Nandini laid down the pen tiredly and flexed her fingers. It was just 7:30 in the morning and she had already been writing non-stop for two hours. She had woken up early to copy the notes she had borrowed from Nishi nearly a week ago. Just two paragraphs to go and her work would be complete. She was in her room, seated at the table that was placed against the window. This window opened into an empty room in Ayodhya and the other window in her room opened to the view of the temple and its surroundings.

Nandini turned in her seat as her mother came into the room. 

"You got up so early today," Sarojini said. "Why don't you sleep for some time? You won't get time to sleep in the afternoon."

"Just two paras to finish, maa. Then I'll sleep for half an hour."

"Okay. Be sure to get some rest. I forgot to ask you before, the lamps are ready, aren't they?" she asked anxiously.

There was a special pooja in the late afternoon at the temple and many people would be attending it.  Nandini and her family had been busy in preparations since yesterday evening and they had worked late into the night.

"Everything is ready, maa," Nandini smiled. "The lamps, the flowers, the oil. You don't need to worry about anything."

"Alright...I hope everything goes well today. Your grandfather has invited the new tenants too, and Sumer Singhji had promised to attend and bring along Prithvi too," Sarojini added happily.

Nandini was confident that Sumer Singh would come, but Prithvi...

She looked at the pleasure on her mother's face that their distinguished neighbours would be attending the small function.

"I am sure they both will attend," she smiled.

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

"I am not going to any pooja anywhere, Baba," Prithvi, who was taking some notes out of the book-case, said with finality.

Sumer Singh started to remonstrate when someone knocked on the door. He decided to resume his attempt to convince Prithvi to attend the function after answering the knock.

When he opened the door, a man in his early forties was waiting outside, sweating profusely.

"Ramdas....what are you doing here?" Sumer Singh asked in surprised welcome. "Come inside."

Ramdas staggered in through the door, and came to an abrupt halt when he saw Prithvi, who was looking at him inquiringly.

He walked unsteadily towards him till he was just a couple of feet from Prithvi. "You are Prithvi, aren't you?" he asked urgently.

"Yes, unfortunately."

"I am really sorry," the man whispered and dropped to his knees and fainted at Prithvi's feet.

Sumer Singh ran over to the prone man. Prithvi was already hoisting him up and Sumer Singh helped him carry the man and lay him on the sofa.  

"Baba, bring some water," Prithvi said and Sumer Singh hurried off to the kitchen and returned with a glass.

Prithvi splashed some water on the unconscious man, and asked Sumer Singh, "You seem to know him, Baba. Who is he?"

"This is Ramdas. I know his father, Harinarayan very well.  They both had even come to our previous house once, but you were abroad then."

"Harinarayan," Prithvi said pensively.  "Wasn't he among the close attendants of my.."

"Yes, my lord. Oh he is coming around now."

Ramdas had opened his eyes and was staring at Prithvi. Then he suddenly sat up and started to talk in a disjointed fashion.

"He had come to my house -Indrajit," he gasped, and Prithvi and Sumer Singh exchanged meaningful glances at the name.

Sumer Singh looked shocked and upset. Prithvi merely looked interested.

"And my father - he had to say...sorry...had no choice...my family..." he gasped.

"Shut up," Prithvi said evenly, and he turned to Sumer Singh. "Get some food and water for him, Baba." Sumer Singh smiled and went into the kitchen.

The man's offended look turned to that of bafflement and then embarrassment. But he didn't object, and when Sumer Singh came with a plate laden with food, he took it with slightly trembling hands. And for a few minutes there was silence as he ate ravenously and then drank a few glasses of water. When he had finished, he kept the plate aside and started to talk in a much more stronger and audible voice.

"You must not know me, Prithvi, but my father was among those who were closest to your -"

"He knows all that," Sumer Singh interrupted quickly. "What were you saying about Indrajit?"

"Oh, okay," Ramdas said and his eyes dropped to the floor. "What I have to say is...I am very ashamed..." Then he looked up at Sumer Singh and Prithvi pleadingly. "But please understand....my father had no choice," and he paused again.

Seeing that he was in some sort of internal agony, Prithvi and Sumer Singh didn't break the silence and waited patiently for him to speak again.

At last, carefully avoiding looking at either of them, Ramdas gathered enough courage and started to speak again.

"I've come from Shahpur, which is 8 hours by road from Shamli. We had lost all our land in our village, which is far from here, long ago and times were hard. Sumerji knows all about it. And some years ago, he got me a good job in a factory in Shahpur. My father is old and frail, so my wife and children remained in the village to take care of him...."

