Heli Hogu Karana

Balagith
Jothamonne

Heli Hogu Karana (A Novel)
Ravi Belagere

Bhavana Prakashana
#2, 80 Feet Road, Banashankari 2nd Stage, Padmanabhanagar, Bengaluru - 560 070
Email: bhavanaprakashana@gmail.com
Website: www.ravibelagere.com
Phone: 94480 51726

Heli Hogu Karana (A Novel)
Ravi Belagere
Pages: 339
Price: Rs. 350
Copies: 3000
Printed at: Sri Ganesh Printers Pvt. Ltd., Bengaluru.

Printing History:
First Edition: September 2003
Second Edition: November 2008
Third Edition: April 2009
Fourth Edition: December 2009
Fifth Edition: October 2010
Sixth Edition: December 2011
Seventh Edition: April 2012
Eighth Edition: February 2013
Ninth Edition: June 2014
Tenth Edition: January 2015
Eleventh Edition: January 2016
Twelfth Edition: August 2016
Thirteenth Edition: June 2017
Fourteenth Edition: August 2018
Fifteenth Edition: July 2019
Sixteenth Edition: December 2019
Seventeenth Edition: August 2020
Eighteenth Edition: January 2021
Nineteenth Edition: August 2021
Twentieth Edition: January 2022
Twenty-First Edition: July 2022
Twenty-Second Edition: January 2023
Twenty-Third Edition: June 2023
Twenty-Fourth Edition: August 2023
Twenty-Fifth Edition: December 2023
Twenty-Sixth Edition: March 2024
Twenty-Seventh Edition: June 2024
Twenty-Eighth Edition: August 2024
Twenty-Ninth Edition: November 2024
Thirtieth Edition: January 2025
Thirty-First Edition: April 2025

Dear Ravi,

I am a person who has been living without knowing what tears are for the past ten years, but after watching the serial Heli Hogu Karana, I was moved by the character of Prarthana. For some reason, I felt a lump in my throat and I cried. I am a person who leads a life like a candy seller. That's why the girl is very far from me. I request you to please complete the novel and put an end to my curiosity, Vaishesh Lakshmeeshwar. I am writing this letter to you, and you are a reader of mine whom I have not met yet, Mahesh, Ravi Belagere.

I have been wandering around the country, and my weight, which was once around one hundred and six kilograms, has now reduced to sixty-nine kilograms. It all started with the interview of Kola Fayaz, the murderer from Shivajinagar, and my journey in journalism, which has taken me to the depths of Italy, has been a long one. I have come to realize that writing without investigation, research, and emotion is not worth it, and it years to understand this. I have traveled to more than thirty countries and have written about various topics such as love, history, lust, war, terrorism, cinema, and more. I have been fortunate enough to have been given the Aktha award, and I am content.

I have also ventured into television, and I am the executive officer of Janashree TV. It took me twenty-four years to receive my first Sahitya Akademi award, and received the Shivaram Karanth Award, the Masti Award, and the Rajyotsava Award. I have translated the autobiography of a Telugu writer, and I have received the Kuvempu Bhasha Bharati Award for it. The biggest award is from the auto drivers of Bangalore, who have given me the "Sakkathaga Bariythaane" award.

I have also acted in a few Kannada films, and I have written several books, including "Haay Bangalore" and "Omanase". I have a book store in Gandhi Bazaar, Bangalore, called "BBC" (Belagere Book Center and Coffee). mix of fans and critics, two daughters and two sons, as well as two wives and four grandchildren. My weaknesses include smoking, traveling, reading, writing, music, and history. The world is my home, and I am always wondering what to do next.

They walked on, both of them, in the shade, their feet moving in unison, as if they were on a well-practiced routine. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants, and she had her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. Their conversation had reached a point where they were both silent, lost in their own thoughts. The chill of the Shivamogga evening was biting, and they had already eaten half of the rice that had been served for dinner.

"Why are you so far away?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "If we cross the Shivamurthy Circle, it's only a five-minute walk." "You can see the circle from here," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you start talking to me, will you not shiver with cold?" "And get hungry?" he asked, his eyes scanning her face. "What are you afraid of?" she asked, her voice firm, but her eyes betraying a hint of uncertainty.

