Rishabh halted at the periphery of the shaded area, and intently examined the occupants of each table. No bullying elements were in sight. But a friend was.

Prithvi was sitting by himself at a table in a peaceful corner, scanning a book and scribbling in a large notepad occasionally. Some of the girls seated at adjacent tables were casting doe eyes at him, patting their hair frequently, talking loudly to their friends and giggling noisily. Their attention-grabbing efforts were going to waste though.   

Rishabh swiftly walked to a vacant table and dumped his bag on it. He yanked its zip open and began pulling out and rifling through his books one by one. He hoped he’d carried it today.

He hadn’t seen Prithvi for more than two weeks now. Plans to meet him in the hospital had initially been disrupted by his own ill health. Then his mother had arrived in Shamli for a flying visit. During that time, she’d learnt about his hospitalisation in February, and the fact that he had not reimbursed Prithvi for the expenses incurred for his treatment….

Later, he’d stated his plan to visit Prithvi in Ayodhya while having lunch with his friends. The mere mention of Prithvi’s name had evoked serious irritation in Nandini. It had baffled him, and Vrinda and Nishi’s virulent hisses hadn’t helped clear his confusion. But he’d understood enough to shelve the plan temporarily. He’d warily asked about Prithvi  yesterday, and Nandini had readily spoken on the topic and also shared her exasperation at Prithvi's disregard for his health. She'd looked a little depressed while talking, but an intense affection for Prithvi had been evident in her voice and visage all the same. 

It had puzzled Rishabh. Fortunately, Nishi had taken pity on him and furtively disclosed the truth. 

The news hadn’t surprised him. In truth, it had felt like a completely natural development. It somehow felt right that those two be together…

“Yes!” Rishabh exclaimed under his breath on locating the cheque in a big notebook. He swung the bag onto his shoulder, and holding the book in one hand, hurried towards Prithvi.

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

Prithvi stared amusedly at the cheque that Rishabh was uncomfortably extending to him.

“I don’t usually charge for sharing information about my health,” he said ironically.

Rishabh, who had spent the last five minutes making enquiries on the subject of Prithvi’s operation and recovery, chuckled and sheepishly said, “I’ve been walking around with it for the past two weeks. You helped me out during the hospitalisation in February. I should have repaid you sooner. I’m sorry it took so long. I didn’t have the money at that time, and I… didn’t want to trouble my mother…because we’ve been facing financial problems. But the situation is better now, so we wanted to - ”

“Put the cheque away. If I expected repayment, I would have taken the money from you long ago,” Prithvi said impatiently.

“I can’t. My mother has become very sensitive in money matters since my father - I guess you know all about it….about my father being in prison for larceny,” Rishabh said miserably. “Nandini must have told you -”

“She hasn’t,” Prithvi murmured.

“Oh…well, my father cheated many people out of huge amounts of money,” Rishabh revealed in a low voice, speaking quickly to get the admission over with before he lost his nerve. “We lost almost everything. The notoriety was the worst part. When he was arrested, photos of our family came in all the newspapers. It happened a month before I was to join college. I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t even want to leave my house. The hostility… the taunts….it was just too much. But it was my mother’s dream that I get admission in this institution. She forced me to join the course. She’s juggling many jobs to make sure my fees and other expenses are met. I just wish I could do something for her,” he said dejectedly, and then waited mechanically for the offerings of sympathy.

The questions came like splash of cold water.

“Have you met your father after he was imprisoned? Asked him for an explanation?” Prithvi asked curiously.

Rishabh shook his head vehemently. “I’ve not met him since he - I don’t want to see him again. I don’t want to have anything to do with him.”

“Prison doesn’t do much good for a person’s lifespan,” Prithvi remarked casually. “Tomorrow, if your father dies there, you’ll be left with questions and there might not be anyone who knows the answers. You’ll probably spend the rest of your life wondering if you should have given him a chance to explain.”

“But I don’t want people to think I support him. They should know – people should know that I’m not like him.”

