Prithvi strolled absentmindedly along the empty path, a backpack slung across his right shoulder and a large duffel bag in his left hand.
He would have reached Shamli last night itself, but he had taken a detour to help a stranded couple. And to make up for the lost time, he had flouted Sumer Singh's strictest instruction yet again and had not halted at night.
He had intended to take a long nap upon arriving at the house. But now, though he was excessively fatigued, it seemed unlikely that he would be able to sleep, Prithvi thought resignedly. It would be a better use of his time to visit the hotel and get the whole story from Disha. He would freshen up and set off immediately...
His pace slowed as Vrindavan and Ayodhya came into view. He smiled slightly, and strode towards the houses with a little more swiftness.
When he reached Ayodhya's gate, he paused to gaze with affection at the twin houses. Despite the disturbance he had encountered on the way, the first sight of the houses had elevated his mood by many notches.
It felt as though he was inhaling fresh, beautifully perfumed air after having spent a thousand years in a prison cell located in the earth's bowels.
Prithvi opened the gate and entered the courtyard. It seemed to have become a replica of the one outside Vrindavan. He took the house keys from underneath the thriving rose plant, and opened the door. Then he brought his backpack and duffel bag into the house and closed the doors very lightly.
Prithvi stood motionless in the living room for a few minutes. Then he removed his boots, and proceeded to walk idly through the ground floor. Although he was lost in memories, he didn't fail to notice that all the rooms looked inordinately clean and well-maintained.
Growing more preoccupied, Prithvi took his bags and went upstairs, where his room proved to be even more spotless than the rest of the house. There wasn't a speck of dust on the furniture or any musty smells in the room. In fact, there was a lingering fragrance that was strangely relaxing...
Annoyance flickered upon Prithvi's face.
He kept both his bags on the wooden table in the room and opened the duffel bag to take out a set of clothes.
A short time later, he had showered and changed and was ready to leave. He walked to the table to get his other phone from his backpack, but then his distracted gaze fell on the view from the windows.
He gazed at the woods for some time. Then he walked to the bed and sat down tiredly.
The room definitely had a soporific effect. The drowsiness that had fled was returning with interest now.
He lay down on the bed, hands linked behind his head. The elusive fragrance in the room was concentrated here...
Slowly, a deep tranquility settled over him, and he could no longer keep his eyes open...
In sleep, he rolled instinctively onto his stomach, mainly because it was the position that he found most comfortable...and partly out of a subconscious need to be closer to the sweetest scent he had ever inhaled...
******************************
Nandini marched hurriedly towards the temple, oblivious to the pain in her legs and soles. Her shawl was in her hands now because she was perspiring.
This was not how she customarily made this trip every Friday.
It was her usual practice to walk slowly, keeping the image of the divine mother in her mind and chanting sacred prayers internally. After the darshan, she would spend half an hour in the temple premises, soaking in the beautiful atmosphere. The entire experience invariably filled her with tremendous peace and comfort.
That was why she had awaited today's visit to the shrine with more eagerness than usual. She had needed the solace offered by this weekly ritual after her confrontation with Priyamvada.
She recalled very little of what she had said in the banquet hall. She did, however, know that her words had been cutting, even crude. But rage and anguish had demolished her composure even before she had entered the hall. And the sickening spectacle of Rajeshwari kneeling before Priyamvada had been the last straw. A chilling blast of harrowing memories had destroyed the final restraint on her temper. But in the end, she had not gained an iota of satisfaction or peace after having spewed venom at the woman she despised so heartily. On the contrary, she felt she had disgraced her own self by getting into a cheap spat with a woman like Priyamvada. And then the act she'd put on yesterday to cheer up Rajeshwari had sucked out the rest of her energy.
So, despite the perturbed murmurings of her heart, she'd been pleased and enthused while leaving her house this morning.
Then she had come face to face with him...and whatever had happened before had lost its significance instantaneously...
When her emotions had come under control, her mind had taken up the responsibility of continuing the chaos, reminding her that there were many huge issues that needed to be analysed exhaustively.
The foremost of which was the crucial matter of Rajeshwari. It was clearly the reason for his arrival in Shamli.
