Chapter 192

Chapter 273: News of the Night

It was the early hour of dawn when the maids and servants were stirring awake and fumbling about with the beginnings of their day's chores.

Leaning against the frame of the kitchen backdoor to the Castle, HariPrakash had only begun brushing his teeth when he hesitated with his foamy mouth slightly open and his eyes widened in astonishment on sighting the First Lady. Her long hair undone and her nightly robe dirtied, she was scampering across the lawn in the direction of the Castle's backdoor.

When she had reached the open door to the kitchen, she greeted the stunned servant with a serious good morning and requested importantly that he hastily bring her a pot of hot water as soon as he was done with his morning wash.

The astounded servant stared after her, as she vanished into the Castle through the backdoor, wondering what had stirred up the First Lady from her sleep so early that had her walking about in the garden and speaking without her usual chirpiness.

Even when he had obliged her request and brought the basin of warm water to her chamber, she seemed to be engrossed in sombre thoughts and dismissed him from her room without further intentions of conversation.

HariPrakash was confused. Had Lady Kushi overnight, by some spell or dream, transformed herself from her ever-pleasant childlike self into a mirror mate of her husband, at last succumbing to the ultimatum of her title as First Lady?

But in truth, as you will remember, Kushi had not transformed herself into her husband's persona but had acquired of herself a newer refinement that came with her having to hassle with the realizations of the yester. She was also angered that her husband had sent her off to the Castle while he set off to the Industry where he preferred to bathe and change into newer clothes in solitude with no family to pry into his whereabouts.

Kushi knew he needed his space, but she also indignantly recognized that it was his way of avoiding the inevitable. His promise of telling her the truth about his past, as painful as the recollection may be to him, was thwarted aside so easily.

I'll tell you as soon as we are within our chamber of the Castle... His voice from the night made her frown.

I'll get you when you return, she vowed.

Fuming, Kushi scrubbed hard at her legs and hands, trying to undo the blemishes of the foreboding forest and, if possible, the horrible memory of all that she had witnessed and heard.

All of a sudden, a wave of weakness lapped at her furious soul and she broke down crying, slumping against the bathtub. The night she had endured in blinding fear, the horror of what she had seen, the shock of learning what her husband was and the grieving things she'd learnt about her father...they weighed upon her shoulders like boulders thrust down from an outlandish mountain of height. Weeping, she inclined her head against the marble head of the tub, trying to let the coldness of the stone ease her heated heart.

After a while, bringing her senses to composure, she resumed her bath, dried herself and then dressed into a bath robe. It was as she walked out of the bath chamber that she comprehended that the sounds she had thought were issuing from the garden, were actually those of muffled knocks upon the bed chamber door.

"Who is it?" she asked, reluctant to let anyone in, while her heart was not set in rightness. She knew it was not her husband at the door, for he never had the habit of knocking. He always barged in, even in places he was unwelcome and uninvited.

"It is I, my lady," came the lowered reply, in the voice of the kind, old butler.

Something about his voice comforted Kushi, her mind flooded with images of her smiling father.

"Come in, Rahim Chacha," she found herself saying.

The butler hesitantly opened the door. Noticing her garbed in merely a bath robe, he bowed respectfully and spoke to the floor, "If it may not be too bold of me to enquire, I only wanted to ensure my lady was safe and feeling alright."

"I am well, as you can see, Chachaji," said Kushi plainly, moving towards the wardrobe, her back turned to him, "Why such an enquiry, unusual of the morning, do you make?"

"My lady, I wish not to intrude, but I know you haven't been home last night."

This remark stopped Kushi in her steps and she turned around, surprised, "How do you know?"

"I am the butler, my lady," replied Rahim Chacha, a kind smile on his face. "There is nothing I do not know."

Kushi paused, wonderingly, and then she looked at him, "Do you know then that your Master was not at home either?"

"I do, my lady," said the butler.