“People weren’t there to share your humiliation,” Prithvi mocked. “People won’t be around to share your guilt either. That will remain your own private treasure till you die. Sounds appealing?”

Rishabh stared mutely at the littered table. Nandini had had this conversation with him several times. She too had encouraged him to visit his father. But not like this… not in this harsh manner.

“Look, I know you expected me to sympathise. But I honestly don’t see any reason to,” Prithvi shrugged. “Your parents are alive. You can look forward to the day you’ll be able to get a job and help your mother out financially. You can make sure she enjoys rest and comfort for years to come. And your father -,” he paused momentarily, and then resumed in a flat tone. “You can see him if you wish to. You can talk to him and ask him whatever you want. If you don’t want to recognize the value of all that, then sure, carry on with the numbskull behaviour.”

The rising anger in Prithvi’s gaze baffled Rishabh. Then he abruptly remembered Nandini - or was it one of the other girls - mentioning that Prithvi was an orphan.

Orphan.

Rishabh bravely attempted to imagine a world that didn’t contain his father. His boisterous, strict but affectionate father.

He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. 

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

“It’s really exciting that your grandfather actually knows Janki Bhargava,” Nishi grinned.

“You think she’ll visit your home this time too after her lecture?” Vrinda asked eagerly.

“I don’t think she’ll have the time,” Nandini mulled regretfully. “She has become a lot more famous and busy in the last seven years”

“I wish some film stars were also among his childhood friends,” Vrinda said wistfully.

 “Grandpa would have disowned any friend who entered the film industry,” Nandini laughed. “He believes it’s full of sin and depravity. And that people who work in movies don’t have any morals.”

“My father has the same opinion,” Nishi revealed ruefully.

 “My parents will kill me if I tell them I want to become an actress,” Vrinda chuckled. 

They collectively looked at Rishabh for his inputs. He was gazing broodingly into a glass of water.

Nishi jabbed a finger into his forearm. “Hey! Where are you?”

Rishabh yelped and massaged his thin hand. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

“Are you okay?” Nandini enquired. “You’ve been very quiet today.”

“I’m fine. Just thinking about something Prithvi said when I met him an hour ago.”

“What did he say? Did he insult you? Or behave badly?” Nandini asked anxiously even though she didn’t want anything – anything - to mar her good mood.

This was one of the most beautiful and unforgettable days of her life. She’d not been able to stop laughing and smiling since morning, and was half convinced that her feet were still floating a few inches above the ground. She’d even pinched herself on the way to her class to confirm that she had not dreamed of those incredible moments. They had danced on the road…Prithvi had actually danced with her. She wanted to remain in that enchanted space forever… 

“Not at all! He helped me actually,” Rishabh said slowly.

Relieved, Nandini didn’t pry further. “Where did you meet him?” she asked tentatively, and then turned pink on hearing her friends giggle.

“He’s sitting at one of those tables in the grounds, reading a book and jotting down notes,” Rishabh answered, straight-faced.

“What are you waiting for?” Vrinda asked keenly, nudging Nandini. “Go right now!”

Nandini amusedly asked, “Go where?”

“You can’t let Prithvi sit there all alone, foolish girl!” Vrinda said exasperatedly. “Don’t you know there are some female vultures roaming in this campus?!”

“I'm more concerned for them than him,” Nandini said wryly. “Rishabh, you said he was reading something and making notes, wasn't he? Believe me, Vrinda... he doesn't like anyone interrupting him when he's busy. I think he won't even know if the whole world goes up in smoke when he is with his books and phone and laptop and all those kinds of stupid things,” she said tartly, and then flushed with embarrassment.

Her voice had turned too resentful towards the end, and now her friends were gawking at her in surprise.  

“You’re jealous of his books and phone and stuff?” Nishi laughed.

“I really didn’t think you’d be one of those girls who want to be the centre of attention all the time,” Rishabh said with mild censure.

