Nandini stealthily walked over to her brother who was still at the table, and peeked over his shoulder at the notebook in which he had been doing his English homework.

"Di, why are you checking my book?" Prakash exclaimed virtuously, jumping from his seat while snatching the book up and holding it to his chest.

"I want to see your homework," she said firmly. "Now give me the book."

In response, Prakash scuttled to the couch and jumped on it with his notebook clutched protectively to his chest, and looked defiantly at his sister who was standing with arms crossed a few feet away.

 "I've done it properly, di. You don't have to check it."

"If you've done it properly, then why can't I see it," Nandini enquired sweetly, walking over to him again.

"Because - because -"

But he had remained in the same spot too long, and she swiftly made a grab for the book and was successful in plucking it out of her horror-struck brother's hands.

"Di, don't see it, please," he begged, tagging after her as she walked towards the table to examine his handiwork.

"Okay, then I'll give it to ma, and she can check it," she nodded.

"No, No, don't do that!" he exclaimed and then dejectedly said, "Alright, you can check it. But you wont complain to ma if it's all wrong, will you?"

"When have I ever done that?" she sighed.

"Never," Prakash admitted, and unexpectedly gave her an affectionate peck on the cheek, and ran outside to play. She smiled and strolled towards the table again and looked at the radio placed to one side of it.

An hour ago, strains of music had come out of the radio for the first time in years. She had been lighting the lamp outside, and had come running inside in surprise to see her ecstatic grandfather thumping Prithvi on the back.

"You did it!" she had laughed, clapping her hands.

"Yes, he did it! Excellent job! This day has seen one miracle after the other. And if my radio gets spoilt again, I know where to go," Bhoothnath had beamed.

"If something ever goes wrong with it and if you try to make me fix it again, I will personally smash it and throw each piece in a separate city," Prithvi had said edgily.

Her grandfather had only guffawed merrily. "You can't fool me with your rudeness, boy. I know you would repair it in a thrice. Now you can start working on the television set too."

"I'm not going to do anything of that sort."

"Of course, Of course....you must be tired," grandfather had said benevolently. "You can start repairing it tomorrow." Prithvi snarled a reply, but by then her grandpa had cranked up the volume of the set, and so his nasty response was lost in a decades old song. Then Prithvi had risen to his feet and passed by her to go outside, without acknowledging her.

When she had returned downstairs for the tulsi pooja, after keeping the flower lovingly in a water-filled glass bowl, he had been immersed in his repair work, an ill-tempered expression on his face. She had wanted to thank him, but wasn't sure she could do it without getting tongue-tied and flustered. As it is, she was still coming to terms with the fact that he had actually listened to something she had simply mentioned unthinkingly and had gone to the trouble of getting the flower for her. It was the sweetest thing he could have done....the sweetest thing ever.....

The phone's shrill ring broke through her musing, and she hurried over to answer it.

"Can I speak with Prithvi?" a young woman's voice queried.

"He's just gone outside. But he has his mobile with him; you could try to reach him on that. And if you're not able to reach him on his cell too, you could give me your name, I'll convey your message and ask him to call you," Nandini said courteously.

"My name will not mean anything to him....he doesn't know me," the woman said with a sad sigh. "And I don't know his cell number. Could you give it to me?"

Nandini started to answer, and then paused. She didn't know his number either. "I don't know the number, but could you just hold on for a minute?" she requested, feeling concerned at the anxiety in the woman's tone. "I'm sure it must be in our telephone diary."

When she received a murmured consent, Nandini quickly took the diary from the stand beneath the phone, scanned it rapidly and located the phone number on the seventh page.

"I've found it, please take it down," she said and heard the frantic search for a pen and paper on the other end.

Nandini gave out the number slowly, and then asked, "Should I repeat it?"

"No, its ok, I've taken it down," the woman said, sounding relieved. "May I know your name?"

"I'm Nandini"

"Thank you for your help, Nandini."

