Nandini entered the living room to ensure that there were no more vessels on the table. She was heading back to the kitchen when she saw an interesting sight.

Seated comfortably in a rocking chair, an elderly man was holding a novel far away from his face to read it.

She approached her grandfather and stood in front of him silently, hands on her hips.

Bhoothnath looked up nervously at her. Then he hastily picked up the gold-rimmed spectacles from his lap and placed them on his face.

"If I see you reading without the glasses again, I will not buy any more books for you, grandpa," Nandini warned.

"I'd forgotten this time. It won't happen again," Bhoothnath said glumly, then mumbled something that sounded like 'bossier than your grandmother'.

Nandini chuckled as she returned to the kitchen.

A lanky teenager was wiping the surface of the granite platform. She walked to him and snatched the cleaning cloth from his hand.

"I'll do this. You go and rest."

"I reached home at two in the afternoon. You reached after seven in the evening," Prakash reminded her sternly, trying to grab the cloth back. "And you also walked to that temple today morning. So, you're the one who needs to rest."

Nandini hid the cloth behind her back and gravely said, "Yes, but let me tell what could happen if you don't let me do this. You will keep working in the kitchen while I relax, and as the months go by, you will start to resent me. And one day...one day you will stop making tea and special dishes for me," she said with growing horror, keeping the back of her palm against her forehead in an attitude of despair. "How will I survive then, Pikku!"

Prakash slapped a hand against his forehead. "How much drama can God have stuffed into one human being," he groaned.

Giggling, Nandini pushed her grumbling brother out of the kitchen. "Go to your room and think about what delicious dish you're going to make for dinner tomorrow."

Watching her children, Sarojini placed the last dried plate in the steel stand, and laughingly said, "I hope both of you have these kind of fights every day."

Nandini grinned and began the task of thoroughly cleaning the platform. For two whole hours after her return from office, no one had said anything that made her want to run off into the night. If she could go to sleep without having her mood spoilt by ghastly discussions and arguments, she would be the most grateful person on earth.

"Did you think about what I said?" Sarojini asked tentatively, keeping her voice low so as to avoid being overheard by her father-in-law and son.

Nandini stopped cleaning abruptly, gripped by anger and despair. She shouldn't have hoped...

"I gave you my answer yesterday," she said tautly, moving the cloth quickly over the granite.

"Without considering it for a second!"

"I can think about it for a hundred years, but my answer won't change," Nandini retorted irately.

She walked to the basin and began washing the cloth.

Frustrated, Sarojini walked to her daughter and angrily whispered, "Why are you being so stubborn? What is wrong with this proposal? The boy is just three years older. He is good looking, well-educated and has a secure job. And the family is open-minded. They don't have any problem with letting you work after marriage."

"Could you get me their pictures? I would like to worship them," Nandini said sarcastically, tossing the cloth on the platform.

Sarojini exasperatedly said, "Nandini, listen to -"

But her daughter had already stalked out of the kitchen.

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

Haimavati reviewed the large bedchamber.

Reclining against the cushioned headboard of the bed, Priyamvada was immersed in reading a book in the light of the bedside lamps. The crystal jug of water and the flask containing hot coffee were within her reach.

Haimavati walked to the bed and gently said, "Your Highness, would you need anything else tonight?"

"No, Dai maa," Priyamvada murmured. "You can leave."

When Haimavati did not do so, Priyamvada glanced up at her.

"You have something to say?" she asked kindly, putting down the book.

Haimavati bowed her head apprehensively. "At today's party, I paid close attention to the two young ladies you've shortlisted."

"And you don't favour either of them," Priyamvada concluded wryly.

"I'm afraid not, Your Highness," Haimavati admitted unhappily. "They are lovely women with a good lineage. But they are not worthy."