"Then why do you not worry about his absence and enquire only after mine?"

The butler replied apologetically, "He has had the habit of staying out most of the nights, the regularity of which decreased after he married you."

"I see," Kushi mumbled absentmindedly while she studied the butler's face, "How long did you say you have been with this family, Chachaji?"

"Ever since Lady Mother married into the Raizadas," said the butler, and there seemed to have been a wise glint in his eyes when he said this, as though he knew where the conversation was leading.

Kushi nodded slowly, waiting for her newfound conclusions to sink in, and then asked, "If I were to tell you that your Master is not who you think he is, what would you say to that?"

The butler's gaze was direct as were his steady words, "I'd say it is true, as my lady herself is aware of."

Kushi was startled by his answer but she maintained a calm face, "What do you think I am aware of?"

The butler didn't reply. Instead, he only looked at her, his kind face wrinkled with concern.

He knows! Kushi comprehended with staggering conviction. He really knows!!

"My lady," he finally said, excusing himself, "If you will permit me, I must see to some matter than needs urgent care."

"Certainly," Kushi nodded, her tone resigned, as she returned her attention to the wardrobe. The butler, bowing, shut the door softly and departed.

Outside the door, Rahim Chacha paused a moment and then, as though he had made up his mind, walked across the landing and turned his prudent steps down the corridor that led to the room at the farthest end.

On reaching it, he knocked upon the door and when the subdued response admitted him in, he opened the door and bowed to the two women seated therein.

He paused, waiting until Lady Anjali had handed her grandmother her early morning coffee.

Then, when Lady Deviyani nodded at him, he stated, "It has happened, Lady Mother, but she is safe."

Lady Anjali appeared confused and Lady Deviyani too, had betrayed signs of miscomprehension, but then her anxious eyes lit and she said hastily to the butler, "I shall have my breakfast in my room today in the company of my granddaughter and the First Lady. Inform the servants to prepare a tray for three. But first, alert Kushibitiya that I must see her. At once."

"Instantly, my lady," the butler bowed and hastily left.

"Nani," Lady Anjali's uncertainly voiced, "What is all this about?"

"Don't you see," Lady Deviyani looked at her, eyes filled with hope, "She is safe. She saw him and she knows. But she is unharmed." Lady Anjali gasped and then tears of joy filled her eyes, "At last!" And then Nani sprung up, "I must see her! I cannot be sure until I see her. Why is he taking so long?!" She was about to step towards the door, when it opened from the other side and in walked the magnificently gowned Kushi, her gaze solemn as she looked at Lady Anjali and then at Nani.

It was at the same time that both Kushi and Lady Deviyani said their first words of greeting to each other, "I know."

Chapter 274: The Beginning of the Revelations

As the three women sat to breakfast in Lady Deviyani's room, silence had come to hover like a haunting spectre of the moment. Even the usually boisterous Fortune was quiet, as though his petty birdbrain sensed the portentous elephant in the room, which drove him to a distant perch on the window sill.

They had not touched anything on the tray, their appetites lost to distracting thoughts and unquenched questions. The tea in their forgotten cups was cold and tasteless. Lady Anjali preoccupied herself with breastfeeding Anarkali but her mind was hurling in the storm in which the thoughts of the others were reeling in.

Lady Deviyani was looking forlornly at the window when her voice broke the silence, "How instantly, in a flash, are shattered the happiness of the present and the security of the future, when the ghosts of the past visit us."

Lady Anjali looked up from her child to her grandmother, a sadness dimming the light in her eyes.

Lady Deviyani looked at Kushi, who sat forward to ask, "I know you never mean me any harm but I would like to know why you kept this from me."

It was Lady Anjali who answered, "Kushiji, I am as much at fault as Nani is, for denying you the knowledge that you rightfully deserved as Chotey's wife. But you must know: we would have told you if we could."

