Prithvi...(Vol. 6)

Chapter 163

Prithvi sighed as the car made its way through the frequently bumpy streets of Shamli. He needed something that would take his mind off last night. Instead, for no fault of his, Bhoothnath was educating him about the miraculous powers of a million herbs. And that meant his mind had abundant time and energy to brood over matters that were better left alone.

Like how his anger and hostility had become a bit less over the course of one night after witnessing the crushing depths of her grief...

Like how he had realised last night that he was starting to get tired of constantly fighting his heart, his anger and hate, and his ego.

It would be so easy to cave in to his obsession for her. But he couldn't head in the direction in which he was being pushed by invisible hands. Nandini would hopefully have the wisdom to do what he had said and stay away from him. But if she didn't...

No, it didn't matter in any way...it didn't matter because he had the resilience to withstand anything, Prithvi thought with a mulish scowl. He had proven it to the world time and again.

Yet...if by some chance, the situation unfolded differently, the relationship would forever be frail...tottering on the edge of a sword...

Startled by his thoughts, Prithvi clamped down on them and tried to focus on the shops and houses going past them as the vehicle headed back to Vrindavan

He recalled strolling through these streets during his long walks while he'd been living here, and he knew if he did that today, he would see many familiar faces on the roads. There was comfort in that knowledge. There was comfort in this town.

The only other place where he felt this intense familiarity and ease was the Aadyabhoomi palace. He missed it, and often dreamt of it at night, especially the ancient sections of the fort. He wanted to go back there soon. Maybe he could go there after dropping his mother at Devgarh.

His mother...

She had been sound asleep when he had left. He wouldn't have left her side but he'd not wanted Bhoothnath to engage in the struggle of finding a rickshaw early in the morning. And Sarojini had assured him that she would not leave his mother's side until he was back and would give him a call immediately in case of any problem. The absence of phone calls from Vrindavan so far told him that his mother was fine, and no unfortunate incidents had taken place while he was away.

Other calls had come, but he had ignored them. The useless morons at Devgarh knew where his mother was, and that was enough information for them. But he was certain he would soon receive a call from a frantic Indrajit, , Prithvi thought resignedly, and he would have to answer that.

One phone call that had been conspicuous by its absence so far was Sankatmochan's, he mulled amusedly. The only possible reasons for that were that his old friend was sulking, or he was somehow unaware of yesterday's happenings – or he was lying dead somewhere.

He probably ought to call up someone at Taravan to ascertain that it was not the last one, Prithvi mulled with a frown.

Beside him, Bhoothnath was enthusiastically saying, "...that is why I say plants and herbs have tremendous power if you know how to harness them. And they have greater power when they are prepared by people with spiritual strength. It is my grandfather who taught me the most about herbs. And he learnt it from his parents and grandparents, and his great grandfather too was a renowned healer."

"Why stop there?" Prithvi grumbled. "I'm sure you can trace the talent back to the time of the Ramayana."

"I won't be surprised if that is true," Bhoothnath said snobbishly.