"Please don't mention it," Nandini smiled, and after a brief uncertainty, she added, "I'm sure everything will be alright." She wasn't sure what had made her say it, apart from the fact that the lady, whoever she was, had sounded very troubled.

There was surprised silence for some moments. "Thank you, Nandini. I'm really grateful," the woman said softly, and then kept the phone without saying another word.

*************************

Sarojini kept the plates on the table. "Nandini, go and call Prithvi for dinner. He is sitting in Ayodhya. The poor boy hasn't eaten anything since this afternoon. He must be hungry by now."

Nandini tapped at Ayodhya's open doors and peeked inside. Prithvi was sitting on a plush chair, leaning slightly towards the laptop on the centre table and typing speedily.

"Prithvi, dinner is ready." 

"I'll come in some time," he said tersely, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"You need to take your medicines," she said hesitantly. "So you shouldn't be delaying your meals."

He looked up with clear irritation in his eyes. "I'm sending some important mails, so stop nagging me. I'll eat when I want to."

Nandini sighed and began to turn away, and then halted. "There was a call for you today," she said tentatively "a woman....I gave her your mobile number. Did she call you?"

Prithvi looked at her with a furrowed brow. "No. What did she say her name was?"

"She didn't say, but she seemed very upset about something."

"Indian or westerner?"

"Indian, for sure."

"So it can't have been Natasha," he murmured meditatively.

"Natasha? Is she your friend from abroad, when you were studying there," she asked with affectionate interest, and traipsed inside and sat down on the empty chair near him.

Most people Nandini knew loved to speak about their family and friends, and their dreams and hopes. But Prithvi wasn't like the others....he seemed to hate talking about such things. Apart from telling her that Indrajit was his brother, he had never spoken about his family or friends....his silence about the past had extended to them too.

"I lived with her for two years. So I think you can safely say that she is a friend," he said smoothly and continued to type.

Nandini stared at him in pure shock, completely taken aback by the casual statement. "Lived....with her?" she repeated weakly after a minute.

Prithvi typed silently for some more minutes, then finally shut down the laptop, kept it aside and lazily leaned his head back on the headrest and gazed out the window into the starry night, suddenly looking like he was far away mentally. "For two short years....time just sped with only both of us in that house," he reminisced in a tone that abruptly made her feel very cold inside her chest.

"What was she like?" she asked feebly.

 "Golden hair, amazingly blue eyes, and beautiful hands," he drawled indolently.

"I was asking about her nature," she said gloomily, feeling unwell all of a sudden.

"Oh that...well, she is exceptionally intelligent, and very quiet by nature. Never talks pointlessly and when she does talk, she never says anything foolish, and Natasha never interferes unnecessarily in anyone's life.... its only now that I've realized how rare these qualities are in women," he said regretfully, "And she's an excellent cook too."

"She sounds like a wonderful girl," Nandini said in a small voice, despondently wondering why on earth she had begun this chat...

"That she is," he agreed instantly. "And she knows my cell number, considering that she calls me once a week. So it can't have been her phone call."

"Call?" Nandini repeated stupidly, and then remembered with a start that the conversation had begun with the telephone call of the mysterious woman. "Oh yes...she had said you don't know her."

"Alright. If it's important enough, she'll get in touch again," he muttered and stood up to his full height and looked down at her questioningly. She realized that he was waiting for her to get up and move out, so he could close Ayodhya's door and go for dinner.

In the kitchen of her house, as her mother put off the gas and took the curry to the living room, Nandini furtively picked up a steel plate and studied her reflection glumly.

Dull black hair, dull black eyes....

She discreetly looked at her hands....

....and dull hands.

She sighed and went to join the others at the dinner table.

************************

Nandini tried to rush through the crowded corridor without dashing into anyone. Nishi, Vrinda and Rishabh would be waiting in the drama club for their auditions. She had needed to borrow some books from the library and had assured them she would be with them in time. All of them were terrified and she almost thought she would have to push them onto the stage to say their lines.

