The Banished Secret: Chapter Eight

Aditya sat in a corner, feeling out of place and bored. He and Abhi had arrived at Shyam and Vina’s house at six and had been ushered into this room. It was a large room which was already full of people the same age as Abhi and Aditya had immediately felt out of place. He had found a seat in a corner and Abhi had stayed at his side for a while before Aditya told him to go and have fun. Abhi had resisted before gravitating towards his friends. There were a lot of Aditya’s students among the guests, and they came over to greet him before going back to mingle with their friends. Abhi was dancing with a girl whom he remembered having seen once or twice around the campus. Vina was flirting with one of the boys from their class named Aakash and Shyam was nowhere to be found.

He was wondering if it might be polite to leave and was looking around to see if he can spot Shyam anywhere when a stranger came and sat down on a chair next to him.

“Hi,” said the man. “You are Abhi’s brother, aren’t you?”

Aditya looked at the man. He had never seen him before. He was tall, with a pleasant open face, and pair of very keen eyes.

“Yes,” Aditya said. “But how did you know?”

The stranger chuckled. “Easy to spot the resemblance. I’m Savit, by the way. I’m not from the college, I’m a family friend of Shyam. That’s how I met Abhi.”

Aditya nodded. “Nice to meet you,” he said, before relapsing into silence. What did one say in situations like this? He had never had any skill in making small talk.

“You’re a professor, aren’t you? What do you teach?” Savit asked.

“Economics,” Aditya replied, nearly suppressing a groan. It looked as if Savit wasn’t going to leave soon.

“I’m a total ignoramus where that is concerned,” Savit grinned. “Just scraped through with pass marks in school.”

Aditya smiled faintly, not knowing how to answer or if any answer was expected.

“You’re not drinking,” Savit observed.

“I have to drive home,” Aditya answered.

“Hmm… and your parents are on holiday, I heard.”

“Not exactly. They have gone to visit our grandparents.” Aditya wondered how Savit knew about their parents not being home, but he did not explain that his grandmother was ill and his parents would not be returning in the near future, not till she improved anyway.

“I see,” Savit said, smiling. “Well, nice talking to you, Aditya. Be seeing you around.”

Aditya heaved a sigh of relief as Savit disappeared into the crowd of dancing youngsters. But the sigh turned into a groan as Aakash sat down onto the vacant seat with an ingratiating smile.

"Here you are," an unknown girl with a bright smile grabbed hold of Aakash before he even greeted Aditya. With a muttered apology, Aakash went with the girl.

"Enjoying yourself?" Shyam took the seat.

"Would you feel offended if I say no?" Aditya was tired of trying to make conversations. At least with Shyam, he didn’t have to pretend.

Shyam shrugged. "Not really. Abhi did warn me you were kinda anti-social."

"I'm not, but I'm not comfortable with people I don't know." Aditya was offended. He wasn’t anti-social. He just liked his own company or those of his books more.

“Sounds anti-social to me,” Shyam teased. “If you’re tired of the party, go and have dinner. Buffet is arranged outside. You can go home afterwards."

"Abhi planning to stay here tonight?" Aditya asked.

"I think so. We'll be glad to have you too, you know." Shyam said.

"I think I'll go. I dread having to make small talk to people I don't know." Aditya hadn’t meant to have said it, but he wasn’t regretting having said it either.

Shyam laughed. "Well, Saina saved you from Aakash, didn't she? You didn't have to make any small talk."

"Not with him. But there was no one to save me from that Savit guy."

"Savit?" There was a slight frown on Shyam’s face.

"He said he was a family friend." Aditya said.

"Oh him! Yea. He's a bore. Come to think of it, he wanted to stay the night too. And so did a couple of others." Shyam frowned. "I’m beginning to see that we don’t have enough room. Abhi will need to go home. How am I even going to explain that?"

Aditya chuckled. "How fortunate l did not take you up on your invitation!"

"I'm bad at organizing," Shyam grimaced. "I will probably need to sleep on the couch too. Never mind. You go have your dinner. I shall bring Abhi too."

"He won't be happy," Aditya muttered.

"No, he won't. I'm hoping he'll..." Shyam's brow cleared. "I got it! I'll come with you two. I just need to throw a few things in a bag. How lucky tomorrow is a holiday!"

"What? But it's your birthday! You can't just leave your guests and go like that!"

"Vina will manage them. She owes me one anyway. And mum and dad won't mind too much. You did meet them today, didn't you?"

"Yes, when we came in. Why do you ask as if they’re strangers to me?”

“Just ‘coz they’ll be asking me later if you and Abhi attended. They’re not familiar with most of this crowd, but they know and like the two of you.”

“Well, I haven't seen them since I came in." Aditya couldn’t really make head or tail out of Shyam’s explanation.

"Oh, they'll be around somewhere. They don't enjoy this crowd, but they enjoy parties. I’ll just go and tell them I’m coming with you, and we’ll all have our dinner and we’ll go.”

"Well, if you're sure, you're welcome to come with us." Aditya gave in.

"Thanks big bro." Shyam flashed him a bright smile.