Then there were the invaluable bits of information about him that she had received from Rajeshwari. And what she had seen and sensed for herself after the meeting at the stepwell.
There were Priyamvada's words, which had been cut into her psyche.
There was her innocent and trusting family. They were unaware of the upheaval that had happened in her life years ago, and they were still in the dark about many things.
There was a past she had shared with him...and a traumatic part that he too did not know about...
However, once Nandini became more aware of her surroundings, none of the claims, doubts, fears or truths occupied an infinitesimal portion of her mind.
All she was capable of thinking about was the extreme exhaustion she had seen on his face.
He had seemed tired on that morning in Nikumbh too, but not like this...
Rajeshwari had said he was on a holiday in the mountains, which meant he must have travelled through difficult and dangerous routes to reach Shamli. From his tired appearance, it was obvious that he had not rested for a very long time. He had probably driven all night. Would he know that Sankatmochan kept a set of house keys under the rose plant? He would for sure...since it was an open secret of sorts. If not, he only had to visit Vrindavan for another set of keys. But if he had done so, her mother would have called her up to inform her about his arrival. No...he must have taken Sankatmochan's keys... and been welcomed by an empty house...
Nandini thought about the kitchen in Ayodhya. Although Sankatmochan ate his meals in Vrindavan, she still stocked up the kitchen for him regularly, especially with the snacks that he liked. But there wouldn't be any milk in the house this morning...or coffee or bread or anything that could be consumed quickly by a hungry person.
The only comforting factor for her was that the house was clean. She had dusted the whole place yesterday morning. One of the bedrooms on the first floor would be particularly spotless, and the bedsheet in that room had been changed three days ago. It was unfortunate that she had slept on it for two nights, Nandini thought with an odd uneasiness. But there were fresh sheets in the cupboard...
Although her legs and soles were in agony, she managed to reach the temple much earlier than expected.
In the shrine, Nandini made her offerings and prayed with pure devotion and gratitude. But immediately after the darshan, she left the shrine and headed straight to the provision store that was among the very few that would be open at this time.
On the way, she called up her home under the guise of wanting to ask her mother if she ought to buy anything while returning home. The casual conversation that ensued was sufficient confirmation that her family did not know about his arrival in Ayodhya.
Upon reaching the store, Nandini purchased a tetra pack of milk, a jar of branded coffee, a loaf of bread, a box of breakfast cereal, jam, butter and three large bottles of mineral water. On an impulse, she also purchased a newspaper from a nearby vendor.
Then she caught a rickshaw and headed home.
She was not acting on any conscious plans or thoughts. She wasn't thinking about anything at all...
As her destination came closer, she became dimly aware of her mind's frustrated warnings that she had to stop and think about what she was doing, and the numerous possible repercussions of her actions. But the warnings seemed to be coming to her from a faraway land. As of now, she couldn't hear or comprehend any of them.
With the absence of traffic, Nandini reached her locality in no time. But when the two houses came into view, her spirits plummeted.
There was no SUV outside either of the buildings.
But then her heart informed her calmly that he was in Ayodhya. There were logical reasons for the belief, Nandini pointed out to herself irritably. Since he had definitely come to Shamli for Rajeshwari's sake, he wouldn't leave so soon. Maybe he had parked the SUV elsewhere. Or he might have gone out. But that seemed unlikely when she recalled the tiredness on his face.
But irrespective of where he was, she would keep the provisions outside the door and leave.
If it was anyone else, she would have had to wonder if it was necessary to let them know that she was the one who had brought the items. But with him...no...she didn't have to do anything. He would know it was her, she reflected with a bittersweet faith. And then if he didn't want the provisions, he could throw them. He was entitled to do so.
The rickshaw halted in between the gates of both the houses.
Nandini paid the rickshaw driver, and got down. She looked at Ayodhya's peaceful façade.
The padlock on the door was gone.
Nandini stared at the doors, her large, expressive eyes haunted by unbelievably strong emotions. She had been focussed only on bringing the provisions to his doorstep. But the instant of acute despair that she had experienced in the rickshaw had shattered the strange purpose-driven trance that had protected her till now.
Her heart shuddered on sensing the approach of a destructive avalanche of crippling insecurities...which were only portion of a million confusions, fears and doubts...intersecting and entangled in a hopeless jumble that was suffocating her...