Kushi looked from Lady Anjali to Nani, as though seeking affirmation of the statement made by one from the other. Lady Deviyani caught Kushi's eye and nodded, "Aye, my child, our intentions were impaled by our reserves. You see...the rubrics of any cosmic curse assert that it would be fatal if a person, unfamiliar in blood and bond, were to vision or be made aware of a cursed man's truth."

"But I am his wife," began Kushi, "Wouldn't that bond suffice enough to accord me a revelation?"

"You are his wife, but not one who is familiar with time to his being or his powers. We could not reveal even a hint of caution, until time's proximity of the curse had allowed you to glimpse the reality and emerge from the find, unhurt and unshaken."

"I don't understand," Kushi frowned, mentally struggling to place the pieces together, "Are you telling me that you had to wait for me to encounter his bestial form or witness its transformation and be unscathed by it before I could be divulged in the details of his past?"

"Precisely," said Lady Deviyani remorsefully, "I was afraid I would have to wait months and years before it happened but this..." Her aged features relaxed, "This is a comforting turn."

"Comforting is the word that would least describe what I feel," said Kushi, a slight tone of displeasure in her voice, "Am I to suppose that you let me be wed to a cursed man, uncaring for my safety and leaving my sanity in the hands of Time?"

Nani paled, "That is not how we meant it-" But Lady Anjali interjected, "We were not uncaring of your safety. We wouldn't have resolved to your marriage unless we were certain you couldn't be harmed. Only, you two got yourselves secretly hitched before we could do anything to be certain of it!"

"And yet we WERE and ARE certain of it," put in Nani hastily, her eyes filling with tears, "I knew from the day I first saw you that you were the one we were waiting for, the one who was worthy to be the love and life of my Chotey."

"And there was no way his curse could harm you because of that," asserted Lady Anjali, her eyes trained endearingly on Kushi.

Kushi shook her head, "I still don't understand. Are you saying you had decided that I would be his wife even before he forced me into wedding him?"

"Yes!" said both Nani and Lady Anjali eagerly.

"How can that be?" Kushi was stumped.

"Destiny!!" replied Nani, almost celebrating the word.

Kushi's eyebrows rose, "I am quite not certain how Destiny could-"

And then she saw it: in her mind, images and memories flashed in succession, and she knew it could not all have happened without reason - how she'd unordinarily volunteered to go to the Orchard Summer Sale when it had always been a solitary venture of her Jiji's; how her curiosity couldn't keep her off the rosebush lending her to land right into the arms of her future husband; how her repeated attempts to not encounter him in the paths of her life led her steps running right to his very feet; his wish-key that she'd found, in returning which she inflamed a pending feud; the resultant plot of the revengeful play that drove her out of the North Village, which also led her to meet the General for the first time as her rescuer; the chance collision of her cart with his horse, in the aftermath of which she became aware of the existence of the Industry that was directed to her as a refuge, also by the General; her decision of seeking employment there and the mad days that followed under his reckless reign over her; her resignation from that profession that was timed and placed such that she would instantly receive an invitation to be handmaid to Lady Lavanya in his own home; the torturous endurance of being in the same place he lived where encounters resulted in more heated arguments and appalling insights; how their proximity also initiated and nurtured the bond between her Jiji and his brother; the latter's proposal of marriage to the other which would make the two enemies become family; the days of preparation that rendered doubtful inclinations of affection between the once-sworn adversaries; the night of jubilation turned to a night of horror by his sudden urge to make her his wife with no warning or due preparations or familial consents, once again triggered by the General...

Kushi sat, dazed and stupefied, as though she had just been banked on the chair after a plunging drown in the tumultuous ocean of reminiscences.

She fidgeted with her fingers as she breathed slowly, trying to calm her racing heart while her mind remained eroded by the unbridled images: It was a chain of happenings, all events a resultant consequence of another, but everything connected to the one thing that was significantly frequent: her binding to him, their becoming together. First in enterprise, then in employment and finally in marriage.