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The Banished Secret: Chapter Seven

Arnava stepped into the room cautiously. He was carrying his bow and arrows, his dagger and his sword. The room was empty. The entire building was deserted as was evident from its dilapidated condition. Yet, he had been told to come here. He pushed open the window, which protested with a creak, but one pane still opened. One of the panes was stuck, and Arnava desisted from using force to open it. The slanting rays of the evening sun filtered in through the half open window. Arnava moved to the other side and pushed aside the moth eaten curtains. The dust made him cough, and he lifted his uttariya to his face to cover his mouth and nose. There was a balcony beyond the door of which had been boarded up.

He was not certain if he did the right thing in coming here. Was it foolish of him to just come here on the basis of an anonymous note? He wondered who had placed the note on his room and why. Why had he been asked to come here? And by whom? There was something fishy about it. The note had burned to ash as soon as he had finished reading, but he still remembered what was written on it. It had directed him to come here at sunset if he wanted to save his brothers and his kingdom from disaster. What disaster? He could not understand, but if any unknown danger threatened his brothers or his kingdom, he could not just ignore it. But seeing the condition of the building, and that there was no one there, he was wondering if he made the right decision. He was glad he was armed.

He heard a noise and whipped around, arrow nocked. A hooded and cloaked figure stood just inside the room. He felt a prickle that might have been fear. He had not heard its approach. It? He did not know why he thought of this person as it, but the person was standing so still, and the faint breeze that came through the window and disturbed the dust and caused Arnava’s uttariya to flutter caused no movement to the man’s robes. The hood and cloak were both black in colour and covered the figure so completely that not even a sliver of flesh was visible anywhere, face, hands, feet all were covered.

"Who are you?" He demanded, not lowering his bow. "Are you the one who asked me to come? How did you get the note to my room? What disaster threatens us?"

"Impatient," the voice sent shivers down his spine. It was like no human voice he'd ever heard; it reminded him of something slithering across the floor. "So impatient you are, yet, some things are revealed only at the appropriate time."

"So, it was you who asked me to come.”

The hooded figure bowed his head in agreement.

“If you don’t intend to tell me anything, why did you ask me to come?"

“To tell you of your purpose,” the voice dropped to a whisper, becoming almost a hiss.

"What purpose?” Arnava asked impatiently. “Who are you to give me orders, or tasks?”

“Who I am is irrelevant, but the task you’ve been set is important. Do not question it! It is the will of the gods!”

“Gods?” Arnava scoffed. “I’m sure there aren’t any who look like you. If you’ve called me just to waste my time, I’ll be leaving.” Arnava half turned to leave, when the figure spoke again, sounding agitated, the inhuman voice becoming grating.

“The usurper you have taken into your midst must be killed! You must kill him! Or he will be the death of you all!"

"What usurper?" Arnava frowned as he turned to face him again.

"The one named Bhaskara! Kill him! Or he will kill you all!"

“What?” Arnava was incensed. “He’s my brother! How dare you!”

“He’s death and destruction! He’s not worthy! He must die!” The figure took a step forward.

Arnava took a step back, and released the arrow, fury coursing through him. The arrow passed through the figure and buried itself on the wall. The hood and cloak crumpled to the floor. There was nothing underneath. He lowered his arm and wiped his brow. His heart was hammering. He had no idea what he just faced, or even what exactly had happened, but he knew he had to get back to the palace before his father or brothers noticed his absence.

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The Banished Secret: Chapter Six

“Hi big bro,” chorused the two in unison as they plopped in front of Aditya. Aditya looked up, somewhat bemused, from the book he was reading. Shyam and Vina gave him identical smiles.

“Big bro?” he asked. “Where did that come from?”

“When we’re in class, we do call you professor,” Shyam replied with a cheeky grin. “But here, I think we should be allowed to call you what we want.”

“Besides,” Vina chipped in, “we’ve known you for far longer before you ever became our professor, and we always called you-”

“Well, we can’t call you that,” Shyam said hastily. “So, big bro it is.”

“I’m not foolish enough to argue with your generation,” Aditya said, his lips quirking in a half smile as he thought of the twins’ nick name for him when they were younger. Big bro was good, at least it wasn’t something to make him cringe.

“Ooh! Gramps!” Vina exclaimed, her eyes alight with laughter.

Shyam and Vina were alike to look at though not exactly identical. Shyam was slightly shorter though that could be because of the inch high heels that Vina wore. He was also stocky with a round face, broad forehead, small eyes and a snub nose. Vina was leaner, and had an oval face, though her eyes and nose were the same. They both also had the same stubborn chin and thin lips, though Vina’s clever application of lipstick made hers look fuller.

“Ha ha,” Aditya said in a bored voice. “So, why have the terrible twins chosen to honour me with a visit?”

“To invite you to our birthday party,” Shyam replied. “Coming Sunday, evening 6, our place.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” pointed out Aditya.

“Yea, we know. That’s why we’re inviting you today,” Vina grinned.

“Afterthought? I should be flattered.” Aditya said drily.

