Prithvi... [Vol 2]

Chapter 32

Digvijay took out his kerchief and tried to mop his face discreetly without drawing the attention of his co-passenger. Ever since they had entered the car, Prithvi hadn't said a word. But then he would have been surprised if the prince had behaved otherwise. Maintaining a distance from those of common blood was integral to their ancient culture and tradition. 
   
That wasn't what was bothering him. What had triggered off a faint alarm in his head was the path Prithvi was cruising on. They had been on the highway until a few minutes ago, but then the prince had suddenly taken a sharp turn and entered a rough track off the main road. 
   
The car had already been racing along dangerously on the highway. But now they seemed to be zooming at breakneck pace on an uneven road that seemed to be going uphill.  
   
"This speed isn't making you uncomfortable, I hope," Prithvi asked concernedly, breaking the silence.  
   
"Oh no, your highness," Digvijay lied, "Besides, love for speed, be it in horses or cars, is an inherent hallmark of royalty." 
   
"That's excellent," Prithvi grinned, "I'm glad you share my excitement in knowing that the next moment could be your last." 
   
The white-faced man responded with a sickly smile.  
   
"You know what…..I still think we are going too slowly, lets accelerate a little more," Prithvi said enthusiastically. 
   
Digvijay turned paler.  
   
"Your highness, I think this speed is just righ -" he broke off in fright as the indicator crossed 120. 
   
They were travelling on an even narrower, winding road now, and the surroundings seemed to become wilder with every passing minute. Digvijay squeezed shut his eyes to overcome the dizziness and accompanying nausea. But after a few more minutes of misery, they reached a level road again, which was lined thickly with very old trees with enormous gnarled trunks. Tremendously relieved, he began to breathe easy again.  
   
"If I return to the palace, how loyal will you be to me?" Prithvi asked offhandedly. 
   
"I will be your most loyal servant, your highness. Every breath of air I inhale will have your approval, and I shall give up my own life before letting death come near you. I shall live and die only on your command," Digvijay answered smugly.  
   
"That was a touching speech, but let's have a small test of your loyalty first," Prithvi said softly, "That's how royalty works, isn't it?" 
   
And without warning, Prithvi abruptly swerved the steering wheel.  
   
Digvijay yelled and raised his hands to shield his face as the car raced and slammed hard against the trunk of a tree with deafening noise.

The windscreen shattered and small shards of glass flew up and thickened the air for a moment before falling and littering the road like tiny stars.  
   
Then before he could recover from the jolt, the car went into reverse with a screech and its rear end smashed into another gargantuan tree on the other side of the road.  
   
"Stop it! Let me out!" Digvijay shrieked, with hands clamped over eyes that were shut tight in terror and rivulets of sweat running down his face. He tried to open the door and jump out but a strong hand caught hold of his scruff in an iron grip, rendering him immobile.
   
Letting go of the steering wheel, Prithvi unlocked the door by his side with his free hand, and pushed it wide open. He drove a little forward and then reversed again with force, so that the door crashed against the tree trunk. It was sheared off from the rest of the car, and hung limply by the hinges. 
   
"Not bad," he murmured. "But I think I can do better."
   
Digvijay thrashed in his seat, trying to unsuccessfully detach the suffocating hold around his neck, and again and again, the automobile shuddered as its brutal destruction continued……
   
After what seemed like eternity, the car stopped moving. Sitting tight in his seat, Digvijay didn't dare open his eyes immediately for fear that the nightmare would restart. Many minutes went past before he realized that he was no longer imprisoned by the collar. Then quaking and gasping for air, he fearfully opened his eyes. Without pausing to even look at the driver's seat, he blindly started to open the door, then realised that the car no longer had one. Scrambling out of the wrecked automobile, he began running for his life and then halted mid-stride, stricken with panic.    
   
The young prince was standing in the middle of the road, watching him with disdainful amusement. 
   
"Your beautiful speech about loyalty lies in dregs. I am very disappointed," Prithvi mocked. 
   
Standing on shaky legs, Digvijay tried to defend himself, but his throat and mouth had dried up completely. He then attempted to stammer an apology, but the words failed on his lips at the swift blaze of rage in the boy's eyes. 
 
"Call your men who are waiting at the gates of my house and ask them to leave the area immediately," Prithvi said harshly. 

Digvijay nodded vigorously. 

"I know you won't raise a hand to defend yourself, and that's the only reason you'll be able to return to the palace in the same condition that you left it," Prithvi said and then glanced at the car that had been crumpled and crushed completely from all ends. "But I want this to be transported to the palace and exhibited on the front lawns." 

