Prithvi watched interestedly as astonishment join the already volatile mix of anger and hurt on Nandini’s features.

It was easy to decipher the thoughts that had motivated her to buy this absurd thing for him. And it was fun to fling the ball right back into her court.

“Give it back if you didn’t like it,” Nandini said stiffly. It was not enough for him to scowl and swear at her first real gift. He had to make fun of her too.

He complied immediately by throwing the toy to her. “Thanks. I didn’t want to go downstairs just to put this in the trash can,” he grinned at the splotches of red on her cheeks, and waited gallantly for her to launch something sharp-edged and lethal at him.

Nandini caught the kitten and looked at its sweet, vacant face.

There was no gentle prickling in her eyes to warn her. She was rigid with anger one minute, and crying silently in the next.

In a flash, Prithvi was by her side.

“I was joking! Just joking!” he said hurriedly, shocked and uneasy. He grasped the side of her face gently with one hand, and quickly wiped the tears gushing down her face with the other, determinedly stopping them midway. “I wasn’t going to throw that stup – that thing! I swear I -”

She flung the toy to the floor, and hugged him.

A new bleakness clouded Prithvi’s eyes on recognising the true reason for her breakdown. His arms closed around her tightly, and his fingers tenderly caressed her hair.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. 

“For what? You were a child at the time,” she said softly, keeping her eyes closed and savouring the warm comfort of his embrace. Her tears had stopped almost as soon as he had held her, and the awful sense of being overwhelmed had passed.

Clasping her slender arms, he detached her slightly from himself to look intently into a pale and composed face.

“You’re really not upset?” he asked doubtfully. With me?

Smiling faintly at the unspoken words that he was too egoistic to utter, Nandini said,

“If my father was alive today, I’m sure he would have forgiven and forgotten. He was angry with them for not taking good care of you. He wanted you to have a good childhood. He loved you. And I love you,” she sighed resignedly, moving ahead to bury her face in his shoulder.

She really didn’t resent him, Prithvi reflected in cautious relief. In fact, he could discern that she was already in the process of overcoming the hurt.

That wouldn’t have been the case some months ago. It would have taken her longer to come to terms with it.

He had done this to her. He had made her accept ugliness and nasty shocks as a routine part of life…

Nandini raised her head and looked at his inexplicably perturbed visage. He was plainly dwelling on some horrid thoughts that he was not going to share.

It was alright. She could replace his moodiness with irritation.

She pulled apart from him and walked to the much-harassed soft toy. She lifted it from the floor, patted it apologetically and then strode to the table.

Nandini gave it a place of honour near Priyamvada’s photograph, and then looked at Prithvi. “A good spot, isn’t it?” she asked vibrantly.

He briefly considered the idea of agreeing just to make her happy, then discarded the sick and unnatural thought.

“One of the walls would be better. So I can use it for dart practice,” he said dourly.

“You won’t be able to throw darts at it,” Nandini challenged flippantly, tossing her head on her way out of the room.

“Why not?” he frowned.

She turned at the door.

“Because according to you, that is me,” Nandini quipped with an excessively sweet smile and exited airily on that high point.

It was true, Prithvi accepted reluctantly.

Feeling deeply insulted, he looked irritably at the dumb kitten on his table.

Looked like there was a nauseating kernel of truth in her warped reasoning after all…

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

Contently humming a devotional song, Bhoothnath walked by the side of the road with a big cotton bag that held minor purchases for the temple and a tiny bottle of Sandalwood oil for home. 

He was in the middle of a complicated refrain when someone took the bag from his hand.

“Insects and human beings are dropping dead,” Prithvi benignly informed a surprised Bhoothnath. “Show some mercy. Stop singing.”

“I sing very well!” Bhoothnath said, affronted. “People yearn to listen to my bhajans.”

 “You’re hilarious,” Prithvi laughed genially, patting Bhoothnath’s back. “Stand-up comedy. That should have been your profession,” he said admiringly. “It’s not too late, you know.”

Inflating, Bhoothnath prepared to embark on his famous “disrespectful youngsters” speech. He was still gathering his breath for a stern beginning when his attention was diverted by the sight of a brightly dressed woman on the other side of the road. Neelu cast a longing look at Prithvi, a jumpy glance at Bhoothnath and scooted off in the opposite direction.

“That is the stupidest woman in Shamli!” Bhoothnath announced loudly, nodding at her.

“She hit on you too?” Prithvi asked in surprise, and thoughtfully added, “Now I’m feeling a little insulted.”

Bhoothnath, who was too wrapped in resentment to pay attention, angrily continued, “She thought she was doing me a favour by bringing her useless nephew’s proposal for Nandini!”