"Dai maa, I've told you before...I'm not looking for prospective brides for Prithvi," Priyamvada said patiently. "I want him to find love and romance again and enjoy life...just like the other men of his age and class. I don't have any other long-term plans. And these are the only two women who have been able to establish some sort of a bond with Prithvi in the past four years. I believe they will be able to bring happiness to his life if they receive the right guidance...which I will provide."

"But your plan could backfire. Your son is very...strong-headed," Haimavati said carefully. "If anything goes wrong, it's difficult to know how he would react. Also, if one of those women succeeds in winning his heart, and they wish to get married, then..."

"At that point, if I think it will be a good match for him and our family, I will let them go ahead. If not, I will break them up," Priyamvada stated, unconcerned. "I've done it before to save him from that girl in India...and I can do it over and over again if required."

Haimavati heaved a sigh of relief.

Priyamvada smiled at her. "Dai maa, I can't predict what horrors or joys are waiting for my family back in India. But I know for a fact that within months from now, my son's life will be exactly as I have dreamt for him. You don't have to worry about anything. Just wait for the games to begin...."

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

Nandini checked the messages on her cell phone and replied to most of them. Then, after putting the instrument on silent mode, she walked to the table and kept it on the small bit of surface that was available.

The table was largely occupied by mystery novels. She had always loved to read, but now she had become a voracious reader. While purchasing spy thrillers for her grandfather, she had begun buying books for herself too and had also registered at a small library near her office. Her favourite genre was mystery, while the genre that she avoided at all costs was romance.

The engrossing stories – so far removed from the reality of her world - had become her refuge from the tensions in her life.

The pressure to give her consent to get married had increased steadily in the past year and a half, and it had become intolerable in the last seven or eight months. The hours she spent at home had become the most stressful parts of her days. She looked forward to leaving for office in the morning and dreaded her return to the house. If this continued for long, she would end up asking the company to give her accommodation in the office premises itself.

The weekends were the worst, with well-meaning neighbours and relatives joining her mother's campaign. So, she looked for excuses to be out of the house on Saturdays and Sundays. Her best friends usually came to her rescue, just as they had for this coming Sunday. Nishi's parents had received passes for a famous dance troupe's performance in a town that was about two hours away. They were not interested in the event, and had given the passes to Nishi.

And so, a plan had been made. She, Nishi and Vrinda would leave from Shamli by eight in the morning on Sunday. They would attend the performance, have lunch outside, roam around the town for some time, and return home before dusk. Even if things didn't go exactly according to plan, it would be wonderful to be out of the house for the whole day...

Nandini tensed up as she heard her mother come upstairs. When the systematic emotional torture had begun, she had often made the mistake of approaching her mother after a fight and apologising for speaking rudely. Then she had learnt the hard way that any attempt from her side to make amends was taken as a sign that she was ready to be nagged about marriage. After that, irrespective of how guilty she felt, she maintained a distance until her mother took the first step to mend fences.

And so, on this occasion too, Nandini didn't turn when her mother entered her room.

Sarojini walked to the table and picked up a wide-toothed wooden comb from a plastic box kept on the upper right corner of the table.

"Your hair looks untidy. Let me comb and plait it," she told her daughter's stiff profile.

Nandini stopped fiddling with the books. Without looking at her mother, she pulled up the chair and sat down.

Sarojini began to gently comb her daughter's glossy, lush hair that ended slightly below the shoulder blades. She sighed on remembering a time when the beautiful hair had been very long as well.

"I wish you would let it grow again," Sarojini said wistfully.

"Even this length seems too much," Nandini said in a low voice.

Sarojini stopped running the comb through the silken locks, and severely said, "Don't even think about making it shorter."

"Okay, okay," Nandini mumbled.

"Hmm...on Sunday, will you return home after lunch?"

"I'm not sure."

"I think Nishi and Vrinda might want to do some shopping...since they behave like normal women of their age," Sarojini said tartly while braiding her daughter's hair into a thick plait. "If that happens, buy something for yourself too for once."

