Prithvi strolled towards Ayodhya at a leisurely pace. He usually took these walks alone. This morning, however, a thumping pain in the chest and back had offered great company from the time he’d helped the labourer.

The day had started on a good note with him waking up in a trash-free house. Apparently, at daybreak, Anika had stated her intention to depart, and had compelled Rohit also to leave immediately.

No complaints there. He was only glad he hadn’t been forced to endure a goodbye scene with the female parasite. And Rohit had left a note saying he’d try to make another visit before returning home. Now the sole irritants were Mochi and Sumer Singh’s worried expressions while they fussed over Nandini’s feelings.

As he pushed open the gate to Ayodhya, Prithvi satirically looked at the neighbouring house.

He had absolutely no intention of approaching her with any justification. She would calm down once she understood the irrelevance of the episode. It would take a day or two at the most for her to quietly return to him.

As something white caught his eye, Prithvi stopped near the steps of the house. He looked at the adjoining courtyard with mild interest. A small but complex pattern was sketched in Vrindavan’s yard, unquestionably made by her.

He would have liked to see her making it.  He could have ragged and riled her into making a mess of it, Prithvi regretted.

A booming voice, cribbing vociferously about malicious gossip, emerged from the living room of his house.

Prithvi grinned.

Fate had thoughtfully arranged an alternate source of entertainment…

*************************

“Four neighbours hounded me yesterday evening! And I had to listen to more silly people in the morning,” Bhoothnath railed indignantly.

“Yes, yes. I’ll get more tea and sweets for you.” Sumer Singh quickly rose to his feet, lifting an empty plate that lay next to the fruit platter. He would loiter in the kitchen for some time until the topic changed.

Before Prithvi had returned, he had offered Bhoothnath a list of distorted truths to defend the prince. He’d explained that Anika was Prithvi’s acquaintance, and the kiss was purely her way of greeting him, and that her ultra-modern upbringing was to be blamed. Bhoothnath, who was already disinclined to believe the gossipmongers, had eagerly accepted Sumer Singh’s explanation. And later, Prithvi’s arrival had infused more enthusiasm into the old man’s condemnation of outsiders. And having easily caught the drift of the preceding conversation, Prithvi had dutifully taken a seat in the room, somehow successfully conveying an impression of offended virtuousness.  

As he placed a pan of water on the gas, Sumer Singh heard Bhoothnath grumpily say, “I don’t understand what joy people find in spreading slanderous tales about blameless young men.”

Reclining in an easy chair near Bhoothnath, Prithvi righteously said, “You mustn’t criticize them. They told you what they saw or heard from other eyewitnesses. I just wish I had a chance to explain the truth to them. Not that I can reveal the whole truth to anyone, not even Baba. Who will believe me except you?” he muttered heavily.

“The whole truth? What do you mean?” Bhoothnath asked anxiously.

Prithvi leaned forward solemnly. “She didn’t behave like a tramp because of her background or rearing. She was possessed,” he whispered.

“Possessed?” Bhoothnath gasped

 “Yes,” Prithvi sighed impressively. “At first, I thought it was an illness that made her jump on men. But because of the many, many unbearab – I mean, fascinating ghost stories that you’ve generously shared with me, I understood that it was the workings of a demon that fed on the life-force of decent, honourable men,” he revealed in a hushed tone.

“That is one of the most dangerous kinds!” Bhoothnath exclaimed.

“Rohit didn’t know about it. He wears a talisman for general protection, and that acted like a shield. I had one of your sacred threads. So I was fine as well,” Prithvi said gratefully. “I had a tough time keeping the others safe from her. That’s why I didn’t ask her to stay at your house. I had to protect you from her. I wasn’t sure if you would have time for combat preparations if you had returned last night,” He fell silent, and then intently asked, “Do you lock the door to your bedroom at night?”

“No, I don’t,” Bhoothnath said fearfully.

 “That was what I feared,” Prithvi nodded sagely. “You had a narrow escape. Two kisses, and your supernatural powers would have disappeared.”

Bhoothnath shuddered, and fervently said, “You’re a blessing to my family. What would we do without you! But that poor girl…I wish I could have helped her. If she returns some day, I could try and exorcise the lustful spirit out of her,” he said with rousing professional zeal.

“And put it in your granddaughter,” Prithvi encouraged enthusiastically under his breath.

Sidetracked from his victory-filled dreams, Bhoothnath quizzically asked, “Put it where?”