Her name was Prarthana, and this was not her first walk. She had walked from Channarayapatna to Arasikere, and he had been with her every step of the way, his hand in hers, his fingers intertwined with hers. "If we walk a little further," he said, "we'll reach the Kadur road. If we turn left there, we'll reach the Beeroor village." "And right," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, forest. If we walk a little further, tree's shadow, and the evening breeze will be cool." "But too far," he said, his voice low and husky, "we'll reach the Tarikere village. And far from there, it will take hours to reach Shivamogga."

He was lost in thought, his eyes scanning the horizon, his mind racing with the possibilities. She was quiet, her eyes fixed on the ground, her feet moving in unison with his. They had been walking for hours, and the sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the landscape. "When we reach Shivamogga," he said, his voice low and husky, "we'll be safe. We'll be close to home." "But for now," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "let's just walk."

If she had not walked with him, she would have got lost somewhere along the way, she thought. Her ankle, which she had twisted near Tarikere, had started to pain and must be bleeding. She dragged her feet with effort. Himavant looked at her affectionately and tightened his grip in his pocket. The cold was beginning to numb their fingers. "Who are you?" a hoarse voice called out, making them both startle. The voice came unexpectedly from the darkness in the northeastern corner of Shivamurthy Circle. Behind it emerged a night-patrol police constable wearing a heavy coat. His heavy boots clicked on the ground. Under the street light, his stubbled face looked even harsher. "Who are you?" he asked again, coming closer. A bidi burned angrily between his fingers. For some reason, he suddenly reminded her of her father! "I am Himavant, her name is Prarthana," Himavant answered in a calm voice. "Where are you coming from?" the constable asked. "From Channarayapatna." "At what time? Which bus? Where is the ticket?" The questions came firing from the constable's mouth. "We didn't come by bus, we walked. Where would we get a ticket? We need to go home," Himavant replied fluently. The constable's stubbled face was filled with surprise. Walking from Channarayapatna? Are they crazy? "You should at least lie convincingly. Come to the station. You seem to have brought a girl along, who knows if there's a missing case registered. The inspector isn't nice. You know how sub-inspectors are? Very strict." "I will tell you once more. My name is Himavant, she is Prarthana. We are both over eighteen. If you call, we will come anywhere in the morning. Past the circle, it's a five-minute walk. I live in the backyard of merchant Shantayya's house. We didn't walk because we didn't have bus fare. I have one hundred and twenty rupees in my pocket." Himavant was about to say something else. "Then why did you walk?" the constable interrupted. "We want to walk together for the rest of our lives, at least till Shivamogga, to see if we could do it through grit. There are only five kilometers left...

Himavant's footsteps were slow. His fever had worsened. Whatever you do, I need to stay in bed today. Don't bother us; I'll be fine if you just let me be. Sit in my room and watch the sunrise tomorrow. + ;) There was a slight unease in Himavant's voice, a faint tremble in his hand. He had never spoken like this before. such words. He was usually so calm and composed. But now, his eyes were sunken, his face pale. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

He glanced at Prarthana's hand, which was swollen and red. Her ring finger was bruised and her nail was broken. He looked at her foot, toes were nails were face, which was pale and drawn. She looked like a woman who had been through a nightmare.

Himavant's eyes wandered to the window, where the darkness outside seemed to press in on him. He thought of the day Prarthana had gone out and not returned. look on her face when she came back, her eyes red and puffy, her voice shaking. way she had clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her body trembling with fear.

He thought of the way she had spoken to him, her voice barely above a whisper, her words slurred and incoherent. had looked at him, her eyes wild and unfocused, her face twisted in a mixture of fear and desperation.

He thought of the way she had clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her body trembling with fear. had spoken voice barely above a whisper, her words slurred and incoherent.

Himavant stood at the door, watching Prarthana tend to her wound with a bandage. "Did you walk ten kilometers?" he asked. "Does our love have the strength to overcome anything?" He then asked, "Did you take nine steps before the seven verses?" Prarthana replied, "Who counted?" Himavant asked, "How far is it from Channarayapatna to Shivamogga?" Prarthana said, "I don't know."

Meanwhile, Himavant's thoughts drifted to his family. His brother was probably milking the cow, and his mother was probably crying. He didn't think about searching for them. Prarthana was lost in thought, standing at the door. Himavant opened the window and let in fresh air. He changed his clothes, put on a lungi, and went to the kitchen to make tea. He lit the stove and put water to boil. Prarthana, still standing at the door, suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. "Come in," she said. "We have to start a new life from now on."

