Shivapriya’S Dance: A Girl’S Odyssey of Faith

By Krishmatie Ridgeway

Shivapriya was just a child when thugs murdered her parents on the outskirts of their town in Kashmir. From that moment, she was raised by her grandfather, her Dada-ji, in an ashram deep in the Himalaya Mountains of Northern India. Its mostly an idyllic life until their security is threatened by forces from outside their peaceful valley.

Just as Shivapriya grows to love Gopi, the man she became betrothed to as a youngster, and they plan a wedding, Gopi dies from injuries suffered in a mysterious accident. Dada-ji determines that Shivapriyas life is also in peril. He arranges for her to travel undetected to New York where he hopes she can begin life anew. But, New York and her adopted family bring their own challenges which test her faith instilled in her by her grandfather years before.

A work of cultural heritage fiction, Shivapriyas Dance follows a young girl as she leaves her birth home of India and is forced to survive alone on the cruel streets of the Bronx.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491744895

Krishmatie Ridgeway

Krishmatie Ridgeway earned a bachelor’s degree in cultural anthropology and a master’s degree in Education. She has published two books and nine articles on education. This is her first novel.

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SHIVAPRIYA’S

DANCE

A Girls Odyssey of Faith

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Krishmatie Ridgeway

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Copyright © 2014 Krishmatie RidgewayKrishmatie Ridgeway.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-4490-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-4489-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014916698

iUniverse rev. date: 9/23/2014

Contents

Situs

Chapter 1   Gopi

Chapter 2   Flight

Chapter 3   The Bronx

Chapter 4   Fred

Chapter 5   Cat

Chapter 6   Drama

Chapter 7   Yagna

Chapter 8   Tale

Chapter 9   Healing

Chapter 10   Tricks

Chapter 11   Mr. M

Chapter 12   Escape

Chapter 13   Search

Chapter 14   Reflections

Chapter 15   Parents

Chapter 16   Calcutta

Chapter 17   Green

Situs

DEEP IN THE HIMALAYA Mountains of Northern India, near the source of the Indus, lies a lush and beautiful valley that is unknown to most of the world. It is a place that is rarely touched by the snows, a place of warm, almost tropical breezes and abundant lakes, streams, and waterfalls. And there are all kinds of fruit trees—coconuts, mangoes, and bananas—that grow so profusely that in some places they are like a jungle. There are no paved roads that come here, only mountain trails and dirt roads. On all sides the valley is surrounded by walls of sheer, snow-capped mountains—the highest mountains on earth. And the mountains go on and on for hundreds of miles in all directions far beyond what the eye can see.

On the Western side of the valley nestled in the foot hills of the mountain is a commune of small huts made from straw and the leaves of palm trees and surrounded by rice paddies and many fruit trees. This is the home of two hundred holy men who have come here to live a simple life of farming, meditation and prayer. And in the center of the valley, about a mile away is a huge palace made of pink and orange sandstone. Originally built for the royal family of Kashmir, it is a vast structure four stories high with domes on the roof and many secret passages hidden behind the bookshelves and statues. It was here that I spent my early childhood and where my first memories are from.

I was a very young girl living in an ashram with my grandfather whom I called Dada-ji which is a respectful title in Hindi. As a holy man other people called him Gurudeva Brihaspati which means spiritual teacher. He was the spiritual leader for the holy men who were called devotees and who spent most of their time in prayer. The high mountains made it difficult for many people to visit this sanctuary and every one enjoyed a sense of security behind them. Although no childhood is devoid of adventures, some happy, others not so much so; my story really begins when that security began to be threatened by forces from outside our peaceful valley. As so often happens in life those destructive elements were clothed in a happy or even joyful appearance such that no person there recognized their real character until it was too late to stop them.

Chapter One

Gopi

MY GRANDFATHER HAD BEEN teaching a university graduate course in Calcutta and had returned at the end of the term in great high spirits. One of his students, having asked him about our mountain retreat and been told how beautiful it was, had asked if she could be married here. No one had probably been married at the ashram since before reorganization and Dada-ji thought it a fine way to develop some community spirit between the devotees and the village people. He thought that if the village people saw how austere the way of life was for the devotees that it would balance their misconception that the ashram was a palace containing great wealth which was being withheld from them. Consequently the whole village was invited. Zuni, a long time childhood friend from a nearby village, told me how many of the poorest families had dug down in their old trunks and brought out festive clothing that had not seen the light of day for decades. Some things you will starve before you will agree to sell. Other people had started sewing and embroidering and so there was an increased sale of colored thread in the market place. Party fever had taken over the whole village.