Prithvi swiftly picked up the platter and offered it to the guest.

“Fruits?” he asked solicitously.  

***************************

Sumer Singh’s legs wouldn’t stop twitching nervously as he conversed with Bhoothnath about random things. His limbs were doubtless preparing to scoot at the first sign of trouble.

Bhoothnath had invited them for evening tea and snacks. Before Sumer Singh could think of an objection, Prithvi had accepted the invitation. It had surprised Sumer Singh, until he’d seen the devilish grin on the young man’s face.

Sarojiniji was clearing the table, while assuring Bhoothnath that her daughter would return any minute. The person responsible for the tensions, however, was completely at ease and unperturbed.

At his side, Prithvi was contently talking to Prakash in a very serious voice, narrating the “actual” incident that had led to his hospitalisation. The innocent little boy, who was seated at his idol’s feet, was sitting listening with rapt attention to Prithvi’s straight-faced and exceptionally modest revelations of how the latter had coolly faced multiple assassins, evaded and destroyed killer helicopters, effortlessly defused dangerous explosives and emerged from the battle with merely a few scratches. The hospital stay had apparently been completely unnecessary.

The solemn recitation and brilliance of the plot would have absorbed Sumer Singh too, if he wasn’t on guard for Nandini’s entrance and for the flare-up that was inevitable.

“How did you do all that at the same time!” Prakash’s thrilled exclamation rang out in the room.

“It was very easy,” Prithvi admitted with great humility. “You just need to know how to multitask.”

“Can I tell my friends the story?” Prakash asked eagerly.

 “Sure, but don’t exaggerate,” Prithvi said gravely.

Prakash swore he would stick to the facts. Then he got up and flopped into a chair, plainly in an entranced bubble, constructing the action-packed story in his mind.

“Have you’ll been here for long, uncle?” a soft female voice enquired.

Prithvi glanced at the door. A girl was walking into the room, a bag on her shoulder.

Nandini was grinning at Sumer Singh. Then her beautiful eyes moved onto him.

She smiled.

It was a perfectly friendly smile. Hence, there was no reason it should have startled him….or made him wish she had thrown a knife at him instead.

“About half an hour,” Sumer Singh replied happily, feeling elated. Nandini had smiled at Prithvi, indicating that she had forgiven and forgotten. He looked cheerfully at Prithvi, fully expecting to see triumph, even smugness. To his consternation, however, there was a small, troubled frown on Prithvi’s face.

It was baffling. Until this moment, Prithvi had displayed absolute disregard for the enormity of the problem. Yet, now that Nandini was showing a noble willingness to overlook her hurt, he was actually looking slightly worried.

Sumer Singh shrugged internally. He was not going to let bewilderment mar his newfound relief. Nandini was a simple, straightforward girl. Her emotions always showed on her cute face. She had smiled at Prithvi. That was enough proof as far as he was concerned.

“I have to go out again,” Nandini apologised courteously, keeping her bag on the table. “Aarti di wants me to accompany her to the beauty parlour.”

“Go ahead and have fun,” Sumer Singh said warmly.

“Those people are troubling you too much, Nandini,” Bhoothnath said crossly.

“They’re not. I’m enjoying myself,” Nandini laughed as she went into the kitchen. She drank a glass of water, informed her mother about the parlour visit and left home again, vindictively overlooking a highly uncertain gaze on her way out. She put on her slippers and sped to the gate.

“You’ve decided the time of my death, haven’t you?”

At the wary question, Nandini turned around to see a disconcerted Prithvi on the steps.

“Why would I?” she asked with wide eyes. “It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong,” she said earnestly, fluttering her eyelashes. She bestowed another dazzling smile on him and spun back towards the gate.

Prithvi’s jawline clenched as the confusion cleared.

She intended to ‘penalize’ him by keeping a polite distance until he caved in and apologised for something that was not his mistake. She’d made one mistake though. She’d overestimated her importance in his everyday life.

It meant zilch to him if she planned to treat him like a random acquaintance. She could drag the ludicrous charade for months if she wished. She was the one who would be affected. And if anything was certain, it was that she would break long before he did.

************************

The scrawny security guard observed in bafflement as the bank’s manager hemmed and hawed by the side of an indifferent young man while escorting him to the door. The manager opened the door himself for the tangibly affluent man, who strode out without a word of thanks.