"Yes, your highness," Digvijay said hoarsely and joined his damp palms and bent almost half with gratefulness at being spared his life and limbs.  

"I have a message for that old maniac, and you will repeat it in his presence word for word. Tell him I've controlled my anger at the foul displays of his phony affection so far. But if yet another gift clutters my doorstep ever again," Prithvi said quietly, "all of his vile secrets will be in the newspapers for the world to read and enjoy at tea time the very next day."

"I will convey the message just as you've put it, your highness," Digvijay said fervently, mentally swearing against it. He was not a fool to go and tell the king something as explosive as this.

"If you don't enlighten him about my stance, as you are planning at this moment, I will be informed. And what follows will not be pleasant for you," Prithvi smiled coldly, and the other man blanched. 

Prithvi looked at the car one last time with grim satisfaction and began to turn away. Then he stopped and looked at the car again with a small scowl. 

As Digvijay watched in trepidation, he walked to the side of the road, picked up a sturdy branch that was lying on the ground, and walked up to the car. He looked at the rear windshield which had developed large cracks, but was still comparatively intact.  

He turned to the terrified man. 

"I just don't like leaving a job incomplete," Prithvi admitted apologetically, and with a grim smile, he raised the branch and swung it powerfully into the centre of the glass, which shattered into a million pieces with a resounding crash. 

 
******************* 
  
Nandini wasn't very sure about how she had reached home from college. After the devastating hour with her friends, she had simply told them she wanted to go home and had softly refused their offers for company. 

When she had finally reached home, assuming that her downcast mood and red eyes were the result of a failed audition, Sarojini had refrained from asking her any prying questions. 

After eating a few mouthfuls at lunch to make her mother happy, Nandini retired to her room, walked mechanically to the table in the room and went through her small collection of books, unconsciously seeking comfort in their familiar company. For an instant, her eyes fell on the diary she had retrieved from the store room just over a couple of days ago. She hadn't gone through it as yet. 

Nandini started to pick it up, then hesitated and kept it aside and chose a much-loved classic novel instead. She took the book and sat down on the bed with it, and spent the next few hours staring blankly at the pages as painful thoughts stormed through her bewildered mind. 

Love…. 

She had seen it in movies and read about it in books, and had always believed it to be just some kind of glorified silliness. When girls her age gushed about the feeling and sighed and moaned about feeling its pangs, she had found the whole fuss about it quite ludicrous, knowing that such things didn't happen in real life. And now, here she was, battling with unwelcome feelings for someone who seemed to have taken over her life so devastatingly over the past few weeks. 

But she couldn't be in love with Prithvi. She just couldn't. Love was too...dangerous a word, and it sounded chillingly irrevocable. 
  
No, she wasn't in love. It was – it was just a crush. 
  
Naturally, that was it. She had a crush on Prithvi. These silly feelings were so common amongst teenagers. Vrinda had had innumerable crushes, and Nishi too had experienced a fair share of them. She was only one among the three who hadn't had a single one so far. Until now….. 

How had she let herself….and what had she been thinking…How could she have these feelings for someone she had known for just over a month? And that too someone who had only just begun trusting her and accepted her presence in his life. 

But sometimes she felt as though he had simply resigned himself to her presence after having done everything possible to keep her out of his world. Then again, he had probably recognised right in the beginning what she had only truly understood after all these weeks - that they had nothing in common to base any kind of relationship on. 

Everything about their natures and their lives was as different as possible. Once the sun had set, she was fearful of going into her own backyard. But she had seen an unarmed Prithvi fearlessly look into the eyes of men who held gun and swords. He was afraid of nothing, she was cautious about everything. He was exceptionally handsome, while she was plain and ordinary.  She had always scored very well in her exams, but he was a downright prodigy. And even though he was only a year older than her, he seemed to have seen and experienced more of life and the world than many people she knew. She was hopelessly naive as compared to him. 

To compound her distress, her mother had spoken in a puzzled tone about the two cars that had come to Ayodhya's gate that afternoon. And men dressed in a curiously elegant fashion….. 

That along with the incident in the drama had heightened the unsettling suspicion in her mind that he either belonged to a royal clan or an extraordinarily rich family. 
  
And what was she, Nandini thought listlessly. The ordinary daughter of a middle-class family that only had an illustrious history and immense respect in society as their real wealth. 
  
Nandini sat up straighter, and rubbed her arms distractedly. She was not going to obsess about these alarming emotions. She had always tried to be practical about most things in life so far, and wasn't going to get carried away now. Nishi and Vrinda usually got over their feelings within weeks or even days. And the same would happen with her too. It was just a sort of infatuation that would disappear on its own, Nandini told herself firmly, and felt slightly better. 
  