...You don't have any place in his heart anymore...
...Time changes everything, doesn't it? Prithvi has moved on with his life, and you must have done the same.
....you know how I was feeling guilty about meeting you, so I told him the truth.
And he was fine with it...it wasn't a big surprise because I know he doesn't care about the past anymore. But I wasn't expecting him to be so cool about it...
... indifference is the end of the story
He was standing far above her, gazing down at her with a blazing intensity...
...and then he was looking at her with irritation as she blocked his path.
...pray to all the gods you know that our paths should not cross again
Fighting to maintain her composure, Nandini opened Ayodhya's gate, entered the yard and closed the gate behind her.
She could place the bag on the right side of the stairs, where it wouldn't be directly visible if seen from her courtyard.
Or maybe she could give it to him in person...
Nandini was assailed by an unexpected surge of loathing for her looks, hair and clothes.
The dress she had worn today - a somewhat faded maroon kurta and dark green leggings - was older and uglier than the ones she wore to office. Her face was plain aside from a small bindi on her forehead. She touched her half-open hair miserably. She had washed it this morning, and it was still a little damp...and it was way too short...
Her inner voice reminded her acidly that the one of her biggest fears at this moment was that her intentions would be misunderstood, and the chances that he would come to wrong conclusions would increase if it seemed that she had made an effort to look nice...
Perspiring while also feeling cold, Nandini walked up the two steps that led to the doors and reached out to ring the bell. Her hand recoiled. If he was sleeping, she didn't want to disturb him. She could knock on the door. That would be enough. Her hands were reluctant. But with a force of will, she raised her right hand and knocked twice on the doors. They swung inward by an inch.
Nandini tightened the hold on the bag, afraid that it would slide out of her chilled fingers. Struggling to be calm, she waited for the doors to open fully...or for a response of any kind.
Moments ticked away...but nothing happened.
It is a reprieve, her mind advised. Be grateful...place the bag outside and leave...
Nandini felt incapacitated by uncertainty for a couple of minutes. Then she raised an unsteady hand and knocked again.
The quietness continued.
The agony of indecision kept her standing on the top step for another minute.
Her greatest and most paralysing fear - which was not letting her move forward - was one that had arisen after the shocking meet at the stepwell. Until then, she had believed that she remembered everything about their relationship. But somehow...somewhere along the way...she had forgotten two staggeringly important details.
How powerful his presence was...and the unbelievable turmoil he could trigger in her with just a look...
But couldn't it be that shock and imagination had distorted her impressions and made him seem so much more intimidating than the person whose image was imprinted on her heart, Nandini argued with herself staunchly. And even if her impressions had been accurate, it was only the unexpectedness of the situations that had paralysed her at the stepwell and today morning as well. It would be different when she was prepared mentally. After all, she also had changed in the past few years, hadn't she? She was no longer the timid, innocent and gullible eighteen-year-old girl who would melt and become flustered and tongue-tied if he merely glanced at her...
She had become stronger over the years. If that was not the case, she wouldn't have prayed for a chance to have a conversation with him.
She was unutterably grateful that her wish had been granted. Now if the blessing was going to be squandered in a painful scene, she would apologise to the divine powers and find a way to make her peace with it...
Nandini scanned Vrindavan nervously. She would not be expected to return for another forty minutes at least. If her mother was in the living room or kitchen, she would have heard the sound of the rickshaw and opened the door. So, in all likelihood, her mother was upstairs right now. Prakash would have left for school. And Rajeshwari would be asleep.
As if through a haze, Nandini saw herself pushing open the doors and stepping into the house. The coolness of the floor offered immediate relief to the raw, stinging soles of her feet.
Her attention, however, was instantly consumed by a pair of large black boots near the door.
Besides that, the living room looked just as she had left it yesterday morning after her routine cleaning. And it was still the same room in which she had been unspeakably cruel...
It had taken her a year to be able to stand in this space without being reduced to a shivering mess.
Nandini stirred slowly and carefully with the air of a person finding their way through a fog. She placed the bag with the provisions on the dining table.
There...she had fulfilled her purpose, for which she had broken basic rules of propriety, made a mockery of the logical portion of her brain, and belittled herself. She could go back to Vrindavan with a little peace.
