A small jerk awakened Kundan Singh from a pleasant doze. He yawned as he looked at the passing scenery. They were about to enter the precincts of the town. With any luck, the excitement lying ahead would make up for the acute boredom he had suffered during the trip.
The men made for very poor company. All of them had kept conversation to the minimum for most part of the journey. He had thought of asking their names, as he'd forgotten the ones mentioned by Vikrant, but had then decided to give them monikers based on their peculiarities. So Chewed-ear was driving, and Scarred-face and Baldie were in the backseat.
The return journey would doubtless be a lot more interesting because of the girl, he mused happily. It would be even better if they were returning with sweet memories of beating up Prithvi. It would be so wonderful to see that conceited fiend being thrashed black and blue.
That was why he hadn't told Vikrant about Indrajit's exact stipulation. Vikrant, in turn, had only told the men that they shouldn't murder Prithvi, not that they mustn't inflict grievous injuries. Kundan Singh dourly mulled that he wasn't going to stop them from smashing up that arrogant devil even if it led to the brat's death. If Indrajit questioned him, he could easily swear that the men hadn't listened to reason.
"Police."
The single word muttered by Chewed-ear snapped Kundan Singh out of his woolgathering. His gaze swung onto the road.
Four policemen were standing by the side of the road, talking to some people in ordinary clothes. A car and some bikes were stationed by the group.
Two uniformed men looked in their direction and strode onto the middle of the road. One of them waved an imperious hand, commanding them to stop and pull to a side.
Luckily, there was nothing in the car that could incite any suspicion. The only weapon in the car was a knife, which was currently being concealed cleverly by Scarred-face. Vikrant had warned the men against carrying guns or any other dangerous weapon. Apparently, their fondness for firearms had gotten them into serious trouble with the police just one month ago, and he wanted them to keep a very profile for some more time.
Even so, it was tempting to ignore the order and make a getaway. But if the idiots sent out an alert to the rest of the force, and the background of the goons came to the fore, Kundan Singh knew he would land in trouble even before kidnapping the girl.
Absorbed in thought, he didn't see the men in the backseat exchanging tentative glances. The man with the scarred face started to reach for the concealed holster, but his bald friend shook his head slightly.
It was small and unlikely to be detected.
The gun would remain where it was.
*****************************
Kundan Singh waited until their car was sailing away from the policemen before grumbling under his breath. He had gotten worked up for absolutely no reason. The officers had enquired about their planned route and then brought forward a very old man. They just wanted Kundan Singh to give a lift to the feeble-looking silver jeweller who'd been stranded on the lonely road because he'd missed his bus. They couldn't take him themselves as they were on their way for a task in the next town.
The two men in ordinary outfits were delighted at Kundan Singh's arrival. They'd apparently been pleading with the police that their car was full, and now practically fled with their vehicle before anyone changed their minds.
Kundan Singh was about to provide an excuse when he'd noticed the police officers distrustfully scrutinising the three men in the car, studying the grisly old injuries and overall seedy appearance. Gauging that it was best to pretend submission and flee before any dangerous questions were asked, Kundan Singh had hastily said that he would gladly help the old man. In a surly tone, one of the officers had warned that someone would check up on the jeweller in the evening to ensure that he'd been dropped to his shop safely.
So now they were stuck with this blithering jeweller who kept thanking them. Not only was it a nuisance, their plans could get seriously jeopardised.
He had to rethink their tactics but the moronic old man just wouldn't shut up!
"…..and on the way back, the bus stopped here and I got down to…you know…at my age, you need to go frequently," the jeweller said shamefacedly. "But the bus moved on without me. It was my good fortune that those policemen were passing by on their bikes and they stopped to help me. I'm very sorry for troubling all of you but I needed to quickly get to my shop."
"It's okay. You've thanked us enough," Kundan Singh said irritably, privately wishing he could throw the man out of the vehicle. He knew the goons were also getting annoyed but were quiet only because of the whispered directives he had given. Vikrant had certainly taught the animals to obey.
"But I'm truly grateful to all of you. You see, one of my most loyal customers will be coming to my shop today. I'd promised Nandini I would have the jewellery set ready by afternoon and I didn't want her to return disappointed."
Kundan Singh nearly scrambled over his seat to stare at the jeweller who was being squashed against the door because of Baldie's size, but restrained himself somehow. He had to tread very carefully. But could it be….could they possibly be so lucky…
With a very neutral tenor, he said, "Nandini? I know a girl named Nandini in the town. Her family presides over the small temple in -
"I'm talking about the same girl! Are you friends with the family?" the old man asked, pleasantly surprised.
Kundan Singh leaned against his seat and laughed soundlessly.
*********************
Sankatmochan moved around the almost empty temple with a focussed speed that belied his usual lethargy. He had to ensure the insides of the shrine were in decent shape before locking it for the morning. Satisfied, he hastily ushered out the sole remaining devotee with promises of conducting the pooja in the evening. Then he quickly locked the temple and began hurrying back to the house
It was very calm outside, and there was a deceiving tranquility in the silence. It made him uneasy. This kind of peaceful ambience on a day that promised to drench the earth with blood before sunset was queerly frightening.
Sumer Singh was standing at the gate. But the elderly man wasn't looking at him or anything in particular. He was clearly absorbed in some deliberations. Perhaps, he too was reliving the events that had taken place at dawn.
**********************
Several hours earlier….
Sankatmochan stared appreciatively at the buxom woman coming from the opposite side. Then he noticed her hefty, mustached husband staring very nastily at him.
He immediately changed direction to obtain the security of the house and chanced to see a familiar figure entering Ayodhya.
It was a welcome sight. He'd been dying since yesterday to know every detail of Prithvi's historic visit to that heartless tyrant. Apart from the reason for the visit, he hoped to hear that his friend had slaughtered that old despot and fed the pieces of his body to wild animals.