She would keep as much away from Prithvi as possible. That would be the most sensible thing to do. Then with the passage of time she would be able to overcome the illogical feelings. Everything would become normal again and she would be able to look at him as just a friend. All she had to do was avoid seeing and talking to him so often…. 

A stray tear escaped from her eyes, but she quickly brushed it away. 
  
Their relationship would never cross the lines of casual friendship, and she was not going to risk her heart knowing that it could only lead to more pain than her inexperienced heart would be able to endure. 

******************** 
  
Nandini picked up the last notebook on the sofa and managed to insert it in the already stuffed schoolbag after making some adjustments. Once she had closed the fasteners, she held the bag while the small girl loaded it onto her back. 
 
Then she turned the girl around and bent down so she was looking directly into the anxious little face.
 
"Don't worry about tomorrow's school test. You'll do very well, I promise,"" Nandini said gently, keeping her voice very low so that the other students who were packing their own bags to leave wouldn't overhear. And she placed a quick kiss on the girl's forehead. 
 
The girl smiled toothily, very happy at the secret affection showed by her beloved teacher. And the smile remained fixed on her face as she and the other students walked out the house, babbling continuously.
 
Nandini smiled and waved till her students were in sight, then she closed the door. She hadn't felt capable of going college today, and concerned at her pale face in the morning, her mother had not asked her for any reason. The only problem had been that of Prakash demanding to miss school as well. But she had convinced her mother to give him permission to visit his friend's place after school, and he had finally left in a good mood. 

As she turned to go inside, her eyes were once again drawn to the other side of the room, where her grandfather was seated on his armchair watching eagerly as Prithvi worked on some part of their television set. Bhoothnath had a box of small tools in his lap, and periodically held out some instrument or the other to Prithvi, who was sitting on the floor. 
 
Nandini had been very tempted to cancel tuitions as well. But she had not been able to do it knowing that their final exams were to be held in March, which wasn't very far. But when she had been in the middle of her class, her grandfather had walked in prodding a resigned-looking Prithvi. And she had found herself wishing that she had called off classes just for today. At least she could have avoided coming downstairs at all. 
 
The moment she had seen him, an impossible blend of delight and anguish had burst within her. Then he had looked at her, and abruptly conscious, she had forced herself to turn her blushing face away and return to the children's studies, feeling  a strange sort of relief that she had tied up her hair tightly and not left it half-open, like she had been doing for many days.

Even with her eyes on the book, she was aware of his eyes on her and sensed the mild confusion in his gaze at her unusual indifference, even as Bhoothnath urged him towards the defunct television set. 
 
For the half an hour that the tuition had continued, Nandini's concentration had been shattered and she barely knew what she was saying or doing. She had been determined not to look at him, but her rebellious eyes were hopelessly drawn to him every few minutes. But after his initial puzzlement, she seemed to have vanished from his scheme of things, and his attention was solely concentrated on his task as he dismantled the set. 
 
Why….why had she been forced to face the reality of her feelings. Why couldn't she have lived in happy oblivion for a few more days, without feeling so awkward every time she looked at him. 
 
But now the students had left and she could escape upstairs again. 

She looked at Prithvi as he studied the components of their old television, tiny beads of perspiration on his fair forehead because of the heat. The electricity had given out an hour ago and the room was feeling quite stifling. She walked back to the door and opened it to let in some fresh air. 
  
Prithvi looked up as she opened the door wide, and their eyes met for an instant before she hastily spun away, turning red again. She would definitely remain in her room until she was sure he had left.
 
"Nandini, have the children left?" Sarojini asked, coming downstairs.
 
Nandini nodded. 
 
"Then go and rest for a while, you are still looking unwell," Sarojini said, running an affectionate hand over Nandini's silky hair.
 
As Nandini smiled weakly and began to move towards the stairway, the phone began ringing shrilly. Sarojini hurried to the instrument and answered it. After a few words of polite conversation, she looked at Bhoothnath.
 
"Father, it is Gangadharji," she said, referring to the wealthy devotee who lived at a distance away but had been visiting the temple regularly for years. "He wants to talk to you about their yearly Ganesh pooja." And she kept the mouthpiece down and went into the kitchen.

Bhoothnath hurriedly kept the box on his lap on the floor, saying, "Nandini, could you sit here and give Prithvi the tools he needs."
 
Standing halfway up the stairs, Nandini felt her heart plummet, and looked at her grandfather in dismay as he walked towards the phone. She sighed and walked down the steps again and moved towards Prithvi with reluctant steps.
 
