Dhruv thanked the taxi driver and watched him drive away. He then turned and faced the manor at the end of the muddy path. It looked different from what he remembered. Older. But then again, he had barely spent any time there. In fact, he had spent most of his time trying to forget it. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves. A tiny cloud of condensed vapour escaped his mouth as he let out his breath and treaded the muddy path leading to the house.

It was early October and the winter was just about setting in in Ranikhet, a hill station in the state of Uttarakhand in Northern India. Nestled amongst the Kumaon hills, this cantonment town had not yet lost its charm from the days of the British rule. The old buildings and narrow winding roads made for a picturesque setting. Even without the beauty of the white snowfall, the hills looked magnificent and yet Dhruv had spent the entire taxi drive of an hour and a half from Nainital lost in his thoughts. He was distracted by the anxiety of how he was going to tackle the situation when he reached, and as he slowly made his way along the muddy path leading up to the house, he still had not finalised what he was going to say. With every step, he was getting breathless and his anxiety wasn’t helping either as he trudged along, uphill. The mist blurred his vision. He was tired from the long journey. The wheels of his suitcase were screeching as he dragged it on the gravel. The soft breeze ruffled his hair. For a moment he felt that he should turn and return. Feeling nervous, he paused to catch his breath at the gate.

In the distance, he saw a light flickering in a wooden window.

This was a trip he had never wanted to take. He was visiting his mother whom he had not met or spoken to in twenty years. Dhruv had butterflies in his stomach.

“Relax Dhruv, it will be over in a day,” he told himself.

Dhruv looked around. Everything appeared ancient. The mud walled, century old home of his maternal ancestors had stood the test of time, he thought. The sounds of the insects and crickets buzzed in the background. Birds were returning to their nests and the sun was setting in the west. The sky was a beautiful colour of orange, one that Dhruv had rarely witnessed in his mundane city life. For a second, the beauty of this setting mesmerised Dhruv. It gave him momentary relief from the anxiety that had plagued him.

”Why did I agree to this!” He cursed himself.

— <> —

Dhruv, 27, was the lone child of Chander Rai Singh, the youngest son of the erstwhile royal family of Nainital, and Amoli Devi Chand, the only daughter of the royal family of Almora. She was the youngest sibling and only daughter of the five children of Raisaheb Ranjeet Chand Singh and Urmila Devi. Technically, Dhruv was the only surviving male heir and crown prince of both these kingdoms. And yet, this was an aspect of his life that he had meticulously hidden from the rest of the world. This house was one of the few surviving remnants of his lineage that had not been lost by his family over the years.

To the rest of the world, Dhruv was, on the one hand, a smart, charismatic, handsome, confident, intelligent entrepreneur, while on the other hand, he had traits of being arrogant, emotional and short tempered. Ambitious to make his business the best in class, he wouldn’t mind pulling strings using the contacts he had carefully collected over the years, and was not too bothered about ethics. For anybody who knew his lineage, these were all traits he had inherited from both his father’s as well as his mother’s side. But Dhruv had ensured that he had cut ties with anybody that knew this about him. To add to all of this, it was these traits in his parents that had led to him growing up in a broken family and although he strongly advocated that it did not affect him, it had taken a toll on the charisma of the crown prince. He was susceptible to bouts of depression, mood swings, and would easily get enraged, so much so that he would cut people out from his close circle without giving them a second thought.

— <> —

One the early victims of this was his mother. Dhruv marvelled at how fate had brought him to her doorstep that day. He cursed his luck as he opened the creaking rusted gate. A frail old man ran towards him from the outhouse. He was clad in a dhoti and shawl. Dhruv recognised him as the house help Govind Kaka. Every aspect of this place that he had tried to erase from his memory came flooding back to him the instant he saw Govind. The man had not aged a day. He was exactly this weak and frail the last time they had met, almost twenty years back. And with that, everything became familiar. His mind was flooded with the memories of his childhood in this house. Every vacation he visited his Nani (grandmother) and played in these lawns with the neighbour’s children. That was decades ago. The familiar scent of the oak and pine trees brought back childhood memories to him.