“I think it’s cute and romantic,” Vrinda giggled.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Nandini weakly muttered, “What I wanted to say was…he – he likes his space. And I like mine,” she announced more firmly.

“Wow. That's a wise attitude. Very unlike you,” Nishi observed, and squealed as Nandini playfully tried to push her off the seat.

“Nandini, you know what....since you get jealous of inanimate objects, it is better that you don’t go and see the way other girls are behaving around him,” Rishabh chuckled.

Nandini’s grin dimmed as she looked at him. “What do you mean?” she asked uncertainly. 

Rishabh immediately regretted his comment. He had not intended to make her anxious. “Nothing serious!” he said hastily, “You know how it is…. some females act a little gaga around him. That’s all I meant. Prithvi is totally ignoring them.”

“Oh I’m pretty sure he is enjoying the attention,” Nandini said stiffly. “Let them carry on. I wouldn’t want to spoil his fun.”

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

Every person passing by Vrindavan halted at its gate for a moment and greeted the elderly man in the courtyard with a reverent Namaste.

Bhoothnath, who was sitting in a cane chair, responded to all of them by vaguely raising his hand in benediction. On a normal day, he would have chatted with them, but today, his thoughts were elsewhere.

He hadn’t recovered from the unpleasant incident in the temple, when that loud and crass specimen Neelu had brought a marriage proposal for Nandini.

How could that woman think he would consider marrying off his grandchild into a money-obsessed business family with no exceptional lineage to speak of?

And to make it worse, the boy wanted to join movies!! Movies!!

The temerity of the woman to bring that proposal! He had almost cursed her in anger.

But the encounter had one good result. It was making him think deeply about the kind of groom and family he wanted for his granddaughter.

Once Nandini had completed her college, he would begin the search for a good alliance. He would thoroughly investigate the family and its antecedents, and make sure the potential groom was a very good human being.

But it was difficult to tell with people these days. After all, they were living in the Kali Yuga. The Age of lies, hypocrisy, violence and debauchery. The vilest souls could be masquerading as righteous human beings….

It would be best if he could have some time to evaluate the potential groom’s nature and character. It had to be someone good-hearted, responsible, caring and capable. Someone with no bad habits or corrupt tendencies. Someone like…

Bhoothnath gazed pensively at the adjoining yard.

The idea hadn’t struck him before. And it wouldn’t have entered his mind in the future as well if he hadn’t learnt that Prithvi was Aditya’s son. He knew now that the boy’s ancestry was good. Aditya and Priyamvada had belonged to good and cultured families.

Money would come and go. A noble nature, fine heredity and a pristine family background were more crucial. And Prithvi was courageous and tough as well. He had saved Nandini’s life twice. Yet, Nandini was barely cordial towards the boy at present.  But that animosity might diminish over time.

He would make careful enquiries about Prithvi’s financial situation and prospects. And the horoscopes had to be compatible. Twenty seven or more of the total thirty six gunas had to match. That was extremely important.

Bhoothnath deliberated that he would have to be very discreet while collecting the required information. In any case, he had to wait for two or three years to broach the subject openly as the children were still studying. And life had taught him that situations could undergo a sea change in a jiffy. He wasn’t going to share his thoughts with anyone until he felt the moment was right.

However, if the alliance did materialise, instinct told him that he wouldn’t have to worry about Nandini’s happiness and wellbeing ever again.

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

Nandini walked quickly through a maze of tables, clutching a paper parcel in her hands. The distance to Prithvi seemed endless, and she felt as though as everyone was staring at her as she made her way to the table in the corner. Everyone except the person she was heading towards, because he was busy twiddling with his phone. There were no books in sight. His bag was on the table, and a sheet of paper was peeking out from underneath it.

The prince condescended to look up from the phone only when she was just three feet away. Self-admiration gleamed in his eyes as he smugly observed, “You just can’t survive without seeing me.”

