Mahashay Din Dayal lived in a small village near Prayag. He was not a farmer, yet he cultivated land. He was not a landlord, yet he managed a landlord's estate. He was not a police officer, yet he exercised the authority of one. He was the landlord's mukhtar, or agent. The whole village stood in awe of him. He had four peons, a horse, and several cows and buffaloes. His salary was only five rupees, which was not even enough to cover his tobacco expenses. Who knew what other sources of income he had? Jalpa was his daughter. She had once had three brothers, but by this time she was alone. If anyone asked her, “What happened to your brothers?” she would answer very simply, “They went very far away to play.” It was said that the mukhtar sahib had once had a poor man beaten so badly that he died. Within three years, all three boys were gone. After that, the poor man became very cautious. He walked as though placing his feet with great care; having once been burned by milk, he now blew even on buttermilk before drinking it. What other support did the mother and father have in life?
Whenever Din Dayal went to Prayag, he always brought some ornament or another for Jalpa. His practical mind never imagined that Jalpa could be happier with anything else. He considered dolls and toys useless, and so Jalpa played with jewelry instead. These were her toys. The imitation-crystal necklace he had bought from the peddler was now her dearest toy. The desire for a real necklace had not yet arisen in her heart. Whenever there was a festival or celebration in the village, she wore that same necklace. No other ornament appealed to her eyes.
One day Din Dayal returned with a Chandrahār for Manki. Manki had cherished this desire for many years. She was enchanted to receive the necklace.
Jalpa no longer liked her own necklace. She said to her father, “Father, please bring me one just like this.”
Din Dayal smiled and said, “I will bring you one, daughter.”
“When will you bring it?”
“Very soon!”
Jalpa was not satisfied with her father's words. She went to her mother and said, “Mother, have a necklace like yours made for me too.”
Mother: “It will cost a great deal of money, daughter.”
Jalpa: “You had one made for yourself. Why don't you have one made for me?”
Her mother smiled and said, “Your in-laws will send one for you.”
This necklace had cost six hundred rupees. It had not been easy for Din Dayal to save so much money. He was hardly some great official. It had taken years before the opportunity to have such a necklace made had arisen. He doubted that so much money would ever come into his life again.
Jalpa ran away shyly, but these words became engraved upon her heart. Her in-laws were no longer quite so frightening to her. A Chandrahār would come from her in-laws' home, and the people there would love her more than her parents did. Otherwise, why would the thing her parents could not have made for her come from there?
But what if it did not come from her in-laws? Three girls she knew had already been married, and none had received a Chandrahār from their in-laws. What if one did not come from her own in-laws either? She thought, “Then Mother will give me her necklace, won't she? Surely she will.”
In this way, seven years passed in laughter and play. And the day finally arrived when her long-cherished desire was to be fulfilled.