The humorous light in Prithvi’s eyes went out instantly. The enraged blaze that replaced it would have frightened Bhoothnath had he seen it.

In a chillingly flat tone, he said, “You’re not thinking of getting Nandini married.”

“Not for the next three years! And never to that fellow!” Bhoothnath replied obstinately, not discerning that he’d been issued an order, not asked a question.

Prithvi’s frame relaxed slightly.

Then as Bhoothnath scathingly described the wannabe groom on the way to Vrindavan, blind anger dulled down to irritation.

Disconnected scenes from the past started replaying in his mind.

Nandini’s delighted smiles and laughter…

Her blushing gaze…

The shy and soft words that contained a fathomless ocean of love…

The *********** Dhiren staggering out of a classroom with blood pouring from his head…

The traumatized look on Suvek’s ugly and moronic face when she’d nearly blasted him off his broken feet in anger…

Irritation also began diminishing slowly, and soon, Prithvi discovered to his amazement that he was able to hear the story with something close to amusement, privately mulling that his wild cat was fully capable of skewering and roasting the deformed idiot from the wedding hall all by herself…

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

Nandini lowered her textbook and looked at the main door of the house. She’d left it ajar when her mother had left to visit the temple, expecting her grandfather to return at any moment. It usually didn’t take him so long to finish his purchases.

She kept the book on the short centre table, and rose from the couch. Strolling to the entrance, Nandini stepped over the threshold to survey the locality.

She smiled.

Grandfather was approaching the house. And he was having an animated discussion with someone.

Nandini happily opened the door wide and then walked to the kitchen. She was pouring freshly made lemon juice from a steel vessel into two glasses when Bhoothnath and Prithvi entered the house.

“I cannot consider it!” Bhoothnath was saying stringently, “That fellow is not fit for Nandini!”

Nandini spilled a little of the juice in shock, and quickly kept the vessel down. Her grandfather had told Prithvi about the proposal.

“Oh my God,” she groaned under her breath. Prithvi was going to be furious, and it would take –

“Why not? I think he’s perfect for her.”

It was Prithvi’s voice. But there was a mistake. He wouldn’t say that…

Flabbergasted, Nandini walked to the kitchen’s door and looked at the two men sitting on the sofa chairs.

Bhoothnath smiled at her.

Prithvi offered a very polite nod. However, the insufferably smug laughter in his gaze was very eloquent.

 Prithvi turned to Bhoothnath again. “You said he’s an actor? What could be a better profession?” he asked earnestly. “Now that I think about it, I’m sure I’ve seen him in some advertisements.”

Nandini clenched her fists angrily and stalked back into the kitchen.

The monstrous brat was egging on her grandfather to accept the proposal. All because he was supremely confident and secure in the knowledge that she loved him intensely and wouldn’t let another man step into her life, she thought furiously.

She should accept the proposal just to spite him! That would serve him right!

If only she could be stupid and foolhardy enough to do that, she regretted bitterly while picking up the glasses and walking out of the kitchen.

She entered the hall to hear Prithvi intently say, “His best advertisement was one about STDs. He is a natural actor. Or maybe he could emote so well because he has experienced it in real life….But let’s not be negative,” he nodded. “Give him a chance.”

As Bhoothnath emitted scandalised sounds, Nandini slammed the glasses on the centre table.

Then she looked at Prithvi coldly and asked, “Who asked for your opinion?”

“Nandini…” Bhoothnath remonstrated feebly.

Sombre-faced, Prithvi glanced at her and courteously said, “I’m just saying… you may not get such a good proposal again.”

“You don’t have to be concerned about me! Worry about finding someone for yourself,” she retorted acidly. “Because no girl in her right mind will put up with a horrible person like you!”

“Nandini, don’t say that,” Bhoothnath protested.

“Oh I’m not worried,” Prithvi smiled dazzlingly at her. “There are quite a few brainless and insane females out there.” 

She glared at him, then lifted her textbook from the short table and turned to storm up the stairs to her room

When the stomping noises ceased, Prithvi looked at Bhoothnath and shook his head sagely. “With that temper, you’ll be lucky to find anyone for her.”

“She doesn’t get angry often. And her temper actually benefited me once,” Bhoothnath said hastily, wishing to do some damage control. He hadn’t studied Prithvi’s horoscope yet, and in case it matched Nandini’s…

“She frightened off your sense of hearing so you don’t have to listen to yourself sing?”

“I sing wonderfully!” Bhoothnath insisted, “But that is not the point. It is because of Nandini that my wife’s snobbish and obnoxious family stopped torturing us with their visits,” he reminisced blissfully.

“You adore your in-laws eh?” Prithvi grinned.

