Jayā

Jayā was born at the end of 1085 in a hamlet on the low fields of the middle Ganga plain, where officials came to measure dues and where the river’s floodwater could remake paths between one season and the next. Her family kept a small plot under tenancy. Her father was already gone, so her mother Dhanī carried headship herself, leaning on her brother Vīrū when collectors’ assistants like Kālu came calling. Dhanī’s mother Rāmū lived nearby and came often—bringing herbs, taking Jayā into her lap while Dhanī worked in the fields, and telling stories about river spirits and the gods.

Dhanī rose before light to sweep the yard, smear the hearth, and set a pinch of rice and a dab of ghee before a small clay image near the wall. On some mornings she added a marigold and water for Durgā, asking for children who would live. Jayā hovered close, asking what each offering meant and why the priest Deva Miśra rang his bell three times instead of four. She talked over adults, then snapped at other children when they laughed at her questions or took her bit of roasted gram. Harī once pushed her away from a game; she kicked dust at his feet and screamed until an older girl dragged her aside.

A sister, Gaurī, was born in 1087 and died within days. By the next year Jayā’s belly often sat swollen above thin legs. She complained of cramps, ate a little, then begged for sweets again. Dhanī boiled bitter leaves and pressed her to drink; Rāmū came with herb mixtures and sat with her granddaughter while the mother worked. Jayā forgot instructions and dropped grain she was meant to carry, then cried hard when scolded. A baby boy, Nanda, was born in 1089 and died the same year.

During the monsoon of 1090, Jayā followed Dhanī and the neighbor Śobhā to the pond where they rinsed rice. She slid on the slick bank and went under; Śobhā hauled her up by the arm. Jayā coughed and shook for days afterward, feverish and short of breath, refusing to go near water. In 1091 another sister, Sītā, was born and died soon after.

In early 1092 the fever season returned. Jayā was carried inside, sweating and shivering. Dhanī fed her sips of water and prayed at the hearth; Rāmū sat beside them through the nights. Jayā died on February 18. Her body was taken to the burning place near the river, where Dhanī, Rāmū, and Vīrū placed rice and sesame before the pyre was lit.