Nandini Bajpai - Starcursed

Nandini Bajpai grew up in New Delhi, one of four sisters and many cousins, in a family that liked to read. Although she has dabbled in corporate finance, business analysis, and fostering shelter animals, her first love is writing. Her novel Red Turban, White Horse: My Sisters Hurricane Wedding was published in 2013 by Scholastic, India. She lives in the Boston area with her husband, kids, their dog Yogi and cat Rakhan.

Published in Red Turtle by

Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd. 2013

7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj

New Delhi 110002

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Copyright Nandini Bajpai 2013

This is a work of fiction. All situations, incidents, dialogue and characters, with the exception of some well-known historical and public figures mentioned in this novel, are products of the authors imagination and are not to be construed as real. They are not intended to depict actual events or people or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

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This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, without the publishers prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

For this book's

first teenage reader:

Ayesha Chauhan

1994-2011

You are and will always be

loved, missed and remembered.

The twelfth century in India was a turbulent time. The fragmented kingdoms of North India waged war on each other and also faced the threat of invasion from Muhammad of Ghor. In the middle of this upheaval, an Indian mathematician of the period, Bhaskara Acharya, wrote a path-breaking book on astronomySiddhanta Shiromani or, The Crest Jewel of Astronomy. It contained four partsLeelavati, Bijaganita, Grahaganita and Goladhyayawhich deal with arithmetic, algebra, the mathematics of the planets and the mathematics of the sphere. Interestingly, he chose to name the section on arithmetic Leelavatia womans name that means beautiful or playful in Sanskrit.

Not only did Bhaskara Acharya name it so, he also addressed some of the problems in that section directly to someone of that name. Other verses in the book were addressed to auspicious woman, intelligent girl, pretty girl with tremulous eyes and so on. But there is no indication anywhere in the text about her identity.

Leelavati became a standard textbook on mathematics and was widely studied, commented on and translated. In a sixteenth century Persian translation of the text, commissioned by the Mughal emperor Akbar and carried out by his poet laureate, Faizi, there is a story about who Leelavati may have been.

Quoting other sources, the book tells this story:

Leelavati was the daughter of Bhaskara the teacher. She was born under an unlucky star and could not marry. But Bhaskara calculated a rare, auspicious moment when she could wed. Everything was made ready and a water clock set up to tell the exact time when the wedding should take place. But Leelavati, being curious, leant over the clock to see how it functioned. As she did so, a jewel fell from her hair into the clock, blocking it. The clock did not tell the time correctly, the auspicious time passed without anyone knowing and Leelavati could never wed.

It is impossible to tell if this legend is true. According to some people, Leelavati was Bhaskara Acharyas wife, not his daughter, or even a fanciful invention to make the verses of Leelavati more poetic. But the characterwho shares her name with my grandmotherhas always fascinated me. As I read the verses of Leelavati, I could just picture a young girlclever and beautiful, encouraged to study by her father, one of the best minds of his age. But a girl cursed by fate, who decides to follow her heart and try and make her own luck. This is her story.

Dear intelligent Leelavati, if you are skilled in addition and subtraction, tell me the sum of two, five, thirty-two, a hundred and ninety-three, eighteen, ten and a hundred, added together; and the remainder, when their sum is subtracted from ten thousand.

VERSE 13, LEELAVATI,

BHASKARA THE TEACHER

WAS BORN UNDER AN EVIL STAR.

Baba knew that dark forces shadowed the moment, for no one read the stars as well as he did. He kept it from me for many years, but I sensed it. A secret sorrow clouded my mothers eyes when they rested on mea secret never mentioned, yet ever-present. One that won me the freedoms denied to other girls, as if in compensation for the misery that lay in my future.

Why else did Baba let me study with him at the observatory, even though it set tongues wagging, even though it made the scholars grumble and sulk? No, when I learned that Mangal ruled my star chart, I wasnt surprised.

Ive studied the portent in Babas books. Anyone I marry is doomed to an early deathreason enough for my single state at the advanced age of fifteen. Only a doddering old man at deaths door would now consider taking my hand.

Baba, being Baba, is certain he can calculate an auspicious time when Mangal is weak, and still give me a chance at happiness. No one knows the stars better than him its true, but I have no faith it can be done. Still, I pretend to believe it for his sake.

There are some advantages of being unmarriageable. If you have a liking for mathematics, you neednt suppress it. If you loathe cooking, you neednt cultivate it. And, above all, you neednt worry about leaving your mothers house for a strangers.

So, it wasnt the news of my fate that astonished me.

It was the face that flashed before my eyes the moment I was told of my prospects, or lack thereof.

I hadnt seen Rahul Nagarseth in two years, ever since he sailed away with his fathers trading fleet, yet I remembered him well.

The first time we met I was ten, he a year older, and new to Babas class in Ujjayani. I had always taken pride in being the first to finish the tasks Baba set us, but right away, Rahul had been quicker than I. And he had stared at me wide-eyed as if he had never seen a girl before. There was only one way to deal with it.

What are you looking at? I had demanded, staring back. I was almost his height and so could look him level in the eyes.

Reaching over he had tugged a ringlet that had escaped my braid to dangle over my brow. Then he had smiled and dimples had deepened in his cheeks, catching me by surprise.

Your hair is pretty, he had said, in his funny accent, and run off.