She was nearing the room, when someone called out to her from behind. Nandini stopped and swung around, and her heart sank as she saw Suvek coming up to her eagerly, a fat book in his hands. His friends were huddled in a corner behind him and all of them had meaningful smirks on their faces, which perturbed her greatly.

"Are you going to take part in the audition, Nandini?" Suvek asked excitedly. "I'm taking part too."

"Oh no, I'm just going to the club because Vrinda, Nishi and Rishabh are trying out for some roles, and I want to see their auditions. They are very excited about it. Especially Rishabh," Nandini smiled.

"But why aren't you trying for any role, Nandini? You would get it easily, because you're so -" he stopped midway, "I mean...because the directors of both the dramas are my good friends. If you want I could talk to them right now."

"It's very nice of you to say that. But I was only going to cheer my friends. I can't take part in the play, I have serious stage fright."

"It looks like you've made up your mind," Suvek said dejectedly. "I won't force you any more. But if you change your decision, just remember that you only have to say the word."

"Thank you so much, Suvek," Nandini said, swiftly feeling a sense of unease at the fervour in his eyes.

And then suddenly she experienced it....an acute tingling at the back of her neck....like someone's gaze was concentrated on her. She turned around rapidly, wondering if her friends had come out of the club. But the place was teeming with students and she couldn't trace anyone staring at her.

"Are you looking for someone," Suvek asked and she turned towards him.

"No, but I felt like someone was.....anyway, I better be going now or their try-outs will be over."

"Daya told me many people have given their names for the audition," Suvek said, referring to the drama coordinator.  "So half of them may be called tomorrow."

Just then a big gang of girls and boys came loudly stampeding down the corridor. Nandini moved away and stood flat against the wall for them to pass. But as they strode past, hers as well as Suvek's books were knocked out of their hands in the tussle. Nandini sat down to pick up the books, but before Suvek could help, one of his friends came up to tell him something.

She had put her books into her bag by the time his friend had left. "This book is yours, isn't it?" she enquired, and picked up Suvek's book and held it out to him.

"Thanks, Nandini," Suvek said and took the book from her hands, and before she could withdraw her hand and stand up, he unexpectedly grabbed hold of it and urged her to her feet.

Taken aback and feeling extremely uncomfortable, Nandini tried to subtly tug her hand out of his hold, cursing herself for landing into this ludicrous situation. But he didn't seem to have realized that she was already standing and continued to gawk at her ardently.

Out of the blue, the intense prickling returned to her spine with renewed power, and her breath seemed to get caught in her throat. Someone was definitely looking at her lethally. Impelled by the sudden foreboding in her heart, she jerked her hand free out of Suvek's grasp.

"I-I'm sorry, Nandini," he stuttered, apparently coming to his senses. "I didn't mean to-"

"I have to go now," Nandini said hastily, avoiding his admiring stare, and rushed away before he could say anything.

And then she stilled in surprise, as her eyes clashed with the dark gaze of a boy, taller by a head than almost everyone else near him, coming towards her from the direction of the principal's office. Behind Prithvi, she saw the principal re-entering his cabin.

Smiling in delight at seeing him, she began to quickly thread her way through the crowd towards him, naively oblivious to the many appreciative male glances that were coming her way. In her eagerness to reach him, she smiled at a few acquaintances but didn't stop to talk.

When she was just a few feet from him, she stopped and waited expectantly. But to her bewilderment, he simply strode past without indicating by look or words that he even knew her.

"Prithvi,"

He paused and turned around.

Nandini's smile faltered on her lips at the utter indifference on his handsome face as he looked at her with cold eyes.

"What?" he demanded impersonally.

"I didn't know you were coming to college today," she said tentatively, smiling despite her growing uneasiness.

"Is that any of your business?" he asked with raised brows.

