At least, he consoled himself as he bade farewell to the two STF men, the new year would start on a positive note.
All they had to do was find out what had happened in Allahabad to make the two men flee to Delhi and assume false identities. They had not wanted to be traced. They had wanted to disappear.
Why?
This was bigger than it appeared. Kapoor could feel it in his bones.
And what was the nature of Vishwaraj’s involvement in all this?
He was determined to find out.
Chapter Seventy-four
Arjun Broods
The Gurukul
Panna National Park
The last day of the year was a quiet affair. There were no celebrations or parties; nothing of the sort that Arjun was accustomed to in Delhi, where 31 December was a rambunctious affair, with the city lit up and crackers being burst to mark the start of the new year.
At the Gurukul, it was much more sedate. For one thing, the calendar that celebrated the end of the year was Western: the Gregorian calendar, introduced by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582 as a reform of the Julian calendar introduced by Julius Caesar in 46 BC, which in turn was based on the Egyptian solar calendar.
The Gurukul, on the other hand, followed the lunar calendar, and, in the tradition of diversity and inclusiveness that it had maintained for the last 5,000 years, it commemorated the New Year several times, in keeping with the differing traditions in different parts of the country.
The students at the Gurukul knew exactly why New Year’s Eve had no special significance. Simply put, there was nothing remarkable about the date itself. All that it marked was the return of the earth, after one complete revolution around the sun, to the point where it had started from. And that starting point could be any point along the orbit of the earth around the sun.
What really mattered was the time when one yuga transitioned into another, because these transitions had a material and very real impact on the lives of people.
In any case, Arjun was not in the mood for any kind of celebration. It was more than a month and a half since his mother had left with the other Mahamatis for the Gandharva valley. In the intervening period, there had been no word from Gandharva-lok about the team or the progress of its mission. Neither was there any indication of when they would return.
Arjun knew that, in the Gandharva world, less than ten days had passed, so there was nothing to worry about. Ten days were hardly enough time for the prophecy to be found, considering it had been hidden away 5,000 years ago, with no clues to its location.
But he could not erase the worry from his mind.
He walked aimlessly in the forest surrounding the Gurukul, away from the dorms and the cottages where the Mahamatis resided, trying to find solace in the company of the grazing deer and his isolation from everyone else.
‘Hi Arjun.’ A soft voice intruded on his thoughts.
He whirled around, caught by surprise.
It was Adira.
Chapter Seventy-five
Farewell
The Gurukul
‘Um …’ Adira sounded tentative. ‘Am I disturbing you? You seemed to be lost in thought.’
Arjun laughed, then immediately regretted it. It had sounded forced. It was forced. He was trying to hide his anxiety for his mother and act as if nothing was the matter.
‘I was thinking about Mom,’ he admitted, deciding to be honest. There was no point in pretending.
There was an awkward silence as Adira realised what Arjun meant.
‘Did you want something?’ Arjun could have kicked himself. Was this anything to say?
He was acutely aware that this was the first time he and Adira were having a conversation by themselves. Every time he had interacted with her, it was as part of the Saptas.
‘Well,’ Adira hesitated, sounding as unsure as Arjun was. ‘I guess I just came to say goodbye.’
Arjun nodded, not knowing how to respond. Should he say goodbye? Would that sound too rude? Too abrupt? Too dismissive?
‘Will we ever get the chance to meet again?’ Adira continued, gaining confidence now. ‘I mean, Mumbai and Delhi are so far apart and I don’t think Gana members travel between cities. From what I’ve heard, their activities and responsibilities are restricted to their home cities.’ She sighed. ‘We had such a good time together.’
‘Well, I’m not going to Delhi immediately,’ Arjun responded, and bit his tongue. How did it matter whether he was in Panna or Delhi?
‘I know.’ Adira sighed again. ‘But you’ll go sooner or later. And even Panna isn’t all that close to Mumbai.’
