Hasta-prāpya-stabaka-namito bāla-Mandāra-vṛkṣaḥ
(The young Mandar-tree burdened with flowers within hand's reach)
Chapter One
"Raja, beṭā, I have good news for you. Pallavi is waiting for you in my clinic," Dr. Ramya was saying over the phone. The man known as Raja opened his eyes wide, his pulse rate increased, and his stomach fluttered as Dr. Ramya continued, "I just spoke to Vishnu and told him to call the dispatcher and request the rest of the day off for both of you. Pallavi isn't going anywhere until she sees you for herself, so just drive carefully to the clinic. Remember to breathe deeply, and if you start to feel unwell, pull over."
As Raja drove his ambulance to the clinic, with Vishnu in the passenger seat next to him, he managed to take deep breaths, but his thoughts were churning. Today had begun like any other day. He had woken up to his alarm clock alone, resisted the urge to imagine a handsome face smiling at him and strong arms drawing him close, and reminded himself, "Be faithful to Pallavi," as was his habit whenever he wanted to forget those dreams and keep away those private thoughts that he knew were wrong. After his morning exercises, washing up, and breakfast, he had met Vishnu at the ambulance terminal and responded to a few assignments. They had treated and reported on patients, transported and comforted them, and suppressed their own emotions to remain alert and professional throughout. He had expected that when their shift ended, he would spend the rest of the day outdoors, like any other day, watching other young men going about with their girlfriends and wives, telling himself that he only wanted to feel what they did. Now, after Dr. Ramya's phone call, he knew it was now or never. When he saw Pallavi and heard her voice, would he feel love for her - like a good man?
What if he didn't feel it? He didn't want to be a bad man. He didn't want to be unlovable.
"You were right, Raja. Pallavi is a real person," Vishnu was saying. "I am sorry I doubted you."
"Doubted me? You outright told me that I wasn't committed to therapy unless I agreed to be paired with a woman. I told you that I don't remember my life before the accident, I only remember the name Pallavi. I might belong to Pallavi already, and you wanted me to betray her just to prove my manhood. You're my sponsor, Vishnu, you're supposed to help me stay on the straight and narrow path. Isn't infidelity a sin, whether I look at a woman or a man?"
"Yes, Raja. I was only concerned that your mind was playing tricks on you, holding you back. Sometimes, you have to take a step forward to kick-start the natural process. Anyway, we'll find out who Pallavi is soon enough."
Raja parked the ambulance outside Dr. Ramya's clinic, and he and Vishnu walked in to her office. Dr. Ramya's visitors were two women wearing gorgeously patterned hand-woven sarees. One had large, reflective green eyes; she stood up, tall and graceful, her long straight hair flowing freely, and looked at him steadily, her face pale. The other woman, not as tall, with her thick hair in a long braid over one curvaceous shoulder, flashed him a dazzling smile that lit up her dark-brown eyes.
"Raja and Vishnu, this is Pallavi Rao," Dr. Ramya said, introducing the taller woman, who folded her hands to greet them, "and this is Krishna Shridhar," introducing the smiling woman, who did the same. "They have been looking for Mandar Deshmukh."
"My name is Mandar Deshmukh? Not Rajiv Dev?" He folded his hands to both of them, but he was looking at Pallavi. She was an attractive woman, but as she walked up to him, he didn't feel the spark that he had expected, nor when she took his hand and led him to a seat, nor when she sat down beside him.
"Yes," Pallavi took out her mobile phone and began to show him photographs. "Mandar, tumhī gharī Marāṭhī bolatā." You speak Marathi at home. "Your Bābā, Vijay Deshmukh, came to Hyderabad from Kolhapur about forty years ago to train as a weaver, and now he is recognized as an expert in traditional sarees. Here's Bābā's photo; do you recognize him?"
Mandar shook his head; he wouldn't have known that the man with the beaming smile was his father if Pallavi hadn't told him. And even Pallavi - who was she? Why didn't her voice seem familiar to him? A thought came to him out of nowhere, "Kartavya pāḷaṇārā māṇūsa āyuṣyāta sukhī hoto." A person who fulfils expectations finds happiness in life. Had his father said that to him?
"This is Deshmukh Saree Emporium, Bābā's business. You grew up helping him." Mandar stared at the photos of the shop. Pallavi was in some of them, and Krishna was in others, smiling as they displayed colourful sarees for customers. "Pratyeka gharātalyā Lakṣmīlā sazavaṇaṃ hā āpalā dharma āhe." To beautify the lady Lakṣmī of every home is our dharma. Whose words was he remembering?