“I came to bring you this,” Nandini said haughtily, putting up her nose in the air, and kept the parcel on the table. She sat down opposite him and opened up the package to reveal a hot samosa. “Only one was left,” she added apologetically.

“That’s hard to believe. This looks like something you made,” he retorted, studying the fried, triangular pastries stuffed with a spicy filling of potatoes and peas.

“What do you mean?!” she said indignantly.

Without responding, he picked up the samosa and bit off its top, then grimaced and dumped it back on the paper. “And it tastes just as bad,” he stated offensively.

Her resentment inched up several degrees. He had danced with her on the road few hours back, and then had promptly gone back to being his typically infuriating self.

But she withheld an angry response. There was a hint of strain in his demeanour at the moment. Something was bothering him. And he wasn’t going to share the problem with her.

She resignedly pulled over the paper that was cradling the samosa. It grazed the side of the sheet poking out from underneath Prithvi’s bag. She glanced at it absently, and a small frown line appeared on her forehead.

Some digits were scrawled on the page. Digits that suspiciously looked like the beginning of a mobile number. She tugged the paper out and stared at it. It was a mobile number alright, written by a female hand for sure.

“Whose phone number is this?” she asked.

“A girl’s,” Prithvi replied unhelpfully. “She wanted to meet up over coffee.”

He vaguely remembered a giggly and breathless voice babbling incessantly when he’d been absorbed in work. It had said something about leaving a phone number behind. His eyes had remained on the page while he asked the voice to peddle her wares in a red light area instead of pissing him off. A horrified gasp had resounded in his ears and then he’d thankfully been left alone.

But he didn’t have to deprive himself of an opportunity to see the wild cat’s face transform into a gorgeous furnace by telling her that.

“Who was it?” she asked angrily.

“Don’t remember her name. Or face,” he mused. “But she had never ending legs and really huge – hey! Why’d you tear it?” he asked in surprise.

“You won’t need it,” she snapped, distrustfully reviewing the adjacent tables. No one matching the girl’s description was in the vicinity.

Suddenly feeling that she was being laughed at, Nandini quickly turned back in her seat and looked suspiciously at the male sitting on the other side of the table.

Prithvi’s features were reassuringly solemn. Satisfied, she picked up the decapitated samosa. 

“What’re you doing?” he frowned.

She paused in the middle of raising it to her lips. “Finishing the job,” she answered bemusedly.

“How can you eat someone’s leftover food?” he demanded, revolted. He’d not been able to do it even when he and Sankatmochan were battling a poverty-stricken existence on the streets.

Nandini laughed at his disgusted expression. “There is nothing wrong with eating the leftover food of someone you love. Especially if you love that someone as much as I love you,” she whispered teasingly, batting her long eyelashes. She chuckled again, and proceeded to take a big bite of the samosa.

It was quite delicious. The crisp crust was her favourite part. She’d attempted to make these at home once. It had been a disastrous experience, Nandini recollected while munching enthusiastically.

“I…”

Her mind’s focus instantly swung from an image of charred eatables to the strangely flushed face of her companion.

Tenderness and confusion were mingled in Prithvi’s gaze, and she got the impression that he was trying to reach a decision of some sort.

Nandini swallowed the last bit of the samosa. “Did you say something?” she enquired, crumpling up the oily paper and tossing it lightly into the closest wastebasket.

Prithvi hesitated, then shook his head faintly.

“The institute has changed beyond recognition.”

The voice startled Nandini, and she turned to see Kedar Narayan approaching the table, smiling at them both. 

Astonished, she stood up automatically. “Uncle…you – here- I didn’t know you were coming,” she mumbled.

“Prithvi called me up in the morning. Said he wanted to meet me. He offered to drop by my office but I told him I’d rather come here,” Kedar said as he drew up a chair and arranged it at an angle from which he could look at both Nandini and Prithvi without straining his already aching neck muscles. “I haven’t come to this campus for years. I thought it would be nice to see it again,” he added, nostalgically examining the sprawling grounds and sombre buildings.

