Sumer Singh looked at the crumpled article again, and felt renewed fury as his gaze took in random lines from the piece.

Old king awaits arrival of grandson to announce succession….has been waiting for more than a decade for estranged grandson to return home… News could seriously upset relatives who have been impatiently in the sidelines for years in hopes of inheriting the fabulous fortune….king expects severe backlash from family but decision will remain unchanged….will anoint the grandson as crown prince in the grandest ceremony witnessed in this land if he agrees to return…. but refused to divulge the name or any details about the fortunate boy for whom one of the richest royal families in the country awaits impatiently…..

Another newspaper came flying and landed at his feet and joined the three others already lying on the floor. Sumer Singh looked at the young boy sitting at the other end of the couch, impatiently rifling through a disarranged stack on the ground in front of him.

"I only heard of it half an hour ago, my lord," Sumer Singh said guiltily, even though Prithvi had not asked for any explanation. "My friend had called up. I've been trying to call up everyone possible to find out what is going on. The news hasn't come in all the newspapers, and even then apparently it was squashed in the bottom corner of the page before the sports section. So not many people have seen it."

"It is good to know that the newspapers have some little sense left about the relevance of the article and knew where to dump it," Prithvi retorted, throwing aside a paper in frustration. "They must have gotten quite a sum just to carry it at all."

"The few who saw it tried calling me up yesterday also but couldn't get through because the network had gotten jammed with all the chaos. But how did you come across the news piece?"

"It was in one the newspapers that had been used to wrap that ugly showpiece. I knew it. This trash hasn't come in the earlier editions. It must have come in yesterday's paper, which is the one edition I missed," Prithvi said irritably, tossing aside another newspaper.

"It came just after you had left for college yesterday, but Sankat and I both read the paper and we didn't see this article," Sumer Singh said, perplexed.

"Who read the paper first?" Prithvi asked with sudden sharpness.

 "Sankat,"

Without saying another word, Prithvi took the paper from Sumer Singh's hands and rose swiftly from the couch. Walking out of the room, he ascended the staircase and strode to Sankatmochan's room. He pushed the already half-open doors and stopped short. Sankatmochan was sitting on the floor, tapping the side of his face with a pen, looking dreamily into space with a notebook open in front of him.

He looked up abstractedly at Prithvi and beamed. "Is it time for lunch?"

"No, but I do have a nice rewarding questioning time lined up for you," Prithvi said tersely, and tossed the torn and crumpled piece of paper he had retrieved from Vrindavan towards him. Sankatmochan caught it and smoothed the page confusedly, and then guilty comprehension dawned on his face.

"Does your mouth open only to stuff food inside?" Prithvi asked roughly, as Sumer Singh also entered the room. "Why didn't you speak a word of this yesterday?

"But Prithvi, I didn't see the article yesterday," Sumer Singh said, "So I don't think even he would have -"

"He took the page – the one that had this article – before giving the paper to you," Prithvi said grimly. "And later he hid the paper too, so I wouldn't chance to notice the discrepancy when I'd go through it later in the evening."

 Sankatmochan sighed very deeply. "I didn't think there was anything in it worth repeating to you. I did not want you or the reverend uncle to read it and go on your guard for no reason. It was just some emotional drivel and -"

 "You actually thought that lunatic was getting emotional over me?" Prithvi cut him off harshly, "Do you know anything about him at all!"

"But he has only spoken about how much he loves you and wants you back. And that if you return to the palace, he'll announce you as his successor immediately."

"Even with your pea-sized brain, it should have been clear to you after reading this rubbish that something foul in going on in his head," Prithvi said edgily.

"Well I did think that he has gone completely senile to think you will even consider going back," Sankatmochan shook his head.

"Its come as a shock," Sumer Singh confessed. "This must have been planned all of a sudden. Because there was no mention of this when I spoke to my mole in the palace day before yesterday."

"There is nothing sudden about this," Prithvi growled. "Digvijay was here just a couple of days ago….and now this news. I assume the car was a last ditch attempt to reach a compromise. He is planning something huge….and I think we'll know more about it very soon."

