Nandini checked the lock on the front door, and then moved around the ground storey of her house to verify if all the other doors were closed securely. She passed by her grandfather's room while returning after tightly locking the door to the backyard and saw that the lights were on.  Her grandfather was sitting on an armchair near his bed, engrossed in reading a spy thriller. He had a whole stack of books on espionage and international intrigue, which were his secret hobby, and which were hidden in one corner of his bedroom. Nandini had brought him most of those books with her pocket money, and she also often borrowed books from her friends for him.

Lost in the adventures of the hero who was an intelligence agent, he absentmindedly reached down and rubbed his ankles.

Nandini went into the kitchen and took a small bottle of herbal oil, which she then warmed in a small vessel and poured into a tiny container. She returned to his room and sat down at his feet. She gently lifted his feet and placed them in her lap. Then she started to gently massage the warm oil onto his ankles, which were swollen due to the cold and also because of standing for long hours in the temple.

When she looked up, her grandfather was looking at her with a very sweet smile on his face.

 Nandini grinned up at him. "So what's happening in the book, grandpa? Has the hero found out that there is a conspiracy to destroy his country?"

"No...not yet. He's just come across a spaceship in a room in the government office and he's going to go inside to find out if there are any aliens inside. Because the heroine has been kidnapped by some extraterrestrials," Bhootnath said animatedly, and Nandini giggled.

"But you know, there is a lot more mystery in Shamli these days," he added and laughed. "Everyone who has been coming to the temple has been asking me about Prithvi and Sumer Singh. Some of them came home too, with so many questions, but your mother and I told them that Rajesh had strictly instructed they were to be left alone and not be troubled by anyone," he said smugly.

That would have put an end to any questioning, Nandini thought. Rajesh uncle's sway in Shamli had not decreased at all even though he had moved away two years ago. And if people came to know that he had issued an edict, it would be followed without question.

Then Bhoothnath turned faintly grave. "You know, I have a little suspense to solve myself," he said slowly. "Ever since I've seen Prithvi, I've been thinking about this.  I know for sure I have never seen him before. But there is something familiar in the way he walks and speaks... I wonder if..."

"I am not going to sleep so early," Prakash's defiant voice floated down from his room upstairs. "It's Saturday tomorrow, there is no school. I want to stay awake for some more time."

"That boy is very disobedient. He should be sleeping by this time," Bhoothnath said, shaking his head in disapproval.

"It is time for you to go to sleep too, grandpa," Nandini said, laughing.

"But this is an action-filled part of the story," he protested.

"You can read it first thing tomorrow morning," she reassured.

Nandini stood up with the empty container and went into the kitchen and washed her hands. When she returned to her grandfather's room, his nose was still in the book. She firmly took the book from his reluctant hands, put a bookmark on the page he had been reading, and kept it on the table. She tucked him comfortably into bed, covered him with a warm blanket and put out the lights.

On the way to her own room, she passed by Prakash's room, from which her mother stepped out. "He's really drowsy, but is reading his comics book and is not willing to go to sleep," her mother said, exasperated. "Anyway, tomorrow you don't need to go to clean Ayodhya, Nandini. Sumer Singhji insisted that they will keep a maid for all that work. I asked the Sharmas if their maid could go to Ayodhya too once their work was over, and they've agreed." 

Then she bid Nandini goodnight and went into her room to retire for the night.

Instead of going to her own room, Nandini entered Prakash's and saw him lying on the bed, reading a comics book even though his eyes were drooping with sleep.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?" she asked, walking over to the bed and sitting down by his side.

"Its Saturday tomorrow, I can stay up late," he said stubbornly.

"Okay...then you can lie down on my lap and read," she said. He had always loved to do that...

Prakashthought about it. "Fine...but don't pat my head, I always go right to sleep when you do that."

"I won't," she assured him, knowing fully well that she wouldn't have to.

Prakash happily laid his head on her lap, and continued to read. But just minutes later, the book had fallen to his side and he was fast asleep. Nandini tenderly stroked his head.

Prakash had been hardly two years old when her father had passed away. He had grown up without knowing their father, without having the memories that she had...just like Prithvi.

But Prithvi had lost his mother also before he had turned six. He was an orphan. The first time she had learnt that, she had found it heartbreaking and the more she thought about it, the more it distressed her. How terrible it must have been to grow up without the love and security of parents. The mere idea was frightening. Her father had passed away seven years ago, and the pain hadn't diminished at all. But she and Prakash still had their mother and grandfather, and so many friends to love and be loved in return. But Prithvi had never known the love of a real family at all...

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

Nandini washed all the clothes in the icy cold water, put them all in a bucket and climbed up the stairs to the terrace to put them out to dry. She picked up a shawl on the way up and wrapped it around herself, as the sun was just coming up and it would be quite cold outside.