She couldn't predict what was going to happen later. There were too many unpredictable elements in play right now. But at the earliest opportunity, she would find a time when she could walk up to him in a dignified manner. And maybe...maybe he would be willing to speak to her. She had to be emotionally prepared for that conversation, and needed to decide what do say. This wasn't the right time for it by any stretch of the imagination
She could leave now. She had to leave now.
And she would...but she needed to see him first, Nandini admitted to herself miserably.
It was undoubtedly a reckless decision. If she did succeed in meeting him, it was inevitable that she would leave the house with a new load of painful memories. But that would be true if she met him later in the day or tomorrow or the day after. She could handle the hurt...she couldn't endure not seeing him for any longer.
Nandini kept her shawl and handbag on the dining table and then vacillated unsurely.
She didn't want to disturb him if he was sleeping. So, the best thing would be to call out to him softly.
Such a simple thing to do...call out a name...
Her courage shrivelled a little more...and the sound of her frantically beating heart grew louder...and louder...
She couldn't do it.
Then, simultaneously astounded and appalled by her own actions, Nandini hesitantly began to walk through the ground floor of the house.
Her horrified conscience screeched at her to stop. But her heart was in control for the moment, as if seeking revenge for the innumerable times when she had ignored its cries.
She moved very slowly and warily, halting uncertainly each time her ears caught a noise. But even before she had started the uneasy search, she had known that he was not on this floor...
Tormented by inexpressible emotions that had been bottled up for too long, Nandini walked to the base of the stairway and looked up. There was utter silence upstairs as well.
Maybe her instincts were lying. Maybe he wasn't here, she argued with herself weakly. He could have gone out and forgotten to lock the doors. In that case, it wouldn't be too wrong of her to go to the first floor...just to confirm that he indeed wasn't at home...
It took Nandini some moments to place her foot on the first step. She continued to hesitate every few seconds while ascending the stairs, but now she was being dragged ruthlessly by a power over which she had no control...
The doors of his room were wide open.
A glimpse. Just one glimpse of his room...that could be forgiven, couldn't it, Nandini debated unconvincingly while walking ahead with faltering steps.
She paused irresolutely outside the room, and listened wretchedly to her enraged conscience's accusations that she was shameless and disgusting for violating his privacy in this atrocious manner.
But the force that had hauled to this point had been too strong for her from the start, and it would not release her until she had done what it wanted...
Nandini submitted helplessly to the pull of an unseen hand and crossed the threshold.
Feeling strangely unsteady, she advanced a couple of steps, and then froze.
A man wearing a white shirt, jeans, and a black coat was asleep on the bed.
The hostile voice within Nandini fell silent instantly, as though it too did not want to disturb his rest. Or maybe it took pity on her on realising that she couldn't offer an excuse for her despicable actions anymore.
The moment she had seen him, she had become excruciatingly conscious of everything, including her own self.
She approached the bed soundlessly, and gazed silently at his exhausted face.
An indescribable, rapturous joy gushed through every fibre of her being. It danced wildly for hallowed moments...then it was suddenly trapped in an intimate embrace with an unbearable pain...
Scalding hot tears flooded Nandini's eyes without warning, and her lips trembled.
With drops of water cascading down her face in a steady stream, she gazed upon him with immeasurable love and tenderness, and whispered the name that had not left her lips for years.
"Prithvi..."
Bending slightly, Nandini instinctively extended a hand towards him. She wanted to touch him...to kiss him...
But her hand stilled before it could come into contact with a stubbled cheek. As agonised love raged like an animal against the prison of indomitable willpower, her hand trembled with the might of a tortured longing.
She hadn't known until now that the yearning to touch another human being could be so deep and acute that it could make a person feel that they were on the brink of insanity...
Nandini withdrew her trembling hand and pressed it against her mouth.
She stared at him tearfully for some more minutes, then retreated unwillingly and sluggishly, gazing at him till she had reached the doors.
Then she tore her eyes away somehow, and forced herself to leave the room, rubbing the tears away.