“Come on, big bro,” Vina pouted. “Don’t be like that. You don’t have to bring anything. Just come.”

Aditya sighed. He hated parties. He hated crowds. He preferred books to people. But there was no getting out of this one. He had known them since they were children, had visited their home and they had visited his, their parents knew each other, not to speak of the bond Abhi had with them.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll definitely come.”

“No gifts,” Vina said, rising. “And if you really want to bring anything, I’m not at all choosy, anything would be fine.”

“I’m picky,” Shyam said. “Just reminding,”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Aditya replied.

He watched as they walked away and shook his head, looking regretfully at the half finished book on the table. The cafeteria at the college was always deserted at this time since classes for the day were over. Aditya always stayed an hour or so after hours in the cafeteria reading unless he had grading to do. He did most of his grading in the staff room after hours, but he also took assignments and papers home for the weekend. He glanced at the watch. It was barely thirty minutes after classes had ended, but if he was to go shopping for gifts, there was no way for him to finish his book today.

While Aditya went shopping, Shyam didn’t waste any time in calling Abhi and telling him about inviting Aditya to the party.

"You what?" Abhi was surprised.

"Invited your brother for our birthday, so be sure to bring him when you come."

Abhi looked at the phone, wondering if Shyam was pulling his leg. "I was planning to come over early, and help you with all the arrangements."

"Nah, you relax, we have it all under control. You be on time with our professor Aditya." Shyam sounded amused.

"Is this some underhanded trick to get on his good side to improve your grades? If so, I must warn you that you're wasting your time."

Shyam laughed. "Don't impute underhanded tricks, Abhi. Not to your best buddies anyway. Would we do something like that?"

"Without any shame and without any doubt," Abhi snorted.

"This is just an attempt to have a social contact with your brother." Shyam said in an injured tone.

“Yeah, right.” Abhi scoffed.

“I’m serious.” Shyam sounded offended now.

"My brother hates social occasions. Just thought I'd let you know." Abhi said, grimacing a bit as he thought of how much Aditya was going to hate this.

"Why the hell did he become a teacher, then? Not that he's bad at it, but it's hardly the kind of job for an introvert." Shyam sounded surprised.

"Why don't you ask him?" Abhi asked. “I don’t know how you couldn’t know when you’ve known him as long as you have.”

“Well, I wasn’t, I mean, we weren’t the most observant of children and once we grew older, he was so- grown up, you know, and it’s not as if we ever hanged out with him.”

“Fair enough,” Abhi said, sighing. “He’s going to hate this, is all I’m saying.”

Shyam chuckled. "Sounds like you didn't like us inviting him."

Abhi sighed. "It's not that. It’s just that Aditya is really, really, uncomfortable in social gatherings. He avoids them like the plague. I know the kind of games you guys get up on your birthday. I don't want Aditya embarrassed." Abhi could never explain how protective he was of his elder brother who was a full ten years older than him.

"Oh," Shyam said. "Point noted and taken. Don't worry. We'll see to it that your brother has a good time and nothing else."

"Where's Vina?" Abhi asked, changing the subject. It was pointless expecting Shyam to fully understand. He’d just have to keep an eye on Aditya.

"Gone to invite boyfriend number-I don't know, what is the number right now?"

Abhi laughed. "You're asking me? She's your sister!"

"Yea, and I do have better things to do than count the number of boyfriends she's had till date." Abhi could hear Shyam’s eye roll and he chuckled again.

"She does run through them, doesn't she?"

"Yes, and she's quite happy doing it. As long as that remains, I don't care. Bye for now, Abhi. I need to make a few other calls."

"Bye," Abhi said as he hung up.

The Banished Secret: Chapter Five

“You failed.” the voice was dispassionate, the face expressionless. The man swallowed. Somehow the very indifference of the being that confronted him was more frightening than anger or recriminations. He knew that failure would not be acceptable, but he had not expected this level of judgement. He could feel sweat beading his brows, and much as he would have liked to wipe it off, he knew that to show any sign of weakness would be a mistake.

“The assassins I hired could not do the job,” he conceded. “For obvious reasons, I cannot show my hand openly. I have to put on a neutral facade at the least.”

“That is understood.” The creature answered, its voice a susurration that sent shivers down his spine. “But that does not explain the reason for your failure. You know as well as I that he cannot be killed by any ordinary assassin, not when he has his – protection.”

“I know. I just thought...” he could feel sweat trickling down his face and body. “I don’t see how he can be killed at all if that enchantment is as strong as you say.”

“The enchantment can be weakened and destroyed, but it requires strong counter enchantments, but even they won’t be effective unless he is struck by someone who shares his bloodline.”

“One of his brothers, then.”

“Yes. Now, you understand. They must be turned against him. That is your task. As you say, you cannot show your hand openly, but they know and trust you. Poison their minds against him. Slowly… slowly… just change them… and they will destroy him.” The voice had dropped into a whisper, almost hypnotic and he felt drawn into it, and nodded his head before shaking it violently. He couldn’t fall under its spell. He had to ally himself with it, but that was out of necessity. His agenda was different.