Govind Kaka’s eyes were moist, and with trembling hands he tapped Dhruv’s cheek. “Dhruv Baba?…. Ranisa has been waiting for you since morning. Come, come.”
Govind Kaka ushered him into the house. “Ranisa, see who has come…” he called out to Amoli.

Amoli looked excitedly down from the library as she walked towards Dhruv.

“My child has grown so tall and handsome, he is a spitting image of my father in his younger days,” she thought.

Amoli could not take her eyes off her son. She smiled warmly at him as she climbed down the steps, trying to decide what she would say to him. Dhruv raised his hand in acknowledgement. He noticed that she too was very nervous. There were no hugs, just a namaste. Amoli wanted to tell him how much she missed him for all these years, but not knowing how he will react, she awkwardly directed him towards the living room.

“Hello beta (son), how was your journey?” She managed to ask him.

“I am sorry.…it was a freak accident…Papa should not have gone ….” Dhruv narrated the incident.

— <> —

That year, the traditional annual get-together of the royal families in North India was hosted by the royal family of Udaipur. After dinner, a friendly boat race was organised between the families in the lake around the palace. The celebrations turned into a nightmare when Dhruv’s father, in a fully intoxicated state, lost his balance and fell from the boat into the lake and drowned before anyone could save him.

After the funeral and related ceremonies were completed, on the insistence of his favourite aunt Rekha Masi, Dhruv agreed to visit his mother Amoli to give her the sad news in person and console her.

— <> —

As Dhruv narrated this story, he carefully watched what his mother’s reaction would be. She sat there in stunned silence staring away into the distance. Due to the lack of response from his mother, Dhruv found himself trying to fill the awkward silence with mundane details of that night. Eventually, he too stopped talking. He just sat there watching his mother slowly trembling in her seat. It looked like she was trying hard to fight her tears, but Dhruv was unsure of what exactly to do to help her.

Amoli was 57 years old now. She had separated from Dhruv’s father when he was 7 years old. Ever since then, she had lived in her grandmother’s house. Now she lived there all alone. Dhruv spent most of his life in boarding school and college hostels. The separation of his parents had ensured that Dhruv became a reserved and independent person.

Amoli stood up. “Thank you so much beta for coming to me, I am really sorry for what you have gone through. Please tell Govind Kaka to show you to your room. You must be tired.”

With that she retreated to her studio. Dhruv sat there in the big hall, alone, evaluating whether his mother’s response was appropriate. ‘Was that it?’ He wondered. He could feel his anger rising inside.

Unsatisfied, a moment later he stood up and walked towards her studio. He stood at the door and watched his mother painting on a canvas. She was surrounded by her latest work and seemed unfazed to Dhruv by the news that she had received. Today, Amoli was a celebrated painter and had pursued her talent in ‘Pahari’ paintings, a skill she had learnt from her grandmother. Exhibitions of her work were held in many cities in India and abroad. Dhruv felt angry. “Even in such times, her work took priority? Maybe I shouldn’t have come here," he felt.

— <> —

Govind Kaka laid out the table for dinner. After freshening up, Dhruv was all set to have his dinner alone when Govind Kaka announced Ranisa would also be joining him. Dhruv instantly felt his body tense up. Dhruv watched his mother as she quietly came and sat down at the table. He noticed that her eyes were swollen and red as if she had just cried. Dhruv instantly felt sad for her. May be he had judged her response too quickly. After all he too wouldn’t have cried in front of her if he was in her place. Except for a few grey strands of hair and light wrinkles on her face, she looked as elegant and beautiful as was his childhood memory of her. Dhruv never exactly knew what had happened between his parents. All he knew was that their separation had resulted in his life coming crumbling down.

After dinner, Amoli brought hot coffee for Dhruv.

“Tell me, how have you been?” She asked him.

The reaction on Dhruv’s face showed that she had touched a raw nerve. There was an awkward silence and Dhruv gave her a steely look.

“Really? Are we doing small talk?” Dhruv rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said apologetically.