"It was a dreadful coincidence that you didn't happen to ask for the paper yesterday after returning from college, when that's usually the first thing you do on the days that you miss reading it in the morning," Sumer Singh said.

Sankatmochan chuckled. "He had far more important things on his mind last evening."

"What do you mean?" Sumer Singh asked.

"Nothing, nothing," Sankatmochan said quickly, smartly perceiving the violent threat burning on Prithvi's face.

"Three of my friends left from their homes yesterday evening to come down here to meet up and discuss what could -"

"You can discuss anything you want with them, but not here, Baba," Prithvi said coolly.

"But my lord, they would be thrilled to meet you,"

"The feeling is not reciprocated," Prithvi said shortly. "Every gathering of yours ultimately ends up as a flattering and tearful memorial service for father – and I am as interested in listening to that as I am in hearing about my grandfather's supposed affection for me."

"Alright, I'll go and meet them in the hotel they are staying at in the town," Sumer Singh sighed.

"I'll drop you to the hotel."

"But your bike is in the college. Vehicles have started plying slowly, but I'm not sure if we'll get- "

 "We'll check at the rental agency by the corner of the road. The greedy idiots won't refuse to rent out a car for a higher price."

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

"The jewellery is lovely, Aarti didi!" Nandini said gaily, admiring the sari and ornaments spread on the bed. "You'll look so beautiful on your wedding day."

"There are some more but father kept them in the bank. If you'd come earlier, I could have you shown you all of them. It's been so long since you paid us a visit," Aarti complained, "And I haven't seen you in the market also for days now."

"I'm very sorry, didi. Got a little caught up with college and tuitions," she apologised ruefully again. She had been repeating the apology over and over again ever since she had stepped into the Chawlas' grand home.

Sarojini has called her up a short time back and asked her to come over, explaining that the small crowd in the house, including friends and relatives of the Chawla family, had been asking to see her after having heard about her from Aarti and her mother. She had managed to wake up Prakash at last, and after keeping his breakfast on the table, she had left in flurry.  Sarojini had introduced her to the assorted group in the living room and after smiling and greeting them and answering myriad questions, Aarti had dragged her upstairs to show her the wedding dress and jewellery.

"You're forgiven. But for the 2-3 days around the wedding, I want to see you here whenever you are free," Aarti said sternly.

"I promise," Nandini grinned.

"It was such a relief when your mother and Sharma aunty finally reached here. Ma had to stay with father in the hospital, and she said he'll be coming home by evening. Grandmother has been continuously fretting since yesterday, that the wedding is just few days away and so much needs to be done. I didn't know what to do to calm her down. And there are so many relatives staying with us, that managing everything has become a nightmare. I just didn't know what to do -"

"Don't worry about it at all, didi," Nandini said comfortingly. "Ma and I were planning to come here anyway to help with the preparations.

She didn't add that the whole locality completely sympathized with Aarti and her mother for having to live under the domineering shadow of Aarti's paternal grandmother – a highly garrulous woman whose almost malicious bluntness could burn the skin off people's faces. Aarti's grandfather was a very thin old man who simply sat quietly in one corner of the house, evidently immune to the verbal onslaught he had endured for decades.

Downstairs, Sarojini checked the consistency of the curry and closed the lid. Few of the female guests were helping them with the cooking, while the others were contently resting in their rooms or watching television.

"Sarojini, has your daughter turned 18?"

Surprised at the abrupt question, Sarojini turned around and faced Aarti's grandmother who was comfortably seated on a rocking chair to supervise the cooking.

"She'll be turning 19 very soon. Her birthday is coming up next month," Sarojini smiled.

"Hmmmm…..I am already hearing talks of families in the locality who have set their eyes on her for their own sons or for those of relatives. I think you should start looking out for a good match for her."  

"In this day and age no one gets their daughters married off at 18. Girls study as much as boys and are working in all fields alongside men," Sarojini said lightly.

"That is very true. And you are being unfair, grandmother," Manju Sharma intervened. "Aarti has completed her graduation, hasn't she? So why shouldn't Nandini."

