Chapter 25
Moving Forward
The laughter of children, prancing and dashing around furniture without care towards their safety, bounced off the walls. A little Abhayendra, perhaps about six years old, wandered off on his own after Siddharth grew weary from chasing after him so much, making headway towards the large window that overlooked the royal passageway. A small feather quill twirled between his fingers. Black ink coated the tip, glistening against the candlelight.
The sun began its descent into the horizon, leaving behind a gradient of pinks and purples over the sky.
He peered outside to the right. Hooves of a dozen horses pulled the clattering royal carriage through the fresh muds of the first spring rain. He watched its passing with awe, pushing his tiny body up and out of the window, and stood just at the edge of the road, waving to the royals inside it as the wheels drenched him slick with rainwater and mud.
“Abhayendra!” His mother called.
“Coming, Maa.”
He said it out loud, in the present time. His voice echoed back in lieu of a reply. The flashback ceased as quickly as it started, leaving him back in the dark, empty house. The window may have remained, but there was no cobblestone path, no torches to illuminate the area, just trees and overgrowth. He laughed at the bittersweet memory, recalling how much he was scolded for coming back inside with soiled, muddy clothes, while showing no remorse for the fact. Seeing the magnificent carriage roll on by was worth the extra trouble.
Time courteously rewinded for him, allowing aimless wanders throughout the old house, soaking in the memories it still gave shelter to.
A pristine painting hung monochrome on the wall, overcompensation for the simplicity of a dusty living quarters. Seated in its shadow, atop an old armchair, was a black cat with striking yellow eyes, licking its paws and digging sharp claws into the fabric. It jumped onto Abhay’s shoulder upon his arrival, expressing the ending of solitude with a warm meow.
This cat was the only living creature in the house, always there when they came to visit. They even named her.
“You look well, Raven.”
She purred and flicked Abhay’s nose with her tail, landing gracefully onto the floor and trotting off into the kitchen.
Abhay let her be and stood before the painting. He dragged his finger into the thick coats of dust, uncovering a small plaque attached to the bottom of the golden frame.
The Rao Family, 1715.
Rao. The true identity. Wiped from the texts after their first death, and destined to be covered by dust till the end of time. He peered up at the faces, one by one. A doting mother, defined by her grace and sensibility. A tireless father, gifted in the arts of war and diplomacy, and blessed to be serving to the king. Behind them, two intelligent and compassionate sons.
An affluent family for the times, close to the king and his family no less. They lived in comfort, but remained just as humble. Happiness was easy to obtain, by no means a luxury.
Siddharth joined Abhay, chuckling to himself and at the memories surrounding the painting.
“Remember how much you complained about posing for this?” He said, slinging his arm around Abhay’s shoulders. “Even that poor painter was fed up.”
“It was a just complaint. Who stands that long for a portrait?”
The grand family portrait, commissioned by the King’s specially appointed painter, was started and completed the same day, the creation process surpassing several hours. But the resulting quality spoke for itself, incredibly photorealistic and, even after all these years, devoid of any cracks or deformities.
“Those who didn’t live to see the magic of a camera.” He chuckled. “Baba scolded you so much after. Truly music to my ears.”
They didn’t come here often. But it was always there, hidden from the rest of the world under an illusionary cloak, allowing only them access. Abhay and Siddharth’s old home. Where they were born and raised.
A little cleanup and the place would look just like it did back then, if one were to ignore the faded colors of the upholstery. For now, it could be mistaken for the setting of a black and white film.
“So.....anything new with Piya?” Abhay looked down, wiping more dust with his thumb. “Did you find out?”
Siddharth wouldn’t let him avoid the question. This he was sure of.
“She might be.” He replied, eyes filled with woe. “If she is, I can always reject her. Keep her permanently in the friend zone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would you reject her?”
“Because I’m not human. The me in this portrait, the one that could actually be with her, doesn’t exist anymore.”
Siddharth pinched the bridge of his nose, arms crossed. Abhay was the poster child of being too difficult.