Himavant poured water from the tap into a pot. "Which gods are we praying to?" he asked. Prarthana replied, "I don't know." Himavant put his left foot into the water. "Prarthana, you first," he said. Prarthana hesitated for a moment before stepping Her right foot hurt, and she winced in pain. Himavant noticed and suggested that she put in first. But Prarthana's right foot was the one that had been injured, and she had put it in first.

Himavant's left foot was in the water, and he was trying to make it comfortable for Prarthana. But the water was too hot, getting burned. He took out his foot and put it back in, but it still hurt. He tried but it was no use. again and let it cool down. Prarthana was still standing at the door, watching him.

After a while, Himavant got out of the water and dried himself. He looked at Prarthana and asked, "Are you okay?" Prarthana nodded. Himavant then went to the door and looked out. He saw Rasool Jamadar, who was sitting on a bench, staring at him. Rasool's old bicycle was parked nearby.

Himavant noticed that Prarthana's feet were hidden under the blanket, her ankles were swollen; her skin was pale and her eyelids were drooping. Her arguments were submerged in the water, like a fish, and she was completely absorbed in her thoughts. Her toes were curled up and her heels

Her fingers were clenched into a fist, like a small child, and she was completely absorbed in her thoughts. She was not aware of anything else, not even the fact that Himavant was watching her. thoughts,

A child is born with a natural instinct to suckle, and Prarthana was no exception. She did not need to be told to suckle, it was for her. And Himavant knew that it was not just a matter of a child being born, but a natural instinct that was present from the moment of birth.

He remembered the words of his mother, "A child is born with a natural instinct to suckle, and it is not something that can be taught." And he knew that Prarthana was no exception. She was a child, and she had

He looked at her, and he saw that she was completely absorbed in her thoughts. She was not aware of anything else, not even the fact that he was watching her. thoughts, like a small child, and thoughts.

He thought to himself, "If I were to ask her to change her clothes, she would not even notice. She is so absorbed in her thoughts, like a small child, and she is completely thoughts." And he knew that it was not just a matter of a child being born, but a natural instinct that was present from the moment of birth.

She sat in silence for a while. "Himavant!" she called out, her eyes filled with a sudden vulnerability. That night too was like hell. The town lights had gone out. Lord! He must have applied some medicine to her forehead. The clothes she wore must have given her a new look, Lord! What shame taught was the smile of a gentle surprise. A sort of confidence flickered in her eyes. In grown-up girls, this innocence is dead. The look on the faces of beautiful but unintelligent women is not innocence; only in a face where a playful confidence and innocence mix does it look beautiful. Perhaps that was what was meant. Even as one thinks so, her consent is obtained.
Thus, starting from Channarayapatna, the two unclear shadows walked and entered the small room in the backyard of merchant Shantappa’s house near Shivamurthy Circle that night, unnoticed by anyone, except for Rasool Jamadar. He had quietly walked behind them, stood at the door to confirm that both had reached their room, and then returned.
For those shadows, there was no other shelter in the whole world. One shadow was struggling in helplessness, while the other held its hand in consent.
"Will you really give me a life, Himavant?" Prarthana had asked during their first meetings.
"I don't know. But I can give you everything life has given me, without any deceit. In return, I will not ask what you will give me, because life is not something to be given or taken. It is something to be built. Let the hell you walked out of in your house end there. I will be waiting for you at the Channarayapatna bus stand. There might be a thousand buses and ten roads to reach Shivamogga, but remember: we must walk. We must walk on the main road itself. Dream whatever dream you want, Prarthana, until we reach Shivamogga from Channarayapatna. From the moment you step inside the threshold of my house in Shivamogga...

My life was ending, and a new one was beginning. They came to my room. That day was like any other in my life. I had no idea what I was supposed to be or what I should become, Prarthana? I didn't know. Maybe you don't know either. I don't want to give it a name even now; I am a man. My name is Himavant, and you are a woman. Prarthana. Now, tell me; believe me, and let's go to the corner of the Sakha village, to the Kaloomitam temple. Come, Himavant, to the branch of a tamarind tree that was there. He sat down and listened. Prarthana's eyes were filled with tears; she had escaped from her own hell. She had been running for sixteen days, seventeen nights, in the bus from Channarayapatna. She didn't have a single rupee in her pocket. Her dreams. "What do I want to become, Prarthana? a doctor, Himavant! be a mother who can give birth to lakhs of children, who can be like Amma. What is it that you are, Himavant?" he asked, looking at her. He looked at the Pushkarani, and it was hot; the water was splashing. He didn't need to count anything. He had a hundred and thirty rupees in his pocket. Can Prarthana become a doctor with that?