 "No- I didn't mean -" she faltered, flinching at his glacial tone. "I was just... Isn't Sumer uncle coming today morning?"

"The flight was delayed. Do you have any more stupid questions, or do I have your permission to leave?" he asked tersely, and without waiting for an answer, turned sharply and strode away, anger radiating from every line of his striking frame.

Nandini watched him go in mingled despair and confusion. Why was he so furious with her....

"Nandini, do you know that guy?" a disbelieving female voice asked.

She turned around to see a gang of the most stylish and prettiest girls in college staring at her very keenly. They had tried to drag her into their group when she had first joined college, impressed by her loveliness and affability, and had deemed her worthy enough to be part of their circle. But their efforts had been hampered by her simplicity and disinterest in fashion, and her unbreakable friendship with those two boring girls.  And they had been forced to accept that she was not going to throw away her traditional wardrobe or her friends to be part of them. Now they were friendly enough with her without overstepping their boundaries.

"Yes, he moved to the house next door to mine around a month ago," she said, managing a smile through the turmoil inside.

"That's fabulous. Now we can just ask you everything we want to know about him," Tisha, the leader of the gang, said gleefully. "We saw him today for the first time outside princi's office and were drooling over him from a distance. What's his name?"

"Prithvi," Nandini smiled softly, and then helplessly asked, "Tisha, could you tell me something? Did something happen when he was standing with the principal?"

"Not really. He and princi were talking near the princi's office for around 10 minutes. Hmmm...when they were talking, I saw Prithvi looking in the direction of the drama club a couple of times, maybe because it was very noisy there. And then Prithvi left and the princi went back into his room."

He had looked towards the place where she had been standing with Suvek....had it been his eyes that had caused fiery needles to pierce her back.....

"Could you introduce us to him, Nandini? Not now, if you don't know him sufficiently well. But maybe in a few days?."

"Of course, no problem. The only thing is I don't know if I'll ever know him well enough," Nandini added resignedly in a very low tone.

*****************

Nandini shifted her heavy bag to the other shoulder and walked towards her house in a depressed mood. It had been a rough day at the college. After the painful scene in the corridor, she had dragged her steps towards the drama hall with a heavy heart to see the auditions of her friends and cheer them.

She had waited with them for two hours, forcing herself to smile optimistically while murmuring encouragement to give her nervous friends some courage. Nishi and Vrinda's auditions had not taken place today, and they had been called again tomorrow. Rishabh had given his audition, but frightened at being the centre of so many eyes, he had forgotten all his lines, despite the three girls prompting him from the sidelines.

Red with humiliation, he had come down the steps in absolute silence, and Nandini and the others had sat with him in a secluded corner of the college for some time, talking soothingly and struggling to convince the crushed boy to make another try for the other drama. She had done her best, but wasn't sure if the attempt had succeeded. If it hadn't, then she would try again tomorrow....she was not going to let him give up so easily....

As she walked past Ayodhya, she looked at its closed doors with a pang. Was he still angry with her...

As Nandini opened the gate to her house, Ayodhya's door opened, and a familiar figure stepped out.

"Sumer uncle!" she called out happily.

Sumer Singh turned towards her and smiled at her. "Hello, Nandini. How have you been?"

"Fine, uncle. When did you come home?" she chirped and hurried towards him.

"Three hours ago. And I was waiting for you to come home," he said gladly. "I need your help with something."

"Sure, uncle. I'll come over right now."

"No, No, it can wait. You've just returned from college, haven't you? Rest for some time and freshen up. You can help me after that."

************************

Nandini hurried downstairs, scolding herself in her mind. After having lunch, she had gone up to her room to rest for a while, but because of mental exhaustion, she had fallen asleep and had woken up an hour later. Uncle would have been waiting for her all this time.....what would he think of her....