He also wanted to talk to Prithvi in private about Nandini. He could still see the innocent girl walking away in shame, unable to even meet his eyes. He had to make sure Prithvi was serious about the relationship, not just using the lovely, gentle girl for carnal pleasures.
He was putting his slippers aside near the steps when he heard Sumer Singh's voice raised in anxiety.
"– but what happened to you?"
Concerned, Sankatmochan hurried into the living room only to see Prithvi going up the staircase to the upper floor. At his insistent questions, Sumer Singh worriedly said something about a muddied shirt and jeans streaked with dried blood around the knees.
Neither of them was forbidden from going after Prithvi and demanding answers. Yet, they remained downstairs, pretending to be engrossed in laying out breakfast, reading the newspaper and examining the contents of the showcase, waiting for Prithvi to return.
Mercifully, he returned in a short while, freshened up.
Sumer Singh instantly got up from the couch and began uncovering the dishes on the table. "Here, my lord, please sit down and have your breakfast."
"No time," Prithvi said briefly, as he sat down on the chair near the door and began putting on his shoes. "Baba, you have two guns, don't you? Are they fully loaded?"
Sumer Singh looked startled by the questions but promptly said, "Yes, my lord. You know I don't feel comfortable if they're not -"
"Good, bring them down. Give one to Mochi and keep one with yourself."
"Keep the guns with us? But why?" Sankatmochan yelped.
As Prithvi gave a very short gist, Sankatmochan listened with an open mouth. It definitely counted among the most bizarre tales he had heard in his life.
Indrajit, of all people, had informed Prithvi that the former's slimy servant Kundan Singh was leading Vikrant's men to Shamli with the intent of kidnapping Nandini. Prithvi had left from Devgarh as soon as he'd received the message. Jiva, another constituent of Indrajit's camp, was following the car that held Kundan Singh and the other goons, and he was keeping Prithvi informed about the vehicle's movement.
It was a crazy story. However, despite his rising tension, Sankatmochan couldn't help but feel glad and relieved at this proof of Prithvi's sincerity towards the girl. His friend may not be in love, but he genuinely cared for Nandini.
He looked at Sumer Singh, who had sat down on a chair next to Prithvi. He could tell that the former army man was stunned but he seemed to have come to terms with the details at a faster pace. However, his immediate question was not about Vikrant or Indrajit or any of the others.
"If you left from Devgarh in the evening, you should have reached here by midnight at the latest. What took you so long?"
"There was a pile-up on the JB express route. So I took a detour."
Sumer Singh stared at Prithvi with disquiet. "But that's the main, and fastest, way out of Devgarh as of now. You must have had to -"
"Later," Prithvi cut in tiredly. "I tried calling both of you several times yesterday evening. What's wrong with your phones?"
Sankatmochan tried to look innocent as Sumer Singh glared at him. "My phone was fine until yesterday afternoon, my lord, but then this ******* borrowed it. He only had it for a few minutes and it stopped working."
"I was trying to look at some pictures of Gods from the internet on his phone because some virus had affected my own mobile during the download," Sankatmochan claimed vociferously.
Prithvi looked at him with revulsion.
Still glowering at Sankatmochan, Sumer Singh said, "I had to take it to the repair shop. They said I could collect the phone by around 10 in the morning."
Keen on changing the topic of the phone, Sankatmochan soberly enquired, "Won't Kundan Singh and the others notice that they are being followed by Jiva?"
"Jiva has been doing this kind of work for years. If he's still dumb enough to get caught by those morons, he deserves whatever comes his way. And it also won't make any difference to their fate," Prithvi said icily.
"Is Vikrant coming too?" Sumer Singh asked.
Prithvi shook his head slightly. "No, he's just sent his men. But I'll be seeing him soon," he muttered grimly under his breath.
"If only we could have stopped Nandini from leaving the house," Sankatmochan sighed. "But she left for college an hour back. She had come to the temple as usual in the morning and she was really tensed because the drama was rescheduled. It is going to be staged today. The poor girl is going to be terrified when she comes to know about Vikrant's intentions."
"She's not going to know anything," Prithvi growled, "I'm not going to tell her and neither are both of you. If Jiva's information is correct, Vikrant's men would have left just an hour ago but I want to make sure she's -," he paused and then said, "When I return, she'll be there with me. I'm going to tell her that you're unwell, and I'll ask her to sit in this house for a couple of hours since Mochi and I need to go out. Mochi, when we reach here, tell her you changed your plans and decided to stay put in the house but that you need her help to take care of baba."
Sumer Singh kept a supportive hand on Prithvi's shoulder. "We'll do everything in our power to protect Nandini."
"We will," affirmed Sankatmochan. "But are you sure we can trust Indrajit in this matter?" he asked bluntly.
"Yes," Prithvi said flatly. "Now listen….."
*****************************
Nandini waited in the wings of the stage, watching the students who were swiftly setting up the props. Daya was screaming instructions at her petrified assistants in between fretting about the principal having left his seat to answer a phone call just before the drama was about to start.
A boy offered her a glass of cold water. She smiled and refused politely.
The make-up artiste was fussing around her with an elaborate kit, applying a quick coat of rouge and lipstick on her subject's features while complaining about Nandini's carelessness in not taking proper care of the greasepaint.
Suvek was standing in front of her and talking with great enthusiasm, intermittently looking irritated by the make-up artist's grumblings. He was explaining something about needing to improvise on the stage and being spontaneous.
There was something unsettling in his words….
She would be able to figure it out if she paid attention. But his words as well as the surrounding commotion seemed to be part of a different dimension. The only reality in her mind was the male who was waiting for her outside.
Had he wished her luck for the play? She couldn't remember. She hadn't registered much of their return journey, and just when they'd reached the gates, his phone had rung. Before answering it, he had distractedly muttered that he would wait for her there itself. She had mumbled her consent and walked towards the college in a daze.
The curious sense of detachment was a blessing in a way. She was no longer afraid of the upcoming performance. After the emotional upheavals she had experienced in the past hours, the drama felt like a very minor ordeal.