“You never cared about what I went through, Your bloated ego never allowed you to apologise or try to patch up. Did you even try to find out if I was alive or dead?” Dhruv said.

“I knew you were alive!” Amoli, said dismissively.

“No thanks to you,” Dhruv retorted.

Amoli stood up.

“Forget it, you will never understand,” she said softly, almost to herself, her gaze transfixed on the floor as her eyes welled up.

“Really…? Maybe I should never have come here,” Dhruv got up to leave, adding “Good night, I am going for a walk. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

Dhruv closed the door behind him without waiting for a reply from Amoli.

— <> —

Once outside, he took a deep breath. He was regretting coming here and felt like he should run away. He fidgeted anxiously to get a cigarette from his pocket. This was not helping his effort to quit.

In the distance he saw a dim light in Govind Kaka’s outhouse. He walked in the direction.

The old man was seated on a charpai (coir bed) in the yard with a chillum (tobacco pipe) in his hand.

“Arey… Baba…” he hurriedly dropped the chillum. “It’s cold….” he said trying to explain to Dhruv the reason for his smoking. Then he saw a cigarette in Dhruv’s hand and they both laughed as Govind Kaka picked up the dropped chillum.

“Don''t tell your mother, she will not spare me,” said Govind Kaka.

“Don’t worry Kaka. Anyways, I don’t have anything to talk with her. I am here only because of Rekha Masi, Let’s talk about the good old times, you will have a lot of stories to tell me!”

— <> —

It was the summer of 1975.

The central hall of DBS college in Nainital was brimming with activity. The annual inter-collegiate music and cultural arts competition ‘Sanskriti’ was about to commence. Students from most colleges in north India were participating in the event. Amoli and her friend Reshma were amongst the organisers of the event. This was the first time this annual event was being hosted by their college.

Amoli was 19 at the time. Despite opposition from the rest of her family, Amoli insisted on pursuing her college education. She was her father’s pride and joy, and he could not say no to her. Maharaja Ranjeet Singh reluctantly became a pioneer in his family and was momentarily hailed as a feminist who challenged the norms for women’s right to education. As a student of DBS college, she was studying to graduate in Literature.

She was appointed as the Master of Ceremonies for ‘Sanskriti’. She was dressed in her favourite light blue silk dress, adorned with sapphire earrings and a silver necklace.

“You are looking beautiful,” Reshma nudged her and they both smiled.

“Oh this is so boring. All I have to do is to call out the names. I wish I could participate,” Amoli was unhappy with compering.

As she made last minute changes to her script in the corridor, her pen ran out of ink. She called out to ask Reshma if she had a pen on her.

“If I was at home, I would just call Bahadur,” said Amoli.

“Yes, I know that. But you are a student and not a princess here!” Reshma winked at her.

“Will this do, your highness?” Amoli heard a deep voice.

Startled, she looked up. Before she could thank him, the charismatic stranger had handed her the pen and was lost into the crowd.

— <> —

“Good evening friends, and a warm welcome! We at DBS are honoured to be hosting ‘Sanskriti’ this year. I am happy to inform that this year sees participation from 32 colleges, the highest since the event began ten years ago! It is going to be an eventing to remember for all of us!”

Although Amoli was just reading mechanically from her script at the time, she had no idea that it was indeed going to be an evening that she would never forget.

Amoli started calling out names of the participants. After a while it became mundane and Amoli was disinterested. Amoli found herself thinking that she could have done better than most people participating.

Till she said, “Next, I invite Nayan Kumar Vyas (Naksh) from Government Medical College…” before Amoli completed her sentence, she stood gaping at the boy. He was the stranger who had given her the pen.

— <> —

Nayan, 20, was a student of Government Medical College, Nainital. He hailed from a middle class family in Lucknow. His father worked in the local municipality as an administrator. Nayan had an older sister who was married. Nayan was a brilliant student, and was awarded a scholarship for his studies.

Nayan recited his poem. It read:

Wake up.

Like a habit, the clock strikes 3.

Every night.

Rudely awakening me to the fact

That you’re missing from my life.

