Nandini looked back nonchalantly as the store attendant gaped at her and then at Prithvi with complete confusion.
Komal had not entertained any doubts about the relationship between the two young customers from the instant they had stepped in. So who was this other woman Nandini was talking about…
“Don’t mind his temper,” Nandini said graciously. “He’s just very sensitive to any mention of her because he absolutely adores -”
“That’s enough!” came another growl from behind her.
Komal looked at Prithvi with something akin to disappointment, like he had let her down with his womanizing ways. And with a new determination, she smiled empathetically at Nandini and said, “I’ll show you the most costly pieces we have.”
A few minutes later, Nandini was staring with increasing wariness at the rock-sized diamonds on the most elaborate necklace she had ever seen. It probably cost a million….
And not just that one, almost all of the ornaments looked frighteningly expensive. Why oh why had she asked them to show the most expensive ones in that stupid fit of anger, Nandini mulled miserably. To make matters worse, there wasn’t a single one that really appealed to her. There were diamonds, rubies and emeralds the size of bricks on most of the jewellery, but they seemed to be aimed at impressing rather than charming. She stood up to have a better look at the spread array, but the change in view didn’t help.
“So which one did you like?” Prithvi asked innocently.
Tensing up slightly, she glared around at him. Sure enough, there was amusement glinting in his gaze at her predicament.
But she was far more conscious of the fact that he was standing barely inches away, looking down at her flustered face with a mocking light in his eyes.
“I didn’t like any of these,” she mumbled, instantly looking away to squash the funny flutter in her stomach.
“How about this one? This design is in fashion now,” another store assistant asked.
She was holding out a velvet case which held a necklace of large, strangely shaped emeralds. The design was bizarre and looked positively outlandish.
Trying hard to stop her lips from twitching, Nandini looked back at Prithvi, and whispered, “Do you hate her enough to gift this thing?”
He grinned back at the small but infectious smile on her soft lips. But as their eyes collided, she saw his smile fade away.
Her own smile faltered as it hit her with vicious force….the realisation that she had looked at him with a genuine smile for the first time in days…
An unreadable emotion clouded Prithvi’s eyes, something so stirring and unsettling that it caused a raw pang in her heart, and made her want to reach out to him and….
Then he quietly said, “I’ll buy her all of that if it will make you smile at me again.”
It caught her off guard, and for a moment, she felt unable to respond…
Then, out of nowhere, the anger returned….Anger at herself for being so susceptible to a few words…anger at him for not letting her hate in peace…
She swiveled towards the counter, and drew the diamond bangles to the centre. “I liked the bangles. You can gift her with these,” she muttered.
And without another word or glance, not returning the very puzzled looks of everyone in the shop, she turned and walked blindly towards the door, and stumbled out into the sunlight. Desperate to get away, she hurriedly made her way along the street to get to the auto stand.
She was about to approach the first auto when a female voice made her freeze on the spot.
“Nandini!”
She turned fearfully to see her mother and one of their neighbours walking towards her.
“Ma, what are you doing here?” she blurted out in nervousness, praying with all her heart that Prithvi wouldn’t have followed her.
“Me? What are you doing here?” Sarojini asked, surprised. “You’re supposed to be in college right now!”
“My classes got over quickly,” she lied. She hadn’t been able to complete her classes or attend rehearsals because his highness had given her the time limit of 3 hours to reach the parking lot. But it gave her some bit of satisfaction that she had gotten back at him by adamantly refusing to travel on his bike, or even by the same bus. She had finally reached the designated spot in the market a long while after him, and had been satisfied to find him in an irritable mood, though he hadn’t waited long before turning the tables on her, she recollected resentfully.
“Then why didn’t you come home?”
Her mind went blank for a second. Then on an impulse, she grinned uncomfortably and said, “I - I thought I’ll buy a birthday gift for myself”
Sarojini looked at her in astonishment, misinterpreting the embarrassment on her daughter’s face. “Since when have you been so excited about these things? Usually, you’re the one who keeps telling me not to make a fuss. So, what did you buy?” she asked bemusedly.
“Nothing….it was a stupid idea in the first place,” Nandini said hastily, “If you’ve finished shopping, let’s go home! I’m dying of hunger!” she added earnestly
As the women boarded the rickshaw, she quickly glanced around.
But there was no cause for concern…he hadn’t bothered to come after her…he was probably very busy at the store, fussing over the shade of the wrapping paper used for packing the bangles for the lovely witch …
*******************
In the quiet atmosphere of his room, Prithvi looked at Sumer Singh in astonishment, wanting to believe but unwilling to get his hopes up.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked in a low voice.