She had walked onto the middle of the terrace, when she realized there was someone on the neighbouring terrace.

Prithvi was standing facing the rising sun, eyes closed, immersed in prayer. There was a small brass vessel, the kind her grandpa used for poojas, on the railing of the terrace in front of him. He had evidently just finished offering prayers to the sun god.

That night too, when she had seen him outside the temple, he had been praying, Nandini mused.  She had startled him when she had suddenly opened the door...

When he opened his eyes, she realized with a jolt that she had unconsciously been looking at him for some moments. What if he had turned and seen her watching him...

Feeling flustered, she hurriedly picked up a sari from the bucket and started to hang it on one of the many clothes-lines. When she peeked around the side of it, he had picked up the small brass vessel and was making his way towards the door.

"Good morning" she called out cheerfully.

He halted and located the source of the greeting.

"Do you pray to the sun everyday?" she queried, "Grandpa says that's a good practice and it helps maintain a balance between ..."

"I'm glad you approve," he interrupted, "Could you ask your grandfather if he also knows of any method to keep away annoying neighbours?"

"No, he doesn't," she shook her head regretfully. "But he always says the name of a house should reflect the nature of those who live in it," she grinned. "So, I've told him we should change Ayodhya's name to 'Lanka'".

His face turned red at her insinuation and he stepped forward angrily on the other terrace, saying, "You..."

"Nandini...have you finished hanging the clothes?" Her mother walked in from the door, interrupting whatever threat Prithvi was about to give her.

"Oh hello, son," she beamed at Prithvi, and then she noticed the brass vessel in his hand, "Were you offering water to the sun? That is a beneficial practice," she said approvingly.

Nandini stifled her laughter as Prithvi shifted uncomfortably. "I...err...yes, I'll....I'll go now," he muttered and turned to leave.

"I'll help you put the clothes," her mother told her, "then we can finish fast and make something special for breakfast." 

Nandini smiled and nodded and picked up a sheer net dupatta from the bucket. Her mother picked up few garments and moved towards another clothes-line. 

Prithvi reached the door of the terrace just as she flung the garment over the line and through the transparent white dupatta she saw him reach for the door and open it. She was straightening the garment on the line, when he unexpectedly turned around.

And suddenly, she found his eyes piercing into her own through the netted cloth...And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him with force.

Why had he looked at her like that, Nandini wondered, feeling very disconcerted. Fortunately, a dupatta, even though it was translucent, had separated her from his direct gaze. Because the blush that had swiftly reddened her fair cheeks would have otherwise been very clearly visible in the early morning sunlight...

Her mother was hanging clothes facing in another direction, and Nandini desperately prayed for her face to return to its normal shade before she turned.

Prithvi had probably been giving her death threats in his mind when he had looked at her for those few moments. But even though she told herself that, her heartbeats took a while to slow down...

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

The truck with the belongings of the new tenants had arrived. A whole crowd of curious onlookers had gathered to watch the unloading of the furniture, which looked quite elegant and expensive. There were also many crates, which presumably held kitchen utensils and other household appliances.  It was only after everything had been shifted into the house that the gathering outside the house dispersed. The workers were now inside the house, moving the heavy furniture.

Nandini's grandfather and her mother had offered to help with the shifting, but Sumer Singh had assured them that they could manage on their own. But her mother insisted that they send breakfast for them at least, and so it was that at around 9:30 in the morning Nandini carried a plate of hot parathas, pickle and curd to Ayodhya.

The door was wide open as the workers were still inside. But Nandini had not forgotten her experience when she had entered without permission just a couple of days ago, and so she knocked the door and remained standing outside.

When there was no response, she gingerly stepped onto the first step, and then the second, and peeked inside the room. There was no one inside.

"What do you want?"

Startled, Nandini swung around and saw Prithvi was coming in from the gate. He had apparently stepped out to talk to the truck driver. He walked past her into the house and then turned around, blocking her way.

"I've brought breakfast. Can I come inside?" she asked brightly, knowing his answer well in advance.

"No. Give me the tray and leave." he answered shortly.

Nandini sighed. This was not going to be easy.

She swiftly moved to the side unguarded by him and entered the house, ignoring his annoyed, "Hey!".

She went straight into the kitchen and kept the food items, and then saw many crates lying unopened on the floor. It would take some time and effort to arrange all of its contents in the kitchen...and she wanted to help as much as she could. 

When she came out Prithvi was standing near the door, arms crossed. "You've done what you came for, now get out," he said impatiently.

But Nandini was looking at the changed living room with interest. It seemed so much fuller now, with more chairs, a big dining table and other assorted furnishings. A book case was lying in the centre of the room. Its place had clearly not been decided as yet. 