Nandini almost smiled as she remembered that the first time she'd read the script, it had seemed like a rather unrealistic love story. At the moment, however, the events in it felt far more plausible than the twists in her own life. At least there was an assurance that this fictional story would have a joyful ending.
The prince and the princess fell in love, overcame all obstacles, got married and lived happily ever after.
The end.
What she would not give to have even a smidgen of that guarantee in real life…
***********************
It was the second-last scene. The one where the leads meet up in private for the last time. It was set in the woods. There were magnificent cut-outs of trees and plants in the background, with thick artificial vines twined around the trunk and hanging down the branches.
Suvek mouthed his lines with as much emotion as he could muster. Inside, he was rehearsing a different set of dialogues. Ones that he would articulate at the end of this scene.
One of the girls in his group, a die-hard romantic, had suggested the idea at the time when Nandini had replaced that annoying female as the lead actress. He'd scoffed at it initially, but later, as the days passed, he'd found himself pondering over the plan seriously. He himself had seen this particular twist in several movies and TV shows.
The hero and heroine would participate in a drama or a dance show or a music contest. Initially, they would perform according to the script, and only use practised moves and songs. And then on stage, in front of the whole audience, their genuine emotions would take over their minds, tearing apart the imposed facades.
It was a risk but you couldn't always play it safe in love. This was his chance to make a lasting impression on Nandini. To win her respect and affection. There was every chance that it would backfire badly. But wouldn't any woman be moved by the brave and romantic act he had put together…
Then again, which man wouldn't be reduced to this state for a girl like her.
He couldn't believe how gorgeous she was looking in all that finery. So beautiful, so pure. That callous jerk would never truly appreciate someone as wonderful as her. Yes, Prithvi didn't deserve her at all. Nandini was meant to be with Suvek.
And wasn't it possible that she had some feelings for him. Maybe she was reluctant to reveal them because she was afraid of Prithvi. But when he, Suvek, would proclaim his love for everyone to hear, she would be encouraged to reciprocate.
Even in the worst case scenario, if it turned out that he had misread her completely, she would need to follow his lead just to keep the play going on smoothly, and he would be able to embrace her for the first time.
Either ways, the effort would be worth it.
****************************
Nandini continued to keep her eyes at a point above Suvek's shoulder. She'd thought of actually glancing at him in the first scene during a small exchange, but the ardent intensity in his gaze had startled her. Thereafter, she'd played it safe and not looked at his face at all.
Overall, the whole episode had been much less traumatising than she'd imagined at the start. At least she hadn't forgotten any lines so far.
This scene would also end in a few minutes. She just had to utter some inane line about her upcoming marriage to someone else and walk away with a bowed head. After her exit, 'soldiers' would storm the stage and attack a pining Suvek, who would fight back and escape.
Then the happy finale….curtains down….and she would be free….
Dialogue spoken, Nandini swiveled dramatically to leave the stage.
"Wait! Don't leave so soon!"
Nandini stopped and turned, bewildered. The scene was supposed to end here. There was no such dialogue at this juncture. Had she forgotten something?
Suvek was walking towards her, looking more infatuated and adoring than ever before.
"Before you go, I must reveal the depth of my feelings for you. You're so beautiful, so kind-hearted. I love you more with every passing day," he said huskily, approaching her slowly.
Now seriously panicking, Nandini turned to seek some instruction from the director. Daya was gesticulating hysterically at Suvek, silently screaming at him to shut up and leave the stage. One of her assistants began trying to draw the curtains, but she pushed him away. Clearly, she was still hoping for the scene to draw to a natural close.
Nandini looked back at Suvek with mounting alarm. He was improvising as he'd said earlier….oh my God….what was she supposed to say in return?
He was still going on about his love for her. And there was something about her perfection and worshipping the path on which she tread.
This. This was the moment she had feared. The moment when she went completely blank and made a fool out of herself in front of hundreds of people.
He was very close now. With dismayed shock, she realised that he meant to put his arms around her.
"I can't think of anything except you," he was saying earnestly. "No one can love you as much as I do. Every day I dream of holding you in my arms. Once I do, I'll never let go."
Furious, she wanted to hit him in the face as much as she wished to run off.
The lights went out.
Surprised cries and exclamations filled the hall at the sudden darkness. Confused by the unexpected outage, Daya and her team were shouting out to each other. There was a loud thump, followed by Suvek cursing a vine that had made him trip.
Nandini, however, was delighted at the unanticipated blessing. Now if only she could find her way off this cursed stage. She spun around and took a tentative step forward in the darkness.
A hand grasped her wrist and began tugging her towards the wings. There was a fleeting urge to resist, but the familiarity of the grip curbed the impulse. It was Prithvi. He'd promised, hadn't he….the lights would go off….
Elated, she wanted to hug him with gratitude but content herself with smiling happily as she followed him, though she didn't speak for the fear that someone would hear them and suspect his involvement in the power cut. They weaved their way through students who were using the light from their mobiles to look around. Some people saw her passing by but didn't say anything or stop her from leaving.
"Nandini! Wait!" Suvek called out from behind her.
He was following them!
The pull on her hand tightened and became more forceful. She quickened her steps in response, anxious to avoid any conversation with Suvek.
Now there weren't any people around, but even without any light, Prithvi appeared confident of his way. The patter of running footsteps reached their ears. Two girls were hurrying in her direction. Nishi was ahead, using her mobile's flashlight function to light up the way.
The clasp around her wrist loosened and then disappeared.
"Prithvi," she called out in a whisper, trying to see through the darkness, but no one answered.
"You were the cutest princess ever!"
At Vrinda's squeal, Nandini turned and grinned at her friends in the weird light.
"I was rubbish on stage," she chuckled. "But at least it's over!"
"You were not rubbish! You did a very good job," Nishi said resolutely.
Vrinda indignantly said, "That creep – Suvek! He made up that last part, didn't he? I don't remember hearing any such lines during -"
The screams made her break off mid-sentence.