The girl’s name was Radha and her husband-to-be was also a student who had already completed his degree in medicine and was happily going to be able to select from among five different medical hospitals in India. They had met two years before when she was having trouble in her biology class and her professor arranged for her to be tutored. He was her tutor. It sounded like the perfect romance, for both parents approved of the match, which in India is a rare thing. Most marriages are arranged between the parents and the happy couple meets for the first time at the pre-engagement ceremony. But Jayani had known that there would be some resistance to a match between a Hindu girl and a Muslim boy, so he engineered a ‘chance’ meeting of his and her parents. He was not depending on blind faith for he had discovered that both fathers had studied at Cambridge University in England and since their accenting had remained, he knew that it would be only a matter of seconds before each recognized that in the other. He was right. The women, each having married into the same education, were honor bound to find common ground, which they did in gardening.

Jayani came down to the ashram to help with the arrangements two weeks before the wedding. He had a face that looked as if it had been chiseled out of stone. He was unbelievably handsome. But he was also charming and funny and I could see why Radha had opened her heart to him. He was also very efficient for he had everything under control right from the start. Dada-ji was full of admiration and made no secret of how he felt. The only time I ever saw Jayani at a loss was when Dada-ji praised him. He couldn’t handle it. I suspect it gave Dada-ji some subtle pleasure to needle him with praise just because he was so unflappable about everything else. But it was all in good fun and Jayani made himself right at home and this seemed to please Dada-ji greatly.

When the village heard who the groom was going to be their interest increased and small groups of volunteers often walked up the path to offer assistance, but with the real purpose of seeing this curiosity; one of theirs, who was marrying one of ours. I guess all of us, but especially Dada-ji, scrutinized these visits very carefully to see if there was any hint of antagonism and were relieved that we could detect none.

Three days before the event, for it was fully accredited as an event by now, Radha arrived. Some of the older women of the village immediately stole her away for some secret ceremonies and initiations that they deemed necessary for a Hindu girl to undergo before entering a new Muslim household. Radha had agreed that their children should be raised as Muslims but that she would keep a Hindu alter in the house and be married in a Hindu ceremony. Since neither felt the choice of religion to be that critical, but that some religion was necessary, they had made these decisions more to establish peace between their families than as binding contracts for themselves.

By noon of the second day Dada-ji decided that the brainwashing was ended and dispatched Baldram to the village to get her. When I first saw her I thought that they had indeed given her a different self. She bounced into the kitchen where Dada-ji and I were preparing wedding foods, and bubbled with enthusiasm, a demeanor in marked contrast to the shy and humble student that Dada-ji had described for us.

Oh, don’t worry you two, she giggled at our serious faces. They were wonderful! I’ve never had such a wild day in my life.

Wild? Dada-ji and I asked in unison. This didn’t fit our image of the elderly women and especially not our village women.

Oh, I thought they would all be stuffed shirts too. But they’re not. Under those dark colored shawls lurk some very funny women. I didn’t need to be taught what to do with my husband, but I would not have missed last night for anything in the world, most especially when they found out how little they actually had to ‘teach’ me. They went crazy and so did I. No. You needn’t even ask, for I swore I would never tell what happened to a living soul…except my own daughter. I got them to agree to that only.

Dada-ji and I stared at her in amazement and could think of nothing to say until finally he said, This wedding is your thing, so roll up your sleeves and help us out. She did and we three rolled and strained and molded and stuffed and basted and cooled all afternoon. She and I seemed to just click in spite of our age difference.

Later that evening Dada-ji and I walked down to the waterfall and left the couple some time alone. As we walked I became aware that he was thinking about something and I asked him what it was. At first I thought he was going to challenge me, ‘How do you know that I have something in mind?’ which I fully deserved, but he didn’t. He just kept walking. I waited. If something was to come, then if I waited, it would come.

You know this wedding has got me thinking. I’m the only family you have got left. If something should happen to me I cannot imagine what might happen to you. There ought to be a place for you besides the ashram. You do know that the ashram will always be here and that no matter what, you can always come and live here. But you are getting older and you are a beautiful young woman. I think you should get married.

You mean, a double wedding with Radha? Oh, I’d love that.

No. I had not thought to do that. But I do think it should be soon.

I of course already knew who I was to be married to and had known for many years. But I had not seen Gopi, who was the son of one of my grandfather’s closest friends and business partners, for many years. He had definitely not been in my thoughts as a future husband, even though I knew that we had been betrothed when we were both very young. Now the consciousness of me as a woman flooded in to my head. As he said, I had begun to develop a womanly shape. I had been able to talk with Radha without sounding like a child even once. Maybe I was ready. I looked at my grandfather.

So, I will never fall in love like Radha?

No. Not like her. But you must understand that falling in love is not the only way to be in love. I loved your grandmother for nearly forty two years. Nobody could have had a stronger love. Yet I had not even seen her before our wedding day. We created our own love and better stuff you cannot find. Of course you have to want to create it. Nothing grows in a vacuum.

Then shall I have to go and live with him now?