Sumer Singh hesitated. “I cannot say I’m very confident, my lord, but Harish Goyal is a famous photographer, and he has a small collection on royal families in India and across the globe. And my friend seemed very confident that he has seen her photograph in the Indian collection.”
“Where is this photographer right now?” Prithvi asked, with cautious happiness lighting up his eyes.
Sumer Singh named a city that was at a considerable distance from Shamli. “It will take us at least 6-7 hours to reach him. We’ll need to leave immediately or very early tomorrow morning…..because he’s leaving for France tomorrow night. But then we might be away all day tomorrow,” he added tentatively.
Lost in the same vein of thoughts, Prithvi didn’t reply for a minute. Then he suddenly realised that Sumer Singh was smiling slightly with a knowing light in his eyes.
He turned faintly red. “That won’t be a problem,” he said edgily, “but I don’t think you should come with me.”
“Why?” Sumer Singh asked, bewildered.
“I’ll be taking my bike,” Prithvi grinned.
Sumer Singh turned pale with the implication. “Cant we hire a car, my lord?” he asked hoarsely.
“That would be too slow,” Prithvi dismissed.
The elderly man swallowed nervously, but with sustained determination said, “I still wish to accompany you, my lord.”
“Say all your prayers before we leave then. I hate it when you start screaming out to your Gods when I’m riding the bike.”
********************
“Two dresses!” Nandini squealed in delight as her mother cheerfully placed two boxes on her lap. She opened the first box and happily took out a beautiful crimson salwar kameez.
“I love it! Thanks ma and grandpa,” she said happily.
“That’s not fair! I get only one for my birthday!” Prakash said indignantly as he peered from behind the couch.
“Your sister buys shirts for you almost every month,” Bhoothnath, who was sitting next to Nandini on the sofa, said reprovingly.
“That doesn’t count. I want two for my birthday too!” Prakash insisted.
“How about if I give you one of these dresses,” Nandini asked sweetly. “Come here, I’ll make you wear this one right now!” she added, standing up with the dupatta in hand to drape it around her younger brother.
Bhoothnath laughed, but aghast at this threat to his manly dignity, Prakash scuttled behind the nearest chair and yelled, “Don’t come near me with that!”
Nandini chuckled and was about to proceed on her mission when her mother intervened.
“Stop it both of you…Nandini, you haven’t seen the other box,” Sarojini smiled.
“Oh ok, I’ll make him wear the dress after looking at my SECOND gift,” she grinned impishly and sat down on the sofa and opened the next box.
In elated surprise, Nandini looked from the gorgeous blue-green chiffon sari to her mother’s shining face.
“Its lovely,” she said gleefully, caressing the simple but graceful designwork on the soft garment.
As she carefully folded the sari and kept it back in the box, Prakash chortled with laughter.
“Why are you laughing?” Nandini frowned at him.
“You’ll look like a fat cow in that sari!” Prakash smirked.
“I what? You - wait! I’ll make you wear this sari now,” Nandini said furiously. With a yelp, Prakash scurried around the couch on which Bhoothnath was chortling, then around Sarojini and zoomed upstairs with his sister in angry pursuit.
************************
As she walked back home from the bus stop, Nandini shifted the large plastic bag to her left hand from her aching right arm. It held cards and gifts from all of her friends in college, and Vrinda had rustled up a bag from somewhere to help her take all of it home. Through some stroke of luck, she had managed to evade Suvek, who had been walking around looking for her with red roses and a large gift box according to Nishi. She had almost been smuggled out of the college premises by her friends to avoid him, Nandini reflected in amusement.
Nishi, Vrinda and Rishabh would be coming home in the evening for a party, as would Sankatmochan, who had also been invited for lunch, several other friends from college, school and the neighborhood and her tuition children too. A few of her parent’s closest friends had also been invited for dinner.
Everyone she loved would be with her today…
So she couldn’t care less if someone had found another way to flaunt his indifference and disdain, she thought cynically, though her steps unconsciously slowed down. In the morning, when her grandfather had handed over Sumer Singh’s gift, and then expressed regret over their absence for lunch, she had been too stunned to even give a coherent response. Then the shock had been replaced by a bitter fury so intense that it had taken every bit of her strength to control the angry tremble in her hands.
What a spectacular show the prince had put on for her benefit…about feeling bad that he hadn’t known it was her birthday…about wanting to give her something she liked…
A shadow fell over the path and she looked up from the ground.
“Many many happy returns of the day!” Sankatmochan said cheerfully.