"I don't need new clothes. I have more than enough."

"Fine, but if you buy any sarees for me, I will donate them," Sarojini warned.

"I can't make any promises," Nandini said primly.

With mock anger, Sarojini gave a playful pat on her daughter's head

Nandini grinned, but the smile didn't stay on her lips for long.

These light-hearted, cute moments with her mother had been so common when she was younger. Now they rarely made an appearance, and she couldn't enjoy them fully either. Because her mother wouldn't allow the peace to continue. Tomorrow morning, the process of driving her insane would start again.

This was how her life was going to be for the coming years until her loved ones could accept her decision to be alone for the rest of her life.

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

Wrapped in a black shawl, Nandini went up to the terrace. She closed the door to the terrace and put a padlock on it. With the key in hand, she crossed over to Ayodhya's side. She caught the door's handle and pulled gingerly. The door opened without resistance.

Relieved, Nandini crossed the threshold and closed the door from the inside, careful to not make a sound. Then she descended the stairs almost on tiptoe to the first floor, where a dim light was burning, and headed to one of the rooms.

Upon entering it, Nandini bolted the door securely. She switched on the light and gazed at the empty, spotlessly clean room for a minute. Then she turned the fan on, keeping it at minimum speed, and switched off the light.

Nandini walked to the bed. She kept the key under the pillow, and lay down on the mattress, using the shawl as a blanket. She was asleep within minutes.

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

Grishma parked the car a few metres away from the wrought iron gates. She peered at the rear-view mirror. Apart from the cream that her skin needed to stay moisturized in this weather, there was hardly any make-up on her face. Her long, wavy black hair was left open. Underneath the jacket, she was wearing a pretty green top and black pants. Her boots were stylish but not flamboyant. Satisfied, she got down from the car.

God alone knew if her efforts were going to pay off, Grishma thought ruefully. But whatever happened, she would have a funny story to narrate in the years to come...about the time when, instead of doing her best to look gorgeous, she had attempted to look simple and natural each time she met the man of her dreams.

But it was the only bit of useful information that she had gleaned from her conversations with Anika. She couldn't alter her features to look less beautiful or behave awfully or be pedestrian on the whole like the female in India who had apparently held Prithvi's interest for a while. But she could try to embrace simplicity in her everyday life.

Grishma offered a nod to the guards at the huge wrought iron gates, and then walked slowly towards the beautiful chateau. She could sense their curiosity about her recent tendency to leave the car outside and walk to the mansion. The reason she had given the family was that she liked to walk on this picturesque path that led to the chateau. Everyone would laugh if they found out that she had adopted the practice because she liked to have a little time to gather her emotions before meeting Prithvi.

She was not a very emotional or sentimental person. But the news about Prithvi's family's plans to move back to India permanently had devastated her. Feeling weak and grief-stricken, she had planned to leave for New York to hide her sorrow.

And then Prithvi's mother had performed a miracle.

Priyamvada, who was the most amazing – and intimidating – woman she had ever met, had spoken to their gang yesterday during the party. She had asked all of them to visit India soon, so that when Prithvi returned from his mountain retreat, they could give him a surprise. And Priyamvada had also insisted that they would have to stay with the family for at least four months.

It had been a light-hearted, casual conversation and Priyamvada had spoken kindly to each member of the group, Grishma recalled. Still, she had felt certain that the invitation was directed mainly towards her. She was afraid to give it too much importance, but her heart had begun to hope. After that, only Prithvi's absence had marred her pleasure in the party. Or it would have been one of the best evenings of her life...

Grishma paused and smiled.

Across the large lawns, a man in a dark brown jacket, white shirt and blue jeans was strolling on the path that ran parallel to hers. With his hands buried in the jacket's pockets, he was gazing at the ground as he advanced towards the chateau.

She would give a lot to find out what Prithvi was thinking about, Grishma mulled as her tender gaze followed him. But it was impossible to know what was going on in that magnificent head...