Prithvi remained still for a while. Then he opened his eyes and shifted slowly onto his back. He crossed his arms behind his head again and stared at the white ceiling. His features were calm and detached, with no signs of the nearly uncontrollable storm that had thundered within him a short time ago.
***************************
Nandini managed to descend the stairs without stumbling, but then her wobbly legs forced her to stop. She sat down tremulously on the bottommost step, her head in her hands.
She had shut the doors on several realities some years ago, and now they were bursting open one by one, forcing her to confront them...
She continued to be seated until the recollection of the pallor on his face smacked her into consciousness.
Grasping the bannister, Nandini rose to her feet. She gave herself a minute, and then, walked determinedly towards the dining table. She removed the newspaper from the bag, and placed it neatly on the table. Then she took the rest of the items to the kitchen.
Nandini cleaned the kitchen platform, and then arranged the contents of the bag on the spotless surface. Taking care to work as noiselessly as she could, she washed a steel saucepan, a plate, a bowl, a couple of spoons and three mugs and placed them near the gas stove.
She took a bottle of sugar from one of the cabinets and kept it near the coffee. He had preferred to take black, sugarless coffee once. Did he still like it the same way? Did he even like coffee now, she wondered hopelessly.
He could be hungry when he woke up. What if he didn't want to come to Vrindavan...and if he didn't want sandwiches or cereal...
Nandini opened one of the steel containers and took out an unopened packed of flattened rice. She kept it on the platform, wondering if she could prepare poha. But he had disliked her cooking, hadn't he? Even if he hadn't, why would he want to have anything she had prepared after everything that had happened between them...
What on earth was she doing in this kitchen, Nandini thought with a sharp rush of dismay and bitterness. She might as well have written her feelings on the walls in colourful glitter. Had she lost her sanity completely...
Just as her eyes began to burn with the pressure of tears, she heard her phone ringing.
Alarmed, Nandini ran to the living room, and with scrabbling fingers, she took her phone out of the bag. She cut the call first, and then kept the phone on silent mode. Then she looked distractedly at the phone number. She recognised most digits of the phone number. It was from one of the many financial institutions that seemed very keen that she should take a personal loan. She blocked the number irately.
There were many messages from her friends. She would read them later. It was more important that she leave this house at once.
The skin on her back prickled.
Nandini winced. If she acknowledged what her senses were telling her, she would have to give in to the spineless urge to run away. She didn't want to do that. But she didn't want to turn either. Feeling cold and sick and wishing she could disappear, she placed the phone in her bag, and kept the bag on the table...and waited...
"This must be the only town where people sneak into houses to keep more stuff instead of taking anything away," an amused voice said.
Nandini shut her eyes fleetingly at the sound of the strikingly familiar voice. She had craved to hear it for four and a half years...
Swayed by a sudden desperation, she swivelled to face him.
Her gaze collided violently with brilliant black eyes regarding her with an unapologetic, startling directness.
Prithvi was standing at a short distance from her, hands in the pockets of his jeans.
The room shrank to a quarter of its size. Her stomach flipped over forcefully and blood rushed to her face. She felt like a tiny, defenceless insect all of a sudden.
It was a stark overreaction. She was in his house. She had known he was asleep right upstairs. She had prepared herself for this moment from the instant she had entered the house, and she had expected to see him before she had turned. Therefore, there was no reason for her to feel stunned.
Yet, the sight of him - and the intensity of her reaction to him - hit her like a bolt from the blue.
The thick tension in the room was the result of her silence, Nandini thought in maddening frustration. But all her strength and poise had deserted her at this crucial hour...
"Your shock seems a little excessive, considering you had seen me arrive earlier this morning and this is supposed to be my house," Prithvi commented cautiously.
She had not registered the tone of his tone when he had first spoken. But this time...the nonchalance in his voice and the calmness on his face unnerved her more than any aggressive reaction could have...
Scarcely conscious of what she was saying, Nandini disjointedly mumbled, "I was about to leave."
"Of course, you were," Prithvi nodded sagely. Then the newspaper on the table caught his eye. Surprised, he said, "You brought me a newspaper too in addition to all the stuff in the kitchen? This is very kind of you. Thanks."
She heard him perfectly well...but couldn't understand a word.
Unconsciously trying to bring the conversation to a level that she could understand, Nandini uneasily said, "I'd knocked before entering the house."
