Kedar began to speak, but dithered as he met Prithvi’s direct gaze. “You’ll have to hear unpleasant truths about the people you loved,” he said awkwardly, gazing over Prithvi’s shoulder.

Nandini’s queasiness doubled. From the palpable nervousness in her father’s friend, it seemed he had some harsh truths lined up regarding –

Please let it not be about Priyamvada, she prayed fervently. Prithvi had endured too many shocks in a short span, and he had just gotten a modicum of peace on learning his father’s truth…

 “You can relax. I don’t intend to rip your throat out in front of so many witnesses,” Prithvi assured. “But watch your back while travelling in the dark,” he advised seriously.

“Don’t make fun of him. Please,” Nandini protested faintly, inwardly stunned by his ability to make light of the situation.

“Okay,” Prithvi muttered, and he looked at Kedar. “Look, the only illusions I had were about the people I hated. Whatever you have to say, I may not find it as shocking as you think,” he shrugged.

His words appeared to calm Kedar down. In a more confident voice, the older man said, “Aditya was dead and gone for a while before Siddharth heard about the accident. One of Aditya’s drivers was passing via Shamli, and he visited Siddharth to share the sad news. Siddharth was more worried about you than your mother. He was sure Rajyavardhan’s rage would be directed towards you, not Priyamvada. But he didn’t have any means to find out if you were okay. So he took two days leave from his office and travelled to Devgarh. The guards didn’t let him step inside the grounds. Siddharth wasn’t willing return without some answers… so he befriended a villager who was a servant in the palace, and got the truth out of him.”

“They told him that Priyamvada had gone into severe shock after Aditya’s death. She’d become lifeless. Totally numb. Rajyavardhan assumed it was the result of the continuous trauma she’d undergone after the marriage. He spent huge amounts on her treatment. Brought famous doctors from across the world. Her condition improved gradually, but she – I guess she wasn’t in a state to pay any attention to you,” Kedar said warily. “You must have been just three months old at the time, but your care was left entirely to the servants. Most of them were scared to be seen looking after you because they didn’t want to invite their king’s rage. Only one of them…a cook, I think - ”

“Kadambari,” Prithvi said absently.

“Yes…yes…that was her name. If it wasn’t for that lady, you would have died in the cradle. Siddharth wanted to meet her but couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything to help you at the time. He was struggling financially and had his own family to think of. But he requested a villager to keep him informed about you via letters. And it was from those letters that he learnt that you were being completely neglected by Priyamvada even after she’d recovered considerably. It upset Siddharth, but he couldn’t budge from Shamli because his wife was pregnant at the time.”

“Shortly after, Priyamvada started making visits to the old temple in Shamli with you in tow. She would be dressed impeccably....your clothes used to be shabby and old. And you usually had big bruises on your face and arms. But Priyamvada wouldn’t admit that you were being ill-treated by her family. When Siddharth asked about the injuries, he would be told that you had tripped and fallen down the stairs…..you got hurt while playing with your friends…you ran into a door by mistake….”

“It soon became clear that her family’s cruelty towards you wasn’t reducing and Siddharth felt it was only a matter of time before you died at their hands. He wanted to get you out of that place. Priyamvada was well educated, and could speak many foreign languages. During one of her usual visits to the temple, Siddharth offered to get her a job in Shamli itself and told her she could stay in Ayodhya for free for as long as she needed. She didn’t even try to pretend like she heard him.”

“Siddharth’s patience ended that day and he confronted her angrily. Told her she wasn’t recovering fully because she didn’t want to. And that she wanted to wallow in self-pity and misery because it was a more convenient option than facing the world and accepting responsibility for her child’s safety and happiness. Priyamvada also lost her temper. I was there… I heard her. She… well, she humiliated him badly….said he had – dishonourable intentions towards her. And many other terrible things. Didn’t spare his family and humble background in her abuses,” Kedar muttered, staring at the table.

“After that, Priyamvada didn’t return to Shamli. But she continued to send you to Vrindavan occasionally with some guards. Then you too stopped coming,” he told Prithvi. “It worried Siddharth. His letters to the villager went unanswered. He waited for some time, then decided to go to Devgarh again, and asked me to accompany him. Not because I was his best friend or anything,” he clarified honestly. “I was the only friend in his circle who had grown up in a bad neighbourhood. And I was good at keeping secrets.”

