Chapter 137

Chapter 214: Master's Meddled Mind

The little boy trudged through the forest for what seemed like eternity until he saw a clearing of trees in the distance.

His legs were tired and trembling with the long plodding and, when he had reached the clearing, he leaned against a tree. His eyes fell on the wide forest floor of the clearing upon which the sun's rays fell timidly.
As the boy watched, the light rays merged in two places and two figures materialized out of them. Astounded by what he was seeing, he stepped back into the shadow of the tree he had been leaning against.
And then his heart leapt.

The two figures in the clearing before him were none other than his mother and father.

Unsure, he waited in the shadows, staring disbelieving at them whose backs were turned to him as they stood in the clearing, bathed in the light.
That was when the mother looked over her shoulder, her gaze reaching out into the darkness where he stood, "Chotey?"

She was smiling kindly. All fear and doubt vanished and the little boy could hold himself no longer.
He stepped forward so they could see him and the sunlight seeping through the treetops fell over him.

He saw his father turn around and look at him.
"Papa..." tears stung in his eyes as he looked at his father.
"Chotey," his father's strong voice called him, "What have I taught you?"
"To love and take care of my family, like you do."
"Do you love your family?"
"Yes, I do." He blinked his tears that were blurring his vision.
"That's my boy," the pride in his father's voice rang clear.
"Chotey," his mother called to him again and he looked at her sad face.
"Amma, are you crying?"
The mother spoke nothing.
"Amma, please don't cry."
"Chotey," the mother pleaded softly, "Promise me you will grow up to be like your father."
"Anything you want, Amma," vowed the little boy.
Suddenly the ground shook and a crack formed where his mother was standing.
"AMMA!!!"
His mother slipped into the gaping crack but her hands moved in quick reflex, and she had caught the ridge by one hand, hanging onto it with every bit of strength she had.

"No, No!" she cried, looking up at her husband who stood in his towering height beside the hole, looking down at her. "Please," she begged, "I want to be with my children. Please."
The little boy tried to reach his mother but he couldn't; his hands could never grasp her. She was not made of what he was made of.
The tear-stricken boy looked imploringly at his father who stood passively by the side, "Papa, please, do something! Save Amma!!"
His father frowned at him, "Do you not love your family?"
Endless tears ran down the little one's cheeks, "I do, that is why I want you to save her."
"Take care of your sister," his father said coldly and then before the little boy's eyes, the father leapt into the gaping hole, one outstretched hand pulling at the hanging woman's hand and dragging her with him into the huge darkness as the child's cry echoed, "NOOO!!!! You liar! I will never be like you!! NEVER!"

"Brother?" Lord Akash's voice came from afar.

With a jerk, Lord Arnav sat up and looked around.
He was sitting in his armchair in the library and it seemed darker than usual. Though it was still late in the afternoon, the sun was early to set because of the storm clouds approaching over the land.

Damned dreams! Cursing, he turned his attention to the one at the doorway.

"Yes, Akash?"

Lord Akash squinted around the gloomy library, "Why have you not lit a candle in here? It's late and-"

"Is there something you wanted of me?" interrupted the impatient First Lord.

"Well, it's just that..." Lord Akash paused, uncertain of what he should say. Finally, he shrugged and, stepping into the room, he slid a folded parchment guiltily onto the table before Lord Arnav who frowned at it, "What is this?"

"It's something," Lord Akash attempted awkwardly, "From the village."

Groaning, Lord Arnav grimaced distastefully at the letter, "Whatever do I need correspondence from the Village for! Give it to Kushi!"

"It's addressed for your eyes alone, brother," said Lord Akash seriously.

Lord Arnav lifted a scornful eyebrow and eyed his brother, "Does it contain anything remotely similar to what Nani and Di have been trying for the past few weeks?"

Lord Akash shrugged helplessly, "Forgive me, brother, but I do not know, for I was not permitted to pry the contents of the letter."
And then, since there was nothing more to be said, Lord Akash excused himself and left the library, leaving Lord Arnav to his solitude once again with a suspicious epistle for company.

Sighing, he lit the single candle on his table and then, leaning back in his armchair, he closed his eyes and tried to calm his mind that was still in turbulence on the aftermath of the reverie he'd had. His mind soon gave way to new thoughts, those that were also not devoid of ill feelings. He found it hard to overcome the disturbance that had rippled his resolve for having denied Kushi her happiness. "How can I go there when I know it cannot be safe... What if I should-" He pressed his lips together and tried to push the image away.

Of late, he had struggled hard to never stray into situations where he would be vulnerable to harm others and he had always been supported in this endeavor by his sister and his grandmother. He was confused why they were not cogitating on the ill consequences of him staying in an unprotected place. How could they be so steadfast in their belief that he would not endanger anything if he were to stay in the Village? Did they know something he didn't know...?

As these thoughts swarmed over his mind, his eyes fell on the folded parchment before him. Before he knew it, his fingers were reaching for it and flipping it open.

To the husband of my beloved niece Kushi.

Dear Arnavbabua ,

Lord Arnav's eyebrows rose in sheer surprise.