Prithvi walked along the busy pavement towards the bike parked by the side of the road. The fresh air was restful after an hour spent in the stifling confines of the moron-infested branch of the allegedly efficient bank.

He had reached the bike when the glimpse of a slender figure made him halt abruptly.

At some distance to his right, Nandini was weaving a path through the crowd outside a provisions store, closely hugging a large shopping bag.

Anger emblazoned Prithvi’s features.

Eight days. Eight whole days had passed since that short conversation in Vrindavan. They had chanced upon each other on a few occasions since then. Sometimes when she was sitting on the steps of Vrindavan or on the terrace where she’d come to hang clothes for drying, and sometimes on the roads. 

During each meeting, she had been civil and friendly, offering him a radiant smile.

It was an interesting retaliation strategy. And the most maddening one she had devised so far. The gracious demeanour had managed to set his teeth on edge every single time….

Flushed with anger, he began to mount his bike, then stopped again.

It was a hot day, and the bag in her hand had looked heavy.

He irritably glanced at the spot he’d seen her. She had moved in the opposite direction and appeared to be heading towards the bus stop.

************************

As she neared the bus stop, Nandini brushed a handkerchief across her damp forehead. The heat was unbearable. If a bus didn’t arrive within half an hour, she would flag down a rickshaw.

She slowed for a second as a dazzling array of bangles arranged outside a small shop inadvertently caught her eye. She felt briefly tempted to buy bangles for the purple salwar kameez she’d planned to wear for the Mehendi function in the evening. But she already had old bangles of the same colour at home. New ones would be an unnecessary purchase.

Her skin prickled again.

Ignoring the sensation, she continued to stroll unhurriedly. A gravel crunching noise gave her a small warning before a large bike harshly braked to a stop a feet ahead of her.

*************************

Looking straight ahead, Prithvi tersely said, “Get on. I’ll drop you home.”

“No, thank you. I have to buy a few more things,” Nandini declined respectfully and turned to go to the jewellery shop, instantaneously deciding that she couldn’t do without the bangles.

“Yeah sure. Run away, since that’s your biggest talent,” a voice sneered behind her.

Although fury torched her, she succeeded in swivelling with a beatific smile.

“Just like yours is being in denial,” she said kindly, talking like a perfectly cordial stranger. “You have your talents, I have my mine.”

Furious, he stared at her as she began sauntering towards a shop.

He was as angry with himself as he was with her. He’d easily dealt with her ridiculous farce for the past week, he told himself mulishly. Why the **** had he bothered today. If she was idiotic and stubborn enough to travel uncomfortably with that gargantuan bag in this heat, far be it from him to dissuade her.

As if he cared….

He resolutely began to start the bike, then paused.

Damn her.

Scowling, Prithvi yanked the key out of the ignition and disembarked from the bike. Striding past rambling men and women, he caught up with her and stepped into her way.

 “Can’t you say what’s on your mind and be done with it?” he demanded irately.

Nandini opened the bag in her hand and extricated the edge of a purple dress piece.

“I have to find matching bangles for this dress. I’m not sure if the topic has a lot of potential for discussion,” she answered sweetly and turned to enter the shop.

Theoretically, her impudence should have provoked his temper further rather than causing it to subside. Theoretically.

Prithvi gazed after her appreciatively, and then resignedly made his way to the shop.

A middle-aged man was accepting money from a female customer. They both gawked at him.

The most obstinate wildcat in the world, however, was seemingly engrossed in examining the multiple rows of bangles arranged in a glass case on the wall.

Stalking up to her, Prithvi muttered, “Don’t be stupid. Come home with me.”

Not willing to lose a potential customer, the shopkeeper told him, “She’s just about to choose the right bangles. You could help her!”

Nandini looked frostily at the middle-aged man. “I don’t know him,” she said point-blank, jabbing a careless thumb in Prithvi’s direction. “From the time I came to the market, he has been following me and asking me to get into his car.”

The other woman in the shop gasped loudly and tightly wrapped her sari’s pallu around her upper body. Dissatisfied with the precaution, the young married lady hurried out without accepting her change, afraid that the pervert would transfer his lustful attentions to her next. She should have known something was wrong with the young man. Such good looks were bound to hide a beastly nature.

In the hushed environment of the shop, the owner stared unsurely at the aristocratic youth, who was gazing at the beautiful girl with mingled disbelief and amusement.