“Thank you,” Nandini smiled, and then moved forward and touched his feet with respect.
Turning crimson, Sankatmochan embarrassedly blessed her with a long and happy life.
Despite her protests, he took the heavy bag from her hands, and then, digging into the pocket of his flowing kurta, he brought out something and pushed it into her hands.
Nandini looked at the haphazardly packed little box in her hands and warmly said, "Thank you so much, mochi bhaiya!"
"You're welcome, but don't open it now!," Sankatmochan said hastily.
She grinned at the curious discomfort and embarrassment on his face. "Okay, but don't worry, I know I'll love it….whatever it may be."
Sankatmochan breathed easy. But he would have to ensure that she didn't return to break open his head with it later in the day.
"But when you open it, just remember….it was not purchased, it was made – especially for you," he said earnestly.
"You made this?" Nandini asked in astonishment.
"Errrmmm….well, not me exactly….but…someone did!" he said sheepishly.
Nandini shook her head amusedly at his mysterious behaviour.
"That old – I mean, Sumer Singh – did he even remember that its your birthday?"he asked superciliously.
Nandini smiled, "Yes, he was sweet enough to remember and he has gifted me with a beautiful collection of poems. It is wonderful!"
"But I am certain Prithvi will give you the best gift of all," Sankatmochan said confidently.
He regretted saying it immediately as every trace of warmth drained from Nandini's beautiful face and smile.
The rage she had bottled up since morning….the pain she had not even acknowledged…..suddenly simmered close to the surface. She looked away from his amiable countenance, struggling to blink away the infuriating moisture from her eyes.
"He's already given me the best gift possible by not being here today. I didn't know he cares so much for my happiness," she said bitingly.
Defiant words …spoken without the slightest waver in her voice…but the sudden damp sheen in the kohl-lined eyes that were avoiding his gaze told a different story.
"It is not his fault! I'm sure he didn't want to go. In fact, he should be returning by evening, if not sooner," Sankatmochan said hurriedly. "He must be feeling terrible at being away -"
"I'm not upset about it, so you can stop defending your friend," she interrupted resentfully. "I'm glad he's not here today…and the longer he stays away, the happier I'll be!"
This sounded dangerous, he thought worriedly. There had to be some way to lessen Nandini's anger and hurt, or this day could prove to be disastrous for his friend. But then Prithvi himself appeared to be hell bent upon antagonising the girl instead of wooing her ardently…
Sankatmochan couldn't think of anything that would diffuse the situation.
Unless….maybe….
“Oh you shouldn’t have said something so inauspicious,” he complained sorrowfully. “Especially when already….” he paused and sighed very deeply.
The sigh was almost comically exaggerated, but for some reason, it sent a funny spasm of fear through her.
“Especially when - what?” she asked sharply.
“Nothing – nothing,” he said with an airiness designed to frighten rather than reassure.
“Mochi bhaiya!” she said exasperatedly.
Sankatmochan looked at her with resignation, and then, reluctantly said, “I’m just worried because Prithvi’s stars are not aligned properly. They foretell very difficult ….dangerous times… for him.”
“What do you mean…dangerous?” she asked with dry lips.
“His life is in danger….and accidents are foretold if he is travelling,” he answered sadly, starting to hobble slowly. “I wasn’t at home last night or I would never have let Prithvi leave the house!” he said earnestly.
Pale with fear, Nandini followed his lead and began walking towards the house, abruptly feeling queasy and suffocated.
Sankatmochan sensed that he had laid a good foundation, but it would be unwise to spoil the effect through excess. He smoothly moved onto an unrelated topic. “Your grandfather said you’d gone to a home for the destitute early in the morning.”
Still reeling under what she’d heard, it took Nandini a few seconds to reply.
“Nandini!” Sankatmochan called out solicitously.
Startled and slightly embarrassed, she nodded. “Whenever possible, and particularly on all of our birthdays, we visit the shelter with food and clothes and donate some money,” she murmured.
“That is a beautiful custom,” Sankatmochan said appreciatively.
“My father started the practice,” she revealed softly, staring at the temple.
“He must have been a great man, I would have liked to meet him,” he said. “Fathers play such an important role in a child’s life…in influencing the child’s nature. But I was not fortunate enough to grow up under the shade of a father’s love, and neither was Prithvi,” he sighed, stopping under the shade of a tree.
Nandini also halted but didn’t respond, and Sankatmochan wondered if he had raised a sensitive topic.
He was about to apologise when she looked directly at him and asked, “Why does Prithvi hate his father so much?”