Do you want to?

No. No. Please not for a while, please. The thought of not living at the ashram terrified me. For my entire orphan hood, I had known only the devotees and this old man. Although I grew up without having parents, still in my life, I had never been alone. Life with a strange boy sounded like living alone.

If that is what you want!

He sounded so stern it made me start, but I shot back,

Yes. That is what I want! And then something told me that I had been fooled. Oh! Sometimes you are such a nasty old man!

He threw his hands up in surrender, laughing a large round self satisfied laugh.

I just wanted to know if you really liked it here. Now, you can’t blame me for that, can you?

Yes, I can. You knew that my guard would be down and you know very well how I like living here.

And that will be your first lesson in how to create that love I spoke about earlier. Don’t assume just because a person knows something, like that you love them that you don’t need to tell them. In a marriage you need to do that a whole lot. And don’t wait until it becomes necessary. Then it is too late. Some things can’t be overdone. Saying you love someone is one of them.

My grandfather is like an eel. You can bet it will wriggle but you never know in which direction. Any casual comment could lead to an adventure.

But I am serious about getting you married. This should happen soon, maybe within a month. As you know life in India has become much more dangerous, especially for activist type people like me. One advantage for us will be that, if you are in another family, you are much less likely to be a target. You see, some people may try to hurt me by hurting you. I can be much stronger if they cannot easily do that.

I could think of no good reason to resist his plan, but I did insist that if I was to marry this boy, then I wanted a chance to get to know him while I still had Dada-ji around to help me, if I should need him and I felt sure that I would. He asked if I didn’t want to try it as he did and I said that today it is different. I did know who my future husband was going to be and we could meet beforehand. He agreed as we walked back up the hill to the ashram to disturb the lovers again.

As we approached the ashram we heard many excited voices all speaking at once. Both sets of parents had arrived together with what seemed like about a hundred other relatives. The mood was joyous and Dada-ji and I hurried up the rest of the way to join in.

The wedding day went like clockwork, well almost. The ashram became the bride’s house and the leader of the village had given his house to be the groom’s. The decorations appeared as if by magic and the villagers wore grins too wide for their faces because of them. The donkey had to do double service, since there were no elephants in our valley, for the first part of the groom’s journey. Half way up the hill to the ashram Jayani dismounted. The villagers then frantically changed the donkey’s costume, changing him from an elephant to a donkey. Then true to form he stopped acting like his first costume and became the classic donkey and would not budge. The villagers took this as a personal affront and were ready to sacrifice the poor animal there on the spot. Jayani, meanwhile, had all he could do not to fall off its back, he was laughing so hard. The villagers drew to one side of the road to discuss what could be done with the animal. One person went to the village, now nearly a mile away, to get some fodder and a replacement donkey. The animal stood like a cartoon of himself with feet wide apart. Then without warning he started to trot up the hill.

When the groom came into sight of the ashram he was trotting at a good clip with the villagers in hot pursuit some hundred paces behind, screaming in hoarse whispers for him to stop. The donkey of course paid them as little mind as it had for the last twenty minutes and headed straight for the main hall, where the wedding was in final preparation. Baldram became the hero of the day by stepping into the path of the speeding pair and bringing them both to a halt with one quick movement of his hand across the donkey’s face. When questioned later how he did that, he only said that he had ‘acquired some experience with animals’ before he went into service. This last he said with a little nod in Dada-ji’s direction. I decided that I would have to explore that point further.

The wedding was very beautiful and lasted more than three hours. Dada-ji left nothing out and cut no corners. There was even an opportunity for Dada-ji and I to sing a duet together, which had the effect of waking some of the family up from the sort of drowsiness that will attack even the hardiest of souls in so long a ceremony. After, the bride’s women took her into seclusion and Jayani was taken off by the men of his family. Everybody else began to party. Whenever the party seemed to slow down, some of the villagers would breath life back into it again and so it went for nearly a week.

I really didn’t know how to party as the villagers did. I could not talk and drink and eat all day. So on the second day I looked for Zuni and found her not at the ashram but at her mother’s bed side, for she had taken a turn for the worse. The medicine that Dada-ji had sent to her seemed not to be working as it had before. We ran back to Dada-ji and he in turn sent to Srinagar for a specialist to be quickly sent to treat her. The specialist thought that home treatment would be impossible and he took her back to his hospital. Her older daughter went too, for companionship and to try to calm her fears while undergoing treatment. Thereafter, Zuni lived at the ashram, joining what had now become a group of about ten children, who for one reason or another, could no longer live in the village. Dada-ji had not planned the ashram to serve as an orphanage, but after becoming aware of the needs of the children and how they were not being met, he had no choice. The older children cared for the younger and the staff cared for them all. Zuni was so anxious about her mother that Dada-ji allowed her to call the hospital two or three times a week. Sometimes she could speak to her mother. At other times she was too weak and Zuni got the news from her sister. One piece of news that she got was that there was a young man who had caught her eye. So in addition to health reports there were also up dates on her romance with a very charming city boy.