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

Prithvi was nearing the main entrance of the chateau when he saw a person coming towards the doors from the inside.

He spun fluidly on the spot and started to hurry away.

An angry voice commanded him to stop.

Prithvi sighed and turned reluctantly. Then with a scrap of hope, he asked, "Can you wait for a bit? I'll grab my earplugs from my room and be back in two minutes."

"Where were you yesterday night?" Indrajit asked sharply, marching towards him.

Surprised, Prithvi pointed at his own face. "Are you telling me you don't see the golden glow on this impossibly handsome face?" he asked indignantly, and then displayed the back of his hands. "And the fresh beauty of these perfect hands. This magic doesn't happen by itself - well, most of it does," he confessed modestly. "But experts always recommend a little extra care."

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

Grishma grimaced slightly on seeing Indrajit.

She had grown very close to Prithvi's family in the past year, and had gradually become accustomed to Indrajit's presence. But no amount of familiarity could change the fact that he was the weirdest person she knew, and that he despised her and the rest of the gang for supposedly befouling Prithvi's life. Every time Indrajit spotted them, his expression suggested that they were venomous insects crawling around Prithvi's feet, and he needed to grind them to pulp before they poisoned his brother.

As if she or any of the others had any influence on Prithvi, Grishma contemplated dolefully.

But to be fair, Indrajit had the same attitude towards almost everyone. Only with three people did he seem very different, and one of them was Prithvi.

And among those three people, Prithvi was the only one who pulled his leg at every given opportunity. She joined him at times to tease Indrajit, but restricted her contribution to a few harmless one-liners. She didn't have the courage to go beyond that. But Prithvi could get away with anything when it came to Indrajit. He was the only human being on the planet who could do so...

She could tell that Indrajit was giving Prithvi one of his typical sermons, and as a friend, it was her duty to interrupt it despite the grave danger involved.

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

Infuriated, Indrajit said, "We will be returning to India soon. Mother wanted to say goodbye to her friends, and that is why she hosted the dinner party. She might not have asked you specifically but she did want you to be present. Once we reach India, you will run off to that dirty shed in the mountains and stay there for a month or more. Is that solitude not sufficient for you? Couldn't you have been with the family for once during an occasion?" he asked furiously. "Was it that impossible for you?

Prithvi gave him a surprised look "It really was. Thank you for understanding. Good to know I can count on you. And it was great to have this talk," he said gratefully while walking backwards. "We should have these chit-chat sessions more often. Same time tomorrow then? Come prepared with more precious insights into my nature. I enjoy hearing them," he encouraged his red-faced brother, and was about to turn away when he saw a woman walking up the driveway.

Indrajit, who was on the verge of issuing a harsher reprimand, followed his gaze and instantly grew more displeased.

"Good morning, handsome! And Indrajit," Grishma added chirpily.

"Aren't you supposed to be preparing for your New York trip?" Prithvi asked doubtfully.

"Cancelled those plans," Grishma said carelessly. "I want to be here to say goodbye when you guys leave."

Prithvi gave his poker-faced brother a pained look. "Do you see how she much she likes you? Why can't you just admit she's the reason you wake up every morning?"

Disgusted, Indrajit snapped, "I have told you I dislike such jokes."

"It doesn't have to be a joke, Indrajit," Grishma said flirtatiously.

As revulsion filled Indrajit's pallid face, Prithvi cautiously advised, "Step back, Grimy. He's about to vomit all over you."

"I am not. I am in perfectly good health," Indrajit said stiffly. "Anyway, I don't wish to speak of family matters before outsiders. We will continue this discussion later."

"You will have to drug me and put me in a straitjacket first," Prithvi informed him politely.

Grishma laughed. "Let him do that after today's archery sessions, Prithvi. The others are already on their way to the club."

Prithvi glanced thoughtfully at Indrajit, "Do you really have a lot more thoughts to share with me?"