Seeing that Kushi was immersed in thoughts, Nani and Lady Anjali had respectfully waited for her to find herself again. They were eager to continue with the conversation, for, as each concealed thought and memory began to be disclosed, they could themselves feel themselves lightened at heart, unburdening all they had caged in aching secret, and more nearer bound to Kushi's trust and affection.

Finally, Kushi looked up and her eyes were moist, "I see it all. I see what you mean." And then she paused uncertainly, "But what did destiny see in me that would qualify me to be his wife, or him my husband?"

Nani almost broke to tears when she replied with the words, "Can you not see it for yourself?" She held her hands forward, as though yearning to touch Kushi but unwanting to mark her, "Can you not see how you complete each other, in your flaws, in your weaknesses, in your goodness and in your strengths... how no woman can change him to be a better man and no man can love you to be a greater woman as the two of you can for each other?"

Lady Anjali lay her sleeping child on her lap and then lifted her motherly gaze to Kushi, "You are his cure, Kushiji. You always have been."

"Cure?" Kushi jolted on hearing the word, "How can I be a cure?"

"We are not certain of it ourselves," said Lady Anjali, "but we know every curse can be killed with the right person to love."

"Love?" Kushi shifted uneasily, the echo of the General's repeated requests ringing in her ears. She wanted to ask about the General too but, first, she needed to be clear about everything that entailed to her dear husband.

"If love must be the cure to every curse, are the reasons that lead to curses the same?"

"Not always," said Lady Anjali in a guarded tone, "Each curse is a punishment or a penance in reparation for one's wrongdoing or wrong-thinking."

"Wrong-thinking?" Kushi repeated.

Lady Anjali nodded gravely, "One's thoughts are as eligible as one's deeds to be errant, for which one cannot avoid being atoned for."

Kushi was silent and before she could ask anymore, Lady Deviyani spoke, "I think it would be best if we told you the whole story that led to this moment. I shall not go into much of a detail but I will try to privy you as much as I can with regard to all the matters that need your understanding in concern of your husband."

Chapter 275: Nani's Tale of Woe

Marrying into the Raizada name was a blessing I still consider gratefully. The ancient Raizadas were famous for their fortune, but as you know, wealth is not eternal. The grandeur of the clan soon subdued to a mediocrity of survival that left them with only one feature of dignity: their name. You see, ordinariness of existence can never take away the honour and esteem that a name is conferred upon by royals of earliest time.

I was new to the traditions and customs of the clan but, as my husband Damodhar oft admired in me, I was also a quick leaner. My life was the happiest any woman could ever dream of: a loving husband and three splendid children to cherish my future with.

But how quickly children grow and the innocent days fade into memory...

Though my sons were the eldest, as was customary for Indian girls, it was my youngest, my Nalini, whom I wedded off first. My Damodhar had taken it for granted that he was giving our daughter away to a man who had once loved another woman. He was persuaded, by the promises of the Malik clan and the assurances of the Elders in their family, that the groom could be trusted and that my daughter would never know any cause of offence. The past is past, afterall, and into the future one must grace with new dreams.

The man who became my Nalini's husband was an unusual man. Devananda Malik was prone to being to himself often, poring over books and managing the family business of gold. He gave no outward signs of regretting his past, nor did he make any effort to show affection to my daughter. But I was assured by her that he was good to her and allowed her to have her way in his mansion, letting the servants pay heed to her every bidding. I remember Dev in the beginning years to be a reserved man, one of few words and of occasional appearances.

But after Nalini gave birth to Anjalibitiya, I saw a great change come over him. He began to be more cheerful, occupying his time in being with his daughter than with his formal affairs. I thought I saw signs of his love for Nalini, and I comforted myself that she was indeed happy with him. Happiness abounded more after the birth of Arnavbitwa. The little boy doted on his father in every measure and matter. And his father loved him unfathomably.

