Later that day, when Nakul had left for his workshop, Madhulika was able to channel her happy mood into shattering her creative block. She worked on the Ganesh murti ceaselessly for the rest of the day, until the onset of dusk made it difficult to concentrate.
She had only just risen from her stool, moving her neck around to get rid of the stiffness, when Chikki came bounding inside, barking urgently.
It was an unusual sight, for her dog was of a mild temperament. Right now, though, his golden body was rigid, dark blonde hair standing erect as he wagged his tail incessantly. He captured Madhu's kurta between his teeth and tried to pull her in the direction of the main door.
The white pillars on the four corners of the courtyard were reflecting the shadows of the setting sun when Madhu stepped foot in the hallway. Chikki led her to the porch, where she was greeted by four men.
Her dog's behaviour suddenly made a lot of sense.
Standing outside the iron gate leading to her property was the same goon who had choked Madhu after burning Rani. Next to him was a familiar-looking man. Short, stout with a moustache shaped like a downturned V and a plastic smile that didn't reach his eye. He was the man who had thrashed Champa's son Kamal, the infamous Brigesh Babu Nakul had told her about. The man beside him looked exactly like Brigesh Babu, only much taller and clean shaven.
The fourth man was the odd one out, with a head full of ugly, copper-red hair, indicative of his attempt to dye his white streaks with henna paste. He wore round, gold-rimmed glasses and a faded blue checkered shirt, looking like a stereotypical small-town teacher, the kind whom kids would fondly refer to as Master ji.
Chikki continued barking as Madhulika stood rooted on the porch, unable and unwilling to move. She could feel them looking at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to open the gate and invite the party inside. She wanted to run back around the house to find Nakul.
It wasn't as if the gate was physically stopping them. With the exception of Brigesh Babu, all three of them were taller than it. If they were here to attack her, then they could've simply scaled the perimeter wall.
This had to be a social call.
Madhu felt her own lips stretching into a polite smile as she walked towards them, slowly unbolting the gate.
"Namaste," she mumbled, her voice dipping questioningly. She needed answers.
The short man smiled. Madhu noticed that while his wrinkles gave him away, his hair and moustache were jet black. "My name is Brigesh and this is my son Vishal," he said, pointing to the taller man who resembled him. "I heard Old Thakur sahib's granddaughter is visiting."
"That's me."
His smile widened and he joined his hands in a Namaste. Madhu stiffened.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. My father was a great friend of your grandfather."
Madhulika highly doubted that, but she didn't respond. Brigesh continued.
"We were just concerned about certain state of affairs in Bhabra and were hoping you, with your money and influence, would be able to help."
Madhu had spent enough years negotiating hard deals to know that this wasn't a simple charity request. The man in front of her was acknowledging her power, he was here for an alliance not a battle.
Her uneasiness waned a little. He was not here for picking a fight. Not today.
"Please," she said through clenched teeth, struggling to maintain her smile. "Come inside." Allowing three of them into the enclosure, she closed the heavy metal gate in the face of Brigesh Babu's goon. "Not you."
"Let him in, he's under our employ." Unlike his father, Vishal didn't bother to disguise his contempt with a customary smile.
"Well then, you should hire people who respect women. And animals. This man has assaulted a person in my employ and he's not welcome here."
Madhulika had to use the last remnants of her control to remain still when he threateningly stepped towards her, but Brigesh grabbed his arm to hold him back. "It's okay beta," he told his son, before addressing Madhu. "The only reason we brought him here was so that he could apologise. But I'll do as you say."
By this time, Madhu's smile had slipped, and she had to harden her features to disguise her apprehension. She could feel beads of sweat on the back of her neck, unsure about how long this game could last, or for how long she could keep up with the charade. She could already feel her mask slipping away.
Her eyes moved to the copper-haired man, taking in his visibly confused state. He didn't look like one of Brigesh's men. Her doubt was cleared soon enough by Brigesh himself. "This is my friend Mr. Rana. He is the headmaster of the school in the neighbouring village."
Yet another indication of armistice. If Brigesh wanted to kill her he wouldn't have brought a third-party witness.
Madhu wordlessly joined her hands in the headmaster's direction, bowing her head in a silent Namaste, before showing them into her drawing room. Chikki remained on her heels and resumed barking.
Madhu grabbed a bowl that was lying on the floor of the hallway inside her house, and placed it in front of Chikki. He picked it up with his mouth and took off in the direction of the uncultivated field where Nakul's workshop was. For the first time Madhu was thankful that Chikki was just a greedy brat.
She hoped Nakul would understand her message. The bowl was the same one Nakul fed biscuits to Chikki in. He was sure to come back inside the kitchen, back inside the house to get said biscuits.
When her dog was out of sight, Madhu entered the drawing room herself.
Brigesh had settled himself in the old wooden armchair, the same one which used to be the preferred seat of her grandfather's. His stout frame wasn't impressive enough to suit the chair, and Madhu resented the way he rocked in it, his chubby feet barely grazing the ground. His personality was by no means scary. In fact, he looked like the kind of passer-by who could earn a respectful nod from Madhu while waiting in the ATM line or something. His son Vishal, on the other hand, looked every bit of a stoic mafia-type, except, akin to a mindless brute, he seemed incapable of reigning in his anger.
The old headmaster, sitting next to Vishal, looked comically ignorant of the thick tension enveloping the room. "You have a beautiful home," he commented good-naturedly.
"Thank you." She moved forward to stand over them, separated only by the wooden centre table. "Would you like some chai? Or coffee?"