She rang Ayodhya's bell and a minute later, the door was opened by Sumer Singh

"I'm sorry for being late, uncle," she said remorsefully. "I fell asleep"

"That's all right, Nandini," he laughed. "But I need to go out for 10 minutes, could you wait here till I come?"

"No problem, uncle," she smiled and entered the room, while Sumer Singh put on his slippers.

"And Nandini, if Prithvi comes downstairs, tell him I've kept the things he would need for cleaning in the bedroom near the kitchen," he said vaguely and hurried out of the house.

Nandini walked up to the sofa, idly wondering what cleaning uncle had been talking about, but she was far more worried about what would happen if Prithvi did come down. Half of her was nervous at the thought....but the other half was desperate to talk to him.

A long, thin box was lying on the smooth coverlet of the sofa. She moved it slightly to one side and sat down warily.

He had been so angry with her in her college. She had been completely perplexed at first, and had tried to think of everything she had done since yesterday that might have angered him. But she could think of nothing....

And then she had wondered if...maybe....he was livid because had seen her with Suvek in the corridor....it seemed like another of her stupid over-imaginative ideas, but still...

If he did come downstairs, she could try to appease him. But it would not be easy, she thought and sighed.

There was a magazine on the centre table in front of her. She reached out and picked it up and began skimming through it to pass the time till uncle came back.

"What are you doing here?"

The abrupt question startled Nandini, and she looked up to see Prithvi frowning at her. She hadn't even heard him arrive.

"Sumer uncle had asked me to come for some work," she said quickly. "He had to go out for 10 minutes, so he asked me to wait. But I can leave and come later if you....," she added hesitantly.

"Do as you wish," he said curtly. "I couldn't care less." And turning his back on her stricken face, he walked towards the bookcase and began to take books out of the cupboard one by one.

Nandini watched in puzzlement as he flicked through them and then uncaringly cast them aside onto the nearby chair. Dismayed at the rough way in which he was handling the books, she almost asked him which book he was looking for, so she could go through the collection herself in a more respectful manner. But she held back, knowing that he was already livid, and even if he was not, he was not going to tolerate any suggestions about his manner of dealing with his personal possessions.

She looked at his rigid and unfriendly profile, and felt something twist in her heart.

"Prithvi," she said cautiously, "uncle said the things you need for cleaning are in the room next to the kitchen."

He didn't answer but continued with his search of the cupboard.

"Why are you so angry with me?" she asked in despair, "Is it because of what you saw today.....because it wasn't what you think."

Prithvi finally stopped tossing the books aside and turned towards her slowly, but his features only showed marked disinterest.

"What makes you think I care?" he asked with brows raised.

 Nandini looked at him in uncertainty. "You were so angry in college," she mumbled, "I thought....I thought it was because you saw Suvek and me?"

"So that was your boyfriend.....I have to admit it's an exceptional match," he reflected nastily, watching her turn pale, "two people with no looks and no brains." He turned to the bookcase and slammed its door shut, apparently having lost the patience to locate the one he wanted.

"I told you, he's not my - I've only spoken to him a few times till now," Nandini said desperately. "I was rushing to meet my friends and dashed into him, and then we were just talking about a play that is going to be staged in our college in which he and my friends are taking part," she pleaded, longing for him to believe her

"And he decided to practice some scenes with you?" he mocked, surveying the soft outlines of her pretty face.

"Practice scenes?" she asked in bewilderment, looking at his expressionless face.

"What was he holding your hand for?" he asked stonily.

Stunned by the totally unexpected and blunt question, Nandini felt her heart sink as her cheeks suffused with embarrassed colour. "My books had fallen down....and he was only helping me to my feet after I picked them up," she said appealingly.

He looked at her pale and vulnerable features impassively as she made the desperate plea, and she waited in tense stillness for him to respond....to believe....

"Get up," he instructed brusquely all of a sudden and Nandini looked at him in puzzlement. Was he going to ask her to leave....