"This is your Āī's photo. Her name is Sharada Deshmukh." Mandar caught his breath. This was his Āī smiling at him. "Ānandācyā āṇi saṃkaṭācyā veḷī āpalī māṇasaṃ āṭhavatāta." At moments of joy and calamity, we remember our own people - that was the thought that sprang to his mind. How could he not remember his own Āī's face?
"This is your little brother Nikhil." Pallavi showed him a photo of a shyly smiling young man, maybe no more than eighteen years old. Mandar didn't recognize him either.
"Is this a recent photo?" he asked Pallavi. "I remember nothing before 2nd December, 2018. Did my brother look much younger than this when I last saw him?"
The look of concern on Pallavi's face gave way to a smile as she had an idea.
Raghav Rao arrived at the open door of Dr. Ramya's office just in time to catch Pallavi smiling at Mandar. He froze, unwilling to step into the room. Of course, Pallavi had told Raghav over the phone that she would be meeting Mandar at the clinic; and yesterday Pallavi had told Raghav she was sure that she saw Mandar from the window of Raghav's hospital room, and that it was Mandar who got into the ambulance together with Vishnu from Vikarabad. Raghav himself had always believed that Rajiv, the hit-and-run victim that he had taken to the hospital, had survived, and as soon as Raghav had found out that Rajiv was Mandar, he had suspected that Mandar might be alive somewhere. Yet now, seeing Pallavi and Mandar together, Raghav was struck by the thought that it was Mandar's company that made Pallavi happy - not merely the good news that Mandar was alive. Pallavi's smile always brightened Raghav's sight, but this time, the thought that she was smiling for Mandar made him close his eyes.
Raghav felt an arm around his shoulders. "Maybe you don't want to look at Pallavi, but I still do." Raghav's eyes flew open. Who dared to talk about Pallavi that way?
It was his own voice, and behind him was his own face, but cheerful and wearing vibhūti instead of a head bandage. Yes, it was Luṅgīvālā Raghav - the facet of Raghav's personality that constantly thought about Pallavi.
"Here, look at this album," Pallavi was saying. "It's all from 1st December, 2018. This photo is of you and Nikhil. He was only fifteen then."
Raghav's eyes filled with tears when he heard the date; he couldn't help it. Pallavi still kept a photo album in her phone from her wedding to Mandar!
Luṅgīvālā Raghav squeezed Raghav's shoulder sympathetically. "Of course Pallavi loves that photo album. It celebrates her becoming part of the Deshmukh family. Why let it bother you? You should ask Pallavi to let you look at the album with her. Let her know that her past is precious to you too; you just want to make her happier."
Raghav tried to grab Luṅgīvālā Raghav by the neck, but missed, as his alter ego dodged. Raghav chased Luṅgīvālā Raghav down the hallway of the clinic, cornered him, and hissed, "Her precious past is sitting right there next to her, reliving their wedding day, while you simp for her! Her husband is alive; that's her return ticket into her happy family. Who's Raghav Rao? Nobody!"
Luṅgīvālā Raghav sighed and gave Raghav a sympathetic smile. They walked back up the hallway together.
Mandar noticed that he and Nikhil were dressed up in the photo. He began to scroll through the photos in that album, and saw himself and Pallavi performing wedding rituals. "Āpalaṃ lagna zhālaṃ āhe, Pallavi? Tū mājhī patnī āhesa?" he asked: We are married, Pallavi? You are my wife?
Vishnu looked at Dr. Ramya, and she nodded to confirm that Pallavi was the key to Raja's - Mandar's progress in conversion therapy.