“Even if somehow I turn one of them against him, there’s still the fact that he’s a very skilled warrior. They call Arnava the best, but he’s no match for Bhaskara.” He pointed out. He had seen Bhaskara fight, and he had seen Arnava fight, and he had no doubt that in a battle between the two, Bhaskara would always prevail.

“Are you here only to create objections?” the voice came out in a growl, and the man felt a prickle of fear, but he refused to be cowed.

“I was just pointing out the obvious,” he said.

“Don’t worry about that,” The creature said. “The enchantment needed his mother’s life force to cast. To weaken it would require the life force of its subject.”

“You mean, the spell to weaken it will weaken him.” he guessed.

“Yes. But even then, only someone who shares his bloodline can strike the killing blow. Nothing else will suffice.”

“I see,” he paused.”I see my task. It is not easy, but it can be done. We need turn only one against him, and one is already against him. I can use him.”

“Use the warrior,” the creature or being or whatever it was spoke. “He’s the one who must do it.”

“Why? Maitreya is easier to manipulate. Arnava and Bhaskara are already as thick as thieves. It’ll be a difficult task to turn him against Bhaskara.”

“Do not speak names!” the creature hissed. “Names have no place here! It must be the warrior, for otherwise, he will ascend to the throne and he will not rest until he has taken his revenge on us!”

“What have you against him?” he asked now, curious. “I know why I want him gone. I have plans for Jwalamukha and they are not served easily if – the usurper is on the throne, and yes, the warrior on the throne could be easily problematic and so it helps my goals if he would get rid of his brother, but what is your stake in this?”

“The witch, Malavika,” the creature hissed. “She stole the enchantment from us, and cheated us of our revenge when she used it to protect her child. We would have killed her, and had our soul for ours had she not sacrificed herself.”

The man again felt a prickle of fear. This was no ordinary being. It was a spawn of hell, and he knew that one misstep could cause his soul to belong to it.

“So, now you want her son’s soul.”

“We want his life by breaking the stolen spell! And we will have a soul, his or his brother’s. The one who strikes the killing blow will be ours! You just have to make certain that he doesn’t live long enough to redeem himself.”

The man nodded. The thing was right. Once Arnava had killed Bhaskara, it would be better to get rid of him. Mahakarma was a doting father and might decide to forgive his son for fratricide, and Arnava on the throne was no different than Mahakarma on the throne. Sumitra, on the other hand, was weak. He could be manipulated, failing which he could be removed easily, and they could take control of Jwalamukha and its vast resources. But first, he had the daunting task before him of turning Arnava against his brother.

The Banished Secret: Chapter Four

Abhi moaned in his sleep. He was having a nightmare. He and Aditya were walking on top of a cliff. A giant bird swooped down and took Aditya up in his claws.

"I shall get rid of him for you!" The voice rumbled like thunder.

"No!" He screamed, and the sky changed, became dark and reddish and red clouds massed overhead before blood started pouring from the heavens and another voice thundered, “Fratricide! Is this the payment for all the love your brother gave you?”

He woke, panting, and sweating, the sheets tangled around his body. He stared around wildly. He sprang out of his bed and ran to his brother's room, and opened the door without knocking.

Aditya was fast asleep, one of his legs dangling from the side of the bed. The bed clothes were in disorder as if he had been tossing and turning. Abhi frowned. Was Aditya having a nightmare too?

Aditya groaned in his sleep. “No,” he muttered. “No, don’t. Please don’t!”

Abhi went to him and shook him by the shoulder. "Wake up, Aditya, you're having a nightmare!"

Aditya clutched his arm as he opened his eyes. There was a wild look in his eyes which were unfocussed. "Arnava!"

"Aditya, it’s me, Abhi." Abhi was worried. Who was Arnava?

Aditya's gaze focussed on his face. "Abhi?"

"Yes, you were having a nightmare." He said soothingly.

"Yea… Thanks…. but what are you doing in my room?" Aditya gave him a questioning look.

"I had a nightmare. I... I came to check if you were all right." Abhi muttered.

"I'm fine," Aditya said and was surprised as he was pulled into a hug. Abhi clung to him fiercely.

"Hey," Aditya’s voice was gentle. "I'm all right, you know."

"It seemed so real," Abhi said, his voice muffled by Aditya’s shoulder. He was shaking.

"They always do, but they are not.,” Aditya stroked his brother’s head, holding him close. He could not remember his own nightmare, but Abhi seemed shaken by his. “They disappear as soon as we wake."

"I know," Abhi murmured as he relaxed, and pulled away, though Aditya’s arms were still around him. "It's strange that we both should have had nightmares on the same night."

"Yes. I'm gonna kill mom." Aditya released his brother.

Abhi gave a weak chuckle, "She's not even here. What did she do?"

"For not telling us that guzzling ice cream before bed can cause nightmares!" Aditya said in an injured tone.

"You think the ice cream caused our nightmares?" Abhi sounded sceptical.

"What else could it have been?" Aditya quirked an eyebrow teasingly. “We both had it, and we both had horrible nightmares. Ergo, the ice cream is the culprit.”

