Sita Of the Hills

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 750, 24 August 1929, Page 33

Sita Of the Hills

The Story Of a Little Indian Girl

Little Sita sat in the garden under- ; neath. the tamarind tree and sang ! softly to herself. She had filled her i lap with jessamine flowers and as she | sang her slim little fingers gradually wove the blossoms into a wreath, j She had walked from the village ! that morning with her mother who had | been engaged to cook and wash for the j English family who had come to live in the bungalow for a few weeks. It was quite an event for visitors to arrive in this little village of the hillside. Sita had learned from her mother that the Sahib had brought his little daughter and the little Hindu girl was very interested. She wanted so much to see what this vis 1 tor from Bombay would be like. She had lagged her mother to bring her to-day, and now she was sitting patiently waiting, hoping that the little daughter of the Sahib would soon come into the garden. Inside the bungalow Jessamine sat up in her bed and listened. She wondered who it could be singing outside so early in the morning. Presently she wriggled herself free from the bed coverings and slipped on to the floor,.very quietly, because she did not wish to disturb her mother in the adjoining room. She tip-toed across to the window and looked out. Then she and Sita saw each other. The little Hindu girl stopped singing and shyly held out the wreath of jessamine flowers. From her mother she had learned that the daughter of the Sahib bore the same name as the flowers that Sita loved. In a very few moments Jessamine came into the garden and it did not take long for the two children to make friends. Jessamine had lived in India all her life, so it was not difficult for them to carry on a conversation. They asked each other many questions. “Have you any brothers?’* Sita asked. Jessamine answered that she had, but that they were at school in England. “That must make you sad/* said Sita, “not to see your brothers. Every evening my brother returns to the home of my mother when he comes down from the pasture. All day he helps my father to tend the goats and the sheep upon the hillside while 1 help my mother grind the flour and fetch water so that there is food for them when they return.” “Do you still live in the house of your mother?” Sita went on to ask.

, “Of course,'* Jessamine replied, j “Then you also are happy like me." was the reply. “Some day I mint go to sasar, and then it will be different. In maher I play when I wish, but when I live with Sasubia then must 1 work all the time.” Sita’s dark eyes clouded over for a moment and then she smiled again as she added: “But my brother will come to visit me and sometimes he will bring me back to see my mother. He has promised.” Jessamine was a little puzzled, but she resolved to ask her mother what Sita meant. Perhaps sasar is another name for school, she thought. “How long your hair is,” she said, touching the other child’s dark silky plaits. Sita looked at Jessamine's fluffy, golden bob. “Yours is funny,” she said, “but it is very pretty. It is the colour of the ripe corn.” Then she ad led, “But you have no mahervat.” pointing to the parting on the right side of her head. Later in the day Jessamine asked her mother to explain what Sita had meant when she spoke of going to sasar. “Did she mean that she was going to school?” Tfiked. "No, dear,’* her mother had answered. “Sita was talking of the time when sh > would have to go and live with her mother-in-law. Little Hindu girls are married very young, pnd then most of their playtime ends. I am t..ry to say that the word, ‘Sasubia,’ which means mother-in-law, is generally connected with very hard work and very little kindness. “The old home is called maher (mother-house). When little girls part their hair on the right side, the. crT it maher vat. Vat means way, an I so you see the right way is the way that leads toward home.” After this Sita used to come every morning with her mother and th two children became great friends. Sometimes they would each play with their dolls. Sita taught Jessamine some lullaby verses which she had learned from her mother, beginning: Sleep, sleep my sandalwood babe, sleep sleep! Thy mother has gone to the carpenter’s lane. When at last it was time for Jessamine to return to Bombay, Sita whispered, “Before you came I wished for a sister many, many times. Now I have adopted you. I shall .ng many songs about you.”