"You modern women will not understand my view, but I must speak my mind," the old woman said tartly, and the other women in the room winced in anticipation of the verbal torrent that would be coming. "I love my granddaughter, but that does not blind me to the fact that she is plain-looking. I had wanted to conduct her marriage soon too, but my son did not listen to reason. And I think it is only luck that we got a good proposal so quickly. But Nandini….you will face a problem in the reverse in her case. Your daughter's beauty and cheerful nature will attract the attention of men the way meat attracts birds of prey. There is no paucity of red-blooded males in our society…. That is why I am advising you to get her married off before -"

"I shall conduct Nandini's wedding only after her studies are completed to her satisfaction and she is wholly ready for marriage. Not before that," Sarojini said with a gentle determination that put a stop to the calamitous monologue, and received approving and encouraging smiles from those in the room who could pull it off without being seen by grandmother.

"Daughters are always a huge liability, Sarojini, remember that," Aarti's grandmother warned.

"My daughter isn't," Sarojini said simply, and suddenly feeling the need to keep Nandini as away as possible from shrewd and intrusive eyes, she stepped out of the kitchen and picked up her purse from the table in the veranda. Then she moved to the bottom of the staircase.

"Nandini, could you come down," she called out.

 Nandini paused in the midst of chattering gaily with Aarti, while carefully refolding the red wedding sari and looked towards the landing outside the door.

"I'll be right back, didi," she said and made her way out of the room, down the stairway. As she descended the last few steps, Nandini felt a peculiar strain in the air. Her incomprehension increased as she noticed that her mother, Aarti's grandmother and Sharma aunty, who had also come out of the kitchen, were looking at her with varying degrees of somberness.

 "Do you need help with something in the kitchen, ma?" she asked uncertainly.

 "No, I just realized its nearing lunch time and your grandfather might be waiting for us. I had wanted to buy some vegetables on the way back home. But I think it will take me some more time to wrap up things in the kitchen here. It will be easier if you go to the market to buy the vegetables and go home and start cooking. I'll surely be home by then."

Still mystified at the unusual solemnity in her mother's eyes, Nandini said, "But I'm not sure if the main market will be open today, ma."

"Don't go to the big market, it could be isolated. Manju told me some stalls have just opened up at a short distance from the temple. Here, take my purse. I've kept a small list inside it. Buy whichever of these vegetables is available."

Nandini took the purse her mother was holding out and nodded slowly, feeling puzzled at the strangely pensive looks on the faces of the women standing behind her mother.

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

Nandini clutched the small bag of vegetables with one hand and rechecked the list her mother had given. She had only been able to purchase 2 of the items on the list. But it was okay. Most of what they needed was already stocked in the refrigerator. She would ask grandfather if he wanted anything special, and Prakash would definitely have suggestions of his own.

What about Prithvi…what did he like to eat….and what did he dislike….surely the second list would be longer, she thought amusedly. She felt too shy to ask him, but whom else could she ask without arousing suspicion….

But if she could somehow find out what he liked, maybe she could make it for him. Or it would be a better idea if she just helped her mother cook the dishes, she thought dejectedly, going by the way he was eternally complaining about her cooking even if everyone else appreciated it. 

After Sankatmochan had arrived, she had heard Sumer uncle tell her grandfather that it was getting difficult to cook such large quantities of food and he had mentioned that they were on the lookout for a chef. Maybe, once the chef was hired, she could innocuously enquire from him or her about Prithvi's likes and dislikes….

Speaking of whom, she was a little worried about their ominous parting words in the morning. What was he planning to do? In any case, she would have to constantly be on guard now, Nandini contemplated with a sigh. As she passed by the temple, she stopped and managed to fold her hands in prayer around the bag in her hands.

But when she closed her eyes, perhaps prompted by the sight of the shrine and the tree in front of it, the vivid imagery of that long-past mysterious night replayed itself in front of her eyes. And the question she had tried to bury in her consciousness surfaced impudently, disturbing her concentration.

About the night they had met for the first time, right at this temple….

Had he also been caught up with the strange, almost intoxicating, enchantment in those few moments, which had haunted her waking moments and dreams ceaselessly in the following weeks….Had he at least remembered her when they had met again….