“In Devgarh, the villagers told us you were alive and well, but Siddharth still wanted to make sure. At the palace, we were stopped by the guards. Siddharth refused to move from the gates until he saw you. The guards threatened us and roughed us up a little. I would have given up, but Siddharth was adamant, and I couldn’t leave his side. Ultimately, your uncle and mother came to the gates to see us. Priyamvada told us you were perfectly fine and happy, and that vermin like us didn’t have to be concerned about you,” Kedar said with a hollow laugh.

“Then Harshavardhan took over. He was furious and abusive. Siddharth was calm but stood his ground. Harshavardhan must have signalled the guards at some point. We were beaten up. We did try to fight back but they were too many. Priyamvada didn’t say anything. She just stood there…watching. I don’t remember how we returned to Shamli that day. Everyone was told that we’d met with an accident since Siddharth wanted to keep his family away from the mess. In the coming years, his financial troubles mounted. He was earning a decent salary, but he was too kindhearted and generous. People who turned up at his doorstep with sob stories rarely left empty handed. Very few of those people repaid their debt. Siddharth had to work day and night to pay the bills. Once in a blue moon, he would get a reply from his friend in Devgarh, and that was the only reassurance he got about your wellbeing.” 

“It was one of those rare and delayed letters that said Priyamvada was dead and that Rajyavardhan had thrown you out of the palace. And that was how Siddharth and I ended up travelling to Devgarh for the last time. He created a ruckus at the gates of the palace. Threatened to inform the police. He was convinced some foul play was involved in your mother’s death and was afraid that you’d been killed too. Harshavardhan allowed us to enter the palace this time. In one of those halls, Siddharth was asked if he preferred to search for you or ensure the safety of his daughter. It was an open threat, and it was effective. We returned home without answers.”

“But Siddharth continued to make discreet efforts to locate you. It helped that he was a marketing officer and was required to travel a lot. I don’t know what exactly he did or what he discovered. But I guess he was close to finding out something. Because one night, when he was returning home from office, two men attacked him. They beat him up badly. And before leaving, they recited some details about Nandini’s daily routine. Her school timings, the road on which she travelled each day, the number of the bus in which she travelled to school. They even described the frock she had worn that evening while playing with her friends. No threats were made. None were needed. Siddharth had to accept defeat at last. But I don’t think he ever managed to make peace with that decision…”

*********************        

In Ayodhya’s living room, Bhoothnath listened to Sumer Singh talking devoutly about Adityaraj. He was waiting patiently for an appropriate moment to raise a delicate question. When Sumer Singh started raving about Aditya’s brilliance, Bhoothnath found an opening and pounced.

“Prithvi must have inherited his intelligence from his father,” Bhoothnath injected quickly. “I remember Rajesh praising him for his success in academics. He will get a good job after he completes the course, won’t he?” he added offhandedly.

Sumer Singh smiled at the innocent old man. “He has been getting job offers almost every day for the past few years,” he answered proudly. “But I don’t think he’s interested. And anyway, he can take his time to decide. Money is not a concern….he has been earning lakhs of rupees every month for years now.”

“Lakhs? But how?” Bhoothnath spluttered.

Sumer Singh explained that Prithvi’s incredible success in many renowned national and international science competitions had caught the attention of the corporate world when the boy was still in his early teens.  Using the simplest terms possible, Sumer Singh described how top companies approached Prithvi to solve their high-tech issues, create firewall programs, and for online business consultation as well.

Bhoothnath listened in wonder. He couldn’t understand most bits, but Sumer Singh’s enthusiastic account had stimulated a professional curiosity within him, apart from giving him an excuse for completing his second mission.

“So much success at a young age. Prithvi must have been born under an unusual configuration of planets,” Bhoothnath said carefully during a lull in the talk. “If you don’t mind, can I take a look at his horoscope?”

“Of course!” Sumer Singh said eagerly, rising from the chair. “I’ll bring it right away.”

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

As she walked alongside Prithvi on the road that linked the college to the highway, Nandini thought of the joyful time they had spent on the stretch that very morning.

Her grandfather often said that it was important that a person remain composed and not get swept away by excessive emotions of any kind – be it happiness or sorrow. Because laughter and tears usually followed each other in an unending cycle.

She was experiencing it first hand today.

