Chapter 268

Chapter 347: A Bitter Bend on the Road

Prakash Prakash was starting to get worried.

Refusing to enjoy the stolen cider and converse about manly things with his circle of friends, Devananda was pacing about the Market courtyard, pensively immersed, while his gaze occasionally studied the crowds that passed in the Market Square, as though searching for some one.

Prakash Prakash frowned, conjuring a lucid hint of what the whole deal was about.

He rose to his feet, excused himself from the circle of young villagers sharing the cider, and headed for where Devananda shifted impatiently on his feet, "What is it, Deva? Why aren't you with us?"

Devananda looked at his friend, "I can't imagine what would stop her from coming on her usual visits to the Market."

"Her?" asked one of their village friends, who had broken from the circle to enquire what was occupying Devananda's mind.

Devananda faked the purpose of his interest, "I've been meaning to have a word or two with that Varma witch about her last visit to the gold shop which I'd told you all about."

"Yes, what a nerve!!" the young man supported, "I think all these Varmas are headless! Assuming, with pride, that they are welcome in all the places of the world." He then spat on the ground, to affirm his disgust for the Varma clan.

"Anyway," the young villager continued importantly, "It's fortunate, indeed, we won't be seeing much of her anymore..."

Astounded, Devananda stared at him, "What??"

The alarm in his tone alerted the boy's curiosity but Devananda was quick to add, without any hint of emotion, "I was hoping I could remind her what would happen if you rebuked a Malik in public." And then he enquired surreptitiously, "But what has happened? Why won't we see the witch anymore?"

The boy answered, "I heard she's to be married this week."

There was a pitching silence in the aftermath of that casually rendered but weighty revelation.

Prakash Prakash glanced worriedly in his friend's direction.

Devananda stood there, seemingly lost and staring blankly, as though he was trying to figure out the inner meaning of the words he had just heard.

She is to be Married. This Week. Hm. Why am I feeling this strange pain inside my heart? Why do I care? Why? Can't Varmas Marry? Let her marry, for all I care. Who cares? No one cares! I don't care! Chandraki is getting married... Chandraki... My Chandraki is getting married... to someone who is not me... Don't I care?

"Devananda?" Prakash Prakash nudged at his elbow.

Devananda blinked at his friend, extinguishing his flurry trance, "Yes?"

"Are you alright?" asked the village lad, a little worried by the vague look in his friend's eyes.

"Yes," repeated Devananda, unable to utter anything expect that single monosyllable.

Prakash Prakash sighed, "Shall we go home?"

Devananda looked at him, "Home? Yes."

It seemed Devananda's feet had forgotten how to walk so Prakash Prakash had to volunteer to lead him across the Market and head homeward.

But halfway through, Devananda found his reason and, shrugging off Prakash Prakash's hand, steered up a different path.

"Where are you going?" Prakash Prakash asked, following after him.

"To find her."

Prakash Prakash couldn't understand. "Why?"

Devananda halted and turned on his friend, "She's MY girl, P!! MY Chandraki."

He continued on but Prakash Prakash tried to persuade him, "She's a Varma."

"So?"

"So Varmas and Maliks are like oil and water. Remember? They don't mix right."

Devananda led his friend down a second path, "Oil and water may not mix but they are both liquids and they can both be put in the same container."

Prakash Prakash slapped his forehead in reassignment.

Just then, they caught sight of Chandraki and a very handsome (though Devananda found him to be utterly ugly) young man strolling in the direction of the school.

As they crossed the bridge over the paddy field, Chandraki smiled, "This is the schoolhouse I studied in my early days."

"It is a simple looking place," replied the young man, accompanying her, "Do you think your schoolmaster will like us intruding in this hour when he would be occupied with other impossible students like we once were?"

Chandraki laughed lightly, "I think he would be most happy to see me and the man I am to wed."

The young man halted midway on the bridge and held her hand, his kind eyes gazing lovingly at her, "I am glad you said yes to my proposal, Chandraki."

Chandraki blushed, "I was almost certain I wouldn't. But then you came my room and I knew right then and there."

"What?" asked the young man, whispering interestedly, "What did you know?"

"That we were meant for each other," Chandraki whispered.

"Are you?" asked a very intruding voice, and the couple turned to find the tall Devananda standing a few feet away from them, his arms crossed before his chest.

Chandraki's handsome escort let go of her hand as he turned to appraise the intruder, "Sir, were you eavesdropping on our conversation?"

Devananda laughed, "You were both talking so loud that I believe the children in the school must have heard all your soapy statements."

Chandraki's would-be looked offended and he turned to her, "Do you know this man, Chandraki darling?"

Chandraki's hands had fisted but she answered modestly, "Yes, we're-"

"Friends," completed Devananda promptly.

"Enemies," rectified Chandraki brashly, watching Devananda stroll closer to where they stood, "We were classmates as young kids."

Devanada had come to stand next to them, his irritated gaze analysing the other man. "Won't you introduce your new friend, Chandraki darling?" He toned the last words in a perfect imitation of the man who didn't realize that he had been mimicked.

Chandraki smiled forcibly, "This is Vikram Rathod: the man I am engaged to."

To Chandraki's surprise, Devananda took the news fairly well. He leaned against the newly built wooden railing of the bridge and studied the couple, "Really? And when did that happen?"

"Today morning," answered the dashing Vikram.

Prakash Prakash, who stood a few feet away from the company, could sense Devananda practically dripping with cynicism, "Ah! And when is the grand wedding?"

"Two years from now," said Vikram, sliding a warm glance in Chandraki's direction.

"Two years?" Devananda produced an utterly stunned expression for the benefit of his little audience.

Vikram explained to Devananda, "I am yet to finish my masters in medicine, after which I will need to set up a clinic in the city. Only after all that is secure, will I marry my darling Chandraki."

"Clever!" Devananda patted hard on Vikram's back which startled the latter to cough, while the former gazed cuttingly at the singular woman, "What a planned life you'll have, Chandraki!"

Vikram cleared his throat and then interestedly enquired, "Forgive me, but I just realized, I was not told your name, sir."

Devananda gladly introduced himself, "I am Devananda Singh Malik, heir to a very prosperous gold business."

Vikram's face lit, "Malik! I have heard of the Maliks. You have a very famous ancestry, I believe, sir."

Prakash Prakash snorted on seeing Devananda procure poise proud, "We do. We are a very important family in this country."

Vikram took Devananda's hand and shook it, to the surprise of all, "Then you must come to the wedding!"

Chandraki shot the men a disconcerted look and frowned on seeing Devananda's bashful smirk, "You can count on that."

Just then Vikram noticed the time on his pocket watch, "Oh dear! We must leave at once, Chandraki darling. I need to catch the train in one hour." Before departing, he turned to Devananda and wished him farewell, ". It was good to have met you! We must meet again when I visit the village next year."

"I look forward to it," Devananda responded cordially, flashing a wink, and then they shook hands and Vikram departed, Chandraki following after him with a very sour expression. She didn't even steal a glance over her shoulder, knowing quite well that Devananda had his eyes unflinchingly trained on her.

Prakash Prakash came to stand beside Devananda who watched Chandraki until she and Vikram had turned he bend and vanished from sight.

A clever scheme had churned in his devious mind and Devananda spoke aloud, "If she thinks she can get away without an explanation, she is going to be surprised."