Diwali in the 21st century was no different than in the 13th century. And I reveled in it for the next few days. The preparation of cotton wick, the soothing rough feeling of earthen diyas, and the slippery oil that seemed to get in everywhere.

It reminded me of the times we would visit the malls to buy new clothes. The time we bought firecrackers to be lit up. And the only time of the year, we were allowed to binge eat whatever sweets and snacks we could get our hands on. The colorful twinkling lights that would adorn the railing of our balcony. Some of our neighbors would leave them on even after Diwali and they always gave me company in early morning study sessions.

Celebration of the festival in the monarchy though included different activities, and yet the air still had the same level of joy and excitement. As far as I knew Diwali was a festival of light that took place in the month of November. We got a few days of holiday from school which also served as our study holiday. It held a deeper meaning in this era. It was a festival to celebrate prosperity, family, and love. It was to thank the gods for a good harvest. And rejoice in the little things of life.

The castle had not been spared from the festive spirits. The temple on the compound buzzed with activities. It sat atop a small hillock and was made purely of marble. It was marvelous. an oasis of serenity. It also served as the village temple and as a result the royal family had a small private entrance on the side, while the temple gates opened up to the main village.

The fort was to be lit by over a lakh diyas and tumblers of oil were stocked to fuel them. We had spent an entire afternoon and evening just preparing the wicks. The fragrance of fresh flowers just plucked from the trees filled the air. It took me a few tries but soon enough I learned to make garland. These were to decorate the numerous doors of the castle, hence, yards of them had to be prepared. My fingers felt stiff by the end of the day.

The kitchen was a madhouse of its own story. While I had prepared sweets and snacks with my mother just for the four of us, the head cook and her team cooked up their own storm. Liters of ghee in almost a hundred buckets were prepared. The aroma of ghee prepared from fresh milk made me gain a kilo or two. And then shed them all together and some with the number of times I climbed the stairs. Each day I went to bed exhausted and with the excited chattering of others serving as my lullaby.

Diwali would be incomplete without the presence of family and friends. So, the royal family had taken off to invite the kings and their families from the neighboring kingdom to join our festivities. Though they must have had messengers to send the invites, this family never confirmed to societal expectations.

I had separate plans of my own for the evening.

My dreams of finding a quiet corner at part of the castle that would allow me an unfettered look of the festivities alone were shattered and stomped on. Where I wanted to indulge in a pot of kheer while waiting for the skies to light up with the fireworks, I was dragging my feet behind Isha as we trotted on towards the temple. All my attempts of pouting, denying, and evading fell on deaf ears. I even entertained to last resort of feigning to have my periods to escape the visit. That line of thought only managed to enhance my anxiety as I must have been due anytime soon.

So with a puja thali of a diya and flowers in my hair, I took a step into the temple after who knows how many years. Much to my parent's dismay, I had never been a devout devotee. Sure I would tag along with them but my beliefs lay somewhere more concrete.

And yet I could not deny the calmness that I felt as the chants of the evening aarti filled my ears, the cold feeling of the floor and the familiar smell of camphor. I must be exhausted from a day of work and glad to finally get a moment of respite.

That day itself was not hectic in particular. The tasks of cleaning and decorating were finally over. The main activity of that day was the rangoli we made right at the entrance. Once lit by diyas, it surely would look beautiful.

We had to vacate the kitchens. As the guests belonged to different cultures and had different palettes than ours, special cooks were brought in to prepare the meals.I felt it was rude to not eat food cooked by us. Sure the workload could have increased infinitely if we had to cook for hundreds of people but still it was a sure sign of disrespect. But who could I have offered up my opinion to? The rest of the staff heaved a sigh of relief and took the day to enjoy themselves.

It made me happy to see everyone so excited. Their eyes were lit up the whole day. Isha showed me a beautiful purple ghagra that she was to wear for the evening. She could hardly stop talking about it. The jewelry she would wear, the style her hair would be in. We all had gone to the village for shopping apparently, a month back. I could not remember this visit so I guessed it probably was before I came.

After lunch, it was all about the preparations. This time not for the festival but for themselves. I was only happy to help them. Brushing hair, polishing the shoes, helping them to get dressed, straightening pallus. I was hoping in all these festivities they would overlook the fact that I had not changed out of my clothes. Everyone had their own dresses and accessories set aside and I had no clue about what I was supposed to wear.