“There’s a lot that I can’t give her. It’s unfair to her.”
“I disagree. I think Maa would disagree too, if she were here.”
“Of course she would. But what can I do? I inherited her stubbornness.”
“You’re not wrong there. Piya must’ve complained about that already.”
“Many times.” He hid the minute smile. That’s what he was given. A girl just as stubborn as he was. Somehow it made things more difficult than it need to be.
He stared at the beautiful women sitting just in front of him, imagining the portrait in full color. He took after her, most notably the icy grey hue of her eyes.
“You think she will forgive me?”
“That’s a tough one. I’m sure she would’ve loved Piya. And also be upset at you for deflecting your feelings.” The conversation began to steer towards a similar tone to the one they shared in the balcony.
Raven meowed behind them and exited to the gardens. Siddharth stared longingly at the very door.
“Mandu must be waiting for you.” Abhay said.
Siddharth put his finger to his own lips.
“Let me stall for a little longer. I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
Abhay found the ease of crying foreign, even though he used to be the most emotional of the three. They never learned or wished to suppress their emotions as much as he had.
Anyone could see Siddharth was holding back tears. Stopping them this time around became wearisome. They came here on the same day each year, to see their families. Many graves, all empty but one, of their dead loved ones.
“What really happened?” Abhay questioned.
“Guilt is a terrible feeling, little brother. I can’t help but think, if I were stronger back then, would she be in this state? Would he have lived?”
He vowed to protect her and their family, in the binds of love and the oath of marriage, yet he was the first to succumb to death that night. He couldn’t help but feel responsible for Mandu’s condition.
“My brother is not weak. He is the strongest person I’ve ever known.”
“Abhay--“
“Only I have the right to be depressing. Now shush.”
Abhay dragged Siddharth by the wrist to the back gardens, where the large tomb lay. Mandu was already there, seated on the grass with an hand full of pink azaleas, leaning over the smallest grave stone in line. She was waiting for them.
Her parents, their parents, and Siddharth and Mandu’s son, rested in this order.
She traced the marble engravings of his name, humming the short but mellow lullaby that he always fell asleep to. Siddharth sat beside her, silently listening with the rest.
Raven popped out from a rose bush, situating herself under Mandu’s palm, touching a paw over the marble.
“Don’t leave Vaibhav alone, okay Raven?” Whiskers perked up with a loud meow, her tail snapping back and forth. “Good girl.”
They placed the flowers on each grave together, a gift in parting. A special moment for them on their wedding anniversary. Asking for the blessings of their parents and spending time with their son, even though none of them were actually there.
Mandu wiped her tears, having gone through a much needed catharsis tonight. She felt steady, determined, like she could take on the world and win.
She turned to Siddharth, who had been gone a little too long for her liking, and embraced him.
“Abhay, was he trying to hide?”
“I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t.”
She looked up at him, as he avoided her eyes. She lightly slapped his cheek, knowing very well why he hesitated.
“Stupid.”
“Sorry.” He held his ears, hoping it would appease her.
“Sorry is not enough. Promise me...” She held his hands. “...that you won’t think such thoughts again.”
“Will you promise me the same?”
She firmly nodded, glancing at Abhay. All three of them, were guilty of feeling guilty. A strange kind of guilt.
“Abhay? You too. Promise us. No more guilt.”
Abhay carried a lot more of the cursed emotion than the two combined, but he also excelled at hiding it.
“Promise.” He said.
Her smile made a gracious return.
“I don’t want be afraid anymore. I want to fight, for them.”
She stared the resting place of the dead, with a drive to avenge them. She was given a second chance to do so.
“That’s like my queen.”
—————————————————————————————————
She wasn’t wearing yellow today.
Kabir lowered his head in disappointment, creasing a paper napkin until it tore at the folded edge. He felt guilty for wondering, especially when taking the past few days into account, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Piya may have offered him a warm smile when the girls walked into the canteen, but he could tell something was bothering her.