That your warmth is conspicuously absent

From the right side of my bed.

That you’re taking this whole soulmate thing

Too lightly for my liking.

Like a habit, the clock strikes 4.

Every night.

The hour lost in my mind consoling my heart.

That your naïveté is temporary.

That sleep is my only solace for now.

For in dreams you are mine. Oblivious.

Unaware of the fact that you are just

A vision of my longing.

For in my dreams, you’re right there, instead

Of that pillow that’s crushed in my embrace.

I’ve given you ample time, my love

To steal my sleep,

And not account for the hours lost

As I toss and turn, waiting for my destiny to unfold.

Like a habit the clock ticks on,

Every night.

As I fight to account for the winks of sleep I’ve lost.

Waiting.

One of these days,

You’re going to have to break my habits,

And become one instead.

Because honestly,

You’ve been asleep for far too long.

While the universe has been keeping me up at night.

Wake up.

Nayan received a standing ovation from the audience for his performance.

Just like the audience, Amoli was mesmerised by his performance. Someone prompted her from backstage, “Amoli! Next participant’s name….”

Amoli recovered and said, “Oh sorry!” and announced the next name.

Towards the end of the event, the judges handed over an envelop to Amoli. After announcing a couple of runner up prizes she paused dramatically before announcing the winner, “And the winner is Nayan Kumar Vyas from Government Medical College, Nainital!”

— <> —

After the ceremony, bowled over by his performance, Amoli tried to get close to the smart, handsome student from Government Medical College.

“Come, let’s congratulate him,” Amoli held Reshma’s hand and they found themselves in the crowd surrounding Nayan.

“Congratulations, your performance was awesome,” Amoli gathered the courage to tell him.

Their eyes met for a moment and it felt as if time had stopped. He smiled and thanked her with folded hands, “Thank you Amoli..ji, I am honoured….” Before he could finish his sentence, a crowd of students surrounded him, craving for his attention.

— <> —

It was about a week since the college event. Amoli could not get her mind off thoughts of Nayan. She had an idea, and she mentioned it to Reshma.

— <> —

Amoli and Reshma tried hard to keep themselves calm as they entered the gate of Government Medical College. They walked through the corridors.

“This is crazy,” Reshma said, “You know nothing about him, you don’t even know if he has feelings for you…”

“To what do we owe this pleasure, your highness?” A voice from behind said, almost startling them.

Amoli and Reshma were tongue tied as they saw Nayan standing in front of them. Reshma blurted out, “She wanted to meet you.”

“The tea and pakoras here can be relished at any time of the day!” Nayan said, as he led the two girls towards the college canteen. They chatted for some time, with Nayan doing most of the talking. “I am so happy you came along. Come, I’ll walk you to your college,” Nayan offered, but the girls politely declined.

— <> —

Over the spring, the secret love affair of Nayan and Amoli blossomed. They met frequently in Amoli’s college and outside, at movie theatres and small tea shops. They were always accompanied by Reshma. Since they could not spend a lot of time together, they exchanged love letters to express their feelings. Whenever Nayan brought up the topic of marriage, Amoli would say “My folks will never accept, we will have to elope. Do you have the courage for it?” Nayan was confident that once he completed his medical studies, he could ask her parents for her hand.

Both Amoli and Nayan craved to meet each other. It was the last day of the semester. Nayan was at the college gate, waiting for Amoli to finish her last exam. He had three tickets for the latest movie with him. Nayan looked impatient, as it was much past the time they were to meet. All the students had already left the college. He noticed a car parked outside the Principal’s office. An angry man walked out of the office, holding a girl’s arm. He dragged her towards the car. The girl was crying. As the car passed the gate, Nayan realised it was Amoli in the car. Reshma came running towards Nayan, breathless.

She said “Her father found out about the two of you. He has taken her out of the college!”

Nayan could not believe his ears.

— <> —

A week later, Reshma managed to arrange a secret meeting between Nayan and Amoli in a lonely place on the outskirts of town. Amoli had come prepared to elope with Nayan. She carried jewels and cash.