Shortly after my eldest son Mahendra was wedded, my Damodhar died, leaving me on this earth with children and grandchildren to care for me. But life never felt the same. We were respectful people, Raizadas, and we never asked for help from anyone. It was a struggle, watching my sons try to make the best of what they could.

However, there were some discrepancies between them and gradually, after Manohar was married to Manorama, it became difficult for the two families to stay under one roof. So, leaving the family house to Mahendra, Manohar left for the Central provinces, seeking better prospects. It is hard for a mother to live to see her sons separate and then watch one journey to lands that are not home.

My only joy was my grandchildren. Though I stayed with my eldest and his children in the family house, I made sure I found frequent occasions to visit my Anjalibitiya and Chotey. Their parents brought them up well and it was a delight to talk to them, the eagerness with which they asked me questions and then shared with me their curious knowledge obtained from the books in their father's massive library. Oh, you should have seen that library: it was five times the library we have in our Castle!

It was at one such occasion, when I had come to visit my daughter and her children, that she told me about a disturbing find. She remarked to me that Dev had become his old self again, removed and preoccupied, not giving time or thought to his family. He spent too much time in his world of books and accounts and in his dealings in the gold business that he handled with his brother.

I comforted her that he was perhaps having a hard time with managing the family business and told her she would find him in his usual spirits again, as soon as the crisis in the trade was over.

She never spoke to me anything about this matter ever again. Nor did I ever ask her. So I presumed, somewhere down the days, he had found himself again and she was content.

But I realize I was wrong. I came to know of this only a lot later. By then, it was too late.

Time flew by and my grandchildren had grown into their youthful brilliance. It was soon Anjalibitiya's eighteenth year and she was to be wedded away to a very prosperous family. It was a grand occasion indeed and all the preparations were done in exceptional luxury.

I could see that my daughter and her husband seemed to be more anxious and busy in the preparations and I assumed easily that they were caught up in the worry of making things wonderful while trying to hide the sorrow of having to let their daughter leave their house that week. It is always a difficult moment, letting your child go, saying goodbye to a daughter so dear to your life, and your love for her is almost clinging to your heart that you'd die the day she goes...

But then, things turned for worse on the night of the wedding.

It was still four hours before the ceremony when I was bewildered to behold my daughter crying in her room. I had gone to comfort her, supposing I knew what she was sad about, but it was a tale of the contrary that I was apprised to.

She told of the distressing years in which her husband had lately begun to be more distanced and difficult to understand. He had not, as I had believed, become his spirited self, but quite the reverse, become more removed and secretive. She told me of her growing suspicions and how, once, wanting to put her mind to ease, she had ventured to ask him of it. He confirmed in rage of the love he had had before her and it broke her heart.

It was later that she found, by inadvertent means, that he had seen the other woman on various occasions, and even, on the week of his daughter's wedding!

I was disturbed by all this and could not restrain myself. I headed straight to find him and get to the root of the matter, but on learning that he was absent in the mansion and had gone for some pressing business, I delayed in wait. I was furious for I knew well where he had gone, and to think that in a few hours his daughter was to be wedded in a religious and faithful gesture!

I had not been alerted of his arrival, for I had been with the guests and my grandchildren, being there for them as any protective grandmother would be. I could not let anything tamper with their happiness or with my grandchild's auspicious wedding, and I had decided to be private about the dealing of the whole affair with Dev.

When he came, Nalini went out to meet him, triggered perhaps to a determination after confessing the weight in her heart to her mother.

A few heated words exchanged between them roused the attention of the household, but before I or anyone could intervene, it had happened.

Apparently, Dev had kept to himself one of the guns that had been on the brackets of his mansion. In the madness of the moment, he shot my daughter and then, realizing what he'd done and unable to bear the guilt, shot himself. It is only heart-breaking that, among the first ones to find them dead on the night of their daughter's wedding, other than Dev's brother was...Arnavbitwa. He was barely fifteen then.