‘We’ll be in touch over WhatsApp,’ Arjun said feebly. ‘And email. And we can always call each other.’ Again, he felt like kicking himself. WhatsApp and email would only be possible when he left the Gurukul for Delhi. Until then, even calling her would be out of the question.
Adira looked at him. ‘You don’t understand, Arjun. Maybe it hasn’t sunk in yet, but the Saptas will never meet again. We may talk and message each other as often as we can, once you’re in Delhi, but we’ll never be together again.’
Arjun was silent. She was right. It hadn’t sunk in yet.
Or, rather, he had not allowed the thought to take hold of him. He was fighting it tooth and nail, refusing to accept the reality of their situation.
‘No,’ he said, his innate stubbornness coming to the fore. ‘We will meet again. I don’t know how or when, but I can feel it in my bones. I just know it. We are the Saptas of the prophecy. And, somehow, somewhere, we will have to meet again if the prophecy is to be fulfilled.’
Adira shrugged, but said nothing. She knew it was futile to argue with Arjun when he was in this mood.
The silence hung heavy over them, only the chirping of birds and the monkeys rustling the leaves in the trees as they swung overhead penetrating its cloak.
Then Adira spoke, hesitantly. ‘I’m going to miss you, Arjun.’
Arjun nodded, unsure once again. ‘Um, yeah, me too.’ Then, worried that his response may not have been adequate, he added, ‘I’ll miss you too.’
‘Goodbye, Arjun.’ Adira smiled wanly at him. ‘Let’s hope you are right about us meeting again. I would really like that to happen.’
She turned and walked away, leaving Arjun with his thoughts.
‘Goodbye, Adira,’ he said.
Why did he feel he had done something wrong?
Chapter Seventy-six
Parting
The Gurukul
The next day dawned cold and grey, the sun hidden behind a thick curtain of fog through which the students wended their way to the Assembly Hall for the morning assembly and prayers.
By the time they finished and emerged from the hall, the fog had dissipated somewhat, but it still clung to the trees as a thin veil, with wisps and tendrils curling around the branches and leaves as though seeking a place to settle down and stay.
The sun was still not visible but a weak brightness permeated the air, somewhat lending the scene an air of gloom and depression.
Which was quite appropriate for the occasion, and her mood, Maya thought glumly as she walked with Arjun and the other students towards the riverside entrance to the Gurukul. For today was the day when the six new members of the Gana would leave the Gurukul forever, and take their place in their home locations.
The entire Gurukul had turned up to see them off.
Last night, Arjun’s Saptas had sat down to dinner together one last time.
It had been quite a lot of fun, actually, now that Maya thought back, and was a memorable one. They had laughed and cracked jokes, and recalled the many awkward moments over the years—the last two-and-a-half months, in the case of Arjun and Maya. By the time they finished, their faces ached from grinning too broadly and their stomachs were hurting from the non-stop laughter.
Maya stood now with Arjun, Agastya and Amyra, at the front of the crowd that had gathered around the six students and the Mahamatis, who were giving th
eir final blessings to the new members of the Gana as they went around, touching the feet of their revered teachers.
Varun spotted Arjun as he finished his round of the Mahamatis and ambled up to him, followed at a distance by Tanveer.
Maya watched Varun walk towards them and remembered her initial meeting with him and the first time she had interacted with him on the night they had entered the Gandharva valley.
He had changed since then. Actually, they had all changed—Tanveer and Adira too. Ever since the episode at Bhimbetka, ten days ago, they seemed to have gained a new confidence, a new spring in their step. They strode rather than walked and their personalities had become more imposing somehow. They appeared to have grown … older. Maya had noticed the change especially in Adira, since she shared a dorm with the Kshatriya.
Maya was also acutely aware of the change wrought in Arjun over the last two and a half months. He was no longer the boy who had entered the Gurukul with her. And, ever since the battle with the vikritis ten days ago, the change had become more pronounced. It wasn’t just that he had grown in confidence. That was only natural, given the intensity of the practice he engaged in at the Gurukul—far more taxing than the regimen he had followed after school in Delhi—as well as the experience of having battled the vikritis and faced imminent death.