Finally the bride and groom were reunited and started to load up the brand new Daimler that Jayani’s father had secretly brought into the valley three weeks before and hidden at the ashram. I had never seen so sleek a car and its engine made a sound like a tiger in the jungle. They had decided to drive to Jammu where Jayani had family and where they had agreed to hold another ceremony. Everyone came out to see them off and the family guests soon disappeared also. The villagers looked relieved to be able to return to their homes and to their normal daily routines. The holy men returned from the falls, which had served as their ashram while theirs was being otherwise used. I recognized that all the excitement had drained me of energy and I also looked forward to the return of rhythm. As I came into the dining room to join Dada-ji for diner, there sat Gopi.

I think my surprise matched his for he stared at me as I did him. He had changed so much. I remembered a tall spindle legged scarecrow of a boy who always made me laugh with his clumsiness. But the young man before me rose gracefully to his feet and flashed an engaging smile at me as I entered. He knew he was charming.

When he saw me, he came over and apologized for not giving me notice of his coming. He then presented me with a gift of a beautiful silk sari. He then led me to my place and said that his being there did not mean that I had to entertain him or do anything I didn’t absolutely want to do. It was the right thing to say, for after my initial arrest, my first impulse upon seeing him was to turn on my heel and run. ‘How dare he come and hide in the enormous crowd of villagers and spy on me without my knowing!’ I thought. But these thoughts shrank in front of his gentle manner and his imploring and soulful eyes. I melted and smiled and let him lead me to my seat. I glanced at Dada-ji and very nearly didn’t sit down. He had been coached! Never mind, so I lost this round. Now I would be more aware. And now I had two bones to pick with my darling grandfather!

Gopi did not get all his charm from Dada-ji as he proved in the next few days. But I had determined to resist him, in part to pay back Dada-ji for what I considered his betrayal, although as the days passed I could find no reason to continue my resistance, but I did anyhow and decided that I didn’t need a reason. I had been deceived! I began by being hard to find. There were many places to get one’s self lost in the ashram and I knew most of them. Behind some statues I had discovered secret passageways to other rooms. I gloried in walking calmly into a room, with him I knew, only a short distance behind me. Then, in a flash I would be gone. He would call my name and wander about in consternation. Maybe he really thought something evil had happened to me. Maybe he was just frightened at being lost himself. I didn’t care. When I did see him I waited for him to apologize for the right thing; making me the object of a conspiracy. When he failed, as he did for two whole days, I would punctuate it with a slammed door or a tipped over chair or table. Of course it was childish and self indulgent, but I did not want to be taken for granted or planned against by anyone, even my grandfather and especially my future husband.

He finally figured it out and left a bunch of flowers at the altar of Shiva with a note promising never to plan anything without me. I relented and stopped disappearing. It was now up to him, and even if Dada-ji had put him up to all that followed he would still have to do it on his own. I saw no need to make it easy.

He kept me as his constant companion and yet he didn’t shadow my every move. He meditated and did devotional service and spoke to the devotees when I did, but not in the same conversation. He encouraged me to talk about myself and seemed surprised by nothing I said. He adored nature as I did and was able to identify many more plants than could I. When I asked about his studies and his life with his father he was free but not a monologist. If I wanted to know more I had to ask. I was beginning to wonder if he was too good to be true. So I wanted to look for a way to test him. I began by asking him about the political work of his father.

You know what kinds of things your grandfather does, don’t you? I pretended that I did not with my silence and he continued. Well, he and my father are partners. They each have a lot of money and sometimes they will purchase food or other items at a competitive price that is meant to be an inside deal that would involve higher profits than is allowed by law. They then negotiate with honest businessmen for its distribution at a lower price in areas of great poverty. This of course makes a lot of people angry. Your grandfather is the visible one in all this. I don’t think anyone except you and he knows about my family’s involvement. That is why he has agreed to our marriage. You will have my name and should someone try to hurt him, they will not be able to do it through you.

He was beautiful! Could anyone say it so well and be false in any part of his being? I found myself being drawn to him, whether I wanted to or not. What about my ‘resistance’? I decided that this felt too good, so I gave it up.

The next few weeks Gopi and I did everything together and enjoyed every second. We talked about our growing feelings and found that they were mutual. He had not touched me in all this time except by accident when standing beside me. The closest I wanted him to myself was in my eyesight. I don’t know if he could read my wishes, but he certainly followed them. When we sat together we were face to face. I began to suspect that I should feel some desire for intimacy of some kind with him, but I felt none.

I brought the question of intimacy up with Dada-ji because I wanted nothing to go wrong and I felt