Then as she rose to her feet nervously, Prithvi stepped forward in a purposeful movement. Alarmed, she backed away several steps with a small gasp.....and then flushed with mortification as she realised that she had foolishly misunderstood his intention.

"Don't flatter yourself," he murmured as he walked over to the sofa and lifted the parcel lying on it.

Then he turned around and began to walk towards the room by the side of the kitchen, simultaneously unwrapping the box, carefully and efficiently. He seemed engrossed in the object in his hand.

Mystified, Nandini stared at him, and then just before he stepped into the room, he pulled out the thing inside and her eyes widened in shock at the sight of the long firearm.

"That's a gun!" she cried out.

"Don't shriek," Prithvi spun around and snapped, and then derisively added, "and it's not a gun...It's a rifle," before disappearing into the room

Nandini waited indecisively in the living room, and then unable to restrain herself, she hurried to the bedroom's door.

Seated comfortably in an armchair in almost the middle of the room, Prithvi was examining the rifle with a mildly pleased look on his face.

"What are you doing with it? Put it aside! What if it something goes wrong by mistake and you get hurt?" she said pleadingly, terrified at the casual manner in which he was handling it.

"It may go off intentionally if you don't stop your melodrama," he said irately.

"But what are you doing with it?" she asked anxiously.

"Just thought I'll go for a bit of hunting this evening,"

"You what?" she gasped in fright.

"Yeah, I think I saw some deer and rabbits in the woods yesterday," he contemplated.

"You can't....how can you -" she stopped midway through her horrified protest, and then indignantly said, "Don't joke about such cruel things."

"Then don't ask such stupid questions," he snapped impatiently.

"Can I come inside?" she asked timidly after a pause.

"Since when did you start asking before marching into anyone's room?" he retorted.

Nandini stepped into the room and shuffled towards his chair guardedly, wondering when he was going to snipe at her again. She noticed two dark bottles on the floor near him, and there was a square-shaped dry cloth on the hands of the chair. So Sumer Singh had been talking about cleaning the rifle?.

Prithvi was inspecting the rifle closely, running his hands smoothly over it with something that resembled fondness. The firearm looked just like the ones they showed in movies. He had opened it at the place that she vaguely thought there should be bullets, but it was empty. Relieved that he was in no danger and a little curious about the whole cleaning process, she inched closer until she was standing by his shoulder.

"Where did you learn to do this?" she asked inquisitively, as he picked up the cloth from the chair's arm and began to wipe the rifle with unmistakable expertise.

"Its just one of those things you learn in prison."

"In prison!" she squeaked.

"Yes, that's where they put me for shooting the last person who irritated me the way you are doing now," he retorted.

"Will you stop joking about such things," she asked exasperatedly.

When he didn't bother to respond, she moved towards the side of the chair and sat down on her knees, watching the procedure with fascination.

He glanced at her briefly as she seated herself near his arm....her delicately beautiful face and bright eyes alive with innocent curiosity as she looked at the rifle he was cleaning idly....a small captivating smile hovering on her soft lips....

"Don't you have anything else to do," he asked abruptly, the slightest hint of colour tinting his face as he snatched his eyes away from her lovely features.

Startled, Nandini's eyes swung from the rifle to his face and she scrambled to her feet sadly. Was he still irked with her....

 As she backed away, she stumbled a little and knocked down one of the bottles. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said helplessly and quickly straightened the bottle, but plain water had already spilled out and was now oozing all over the floor.

Flustered at her clumsiness, she automatically took the cloth from armrest of the chair, where Prithvi had placed it just a moment ago, and began mopping up the water.

"What the hell are you doing? I was using that thing," he snapped.

Distressed, Nandini looked at the soaking wet rag in her hand. "I'm sorry," she repeated earnestly, "I'll go and find another dry cloth for you." As she turned towards the door, she felt a tug at her dupatta. In utter shock, Nandini's heart jumped to her throat, and a sense of confused panic overcame her poise.