He paused for some minutes then resumed.

"Yesterday, Indrajit came to my father's house for some information. His men tied up my father and beat him very brutally," he said in a low voice with his gaze on the floor, and so he missed the anger that flashed in Prithvi's eyes at these words.  "They held him and my family at gunpoint and Indrajit demanded to know the location of the sword."

"What sword?" Prithvi frowned, and at the same time Sumer Singh asked urgently, "What did you father tell him."

"You know about it, Baba?"

"Yes, my lord...but not much...I haven't heard of it for many decades now." Sumer Singh turned from Prithvi to Ramdas again, "What did your father tell him?"

But Prithvi knew the answer to that.

"Your father told Indrajit it's with me, didn't he?" he asked amusedly.

Ramdas looked up at him, his face showing guilt at the truth in what Prithvi had said and bafflement at the light-heartedness in his tone. Indrajit's mere name was enough to strike terror into the hearts of people, and here this young man was looking almost entertained at the idea that Indrajit was about to pay him an unpleasant visit.

 "They threatened to kill my father and my family and burn down the house. Indrajit wouldn't believe my father when he said he didn't know where the sword was now. My father wanted to call you right away but he didn't have any contact number, only the address. So he told my wife to call me up to tell me to warn you. She couldn't get the line for many hours and finally managed to talk to me very late last night. I left immediately but I couldn't get a bus, so I hitch-hiked to reach here as fast as I could...Please...please forgive us..." he begged.

Sumer Singh was outraged. "How could Hari have done such a cowardly deed?" he shouted in anger, "Prithvi knows nothing about it...nothing.." 

Ramdas shut his eyes in shame.

"It was not his father's fault, Baba. He had to save his family and he did what he could to protect them," Prithvi said calmingly and Ramdas opened his eyes and looked up in surprise. "Anyone in his place would have done the same."

And then he looked at Ramdas. "You don't need to worry about your family, they will not face any more danger. I will confirm everything your father has said. Just tell him not to try to move out of the village – because Indrajit will be keeping a watch and any attempt to run away will convince him that your father was lying. But you must leave Shamli right now, before Indrajit comes, or he'll kill you," he said flatly.

Ramdas sat still listening, totally thrown by the turn of events. He had come fully prepared to be beaten and abused. Instead, he was being comforted by the very person who had been betrayed by his father. A 19-year-old whom he had only heard of and never seen before was assuring him that everything would be alright.

And he realized to his amazement that he had absolute faith in every word Prithvi was saying. If Prithvi said all would be safe and fine, then that was what would happen...nothing would go wrong, as long as they had him...

"I will tell my father and I'll go now...but please, you must leave with me."

"Leave?" Prithvi asked, bemused, "Why would I do that?"

Sumer Singh sighed and gave Ramdas a very long-suffering look.  

Dumbfounded, Ramdas stared at Prithvi, who turned to Sumer Singh and said, "Baba, go with him, see him off safely."

"Oh no no...I will go by myself," Ramdas said, taken aback.

"No, you will not go alone...and Baba, don't let him go by public transport. Hire a car. The buses here are not frequent and are delayed by hours sometimes."

Unable to say anything to express his emotions at the unexpected and extraordinary generosity he had been shown from the moment of his arrival, an overwhelmed Ramdas started to bow down to touch his feet.

"Don't," Prithvi said sharply, forestalling the gesture of the grateful man.

"But what if Indrajit comes before I can return, my lord," Sumer Singh protested.

 "You should let us have some time alone, Baba," Prithvi said ironically, "It has been so long since we've met. We have a lot to catch up on..."

 ************************

Kundan Singh furtively looked at Indrajit who was sitting alone in the luxurious back seat of the car, with his head resting back, eyes closed. The henchmen had been sent home once they had the information from the old man. They had only been taken along for the questioning because Indrajit did not want to dirty his hands with the blood of inferior people like that man and his family.

He had been dying to ask something from the time they had left the old man's house yesterday evening. Maybe he could try his luck now.

"Your highness?" he fawned from his seat next to the driver.

"What?" Indrajit asked, with eyes still closed.

"Was it wise, your highness, to leave that old man and his family alive?" he asked, trying not to sound sulky but failing. He had suggested that their men should kill all of them when they had been standing outside the old man's house, but Indrajit had not even bothered to reply. He had simply ignored him. "I still think you should have killed all of them before you left. What if they find some way to warn Prithvi?"