(I was myself surprised when I could easily address you this way and not feel it was wrong...it seems as though I was always meant to call you babua instead of address you by your lordship)

Before appraising the liberty by which I called you babua, you must comprehend the liberty that I have taken to write this letter to you, being a first between us.

Since you married my niece in quite an unexplained hurry, I could not get to know you as well as I knew Akashbabua. So I am not certain if what I write will offend you or if it will enlighten you to understand the reason why I pen this missive.

I understand that you must find it hard to relocate, even for a day, to the Village and that to spend a day in a place that is not your Castle is unthinkable.

He narrowed his gaze suspiciously. Was this aunt of Kushi about to honey her way into changing his decision?

But allow me to assure you, babua, we would never permit you an air of helplessness and discomfort for, in all assurance, this place is as much a home to you as your Castle is. It may not be analogous in space and structure and, of course, there are not many maids (in fact, there are no maids and servants at all) but those who love you and care for your every need, you will find here as well.

He let out a sigh, wanting not to proceed further with the letter.

He slid the parchment onto the table and leaned back in his armchair but something kept gnawing at his mind and his gaze was relentlessly drawn to the letter.

Finally, letting out a frustrated grunt, he leaned forward, seized the parchment up and scanned the page until he reached the part where he'd stopped reading.

I know you will understand when I tell you this but we, especially Shashi and Garima, are dying to see you and their youngest daughter whom, you will remember, they were unprepared to let go. And yet, they let her go, knowing she was to be your wife and found consolation in the conviction that you would take good care of her.

However, we cannot deny that we do miss her. Greatly. And we would like to meet you too and wish to get better acquainted with the young gentleman who owns our little miscreant. Pardon me for referring to your wife so crudely, but before she was your wife, she was our little Princess and, truthfully, she is not an easy one to hold still.

A sly smile crept on his face. He was beginning to like this aunt of hers.

You must have experienced it by now how impossible it is to keep her prattling mouth shut, her exhilarating enthusiasm corked, and her tripping idiocies at bay. But, warmly, I acknowledge that by this time you will also have found her to have a heart that wishes good for others, sees that smiles are spread around and makes everyone she engages with feel special.

His gaze turned warm in acknowledgment.

The house does miss her spirited display of atrocities. Last day, I catch sight of the earnestness with which Garima asked Payalia to tell her about how Kushibitya was doing and all the things she was up to. But no narration can satisfy a mother's heart unless she meets her purported daughter in person.

This letter is not a request to consider sending our Kushibitiya to us. This is a request from all three of us to spend some time with our daughter and our newfound son. We want to meet you as much as we want to see our daughter. We are hoping you will consider this, babua.

And whatever be your answer, even if you are to refrain from visiting, it will be hard but I will understand that you have a reason to it.

Oh dear. Lord Arnav shook his head and frowned. She's doing it. She's driving her sweet way into tweaking with my decisions.

Grudgingly, he let his eyes read the remaining...

I ask only this: keep my daughter happy always. She has had a hard life though we have tried to make it cheery enough for her but her beginnings were not really easy and the smiling youngster only faintly remembers how it had once weighed upon her childish heart.

He frowned, remembering the rainy night when she had rushed to embrace him in sought of strength while her father lay unconscious within the house and the herbalist administered every possible remedy to right him back.

She had said something about her losing her parents and he had learnt at that moment that she was the adopted child of the Guptas... What had happened to her real parents?

He had always wondered about this but had not wanted to enquire into it, feeling that as much as the past hurt her, she would be gravely pained to be reminded of it...like it was with him.

The horrifying dream he'd had a few minutes back returned in fragments to his mind and he shook his head to drive them off before returning his attention back to the letter.

Also, I must ask you for one more thing, babua: keep this letter a secret. This is just between you and me. Not even Garima, Shashi or Payalia know about me writing this. Akashbabua, the trustworthy messenger I chose to afford this letter to your hand, is the only other one besides us who knows of the existence of this letter and he is entirely ignorant as to its contents.

Hence, it is wise if you keep this secret intact and, better yet, if you burn it as soon as you have done reading it. You see, babua, I say this especially keeping in mind a certain person who is special to both of us: for that young lady has the habit of picking up every stray paper or string that comes her way. And I don't know how but everything, that does not need her curious nose probing into it, finds itself wandering into her path.

Lord Arnav was astonished by the accuracy with which the lady had deduced and described the characteristics of his wife and the circumstances she was compelled to create. This aunt of hers definitely deserved a congratulatory handshake.

Lord Arnav snorted. Of course, she can't be presented the promised handshake because I am not going to see her.

And then he paused worriedly. Or am I?

Wishing you good and hoping against hope that your answer will be an affirming one,

Your Buaji (as much as I am your wife's)

Mistress Madhumati

Swordsmith's Cottage

The South Village

The letter had ended and, with it, the torture of its coaxing words, but Lord Arnav was not happy. His fist crushed the parchment into a crumple for he knew why he was feeling exceptionally sour at the moment. And he didn't like it one bit.