She turned around slowly, and then stared at him in dismay. He was nonchalantly using the edge of the cotton garment to clean the rifle.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked coolly.

"Prithvi, don't - I'll get you another cloth right away. The dupatta will be ruined like this," she said desperately, horrified to see him use it to dab oil on a slightly rusted part. She was too afraid to pull it out of his grasp, as it could tear with the slightest force. This was one of her favourite outfits but it was also very old and the cloth was greatly worn-out already.

"That will be a good thing, because I don't see any difference between this and a cleaning rag," he said bluntly.

Humiliated tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them at bay. She knew most of her dresses were quite old and ordinary. Despite her mother's insistence, she had been firm in her refusal to buy new clothes unless absolutely necessary. With her mother's small salary and the meager income that her grandfather earned as a priest, she knew that every rupee was precious considering her grandfather's advancing years and hers and Prakash's education needs.

"Please," she pleaded again in a tear-thickened voice, "'Don't do this."

Sumer Singh, who had just entered the living room, froze in his steps at Nandini's heart-rending plea. The voice had come from the bedroom near the kitchen. What was happening with her? He began to rush towards it when another voice reached him, and dumbfounded, he stopped again, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Stop overreacting, will you?" Prithvi said with irritation, "You can go after I've finished."

Paralyzed with disbelief, Sumer Singh held on to a chair's headrest to avoid collapsing. Then with a determined effort, he dragged himself towards the room. He reached the door to the room, and at the sight in front of him, he grasped the doorframe for support as his knees felt as though they were about to give away in shock.

Nandini was standing with her back to him, and he could make out that she was clutching the dupatta to herself, while she struggled with someone in a chair in front of her. He could only see Prithvi's feet stretched indolently in front of him. 

"Please Prithvi, let me go," she begged. "The dress might tear if you don't -."

"Prithvi!" Sumer Singh exclaimed in stunned incredulity.

Astonished by his sudden appearance and flabbergasted tone, Prithvi let go of the dupatta and shot up to his feet with the rifle in hand. Nandini also jumped in alarm and spun around to see Sumer Singh staring at his nephew, looking completely aghast.

"What were you doing, Prithvi?" he asked in horror.

A split second later, Prithvi's face drained of colour as he grasped what Sumer Singh must have heard....and what he must have assumed was happening in this room....

"Nothing, Baba, I wasn't doing anything!" he said instantly, turning scarlet.

"Yes, he was," Nandini said indignantly, innocently unaware of the true reason behind the suddenly frigid air in the room.

"Shut up, Nandini," Prithvi said through clenched teeth, as Sumer Singh looked at him sternly.

"No, I won't. Sumer uncle, he was using my dupatta to clean that rifle," Nandini complained solemnly.

Sumer Singh looked at her blankly for some time, and only then did he register the firearm in Prithvi's hand and the bottles he himself had kept on the floor.

"He was....using your....so he wasn't-" he faltered weakly.

"No, I wasn't," Prithvi said grimly.

Nandini looked from one to the other. Sumer Singh was looking very uncomfortable and shamefaced all of a sudden, while Prithvi was gazing at him with slightly accusatory eyes.

"What did you need help with, uncle?" she smiled uncertainly, breaking the tautness in the atmosphere.

"Help?" Sumer Singh echoed in a daze, and then pulled himself together with an immense struggle. "Yes....I had asked you to help....But can you come later or maybe tomorrow, Nandini? I think I need to lie down for some time."

"Are you feeling okay, uncle?" Nandini asked worriedly, concerned at the paleness in the elderly man's face. "I'll bring you some water....or should I make some tea?"

"No, I don't need anything, child. I think I'm fine," he smiled unconvincingly, "Its just that my old heart has had a bit of a jolt. I must rest it for a while."

"That's not the only thing that needs rest, Baba," an acidic voice said as Nandini left the room, woefully examining the damage to her dress. "Your hyperactive imagination also needs a break." 

********************