Murmurs of an unfamiliar female voice put Nandini on alert moments before she was at the door. She peered into the living room when she was at the base of the steps.

Her nervous-looking mother was sitting on the sofa, hands clasped together in her lap and eyes lowered. She was nodding uncomfortably in response to a monologue by Uma Raheja.

Startled by the identity of the visitor, Nandini drew back.

Grandpa had refused to consider the proposal, hadn't he? So what was she doing here?

Biting her lip, Nandini walked into the house, keeping her eyes on the floor. She removed her sandals by the side of the door. Striving to appear cheerful instead of anxious, she looked at the two other ladies in the room. 

Smiling tensely at the guest, she joined her palms and politely said, "Namaste."

"Namaste," Uma murmured with a nod.

Sarojini quickly addressed her daughter. "You must be tired. Go to your room and rest. I'll bring tea upstairs."

Nandini was about to obey happily, when Mrs Raheja sharply interjected, "Wait. I wish to speak to you about an important matter."

"My daughter is aware of the decision. She does not have anything to add," Sarojini said just as sharply.

"Nonetheless, I think she has the right to know why her grandfather had made an ignorant and foolish decision by turning down the proposal," Uma said stiffly.

"My grandfather does not make ignorant and foolish decisions," Nandini refuted softly.

Sarojini looked at her daughter, alarmed by the understated anger in her tone. "Nandini..." she muttered.

The warning went unheeded.

"He was right in rejecting the proposal," Nandini went on evenly. "If he hadn't rejected it, I most certainly would have. I'm nineteen years old. I don't intend to get married until I complete my studies and get a job."

"You can complete your studies after marriage," Uma said impatiently. "And you don't need to work. But if you are so keen on it, you can join our family business. We are one of the biggest business houses in the country," she added snobbishly. "We mint more money in a day that your family sees in a year. If you marry my son, you'll be able to escape this impoverished existence that your forefathers have led, and enjoy a luxurious life."

"I will consider myself blessed if I can spend my life in the same way that my forefathers did. But I don't expect you to understand that," Nandini smiled frostily.

But in spite of her fury, she wanted to laugh. She was already suffering the agonies of hell because of a bad relationship. She would have to be reborn to consider the prospect of allowing another man to wreck her mind. And she would have to be born without a brain to contemplate marriage to a person like Virat.

Uma flushed. Her initial assessment of the girl was wrong. There was no docility behind that sweet, innocent face. It would be difficult to control her in the long term.

But her son was too taken by the girl's beauty. He would be upset if she returned with bad news.

"Don't make decisions in haste, Nandini," she warned. "My son is one in a million. He is handsome and smart and...let me tell you... he is considered a prize catch in our circles."

"I'm sure he is," Nandini agreed bitingly. "I'm not worthy of him. He should marry a girl who is as exceptional as him. He has my best wishes," she assured.

Sarojini gasped. "You cannot speak to elders so rudely! Apologise to - "

"You could have reigned like a queen if you'd agreed to marry my son," Uma said furiously, staring at Nandini. "But I cannot change a person's destiny. You are fated to spend your days in this – this pitiful town...penny-pinching just like your mother."

"Thank you for the blessing," Nandini said courteously. "It is getting late. If you leave immediately, you will not have to rely on the streetlights to find your way."

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

Lounging against a comfortable stack of pillows on the huge bed, Prithvi disinterestedly listened to Sumer Singh enumerate the items that he planned to send across from Shamli in the second instalment.

"What about your books?" Sumer Singh enquired at the end.

"Don't need them."

"Okay. Do you need anything else from here?"

Yes...but she may not agree to be packed into a suitcase...

"No...nothing," Prithvi muttered, sitting up. Then he hesitantly asked, "How is she?"

"Still angry," Sumer Singh said apologetically. "But otherwise fine. We hardly see her these days. My lord, I think we should tell her the purpose of your journey," he suggested carefully. "I'm sure she will understand and let go of her anger."

It wasn't going to work, Prithvi mulled inwardly. If anything, it would worsen matters. But even if there was a chance that it would calm her, he didn't want to go down that road. If she wanted to speak to him, she could do it for reasons other than pity or dismay.

"No. She doesn't need to know," he said briefly.

"As you say," Sumer Singh sighed. "We'll keep trying to convince her to speak to -"

"It's alright. Don't raise the topic again. Her exams are near. Let her focus on her studies," Prithvi directed quietly, gazing at the soft toy in his other hand.