Bhoothnath bristled. “First, they had a problem with me! And when Siddharth got married, they had a problem with Sarojini as well. They wanted Siddharth to marry a rich girl. They kicked up a fuss at that time but I conducted the wedding anyway. Unfortunately, they forgave me very soon. From time to time, they would visit us and spoil the atmosphere of the house.”

“It became worse after Siddharth… -  But they were careful not to say anything harsh to Sarojini in front of me, Nandini or Prakash. And that poor child never complained to me, but I knew….I knew…” he said grimly. “I couldn’t forbid their visits though, since they were very attached to the children, and Nandini and Prakash loved them too.”

“Then six years ago, during a visit, they accused Sarojini of being overly friendly with other men. They insinuated that she had taken up the job at the nursery to get an opportunity to leave the house and – some other things to that effect. The idiots didn’t know that Nandini had reached home from school and was overhearing them.”

“When I reached home from the temple, they were standing in the yard and Nandini was throwing their clothes and other articles out of the door,” he laughed gaily. “I didn’t know why she was doing it but I helped her anyway. Prakash was so little, but he helped too! I shut the door on their faces, and peace returned to the house. They sent at least a hundred letters later on. Apologising for their words and requesting Nandini to forgive them. But Nandini refuses to read the letters or talk to them over the phone,” he said proudly. “She doesn’t even like any discussion about them in this house!”

Six years, Prithvi mused.

The relatives had got off easily in his opinion. They shouldn’t have been standing in the yard. They should have been buried a few feet underneath it.

It was a little alarming, however, that Nandini possessed the ability to nurse a grudge for so long

Six years.

Prithvi soberly reached for the glass of lemonade and took a long drink.

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

Nandini walked down the steps at the entrance to her home with a bottle of oil, a packet of cotton wicks and a matchbox in her hands and stopped in front of the Tulsi.

Somewhere in the house, her grandfather abruptly and exultantly began crooning “Thirty two! Thirty two!” over and over again.

Thirty two what? she wondered amusedly.

She’d ask him after lighting the lamp, Nandini decided as she kept the items on the steps.

She was about to pick up the little lamp from the alcove of the plant’s earthen house when a metallic thunk startled her. 

She looked at the neighbouring yard and froze.

Rajyavardhan Singh was standing at Ayodhya’s gate.

He wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was fixed almost fanatically on the door of the house. And he appeared more ill and frail than before.

Behind him, a middle-aged man was standing in attention. He gazed at her for a second and then hurriedly looked away. He was vaguely familiar.

Nandini stared at Rajyavardhan Singh once more, and then decisively transferred her focus to the items in her hand.

She was not going to acknowledge their presence.

Prithvi had antagonised her badly earlier in the evening, and she fully intended to seek revenge.

But she couldn’t hurt him again by speaking to - and/or helping - his cruel and malevolent grandfather.

She would light the lamp, finish her worship and go back inside and ask her grandfather why he was so thrilled with the number thirty two.

Firm on the resolution, she swiftly put new wicks in the lamp, poured oil into it, and lit it reverentially.

She circumbulated the sacred plant more quickly than usual, struggling to stop thinking about the source of the clanging sound that had attracted her attention in the first place.

There was a gold-coloured cane in Rajyavardhan Singh’s hand. Had he hit it against the gate to draw her attention?

NO. It didn’t matter.

After finishing the third circumbulation, she prayed for a minute. Then heaving a small sigh of relief, she turned to gather up the items on the steps.

Clang!

A louder one this time.

She paused and swivelled to Rajyavardhan Singh. He was still pretending to be spellbound by Ayodhya’s exterior. The other man, however, was looking at her with an openly pleading expression.

She couldn’t help. She just couldn’t.

Steeling herself, she started to turn back

“Nandini!”

The ferocious, albeit low-pitched, snarl made her halt. She spun and coolly regarded Prithvi’s grandfather.

He was scowling at her, apparently outraged and hopping mad that she had not twirled around and run and fallen at his feet in the thrill of being summoned by the sound of a cane whacked against a gate, thus forcing him to use his royal voice.  

She silently walked through the small gateway in between the houses, and came to a stop in front of him.

“Yes?” she asked him coolly.

The old man simply continued to glower at her. But the other man responded. With eyes darting nervously to the back of Rajyavardhan’s head, he joined his palms and proffered a soundless “Namaste”

She reciprocated respectfully, and then deliberately lowered her hands as she looked back at Rajyavardhan Singh’s stony face.

The man softly said, “This is –

“I know who he is,” Nandini interrupted civilly, “And if he has anything to say or ask or request, he can do it himself.”

Feeling strangely serene, she observed Rajyavardhan’s pasty skin turned a nasty maroon with venomous rage…

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