"I'm sure you did," Prithvi said pacifyingly. "But I was sleeping like the dead." Then he thoughtfully added, "I think I need coffee. Would you like some?"
Nandini blinked. "What?"
"Coffee. A drink that helps people stay awake for whatever it is that they want to stay awake for," he explained helpfully. "You brought a jar of the powder for me. I plan to use it. Would you like to have a cup?"
Muddled beyond measure, she confusedly said, "I...no. I don't -"
"No? But you look like you need it," Prithvi said considerately. "Won't you sit down? I'll be back with the coffee in a few minutes."
Dumbstruck, Nandini watched him turn and stride to the kitchen.
Everything about their conversation was unreal, as if she was interacting with an impersonator.
But it was Prithvi...and yet, it wasn't him.
Lost in a mental maze, Nandini remained immobilised on the spot for a while, then she followed his steps guardedly. But she paused at the kitchen's doorway, feeling reluctant to go any further.
Prithvi was moving about in the sunlit space with the ease of someone who was accustomed to working in the kitchen. But she couldn't focus on what he was doing, since her eyes refused to budge from him even as her heart thumped frantically.
Nandini surreptitiously pinched her left arm. The pain assured her that she wasn't dreaming. And while continuing to stare at him disbelievingly, she conceded torpidly that she had fooled herself.
It was not shock that had made him seem much taller and bestowed him with a much more formidable build than the man in her memories. It was not her imagination that had removed any final signs of boyishness and increased the hard maturity and toughness on his face, making him look even more physically intimidating than before. Her mind had not embellished his features or exaggerated the electrifying force of his presence. And her memories had conveniently diminished the intensity of the disturbance he could cause in her.
If anything, he was more devastating in each of those aspects...
His voice made her start.
Prithvi glanced at her while working. "I hope you realise I would have had to call the ghostbuster for an exorcism if I'd woken up and found half the contents of a shop in the house without any explanation," he said ironically. "And seen the dead bodies of the last two specks of dust in the kitchen."
Embarrassed colour bloomed on Nandini's cheeks again. "I really am sorry for coming into the house without permission," she said nervously.
"You don't have to be sorry," he assured. "And anyway, I should be the one apologising...for earlier today. I hadn't really slept for two or three days, so I wasn't in the best of moods," he shrugged.
The politeness and the appreciation had scrambled her brain. The apology disoriented her further. She was capable of thinking about what he had said and responding appropriately...but for that he had to stop looking at her.
"How often have you been cleaning the house?" he asked casually.
Nandini glanced away before replying. "Twice or thrice a week," she mumbled. "We have hired a person to sweep and swab both the houses. But I do the dusting for both."
"I see...and what were you doing with this?" Prithvi enquired, gesturing to the packet of flattened rice.
"Oh...I'd thought of making breakfast before leaving," she said awkwardly,
"That has got to be the nicest way of telling someone that they shouldn't visit your house for food," he reflected admiringly while pouring fragrant, piping hot coffee into two cups.
Aghast, Nandini walked ahead while hastily saying, "That's not why I -
"Calm down, I was kidding," he said amusedly, adding milk and sugar to the black liquid in one cup. "I know you were just trying to help. And I'm grateful."
"You really mean that?" she asked warily, still unable to believe that she was not in a dream. "You're not upset?"
"I'm relieved actually," he responded solemnly. "If I hadn't found out that you're the main reason this place seems allergic to dust, I would have assumed Mochi was trying to make money on the side by loaning the house to hospitals for surgeries."
Nandini almost laughed, but somehow managed to restrain her amusement in a smile that lit up her exquisitely beautiful face.
Prithvi glanced at the cups and pushed one towards her. "You should check if the sugar and milk are enough," he muttered, picking up his black coffee and leaving the kitchen.
She felt a little disconcerted by the sudden coolness in his demeanour. Then she looked at the coffee and was filled with a boundless wonder.
She picked up the mug reverentially, and gazed at it. If she had seen him empty a deadly poison into the cup, she would still have happily consumed the coffee just the way it was.
Smiling through tears, Nandini took a sip of the hot liquid.
It was the most delicious drink she had ever tasted.
***********************