"Yes," Indrajit said tightly.

"That's settled then. Grimy, we're going to shoot arrows for the next three hours," Prithvi declared. "And please try to send one through my skull."

As Indrajit's frown became fiercer, Grishma chortled.

Then manners forced her to say, "Indrajit, do you want to come along? You do know archery, don't you?" she added doubtfully on seeing an odder-than-usual twitch on his visage.

"He's very good at it," Prithvi responded briefly. "He just doesn't enjoy it much. Come on...let's go."

Relief and some other sentiment flashed on Indrajit's face as he watched his brother stride away. Then he sneered with derision at Grishma, who was running after Prithvi, and marched back into the chateau

Grishma coiled a hand casually around Prithvi's arm as they walked towards the gate.

Prithvi halted and started to scan the area.

"What are you looking for?" Grishma asked.

"Your aspiring boyfriends hiding in the tree-tops with binoculars," he said seriously.

Flushing, Grishma removed her hand, and they began to walk again.

She flippantly added, "I'm a little worried about that actually. After you leave, whom will I use as an excuse for turning down weirdos?"

"I'll ask Indrajit to stay back. He can easily scare away all those poor fellows and their families - and you – and your family," Prithvi reflected, and grinned at her.

Grishma laughed.

A gentle voice beckoned Prithvi from somewhere behind them.

They turned to see Priyamvada walking towards them with a radiant smile on her beautiful face. Haimavati and two maids were waiting at a corner of the stone building. The queen had evidently been spending time in the gardens behind the chateau. Apart from Priyamvada, all the women were clad in thick jackets and sweaters. The queen was wearing only a light black overcoat over her pastel pink saree.

Priyamvada gazed approvingly at the lovely young lady standing near her son. They looked reasonably good together, and appeared to be compatible. Her confidence in her plans rose by several notches...

Grishma straightened her posture and smiled nervously at Priyamvada. But she did not move from her spot since she had not been summoned.

Prithvi strode towards his mother to meet her mid-way, lightly saying, "Good morning, Queen Mother."

Prithvi was the most adorable son, and his nickname for his mother was so sweet, Grishma reflected lovingly. She had screaming matches with her mother on a regular basis. But she had never seen Prithvi lose his temper or show the slightest rudeness towards Priyamvada. Yet, it was impossible to label him as a typical momma's boy. If he had been one, she would have preferred to jump off a cliff than fall in love with him.

She couldn't hear the conversation between mother and son. But it was always heart-warming to watch them interact with each other.

"Good morning, Prithvi," Priyamvada greeted her son graciously. "What time did you reach home last night?"

"At about one."

"And now you're on your way to..."

"The archery club," he replied politely.

Priyamvada felt pleased. Then she concernedly said, "I heard Kadambari is suffering from a cold and you have asked her to take rest till she recovers fully. Since she won't be cooking...I wanted to know if you've had breakfast."

Prithvi briefly said, "I haven't."

"Prithvi, the cook is very good. Can I ask him to prepare breakfast for you?" Priyamvada enquired caringly.

"That won't be necessary," he assured.

Supressing a sigh, Priyamvada said, "You know I don't like it when you eat food from outside."

"You don't have to worry about that," Prithvi comforted her. "You know how it is, Queen Mother. I see you...speak to you...and then I lose the wish to eat anything to prolong my life. It's almost like magic. I'm leaving now. You have a good day," he said courteously, and strode away.

Priyamvada's face was blank for some moments, then she realised that Grishma was saying goodbye. She responded with a smile, and the girl rushed to walk along with Prithvi.

Forgetting about the women who were waiting for her permission to come forward, Priyamvada turned and walked into the chateau.

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

"That was a good lunch," Vrinda said happily while leaning back in her chair.

Nishi yawned. "I'm so full...I can't move. I'm going to stay back in this restaurant till tomorrow.

"I'll stay back with you," Nandini offered sleepily.