*************************
As the short musical note rang out for the second time inside Ayodhya, Nandini turned towards the male figure waiting near the bike. She saw Prithvi running a swift gaze around the area.
"Looking for more people to beat up?" she asked frostily.
"No - to kill," he rejoined coolly without looking at her.
Why not, she thought cynically. He had practiced with two people since morning. His violent skills would probably peak with the third person.
She shouldn't have spoken to him at all. He deserved the silence she had maintained since she'd seen him waiting outside the gates, looking unusually pleased with himself. He'd politely enquired about the play. But she had seen the delight dancing in his eyes. It had only made her angrier. She'd not answered and he had not insisted on a reply, though he'd also made no effort to hide his good mood.
The door opened, drawing back her attention.
Sankatmochan smiled at her, shot a curious look at the person standing behind her, and then limped backwards to allow her to enter the house. There was an odd nervousness on his usually jovial face, but when he spoke, it was in his usual bright tone.
"How was the drama? Did everything go off well?" he asked cheerfully.
The smile on Nandini's face faded as she stepped over the threshold. She stiffly said, "You should ask Prithvi. He'll give you the details."
Puzzled, Sankatmochan shifted his attention to Prithvi, who unconcernedly said, "I don't know what she's talking about. "
Nandini determinedly didn't look behind, but smiled affectionately at Sumer Singh who was lying on the couch. "How are you feeling, uncle?"
"I'm not actually sick, but these kids get worried if I just complain about some weakness," he smiled, and began rising from the couch.
"No, uncle, please don't get up!" she said quickly. "But you actually should go and sleep inside. It would be more comfortable for you."
"It's alright. I'm comfort –
"She's right, you can sleep in the bedroom near the kitchen," Prithvi intercepted steadily.
Not wanting to arouse any suspicion in the young girl's mind about the state of his health, Sumer Singh instantly nodded. After warmly telling Nandini to make herself at home, he disappeared into the bedroom with suitably slow steps.
Prithvi's phone buzzed once. He drew it out of his pocket to read the message.
"It's good that the old man is gone. Now I will regale you with some really hilarious stories," Sankatmochan said with glee.
"But don't you need to go out too, Mochi bhaiya?" Nandini asked, puzzled.
"I changed my plans. But I hope you don't mind being here until Prithvi returns. I can't deal with bedridden people," Sankatmochan grimaced.
"She doesn't mind," Prithvi said absently as he put the phone away.
Incensed, Nandini tartly said, "I can answer for myself."
He looked at her with raised brows. "Do you mind sitting here for a while?"
"Of course I don't, but -"
"Isn't that what I said?" he pointed out.
"Yes, but you -"
"Then stop overreacting," he advised irately and then turned to Sankatmochan. "Keep your past adventures out of the conversation unless you want to become bedridden yourself," he said grimly.
"But those are my funniest stories," Sankatmochan complained.
Ignoring him, Prithvi walked back to the door. Just before stepping out, he halted and looked around at her with an odd expression.
Annoyed as she was, Nandini still wanted to ask him to return soon and rest. But before she could voice the request, he was turning away and then he was gone, the doors closing behind him.
Her eyes inexplicably filled with tears. The agitation she'd been feeling since morning had increased to unendurable levels. The last time she'd felt so uneasy was when – no…no, she wasn't going to equate the situations….she was getting overemotional without any cause.
Nandini struggled to blink away the dampness before Sankatmochan noticed. For whatever insane reason, she didn't want Prithvi to go anywhere. Yet, there was no practical basis to stop him from running whatever errand he had planned. He would return very soon and she was going to be left feeling foolish for being so unreasonably afraid.
"Prithvi, wait!"
Nandini swiveled to see Sumer Singh striding out of the bedroom. He gave her a swift smile as he walked past her, but she noticed his left hand moving a little to the back. Sankatmochan spouted a few incoherent words, and then he too closely followed Sumer Singh to the courtyard, closing the doors behind him.
Both of them seemed a little edgy. Or perhaps she was imposing her own condition on everyone else, she thought wryly.
Nandini strolled to a cozy armchair and sat down heavily. Resting against the cushioned back, she rubbed her aching temples.
How many disasters had taken place since morning…
The horrifying moments in the classroom with Dhiren…..his battered body on the floor….having her heart ripped open by Prithvi….performing in the play….Suvek's ludicrous stunt….his screams….his appalling state…
It was frightening to think that nightfall was many hours away, but the rest of the day couldn't possibly be more harrowing than the first half.
************************
Prithvi silently looked at the small revolver being offered discreetly by Sumer Singh.
"We only need one gun. Keep this with you," Sumer Singh urged.
"I don't need it. Jiva said they are only carrying a knife. And even if they have guns, I can deal with it," Prithvi said calmly.
The response was disappointing but not unexpected, Sumer Singh thought dejectedly.
"Couldn't their weapons have been taken away?" Sankatmochan asked morosely.
As he turned back towards the bike, Prithvi serenely said, "That may have led to a struggle, and innocent people would have gotten hurt,"
"So as long as you are the only one in danger, every risk is acceptable?" Sumer Singh asked in frustration.
"That sums it up," Prithvi concurred indifferently, straddling the motorcycle. "Mochi, keep a continuous lookout until I return. None of them will be allowed to step foot within a mile of this place. But if either of you do see Kundan Singh and the men anywhere near the house, use the guns."
Acknowledging defeat, Sumer Singh nodded. Then he straightened and aggressively promised, "I won't let them even see her."
"That's right!" Sankatmochan said vehemently, "And if they are spotted, we'll call you up immediately!"
"Don't bother," Prithvi said casually as he started the bike. "If they reach this place, it means I'm dead."
************************
Nandini picked up a knife from the cluster on the kitchen platform. It looked a little blunt. She carefully replaced it in the stand and chose one with a particularly shiny blade. She kept the knife on the plate along with the apples, and walked out of the kitchen.