Nandini glared at Prithvi. Why hadn’t he told her! She could have avoided this awkward situation. And what would have happened if Kedar uncle had arrived a minute ago and heard her declaring her love for the brat?!

Prithvi mischeviously mouthed “surprise!” and winked at her.

She crossly turned her face away. Unclenching her teeth with difficulty, Nandini politely told Kedar, “I’ll bring you a cold drink from the canteen, uncle. Or would you prefer tea? And something to eat?”

“I had tea at the office. I don’t want anything at all,” Kedar assured, motioning her to sit down.

Nandini obeyed hesitantly. She was starting to feel nervous. Outsiders were not generally allowed in the campus. If the security guards at the gate had permitted Kedar to enter, they must have received a go-ahead from someone in the administration. Prithvi must have wanted to speak to him quite urgently to go to all that trouble….

Kedar looked at Prithvi, and without any preamble, watchfully said, “I’ve already revealed everything I know. I don’t know what -”

“You told us everything that you felt would be pleasant for us to hear,” Prithvi incised dryly.

Kedar gaped at him.

“Something went seriously wrong between our families after the marriage of my parents,” Prithvi continued evenly. “I want to know exactly what happened.”

Nandini felt bewildered and frightened by the conversation. What had caused Prithvi to believe something major had gone wrong between her family and his? And why wasn't uncle denying it?

Kedar looked down and studied the nicotine stains on his fingers for several moments. Then he muttered, “Siddharth didn’t want your family to be close to his.”

When he didn’t get a verbal reaction, Kedar glanced at the youngsters.

Nandini was visibly dismayed. Prithvi looked grim yet calm.

Keeping his eyes on Aditya’s son, Kedar reluctantly said, “Your parents had shared their elopement plan with Siddharth in advance. He told me afterwards that it caused an argument. Because he didn’t like the way they were going about it. He believed Aditya and Priyamvada were being short-sighted and selfish in going against their families and fabricating that nasty story. He wanted them to think of the repercussions. The terrible effect it would have on the reputation and happiness of their respective families. He was especially concerned about Rajyavardhan Singh. Priyamvada was her father’s darling, and Siddharth was convinced that the old man would be traumatized on hearing the supposed misfortune that had befallen his child.”

“He told them to think about Indrajit too. Tried to make them understand how awful it would be for the boy to hear those terrible accusations against his father. He also intuited that their decisions would affect the happiness of any children they might have in the future,” he said quietly, looking at Prithvi. “I don’t know how he knew it then. But he did…”

“His arguments made no difference. Your parents were too much in love. They sincerely believed they wouldn’t need anyone else. They had made a decision and they were going to stick to it.” 

“Siddharth was generally easygoing. But he had rigid ideas regarding the importance of family in a person’s life. He couldn’t dream of choosing an outsider over his family. And therefore, he couldn’t understand how your parents could cut off connections with their loved ones so ruthlessly. He felt if they could behave that cruelly with their parents and other blood relations, there wouldn’t be any limits to the callousness they might show outsiders. He was seeing a whole different side to their characters, and it angered and upset him. And that was the first occasion on which he decided to end the friendship.”

“But they became friends again,” Nandini pointed out desperately. “Doesn’t that mean -”

“The first occasion?” Prithvi asked Kedar roughly, cutting across her words.

Kedar nodded at him in confirmation. “It’s true that Siddharth and Aditya patched up their differences. And after Aditya died, Siddharth did whatever he could to give you some hours of a normal childhood. But eventually...it went wrong again.”

Nandini’s freezing hands clamped tightly in her lap.  

Kedar gazed at her, and then looked at Prithvi again. “Are you sure you want to hear the truth?” he asked. “I know people say it is beautiful and all that rubbish. But in my personal experience, the truth is usually ugly and destructive and not worth knowing.”

Prithvi smiled jadedly. “I’ve listened to lies for most of my life. I can tell you they are no better.”

Kedar bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Okay then. I’ll tell you everything…”

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