I was there when it happened, and so was my Anjalibitiya, dressed in her glittering garbs, her beautiful face, pale with fright and tear-stricken.

In the anger and shock of the moment, Chotey cursed the heavens and called blasphemies upon the powers that were not to be blamed but man's own weaknesses of the flesh and emotion. I tried to hold him back, beckoned him to be pacified, but my pained heart could only do so little.

Young Chotey's furious words and tears tore the night and rent the air with his merciless abhorrence.

At that moment, before our very eyes, as his wrathful words broke off, a sudden flash of lightning from the dark sky struck the place where he stood. We were shocked, fearing the worst, that we'd lost a third to the mortal night.

But, in moments, we realized it would have been better he had died in that instant than let him endure what came after that.

At the cursed strike of the lightning, he had transformed into a monster, a huge tiger, white as the lightning that had punished him, and huge as the hatred that grew in his heart.

We could only stand and stare in shock; Anjalibitiya, her uncle and I. My heart couldn't bear to see what had happened, things I'd always heard of in our village stories but never seen to believe. It had come upon my dear grandson and he had befallen into the pit of the cursed one.

The torment of the night prevailed. Anjalibitiya's wedding celebrations broke and her engagement was called off. The children were helpless to even mourn the loss of their parents in the mad dispute that was spared to their knowledge. But somehow, they knew of it and I could do nothing to console them. As much as he had adored his father, Chotey began to abhor him with every core of his existence. I decided to stay with my orphaned grandchildren at the Malik mansion now that they had no one to care for them except me and Dev's brother, their uncle.

And then there was the curse. It racked his body day and night, tearing his senses to pieces and leaving him disoriented, lost and savage. It was by the profanity of his words that he had brought the curse upon him and hence, it was his tongue that suffered most. He would get into wild fits that would render him insane and hungry and, if we didn't give him something to bite or lick, he would attack the first being of blood he would find.

When he was young, he knew not to control it and he would wreck everything and everyone that stood in his way. No one was killed, fortunately, he was too young to take life. But the instinct was alive in him and we knew it would not be long before the beast born of his curse took over him.

His Malik uncle devised an instrument to keep him under control whenever he was prone to one of his wild fits. The same instrument in which he forced you to sleep in during the first week of your marriage to him: yes, the cage of gold, made from a quarter of the gold in the family business.

He hated the cage and yet was comforted by its existence. Though it was his prison, it assured him of the safety of those who would otherwise be attacked by him.

When he recovered from his fits, he would cry and wail, for the pain was unbearable in his human form and his remorse would return of his family gone and his being cursed. He cursed the Powers incessantly, even if we'd told him it was because of this he'd been punished. But he would never change his ways or correct himself. Stubbornly sticking to his anger and hatred, he spited everyone and everything.

He was guilty of the destruction he made when he was not himself but he spared no apology or regret. He carried on resolutely, bearing the pain and the anguish and growing larger in dark thoughts and intentions. He was dangerous but he had also become ruthless.

And then an incident occurred in which a child died and the family mutinied against his being let free in the territory. It trembles me to my very bones to even remember...

Until finally, his uncle could not hold him no longer and forced him to be shut in the cage for days. Even when he was in his human self, he was not be let out and he endured in it like an animal that was to be despised and detached from. Sometimes, when I pleaded, his uncle would be kind to let Chotey out of the cage but he was still not trusted to be himself. So his leg or wrist would be tied by a rope or chain, whichever was first obtained, to one of the gold bars of the cage and he was allowed the freedom to walk and mingle by the circumdistance that was obtainable from that length of chain.

It was infernal to watch him live that way but we were helpless and he knew it.

One night, I still don't know how, he found himself the courage and the strength to run away, his chained arm dragging the heavy gold cage after him. It was humanely impossible but it only proved that he was becoming more stronger by the cursed beast that lived inside of him.