She glanced at the partially closed doors of the room where Sumer Singh was resting. She would slice the fruit and keep it ready for him to consume.
As she sat down at the table, Nandini idly looked out of the window. Sankatmochan was still at the gate, talking to the unknown man who had arrived a couple of minutes after Prithvi had left. A car had also rolled in from the main road and was now parked against the walls of Ayodhya. Was Mochi planning to go somewhere?
She began to cut the fruit but the dupatta slid down from her shoulders and made her stop. She irritably pushed aside the annoying material. She had removed the constricting necklace and some of the other trinkets. If only she could have changed out of this dress too. But after seeing Suvek’s terrible condition, she hadn’t thought of anything except locating Prithvi and making him leave the campus immediately. She had nervously informed a very harried and busy Daya that she would return the costume tomorrow and then had scooted away.
Once Prithvi returned from his errand, she would go to Manju aunty’s house, freshen up and then call up her family. She was dying to see all of them….thank God they were to return within two days. After that, she would play with Arjun, that plump little bundle of joy. She sorely needed some moments of innocent happiness today. Of course, half the strain would disappear once Prithvi returned and the day ended on a peaceful note. She was also disturbed by the thought of a bloodied Dhiren lying in the classroom. Sooner or later, someone would come across his broken body. Part of her dreaded the mayhem and investigation that would follow, but it was very essential that someone find him and take him to the hospital.
As the door opened, Nandini looked from the pieces she had sliced absently. Sankatmochan was limping towards her. Looking very preoccupied, he sat down on an adjoining chair.
Nandini slid the plate towards him, wondering if she should tell him about Dhiren. He might be able to help or at least suggest a solution. But how would she broach the topic….
In a confused moment, she asked the first thing that came to her mind.
“Mochi bhaiya, did Prithvi tell you anything about the visit to his grandfather?”
Prodded out of his thoughts, Sankatmochan vaguely said, “No…nothing at all.”
“Do you think it would have gone off okay?” she asked worriedly.
“I hope not….actually, I hope he killed that man,” Sankatmochan said nastily.
Nandini stared at him in shock. “You shouldn’t say - He is Prithvi’s grandfather!”
Sankatmochan grimaced. “You don’t know that man, Nandini. He deserves to be killed. He tortured Prithvi and his mother, even though they were his own – he even tried to poison Prithvi when he was just a few months old!”
“He what?” she whispered, horrified beyond belief.
“And that was just the beginning,” Sankatmochan said desolately. “Prithvi’s childhood was an unending nightmare. He was starved frequently, beaten up like an animal…..he endured so much…..after a point, he stopped being afraid of everyone and everything…..of pain, hunger…..even death. I’ve seen him face many dangers since we were children, but not once have I seen fear in his eyes. Death means nothing to him, which is why he’s gone off unarmed to fight Vikrant’s men all by himself!” Sankatmochan said bitterly.
Nandini hadn’t realised the knife was pressing into her palm, until it cut into her flesh at Sankatmochan’s last sentence. But despite the hurt, the fist wouldn’t uncurl…
Blank with terror, she asked, “What did you – he’s gone to fight – fight whom?”
**********************
“Take me to him right now!”
Startled by the thunderous demand that had come from the living room, Sumer Singh turned around sharply from the window. Nandini and Sankat’s voices had only been murmurs until now, though the tones had gone up slightly in the past few minutes. He hadn’t paid much attention, and now the damage was done.
Livid with Sankatmochan for spilling the truth, Sumer Singh quickly made his way outside. He paused at the opening to the room.
Sankat was cowering behind the couch, looking timidly at Nandini who was standing in the middle of the room.
She was glaring wrathfully at the fat man. A trickle of blood was dripping down her right fist that was clenching a knife. Her slight form was radiating anger, and there was unbridled ferocity on her usually gentle and warm face.
Sumer Singh suddenly understood Sankat’s condition and fleetingly wished he didn’t have to face her himself.
“I can’t!” Sankatmochan pleaded. “Prithvi wants you to -”
“I don’t care what Prithvi wants!” Nandini yelled angrily, “I don’t care about anything! I want to go to him right away!”
Sankatmochan anxiously said, “We can’t let you leave the house until Prithvi says so.”
Nandini stepped forward, and Sankatmochan backed even further away in fright.
“If you don’t take me to him right now, I’ll go outside and start screaming my lungs out!” she warned harshly. It wasn’t an empty threat. She would do it. Nandini knew she was acting very badly, but at the moment, she had no control over her temper, her actions or her words. Unbearable fear and rage had erupted inside her. And to think that if she hadn’t insisted vehemently, Sankatmochan may never have told her the truth at all…
Knowing he had to calm her down immediately, Sumer Singh hastened into the room.
Nandini spun towards him, and the intensity of the anguish and fury he saw in her eyes nearly made him recoil. But he had to explain the situation to her…..make her understand that they were doing this for her own benefit….
“Nandini, you cannot go in front of those men,” he said persuasively. “They are out to kidnap you and if they -”
“How could you have let him go!” she cried out in distress. “You saw him! You saw how tired he was! He won’t be able to – we have to stop him!”
Sumer Singh felt an unexpected rush of alarm and guilt.
He had seen an unhealthy pallor on Prithvi’s face in the morning. It should have given him pause. But at some stage in the past decade, after numerous experiences, he had stopped seeing Prithvi as being ordinary in any sense of the word….as a person who could be affected by mundane things like pain and exhaustion….as a human being who could succumb to death just as easily as everyone else…
But he couldn’t express the abruptly suffocating tension in front of Nandini. Trying very hard to sound confident, he replied, “I’ve known him since childhood, Nandini. Mere fatigue is not going to hamper his strength. He can still fight and win easily.”
“Exactly! He can take on any number of men!” Sankatmochan piped up from a corner.
Nandini looked at both the men with outraged despair. “I know you both think he is invincible but he has gone unarmed! What if those men have weapons?”