She had a tell. Fidgeting with something in her hands, twisting her hips faintly. She kept looking down too.
“Wow Kabir, you’re early today.” Misha commented, setting her bag on the table.
“Oh, I was just had some...work to do in the library. So I came early.”
“Early? Work? And you? What an unusual combination.”
Piya remained standing. The fidgeting got worse. Whatever she was planning to say, it was hard for it to escape her inner thought.
“Hey Kabir, can I talk you? Outside?” She blurted out, turning red.
Misha and Kabir exchanged a look, both speculating that it was something about the letter.
“Sure.” He stood up and gestured her out first. Piya breathed a sigh of relief. She had ten minutes, before the current lectures were dismissed. The hallway was so quiet that she could hear the sound her own heartbeat, along with the whistle of the winds that turned the halls into narrow wind tunnels. She squeezed the straps of her bag, unable to find a starting point.
Just say it outright, Piya. He’ll understand. He’s not like Jeh at all.
“I....read your letter.”
Kabir broke out in a sweat, despite the frosty weather. Not wearing yellow was the first sign of rejection. Now all she had left was to say it out loud. But she looked scared about doing it.
“I’m sorry. It was very sweet of you, but I...us.....I don’t see it happening.”
Unfortunately for him, he expected that answer. He relaxed and smiled. It was worth a shot, and now they both had closure.
“You don’t have to apologize. I respect your decision.”
She met his eyes in understanding.
You’re a kind person, Kabir. I hope you find someone deserving of you. She’ll be very lucky.
“But we can still be friends, right?”
He flashed his goofy smile.
“Of course. Like I said, I don’t want this to make anything weird between us.” He outstretched his hand. “Friends?”
“Friends.” They both chuckled, meeting hands. The awkwardness in the air cleared. Her heart felt more at ease.
They returned to the canteen, chatting as friends would. Just out of earshot, a wave of fresh gossip took headway at Doon University. But none of it was about Piya, or what happened at the fair.
Misha had stepped out momentarily to cover her scooter, to protect it from any more snowfall, and burst into the canteen in alarm.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me final exams were this week?!”
Every soul in the room stopped chattering and stared at the hotheaded Dobriyal heaving in breaths. No one was spared of shock and trepidation.
“What do you mean? They’re not.” Piya called out, staring at her planner. Others pulled out their phones and checked online schedules, or began to skim their notes and click their pens.
Misha grabbed Piya’s wrist and took her to the hallways, pointing to the opposite side, into the batches of students just ending lecture.
She recognized the tall moving column of black. Abhay. He was walking in the hallways, out of a lecture, a book and pen in hand.
“Why is he here then?”
There were no other planned events for the rest of the semester, and final exams weren’t held until a few weeks later. Unless he miraculously gained the enthusiasm to attend lecture like a normal student overnight, he had no reason to be here.
Wait. Is he here because of me?
Abhay knew she was staring at him from behind the pillar. He turned and met eyes, startling Misha more than her.
He did, in fact, force himself to be here. For him, avoiding college instantly became a lesser priority over Piya’s safety. She wasn’t safe on campus after all. Every professor was shocked to say the least, to see him in the classroom. Whereas he paid half attention, his fellow classmates, excluding Danish, paid zero attention. The first lecture he had became the epicenter of gossip.
Piya didn’t hesitate and rushed to him. T, who already parked herself outside his lecture, stuck out her foot and tripped Piya off balance. But the plot backfired as she landed in Abhay’s outstretched arms. Piya quickly stood up and adjusted her scarf, cheeks red. Danish caught up with Abhay, catching them in the compromising position.
And they say chivalry is dead, he thought to Abhay.
It’s not what it looks like.
Whatever, Denial Raichand.
“Thank you.” She looked back, finding T busy with her nail filer. Abhay walked up to her, plucking the tool from her fingers and throwing it behind him.
“What the hell, Abhay? I just bought that.”
“Apologize.” His tone cut sharp.