There had been that inexplicable anger in his eyes on seeing her that afternoon when she had unknowingly entered Ayodhya, believing it to be empty. But that didn't make any sense….why would he be angry because he had recognized her. It was simply the fact that she had strayed into their house without permission that had annoyed him.

The thought of asking him about that night was disconcerting. How would she frame the question so as to avoid sounding like the sentimental fool he fully believed she was. But she had to find out once and for all if the memory of that meeting, which was etched so finely on her heart for all of time, only had the relevance of an amusing twist of fate for him….

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

 Sankatmochan inhaled a lungful of air and trilled, "The sun, these trees, this peace….everything is so conducive to my new undertaking. I was right in deciding to come out with the old man and you." 

"What new undertaking?" Prithvi frowned, walking slowly to match his friend's unsteady gait. They were on the way back home after hiring a comfortable car for Sumer Singh to take him to the luxury hotel in the town's centre.

"I'm writing a book," Sankatmochan said proudly.

"Really? On what -  Abstinence?," Prithvi asked wryly.

 "I am not as shallow as you think," Sankatmochan said in an aggrieved tone. "It would astound you to know that I am writing a book on the purity of love."

 Prithvi gaped at him wordlessly for a moment, and then smirked. "You – of all people in this world – are writing a book on purity?

"That's right."

"What's next? A vow of lifelong celibacy, I suppose."

"Celibacy is for losers, like Sumer Singh," Sankatmochan said staunchly.

"Mochi," Prithvi said with a slight warning in his voice.

"Oh ok, I'm sorry," Sankatmochan fibbed glibly.

"Hmmm…and Mochi?"

"Yes?"

"Disappear."

"What?" Sankatmochan asked, baffled. Then his eyes followed Prithvi gaze to the girl who had come into sight as they turned a corner, and he grinned smugly.

"You shall not even see my dust in an instant, brother. And I am willing to accept whatever little monetary gift you would wish to bestow on me for doing this favour."

"When you die at the hands of a mob because I refuse to interfere, I will publish your book posthumously. How's that for a gift?" Prithvi asked thoughtfully.

"Gifts, especially monetary ones, are meaningless. Don't know why people place so much emphasis on it," Sankatmochan scoffed. "I shall go home by a twisted route and recommence work on my book."

"I'm glad you got my point so easily," Prithvi said ironically.

When Sankatmochan had finally left with another annoying snigger, Prithvi started to walk towards Nandini, and then halted, and a grin unfurled on his handsome face.

He looked at the watch on his hand, and then removing the cell phone from his pocket, he quickly dialed a number. After the phone had rung twice, he disconnected the line, and then resumed his steps in Nandini's direction.

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

Nandini mopped her forehead and the back of her neck with the handkerchief, then stilled at a funny whispering in her heart and turned around quickly.

Think of the devil….

Prithvi was walking towards her. The instant their eyes met, her heart went into the customary twirl, and wondered in shy exasperation if she would be able to meet him without going into a flutter. There were other people in the vicinity, making their way out of their houses after having stayed cooped inside since the previous evening. It was probably not a very good idea for her and Prithvi to be seen talking like this. And yet, she couldn't look away from his arresting gaze, leave alone communicate her fears regarding decorum.

And she sensed it for the umpteenth time….

There was something in him, almost like an extraordinary life-force, that made everything around him, living and non-living, pale into insignificance….an entrenched brilliance that could outshine the brightness of all things in the vicinity....

"Where had you been?" Nandini smiled involuntarily, as the usual and ridiculous surge of happiness stirred inside her. And he had reached very close before she remembered the morning's argument. But then she had always found it difficult to hold on to anger, and with Prithvi it had always been infinitely tougher to stay aloof, she reflected resignedly.

"Just exploring this place," Prithvi shrugged, and Nandini felt mildly annoyed at the absence of any sign of surprise on his face at her amiability. He was always taking her for granted, and she had been right in putting her foot down this time.

"You already know more about the lanes and shortcuts in this place than I do even though I was born and brought up here. How much more do you want to explore," she enquired.

"Need to find some places where I can discuss world affairs with you in private," he grinned insolently. 