"I so enjoyed eating it." Abhi said wistfully.

"So did I," Aditya said, sighing, before perking up. “But you know, we didn’t finish it."

"May be that's why we are having nightmares.” Abhi said grinning. “Our subconscious could be telling us that we forgot to finish the ice cream!"

"Let's finish it!" Aditya sprang up from the bed.

Abhi chuckled. "Remember how dad says there's always something that brings out the kid in us?"

"Yea. For me it's ice cream!" Aditya laughed as he raced out of the room.

"For me too!" Abhi laughed as he followed Aditya to the kitchen, all nightmares forgotten.

The Banished Secret: Chapter Three

The attackers came out of nowhere. There were twelve men in all, and Bhaskara frowned as he saw that their faces were covered with a dark strip of cloth which showed only their eyes. They were all dressed identically, angavastra, upavastra and daggers sheathed at their waists, and drawn swords in their right hand. Their left hands were empty, but Bhaskara had no doubt that they could draw their daggers with it just as easily or transfer their sword to it in the blink of an eye. Their bare torsos were covered with an inky pattern which he could not see clearly in the fast dimming light.

Bhaskara knew he was at a disadvantage since he was unarmed. His eyes swept the area just as the men closed in on him, their strides measured. The temple was deserted at this time in the evening. The sun had already gone down. They had chosen a good time for their attack. It disturbed him that someone should have followed him so closely as to know his times for visiting the temple. He never carried his weapons when he visited the temple and they certainly must have known it. He was still not used to having bodyguards and left them behind whenever he could.

On the positive side, the enchantment his mother placed on him ensured that their weapons could not damage him, but the enchantment did not make him imperious to pain, and the swords and daggers would cause enough pain.

The unknown assailants were very near to him.

"Who are you? What do you want?" He asked.

"We are your death!" one of them said even as he lunged at Bhaskara with his sword. Bhaskara caught the blade with one hand. He grimaced at the pain, but it was no less than he expected and he did not relax his grip. He clenched his other hand into a fist and slammed into the man's jaw in the same instant. The man's grip on the sword slackened and Bhaskara yanked it from his hand, transferring the hilt to his palm and taking a defensive stance. His attackers hung back a bit, since he was armed now. The owner of the sword snarled and lunged at him and Bhaskara slashed him across the chest.

With a shriek of pain, he went down. One of his fellows bent down and slit his throat with his dagger.

"We don't want noises, here!" He said as he rose.

"Why are you after me?" Bhaskara asked. "Who sent you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" another one jeered.

They attacked him together, with sword and dagger. Though they tried to spread out and surround him, Bhaskara shifted his stance, always keeping them in front of him, and attacking furiously at the same time as fending them off with everything he had. He didn’t want to kill them all; he wanted answers, and dead men provided none. That didn’t mean he didn’t have to kill anyone, and he stabbed one through the heart and grabbed his dagger to plunge it into the neck of another before yanking out his sword and facing the rest.

"Hey!" There was a shout and then an arrow pierced the heart of the man on the right flank.

"Run!" One man shrieked, and the rest of them fled from the arrows. Bhaskara thrust the sword into the ground and stood with his hand on it, breathing heavily.

"Are you all right?" Arnava was anxious as he came running towards his brother. His heart had nearly stopped when he saw Bhaskara being attacked, and he had fired his arrows almost on instinct, drawing his sword and dropping his bow even as the two arrows found their marks.

Bhaskara nodded, too winded to speak.

"Who were they? Why were they attacking you?" Arnava asked again. He was angry and frightened.

"I have no idea," Bhaskara said as he straightened. He looked around him. There were five corpses there, including the first man and two had arrows sticking from their bodies.

"Thank you," he said, giving Arnava a weak smile.

"Don't thank me!" Arnava burst out. "I am sorry I didn't get them all!"

Bhaskara bent down and ripped off the strip of cloth from one of the dead men's faces. He frowned. The man was a total stranger.

"Do you know him?" Arnava asked.

Bhaskara shook his head. He was confused. “Do you?”

Arnava too shook his head. “What is that symbol on their bodies?”

Bhaskara frowned as he looked at it. It was drawn in dark ink and was hardly visible in the gathering dusk. “Why should anyone be after me?” He muttered, almost to himself, confused and shocked.

"Let's go home," Arnava spoke, pulling at his arm. "It's getting dark. We shall send some of our guards here to remove the corpses and to examine them. There's nothing more we can do here."

They walked away from the temple, going down the hill at a fast pace, their eyes and other senses alert for any ambush.

“I’m glad you showed up when you did,” Bhaskara said.

“You were late getting back from the temple, and we’d both promised Sumitra to pose for his new painting.”

Bhaskara grimaced. “I should have known you would have an ulterior motive!”

Arnava gave a smile, but it was strained. The remnants of the nightmare he had last night still clung to him. The nightmare in which he’d watched Bhaskara being attacked by a group of people, and he’d been unable to help.