There was quite a bit of dust on the newly arrived furniture. Nandini saw a cleaning rag on a small side table. She picked it up and started to wipe the dining table

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Dusting. You can help too if you want," she said with good cheer.

"The dust can stay. The only thing I don't want in my house is you. Now get out."

"No," she said steadfastly. "I'll leave only after you both have eaten and after helping Sumer uncle with setting up the kitchen."

Prithvi was about to retort angrily when Sumer Singh came into the room, with a buzzing mobile phone in hand.

 "Hello Nandini," he greeted her warmly. Then he turned to Prithvi and said, "It's the professor."

Prithvi took the ringing phone. "When this call is over, I don't want to see or hear you anywhere in this house."

"Then you should talk to your professor for a very long time," she answered staunchly. This earned her another nasty look before he left the room to go upstairs to receive the professor's call.

When Nandini turned to talk to Sumer Singh again, she found him looking at her with a curious expression.

Naturally, he must not have not liked her answering Prithvi like that.

"I am really sorry, Sumer uncle. I was rude, wasn't I," she said, looking down. "But if you let me explain..." she pleaded.

"Rude?" Sumer Singh asked, surprised. "If anyone was bad-mannered, it was my nephew. I am only astonished that you didn't take his words to heart."

Feeling relieved, on the spur of the moment, Nandini decided to confide in uncle. He had always been so friendly and kind towards her, maybe he would even agree to help her in her undertaking. She needed every bit of assistance she could get if she was to strike friendship with Prithvi in this century, she thought wryly.

"I need your help, uncle," she said hesitantly, unsure of how he would react, "Aruna aunty had sent me a letter, asking me to become friends with Prithvi, and also to...to convince him to look at my family as his own. I promised her I'll do it. Will you help me, uncle?" she implored, "I don't know if I'll be able to do it otherwise."

Sumer Singh listened to her quietly, his old eyes revealing increasing amazement at what she was saying. And when she had finished, he remained silent for a minute. Nandini was starting to fear that she had overstepped a boundary, when he spoke.

"You are willing to do this even though Prithvi has been so discourteous with you ever since we came here," he said in a quiet voice. "I myself don't know why he has been so....and in spite of that you..." he stopped, looking overwhelmed.

Nandini, feeling very embarrassed and discomfited, hastily started to tell him that she had not taken Prithvi's words to heart and he need not feel so bad for her, but then he began to speak again in a low voice.

"You are just the way the Garewals described, Nandini, and now I know why they love you so much. And if you manage to do what your aunty wanted, along with her, I too will forever remain indebted to you."

And then he placed his hand on her head, almost as if in blessing.

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

Nandini and Sumer Singh systematically arranged all the utensils and other cooking implements in the kitchen. Prithvi had not come down after the phone call, as he had been instructing the workers on the arrangement of the furniture in the bedrooms.

After completing the work in the kitchen, which took a surprisingly short time, she returned to the drawing room. She had dusted the furniture but she wanted to ensure that she had not missed any spot while cleaning. And it was only then that she noticed how bare the walls were. There wasn't a single photograph of Prithvi, Sumer Singh, or of Prithvi's parents or any others in their family.

"Why aren't there any photos on the walls?" She wondered aloud.

"You could give us one of yours," a derisive voice said and she swung around. 

Prithvi had come back into the room from upstairs and looked distinctly unhappy that she had not gone away as yet. "We'll hang it on the front door. It will definitely scare away those ghosts that your grandfather insists haunt this place, and rats too."

 "There are no rats in Ayodhya." Nandini said indignantly, and then she scanned the floor and asked worriedly, "Are there?"  She was terrified of rats.

 "Sure there are, and lots of them too," he said enthusiastically, sensing a good opportunity to get rid of her. "There are two in this room itself...big black ones."

"You are not saying that just to make me leave, are you," Nandini asked suspiciously.

"What did he say now, Nandini?" Sumer Singh came into the room from the kitchen.

"Are there rats in this house, uncle?"

"Rats! Of course not, Nandini" he said comfortingly. "Don't frighten her, Prithvi," he chided his totally unapologetic nephew. "Oh, the workers are coming down now..."

Two workers came and stood next to the book-case. "Where do we keep this?" one of them asked.

"Keep it in front of that window," Prithvi said, directing them towards a big window on the right side of the room. The workers lifted the book case and started to move it.

Nandini looked at the window he had pointed to. "But if you keep it right in front of the window, it will block the view of our house and courtyard from your living room," she said, perplexed.

"That's exactly why I want it there. So you are not as dumb as you look then," he said with approval.

So he thought he could just block her out, did he...

