You are dangerous,” the soldier was impressed and amused, “I hadn’t noticed that you were armed.” Who could have? Before such beauty and grace! No wonder many wise men professed that women were always the undoing of men. She could have been an assassin in disguise!

“And I know the poisonous fruits from the domesticated ones! In the jungle, I am safer than you are,” she completed her defense.

“You could teach me, then. Distinguishing good fruits from the bad ones.”

“That is not like reading scriptures. I can’t hand you a book to read. This is experience. Doesn’t come in one day.”

“I can come again.”

The woman laughed at his attempts at flirting. “We’ll see. If you are destined to learn, our paths may cross again. Until then, I take your leave.”

—

“What on earth are you doing?” The soldier was racing his horse and barely managed to pull up in time to save the woman from getting trampled, “Why did you come before the horse so suddenly? What were you thinking?”

“I saw you and I thought I should test you.”

“Test me? For what?”

“Whether you are good enough to be my student.”

“Your student?”

“Ah! You forget, Soldier! You had wanted me to teach you the ways of jungle. Well – at least distinguishing a poisonous fruit from a good one.”

“I haven’t forgotten. But how can coming before my galloping horse at the last moment be a test of whether I should be taught the ways of jungle?”

“If you are not good at what you have already been trained for, you can be no good at what you will be taught next.”

“I see. And what is it that I am already trained for?”

“You are a soldier. You ride a fine horse. I believe you are trained in horse-riding.”

“That I am. And I can ride my horse much faster than what you have seen till now. Even in a battlefield.”

“But being a good rider is not about being fast. At least, not only about that. The ability to control the horse quickly is what distinguishes a great rider from a mediocre one!”

An appreciative smile spread on the soldier’s lips. “You are wise,” he said sincerely.

“That I am.”

“So, did I pass your test?”

“Almost.”

“Then will you teach me?”

“Were you coming here for a lesson? Don’t you have any other work?”

“I was exercising my horse.”

“Then continue doing what you were. I have to go back now. It’s getting late.”

“What about my lesson?”

“If you are destined to learn, our paths may cross again. But today I must leave.”

“Where are you going?”

“To my home?”

“You stay in the jungle?”

“No. I stay in the city.”

“Why do you come to the jungle then?”

“The city has no use of my wisdom?”

“That sounds ridiculous. City definitely has more use for wise people.”

“Wise men. Not for wise women. Bye. Until we meet again.”

—

“Accept my greetings,” the woman was the one surprised this time. She hadn’t realized when the soldier came with the horse and unmounted it.

“Good day, Sir.”

“Today is indeed a good day for me.”

“Why?”

“Some problems I was trying to resolve for weeks have finally been resolved. And then I got to meet you.”

She just smiled in reply. Her countenance was sad that day. Not jubilant as usual.

“Shall we start our lesson today?”

“No point starting it now. I won’t be coming here anymore.”

“Why not?”

“My parents have fixed my marriage.”

“That’s great. And aren’t you happy about it?”

“No.”

“Why? Is your finacee not handsome?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care much either.”

“Is he poor? Can’t he look after you?”

“Oh, he is rich. Extremely rich. That is the problem.”

Soldier raised his eyebrows, “Why should that be a problem?”

“He is so rich that he can afford to have multiple wives. He already has three. I will be the fourth one.”

“So? Most rich and noblemen have many wives.”

“You are a man. You won’t understand.”

“Hmm…”

“Not your fault. Even most women don’t understand what my problem is.”

“You want your rich, noble husband all to yourself?” The soldier smiled patronizingly.

“If it’s impossible to have a rich, noble husband to yourself, I can’t live without a rich and noble man for a husband.”

“Yeah? You will marry a villager?”

“I won’t. But not because they are poor.”

“Then?”

“Their mind is base and unrefined. They command no respect.”

“Then? What would you do if you had a choice? Whom would you marry?” The soldier was laughing now.

“Why not a Brahmin?”

“A Brahmin? Over a rich, noble man? Former commands respect. The latter commands respect, and has money for worldly comforts.”

“Swagrihe Pujyate Murkhah Swagrame Pujyate Prabhuh
Swadeshe Pujyate Raja Vidwaan Sarvatra Pujyate.”

(Translation: Even if a man is a fool, he is respected in his home (as the head). A rich, landowner is respected in his village. A king is respected in his kingdom. But a learned man is respected everywhere.)

The woman recited dreamily. It took her a while to come out of her thoughts and realize that the soldier was staring at her in disbelief. Then she realized what she had done. They had been speaking in commoner’s local language till then. But her suddenly spouting a Shloka in Sanskrit clearly gave her away. The soldier knew that she wasn’t an average city dweller. She must be a noblewoman, that too one belonging to the highest echelons of the society, for having been educated that well in Sanskrit. Her pronunciation was perfect. He had already noticed multiple times that her beauty, her grooming and her grace were impeccable. She had no ordinary upbringing.

“Bhadre! Who are you? You adorn a commoner’s garb. But that is just a façade.”

He had questioned her in Sanskrit. That made it clear that he, too, was no ordinary soldier. Must be a nobleman and someone high-up in the chain of administrative command of a kingdom. If he were a commoner, she would have cooked up an alibi that she learned that particular shloka in the accidental company of a noblewoman. But he would be able to see through it and would know that she was lying. So, instead of trying to lie, she decided to appeal to his kindness.

She replied in Sanskrit, “Arya! You could gain nothing from learning about my identity. And obviously I do not know your real identity either. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Why?”

“God is my witness that I have done nothing wrong. But anyone in the society knowing about my little jungle escapades won’t take it kindly.”

“Why do you like the jungle so much?”

“It afforded me the freedom that my society never will. This is the real childhood home that I will have to leave behind and that I will miss. Anyway, this is probably my last escapade. I take your leave and wish you all the best. It was a good day for you. Don’t let it be spoiled on my account.”