He had also grown in stature, Maya thought. Day by day, she had seen him morph from a scared boy into the One who would command the Sangha in the fight against Shukra. Whenever that happened.
Maya wondered if that change had been accompanied by other changes that she was not privy to. In Delhi they had been virtually inseparable, spending most of their free time in each other’s company. At the Gurukul, however, over the last two and a half months, they had barely got a few minutes each day, usually at dinnertime, to catch up and talk.
Varun had reached them by now. He embraced Arjun warmly. Then he stood back, his hands on Arjun’s shoulders—he was a good head taller than Arjun—and looked into the eyes of Yayati’s scion.
‘I guess we won’t see each other for a while,’ Arjun said, a weak smile on his face.
‘You wish,’ Varun retorted. ‘I’ll find a way for us to meet.’
Arjun nodded. ‘You do that. And I will too.’ He looked beyond Varun as if searching for someone.
‘Oh, Adira’s already in the car,’ Varun said, guessing that Arjun was looking for his twin sister. He chuckled. ‘Guess she’s in a hurry to leave the Gurukul!’
‘That’s fine,’ Maya said. ‘We already said our goodbyes yesterday.’ Adira and she had had a tearful farewell conversation last night before Maya left for her nocturnal lessons with Satyavachana.
‘Cool,’ Varun replied immediately. ‘She said goodbye to Arjun too, yesterday.’ He was going to say more but he saw Arjun’s face and thought the better of it.
Maya kept a straight face, but inside, she was laughing. She had been observing Adira for a while and knew exactly what was happening.
Another warm embrace and a firm handshake and Varun moved to Agastya and hugged him as well, bidding him farewell as Tanveer came up to Arjun and embraced him.
‘Farewell, archer,’ Arjun told him. ‘We had some good times together.’
Tanveer, not garrulous at the best of times, simply nodded and compressed his lips firmly. It was the only sign of emotion that he would allow himself.
As the archer walked over to Agastya and embraced him, Varun bade farewell to Amyra and approached Maya.
‘Hey, Maya,’ Varun said tentatively, unsure if he should shake her hand or give her a hug.
‘Hey, Varun.’ Maya noticed his hesitation and decided to resolve his dilemma. She stepped forward and gave him a quick hug, then stepped back.
Varun flushed. ‘Now, you’d better learn everything you can from Maharishi Satyavachana,’ he told her, ‘and graduate to the Gana as soon as you can. Then you’ll be posted to Delhi and we’ll all find a way to be together again.’
Maya smiled at these words and nodded vigorously. ‘I will, Varun. I’ll do my best.’
They both stood for a moment, uncertain what to say or do next.
‘All right then.’ Kanakpratap’s voice cut through the silence. He was driving Tanveer, Sonali and Anisha to Delhi, from where they would take trains to their respective destinations. Varun, Adira and Gopal were being driven by another Mahamati to Gwalior, from where they would catch a train to Mumbai and Chennai respectively.
‘Let’s go,’ Kanakpratap boomed. ‘We have a long way to travel.’
‘Bye, then.’ Varun smiled weakly at Maya.
‘Bye Varun.’
Tanveer came up to her and nodded wordlessly. But Maya could see the unhappiness in his eyes.
They were all going through pangs of separation.
Varun and Tanveer turned and walked away, glancing back only once to wave goodbye to them.
Then, the six children were gone.
Chapter Seventy-seven
Update from Allahabad
Raman Kapoor’s Office
New Delhi
Raman Kapoor listened intently to Ajit as he gave his report over the phone.
Ajit and Harish had arrived in Allahabad five days back to continue the investigation in collaboration with Mirza. They had spent the last couple of days consolidating leads and developing a plan of action. Today, they had begun meeting people and interviewing them.
Ajit had been telling Kapoor about their meetings with the teachers at St. Joseph’s school and with the men in the akharas. Apparently, people had been very forthcoming with information and the investigative team had already begun piecing together a profile of Upadhyay, or Dhruv Srivastava. They had conducted a thorough investigation, talking to all the shopkeepers in the vicinity of the schools, including paanwallahs, who surprisingly were a storehouse of neighbourhood gossip.