“I didn’t find the kind of bangles I wanted. Sorry.” Nandini said truthfully, and then coolly turned on her heel and walked out of the shop.

Prithvi grinned at her retreating back.

Sure enough, by the time he’d stepped onto the sunlit pavement, she had hailed a rickshaw and was clambering into it.

He didn’t move to stop her. She would reach home comfortably. That was all he’d wanted in the first place.

Feeling light-hearted and peaceful after an intolerably long gap, he strode to his bike.

************************

Pacing along the boundary of the terrace, Prithvi restlessly looked at the watch on his hand. As if on cue, the door on the other side opened and a girl stepped into the terrace.

Nandini stopped fleetingly as her eyes fell on him. She wanted to smile brightly, as she’d been doing for days. The wrath it unvaryingly provoked on his face miraculously soothed her own festering hostility.

Today, though, her lips refused to comply.

It was different to antagonise him when he looked insufferably arrogant and invincible. By regularly, albeit carefully, prompting her grandfather to make enquiries, she’d kept a close tab on his physical recovery, and knew that the healing was nearly complete. But she’d seen an intense strain in his eyes yesterday, and it had almost been her undoing.

She’d been trying hard to keep mind occupied with all the exciting functions surrounding Aarti’s wedding, which was tonight. Tomorrow onwards, she would have ample time to be miserable.  

Averting her face, Nandini walked to the clothes line and began taking down dried garments with hands that were enveloped in a deep red mehendi design up to the middle of her forearm.  

“Could you grow up and learn to deal with issues like an adult?”

The derisive question made her halt. She turned, and then retreated hastily. When had he come so close…

He was standing with his arms crossed. The sober expression on his face was suitable for a cheerless discussion. And yet, he was making her feel oddly ill-equipped to deal with a conversation.

“There is no issue,” she retorted serenely, concealing her discomfort.

His brows lifted. “Then why have you been acting like a polite block of ice for the past week?”

 “You don’t deserve an explanation any more than I do,” she answered sarcastically, and realised her reply had struck the target by the swift disquiet that flit across his visage. 

Nevertheless, he rallied immediately. “Stop making a big deal of what happened,” he said impatiently.

She stared at him disbelievingly. “If a man from my past emerged out of the blue and kissed me in front of you, would you be okay with it?”

“Totally,” Prithvi affirmed nonchalantly. After I kill him…

Nandini somehow found it in herself to smile instead of attempting murder. “Great, but I’ll need to see your magnanimity for myself,” she said vibrantly. “Until then, you’ll have to put up with my immaturity. If you can’t wait, there is something else you could do.”

“And what is that?” he asked cautiously, alerted by the raging bonfire in her eyes. 

Nandini flung the cloth in her hand back onto the rope, then walked to the corner where terrace cleaning equipment had been kept.

She picked up a large bottle filled with a dark liquid and walked back to Prithvi. Gazing directly into his mystified face, she thrust the bottle into his hands.

“Drink this up. Then we’ll talk,” she said acidly.

After the door had slammed shut behind her seconds later, Prithvi looked amusedly at the fantastic beverage he’d been offered.

A powerful disinfectant.

To destroy the toxins generated by another woman’s kiss. And die in the process if possible.

He laughed.

************************

Sankatmochan leaned over the gate in between Ayodhya and Vrindavan to peer discreetly through the windows of the latter house. He couldn’t see anyone, but he heard loud footsteps and voices as the family members put the finishing touches on their outfits and locked up the doors.

He contently munched at the banana in his hand, making the most of his break from temple duties.

It was a quarter past seven in the evening. The boy’s wedding procession was scheduled to reach the marriage hall at half past nine. The Bharadwaj family intended leave by eight O’clock. He had half an hour to locate Nandini and beg her to persuade Prithvi to attend the wedding.

Sumer Singh had given up after pleading for five consecutive days. The man had even bought a costly, striking kurta for Prithvi in a spurt of hope. 

Sankatmochan hadn’t bothered about the crisis in the beginning. He’d known that it would be a cold day in hell before Prithvi agreed. His friend simply loathed such functions.

But yesterday at the temple, Mr Chawla had made a sincere request for the whole family to be part of the festivities, and Sankatmochan had decided to give it a shot. He wasn’t idiotic to try a direct approach. He was going to egg Nandini on to pull it off. She was the only person in the world who could persuade Prithvi in this matter.