She’d felt appalled to learn about the neglect Prithvi had suffered at the hands of his own mother. And it had almost killed her to listen to the ordeals her father had gone through…

If Prithvi’s uncle had not been dead already, she would’ve gladly strangled him today. The monster that had humiliated and harmed her father should rot in hell for eternity, she wished bitterly. Consumed by an anguished rage, she didn’t realise her nails were burrowing fiercely into Prithvi’s arm.

He didn’t react to the pressure of her fingers, aware that she wasn’t doing it intentionally. And anyway, he wouldn’t have flinched if her nails scooped out bits of his flesh. Anything was tolerable because she was still holding his arm and walking by his side.

He hadn’t expected the kindness.

In fact, after Kedar had left for taking a round of the campus, he had fully expected Nandini to leave wordlessly and avoid him for a while. He had seen tears of unbound fury and grief swimming in her eyes while learning about the hardships and violence her father had faced for him. Hardships caused by his family.

This time, Kedar’s narration had not held many surprises for him though. He’d felt astounded at the lengths to which Nandini’s father had gone for his sake, and was a tad sceptical about Kedar’s version of his mother’s behaviour towards Siddharth. It was a little difficult to picture his broken and dispirited mother spewing abuses at anyone. The statements regarding her ambivalence towards him, however, were not shocking.

Priyamvada may have recovered for a while because of the treatment, but her condition had deteriorated post the withdrawal of medical attention. The mother he remembered had been apathetic towards life in general, and that indifference had extended to him. 

In reality, apart from the occasions when she had intervened to save him from Rajyavardhan’s wrath or simply embraced him and wept helplessly for no apparent reason, he had often felt that his mother wasn’t aware of his existence.

And Harshavardhan… the man had had just been a pathetic, junk-grade version of Rajyavardhan. He had inherited his father’s ambitious nature and callousness, but none of the intelligence or business aptitude. He had gotten by with a mixture of cunning and clout. And stories showcasing his nasty streak had been aplenty in the palace.

All in all, Prithvi mulled grimly, nothing Kedar said had been remotely as intolerable as the sight of Nandini’s grief…

And the knowledge that, yet again, he was the cause.

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

Sarojini entered her room with a pile of ironed clothes, and looked at the bed.

Nandini was still lying on her side, hugging a pillow. Her eyes were open, and she was gazing absentmindedly at the framed picture of her bashful, smiling parents on the opposite wall.

“Headache gone?” Sarojini enquired. “Are you feeling better?”

Nandini truthfully muttered in the affirmative. Time spent in the shrine in the gentle and powerful presence of her beloved deity, and later, in the comforting confines of her home had acted as a cure.

The fierce sense of pride had also helped.

She was blessed to have been born as Siddharth Bharadwaj’s daughter.  She’d hero-worshipped her father throughout her childhood. If he was alive today, she might probably have started worshipping him in the literal sense. He deserved to be venerated for the hardships he had undergone for Prithvi.

Nandini squeezed the pillow tightly.

She had not talked to Prithvi on the way home. Not offered a word of comfort.

To make matters worse, her silence might have led him to conclude that she was upset with him for the wrongs committed by his family, Nandini thought anxiously.

But she knew how to convince him otherwise. First, she would show him the lines written by her father in the diary.

Or perhaps she should leave that moment until tomorrow, when she would be in more control of her emotions. The attempt to cheer Prithvi up would suffer a minor setback if she burst into tears after seeing her father’s handwriting.

Something more light-hearted would be apt for today...

Smiling to herself, Nandini glanced at her mother who was arranging the clothes in a cupboard. “Ma, you still look as young and beautiful as the bride in that photo.”

Sarojini closed the cupboard with a shyly surprised laugh. “Don’t be silly!”

Nandini released the pillow and sat up, mischievously saying, “I’m not joking! Now tell me the secret!”

Sarojini amusedly walked over to her daughter and pulled a cheek. “The secret is to have daughters. Their sweetness is the best beauty treatment for a mother.”

“And sons are the sole cause of grey hair, right?” Nandini nodded understandingly. “Superb! I can’t wait to tell Pikku!” she grinned, rubbing her hands gleefully.

Sarojini shook her head amusedly as she sat down on the bed, and then cautiously said, “A - a funny incident happened in the temple today…”

As she narrated the particulars of the supposed “funny” event, Nandini’s hands froze for the second time that day.

“Neelu aunty asked him what?” she yelped, horror-struck.

“She brought her nephew’s proposal for you,” Sarojini said calmly.