After ending the call, he kept the phone aside, and dropped the toy into the top drawer of the bedside stand and shut it. He picked up a big, folded piece of paper that was lying next to his pillow and rose from the bed.

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

Sumer Singh performed a final check of the contents and then closed the bag. He should have been the one carrying these to Prithvi. But the prince had asked him to wait for a week before leaving Shamli.

The search in the current spot would wind up by then, and Prithvi would shift his focus to a much larger area - Purvanagar. It made more sense for Sumer Singh to join the entourage at that point...

Feeling depressed, he walked to the kitchen to make a strong cup of tea.

The conversation with Prithvi had saddened him. The boy was putting up an indifferent front, but it was obvious that he was very downcast. The sole person who could cheer him up was furious with him.

And unfortunately, the situation was beginning to seem hopeless.

From the bits of information he had gathered from acquaintances in Uday Singh's bungalow, it had become obvious Prithvi wasn't sticking to the list of institutions given by Rajyavardhan. Sumer Singh feared that prince was literally scouring every street in the area for his mother.

If Prithvi intended to comb through the whole region of Agnivarsh in this meticulous manner, it could take a year to complete the search, Sumer Singh estimated unhappily as the water began to boil...

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

Kadambari unhappily examined the dishes on the silver tray that a servant brought into the kitchen.

Prithvi had not touched the food.

She tried to ensure that he had a decent breakfast but she had a strong suspicion that he often skipped lunch. There was no way to confirm her doubts since he refused to allow any of the guards or servants to accompany him on the long excursions.

And therefore, she had cooked a variety of items, expecting Prithvi to be ravenous on his return from his search. But he had sent the tray back without even looking at it, the servant said.

She would not allow it, Kadambari decided as she left the kitchen. He was going to fall sick if he continued to eat so little. It was a miracle that the strain was not showing on his face.

Speaking of which...

His looks were setting heart aflutter all over the place, Kadambari fretted while suspiciously gazing at the young maids she passed on the way to Prithvi's room.

She had to keep a close eye on them. Gold diggers were everywhere. Extreme care had to be exercised or greedy harlots would trap him in no time.

And these girls weren't like the loyal and trained maids in Devgarh. They didn't know how to attend to members of the royal family.

Then again, this wasn't a palace, she reflected. It was an ordinary bungalow owned by Adityaraj's uncle, Uday Singh Rathod. The infamous old man had numerous houses in the region. As per the caretakers of the house, he had purchased a lot of land in the state in his youth because it had large and picturesque hilly areas. This was apparently the smallest house he owned. Yet, its size and grandeur were impressive.

Kadambari halted outside Prithvi's room.

The door was open. She glanced inside worriedly.

A young man was seated on a plush armchair in the vast room, studying a large map.

With her, Prithvi usually behaved like a mischievous, adorable and humorous child. In truth, though, he was a completely different person.

And something was disturbing him. It wasn't just the uncertainty regarding his mother's existence and whereabouts. There was a kernel of agitation and sadness in him. And it was growing with every passing day.

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

Prithvi examined the map of Agnivarsh. He wanted to become familiar with as much of the region as possible.

He had memorised a smaller version that covered the main city and surrounding areas. Especially the religious places around which the shelters were clustered. But this one was a more recent and detailed map of the region.

He'd visited several institutions so far. A few of them were maintained well, while others.... others were slightly better off financially by the time he left. And each place reinforced his determination to remain unemotional and detached until the end of his search...

A large shadow fell over the map.

Prithvi looked up at Kadambari and offered a charming smile.

As expected, it didn't work.

She had treated him respectfully and dotingly for a day and a half. And then he had heard the politeness in her tone disappear bit by bit as she swiftly reverted to being the strict nanny of his childhood.

Glowering, Kadambari sternly said, "You didn't eat dinner, and you wasted half of your breakfast today morning. Wasting food is a sin! You should eat every morsel on your plate."

"I'm not hungry. And today morning, you put half the world's food produce on my plate," Prithvi insisted. "How was I supposed to finish it?"

"You're on your feet from morning to night! You're going to fall ill if you don't eat well!" she reprimanded. "But who am I to tell you anything?! I'm just a lowly cook. You don't have to listen to me. But I cannot see you starving. Tomorrow, I will go back to Devgarh! Then you can do as you please!" she said austerely.

Startled, Prithvi warily put aside the map and stood up. He put his hands on her shoulders, turned her around and gently steered the rotund woman out of the room.

"I'm hungry," he declared to her instant gratification, "And I'm going to eat up everything you've cooked. What's on the menu? Nothing healthy I hope..."