The Banished Secret: Chapter Two

"Life sucks!" Abhi declared. His older brother, Aditya lifted his eyebrows but did not answer. Abhi was normally even tempered and sunny, but he too had bad days.

Abhi was a handsome young man of around twenty. Though he was lounging on the couch, looking fairly indolent, he did have a good physique. He was tall and loose limbed. His dusky complexion only enhanced the brilliance of his eyes and smile. Aditya too looked much the same as his brother, except that he was at least ten years older and his complexion was molten gold. Apart from that, they looked exactly like the other. On his bad days, Abhi used to remark sourly that their mother loved Aditya so much, she gave birth to his xerox copy ten years later. Except that the settings were off, so the copy came out dark and not quite the same. Rochan and Achla used to laugh at Abhi's statement, but not Aditya.

Aditya wondered if it was going to be one of those days. He glanced at the newspaper, sipping his coffee, hoping against hope that Abhi would let him read in peace. Though twenty, Abhi often behaved like he was much younger.

"It really sucks!" Abhi repeated, sitting up in the couch and looking at Aditya where he was sitting next to the coffee table in an armchair.

"What happened?" Aditya asked, sighing and setting the newspaper aside.

"That old professor of yours," Abhi said moodily. "That Professor Alex. He’s never satisfied. Whatever I do is never enough. The other day he asked me if I was really your brother!"

Aditya chuckled. "He’s like that with everyone. He asked me once if I was really dad's son!" He winked at Abhi. "It's his style. Don't let it get to you."

"I don't care for his style," Abhi muttered. "Thank God he's retiring this month!"

"Who's coming to replace him, do you know?"

"No, and I don't see why you should be bothered. You are free of it!"

Aditya laughed. "Do you think only students have it tough?"

"I tend to forget you are a teacher these days," Abhi moaned. "I don't know why teachers forget all about their own student days as soon as they stand on the other side of the desk!"

"For the same reason why parents forget all about their childhood as soon as their first child is born," Aditya replied.

"That’s so true," Abhi said, grimacing. "Talking of parents, when are dad and mom returning? Do you know?"

Aditya shook his head. "No, but shouldn't you be concentrating on your assignment for Professor Alex? Granted, he's retiring at the end of the month, but he's certainly going to make your life miserable for the entire month if you don't turn it in on time."

"I know," Abhi sighed. "I've finished it. Just some fine tuning required."

"What's your plan today? It’s a holiday, isn’t it?"

"Nothing much. Shyam wants me to go to his place. He and Vina are planning to watch some stupid mytho show."

"And you don't want to?" Aditya looked amused.

Abhi grimaced. "I don't dig mythos. I don't even know why they hang out with me. We’ve absolutely nothing in common."

“A bit too late to gripe on that, don’t you think? The three of you have been inseparable since primary school.”

“Yea, but the differences were not so glaring then. Now… it’s as if we can’t agree on anything.”

"Life might be pretty boring if everyone agreed on everything," Aditya remarked.

"Please," Abhi groaned. "Spare me the platitudes till later in the day."

Aditya laughed as the doorbell rang.“Must be your friends,” Aditya smiled.

“I’ll be going then,” Abhi said, sounding thoroughly disgruntled as he went to open his door.

“Ready?” Shyam smiled brightly.

“I suppose,” Abhi said wearily.

“Come on, sleepy head!” Vina laughed as she dragged him to their car.

Abhi was feeling bored. Shyam and Vina were waxing eloquent about the actors and the costumes and stuff, but all he could see were a set of people dressed up in too bright clothes and a lot of unnecessary ornaments and too much glitter. He did not like their wigs either, and the dialogues made him yawn.

"Bored?" Shyam leaned against him.

"Oh, don't mind me," he said, yawning again. "You two carry on. You know I don't like this stuff."

Vina turned to look at them and rolled her eyes. "Perhaps we should have asked your brother to come."

"Aditya?" Abhi chuckled. "He likes this stuff even less than I do!"

"Why don't you try to know the story?" Shyam suggested, his arm snaking around Abhi’s shoulder. "You might find it interesting."

"Please," Abhi said, groaning. "I can't read anything other than thrillers. You know that."

"Imagine this is a thriller, then. It is thrilling enough." Vina smirked.

"Yea, sure!" Abhi laughed. "If that's a thriller, then I'm Ved Vyas!"

"Impressive!" Shyam laughed too. "So you know Ved Vyas' name!"

"Ha ha!" Abhi said. "It’s a side effect of hanging around with you two!"

"It's a start!" Vina said, winking. "We'll make a mytho lover of you yet!"

"Why can't you two just take me as I am?" Abhi asked plaintively, as his friends broke into laughter.

The Banished Secret: Chapter One

The man stood before the King, head held high.

“I come seeking my destiny,” he said. “I wish to offer my services to you, your majesty.”