The three young women giggled. The first half of the day had been smashing. Ensconced in cushy seats, they had thoroughly enjoyed the troupe's Indo-western dance performance. After the event, they had come out of the beautiful auditorium and visited a big restaurant that was on the opposite side of the road. The food had been delicious, and glasses of spiced buttermilk had been the perfect way to end the meal.

When the bill was presented, Nandini snatched up the piece of paper and succeeded in making the payment despite vicious, and slightly violent, protests from the other two females at the table. Then there was another minor altercation when they forced her to take their share of the bill, and she refused to consider it.

Accompanied by a flurry of their scolding and abuses, which had become quite colourful with time, Nandini walked out of the restaurant.

Out in the bright sunlight, she faced her glowering friends and cheerfully asked, "Where do we go next?"

Vrinda smiled vindictively. "Shopping. Just for you."

Aghast, Nandini said, "No, please!"

"That's your punishment for what you did back there," Nishi stated grimly. "Unless you buy something for yourself, we will not head back to Shamli."

"Yes, and you have to choose smart, well-fitting clothes...and the colours have to be nice and bright," Vrinda warned. "I cannot tolerate more of these tent-like dresses and horrible colours," she shuddered.

"This is a good dress," Nandini said indignantly, looking down at her light blue embroidered short kurti and cream-coloured leggings. The stole, which had a mix of dark blue and off-white prints, was slightly faded, but it matched the outfit. That was more than enough.

"For someone who is thrice your age maybe," Nishi retorted.

"And two of you can fit inside that dress," Vrinda pointed out.

"I don't feel comfortable wearing clothes that are tighter than this," Nandini responded mulishly.

"And no one feels comfortable to see you dressed like a 60-year-old," Nishi rolled her eyes.

Ignoring her objections, they dragged her off to the bustling market place.

About twenty minutes later, Nandini was sitting in between her friends in a large air-conditioned store and looking unhappily at the growing pile of dresses in front of her.

She sincerely wished she had not reached for the bill in the restaurant.

She liked helping others pick out clothes but dreaded having to buy dresses for herself. Everyone thought she was trying to be careful with money. In reality, she had lost the ability to decide if a specific dress was better or worse than the others. Sometimes, she found it difficult to believe that colours and designs had made a difference to her once upon a time. Now every outfit seemed fine if it was for her, and she often had to rely on the opinions and expressions of her friends or family to know if she was choosing good clothes.

And today, she did not wish to ruin her mood by wasting time shopping for dresses. So, she used a strategy that had helped her a few times in the past. She selected one dress to make her friends happy, then began to casually make sincere recommendations for them, suggesting truthfully that a particular shade would look good on Vrinda...and the cut of another dress would suit Nishi...

Her friends resisted the pull of the clothes at first, then gradually succumbed. As soon as the attention was shifted from her, Nandini mentioned nonchalantly that she needed to buy some things for the house, and would be back in ten minutes. And taking advantage of their absorption, she hurried out of the shop. If she stayed back, the spotlight would eventually land on her again...

Now she could explore the market for a bit to pass the time. She had an approximate idea of how long her friends would take to make their choices. She just had to be careful to make a timely return to help Nishi and Vrinda select the best of their respective collections and make the payment. They would reprimand her for purchasing just one dress, but by that time, they would also be anxious to leave for Shamli...

Nandini strolled through unfamiliar roads, looking at the shops and people with interest, though she was careful to make note of landmarks so that she could make her way back to the store. She stopped at a few shops to buy small items for her family, and checked her watch and phone frequently.

She had reached a major junction when she saw a huge store to her left. The building was three storeys high and had a large compound. From the outfits exhibited in the enormous display window and the glamorous cars parked in front of it, the store obviously catered to the affluent section of society.

There was a gorgeous pale green silk saree on display. It would look good on her mother...