Raghav and Luṅgīvālā Raghav were back at the door in time to hear Pallavi's reply. "Ho, Mandar, āpalaṃ lagna zhālaṃ tyāça rātrī tumhī kuṭhalyātarī kāmāsāṭhī gharābāhera gelāta; tevaḍhyāta Sunny Ahuja nāṃvāçā eka māṇūsa dārū pīūna besāvadhapaṇe gāḍī çālavata tumacyā vāṭeta ālā, āṇi tyāne tumaçā apaghāta kelā. Sunny āṇi tyācyā gāḍītalī tyācī maitrīṇa Kirti na thāmbatā nighūna gele, tarī sudaivāne Raghav Rao tithe hotā āṇi tyāne tumhālā rugṇālayāta nelaṃ. Tumaçaṃ nāṃva māhīta nasalyāmuḷe tyāne Rajiv he nāṃva nondavalaṃ. Pahāṭe rugṇālayātūna niropa Raghav-kaḍe poçalā kī tumacyā kuṭumbātale kuṇītarī tumhālā gheūna gharī gele. Āmhālā mātra tumacyā paristhitīcī kāhīça māhitī miḷālī navhatī. Tumacī sākharapuḍyātalī aṅgaṭhī nakaḷata Raghav-barobara rāhilī hotī. Yogāyogāne tīna mahinyāṃpūrvī māzhaṃ dusaraṃ lagna Raghav-barobara zhālaṃ, āṇi tyācyākaḍacī hī aṅgaṭhī malā sāṃpaḍalyāvara tumacyā apaghātācyā goṣṭīçā ulagaḍā zhālā."
Pallavi was saying, Yes, Mandar, we were married, and that same night, you went out of the house for some errand. Someone named Sunny Ahuja was drunk and inattentively drove his car into your path, causing your accident. Sunny and his friend Kirti, who was in his car, took off without stopping, but fortunately Raghav Rao was there and he took you to the hospital. He didn't know your name, so he had you admitted under the name of Rajiv. At dawn, a message from the hospital reached Raghav that someone from your family had taken you home. In fact, we had received no news of your situation at all. Your engagement ring had remained with Raghav by mistake. Coincidentally, three months ago I got married again to Raghav, and after I found this ring that he had kept, the story of your accident got sorted out.
Raghav did not understand even one sentence; he only knew that Pallavi was speaking softly and very seriously in Marathi, a language that she and Mandar understood, and Raghav did not. Mandar was gazing steadily at Pallavi's face as she spoke, as if Pallavi's every word was precious. At one point, Mandar dropped his eyes and bowed his head, and Pallavi soon stopped talking. Raghav saw a tender expression in Pallavi's eyes.
Then Pallavi took out a gold ring with the signet M, inscribed inside with the wedding date. She said, "Mandar, hī aṅgaṭhī mājhyā Dādāne tumacyāsāṭhī kelī hotī, tī tumhālā parata karate." Mandar, my Dādā had this ring made for you, and I'm returning it to you.
Luṅgīvālā Raghav elbowed Raghav in the ribs. "You have to get in there right now! Or do you want Pallavi to put a ring on Mandar's finger? You just hold your head high and march up to her, and remember, no one else matters, because you are Raghav Rao!"
Raghav stepped into the office and Pallavi looked up in surprise. "Raghav, you came all this way? Tell me you didn't drive!"
"I didn't; Farhad drove me. He's refilling the tank."
"You're Raghav?" Mandar stood up and folded his hands. He noticed that Raghav's face was handsome but frowning; he was wearing a red suit and jacket with his shirt unbuttoned halfway, and there was stubble on his shaved chest. Clearly this man dressed to be admired. "Pallavi said, you took me to the hospital after my accident. I owe you."
Raghav wanted to punch Mandar and tell him, "Stay away from my wife!" He wanted to snatch that ring from Pallavi and throw it away, grab her by the hand and tell her, "I love you! Stay with me!" as if no one else in the room mattered. He wanted to shower Pallavi with expensive gifts, day after day - that would put middle-class Mandar in his place.
"I wouldn't take that chance." Luṅgīvālā Raghav spoke, sitting on Dr. Ramya's desk, swinging his legs. "Look at Mandar's muscles - he could take you in a fight, and impress Pallavi too. We don't want that. You have to tell Pallavi that you love her, but if she doesn't say it back when you propose in front of Mandar, he'll know right away that she's available. And you know it hurts Pallavi when you throw money at her."
Pallavi was looking at Raghav expectantly, and thinking, you're a compassionate man, Raghav, so please show that compassion to Mandar right now. I know you want our marriage to be real, but what can I do, when your inconsiderate behaviour is the reason that I'm not ready to trust you? Mandar being alive makes you feel insecure, and me too, but we can't talk about that in front of him. Let's just take him home to his family first.
It did not occur to Pallavi that Raghav didn't know that she had told Mandar in Marathi that she was now married to Raghav. As far as Raghav knew, Mandar expected Pallavi in his home, and Pallavi was about to renew their commitment with that ring.