It was probably going to be an uphill battle to convince her for the job though.

Unlike Sumer Singh, he wasn’t determined to shut his eyes and believe that everything was fine. But to be fair, the elderly man was under a lot of tension these days for other reasons; he was in the temple at the moment, indisputably praying for peace. Originally, he’d been afraid that Adityaraj’s friends would call on Prithvi. Then their visit got postponed twice, and Sumer Singh had begun fretting about that too.

Sankatmochan hadn’t made fun of the incongruity. He’d understood the underlying cause of the tension even if Sumer Singh didn’t. For a while, he’d been sensing that an avalanche was in the offing. Too many incidents had taken place within the gap of a month. It was leading up to something. Something that would shake up many lives...especially Prithvi’s…

And therefore, in the meantime, he would make sure that Prithvi’s pig-headedness wouldn’t ruin the peace and happiness that life was offering at present. 

Because while Prithvi could tell himself anything he wanted, the truth was that Nandini’s cheerful courteousness had transformed the already hot-tempered lad into an exceptionally grouchy and aggressive bear in the past few days. But his friend’s disposition had improved mysteriously after returning from the bank yesterday, where he’d gone to resolve some issues in the transfer of funds to the orphanage. And since morning, Prithvi had actually smiled many times.

Put together, it meant the matter was on the verge of getting resolved. In his book, that meant a discreet nudge, or a downright shove, from external forces was called for.

Sankatmochan heard anklets racing through the house, and straightened up. He swallowed the last piece of the banana and threw the peel into a flower pot. Then he opened the gate and limped to Vrindavan’s open entrance, clearing his throat for the impactful speech he’d prepared.

A girl in a rose-pink lehenga was pensively examining three pairs of sandals. A gossamer dupatta was draped gracefully around her, glittering earrings were swaying against her cheeks, and a sparkling necklace and pink bangles completed the effect of an ethereal sheen.

Nandini always looked lovely and adorable. But today…today, she was an enchantress.

If Prithvi saw her at this moment -

Sankatmochan smirked.

Looked like he’d found a solution to some long-term and short-term problems.

***********************

Standing at the doors, Nandini sceptically stared at the anxious fat man oscillating near the Tulsi plant.  “He’s going to pick up choti ma? At this hour? ”

“He is!” Sankatmochan insisted. “He intends to reach there early in the morning and will return with her by tomorrow night. The doctors had said he shouldn’t be making long and hectic journeys for one more week. Both Sumer Singh and I offered to go in his place. But he won’t hear of it. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

Nandini wrung her fingers indecisively. She was suspicious, but Sankatmochan did have a desperate look. “Where is he?”

“In his room.”

“Could you ask him to come downstairs?”

“I don’t dare. He’s been a mess since you and he – I think that’s why he’s going,” he divulged sadly, relying on a good dose of guilt to heighten the chances of success. “To take his mind off the problems.”

Nandini gazed at the shrine. Her grandfather would be busy there for half an hour more, and her mother was on the first floor, engaged in a battle to get Prakash ready before dressing up herself. The Chawlas had requested their family to arrive by half past eight at the venue.

“Just tell him once that he mustn’t go,” Sankatmochan urged.

“What if Ma calls for me?” she asked apprehensively.

“You won’t get into trouble. I promise! I’ll wait here and handle the questions till you return.”

*****************************

She was being weak. Pathetic.

Nandini derided herself as she rushed up the stairs in a mix of anger and worry. 

It wasn’t enough that she had to forget their tiff temporarily. She also had to speak to him and hurry back home within minutes.

She hastened till she reached a room. It was empty. She hesitated fleetingly, then reluctantly stepped inside.

Nandini stared around the room. Everything seemed to be in place. While it was possible Prithvi wasn’t going to carry any bags, she still felt unpleasantly sure that she’d been hoodwinked.

She twirled abruptly.

Prithvi was walking into the room, scanning a sheet of paper. He looked up casually, and then stilled with shock.

As Nandini fidgeted in embarrassment, it became impossible to distinguish the soft rosy tint on her face from the shade of her dress. Prithvi’s amazement on seeing her was genuine, which meant he was not a party to the fake travel plans made by Sankatmochan.

Feeling defensive, she spoke up briskly. “Mochi bhaiya said you were leaving for – aren’t you?” she asked uncertainly.

“Who said - leaving for where?” Prithvi muttered dazedly.