If Rahim Chacha had not seen him, we would not have known he'd gone until the morning of the next day.

You see, Rahim Chacha was my Damodhar's personal servant, given to him when he married me. Though he is my age, I have always been respectful of his devotion to my husband and called him Chacha. He has constantly been a faithful aside and, after my Damodhar died, Rahim Chacha left his family to serve me and be by my side through all my struggles and misgivings. When I'd moved to the Malik mansion, he had come with me, accompanying me and assisting me loyally in all the misery and madness that unravelled within those walls.

The night Chotey absconded, Rahim Chacha awakened me and, along with Anjalibitiya, we fled after him. We had intended to return back to the Malik mansion once we found him, but after seeing Chotey more liberated and in control of himself amidst the forest, we decided to nomad through the woods for a while until his youthful helplessness had worn off and he had found himself again under control.

I never dreamed in my life I would live the life of the sages in the myths. Surviving by the fruits and roots obtained from the forest, sleeping under trees or tents made of leaves. I was not young anymore to enjoy adventures like those. My health was failing and my courage was fast depleting. Besides, I was afraid for my granddaughter. Anjalibitiya was still an unmarried, young woman and it was not safe, trekking her over unknown corners of the dark world and spending nights out in the open forests. I felt myself a failure as a grandmother and in my duties to my grandchildren.

Rahim Chacha was my sole strength during those days and it was he who confided the idea of seeking refuge in my second son's home. Manohar and Manorama, I knew, would be more than happy to receive their niece and nephew and care for them.

But we had to wait a while longer, until the initial tremors of the curse had worn off and Chotey had begun to be more himself. He would often go missing in the nights and we were always frightened, seeing the blood in his hands and thinking that he'd killed someone, but fortunately, he had learned to treat himself to the nocturnal animals of the forest and not to human flesh.

And yet, there were days when he was not his usual self, he would feel himself desirous of human flesh. Often, he would voluntarily lock himself up in that damned cage when he sensed he could not restrain himself. On other occasions, I would myself try to stay him. It was one such instance that led me to lose my finger.

Yes, you see this wrapping over my hand. I do it to hide my hand that is absent of a finger that I lost in one of my foolish initiatives to try to control him.

He was having one of his fits and I could see that he would seek prey, but his eyes were trained on Anjalibitiya. I was afraid for her, ofcourse, but she assured me he would never hurt her. But I couldn't be certain of it so I ventured to do something about it. In a moment that he bounded forward, thinking that he was aiming for my granddaughter, I steered away in defence and then confronted to hold him away with my bare hands. He was not himself and knew not what he was doing. Angered by my adamant obstruction, he instinctually reacted, snarling and snapping... I still shudder to think of that moment and what would have happened if I had not moved myself away in time. I would perhaps have lost more than a finger...

Nevertheless, with the passage of time and having overcome a lot of hassles, we endured and finally brought ourselves to Manohar's place, where he and his wife received us warmly. Chotey was now more in control of himself and, every time he sensed one of his relentless fits was near at hand, he would either venture out to some remote place or bind himself down. To better distract his mind and make something out of himself, he began to be concerned in the affairs of his uncle's Cotton business, along with his cousin. He became so good at it, handling the economic and political front of the business, that he transformed it into a Silk trade that exported the finest merchandise of silk to various parts of the world.

As fortune mounted and the chest of our wealth brimmed over, Chotey charted plans to relocate himself, with the profit earned from the business, to a land more rich in resources of silk. That is how he convinced his uncle to move to Arhasia with all of us in tow, and he bought large portions of the land to build his empire and establish his acclaimed Silk Industry.

The rest is history, as you know, Kushibitiya. It was not an easy thing, keeping this from you, but now that we have finally revealed to you all that had been concealed, we want to assure you that you are part of a great future and we chose you because Destiny chose you, because by your love you are healing my Chotey's hatred and helping him become a man of love...