When Raghav looked away without acknowledging Mandar, Pallavi spoke on Raghav's behalf: "Mandar, you also saved Raghav's life when you drove me all the way to Hyderabad at night so that Raghav received his blood transfusion on time. So, he owes you too."
Raghav scowled. Mandar saving his life didn't mean that he would step back and let Mandar take Pallavi from him. Not a chance! Raghav Rao lived to make and spend money; he could buy his way out of any sense of obligation, even for his life, and he felt no compunction about hurting someone whom he had rescued, or who had rescued him. Right now, Raghav wanted Pallavi, and if she belonged to Mandar, he was sure that Mandar had his price. Everyone had a price.
"Does Raghav Rao still think like that?" Luṅgīvālā Raghav asked. "What about the person whose blood donation saved Amma's life? Can you name that person's price? Would you ever hurt that person?"
"What does that blood donation have to do with Mandar?" Raghav was so annoyed that he spoke aloud. Luṅgīvālā Raghav had dredged up one of three memories that could bring on Raghav's claustrophobic panic attacks: the first memory was not having the money to save his Nānna and his little brother Arjun from the riot that killed them; the second memory was being helpless to save Amma's life because he had angrily broken the bag of donated blood; the third memory was slandering Pallavi to her father-in-law until he stopped believing in her.
"Raghav? Are you feeling all right?" Pallavi wondered if Raghav wasn't deliberately ignoring Mandar; was he perhaps disoriented due to some medication that he had been given at the hospital after his head injury? When Raghav had woken up yesterday, he had been so loquacious, saying that he was sorry, he shouldn't have pretended not to recognize Pallavi, he shouldn't have made the doctor give him the injection ... he must have had quite the vivid dream! Pallavi had been about to say, "I love to write down my dreams; Manasi and I used to read our dreams to each other and laugh." She had never finished her sentence because she had looked out of the hospital window and seen Mandar.
Raghav looked at Pallavi with wild eyes. He was hyperventilating at the thought of losing Pallavi to Mandar; it would be his punishment for isolating Pallavi away from her family; he hadn't kept his promise at the mazar, that he would spend his life rescuing the person whose blood donation saved Amma's life, and his punishment was that his promise to give Pallavi her rights as his wife would go unfulfilled. Raghav was perspiring at the thought that he would never make love to Pallavi; it was Mandar who had faithfully driven Pallavi to her destination through the night; Mandar whose finger would wear Pallavi's ring; Mandar whose wedding photos Pallavi treasured, while there was not one wedding photo with Raghav that Pallavi wanted to see ever again.
Raghav reached out for the nearest person's arm to steady himself, but that arm belonged to Luṅgīvālā Raghav, so Raghav found himself slamming into Dr. Ramya's desk. Mandar grabbed Raghav by the shoulders, and eased him onto the floor, supporting his head on his lap.
Farhad, who had just come in to say that the car was ready to take them back to Hyderabad, saw Raghav Anna falling, and rushed to him. Farhad reached to unbutton Raghav's vest, but Mandar's strong, dependable hands were already there, and Mandar felt Farhad's gentle, sincere hands on his. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment. Farhad instantly knew that Mandar's heart was brave and honourable, and Mandar recognized the loyalty and decency in Farhad's heart.
Chapter Two on page 2
Chapter Three on page 2
Chapter Four on page 3
Chapter Five on page 4
Chapter Six on page 4
Chapter Seven on page 5
Chapter Eight on page 5
Chapter Nine on page 7
Chapter Ten on page 7
Chapter Eleven on page 8
Chapter Twelve on page 8
Chapter Thirteen on page 8
Chapter Fourteen on page 9
Chapter Fifteen on page 10
Chapter Sixteen on page 10
Chapter Seventeen on page 11
Chapter Eighteen on page 11
Chapter Nineteen on page 11
Chapter Twenty on page 11
Chapter Twenty-One on page 11
Chapter Twenty-Two on page 12
Chapter Twenty-Three on page 12
Chapter Twenty-Four on page 12
Chapter Twenty-Five on page 12
Chapter Twenty-Six on page 13
Chapter Twenty-Seven on page 14
Chapter Twenty-Eight on page 14
Chapter Twenty-Nine on page 14
Chapter Thirty on page 14
Chapter Thirty-One on page 14
Chapter Thirty-Two on page 14
Chapter Thirty-Three on page 15
Chapter Thirty-Four on page 15
Chapter Thirty-Five on page 15
Chapter Thirty-Six on page 15
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