"I don't need help. If you're not feeling well, go and sleep," he muttered as she reached him, appearing quite engrossed in dissecting some wires. 
 
"I'm not that unwell," Nandini mumbled, and sat down on the floor at a distance from him. When she shifted the tool box and placed it in between them, Prithvi glanced at her with knit brows and questioning eyes. But she picked up a newspaper and studied it earnestly, not feeling up to looking directly at him.
 
"How did the audition go yesterday?" he asked casually.
 
"It was alright. But I haven't decided if I want to take part in the drama or not," she said in a subdued voice. 

"I still don't understand," he reflected. "Why is the main character of this play supposed to be ugly?" 

Nandini looked up from the paper and glared at his innocently pensive expression. The teasing remark had stung a lot more than it should have, as it only re-emphasized the truth in the painful thoughts that had been running through her mind all day. She had been right in thinking that she was not a match for him in any way. 

On the other hand, his favourite person in the world, the mysterious Natasha, was beautiful, intelligent and would undoubtedly be more worldly-wise than her. She was ideal for Prithvi in every way.

"The main lead is not supposed to be ugly. And if you think I'm not suitable for the role, maybe I could convince everyone to call your girlfriend from abroad to play the part," she said crossly, staring at a random article with great interest. 

"Which one of my girlfriends are you talking about?" he enquired. 

"How many do you have?" she asked in horror, shocked into looking at him. 

"I stopped keeping count a year ago," he said seriously. 

"What did all of them fall for? Your pleasant nature?" she asked tartly, getting angrier. 

"My sweet-talking also helped," he grinned.

Nandini started to answer back, but then stopped and began laughing, feeling her anger levels drain away involuntarily. The idea of Prithvi indulging in sweet-talk with anyone was nothing short of hilarious. She muffled her laughter with her hand to avoid interrupting her grandfather's loud phone conversation.

"Finally," Prithvi murmured, resuming his work. 

Astonishment that he had been waiting for her to smile caused Nandini's giggles to subside, and she looked at him with softened eyes alight with tenderness. 
 
"Can you hear me?" 

Nandini blinked in surprise. "Did you say something?"
 
"I asked for the pliers," Prithvi said impatiently.

"Oh, just a minute," she said ruefully, and peered into the box and began shuffling the items frantically to veil her embarrassment.

She finally found the pliers and held it out. He caught hold of it and lifted a wire for inspection, and in a quick flash, she glimpsed a thin red gash on the palm of his left hand.

"What's that on your hand? How did you get hurt?" 
   
"It's just a scratch," he said dismissively. 
   
"It's far worse than a scratch," Nandini said, exasperated at his disinterest. "Did you apply any medicine on it?" 
   
"It will heal by itself," 
   
"My injuries would have healed by themselves too. So why did you bother applying that cream on it?" she enquired heatedly. 
   
But Prithvi just continued with his handiwork on the television and ignored the question. 
   
"I'm going to ask ma for some medicine," she affirmed.  
   
"The last thing I need is your family hovering around me with a hundred bandages," Prithvi said irately. "I'll put something on it after I go home."   

"Good boy," Nandini said encouragingly, and chuckled as he looked at her in disgust. 
   
"How did you get hurt like that?" she asked again, when her laughter had abated. 
   
"Someone tried to force me to accept a gift, even after being warned against it many times before," Prithvi said coolly, even as he yanked at some wires with sharp violence.
   
"But if someone wants to give you a gift, that's such a sweet thing," Nandini said, perplexed. Was he talking about the people who had come to Ayodhya yesterday….and what did that have to do with the wound on his hand….
   
"I don't like being forced to accept something I don't want from someone I don't care about," he said grimly. 

"So you got into a fight with the person who wanted to give you a present?" she asked in dismay. 
   
"No, I just destroyed the gift," Prithvi said evenly. 

Nandini looked at him in silence, feeling her heart sink again after the few minutes of warm lightheartedness. 
   
I don't like being forced to accept something I don't want from someone I don't care about………… 
   
But she wasn't forcing him to accept anything, Nandini told herself desperately. She wouldn't even let him find out about anything. After all, it was a mere crush, even though it did feel painfully real…..

"What are you sulking about?" Prithvi asked, and she realized he had been looking at her and had seen the sudden despair on her face. 
   
 "Nothing," she said softly, looking away. 
   
 "If you're feeling so bad about what I did, I'll send the next gift to you," he said dryly.
   
 "I wasn't thinking about –," 
   
"Sarojini!" Bhoothnath called out, finally keeping down the telephone. He seemed extremely pleased about something.

"What happened, grandpa?" Nandini asked quizzically, as her mother came out of the kitchen.

