“Who is this girl, Raghav?” the tall, grand woman standing right in front of me demanded.

“She can’t go back home tonight, mother. She needs a place to sleep,” he pleaded.

“I asked you who she is Raghav. Not what she wants.” Raghav’s mother was a tall woman, with a beautiful perfect face that looked like it was sculpted out of porcelain, her skin fair and lovely and protected by the sun’s rays from a wide brimmed hat on her head.

“Her name is Melga. She lives in a nearby village and her parents grow dates,” Raghav gulped, refusing to meet his mother’s eyes. Even I was having trouble looking up into her divine face with its intimidating perfection. There was something about her, something so model-ish and exquisite that she just made you feel so small and insignificant. And completely in her power. Not an ounce of your body would be prepared to defy that lovely face.

“I see,” she nodded, eyeing me up and down. I squirmed under her concentrated, penetrating gaze, hoping she wouldn’t just wriggle out the entire truth just like that, when she finally looked away. “And why can’t she go back home? What’s wrong?”

“Umm,” I began, giving sidelong glances to Raghav. Behind me, the sun was dipping low over the horizon. Silhouettes of some of the people of the village coming home after their day’s activities were visible against the brilliant orange ball that hovered just above the glittering sand dunes. The sky behind them was a brilliant medley of yellow, orange, pink and purple, sending out light dispersed into its various hues throughout the desert. The people around us in the village were packing up to go to sleep. A few were covering up with shawls, jackets and blankets as the temperature started to drop. As a woman carrying a basket on her head made her way past us to go home, passing the front of Raghav’s house, I could see her eyes hovering on me.

In such a closely knit community of such a small village, I stuck out like a sore thumb. Even if my face went unnoticed, my attire was quite differ from the traditional clothes of the region. I did not belong there, and everyone was making sure I knew it.

“Her village is quite far away and her parent’s went to Jaipur for some important business. She can’t travel back now, it’s already night,” Raghav came to the rescue again.

“Is it? Well, we can’t refuse her shelter tonight, and yet I do not know how log she is planning to stay. We can’t afford feeding an extra mouth for too long,” his mom finally said. I could feel my heart fluttering, I had been granted shelter for the night. These people cared that a little girl might go without a roof, and were willing to provide it.

She turned to me, her icy demeanour melting to reveal warm eyes and a dashing smile. She handed me a shawl. “Come in dear. You’ll catch a cold if you stay outside much longer. I’ll get you some warm food.”

I wrapped the shawl around myself, grateful for the warmth it provided. It was white with many vivid colours of thread embroidered onto it to make various designs and figures. I grabbed the woman’s hand, which was slightly blistered and rough from working hard, but it he’d mine with such a firmness that reassured me that I was in a safe place.

A while later I was sitting on the a mat that covered the ground with raghav and Meena by my side. The floor was mostly rough cement, with patches of soil in a few places. An aroma of hot oil and food made its way to us from the adjoining kitchen. I breathed in the delicious scent, my mouth watering in anticipation.

“She’s not my actual mother, you know,” Raghav whispered to me from my left.

“Yeah. Our mom disappeared eight years ago,” came Meena’s voice from the right.

“Right after Meena was born. I don’t know why or where, or if she is even alive right now. I have only a few memories, and her face has become foggy with the millions of others in my head.”

“My dad was very surprised when she left. They both loved each other very much, but she just left one day and he was very devastated,” explained Meena.

“He didn’t want to marry again, but our grandparents didn’t want him to remain a widower. They found Fahida and got them married,” Raghav motioned to his mother, or rather his step-mother.

“She’s not bad, you know. I was very scared she was going to cast us aside, but she treats us as her own children since she can’t have any children of our own.”

“Our dad made us promise never to go looking for our real mother. He said it wouldn’t be a good idea, and it would definitely be dangerous. And besides, we are living as a happy family here with Fahida.”

“Or so he thinks,” snorted Meena. “I have never met her, and I don’t hate Fahida, but I still want to know where I actually came from.”

“Hey kids! Can one of you bring me my slippers? And did the newspaper come today? What’s cooking?” A huge man stepped into the room, dressed in a loose white tank top and checked shorts. His rotund belly stuck out like a pillow and a thick moustache covered his upper lip. His black hair was dotted in between with a few white and red hairs, and his dark skin was covered in sweat.

“He works in the metal workshops all day long,” Meena whispered to me.

“He is really tired by the end of the day. Don’t worry if he shouts at you,” Raghav got up to fetch the slippers and the newspaper. 

The giant man settled down on a mat in front of them and yelled to the kitchen. “Fahida! When’s the food coming?” Then he finally looked in front of him. I hadn’t released that I was staring at him, and when he caught my eye, he yelped and jumped up. He kept a hand of the ground and stared back at me, his eyes wide. “Who the hell are you?”

I wanted to smile to show that I meant no harm, but it came out as a weird twisting of my mouth and I think both of became even more scared of each other. “Good evening sir, I’m Melga.”

He was still leaning far away from me, and I could see he did not like to have random strangers sitting in his house. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Raghav decided to continue with the story we had told Fahida. “She’s from a nearby village. She’s my friend and she can’t make it back home. Her parents went to Jaipur and we decided to let her stay for the night,” he explained it all in two seconds.

His father slowly nodded, switching his gaze between him and me, and then finally settled back into his normal position. The fear was definitely gone from his black eyes, as well as the shock, but he was still wary of me. And yet, to him, I was just a twelve year old girl, because that was how old I looked around there. It wan’t like I could do him much harm.

Fahida brought in bowls of steaming hot lentils with a pile of deep fried Indian flatbread, and the five hungry souls dug in.

The next morning I really hoped that the lockdown of the dwarf city had ceased and they had opened up the entryways again. After both the adults had left the house for their various tasks early in the morning, and the siblings had finished their morning chores and bath, we finally set off.

“What are you going to do if you are locked off forever from your home?” Raghav asked to me as our feet crunched on the sand.

That had been the only question in my ming when I had tried to sleep of the extra cot last night in the house, and had been unable to find an answer. “I don’t know,” I answered frankly. “They can’t keep me locked away forever.”

“I think it’s already opened,” said Meena, pointing in front of her. Puzzled, I squinted to follow the line of her finger through the sunlight, and then I saw it. There was a dwarf, jumping and waving and shouting. “Melga!” I heard. But who? We trudged forward as the short figure came running toward us, and finally stopped in front of us, panting and his hands on his knees. It was Roney. “I was so worried!”