“This is too risky. We can’t do this. Your father is very influential. Before we know it, both of us would be dead. My family has already received death threats from his goons,” he pointed out.

She tried hard to convince him that they could go to a place where no one knew them.

“Amoli, please wait for sometime,” Nayan pleaded.

Amoli knew that would never happen.

“My father has already fixed the date for my marriage. I need you to stand up for me now,” Amoli had tears in her eyes.

“I’m really sorry, but this is too big a risk for me and my family. I cannot have them pay for my mistake,” he replied.

The word ‘mistake’ hit her like a shot! Amoli left without saying another word.

— <> —

The wedding preparations were going on in full swing. Reshma helped Amoli dress up. Her eyes were red and swollen because of the crying.

“I don’t want to marry anyone, I know I will never be happy with anyone else,” Amoli said.

“I am sorry dear, It’s best you forget him like a broken dream and look forward to your new life,” Reshma hugged her and they both cried.

Amoli’s mother Urmila knew that her daughter would not be happy in the family her husband had chosen for her, but she was helpless.

“But you know the character of the groom…..” she tried to reason with her husband.

“Royals only marry royals, put that in your daughter’s head,” her husband had firmly told her.

— <> —

Amoli tried hard to be a good wife and daughter-in-law at the house of Ranjeet Singh, a business family with a royal ancestor. Their family was just as backward, if not more, and did not believe that Amoli deserved her own identity. Ranjeet Singh had four children, Amoli’s husband Chander was the black sheep of the family. He had many vices including drinking and womanising. Amoli’s life soon became a nightmare. She dreaded when she was alone with him. He would come home drunk and beat and abuse her and tie her mouth with a cloth so that she could not shout for help.

Things worsened when, through one of his friends, Chander found out about Amoli’s love affair with Nayan. She was in an advance stage of pregnancy. He cast aspersions on her character and continued the torture.

Reshma’s visits, once in a while, were Amoli’s only solace.

Amoli ensured that Dhruv never saw his parents fighting.

Once Chander hit Amoli so hard that she had a deep cut on forehead and had to be admitted in the hospital. With the help of Reshma, Amoli ran away from the hospital to her Nani’s house. Her Nani always doubted there was something wrong in her life, but Amoli did not reveal anything to her. This time she could not hide it any more, and told her everything. Nani agreed for her to hide in her home as long as she wanted.

— <> —

Chander never tried to find out about her whereabouts. He brought his mistress into the house and Dhruv was packed off to the Boarding School. Dhruv came home only during vacations. His relationship with his father was formal, but Chander allowed him to take as much money as he wanted to start his business. Whenever Dhruv enquired about his mother, Chander would say, “She has gone to God, She is happy there!”

— <> —

“Your mother has gone through so much torture, it is unimaginable! Your father was a Rakshas(Tyrant),” said Govind Kaka.

“But Govind Kaka, one thing I don’t understand is why did the man, that doctor, because of whom my mother has had such a tough life, never tried to check on her? He was a coward. Do you know who he was?” Dhruv asked Govind Kaka.

“I don’t know much about him. But in the library, while cleaning, I’ve noticed a photograph with three people, and something written behind it! I have a feeling it is his picture.”

They tiptoed into the Library. Dhruv picked up the photo. It was a photograph of two young girls and a young man. Dhruv clicked a photo of the black and white photograph on his cell phone and also of the writing behind. The years had faded the writing, but Dhruv could see it was ‘the poem’ signed Nayan Kumar Vyas (Naksh). Dhruv kept the photograph back and both of them tiptoed quietly out the the room. 

Close to dawn Dhruv fell into deep sleep. He dreamt of demons surrounding him and his mother and he was trying hard to guard her. There was a knock at the door. Amoli entered with a cup of honey and lime concoction. Dhruv smiled at her with love. She gently hugged him and told him to come down for breakfast.

The phone rang. It was his aunt Rekha.

“How is she? Did you read the letters I gave you?”

Dhruv felt guilty. “I’ll do that right away after breakfast. Here, you can speak to Ma!” Dhruv handed the phone to Amoli.