"I need to leave for Gangadhar's house today evening. They want me to conduct a host of poojas for the whole day tomorrow to end a period of ill-fated happenings in their house. Gangadhar has said all the pooja items I need will be arranged for. I only need to carry my personal belongings. Sarojini, could put together the things I may need for the journey in a small bag. I'll add my clothes later,"

"Alright, father," Sarojini smiled and bustled away to make arrangements. 

"Will he be sending his car this time too?" Nandini asked.

"Yes, he is sending a car that will pick me up today and drop me back home day-after-tomorrow morning," he answered happily, walking towards them again and sitting down on the chair. "Nandini, you can go and rest. I'll sit here while Prithvi works on the TV." 

Without another word, Nandini rose to her feet in relief tinged with sadness and quietly made her way upstairs.

Prithvi watched her mount the steps with a tiny frown creasing his brows. Then once she seemed to be at a safe distance away, he gravely asked her grandfather, "No ghost busting to be done?" 

"The poor innocent man has not thought of that possibility. But I clearly see the hand of malignant spirits in their misfortunes, and I will not rest until I capture the ghouls," her grandfather replied self-importantly. "And I know Gangadhar and his family would only be happy if I conduct an exorcism for them."

"I recommend good quality plastic containers," Prithvi nodded. "That's what they prefer these days."

"They who?"

"The spirits, of course. The modern ones would find it humiliating to be caught in the cheap plastic bottles that you generally use."

Nandini quickly hurried up the steps without hearing Bhoothnath's indignant reaction, trying to hold back the strong fit of disloyal laughter.


********************


Nandini slowly walked along the campus road. There were few minutes left for the first lecture to start. Vrinda and Nishi would already have taken their seats by now. She had missed yesterday's classes, and in addition if she was late for a lecture, her friends would definitely slaughter her. But she simply wasn't in the frame of mind to hasten to class. Then she noticed the small groups of students who were standing along the road and outside the college entrance as well. 
 
This was quite strange. Their institute was quite strict about not letting students in large numbers loiter around idly outside the college gates. And then she caught sight of the cards and roses in the hands of quite a few girls and boys. 
 
Of course…..it was Valentine's Day today, she realised with an odd twinge in her heart.
 
There was an air of confused expectancy around the place. Nandini wistfully observed the varying expressions on the faces of the students. Many students were wearing a rather sheepish appearance, and fervent glances were frequently coming the way of the studs and divas of their college, who were strutting and preening arrogantly, basking in the attention.

The intellectual ones who solely lived for their books were looking around at the love-struck giggling gangs of girls with disdainful expressions. Then there were ordinary students who were making jokes about those with roses and cards in their hands to conceal their own disappointment at not having anyone to make the day special. And then again, there was the small community of genuinely unconcerned students, who couldn't care less about the significance of the day and were simply looking forward to some fun-filled hours with their friends. 
 
She was nearing the entrance of the college when she saw Rishabh. He was walking away slowly in the opposite direction, with his head lowered and his thin and frail shoulders bowed down. There were several students milling around the compound, or chattering loudly in groups. Many of them were his classmates; but none of them gave him a second glance. Nandini thought of calling out to him, but he was at quite a distance away and seemed to be heading towards the quite corner on the huge college ground, where many tables and chairs had been placed for students.  

Nandini looked at her watch. If she continued on her way, she could be seated in the classroom before the professor arrived. She looked at Rishabh, who was now a small figure sitting all alone at a table in one corner of the tree lined enclosure, his face buried in his arms. 
 
"Rishabh!" 
 
Rishabh lifted his head and smiled feebly, and Nandini immediately felt apprehensive. He was looking inordinately pallid and his eyes were slightly watery.
 
"What's wrong, Rishabh?" she asked anxiously, sitting down next to him.
 
"I'm just not feeling very well," he said indistinctly.
 
"How long have you been feeling sick?"
 
"Since yesterday morning. I couldn't eat anything properly all day,"
 
"You haven't eaten since yesterday!" Nandini exclaimed, aghast. "What were your friends and roommates doing? Couldn't they have brought you something and forced you to eat."
 
"You know they hardly even acknowledge me," Rishabh said quietly.
 
"They could at least have informed Nishi and Vrinda yesterday," Nandini said angrily, but Rishabh did not reply.
 
Increasingly concerned, Nandini kept the back of her hand against his forehead. "You have very high fever," she said worriedly, removing the hand. "I'll go and ask the college dispensary for some medicines, and then we'll go to the town hospital."

Rishabh didn't lodge his customary protests and only nodded, frightening her even more. As she stood up and began hurrying towards the college, he tiredly put his head down on the table again.
  
**************************