Nandini entered the gates and walked to the display window to look at the saree closely. It wouldn't do any harm to just ask about the price...

She glanced distractedly to her right as the store's door opened and a group of five people emerged. Two hulking men, who was undoubtedly bodyguards, and three women. Both the males and two of the ladies were clad in western formal attires. One of the women was holding two large shopping bags. The four of them were walking around a petite girl in a violet dress, forming a strange kind of circle around her.

Nandini couldn't stop staring at the group. Something about the people was triggering painful memories.

The grey and white uniforms of the women, and the vigilant, extremely respectful, eager-to-please way in which they were fluttering around the girl in the centre...

She had seen that specific kind of attentiveness only once before.

In Aadyabhoomi.

Starting to feel queasy, Nandini paid more attention to the girl in the centre.

She wasn't among those who could remember faces after a single meeting that happened years ago. So, it was mainly instinct that told her who the girl was...

The group had stopped at a maroon-red car parked in front of the store. One of the men opened the car's door. The girl in the violet outfit got into the car and the door was closed.

All of a sudden, Nandini found everyone staring at her. The men darted forward to stand protectively before the others.

Nandini didn't understand why they were frowning at her. Then she realised she had yelled out something...and that she was running towards them.

She stopped and stared at them with a wild confusion, breathing heavily.

The oldest woman in the group walked towards her, bypassing the men.

"Can I help you?" she asked serenely.

Nandini tried to speak but she'd forgotten the words. "She- she's – I know-"

"I'm afraid I don't understand," the woman said peacefully. "Do you have a request for the princess? Is it regarding any charitable organisation? Or are you in need of financial help?"

The last question evoked a sharp anger in Nandini.

Finally conquering her frenzied thoughts, she managed to say, "My name is Nandini. I know her...I know Rajeshwari. I want to speak to her. Please – please ask her," she requested haltingly.

The woman seemed dumbfounded by the declaration and plea, but then she said, "Please wait. I will ask the princess and let you know what she says."

Nandini nodded feverishly.

The woman spun around and walked to the car's window. The glass was lowered, and a very short conversation ensued.

Then the door opened suddenly, and Rajeshwari stepped out of the car. She stared incredulously at the young woman who had caused the scary commotion.

Nandini...but how could it be? It wasn't possible...

Nandini, in turn, was gazing at Rajeshwari in shock. The face was different from the image in her memory, but it was also unchanged in many ways. But she didn't have time to analyse. She had to say something quickly to convince Rajeshwari to talk to her. But how was she to begin the conversation....to ask the questions that had not let her rest for over four years...

Meanwhile, the emotions on Rajeshwari's face were changing slowly.

Utter disbelief... then a glimmer of happiness...then doubt and confusion...and ultimately, stark fear...

Visibly terrified, Rajeshwari surveyed the surrounding area. Then she looked at Nandini with an inexplicable helplessness, and without speaking, hurried into the car again.

Nandini felt too distraught to process the strangeness of Rajeshwari's reactions. Her lack of composure had defeated her, and she'd wasted too much time in organising her thoughts...

But pushed by something stronger than her, Nandini approached the uniformed lady who had spoken to her, and shakily requested, "Could you please take my phone number?"

The lady hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod and fed the number given by Nandini into her mobile phone

"Please tell her she can call me anytime she wants," Nandini said earnestly.

The woman nodded.

She along with one of the guards got into Rajeshwari's car. The other guard and the lady holding the shopping bags got into the smaller car that was parked adjacent to Rajeshwari's vehicle.

Nandini moved back several feet as the cars manoeuvred their way out of the compound and joined the traffic on the roads. No one within the vehicles looked at her again.

After around five minutes, her cell phone vibrated once. It was a message from Vrinda, asking about her whereabouts. With quivering fingers, Nandini typed a reply that she would be back at the shop shortly. She checked her cheeks and was relieved to find them dry. Holding the phone tightly, she set out for the shop where her friends were waiting...

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