Neelu aunty’s nephew. That ghastly man who had hounded her during Aarti Di’s wedding, Nandini recollected with a shudder.

“And what did grandpa say?” she asked croakily.

Sarojini chuckled. “Don’t be so worried. You know he won’t get you married until you finish your education.”

“And get a job,” Nandini appended guardedly.

“Okay. And get a job,” Sarojini agreed.

“But what exactly did grandpa say?” Nandini fretfully asked again.  

“They are a business family that lives in a far-off city and the boy is planning to enter movies. That should tell you how father reacted.” Sarojini said dryly. “He told Neelu our family wasn’t so ill-fated that he would consider the proposal.”

The feeling of nausea passed. “Oh Thank God!” Nandini said fervently.

“He shouted at her in front of a lot of people,” Sarojini continued worriedly. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow and apologise.”

“You don’t have to apologise!” Nandini said crossly, “She shouldn’t have done this. How could she - ”  

“But are you sure it is a bad idea? Don’t you want to at least think about it?” Sarojini teasingly asked her daughter.

“Think about it?! Ma, he looks like a white buffalo!” Nandini exclaimed indignantly.  

“Nandini, you mustn’t talk like that about anyone!” Sarojini said sternly. “Understand?”

“Okay,” Nandini mumbled resentfully.

“Freshen up and come downstairs. I’ll make tea for you,” Sarojini said, rising to her feet.  

White buffalo, she repeated in her mind while walking towards the stairs that led to the living room.

It was an appropriate description of Neelu’s nephew.

She chortled guiltily.

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

Prithvi stilled mid-stride at the threshold of his room. So this was the reason Sumer Singh had greeted him exuberantly on his return from a walk.  

Nandini was sitting on the desk in his room, her feet swinging a feet above the floor. She was gazing thoughtfully at Priyamvada’s framed photograph. An unlabelled glass jar full of small chocolate nuggets was next to her, and a big cotton bag was hiding unsuccessfully behind her. 

She looked up from the snap. “Aha! My prince is here!” she stated brightly, carefully returning the photograph to its original spot near the books. “Where were you? I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes! But Sumer uncle gave me these chocolates to pass the time,” she grinned, tapping the lid of the adjacent jar. As he walked towards her, she quickly said, “Did you hear? Janki Bhargava – the Hindi novelist – she may be coming to our college next week. She is grandpa’s childhood friend. He is a big fan of her books too!”

The dazzling smile and lively chatter didn’t distract Prithvi’s attention from the lingering pallor on her face.  She was trying to put up a show for a single-member audience and simultaneously telling him that she didn’t want to discuss any serious topics, he recognised dryly.

But as long as she wasn’t evading him in anger, he’d play along with any damn charade she wanted. And he’d make it a lot more fun. For himself.

“I didn’t know you love liquor-filled chocolates,” Prithvi said in surprise, interrupting her animated discourse on the accomplishments of the female novelist.

Nandini looked incredulously at him. His expression was unusually respectful.

“Liquor - what?” she gasped, as he reached the table.

Prithvi pushed the jar to the back to make place for himself.

Nandini quickly started shuffling away to put some space between them.

He frowned at her.

“Sumer uncle is downstairs,” she apologetically answered his unspoken question on reaching the other end of the wooden surface.

 “And if we were alone in the house, you’d drag me to the bed I suppose,” he snorted while turning to sit down on the table.

“Sshhhh! Don’t talk so loudly!” she scolded, looking worriedly at the door. 

“Right…so you didn’t know about the liquor?” he asked gravely.

Reminded of his first shocking statement, Nandini unsurely stared at him.

He looked completely serious. And mightily impressed.

But she made a feeble attempt to rally. “Sumer uncle wouldn’t have given me these if they were -,” she gulped, not able to say it aloud.

“He doesn’t know,” Prithvi shared ruefully. “I didn’t have to tell him because he’s avoiding sweets to control his sugar levels.” 

Nandini gazed at the tainted hand that had touched the nuggets.

The chocolates had tasted very different. Could they have been filled with liquor, she wondered, feeling sick.

She had eaten three. THREE.

But it was alright, Nandini told herself bravely. She didn’t have to give into her feelings and burst into tears. Two bottles of water from the river Ganges were kept in her grandfather’s room. She would drink a little of the holy water and use some drops to cleanse her fingers. It would purify her.

“It’s in your grandfather’s room, isn’t it?”

She started and met Prithvi’s sympathy-filled gaze.