“Don’t worry about that!” Sankatmochan said earnestly, “We know for sure that they don’t have -”
“We don’t know for sure,” Sumer Singh interrupted quietly. Nandini was voicing the same concerns that were troubling him since morning. The same concerns that had made him call for the rented car so they could leave at a second’s notice. If the opposite side possessed firearms, the fight would end even before it started.
He looked at Nandini with a new determination. “Let’s go.”
*************************
Kundan Singh couldn’t stop smiling. The ways of fortune were unexpected, indeed. How beautifully everything had worked out from the moment the old man had joined them in the vehicle.
The jeweller had been very unwilling at first to cooperate in the abduction of the girl, but the promise of a hefty cash reward combined with the veiled threats posed by Vikrant’s men had yielded the desired result. Having given his reluctant consent to assist, the old man had shown good astuteness.
Instead of getting the girl kidnapped from the shop which was situated in a busy, cramped lane, the jeweller had suggested that he would lure the girl to an isolated place under the guise of showing her some rare new pieces of silver trinkets at his other shop. There Kundan Singh and the three men could grab her and leave without the threat of being recognised or obstructed in any way. It had sounded like a somewhat viable idea then, but now, having seen the surroundings, he was convinced that the plan was fool proof.
Far away from hustle and bustle of the market, this certainly looked like the underbelly of the outwardly clean and pious town. Following the old man’s detailed instructions, they had had to drive through almost the whole length of the market, before a crooked detour sent them traversing through many narrow lanes.
The only possible flaw was that the girl could change her mind midway and insist on returning to the main market. The jeweller, however, had appeared to be very confident that he could cajole her into accompanying him to this place. In case she came with family or friends, he would let Kundan Singh know. But that wouldn’t be an issue. The three hoodlums could easily take care of any number of unfortunate people who arrived with the girl, even if the person concerned was Prithvi himself.
As the small lane began widening to reveal the beginning of a vast, open area, Kundan Singh caught a glimpse of a few crumbling structures and some scraggy trees around. There were no human beings in sight apart from a couple of ragged-looking men huddled outside a dirty shanty, plainly high on drugs. Then the dust began rising up and everything became a haze.
Gazing out the closed window at the thick dust swirling around the car, Kundan Singh smiled gleefully at the thought of seeing the girl’s terror and tears. She was the reason Prithvi had insulted and even beaten him up. She deserved every bit of the trauma that was awaiting her.
The sound of a horn blasted through his sweet dream of seeing the worthless girl begging for pity. He turned to the man at the wheel and saw him scowling into the road.
“What is that crazy man trying to do?” Chewed-ear muttered.
Kundan Singh followed his gaze and saw the blurry outline of a man walking in the direction of the speeding car. Then some of the dust scattered and he caught a glimpse of a frighteningly familiar countenance.
And in an instant, everything became clear. Horrifyingly clear.
The policemen, the jeweller, the men from the other car…
All a sham. They had walked into a trap.
“Turn the car around! We can’t - that’s Prithvi!” Kundan Singh screamed. The name had just left his lips when there was a loud noise and the car swerved uncontrollably. Then it slowed down, and after a few seconds, gradually drew to a halt.
Kundan Singh knew he should be glad Chewed-ear had managed to gain control of the car and bring it to a stop safely. But he rather wished the vehicle had blown up and killed him. Then at least he wouldn’t have had to face Prithvi and endure a slow death, he reflected wretchedly.
“Tyre burst. Must have put nails on the ground,” Scarred-face mumbled from the backseat.
Kundan Singh turned sharply towards the men, his small eyes flitting from one face to the other. Secure in their overconfidence, all three were perfectly unconcerned about the nature of the danger that had descended upon them. But there wasn’t enough time to given them more warnings. The car was parked at an angle and he couldn’t see Prithvi, but he could sense the threat coming closer with every second.
“He planned for us to reach this place!” Kundan Singh said rapidly. “When we get out, don’t waste any time but just pounce on him and don’t stop hitting until he’s half dead. But don’t kill him! If he dies, all of you will be killed by his – my master.”
Baldie smiled. “He won’t die. But by the time we’re done, he’ll not really be alive either.”
Then without waiting for Kundan Singh’s response, he opened the doors of the car and disembarked. The other two followed his lead instantly.
Kundan Singh had initially thought of remaining inside, but the bald one’s statement kindled his doused confidence. They did seem capable of handling Prithvi. And he could watch the gory spectacle and rejoice.
**********************
Prithvi walked towards the large men who were lumbering towards him themselves, analysing their fight-warped features with cold indifference. He detachedly reflected again that the fight couldn’t be allowed to go on for too long. He had to do the necessary damage within minutes. If the clash dragged on, the annoying fatigue caused by the gruelling all-night journey could slow him down and dull his reflexes.
And then there was the possibility that they possessed guns. He wasn’t concerned though. Nandini was being guarded as thoroughly as possible. Everything else he could deal with.
He looked at the relatively dwarfish figure sidling out of the car as inconspicuously as possible.
Kundan Singh tried not to crumple up at the withering rage in Prithvi’s eyes.
“Your highness,” he greeted with a quivering voice, bowing.
“Yeah, use that spine while you still can,” Prithvi encouraged callously.
Kundan Singh nearly lost control of his bladder. Giving up the brave façade, he darted back behind Baldie. The assurances he had given himself during the journey now seemed nothing more than foolish lies. How had he forgotten the icy strength and brutal purpose that emanated from an angry Prithvi. He could run but he doubted he would get far before Prithvi caught up with him. If the car had been in working condition, he would have tried to make a getaway at any cost. But there was no other vehicle –
His ears perked up.
He could hear the noise of an approaching car. No, not just one. There were more. With a feeble flicker of hope, he moved sideways so he could gaze in the direction of the divine noise.
Two cars were indeed coming towards them, one behind the other. The vehicles were taking a roundabout route to reach them, avoiding the direct path.
The three men in front of him were staring confusedly at the cars but Prithvi merely looked irritated at the intrusion.