"No one must know what we are after. And a trail of bodies is not the best way to ensure secrecy."

"As always, you are right, your highness," Kundan Singh said worshipfully.

"And Kundan Singh..."

"Yes, your highness?"

"If you value you life, don't dare to tell me what you think I should and should not do ever again."

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

When the car came to a halt, Kundan Singh jumped out and opened the door for Indrajit, who got out and looked at the house scornfully. He was finding it insulting to even stand in such a second-rate place. How could anyone think of living here, and that too in this hovel...

Kundan Singh hurried before him and opened the gate, which had a rusty sign that said 'Ayodhya'. The door was open, but this time Kundan Singh stood aside, and waited for Indrajit to step in first. The gesture was less of reverence and more of fear.

When Indrajit walked inside, he saw Prithvi sitting in a comfortable chair, immersed in reading, with his feet resting one on top of the other on a small table in front of him.

He looked up casually at the entry of the two individuals, and then resumed his reading.

Indrajit looked unsurprised at the reception, while Kundan Singh's face showed an odd mixture of spitefulness and reluctant admiration.

"Aren't you curious about how I found you out so soon, Prithvi?"

Prithvi looked up from his book. "Actually, I was wondering what took you so long. Did your tail make it difficult for you to walk?" he asked with concern.

Indrajit's composure cracked.  "You dare to...," he said wrathfully, "you bloody - " he stopped abruptly and controlled himself with difficulty. "I did not come for this....just tell me where is it."

"Your brain?" Prithvi enquired with raised eyebrows, keeping the book aside. "Haven't you finished searching for it yet?."

Kundan Singh cringed at the acidic tone and words being hurled at his master, whom he hardly dared to look at boldly. At the same time, he inched a little closer to the door so he could escape with ease if the situation turned ugly.

"You know what I am asking for, Prithvi," Indrajit said angrily, "I've been told that you have the sword. Or have I been given false information..."  

"You've heard right," Prithvi confirmed with an air of increasing enjoyment. "I do have it. But even with your limited mental abilities, why would you think I would give the sword to you?"

"Because if you don't, I will kill you."

Prithvi shook his head disapprovingly. "You really should bring about some innovation in your threats, Indrajit. You've been giving me that same one for too long now."

"Where is the sword, Prithvi?" he asked malevolently.

Prithvi stood up slowly and patted his shirt and pant pockets with a quizzical look.

"Not here, I must have left in the pocket of my other shirt," he said regretfully.

 "So you won't give it up peacefully....You'll pay for this, Prithvi," Indrajit said menacingly.

"Look at me, I am terrified," Prithvi grinned.

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

Nandini moved around with the aarti plate, laden with camphor and flowers, offering the holy flame to all the devotees in the little temple.  

The pooja and the aarti were concluded. Everything had taken place without a hitch and everyone was very happy and satisfied at having been part of it. Her grandfather and Prakash were standing near the inner sanctum, placing the prasad – rava sheera and an apple - in banana leaves and handing it out to the devotees. Each leaf also had a sacred red thread, imbibed with holy mantras.

Her mother was busy ensuring that everything was fine, pouring more oil into lamps, and making sure that everyone had partaken the prasad.  

Once all had taken the aarti, Nandini kept the plate outside the inner sanctum. Immediately, as was almost customary, children of all ages surrounded her, every single one of them eager for her attention and affection. She took the smallest of them into her arms and chatted and laughed with all of them, talking to every child, so no one felt left out.

By 3:30 pm, the temple was nearly empty. And Nandini, her mother and Prakash started clearing up the temple, while her grandfather cleansed the inner sanctum.

After they had finished cleaning the area thoroughly, Nandini and her mother carefully packed the remaining prasad into a steel container to take home. The apples had all been distributed and only little sheera was left. Nandini would take part of it to college and her mother and Prakash would take some to school.

"Nandini, after we go home, take some prasad to Ayodhya," her mother said. "Sumer Singhji had said they were expecting some guests and that's why they couldn't come. Your grandfather saw him go out some time ago, but I think the guests are still there with Prithvi. Take a little extra for them...we must give them the prasad before they leave."

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

Nandini arranged three leaves of prasad on a plate and carefully walked with it to Ayodhya. It was sad that Sumer uncle was not there, because she would have to bull-doze her way past Prithvi to give prasad to the guests.

As she passed by the window, she saw two strangers inside. So these were the guests. It was good she had taken an extra leaf of sheera on the plate. She was nearing the door and she heard snatches of their conversation.

"I'll leave now, but you'll see me again, Prithvi."

