13. The Fest of Vrindahina

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"Pruthvi, wake up! It's the perfect day for the wedding!"

Leena's voice trilled as she pushed the door and barged inside the shared chamber provided for them. She sat on the bunk bed Pruthvi was sleeping in, and shook his hands until he finally rouse from his deep slumber.

"Perfect day to get out of here!" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he pulled himself into sitting position. His heightened senses making him feel nauseated smelling the harsh augmented scent of the drink he had been drinking since past one week.

Not until last night before he had drifted off to sleep, he could have actually believed that one whole damn week had gone by since the disaster Tyrell had caused. Only Pruthvi and Leena knew how they have been passing their days-eating, drinking and sleeping becoming their only daily routine. Apart from this, sometimes they were cooped up with the mundane formalities King Aghasthya had been asking them to fulfill, to make his grand daughter's marriage a remarkable occasion of the century. This was one of the reason's Pruthvi had planned to visit the day before the wedding, to escape the possible list of chores.

Pruthvi grabbed his glasses placed beside his pillow and looked up at Leena. In a red and golden bordered grand ethnic wear, her hair tied in an intricate braids and a few strands of curled up wisps surrounding her face, spot on makeup and matching jewelry, Pruthvi was suddenly proud that she was his girl friend.

"You look lovely," he praised, leaning to give a peck on her cheek.

"And you look like a moron!" she whined, pushing him back, "Come on. Freshen up quick. Wedding is exactly at nine and by nine o one, we are leaving this damn place!"

The way Leena commented, it was understood that she'd never forgive her sister for her derogatory comments she had passed that day. Moreover, Leena never spoke with King Aghasthya in a way a grand daughter was supposed to. Pruthvi was actually elated. On closely watching Leena's behavior, he had come to know that her impression on this clan thing was becoming unfavorable, just like Hayden's, and this in turn gave him a surety that Lithika's words might never have an influence on her.

Setting her veil straight, Leena stood giving him space as he pulled his blanket aside and sank his legs down the bed.

"Did you see Doctor today?" He asked, running his hand over his hair.

"Nope," she replied, hastily, "But I heard King Aghasthya mentioning about him and that he might return sometime today from wherever he is gone to."

Pruthvi nodded blankly at her, and then dropped his gaze to the floor. The day they informed about Shourya, Doctor had surprised them by casually disregarded everything. Instead, he urged them to not to pay attention at this meaningless warnings for now and to concentrate on the job that was more important. But Pruthvi had a distinct notion, that Doctor wasn't being himself since then. The number of times they had seen him in this past week, was easily countable on their fingers of one hand. Once or twice, Pruthvi had tried to make a conversation with him to bring out more information about Tyrell, about his or Jyran's whereabouts, anything that could come in handy. Days were passing by, and yet Pruthvi and Leena had no plan about how and where to begin their search for his friend, and he wanted to utilize this week for it. But Doctor was always in a hurry, leaving them with an unsatisfactory answer.

"Look Pruthvi, I don't have time for this," he had said once, "Tyrell is your responsibility now. And I believe you are capable enough to find answers to your own questions."

Since then, neither Pruthvi nor Leena had ever sought for an opportunity again.

Several minutes later, Pruthvi found himself dressed in an only good looking remaining outfit-formal grey trousers and white cotton shirt- that he had kept aside for the wedding. It was about time and he was in his last minute packing with his leftover unburned items he had momentarily dumped into his bag on that black day.

(Book 4) Hayden Mackay and The Fest of VrindahinaWhere stories live. Discover now