Once back in his room, Dhruv read the letters his aunt had handed over to him. They were letters his mother had written to him wishing him on each of his birthdays. His father never told him anything about them. The kind aunt had kept them safely to give it to Dhruv once he completed his boarding school. But somehow it happened only after his father died. Tears trickled down his eyes as he read the letters. He cursed himself for harbouring negative thoughts about his mother.

“Ma, I read your letters,” he told Amoli at dinner. “I am sorry. I think I have been very insensitive to your troubles. Govind Kaka told me what you had to go through.”

Amoli smiled and said, “Its fine, you had no idea and you were too small to understand.”

She patted his cheek.

“I promise, I will make it up Ma!” He gave a fist bump to Amoli and they both smiled.

Though he had planned to be there only for a day, Dhruv postponed his return by a week.

Over the next few days, Amoli and Dhruv spent time together. Amoli cooked special dishes for Dhruv. Dhruv enjoyed those days and thanked aunt Rekha for it.

“I have to be leaving now or I will miss the flight,” said Dhruv.

“I wish you could stay longer, but I understand,” Amoli replied as tears welled up in her eyes.

He fondly hugged her as he walked towards the car.

Amoli followed him.

“Bye Ma, I will keep in touch and come back soon. Till then take care of yourself. I will call you once I reach home.”

The goodbyes were tearful.

Once in the taxi, he opened the browser on his phone and typed, ‘Nayan Kumar’.

After reading for a while, he called Anjali, his assistant. “Book me to Bangalore for Thursday,” he told her.

— <> —

The day-long online Conference ended with the keynote address by the person Dhruv had been keenly waiting to hear. After the event, Dhruv sent a WhatsApp message to Nayan. He complimented him for his paper and sent him his coordinates.

“Sir, I will be interviewing you on your latest research for the next issue of our magazine. My office has been in touch with you. I have already reached Bangalore. I also have my test result which is negative. Can we start tomorrow?”

“Sure! But tomorrow I am not going to work,” said Nayan. “Can we do it at my home?”

— <> —

Dhruv rang the door bell and read the name board aloud, ‘The Kumars’

The door was opened by a young, beautiful, chirpy girl.

“Amaira?” Said Dhruv.

“Yes…..But….?” She asked.

Social media and the internet gave Dhruv an advantage to know everything about Nayan Kumar and his family. He was one of the leading research scientists in the country, currently heading the team working on the vaccine against the pandemic. His family consisted of his daughter Amaira and his dog Fluffy.

Dhruv looked impatiently at his surroundings while Amaira checked with her father about the meeting with the stranger. She checked Dhruv’s test report and ensured his hands and bag were sanitised.

“Papa’s gone out for his walk, should be back soon,” she ushered Dhruv into the living room.

Amaira, 25, the only child of Nayan Kumar Vyas and his late wife Rohini, was a research scholar pursuing her post graduation studies in a nearby college. She was working on her thesis for her doctorate. She was an outgoing, always cheerful and exuberant girl. She was inspired by the characters in Jane Austin’s novels and particularly by Elizabeth from Pride and Prejudice. She firmly believed that somewhere in the universe there is a prince charming made for her, and that at the right time, he will come into her life.

“What is this meeting about?” Amaira questioned Dhruv.

“I run a Media company. We are doing a feature on Dr. Kumar on his work on the vaccine.”

He handed his business card to her. Amaira read the name ‘Dhruv Chander Singh’.

“Would you like to have some tea?” She asked Dhruv.

“Sure!” He replied.

While she was away in the kitchen, Dhruv looked around the room. It was very tastefully done. His attention went towards a wall with photographs. They appeared to be photographs from family outings of the Kumar family. The lady in the photograph looked like an older Amaira.

“Mom,” she said pointing at the photograph, “she left us some years ago!”

Dhruv sensed a sadness in Amaira’s voice.

— <> —

The first day of the interview recording went on for a long time, with a few short breaks.

“See you tomorrow morning,” Dhruv left the house to go to his hotel.

