Prithvi... [Vol 2]

Chapter 36

Sumer Singh looked at the crumpled article again, and felt renewed fury as his gaze took in random lines from the piece.

Old king awaits arrival of grandson to announce succession….has been waiting for more than a decade for estranged grandson to return home… News could seriously upset relatives who have been impatiently in the sidelines for years in hopes of inheriting the fabulous fortune….king expects severe backlash from family but decision will remain unchanged….will anoint the grandson as crown prince in the grandest ceremony witnessed in this land if he agrees to return…. but refused to divulge the name or any details about the fortunate boy for whom one of the richest royal families in the country awaits impatiently…..

Another newspaper came flying and landed at his feet and joined the three others already lying on the floor. Sumer Singh looked at the young boy sitting at the other end of the couch, impatiently rifling through a disarranged stack on the ground in front of him.

"I only heard of it half an hour ago, my lord," Sumer Singh said guiltily, even though Prithvi had not asked for any explanation. "My friend had called up. I've been trying to call up everyone possible to find out what is going on. The news hasn't come in all the newspapers, and even then apparently it was squashed in the bottom corner of the page before the sports section. So not many people have seen it."

"It is good to know that the newspapers have some little sense left about the relevance of the article and knew where to dump it," Prithvi retorted, throwing aside a paper in frustration. "They must have gotten quite a sum just to carry it at all."

"The few who saw it tried calling me up yesterday also but couldn't get through because the network had gotten jammed with all the chaos. But how did you come across the news piece?"

"It was in one the newspapers that had been used to wrap that ugly showpiece. I knew it. This trash hasn't come in the earlier editions. It must have come in yesterday's paper, which is the one edition I missed," Prithvi said irritably, tossing aside another newspaper.

"It came just after you had left for college yesterday, but Sankat and I both read the paper and we didn't see this article," Sumer Singh said, perplexed.

"Who read the paper first?" Prithvi asked with sudden sharpness.

 "Sankat,"

Without saying another word, Prithvi took the paper from Sumer Singh's hands and rose swiftly from the couch. Walking out of the room, he ascended the staircase and strode to Sankatmochan's room. He pushed the already half-open doors and stopped short. Sankatmochan was sitting on the floor, tapping the side of his face with a pen, looking dreamily into space with a notebook open in front of him.

He looked up abstractedly at Prithvi and beamed. "Is it time for lunch?"

"No, but I do have a nice rewarding questioning time lined up for you," Prithvi said tersely, and tossed the torn and crumpled piece of paper he had retrieved from Vrindavan towards him. Sankatmochan caught it and smoothed the page confusedly, and then guilty comprehension dawned on his face.

"Does your mouth open only to stuff food inside?" Prithvi asked roughly, as Sumer Singh also entered the room. "Why didn't you speak a word of this yesterday?