"Oh no we're just here to—"
"Yes, chai sounds great," Brigesh cut across the headmaster. "Though I don't take sugar in mine, diabetes you know?"
Madhu hummed lowly and quickly excused herself to escape to the kitchen. She didn't know why exactly they were stalling the impending confrontation, but she wasn't complaining. It gave her much needed time to prepare herself.
Throwing in all the ingredients inside a fresh pan, she shakily fired up a lighter beneath the burner, feeling the heat of the slowly vaporising water hit her sweaty face as it all boiled.
"Madhulika?"
She almost knocked the pan off the stove at his voice, before relaxing. Relief flooded through her as her heartbeats slowed.
"Nakul!" She breathed. "Bri--I don't know what to do he--they--"
He quickly walked up to her, warm hands gripping her shoulders, gentle yet firm. "Relax. Breathe in and out, and speak clearly, I can't understand you."
She did as he said, and once she was able to pull herself together, she slowly repeated her words, clearly enunciating each syllable. "Brigesh Babu is here. And his son. And this random ass dude who is a principal of some school."
A shadow fell over his face. "Did they hurt you?"
"No, they said they're here to talk."
He nodded curtly, hands leaving her arms. "Wait here," he said, walking out.
The chai was sufficiently boiled and ready by the time Nakul re-entered the kitchen, carrying a handgun and wearing his aid.
"It's just a precaution, don't give me that look. I'm licensed." He bent down to strap the firearm in an ankle holster, before pulling his jeans over it, concealing the weapon. "Let's go."
Madhu poured the tea into three cups, dumping five teaspoons of sugar in Brigesh's, before following him out.
She had a distinct feeling that the three of them had been talking before Nakul and her stepped in the room. Nakul took a seat just opposite to Vishal, with the latter not taking his eyes off him. Brigesh stopped rocking in the chair when Madhu settled on the single sofa next to him, after putting the tea tray down.
"So, how's everything Rana sahib? The school running fine?" Nakul eventually said, breaking the thick silence and ending his mini stare off with Vishal.
The old headmaster perked up. "Oh, it's going very well. In fact, the children are organising a Ramlila, and we're raising funds for it. I came here to talk to Sunanda ji about it, but she is visiting the district collector today. Though her husband told me that the famous Madhulika Thakur is in Bhabra these days." He warmly regarded Madhu. "I was hoping you could attend the function as the Chief Guest, your presence would greatly inspire the students."
Though Madhu knew it was a well-practised speech, Mr. Rana looked fairly genuine when he delivered it. "I would love to," she replied. "How many kids from Bhabra attend your school?"
His smile dropped at that. "Oh uh, not many. Just three."
She leaned forwards. "Only three? Where do the rest go?" It was a stupid question; Madhu knew what the answer was going to be. But she didn't want to accept that the lives of more than seventy children in Bhabra would be wasted just because the government, or even the community, hadn't bothered to build a school here.
She was also a part of this careless community.
"Nowhere," Nakul replied, confirming her guess. "That's why Sunanda wants to build a school here."
"She's Mrs. Vishal to you," snapped Vishal. It was only then that Madhu saw him sitting at the edge of his sofa, looking like he'd jump and punch Nakul the very second.
"We're friends, I can call her whatever I want." Nakul's voice had risen ever so slightly.
"She's my wife!"
"Just barely."
Vishal leaped on his feet, a gun emerging from behind the short of his back. Nakul was quick to retaliate.
What the—
A yelp came from the unassuming headmaster, who knelt down and tried to hide his crouched form as the two men pointed their loaded weapons right between each other's eyes. Madhu had risen to her feet as well, and Nakul was quick to grab her wrist to shove her behind him. Brigesh Babu continued rocking, appearing completely unrattled.
All the shouting had alerted Chikki again, who came running in, barking loudly. He immediately went to Madhu, stopping next to Nakul and snarling at Vishal. Brigesh gave him an amused look, before he finally got to his feet too.
The old man barely reached his son's shoulder, but when he asked Vishal to lower his gun, the latter did so without protest. After a moment's hesitation, Nakul followed.
Brigesh's beady black eyes shifted to Madhu. "Feeding me sugar laden tea won't kill me. But if you don't learn to put a leash on your dog, then the lives of Champa or her bastard son or even these illiterate runts you seem so worried about would be the least of your concerns." Glancing at Nakul one last time, he turned around. "Let's go son."
"Ask Champa to drop the charges if she doesn't want to end up like her pathetic goat," spat Vishal, far less subtle with his threat than his father, before the two of them stormed out, leaving the copper-haired headmaster still shaking on the floor.
"Rana sahib," Nakul said tentatively. "Let me drop you home."
"No!" He rapidly shook his head. "I...uh...I cycled here, it's alright." He too rushed out of the house, as if confronted by the deadly plague.
Nakul sunk down on his seat when they were finally alone. But Madhu wasn't letting go of what happened anytime soon.
"Well? Would you care to explain what that was about?"
Nakul sighed, his tired eyes meeting hers. "Remember when I told you that Vishal and his men attacked me last year, accusing me of having an affair with his wife?"
Suddenly, Madhu felt no desire to obtain any answers, afraid of where he might be going with this. "Yeah..."
"Let's just say that accusation wasn't entirely false."
And that is how this chapter ends. Shubh Deepavali!
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Ramlila- a dramatic enactment of Ramayana, which is an epic poem narrating the life of Lord Rama.