The vehicle in front was an old model but beautifully kept. Then it moved to a side, and the second car, gorgeous and sparkling, became fully visible.
************************
Jiva got out of the first car and banged the door shut, as did two other men. He keenly took in the scene in front of him and almost cheered aloud on realising that the fight had not started as yet. Excitement was surging through him. Indrajit primarily used him for spying purposes, at which he had gained remarkable mastery. But this meant that he had not been part of or witnessed a genuinely fierce fight in a long time. With Prithvi in the picture, the skirmish couldn’t possibly be of any other kind…
Prithvi, meanwhile, was looking amusedly at the second car that had parked itself alongside the first one.
A uniformed man jumped out of the passenger seat in the front and rushed to open the backseat door. A thin man dressed in an impeccable suit stepped out.
Kundan Singh emitted a loud whine of fear, but Indrajit did not look at him or his gawking companions. He walked up to the front of the car and relaxed against the bonnet, keeping cagey eyes on his despised step-brother.
All his men instantly grouped around him. The man who had travelled with Indrajit in the car, and was now standing on his immediate right, surreptitiously fingered the pistol in his pocket, geared by experience to hand it over to Indrajit at the first sign. The other men, including Jiva, waited in readiness for any murmured instructions.
“Just in time for the show,” Prithvi said ironically.
“I’ve travelled far for this. Try to remain on your feet for a minute at least,” Indrajit jeered.
Prithvi grinned. “Brave of you to reveal the one-line speech you give yourself before every fight.”
Indrajit flushed, but didn’t answer. He looked away and smiled coldly at a shaking mass.
“Come here, Kundan Singh. Stand right next to me and let us enjoy this fight.”
With no idea of disobeying, Kundan Singh hurriedly walked over to Indrajit. He was going to be slaughtered. There was no point fighting a predestined event.
Prithvi frowned as Jiva began to approach him. “Stand back,” he said sharply. “I don’t need help.”
As Jiva obeyed, the man with the chewed ear finally looked away from the strange entourage that had appeared out of nowhere and stared at Prithvi.
“You actually think you can fight us just by yourself?” he asked in disbelief.
Prithvi smiled. “Actually, I did tell the little finger on my right hand that it was enough for all of you, but it insisted on bringing me along.”
The one with the scarred face started to snarl, but the bald-headed giant stopped him with a heavy hand on the shoulder. The three looked at each other and then came forward in an oddly synchronised move. Their faces showed varying degrees of calmness and complacency. It was evident that they were supremely convinced about their prowess, individually and as a team.
Prithvi mused idly that it would get over easier and faster if he met them halfway and initiated the fight. Yet, it was faintly entertaining to observe their theatrics as they prepared to attack. He waited with unconcealed impatience as they slowly spread apart, forming an arc around him. The biggest of them, the bald man, was directly facing him.
Prithvi knew what would come next.
The goading.
He was going to be provoked with taunts and threats. Such attempts usually amused him. But not today. He already knew the nature of the goading that was going to come his way. It wasn’t going to take a lot to make him explode. Moreover, he was worn-out and he was angry, which wasn’t a good combination at the best of times.
As expected, the man facing him spoke up and his absurdly shrill voice was the only surprising element. “We’re going to kill you and then we’ll hunt down that girl and give her to our boss. He likes them fresh,” the man cooed, “but we sometimes get the leftovers -”
He bellowed in pain and staggered backwards, clutching his face, blood pouring through his fingers.
His mates stood in shock, shaken by the speed and ferocity of the headbutt. They had only seen a blur as Prithvi moved ahead and smashed his head right into their friend’s face. With their size acting as strong deterrents, they had rarely faced headbutts until now.
And they had never seen such a violent one.
Their bald mate had collapsed to his knees with agonised sobs, but Prithvi looked as unscathed as before, apart from a small, darkening bruise in the middle of his forehead where it had struck bone.
Galvanised by anger, they launched themselves at Prithvi at the same time.
This time, Prithvi did meet them halfway.
***********************
Kundan Singh watched despondently as Prithvi hit Scarred-face so hard that the man’s head snapped back and he banged into Chewed-ear who was right behind him.
Chewed-ear instantly rallied and charged again. He swung a massive fist at Prithvi. Missed.
In the next instant, an elbow struck him violently in the left side of his skull, and then a fist pummelled into his jaw. He lurched a bit and spat out a large crimson blob onto the ground.
As he gazed around dazedly, looking suspiciously like he was trying to figure where Prithvi was standing, Scarred-face surged ahead.
A battering knock to the chest made him convulse briefly. With a low snarl, he attempted another blow.
************************
With mute awe, Jiva saw Prithvi block the attack nonchalantly and then deliver a hard punch on his opponent’s face. The man staggered, clutching his ear as it began emitting copious amounts of blood.
Even from here, he could sense the animal force and strength driving Prithvi’s moves. He was making every strike appear very easy….
But Jiva knew it couldn’t possibly be as effortless as it seemed.
The men weren’t much taller than Prithvi but they were a lot bigger. Also, they were hardened criminals, and while they were losing, they were fighting defeat every inch of the way. Every time it looked like they were overpowered, they bounced back.
And yet, despite their persistence at the game, they just weren’t able to measure up to the pure velocity and savagery of Prithvi’s assaults.
How he wished he could have fought alongside Prithvi. Hopefully, he would win that honour someday.
********************
A couple of cruel punches dealt out in quick succession made the two men lurch away in different directions, bleeding and panting heavily.
They had experienced hundreds of fights, faced all kinds of attacks. But nothing like this. Before they even registered the pain from one blow, they received a few more.
They were struggling to regroup when an inhuman bawl drew their attention.
Their friend had risen to his feet.
There was only a plum mass in place of his nose. The twisted grimace on his face revealed several gaps between his teeth. The area around both his eyes was black, and the rest of the skin was sickeningly multicoloured. The lower half of his face and his entire neck were caked with blood.
