Prithvi... [Vol 5]

Chapter 125

How happy he had been to see Prithvi leave yesterday morning, Sumer Singh recalled bitterly. He had rejoiced on imagining Prithvi in the sweet and simple surroundings of Ayodhya...comfortable and happy in the midst of the Bharadwajs...and also managing to sort out all the problems with Nandini. Instead, the last flame of hope had died out.

"There is hardly any network in those hills," Uday Singh said. "Dilawar will keep in touch with the caretaker of the cottage, and will let us know if any problem arises. Don't let Sankatmochan or any of Prithvi's friends or acquaintances know where he is. They might call you when they can't get in touch with him. Tell them that he has gone for some work, and must not be disturbed for two weeks. Prithvi has said he will return sooner than that, but I think we should be prepared to hear that he needs a longer break."

"And Sumer, even after Prithvi returns, you must not tell him anything about Nandini falling ill," Uday Singh cautioned. "It will not serve any purpose apart from adding to his unhappiness. In fact, we must strictly avoid taking Nandini's name in front of him till he gives an indication that he wants to talk about her. Tell Sankatmochan too that he must not mention Nandini at all when he's talking to Prithvi...and vice versa. Under these circumstances, I feel it would be best if they remain unaware of each other's condition. Maybe they will miss each other so much that they will come together again, and all will be right with the world. If that doesn't happen, I suppose -"

Uday Singh abruptly abandoned the depressing statement, unable to complete the thought in his mind.

"Either ways, I feel an important chapter in Prithvi's life is coming to a close," he sighed.

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Seated in the wheelchair that was being pushed by a large guard, Indrajit moved through the passageways of the age-old bastion of his ancestors.

He wasn't comfortable in the wheelchair. And he could only move about in a limited space because of the basic construction of the palace. The indignity of being lifted over stone thresholds and stairways had to be avoided. But he didn't mind moving about in the same places every day. Anything was better than being cooped up in the room.

Indrajit gestured to the guard to move towards a marble portico that overlooked one of the many verdant green gardens of the palace.

It had not rained for two hours, and some blue could be seen in the sky. He hoped it would not rain again for a week at least. He despised the monsoons. The gloominess of the grey clouds, the fearful sound of thunder, the frightening flashes of lightning - everything about the season was designed to torture him...and he didn't want to be upset by anything at this time.

On the outside, he didn't have much to be cheerful about. His jaws would remain wired for some more days, and so he couldn't speak properly yet, and he continued to be dependent on others for the most basic body functions. He also couldn't predict what was going to happen in the coming months or years.

Yet, he had an extraordinary calmness in his heart.

He hadn't known the meaning of peace before he had come to this palace. It was still just an acquaintance. But he was becoming more familiar with it bit by bit, and was beginning to see a glimmer of light in the distance.

In a thousand years, he couldn't have imagined that the bloodlust that had driven him to Aadyabhoomi would end in this moment, Indrajit mulled.

Of course, he hadn't ascertained if Priyamvada could be trusted or if she had any secret agenda. However, he had grown to understand one thing, and that had made a huge difference to his attitude towards her. Whatever her faults were, Priyamvada had loved his father wholeheartedly, and she remained as devoted to him now as she had been when he was alive. And everything she said about his father felt like the truth.