A flower from the deity's right arm in the temple was slowly falling down, and it was as if it was saying, "Prarthana will become a doctor!" Himavant had already made up his mind that Prarthana would become a doctor. "Hunger and lust - both will remain the same, Prarthana. They will trouble you as much as they have been troubling you. You will have to bear them; they will not leave you." Saying this, Himavant bit his finger and let the blood flow. Prarthana didn't say a word. Himavant was thinking about the treatment he had given her - the comfort that with his finger. Because the next morning, when she got up, he was still sleeping, and his body was burning like a flame. He was sleeping without a blanket.

Himavant sat up, trying to appear as if he had not been paying attention. Prarthana's eyes were closed, was trying to remember something. It had been a while since he had spoken, and now recall what he had said. He had been sitting there, staring at Prarthana, but it was all a blur.

He was a man who lived by routine, waking up early in the morning to do his chores, and finishing them by evening. He had a habit of remembering everything he had to do, and doing it on time. But today, something was different. Today, he was feeling restless, and his mind was wandering.

As he sat there, he thought about his son, Narasimayya, who was a student at the local school. He was a good boy, and Himavant was proud of him. He remembered the day Narasimayya had started going to school, and how he had been so excited to see him off. He had even made a point to stand outside the school, so that everyone in the village could see him, and know that he was a respectable man.

But now, as he sat there, he couldn't help but think about the rumors that had been circulating about Narasimayya. People were saying that he was not a good student, and living up to his potential. Himavant tried to push these thoughts away, but they kept coming back to him.

Just then, he heard the sound of a motorbike outside. It was Shivashankarayya, the school inspector, who had come to inspect the school. Himavant's heart sank, as he thought about the rumors that might be spread about Narasimayya. He quickly got up, and went to the door, trying to compose himself.

As he opened the door, he saw Shivashankarayya standing there, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. "What's going on here?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind. Himavant tried to explain, but Shivashankarayya cut him off. "I'm here to inspect the school, not to talk to you," he said, his tone firm.

Himavant nodded, trying to hide his embarrassment. He knew that he had been caught off guard, and not been prepared for the inspector's visit. He quickly stepped aside, allowing Shivashankarayya to enter the house.

As the inspector walked in, Himavant couldn't help but notice the look of disdain on his face. It was as if he was looking at something dirty, something that was beneath him. Himavant felt a surge of anger, but he tried to keep it in check. He knew that he had to be careful, respectful to the inspector, no matter how he felt.

Shivashankarayya walked into the house, his eyes scanning the room with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. Himavant followed him, trying to keep up with his pace. As they walked, Himavant couldn't help but think about the rumors that had been circulating about Narasimayya. He knew that he had to do something to clear his son's name, but he didn't know what.

As they reached the school, Himavant saw Narasimayya standing there, looking nervous. He was a good boy, and Himavant was proud of him. But as he looked at him, he saw something in his eyes that gave him pause. It was a look of fear, uncertainty. Himavant's heart sank, as he realized that his son was in trouble.

Himavant was walking with a limp. Both of them were extremely tired and had a lot of pain. This was the first time Himavant had decided not to go to school. "There are no people here who shouldn't be touched. It's not a matter of touching or being touched. It's the body. You touch it or it touches you, it's all the same. You see it or you don't see it, soul!" Narasimayya had spoken in such a way that it was rare for Himavant to hear. He was eighteen years old. Before this, Narasimayya had never spoken about the body. He had taken Himavant to school on his bicycle for the first time, and had also admitted him to high school there. "You don't know the seventh class, do you? I'll teach you won't I?" he had said, and had taken Himavant to school on his bicycle. Himavant had never seen Narasimayya so angry. He "I don't need to ride a bicycle to get to school. I can walk. I can walk

Himavant was making a story out of nothing. In the dead of night, Prarthana entered the room, her face lit up by the moonlight. The room was as quiet as a tomb, but she noticed a faint noise coming from the corner of the room. She saw a figure huddled under a blanket, its head resting on a bundle of clothes. It was Himavant, his arms and shoulders wrapped in a thick cloth, like a woman carrying a load of firewood on her head. His massive were as sturdy as a rock. Prarthana wondered how he could even move with such a heavy load on his shoulders.