She started to bemusedly ask him what he meant, and then realized the roguish insinuation and turned pink with embarrassment.

"You can have all the private discussions you want with your unbelievable arrogance," Nandini said stiffly. "I'm sure you both will get along like a house on fire."

"Won't you be able to spare even 5 minutes for me?" Prithvi asked with such unexpected innocence that her heart almost melted.

But she couldn't cave in….she had to toughen herself….

"No!" she said firmly, looking at a point over his shoulder, knowing she wouldn't be able to hold on to her resolution if she looked into his eyes.

Prithvi regretfully said, "That's sad, but -" He stopped as his phone started ringing.

He looked at the name and grinned. "Hey, it's Natasha,"

Downright dismayed by the unforeseen and inauspicious intrusion, Nandini watched in trepidation as he answered the call.

There were no formal opening lines. "I'd been wanting to talk to you for long. How have you been doing?" he asked.

Nandini looked away tersely, bitterly indignant. He had hardly ever spoken to her that nicely…..

"Could you hold on for a minute, Natasha," he asked very courteously, and Nandini felt a little mollified at the idea that he had noted her displeasure and was probably taking a minute to reassure her. At least, he wasn't completely insensitive to her feelings….

Instead, he covered the speaker with his fingers, and to her horrifying disbelief, looked at her with raised brows. "Do you mind giving me some space so I can have private conversation with her? In fact, I think you should carry on ahead and go home. My call could go on for a long while," he said blithely.

Outraged, Nandini stared at him and tried to control the urge to pull the phone from his hand and throw in on the ground and stomp on it until only atomic particles remained.

"But we were talking too," she burst out angrily.

"Oh that… I don't want to force you to do something you don't want to," he said carelessly. "I am completely fine with your decision."

"Prithvi, I didn't mean-," she started earnestly, but evidently not having heard anything, he turned his back on her and walked away, talking softly.

Feeling suddenly close to tears, Nandini bit her lip hard to restrain herself from shouting out that she was perfectly willing to meet him even if he summoned her to the gates of hell at the stroke of midnight.

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

Kadambari held out the silver-plated tray with the silken cloth to the petite girl. Rajeshwari took the fabric and wiped her thin hands on it and returned it to the tray.

"You've hardly eaten anything today as well, your highness," Kadambari said gently. "Should I bring some almond milk for you?"

"No, Kadambari. You know I cannot eat much," Rajeshwari said in a low voice. "And on top of that, I'm feeling a little queasy today for some reason."

Kadambari couldn't think of anything to say. Rajeshwari had been an extremely timid creature from the time of her birth, and after her parents and brother had passed away in a car accident, she had also become very prone to nervous breakdowns.

A discreet knock sounded on the door to the magnificent bedroom,

"Who could that be? Everyone would be having their afternoon nap by now," Rajeshwari said fretfully.

Kadambari placed the tray on the small mahogany stand near her and hurried to answer the summons. On seeing Manohar outside, she bowed slightly and immediately moved to a corner.

Rajeshwari felt a chill spread through her at the idea of what he might have come for.

"I am sorry for disturbing you, your highness. But his majesty has summoned you to the golden hall," Manohar said with the faintest trace of pity in his eyes.

"Grandf- Grandfather has su-summoned m-me," she stuttered fearfully, and exchanged a terrified glance with Kadambari.

Manohar nodded. "Please come with me immediately. It would not be wise to keep him waiting for a second longer than necessary."

"But why? Why has he – I haven't done anything – wrong!"

Grimacing at the choked reply, Manohar said, "I am not at liberty to discuss anything with you, your highness. I would only request you to hurry."

Knowing that she was risking her grandfather's wrath with every minute of delay, Rajeshwari quietly walked out the door, without looking at either of the people in the room.

Already, she was trembling, and it would only get worse once she came face to face with the man she feared the most in the world.

When would this torment that was her life come to an end once and for all….

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

For a room quite crowded with people, the main hall of the palace was quite silent. The only sounds came from the anguished wails of woman, who was being dragged away by the other servants before the king's ire turned on her, and a hysterical plump boy who was shouting at the top of his voice. In his case, two guards were struggling to subdue him. He was putting up a very good fight, but his boyish energy was not a match for the tough guards.