“For what? I didn’t do anything.”
He pulled her upright and made her face Piya.
“I won’t ask again.” He said. People began whispering, mostly directed at T. She looked around and swallowed nervously.
Why is Abhay protecting this downmarket girl?
A mouse’s squeak was louder than her fake, apologetic voice. She glared at Piya while eating her words and ran from the scene. Piya wasn’t even sure she was capable of proper apology.
“I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve thanked you. Anyways, what are you doing here?”
“I’m a student. Why wouldn’t I be here?” He commented.
“All of a sudden? I thought you had a school allergy.”
“Hey Raichand.” Misha stomped up to him, interrupting their friendly banter, red in the face from her earlier panic episode. “I almost had a heart attack because of you.”
“I told you there’s no exams right now.” Piya insisted, throwing her arms at the side.
She worried what Abhay was going to say next. He already seemed like he was in a bad mood.
“Blaming me for your ignorance? That’s uncalled for. Maybe instead of relying on my absence or presence, check the schedules. Then maybe I’ll spare you of heart attacks.”
He’s technically right, but he didn’t have to be rude about it, Piya thought, frowning at his behavior. She hated seeing him like this.
Misha’s fuse was lit and dangerously close to exploding. She pointed a finger to his face. He smirked and looked away.
“I knew it. I knew you could never change. I have no idea know what Piya sees in you.”
“Guys—“ Piya tried to damage control, but she was shut out.
“What Piya sees in me is frankly, none of your business.”
“Hey—“
Piya covered her ears and held out her arms.
“Stop it. Both of you.” She frowned. To Misha’s surprise, Abhay backed off just as easily as her. “No more fighting, please.”
Misha stood dumbfounded at this dynamic. Any more and her brain would short-circuit.
He yelled at T for her, and stopped fighting with me on her insistence. This is so weird.
“I’ll see you back at the canteen, Piya.”
She nodded, hoping she didn’t make her angry by cutting her off. Misha blinked once slowly, reassuring her that it was okay. Piya turned back to Abhay after she left, also taking notice of Danish, who patiently waited in the background.
Who’s the guy behind him? He was standing there the whole time.
She smiled at Danish, who smiled back. He stepped forward.
“Come on Abhay. Won’t introduce me?” He elbowed Abhay in the ribs.
He nodded and stepped to the side. “Piya, this is Danish. A friend of mine.”
Friend? So I’m not the only one at least.
“Nice to meet you, Danish.” They shook hands. His skin also felt as cold as ice.
Everyone in his inner circle all feel this way. Strange.
“A pleasure. I never thought I’d have to share this loser with anyone, but I’m glad the day has finally come.”
Danish took note of how Abhay was blatantly staring at Piya the whole exchange. He didn’t even react to be called a loser.
If she’s not your soulmate, I’ll change my name.
Piya smiled and checked her watch. She wanted to stay, but being a student had its own responsibilities.
“Well, I should get going. I have class soon.”
“Alright.” He said. “I’ll see you later.”
“It was nice meeting you, Danish. Keep an eye on this loser. God knows how long he’s been away from campus.”
“You can count on me. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get lost”.
They both laughed, meeting palms in a high five.
Piya ran off, leaving Abhay to watch behind. Several girls in the vicinity fumed at how easily she approached Abhay, and he didn’t even seem to mind. They never had such luck with him, not even T.
“What a sweet girl. Funny too. I like her already.” Danish said, resting his elbow on Abhay’s shoulder. “She called you a loser too and you didn’t even notice. You really are lost.”
“You two seem very friendly for meeting each other for the first time.” Abhay frowned.
“Stay jealous.” He chuckled. “It suits you.”
“I’m not jealous. You and Siddharth just love to tease me.”
“Okay, Denial Raichand.”
Danish looked on as Abhay walked onward to their next lecture.
She suits you too, my friend. Let’s see how long you keep this up.
Avatar and Signatures Shop
Current Affairs
Cricket
1.1k