The King smiled at the stranger. He was handsome, with a broad forehead, finely moulded lips, an aquiline nose, sharp cheekbones and a firm chin. His moustache was dark, and he had no beard. His hair was wavy and of shoulder-length. His stance was relaxed, yet vigilant, and his body was well muscled and well proportioned with broad shoulders, narrow hips and long limbs. His complexion was golden and his eyes held no fear. A longbow was slung on his shoulder, and a quiver of arrows was on his back. He wore a sword in a plain scabbard, and a dagger was strapped to his leg. He wore no armour, but was dressed plainly, in an angavastra and an uttariya was worn around his torso.

“I admire your bravery,” he said. “But you must prove your skills before you can join my army. But before all that, tell me your name.”

“My name is Bhaskara,” the man replied. “I’m an orphan and has been brought up by a sage who taught me the lore of the ancients as also warfare and weaponry.”

“Bhaskara,” mused the King. “Has the name been given by your adoptive father?”

The man inclined his head in what might have been agreement. “How am I to prove myself?”

“You shall fight against the best warrior in my kingdom. My son and heir, Arnava. Be not ashamed if you lose, for, he is the very best warrior in all of Bharatavarsha, and it is said there is no warrior in all fourteen worlds to equal him.”

“Let his weapons and skill testify to that,” Bhaskara spoke with an easy confidence that bordered on arrogance.

King Mahakarma chuckled. “I like your confidence. A combat between you and Prince Arnava shall be arranged this week itself. Where do you stay?”

“In a house in the West street.”

The King frowned. “That street has only broken down old buildings. No one stays there.”

“I found a house that was not in much disrepair, and made it habitable,” Bhaskara shrugged. “I like my privacy.”

“I would like to know one thing more,” the King said.

Bhaskara gave an inquiring lift of his eyebrows in response.

“You say you are a warrior, well versed in warcraft. Yet, how is it that your body remains unblemished? There are no scars on you that I can see.”

“A powerful enchantment has been placed on me by my mother before she died. The sage who brought me up told me that she was an enchantress. The enchantment is protective in nature, and as a result, I cannot be harmed by any weapon forged by man or god or demon.”

The King gasped aloud. Surely, this could not be! He looked at the young man closely. No wonder he looked familiar.

“Has the sage told you the name of your mother?” the King asked, trying hard to keep his voice from trembling. His mind was in turmoil. This young man could not be the result of his indiscretion so long ago. Malavika had warned him how it would be, but he had not listened. His lust for her was so strong, that he had forgotten he had a wife and a son.

Bhaskara’s expression turned stony. “I do not see what my mother’s name has to do with anything.”

“Was her name Malavika?” the King asked. He had to know. And if this was indeed Malavika’s son, then… the King refused to think further. He prayed he was wrong, and that this stranger was the son of some other enchantress. But how many enchantresses could there be capable of weaving an enchantment that rendered its subject invulnerable to weapons, fire or water?

“How do you know that?” Bhaskara’s eyes were hard and glittered with suspicion.

“Because I’m your father,” King Mahakarma said. “And you… you are my eldest living son, and as such heir to this Kingdom,” his voice was heavy, but he knew Arnava would not mind. He had never been interested in being King. Sumitra would not mind either. His head was full of art, and music, and he was interested in nothing else. But he was worried about the reaction of his youngest, Maitreya. Maitreya was not ambitious for himself, but he was fiercely loyal to Arnava. If only Mahabala, his eldest had survived the childhood ailment that had foiled the best efforts of all royal physicians… He hated having to do this, but this was his son, and it was not Bhaskara’s fault that his father had been weak and lustful and unfaithful to his wife.

“My father?” Bhaskara’s face held incredulity. The entire court was so silent, Mahakarma could hear his own heart beat loudly. Bhaskara looked around, as if searching for an escape route. He had a hunted look, and somehow, that made Mahakarma laugh.

“Don’t look as if you’re about to be executed,” he said through chuckles. “You are the heir to the throne, after all.”

“There has to be some mistake,” Bhaskara insisted, his voice quivering.

Mahakarma shook his head. “Not unless there are two Malavikas who are enchantresses and who knew an enchantment to make their subject invulnerable.”

Bhaskara looked resigned. “The sage told me he’d never heard of such an enchantment,” he admitted. “He said he knew of no one else who could have cast it.”

“I know,” Mahakarma said quietly. “That was why I sought her, but she told me the enchantment would cost her her life.”

Bhaskara’s expression suddenly became vulnerable, as if someone had suddenly stabbed him, and Mahakarma felt a moment’s sorrow. “You mean she gave her life to put this enchantment on me?”

Mahakarma nodded. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then Mahakarma rose. “Pradhanamantrin, Senapati, Sthapathi, Rajaguru, make arrangements for my son’s stay in the palace, for announcing the arrival of the Yuvaraja to the people, for conducting Pujas at the temple, and for familiarizing him with the kingdom and the army.” he paused. “Come with me, Bhaskara. I must introduce you to your brothers.” For the first time, Mahakarma was grateful that his wife was no more.

Bhaskara stood as if rooted to the spot. Two royal guards were at his side. “Your highness?” One of them prompted gently. He looked at them strangely, and then at the King. Mahakarma gestured for him to follow as he walked out of the audience hall.