"I look forward to it," Prithvi replied, and Nandini wondered if she had imagined the sarcasm in his tone.

All three men were standing. Apparently, the guests were about to leave. Prithvi was standing facing the door, and the two guests had their backs to her.

She knocked at the door, which was wide open, and three pairs of startled eyes turned towards the entrance at the sound. When Prithvi saw her, Nandini felt she saw some emotion cloud his eyes for a minute. Then it was gone.

Hoping that the presence of guests would prevent him from being too mean towards her, she smiled and stepped into the house. Before he could ask her to leave, she walked over to the little gathering and began to talk to the guests cheerfully.

"Good afternoon. I'm Nandini, we live next door. There was pooja in our temple today, so I just brought some prasad. Here, please take some," and she respectfully held out the plate to the old man first.

It was only when they made no move whatsoever to take the prasad that she realized they were staring at her in a strange way. A second later she identified the look – it was one of pure abhorrence and scorn.

And all of a sudden, she felt instinctively afraid of the two men. Without meaning to do so, she unconsciously backed away from both of them till she was standing beside Prithvi on his right.

Then Kundan Singh who had temporarily been robbed of speech by the audacity of the girl, finally found his voice. "You dare talk to my master and me, without being spoken to first?" he asked furiously. "How dare you...and don't bring that disgusting food near us."

Now completely frightened, she winced at the repulsion in the man's tone and expression. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so truly afraid. And when she looked at the tall, thin man, her fear multiplied. He must have been 30 years old at the most and was fair and clean shaven. But his eyes were devoid of any feeling. Like those of a creature of stone. She felt terrified all of a sudden, and found herself wishing frantically for him to leave Ayodhya, and Shamli too. Tears of fright and humiliation stinging her eyes, she looked down at the floor and managed to say, "I'm sorry...I'll go now..."

But she had barely moved, when a hand swiftly closed around her wrist.

"You are not going anywhere," Prithvi said.

Nandini's heart nearly jumped to her throat with shock and some other strange sentiment...and colour rushed into her face. His fingers were actually wrapped around her wrist and he had spoken up for her. It was a light clasp but it might as well have been a chain for the way it rooted her to the spot.

And just like that, she felt the fear that had gripped her heart evaporate. She wasn't afraid anymore....

She was staring at him in utter amazement, but he was not looking at her. His eyes were fixed on the old man, who had turned a little pale.

"Take the prasad from her hands, Kundan Singh," he ordered icily.

Kundan Singh looked at him, alarmed. He looked confidently at his own master, waiting for him to intervene and punish Prithvi for this impudence. But Indrajit looked back at him uninterestedly, like what was happening had nothing to do with him. And Kundan Singh understood that he was not going to get any help from that quarter.

"Of course, Of course," he gave an oily smile, and hastily came forward and took a leaf from the plate.

"Eat it," Prithvi commanded.

The second Prithvi had caught hold of her hand, Nandini had felt as though she had temporarily lost her voice. But the reality of what was happening now closed in on her...

"No!" Nandini exclaimed, horrified, "Prithvi, please...don't insult him like this..". 

He still didn't look at her. His gaze, unyielding and inflexible, was fixed on the man.

"Who do you think you are, asking for mercy on my behalf," Kundan Singh sneered at her, "I would prefer death rather than get any respite because of you."

"If you prefer death, I would be happy to oblige, now eat," Prithvi said, his voice vibrating with anger.  

Kundan Singh flashed a last pitiful look at his master, who was looking at his predicament dispassionately, and then began to eat the prasad. He stuffed his face with it in one go, and then swallowed it with an expression that suggested he had just consumed poison.  

And then finally Indrajit spoke. "Kundan Singh, you must pay for your misdeeds. You should not have forgotten the affinity Prithvi has for those who are not fit to even be kept as servants."

Prithvi transferred his frosty gaze from the old man to Indrajit. "Think twice before you open your mouth about her again, Indrajit, she is -" There was the smallest of pauses. "She is a friend." 

Nandini felt her heart fill with joyful astonishment at his words and she smiled involuntarily in happiness. Prithvi though was still refusing to look at her. 

"As big a disgrace as you are, I had thought....but then what can I expect," Indrajit said with malice in every word, "with the blood of that filthy..."

Prithvi's grip suddenly tightened painfully and his fingers bit into her wrist.

"Please complete that sentence, Indrajit," he said in a dangerously soft voice. "Give me the reason I've been waiting for."

