3: LOST PRINCESS

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For the first time after their arrival, it was a power cut in the city. Power cuts in peak summer were often in his village Bijaipur but he never thought it would be casual for Delhiites but it was.

Stupid electricity!!

Sangam Vihar was a posh area with friendly neighbours. He and his mother didn't find it difficult to adjust to the locals. Even three-four family of their village were settled there just a few localities ahead. His father chose this area to settle in because he found a fantastic flat apartment at a cheap cost because it was the time of demonetisation and suddenly everything in the country became cheap and affordable to middle-class people like his family.

He was admitted to a big English medium school much to their afford, unlike the private Hindi medium he was studying in Bijaipur. He also attained a swimming school a week before.

Five months were already passed they left Chittorgarh. He missed his village. His friends. His school tiffin break. His football matches. And mostly her.

Here, everything was fancy. Heavier than his innocence. His classmates knew more about Disney characters than the characters of Mahabharat and Ramayan. He too loved to see cartoons but then he knew how contrasting Bhima and Bheem were. The addition of Chhota before Bheem couldn't symbolize the childhood of Mahabali Bhima. Though Bal Hanuman was much better. It was much similar to the story narrated by his mother with more fun. He was proud of himself for knowing Hanuman Ji more than the storyline in that movie. He was a great friend of Lord Rama or a Devotee, devotee itself a great word. But he was not a little like Hanuman Ji. He couldn't even make an apology to his new friend. Parvat with Sanjeevani was in the distance, he couldn't even send her the football.

Parth rolled the hand fan to evaporate the sweat droplets on his forehead, nose and nooks of the neck. Gratefully afternoon was already descended inviting the evening. The heat was much sufferable now.

His mother lightened the candles in every room. Then she came to sit behind him on the bed, resting his head on her lap and taking off the hand fan from his spraining little hand which was rotating the object for the last fifteen minutes.

He knew it was his story time. He cheerfully curled his centimetres long arms around his mother's waist.

"So which story you will listen today? Fairytale? Prince and Princess? Monsters? Ghost–"

"No ghost, please..." He tightly shut his eyes snuggling to her mother. "It is already no light. They would be fascinated."

His mother chuckled. "Okay. Prince princess story then."

He nodded at the suggestion and her mother started with her adorable dramatic voice.
"Once upon a time, a king was living in his kingdom on the top of a hill. They were monitoring a happy kingdom but the only grief of the king was that the Queen was abandoned of any child and they didn't have a single heir for their territory.

After years of praying the Queen gave birth to a very beautiful child. When he grew up he became so charming and powerful. People used to admire his appearance as if he was a Gandharb. Prince also had a sky-touching pride in his build. Once he decided to get married but he didn't find a single woman to match his grace. So he gave up on the idea.

Once he was out of the kingdom for hunting purposes.

Downhill there was a vast range of forest. There was a folk tale that both fairies and monsters lived in that dark side of the forest.

Chasing a deer he unconsciously entered the deep of the forest and lost his way.

In the process of trying to regain lost communication with his shoulders, he came to a halt near a waterfall. While sipping water from it he saw the reflection of a tiger behind him. Carefully he pulled out the dagger from his waist, turned and attacked the tiger with a roar.

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