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Book Review: Zemindar

Zemindar is an extremely well written book, and it is hard to believe that it is the first -and as it turned out-the only book by the author. The book follows the experiences of an English young woman, Laura Hewitt, who's accompanying her cousin, Emily, and her husband, Charles, on their bride visit to India. The Zemindar of the title is Charles' half brother, Oliver whom he had never met, and whom his mother had convinced him to meet since she- and Charles too- hopes that Oliver, rich as a nabob and a bachelor, might make Charles his heir. The bride visit falls in the year 1857, when the country is already at unrest, and soon, Laura and her party find themselves in the eye of the mutiny of 1857 that had the whole country ablaze.

What I liked: Its language. The book is around 800 pages long, and yet it doesn't make the reader lose interest at any point. The events are interesting, the dialogues are good, the descriptions are sufficient, and there's enough action. The history is well researched and quite accurate. The sense of period it evokes is enough to make one feel part of the period. The supporting cast have been portrayed extremely well, and it is they who hold our sympathy more than the main two characters, who are to me, the greatest weaknesses of the book.

What I did not like: Laura is too insipid, and too passive a character in my opinion. I could not like her somehow, for though she inwardly condemns passivity, she remains passive almost throughout the book. She grows a spine only towards the end, and even then, it doesn't feel like a natural growth. Almost every single male character in the book has been degraded in one way or other to bring home the greatness of Oliver. It seemed too contrived and too pointless to do so. Yea. Oliver is great. We get it. Why destroy everyone else to prove it? In spite of all that, Oliver remains the same in the book. The man we see at the beginning is the man we see at the end, except that he has fallen in love. Charles seems to be the only character who shows any sign of growth, but even then, it is as if the author seeks to divert the reader's attention from the fact that he has, in fact, changed for the better. Another thing is many of the historical facts do not seem to blend into the story, but seem more like treatises. The hindsight of many historians has been presented as foresight of Oliver, which made me roll my eye.

The book did not offer me any new insight into Anglo Indian relations in those time any more than any history book could have. Even Oliver who claims to love India seems to me to be more of an advocate of White Man's Burden, albeit a more selfless one, than someone who thinks that the Indians are capable of governing their own land. The book condemns the mistakes the East India Company made with regards to their dealings with India, but presupposes that the crown would be a better guardian. Bitter experience has taught Indians that the crown was worse even than the company, and I can only give a sardonic eye to the many justifications.

That said, the book is an entertaining read, and factually correct. For those not familiar with the history of those times, the book can provide an insight into those times. However, the prejudices of the author are obvious, and should be taken with a pinch of salt, especially if you are unfamiliar with the history of British rule in India.

Book Review: Faro's Daughter

It may be inaccurate to categorize Georgette Heyer's works as just romances. They do have romance in them, but none of them deal exclusively with romance. They are more of historical novels, rich in period detail and in human interest. She is a writer who can create plots that appear simple and even trivial, and yet keep a reader hooked on to the book till the last page.

The plot of Faro's Daughter may look simple, cliched and wholly predictable. A rich bachelor seeks to extricate his young cousin, a nobleman from the toils of a young woman whose aunt runs a gaming house. But Deb is hardly the traditional heroine with a sob story, and Max Ravenscar is not the philanthropic guardian angel who falls for her charms. From the beginning, it is a battle of wills between them, with neither able to get the better of the other.

Throw in Arabella, the saucy young sister of Ravenscar with a penchant for falling in love and falling just as quickly out; Lucius Kennet, an adventurer who hangs around Deb and has a way with ladies; Adrian, Ravenscar's cousin and The Earl of Mablethorpe, wholly infatuated with Deb; Lord Ormskirk, a middle aged nobleman who holds a mortgage on Lady Bellingham's house as well as her bills and who is desirous of making Deb his mistress; Sir James Filey, a repulsive man who is trying desperately to beat Ravenscar and challenges him to a race; Kit Grantham, Deb's younger brother, who is as heedless as he is expensive; Lady Belligham, Deb's feckless, but wholly practical aunt and Phoebe Laxton, a beautiful, but insipid young girl who is forced to run away from the man her parents had chosen for her; and we have a cast of unforgettable characters.

The plot starts interestingly with Adrian's worried mother importuning Ravenscar to save her son from “that female,” and unfolds with Ravenscar's visit to the gaming house and their subsequent clashes. Matters come to a head when Deb has Ravenscar kidnapped on the eve of his race with Sir James Filey and Kit forcibly takes the key from Deb and releases him since he's in love with Arabella. In the meantime, Adrian falls in love with Phoebe Laxton whom Deb had sheltered, and Lucius Kennet forms a scheme to kidnap Arabella. Georgette Heyer resolves all complications with enviable simplicity and when the predictable end comes to pass, it is with a realization that the journey has been far different from the anticipated one. Ravenscar is wholly indifferent to the world, and when Deb tells him that he cannot marry a wench out of a gaming house, he tells her that he was going to marry a wench out of a gaming house with as much pomp and ceremony as he can contrive. And since he is one of the richest men in town, we can imagine that he will contrive a great deal.