A flash of terror passed across Indrajit's face, and his face became whiter than usual. But he recovered rapidly, and without saying a word he turned around and marched out of Ayodhya. Kundan Singh scampered right behind him, after shooting Prithvi and Nandini a final look of hatred.

Prithvi stood looking at them for a few seconds, and then he finally looked at her. "Do you need a special invitation to leave?" he enquired.

She should have known it was too good to last, Nandini thought resignedly. Prithvi was back to normal.

"I don't need a special invitation...but I need you to leave my hand," she said with a straight face, fighting both a grin and a blush.

It was only then that Prithvi realised that he was still holding on to her wrist and he let go immediately with a red face. "Go now!" he muttered, turning abruptly away from her. He returned to the chair he had originally vacated when Indrajit had come, picked up his book again and started to read.

Nandini was feeling extremely self-conscious, and a curious awkwardness seemed to have sprung up in the room. If she didn't make the atmosphere normal right away and talk about their visitors casually, she didn't think she would be able to face him without getting all flustered.

So she bravely went and sat on a chair that was at an acceptable distance from his.

 "Who were those people?" she asked hesitantly, knowing that they were not welcome guests by any stretch of the imagination.

"The two rats I told you about yesterday," he retorted, "And why are you still here."

"Why were they like that," she asked uncertainly, and he knew she wasn't asking about their behaviour towards her.

"That's none of your business. Now go home and leave me in peace."

Nandini sighed...she would have to talk about something else.

"What are you reading?"

"The true story of a man who killed his neighbour for being too irritating and nosy."

"But I'm not just your neighbour, I'm your friend too."

That made him look up from the book. "Friend?" he repeated disbelievingly, "What gave you the idea that we are friends?"

"You said it yourself," Nandini grinned, "in front of them."

He looked a little discomfited at the memory, but just for a moment. "I only said that because it would make them leave faster if they thought I had friends like you," he said dismissively and resumed reading.

Nandini felt her heart sink a little. Was that really why he had said that? It was a possibility, because the visitors had looked quite revolted when he had said it.

But she was not going to let go of that straw of hope she had been given. "But you still said it, didn't you? So that makes us friends," she said determinedly.

He ignored her.

"You are not going to talk anymore, are you," she asked dejectedly. "Okay...I'll keep this plate in the kitchen and then go home."

She walked into the kitchen and kept the plate on the platform. She was about to turn away when the sacred threads in the leaves caught her eye. Those two scary men who had come here....they had looked at Prithvi with so much loathing, especially that tall, thin man named Indrajit. And their tone had been so threatening and hostile towards him...

She thought over it for some time, and then she picked up one thread and returned to the living room.

"Prithvi.."

"What do you want now?"he asked irritably.

"You can have the prasad later, but will you tie this around your wrist," she asked hopefully, holding out the thread to him.

He looked at the thread and then at her with contempt written all over his face.

"Are you insane?"

"It's a sacred thread... for protection," Nandini said desperately.

"The only thing I need protection from is your company," he said irately, "I am not tying that thing ,so just go away.."

So he wouldn't tie it by himself. Nandini squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for forgiveness for what she was going to do...but she had no choice now. She kept the thread on the cushioned hand of the chair.

The she moved back a little, took a deep breath and said in a rush before she lost her nerve, "If you don't tie this, I'll have to tell Sumer uncle something."

Prithvi had reached the end of his patience. He cast the book aside and stood with a speed that startled Nandini, and she hastily moved behind a chair for security.

"And what are you going to tell him," he asked sharply.

"That...that....when I...I came to your house when he was not there, you caught my hand by force," Nandini stammered bravely, though her voice was shaking.

The colour seemed to drain from Prithvi's face. "You'll tell him what?"

His reaction gave her a little courage. It was evident that he found the idea horrifying in the extreme.

"I'll tell him, I swear."

"He won't believe you," Prithvi said immediately.

"He'll believe me if I show him this," she answered, and held up her left wrist which bore a very red and clear impression of five fingers that had grasped it.

He stared at the proof silently and Nandini wondered if she had just signed a death warrant.

Then, with obvious anger, he snatched the thread off the hand of the chair and carelessly wrapped it around his right hand.

"There...I have tied it.." he snapped, "Now get out of my house."

"See...that wasn't hard at all," Nandini said brightly. "But don't remove it after I've gone," she added wisely, "it must fall off by itself."

But she had finally pushed her luck too far.

Prithvi moved towards her threateningly, gritting his teeth. Realising that he was going to actually throw her out himself this time, Nandini chuckled and sprinted out of Ayodhya.

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