In a highly unusual occurrence, almost every person in the breathtaking citadel, right from the members of the royal family to the lowliest servants, were occupying the same room at the same time. The only absences were of those who did not have the courage or inclination to witness the ongoing horrendous spectacle, which was holding every eye, aristocratic or servile.

The 7-year old boy cringed at the pain in his elbow where it had struck the balustrade of the stairs. There was blood on the boy's shirt and face, and tears were pouring down his cheeks.

There was already a growing red patch on the shirt where it had hit the sharp-edged corner of the marble railing. Very soon his white shirt would have red marks all over it. His mother always asked him to be careful while playing so as to avoid getting stains on it. But he wasn't too worried….because unlike other mothers, she never yelled at him no matter how much trouble and scrapes he got himself into. Only loving words ever left her lips, and he had only known her arms to come around him in a protective hug or to cuddle him lovingly, never raised in anger.

He could hear choti maa screaming something in the distance. And mochi….mochi was also howling in anger and sorrow somewhere in the periphery, and he dimly noted that the guards were holding his friend back roughly.

The highly polished walking stick with the gold and diamond encrusted knob swung towards him again, and the blow loosened his feeble grip on the exquisitely decorated handrail, and he toppled down the last flight of stairs. The carpeted flooring cushioned the fall of his small body, but the cutting pain all over his body made him start crying again despite all his efforts to maintain a brave facade.

But he wouldn't ask for mercy. He wouldn't shame his mother and himself like that, Prithvi thought in the red and painful haze before his eyes, which was making it difficult for him to see clearly.

The king slowly walked down the steps and halted in front of the tiny figure.

"Get up," he commanded coldly.

Shuddering with agony, Prithvi slowly managed to rise and stand painfully on his injured feet.

"Where is your mother?" the king asked again. "I am certain that she would not have stepped out of the palace without telling her beloved son. The beating will not stop until you speak up. So….tell me everything she said."

The monarch watched in silent disdain as the boy wiped his tears with the back of a bruised hand. But when Prithvi raised his eyes to meet his, the king felt slightly startled at the indomitable and powerful fire burning in the boy's brilliant eyes. And then, just like it had happened at the luxurious forest camp months ago, a strange presentiment warned that he was making a terrible and irreversible mistake…

"I won't," Prithvi said quietly.

This time the knob's metal came swinging powerfully towards his head, and then he didn't know anything…..

Prithvi woke up with a start. Then realizing it had only been another of his nightmares, he breathed deeply and leaned back against the bark of the tree.

But these kinds of dreams - the ones that only replayed his persecution at the palace and later as well - didn't really torment him too much. Those that featured people he cared about were the ones that were beyond endurance…

Feeling the cool brush of wind, he looked around indolently. He was sitting under the tree…the one with the amazingly white blossoms….. near the old and abandoned temple. Nevertheless, there was something curiously different about the place…

But the atmosphere was so peaceful that an instantaneous calm came over him, and the slight uneasiness vanished. He rose to his feet and began walking towards the road that would lead him out of the woods, still wondering at the unearthly serenity and beauty of the place.

And then, the soothing breeze brought a faint aroma of sandalwood, and he turned around swiftly and instantly realized why the area had looked almost as if a portion of heaven had dropped onto earth, unknown by celestial beings and humans as well….

Some distance away, Nandini was sitting on the steps of the temple with a stone idol by her side. She was decorating the deity devotedly with flowers, and there were little bowls of sacred ash and vermillion powder next to her.

The few remaining traces of the burdened feeling vanished all at once. 

She looked up from the idol and smiled warmly at him, "Where are you going? Come, help me with this." He grinned and began walking towards her.

Suddenly, the land in between them shook violently.

The blue sky rapidly turned black with an onslaught of threatening clouds, and a violent gust of chilly wind swept across the land. He instinctively started to rush towards her to get her out of harm's way, but again, out of nowhere, biting dust rose in a whirlwind in front of him, and blocked all vision….

Just as he began fighting his way through it to reach her, the wind subsided abruptly and he could see and breathe again.