“The water of the Ganges,” he elaborated sombrely.

Embarrassed and annoyed, she declared, “I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“It’s alright,” he consoled her. “Just think about how happy Anika will be to know that you ate these chocolates.”

“She brought these?” Nandini asked, outraged.

He nodded.

Furious, Nandini got down from the table, but instantly found a big obstruction in her way.

Prithvi seemed to have moved before her feet touched the ground. And he was imprisoning her on the spot by keeping his hands on either sides of the table. 

“Where are you going?” he enquired.

“To stick a finger down my throat and throw up,” she snapped, and then squeaked as he gripped her around the waist to lift her and set her back down on the table with insolent ease.

“Relax, I was kidding,” he grinned at her angry face. “Rohit brought the chocolates and there is no alcohol in them.”

Then without waiting for her to react, he unexpectedly observed, “No questions so far on why I didn’t tell you I was meeting Kedar today. Why?” he demanded.

Nandini pushed his hands away from her waist, and shoved at his shoulders. He stepped back unwillingly.

“I know the answer,” she said crossly. “You guessed the truth would upset me, and you believe only you have the God-given right to make me cry.”

Prithvi gazed at her in astonishment.  “I couldn’t have put it better myself,” he admitted admiringly. He didn’t add that he’d felt relieved when she’d dropped by unexpectedly at his table just minutes before Kedar was to arrive.

Lies and concealment were already thriving spectacularly in his world. His contribution would be overkill.

“How did you know Kedar uncle was keeping back something?” Nandini asked coolly, retaliating with a question of her own.

“He looked way too uncomfortable when your grandfather was talking of the fallout between your father and mine,” Prithvi replied, returning to his seat on the table. “And he was very obviously relieved when the topic changed to the morphed photograph.”

Nandini silently digested the information without trying to recollect having seen those emotions on Kedar’s face. She’d been too engrossed in a private world to register anything else that evening.

“Did you tell your grandfather his girlfriend is coming to town?”

Nandini looked confusedly at her companion for a moment, then indignantly said, “She’s not his girlfriend! She was his classmate in school. And he likes her books. That’s all!

“But it really sounds like he has a thing for her,” Prithvi insisted.

“He does not!” Nandini refuted angrily. “My grandmother was his first and last love.”

“First and last. Interesting concept,” Prithvi contemplated. “And a stupid one. I personally follow the as-many-women-as-possible school of thought.”

“Wonderful,” she beamed. “But when I get married to someone more sensitive and trustworthy than you, the wedding hall probably won’t be able to contain all of your mistresses. It would be nice if you bring along only your favourite one for company.”

“Those are some heartless and foolish statements,” he assured her.

“Really? How so?” she asked sarcastically.

“You’ll be responsible for your groom’s murder and your own kidnapping,” he rejoined.

She rolled her eyes. “And where will you lock me up? In the highest room in the tallest tower?” she asked disdainfully.

“No. Too much climbing. I intend to conserve all my energy for more interesting activities,” he said earnestly.

As she turned a full-blown crimson, Nandini irritably said, “You won’t have to make the journey often. I’ll kill you on your very first visit. Without weapons if needed,” she added tartly, and then venomously began describing possible ways of his slaughter.

She didn’t need weapons, Prithvi reflected. Her eyes could wreck havoc without trying…

“You’re not listening to me!”

“I got the gist,” he comforted her. “You plan to either bore me to death with your senseless jabbering or convince me to euthanize myself by listening to your grandfather’s stories. See, I was listening.”

Miffed, Nandini got down from the table for the second time. “I’m going home.”

“So this is for me?”

She turned to see Prithvi picking up the bag she’d forgotten behind.

“Don’t open it!” she squealed.

An item she’d found adorable an hour back suddenly felt like the most ridiculous and childish gift possible. What had possessed her to buy a soft toy for this real-life devil…

He halted and looked at her. “It’s not for me?”

“It is – but – I don’t think you’ll like it,” she muttered, flushing.

“Why won’t I like getting lots and lots of naked pictures of you?” Prithvi asked, perplexed.

With a blazing hot face, Nandini hissed, “You will never be that lucky.”

“Let’s agree to disagree,” he compromised, pulling out the contents of the bag.

Prithvi stared at the fluffy kitten in the devil’s costume. “What the **** is this?” he scowled.

Then he looked at her suspiciously. “You’ve begun modelling for toy companies?”

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