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

Priyamvada looked at her handiwork. The letters were legible, but the stars encircling the name had not come out well.

She stroked the embroidery on the cloth.

Prithviraj

A sweet blend of their names - Adityaraj and Priyamvada. It was Aditya's suggestion, Priyamvada reminisced tenderly, and she had loved it.

But sometimes... she wondered if they'd unknowingly inflicted a mix of their misfortunes too on their baby boy...

You don't have to share credit... you did all the inflicting by yourself...

Priyamvada's hands shook violently. The cloth slipped from her fingers and fell on her lap.

Those voices... those vile voices wouldn't leave her alone...

And they were growing louder. She knew why. They were exulting in the fact that Aditya had not come to visit her since last month.

Why wasn't he coming?

Had he forgotten about her? Or had anger overpowered his love after all these years?

That couldn't be, Priyamvada decided as she clamped her fingers tightly to stop them from quaking.

Aditya would never stop loving her and he wouldn't abandon her either. He would come... he would...

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

In waning sunlight, Prithvi strolled through the small locality.

There was a temple in each nook and corner in this place, he noticed amusedly.

The streets were choc-a-bloc with tiny shops selling flowers, sandalwood sticks, incense, packets of vermillion powder and sacred ash, garlands and assorted items to cater to the steady flow of devotees. The fragrance in the air was overpowering.

Yet, for some reason, the atmosphere was soothing beyond measure.

Maybe because these were sights and fragrances that he associated with Nandini...

Prithvi paused at the base of a short flight of steps and caught a glimpse of the sanctum through a small group of pilgrims.

A temple dedicated to the Goddess Parvati. He could still see Choti maa devoutly telling him years ago that the goddess was the mother of the whole universe and loved every living being as her own child. He had found a lot of comfort in that belief back then.

Prithvi walked to one end of the stairs and sat down, abruptly feeling too exhausted.

He had ended his search for the day and it was time to return to the bungalow, where Choti maa would be waiting eagerly to unleash a tornado of sumptuous dishes on him. It would have been great if he'd been in the frame of mind to relish it at least a little.

He glanced up idly at the reddening sky. 

Dusk...that was when he missed being in Shamli the most...

On most days, he used to be on his way back to Ayodhya at this hour. He hadn't realised just how precious those journeys were. Nandini hadn't lived in the same house. Nevertheless, it had always felt like he was going home to her.

He was not going to experience that feeling anytime in the near future. That bleak reality might have been tolerable if he could speak to Nandini once in a while. But her tantrums were clearly going to last for some more days.

Meanwhile, a part of his mind that had cautiously begun to feel happy and calm some months ago... it was dying slowly...one breath at a time...

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

Nandini gazed fervently at the beautiful sculpture of Shiva in the sanctum as the priest conducted the evening aarti with camphor. Her lips moved automatically, chanting the sacred mantras of the blue-throated one.

Comfortable in the anonymity offered by the sizeable crowd in the shrine, she allowed her tears to fall uninterrupted....

It had become a necessary part of her daily routine to visit the Shiva temple every day even though it was far away from her home and college.

Praying in the family temple was a risky proposition these days, because each time she closed her eyes in prayer, tears would instantly begin flowing down her cheeks.

If family or neighbours spotted her crying, it could trigger an avalanche of questions and speculations that could wreck the peace of her whole family.

However, the tears weren't her enemy, since she invariably felt better in the aftermath. What she hated was a new and appalling inability to pray for everything that mattered. She wanted to pray only for mental strength and for her family's health and happiness.

But invariably, the first words that spouted from her heart were prayers for Prithvi's safety and wellbeing...

A strange, inner jolt made her stiffen all of a sudden. She turned to look at the entrance to the temple.

He was here. He was... he was waiting for her outside...

Nandini frantically pushed her way through the crowd, and rushed out of the temple. She scanned the surrounds desperately, but he wasn't there...

She knew hazily that people had surrounded her, and a few women were asking her if she was okay or if she had lost something precious. She couldn't understand their concern at the start. Then she realised she was crying inconsolably.

Despite trembling with shock, she controlled herself and hastily wiped her cheeks with a handkerchief that a lady had offered kindly. Then she mumbled a lie about losing her purse, and somehow succeeded in exiting the temple premises and reaching the road.

If only she had merely lost her purse or any other mundane item, she mused while attempting to hail a rickshaw with a shivering hand. That seemed almost desirable when sanity itself was at stake...

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