But when his eyes opened, everything around him had changed, and as his stunned eyes took in the startling change of scene, a numbing coldness spread through him.

There was only desolate and parched earth on all sides of him and the sun was blazing down with blistering intensity….

The temple, the woods….everything had disappeared….

And so had she.

"Nandini!" he roared in the excruciating stillness around, as tormented rage exploded through his veins.

Seated comfortably on the couch in the living room, Sankatmochan looked up from the manuscript in which he had been scribbling and looked up with surprise to see his friend sit up in the armchair with startling speed, looking as white as the sheet of paper in his manuscript.

"Did you have another of your nightmares, brother?" he asked with concern. "I kept aside the book you were reading when I saw that you had fallen asleep. I wasn't sure if I should wake you or not, because I haven't seen you take a nap during the day in so many years."

Prithvi looked at him with slightly dazed eyes, but didn't respond. Then in a flash, he vaulted out of the chair and moved towards the window that opened to the view of Vrindavan's drawing room. His fervent gaze seemed to be searching for someone, but there wasn't anyone there apart from Prakash, who was happily dismantling a toy on the floor outside the kitchen.

Plainly frustrated, Prithvi moved away from the window and opened the door and strode into the courtyard and swore. She could usually be found here at this time of the day, watering the plants…..but there was no one around at this minute.

Otherwise, she was forever traipsing all over the place, with the sound of her soft laughter and anklets driving him to infuriating distraction….but now that he was looking for her, she had to become invisible….

He began striding towards Ayodhya's backyard, which was a tangle of trees, flowers and weeds, unlikely it's lovingly maintained counterpart on the other side.

His blazing eyes once again scanned every inch of the opposite yard. She wasn't there.

He would check the room on top that looked into her room, and then the terrace. And if she wasn't to be found anywhere, he would simply barge into Vrindavan and ask for her….everything and everyone else be damned.

He began turning away, and then stopped and swung around sharply again.

A pink-clad vision had just stepped out from the cloister of trees at the very end of the yard. Pipe in hand, she was treading contentedly through the bushes with the watering pipe in hand. 

Prithvi closed his eyes for a moment, trying to bring his breathing back to normal.

Then the disturbed eyes flew open again and impatiently sought out her petite form amongst the flora.

Yes…there she was…..watering the plants diligently… and also talking to them the way she did when she was confident that no one was close enough to overhear.

He slowly retracted his steps and then turned and began striding towards the connecting gate.

"Prithvi, the old man had called up on your cell phone!"

Prithvi stopped just a few paces away from the small gate and looked around at Sankatmochan who was standing on the steps outside the door.  

"What did he say?" Prithvi asked distractedly.

"He's waiting for you at the hotel. Apparently, the driver refused to wait in the town because he was afraid of being attacked by mobs and left soon after dropping the old man with his friends."

"Hmmm.…I'll go to the agency and pick up Baba myself,"

"It would be the safest thing for him," Sankatmochan agreed.

Prithvi nodded curtly and started to walk towards the main gate. Then to Sankatmochan's bewilderment, he came to a halt and turned and looked towards Vrindavan's backyard with a strangely troubled gaze.

After a few seconds, he sighed and swung around and strode out of the gate.

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

Nandini examined the diseased leaf of a rose bush. She would need to ask grandfather for some remedies for the plant. She was trying to break off a dried up and infected portion, when without warning, a familiar tingling in the back gave her pause, and she spun on the spot eagerly.

Sure enough, Prithvi was there…but he was walking away from Ayodhya's backyard towards the front of the house. Had he come looking for her….

Her heart skipped a beat momentarily with the insane but wonderful thought that he had left only to open the connecting gate and come to her. She waited expectantly for several long minutes before feeling compelled to give up her already weak hopes. He must have visited his backyard for some other reason, definitely not for her. Lost in disappointment, she transferred her attention to the adjoining bush.

Apart from the tumultuous time when she had been falling in love, she had always preferred to face the truth than comfort herself with delusions. But still, it wasn't easy to accept that she was only a small part of his life when she so deeply and irrevocably in love with him.

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