While having his dinner, he saw on the news a nation-wide lockdown being announced by the Prime Minister, on account of the pandemic, starting the next evening. Dhruv was worried how he would continue his mission. He called Nayan.

Nayan suggested that if it was not too inconvenient and considering the current pandemic situation, Dhruv could stay with them in their guest room till the lockdown ended. In their six bedroom home, only two of them lived with a dog and a house help. Dhruv could not have asked for more! It was as if the Universe was helping him in his mission.

It would give him enough time to woo Amaira when the father was away at work. Medical and essential services were required to go to work.

— <> — 

The next day Dhruv moved in to the Kumars’ residence. Amaira made sure he was comfortable and taken care of. The second day of the interview also took a long time.

After dinner, Dhruv went to the terrace for a smoke. He was feeling tired but happy with the events of the day.

“Hi, you’re here? I got some coffee for you!” Dhruv’s chain of thoughts was broken.

He looked towards Amaira. “Oh, you shouldn’t have taken this trouble,” he smiled as she handed over the cup to him.

“The day was long, I am sure you must be having a headache,” she continued, “Papa is not easy to stop when he has to speak about his work. I often tell him, his work is his first child”.

They both had a hearty laugh.

“See you in the morning, good night!” Amaira closed the door behind her.

Dhruv skipped a heart beat. “She is beautiful! And her perfume is intoxicating,” he muttered to himself.

— <> —

“We will resume our interview in the evening,” Nayan waved at Dhruv as he left for work the next morning.

“Hello Ma, how are you? Don’t worry. I am in Bangalore on an official assignment and safe. Take care of yourself. I will come to see you as soon as things open up,” Dhruv was happy to speak like a normal son to his mother.

Dhruv was confident that carrying out his mission to hurt Nayan Kumar would not be difficult. Amaira was fond of fairytales, romantic movies and love stories. She strongly believed she will find her prince charming some day. This made Dhruv’s plan easy to implement. Dhruv on the other hand did not believe in romance and found it very silly.

During the day, both spent long hours together while Nayan was away at work. Amaira found every opportunity to be close to him. Dhruv on the other hand kept reminding himself, “You are only acting that you are in love with her”. There were times when he felt he was crossing the line, and would quickly retreat.

Dhruv was about to go to bed, when there was a knock at his door.

“I went looking for you on the terrace,” Amaira let herself in with two cups of coffee.

They both stood in the balcony. For some time, there was an awkward silence between them. The westerly breeze was ruffling Amaira’s hair.

“How is the interview going on?” Amaira broke the silence.

“Ah, ok…” Dhruv appeared to be lost in some thoughts, “The city looks so beautiful from here,” he said, “Just like you!”

Amaira was taken aback by what he said. She blushed and smiled, not knowing how to react.

Dhruv moved closer and said, “Amaira, I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a while. But I am hesitant…what if..”

Amaira’s heart started to beat fast. “Tell me Dhruv, what is bothering you, is there any way I can help?”

“No forget it, I don’t want to lose your friendship. Let’s talk on this some other time,” he abruptly ended the topic.

Amaira was not able to sleep that night. She wanted to tell Dhruv that she had fallen in love with him and hoped that he too wanted to say the same thing. What if he already had someone in his life, what if he was just being friendly, such thoughts kept gnawing at her. Close to dawn she fell asleep and dreamt of Dhruv. He was trying to save her as she tripped on a hillside but his hand slipped and she was falling into the valley. She woke up breathing heavily.

— <> — 

It was almost a month since the lockdown was imposed. The chemistry between Amaira and Dhruv seemed perfect. They had long discussions on various topics and Dhruv knew that his charm had worked and Amaira was deeply in love with him. Nayan noticed the closeness between the two of them, but did not mention anything. In his heart, he remembered Amoli.

Nayan had grown fond of Dhruv and they had long discussions on varied topics. Dhruv tried hard to find out what had happened in Nayan’s love life in college and how it affected him. But he could not get Nayan to say anything about it. Dhruv was convinced that for Nayan it was just a crush. But it had ruined his mother’s life, and Nayan was not even aware of it.

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Continued .....