Like a deranged giant, the bald man went lumbering at Prithvi, grunting.
***************
Prithvi waited unconcernedly until the man was close enough. Then he kicked the man brutally in between his legs, smashing the groin. The man howled and bent into half.
The other two men rushed at Prithvi.
One grabbed him around the neck with a huge arm. He was squeezing hard enough to cut off the supply of air. The other, the man with the chewed ear, swung a fist fiercely at Prithvi’s gut.
His punch landed in air.
He had missed by a hair’s breadth because his friend clearly hadn’t been holding Prithvi tightly enough, thus letting him dodge the blow. The momentum he had employed made him lose his foothold slightly.
In the moment that he regained control, he decided he had had enough. Vikrant had warned them sternly against using any weapons at all. The gun could admittedly take matters too far, but he had another trusty friend.
He reached for the knife concealed in his clothes and turned.
*****************
Indrajit watched Prithvi roughly wrenching the arm from around his neck, raising it over his shoulder and then bringing it slamming down over hard muscle at a visibly excruciating angle. The man’s first yell had not died down when Prithvi’s elbow whipped backwards to crash into his face.
Much as he loathed his step-brother, he had to admit the long travel had been worth it. The violence was riveting.
He rarely engaged in bare knuckle combat himself. Weapons were an essential part of him. He particularly enjoyed the feel of a gun in his hands during a fight. It fostered a sense of power like nothing else. Swords and knives weren’t unwelcome either…
Apparently, the man with the scar on his face held the same beliefs.
The blade of a knife glittered in the sun as he reached Prithvi whose back was to him.
Indrajit appreciated the cruel force with which the blade tore into the flesh of his step-brother in the same instant that Prithvi hurled away a thrashing body.
A dark stain appeared and began spreading rapidly on Prithvi’s shirt.
Two of his own men gasped in outrage and moved forward as if to punish the man.
“Not serious,” he murmured.
The men instantly halted, shot a frightened glance at him and hurriedly retraced their steps.
At a distance, the man pulled the knife out. Before he could stab again, Prithvi turned around swiftly.
*********************
Kundan Singh cringed.
The elation he had felt when Scarred-face had pierced Prithvi’s side with the knife had partially disappeared when Prithvi had not let out a sound of pain. It vanished fully once Prithvi swivelled around.
There was no sign of agony on the brat’s face, only a blaze of rage. The wound had done nothing but anger him even more.
Kundan Singh straightened slightly. He hadn’t even blinked, but he had missed some piece of the action.
How had the knife ended in Prithvi’s hands?
*********************
Prithvi rammed the knife into the man’s stomach and ripped up the blade towards the ribs. The high-pitched cry told him required pain had been inflicted.
He yanked out the knife and tossed the bloodied weapon aside with disgust.
The man crumpled and fell on his back with a dull thump, blood flowing sluggishly out of the gash in his abdomen.
Ignoring the pain in his side, Prithvi studied the other two men.
The bald man was ineffectively trying to stand up or at least raise himself slightly from the ground. The man who had tried to strangle him was conscious but he wasn’t making any attempt to stir, apart from a slight twitching now and then.
Three down, one to go.
Prithvi looked at the group of men clustered around Indrajit.
************************
Indrajit felt limitless contempt for the son of the w****.
All three men would not be taking part in any fights for a long time, but they would live. Prithvi could have killed them but he had yet again revealed his Achilles' heel….
That ridiculous refusal to take a life…no matter how unworthy it was….
Indrajit observed the bald man dragging himself over to the man with the knife wound. No one else had noticed. Prithvi had his back to the scene and the others were either watching him with ludicrous admiration or exchanging notes on the fight they’d just witnessed. Then he noticed Prithvi coming towards the car.
His step-brother’s eyes were fixed on Kundan Singh, who was looking back with stark fear.
Ah yes, the deal they had made…
Indrajit kept a hand reassuringly on Kundan Singh’s shoulder. The man was juddering in fright.
Kundan Singh turned to Indrajit with palpable gratitude, apparently about to thank him for the guaranteed support.
Indrajit smiled at him kindly. And then roughly shoved him towards Prithvi.
Kundan Singh had barely registered the shock of that push when a blow made his gut burst with pain.
A fist broke his jaw. Steely knuckles split his mouth. Vicious punches crushed his nose into pulp, and then systematically set out to shatter every bone in his body.
He howled and begged but the blows didn’t stop.
Then a powerful fist slammed against his ear. It was the last thing he remembered.
***********************
Indrajit straightened away from the car and walked over to the motionless body at Prithvi’s feet.
“Put him in the trunk. If he’s still alive when we get back, dump him in a hospital,” he said disinterestedly. Two men immediately came forward to follow the order.
Trying to bring his breathing under control, Prithvi tiredly closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t remember the last time he had felt so exhausted. But she was safe now. Nothing else mattered.
A furious holler rent the air.
He whirled around.
Something ripped into his chest….then an unbelievable explosion of pain….
“Damn,” Prithvi muttered under his breath.
“Definitely fatal,” Indrajit smiled with a brief sense of elation through the stunned shouts of his men.
The bald man was still firing away, but the bullets whizzed past Prithvi without grazing his flesh. Such pathetic aim….
Indrajit raised a hand marginally and a gun was instantly placed in his open palm.
“Time to finish the job,” he murmured.
The one who had handed over the gun wore a stoic expression. Jiva, however, was staring at him with sheer dismay. The other men were gazing at the ground rather than watch him kill Prithvi. These brainless puppets that lived and died on his command actually thought they had the right to judge his actions, even if it was just by averting their eyes. They needed to be taught a lesson, but first…..
He looked at his step-brother.
Prithvi was turning ashen very fast and blood was gushing forcefully from his chest. Any other man would have collapsed in agony by now. But the ******* was still on his feet, taking unsteady steps towards the nearest source of support, which happened to be a gleaming car.
Indrajit raised the gun and fired.
*******************************