But then the elderly woman from my first night here, Nani, beckoned me towards her to ask about my dress. Unaware, I fumbled some response that I needed to get it, but I might not as I was not feeling so well.

Then Isha interrupted us by admonishing me, "You forgot where you put it, did you not? You worked so hard on it, Maitri. How could you forget? Good thing that at least you are aware of your forgetfulness and told me where you kept it. Come with me." The quip about my forgetfulness hit a bit too close to home.

I followed her to a closet at the end of the hallway, that I thought was a room. But it held the most beautiful cream-colored ghaghra choli with intricate white embroidering. The sleeves could reach to my wrist. It almost seemed to shimmer. it looked so elegant, definitely more elegant than anything I ever wore. If such dresses were worn by us I could not even fathom the lengths our visitors would go to.

"Fascinated by your own work, huh?" Isha gave me a sly grin.

"I... made this." Absolutely not. I had never laid my eyes on this dress before.

"Yeah, yeah, boast all you want. Everyone knows you are good. We all are going to be dressed to the nines, all due to your talent." Isha squealed excitedly. And I had yet to process what she was saying.

"I made all these dresses?" She mistook my astonishment for confusion.

"I knew you were a bit quiet after coming back from the village. I thought it was because you were lost in your thoughts. But are you okay? Do you not remember making them?" she asked, concern heavy in her voice. I could not have worried about myself before a fun evening.

"No, no I do remember. Sorry, I, just for a moment, forgot. Come on, I will help you get dressed and then slip into this pretty one, alright?"

Slipping in was a bit of a stretch. I had gained weight in the past few days since I came here and the measures I had apparently taken were a bit too tight. I got lost again in thinking about the person who was in this body before me. It was obvious that she was the one who had made these dresses as well as the trip. I wondered what had happened to her. And will she come back once I go back into my time?

Such unanswered questions could often plague my mind. This would often be followed by a splitting headache and breathlessness. Diverting my mind was the only way to get some relief. I certainly did not understand what was happening but I guessed it was beyond my comprehension. I took things as they happened. I was no closer to figuring out why I was here, not that I actively worked to find out. I was happy here, undoubtedly, but even I knew that I could not let this dream sequence carry on forever.

Finally, after everyone was ready Isha and Nani advanced towards me. Though I had an exquisite dress I did not intend to get dolled up. My recent thoughts about my predicament had left a bad taste in my mouth and I needed space to work it out. I wanted to get ready quietly in the corner and spend the evening in a similar manner. But these two were having none of that and made sure that I was dressed to the nines. They puffed me with enough powder to make me cough, pulling my hair in all directions. At the end of their ministration, I was afraid I would look like the women from the live-action Beauty and the Beast movie.

I stood in front of the mirror to take a final look. I had discovered in my early days here that I looked different. My tall and thin body had been replaced by a short and curvaceous body. My hair had a luscious shine to it and reached to my waist. Physically, I had been changed all over.

Isha had woven my hair into a loose braid with loose locks framing my hair. My long braid fell over my shoulder. The ivory-white dupatta was pinned to the blouse. Jhumkas adorned my ears and the skin exposed by the low cut of the blouse was tastefully covered by a silver oxidized necklace.

As usual, I was stupefied by my appearance. I looked like Beauty herself and was extremely happy with the results. I couldn't stop gushing about my appearance. Running my hand over my cheeks, and pulling the curls of my hair. They soon enough made me stop claiming I would spoil their efforts.

I was happy to praise them. They made me look beautiful. I might not be the belle of the evening but I just loved the way I looked.

Before leaving our chambers, Nani gave us all a piece of advice we agreed unanimously that we would not be abandoning our duties for the evening. We were an integral part of the household and we must ensure that none of our guests left dissatisfied. Though everyone else agreed fervently, I could only admire their loyalty. They still had ethics and morals untainted by the harsh light of reality.

We were told to enter the hall from the kitchen entrance after the announcements introducing the family and guests were made. We could just slip into the crowds, have some food, and enjoy the night.

Author's Corner:

The first time I wrote this chapter was in the month of March. Farthest from any festival. So, some of my longing for the festive season might have bled into the pages. What is your dream attire for any festival?

Please do let me know your thoughts and feelings through your comments. Besides giving me direction, they are really a great boost of motivation.

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If you have hung around till this last sentence, know that you are the best and the writer of this story just wishes you nothing but the best of the best story for your life.