Astounded by the completely unexpected and blunt question, Sankatmochan stared at Nandini wordlessly. He opened his mouth, then shut it again as no sound came out. Should he tell her…it could infuriate Prithvi….but if Nandini learnt at least some bit of his friend’s past, perhaps she would be able to understand him a little better…
She swallowed hard. “Please…tell me…I need to know.”
For a minute, she was sure that he was going to deny her request and despair overtook her.
But then, to her shock, he quietly said, “I don’t know the truth. I only know the rumours and gossip I heard long ago…none of which may have a grain of truth in them. But I’ll tell you what I know. Don’t interrupt me when I’m telling the story because I wont be able to continue otherwise, and don’t ask me anything more about them,” he mumbled in a very low voice.
*******************
“Prithvi’s mother…Priyamvada…she was very beautiful. She was barely 21 when his father…Adityaraj….saw her at a classical music concert. According to...whatever I’ve heard...Adityaraj was smitten with her from the first moment he saw her. He pursued her relentlessly. But Priyamvada didn’t reciprocate his feelings and kept her distance, as their families were not on good terms because of some small ancient dispute. And moreover, he was a divorced man…with a son.”
“But Adityaraj was set upon having her. The more she demurred, the more it fanned the flames of his love. He moved heaven and earth to persuade her to marry him, but to no avail. Then Priyamvada's marriage was fixed with another man, and evidently the news broke the last strand of Adityaraj's patience.”
Sankatmochan was sweating profusely now, fumbling over words in the hurry to get them out. “One night, when she was on the way back from a wedding with two of her cousins, Adityaraj kidnapped her and took her to one of his summer houses, and...that night he- he….” He broke off on a shuddering breath.
White with horror and revulsion, Nandini closed her eyes.
With a powerful effort, he continued, “Next morning, he gave her the option to either marry him and achieve respectability, or be left at the gates of her father's house for everyone to see. In her traumatized state, Priyamvada probably didn’t even know what she was doing. But to save her family's reputation, she married him. As you can imagine...all hell broke loose between the families...there were brutal fights and both sides suffered. But no one could alter the fact that Adityaraj and Priyamvada were married. They were disowned by both the families. Then after 2 years, Prithvi was born. Everyone says Adityaraj had tired of his wife by then. When his son was just a few weeks old, and Priyamvada was still recovering from the delivery, he set off with his friends on a trip...there was an accident...he died. The minute Priyamvada’s father heard the news, he set out in search of his daughter and brought her and the child home,” he finished hoarsely.
Nandini stood in abject silence, as the gruesome story cruelly played out in her mind. It had made her sick….but how much more difficult and harrowing it would have been for a child to listen to such a story about his own father…
*************************
In the dark living room, Nandini sat on the sofa with arms wrapped around her knees, gazing out through the nearest window that gave a partial view of Ayodhya’s gate. There was no light in the house. A large pile of unopened gifts lay on the table.
It was almost 10 in the night and not a soul was visible outside. Her family had already gone off to sleep, exhausted by the hectic day. Since morning, the house had seen bustling activity. The luncheon, during which a few neighbours and family friends had come in with gifts to wish her. Then the birthday party in the evening, where all her friends and tuition children had celebrated noisily. Some guests had joined them for dinner. Thankfully, the electricity had gone only after the last of them had left, about an hour ago.
Now it was hot and stuffy, and only tiredness had lulled her grandfather and brother to sleep. Sarojini had bundled her also off to bed and had retired for the night herself.
Nandini had changed into a soft cotton nightdress, waited to be sure that her mother had fallen asleep, and then she had discreetly left her own room and returned downstairs to sit in the darkness, looking into the night like a petrified creature, waiting for some movement…some sign of life…
But why was she sitting like this….waiting for someone who had made a pretense of believing her birthday to be important and then been away the whole day….Possibly, his beloved Natasha had arrived in India and he had gone to visit her…but even so, why couldn’t he have returned by now…
All through the day, she had smiled and laughed and tended to every single guest along with her family. Inside, she had been a pathetic mass of terror and angst because of the ominous statements Sankatmochan had made, her senses solely focused on any sound that could signal his arrival.
She was so exhausted that her whole body seemed to be aching. If only she could wrench out the sick restlessness from her chest and just go upstairs to her room and drop off to sleep like the rest of her family, because for all she knew, he was probably enjoying himself elsewhere and only planned to return tomorrow…
But in case he did return today, maybe she could keep a light at the gate…
Nandini rose from the chair and went into the kitchen. She couldn’t find the candles at their usual place, but after some fumbling in utter darkness, she managed to retrieve one from the shelf, placed it in the stand and lit it. She had just thrown away the matchstick, when all of a sudden, her skin prickled.