He’d heard a flurry of petite, familiar sounds while going through old books in another room. He had moodily assumed they were the creations of an extremely sadistic imagination, based on some vicious experiences in the previous few months.  

But she was here. In his room. Looking incredibly…indescribably beautiful…

Forgetting her indignation over Sankatmochan’s lie, Nandini tensely retraced a step, her heartbeats accelerating all of a sudden. No…she was getting nervous for no reason, she decided tenaciously. She would stride past him and he would allow her to.

Squaring her shoulders, she walked towards the door.

Prithvi didn’t stir until she was close. Then in a frighteningly lazy movement, he leaned against the doorframe, blocking her exit completely.

As she glared at him, he calmly began making an airplane out of the page in his hand.

Nandini rapidly moved sideways to take advantage of the gap on the other side.  Still concentrating on the aircraft, Prithvi fluidly shifted to lounge casually against this side now.

Infuriated and afraid in equal parts, Nandini backed away as he gave final touches to the plane and then dispatched it into the air, where the paper jet soared stylishly.

 “Move!” she snapped.

He appeared to transfer his interest back to her. “Like hell I will,” he said pleasantly.

“If you don’t give me way, I’ll scream,” she said heatedly.

“Knock yourself out,” Prithvi said unconcernedly, his gaze roaming insolently from the top of her sensationally exquisite head…. to the luscious lips that glistened a natural pink…. to the silken hair caressing her hips…to the tantalising curves and the petite waist….to the tips of her little toes peeping from the hem of the dress. Every inch of her body seemed to be emitting a restrained but simmering sensuality….

Nandini fumed helplessly. She knew a sincere request would have a better chance of persuading him. Yet, for the life of her, she couldn’t utter the word ‘please’.

But she also couldn’t let this nerve-racking standoff continue. The scalding intensity in his dark eyes as they appraised her was starting to make her tremble…

Opting for a middle path, she tried to reduce the antagonism in her tone. “My family is waiting for me downstairs. We have to leave for the wedding,” she said resentfully.

A roguish smile softened his stunning features. “You can go. After you pay the toll,” he murmured.

The mischievous glimmer in his eyes told her exactly what kind of toll was expected. 

 “Like hell I will,” Nandini retorted spitefully, and in a reckless temper, pushed hard at a broad shoulder to make him give way.

In the next instant, both her wrists were caught and twisted behind her back.

In absolute silence, she wildly fought the hard strength of the arms that were holding her captive.

A powerful tug moulded her body tightly to his. Panic made her pause, and she stared up at him agitatedly.

Prithvi gazed intently into the hauntingly lovely face that was emitting hostile sparks at him.

He bent his head slowly. She coldly twisted her face, denying him her lips.

Savage embers ignited in his eyes as he stared grimly at her aloof, exquisite profile. The grip on her wrists constricted cruelly as he lowered his head and callously nipped the vulnerable flesh between her neck and shoulder.

She cried out at the shocking pain.  

Shaking, she looked up at him with venomous fury. He took advantage and instantly fastened his lips on hers.

His lips were crushing hers roughly, extracting bittersweet revenge for the misery she’d inflicted on both of them. Her outrage lasted for a whole minute, and then, her lids shuttered down and she was lost.

Her wrists were in agony, Nandini thought distantly. She had to let him know…she would…after a moment…

But she didn’t protest, and the bruising kiss went on endlessly.

The grip on her hands relaxed unexpectedly. She opened her eyes and stared bemusedly at him as he moved backwards with a puzzled look.

He gently brought her hands to the front. She absentmindedly gazed down at them and drew in a sharp breath.

Her right wrist was bloodied.

Broken bangle pieces had cut into her flesh. A tiny crimson trickle was emerging from a gash and snaking across the dark red design on her hand. It splattered onto the floor.

She glanced at Prithvi with intuitive concern.

He had turned chalk-white, and was staring at her hand in appalled silence, looking sickened.

She wanted to comfort him, but her throat was parched dry. The back of her hand felt damp. She quietly turned over her hand in his loose clasp. A blanket of blood covered her skin and his palm. Yet, no injury was visible on her hand.

Distressed, Nandini examined his hand.

Blood was oozing from a laceration in his skin and dripping to the floor. The pieces that had cut into her flesh had also deeply wounded his palm.

The floor was garnished with many drops of red liquid by now....a macabre brew of the blood seeping sluggishly from both their hands…

*************************