‘Hmmm,’ Kapoor said thoughtfully, when Ajit finished his report. ‘Good work, Ajit. Pass on my compliments to Harish, Mirza and Mishra as well.’ He paused to think, then resumed, ‘So something seems to have happened in Allahabad to make both men leave in a hurry. You guys need to find people who were close to both Singh and Upadhyay … I mean Srivastava. I want to know exactly what happened. I want to know everything about them—who they knew, who their friends were, where they went, what they did—all of it. That’s the only way we’ll figure this out.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Ajit replied. ‘We’re on it. The people here are extremely helpful. They are happy to talk. And we’re getting some good leads. Every new person we speak to refers us to someone else, so it’s just a matter of time before we reach someone who was close to the two men and can give us details of what happened to make them leave.’
‘Very good.’
‘And tomorrow, Harish is going to the Lete Hanumanji ka Mandir. Mirza says that’s a place most Allahabadis visit often, and we may get some leads there.’
‘I see.’ Kapoor had a feeling that Ajit was holding something back. ‘Okay, Ajit, what are you not telling me?’
‘Sir,’ Ajit replied hesitantly. ‘I’m operating on a hunch here, so I might be wrong.’
‘A hunch!’ Kapoor snorted. He chuckled to himself. Maybe his modus operandi was rubbing off on his team. ‘Go ahead and tell me. Don’t you know by now? I operate only on hunches.’ He chuckled aloud this time.
‘Well, sir,’ Ajit continued bravely, ‘I think our elusive suspect from Delhi is also in Allahabad. Or, at least, he was here.’
Kapoor sat bolt upright. ‘Our suspect? The guy with the eyepatch?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And why do you think that?’ Kapoor frowned.
‘Well … er …’ Ajit fumbled, unsure now.
‘Go ahead,’ Kapoor pushed him. ‘I’m listening.’
‘Well, sir, some of the people we spoke to—the teachers, especially, told us that a news reporter had spoken to them just a few days back, asking questions about Dhruv Srivastava.’
‘What? Another man enquiring
about Dhruv Srivastava? That is quite a coincidence … So you asked them to describe him.’
‘I did, sir. And they all described him as tall, well built, with an eyepatch over his right eye.’
Kapoor fell silent.
‘Sir?’
Yes, yes. I was thinking. So here’s what we’ll do. I’ll send you the portrait that the police artist made on the basis of your description of the guy. Make copies, distribute them to everyone on the team and, whenever anyone mentions the guy with the eyepatch, show them the portrait. Get a positive identification.’
‘Yes, sir. Maybe we can nail this guy in Allahabad itself.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure,’ Kapoor told him. ‘This man has managed to disappear and cover his tracks for almost three months. It’s going to be difficult. But we have to try.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Great. Good job once again. Keep me posted if anything turns up.’
Kapoor signed off and sat looking into the distance.
Finally!
Finally, this case was beginning to yield clues that led somewhere. He had been right all along about Allahabad. It was the epicentre. Not just fifteen years ago, but even today. The fact that they may have found their suspect in the mysterious news reporter who was going around asking questions only reinforced his belief.
What had brought the man back to Allahabad?
And why was he snooping around asking questions about Dhruv Srivastava?
Chapter Seventy-eight
The Boatman
Lete Hanumanji ka Mandir
Allahabad
While Harish went inside the temple to try his luck, Mirza strolled along the banks of the Ganga nearby. He had contacted someone from the boat union, to whom he had given copies of the two photographs the previous day.
His mobile phone rang. It was the man from the union. He listened for a few moments, then said, ‘Fine. I’ll look for him.’
He pocketed the phone, a smile of satisfaction on his face. They were making progress. The boat union official had shown the photographs to the boatmen who moored there and one of them had recognised the photograph of Srivastava.
The Mists of Brahma Page 19