Nandini turned to the workers. "Don't listen to him," she said charmingly, "please set it down by the side of the window, not in front of it."

Confused, the workers stopped midway, and lowered the book-case to the floor.

"Who do you think you are to decide anything in my house," Prithvi demanded angrily and then looked at the workers and said curtly, "I'm paying you, so do as I asked."

The workers were torn between the threatening look of the rather imposing young boy and the engaging smile of the very beautiful young girl. They lifted up the case again and one of them started to tug it towards the window, while the other, who was more susceptible to a pretty face, started to pull it towards the left of the wall.

So far, Sumer Singh had been standing silently, listening to the exchange of words going on between the two young people in front of him. But the pathetic condition of the workers made him feel it was time to step in.

"I think the book-case should not be placed right in front of the window, son, it can be kept to the left side." he said, "Otherwise it will block the light into the room," he added pacifyingly.  The relieved workers hurried to comply before anyone changed their minds again.

"Thank you, uncle," Nandini smiled in gratitude.

"Fine," Prithvi snapped. "Do as you please, Baba," and he gave Nandini a withering look that seemed to say that he would like nothing better than for her to disappear off the face of the earth.

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

Nandini moved around the courtyard, watering the plants. This was one of her favourite activities. Her father had always said plants had feelings just like a human being and they could hear and respond, just like a normal person. So it had been her practice since childhood to talk to the plants, caress their leaves and also give them pep talks if they looked unwell or droopy.

 Prakash had declared that she needed psychiatric treatment because she conversed with the plants, and teased her mercilessly about it. So, she had to ensure no one was around when she was giving the motivational speeches, or else her little brother would ensure that she was taken to the mental hospital.

It was evening now. She had returned to Vrindavan by 11:30, after both Sumer uncle and Prithvi had eaten breakfast. Prithvi hadn't spoken a word to her after the book-case incident. He had eaten only on Sumer uncle's insistence and then had gone upstairs to work on his laptop. When would he -

"Hey, ugly!"

Nandini sighed tiredly and closed her eyes; as of now there was only person in the vicinity who would call out to her with so much respect. 

She turned around, and sure enough, Prithvi was standing on the other side of the gate, something hanging from his outstretched hand. It was the anklet she had lost a few days ago. It was a partly amusing and partly annoying scene. He was holding the piece of jewellery far away from himself, with the very end of his finger tips, as though it were the dead body of a poisonous reptile.

 "I found it outside the bathroom. I think it wanted to take a bath to get rid of your stink," he smirked, as she walked over to take it.

She stretched out her palm and Prithvi dropped it in her hand with a relief that indicated that he had got rid of something revolting.

To be on the safe side, she waited till he was a little distance away, and then asked, "Do you need some antiseptic?"

He stopped and half turned. "Antiseptic... for what?" he asked, confused.

"For your hands. What if you get an infection because you held my anklet for a few minutes?" she quipped.

For a second, she felt sure Prithvi was going to come and grab the anklet from her hand and strangle her with it. But he content himself with glowering at her and then stalked off.

Nandini chuckled and returned to her plants. But a few moments later, her mood turned sober and she felt guilty. She shouldn't have said that. She had already angered him in the morning and now once again she had antagonized him. But the way he had held her anklet, like it was disgusting somehow, had hurt her slightly...

Still, she would never ever be able to become friends with Prithvi if she didn't learn to overlook all the hurtful things that he said, which seemed to come to him spontaneously whenever he saw her, Nandini thought despondently.

She would not break her promise and would win his friendship, no matter how long it took or how hard she had to try... 

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

"It is with Prithvi. It has been with him from the beginning," the old man said in panic, fearing more pain. "I am not lying. Please believe me."

He had been tied to a chair, and there were bruises on his face and hands. A bulky man was standing near him, pointing a gun straight to his head. Another man was standing in a corner of the room, with a gun pointed at the old man's daughter-in-law and grandchildren, who were all crying.

But it was the thin, weapon-less man, standing in front of him some distance away, who frightened him the most. 

Indrajit looked at the elderly man with disgust. The old man's screams and the sobs of his family were getting on his nerves now. And he felt as though he were polluting his lungs and his blood by breathing the same air as these filthy animals.

"If what you say is true, then you may drag your pathetic existence for some more time," Indrajit said tonelessly, almost sounding bored. "But if you are lying, I will kill your entire family in front of you, before killing you, of course. Don't think of anything as idiotic as running away, because I'll hunt you down anyways and give you and your family a slower and more painful death," he added unfeelingly.

He turned to his attendant, who was standing near the door and looked as afraid of him as the old man and his terrified family.

"I need to go to Shamli, and I must reach there tomorrow. Arrange it..." he said icily, and walked out of the room.

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