She instantaneously ran out of the kitchen into the living room, leaving behind the brightly burning candle, and pulled open the doors forcefully.
He was in the process of turning away, apparently having decided not to disturb the family at this late hour. Now he was looking at her in silence, and even in the minimal light, she perceived the shocked disbelief in his gaze.
Overriding relief was exploding through her nerve endings…..
She wanted to hug him tightly and cry….
She wanted to scream at him…hit him…for putting her through hell…
She didn’t do either.
In dark, thrumming stillness, they stared at each other.
Then he moved up a step and stumbled a little on the threshold, and his arm came around her for support, while the other hand braced against the doorframe.
There was exhaustion in the body pressed against her. Before she could react, he recovered his balance, moved back and quickly said, “Sorry.”
“Are you okay?” she said uneasily, trying to scrutinize his face in the frail light coming from the kitchen.
“I’m fine, just a little tired,” he muttered. “Could you get me some water?”
“I’ll bring it…sit down,” she said gently, moving backwards to give him way to step inside.
She wasn’t sure what she was doing. It was entirely possible that her grandfather, mother or Prakash would wake up and come across them. But she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Prithvi was fine….he’d come home…nothing else mattered….
He came in, but didn’t sit down. Instead, he blocked her way as she started to move towards the kitchen, and uncomfortably said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here all day.”
“It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t expecting you to behave differently anyways,” she returned quietly, and walked around him to enter the kitchen.
“It wasn’t a planned journey,” he said warily, closely following her. “I only learnt of it yesterday -”
“I didn’t ask you for any explanation,” she said serenely, pouring out water into the glass. Half turning, she held the glass out to him, and watched with growing anxiety as he drained it thirstily. In the golden light of the candle, the fatigue on his face was plainly visible.
To steer away from insane urge to hug him, Nandini casually asked, “Where’s Sumer uncle?”
“He wanted to stay back with a friend for a few days,” Prithvi said, returning the glass, and then tentatively asked, “So how was your day?”
“It was wonderful, thanks for asking,” she said dryly, keeping the glass back along with the others. When she turned around, her attention was caught by a large, muddy stain on his left sleeve which had been in the shadows until now.
Her feet moved towards him of their own accord, and her fingers reached out unsteadily to lightly touch the discoloration on the fabric, wanting to make sure that it was nothing more sinister. It felt damp. A frightened quiver zoomed through her, and the growing dread showed in her eyes and the tremor on her soft mouth.
She vaguely registered that his arms were sliding around her waist, drawing her close until she was warmly ensconced against the rough strength of his frame.
“Its just mud,” he said softly, compelling her unwilling gaze to meet his.
She waited for the constriction in her throat to ease before speaking again. He shrewdly sensed the weakness in her, and exploited the moment to bury his face in her creamy neck, causing her heart to jerk painfully. As she struggled to remain coherent, her hand fisted around the stained centre.
“How did – what happened?” she asked huskily.
“There was a small accident on the way – and my hand got a little scrapped,” he muttered uninterestedly against her throat, his warm breath tickling the skin.
The unconcern in his voice gave new life to the last dying ember of resentment, and in livid desperation, she tried to shove him away.
He raised his head and looked at her with profound irritation. “What?” he asked in an aggrieved tone, sounding so positively hurt at the interruption that she almost laughed. Almost.
“ I know you couldn’t care less for me and what I think, but could you please show a little more value for your own life,” she whispered,
“Oh that…I was only speeding because I was worried I wouldn’t get any cake,” he said solemnly.
He still wouldn’t take her words seriously….
“You won’t get it anyways!” she snapped. “I ate the last of it just before you came in,” she lied crossly for added effect.
“Really? In that case…”
To her incredulous shock, he lowered his head and his lips captured hers very gently for a fleeting moment.
Then he lifted his head by an inch, and against her lips, roguishly murmured, “It was a little too sweet for me.”
She reared back in his arms and stared at him in panic….her heart hammering crazily against her ribs.
“What are you doing?” she gasped in horror. “Anyone could come here and see -”
“You’re right,” he said thoughtfully.
She expected him to release her, put some distance between them, and then go back home before they were discovered.
But he didn’t budge an inch. Then as though through a haze, she saw him reach out for the candle on the platform with one hand, while the other maintained its powerful grip around her waist.
His palm closed down over the flame, and the whole room turned pitch black.
************************