As she approached him, Himavant looked up and smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Banni, banni, banni," he said, his voice low and husky. Prarthana's heart skipped a beat as she saw the old man, Shantappa, enter the room, his eyes fixed on the bundle of clothes. He was a stout man, with a round belly and a wispy beard. He wore a dhoti and a vest, and his hair was greying at the temples. On his chest, silver pendant, shaped like a linga, and a garland of flowers around his neck. He looked like a Brahmin priest, but his eyes were shrewd and cunning.

Shantappa's eyes scanned the room, and his gaze fell on the bundle of clothes. He walked towards it, his eyes fixed on it, and his hands reached out to touch it. "Kootakali," he said, his voice low and menacing. "What kind of person are you, to be carrying such a heavy load?" He looked at Himavant, his eyes narrowing. "Are you a fool, or a thief?" Himavant's smile faltered, and he looked down, his eyes avoiding Shantappa's gaze.

Shantappa's voice was like a whip, cracking with anger. "You are a fool, to be carrying such a heavy load. You are a thief, to be hiding it in my house." Himavant's eyes flashed with anger, but he said nothing. Shantappa's eyes narrowed, and he looked at Prarthana. "And you, girl, what are you doing here?" Prarthana's heart was racing, and she stuttered out an answer. "I-I came to study, sir. I'm a student." Shantappa's eyes scanned her face, and he nodded. "Very well, you may stay. But you must be careful, my house is not a place for idle chatter."

Himavant's eyes met Prarthana's, and he smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Shantappa's eyes followed his gaze, and his face darkened. "What is this, Himavant? You are a fool, to be making friends with this girl. She is a stranger, and you don't know her." Himavant's smile faltered, and he looked down, his eyes avoiding Shantappa's gaze. Shantappa's voice was like a whip, cracking with anger. "You are a fool, Himavant, to be trusting this girl. She may be a thief, or a spy."

Himavant didn't even bother to ask why I had gone; he just got up and left, leaving behind a "what's the point?" expression on his face. "I'll go to the house and come back," he said, "but you can start talking to me only after I've finished my attempt. I'll try to get a seat for her there. Let the noise of the world be on our ears, and let's talk quietly." He turned around and went out, leaving me alone.

As he walked out, he turned back and said, "If you see me, say 'doctor?'". I thought I saw a faint smile on his face away. "I'll show you the Shivamogga library," he said, "and if you go ahead, you'll be tired by the time you reach the end. Even if you take an auto-rickshaw, it's still a long way. Are you sure you want to go?"

Prarthana, who had been listening, spoke up, "If you go by bus from Karakod, I'll come with you." I looked at her in surprise, and she continued, "It's only a few rupees, and it'll take us to Channarayapatna by the time the sun rises." We had left Davanagere at around 10 pm, and it was now 10:30 pm. "Let's go," I said, and we set off towards Davanagere.

As we walked, Prarthana asked me, "Have you read anything in the library?" I told her that I had read a few books, and she said, "You should read more. It's good for your mind." I smiled and said, "I'll try to read more, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to finish it."

Let Himavant's decisions be. He was the kind of person who would make decisions without consulting anyone else, even if it meant going against the norms. That's why Prarthana had asked him, "Doctor, what's the point of asking if you're going to do what you want anyway?" But Himavant's decisions were not something that could be changed easily. So, he had decided to go to Davaanagere, and Prarthana had agreed to go with him.

As they walked, Prarthana couldn't help but think about how far away Davaanagere was. If she had to walk, it would take her a whole day to get there. Even if she took a bus, at least an hour. And what some more? She had seen the bus stop on the way, but she hadn't seen any other buses. She had no idea how long it would take to get to Davaanagere.

As they walked, Prarthana couldn't help but think about how different their town was from the other towns and villages they had seen on the way. small and peaceful, but the other places were bustling with activity. She had seen people walking in the streets, and shops and houses lined up one after the other. It was a completely different world from the one she was used to.

As they walked, Prarthana couldn't help but think about how much she missed her home. She had never been to Davaanagere before, and she wasn't sure what to expect. But she knew that she had to go with Himavant, no matter what. She was his wife, after all, and support him in everything he did.

As they walked, Prarthana couldn't help but think about how much she loved Himavant. He was a good man, and he always put her needs before his own. She knew that he was going to Davaanagere for a reason, and she was determined to find out what that reason was.

As they walked, Prarthana saw a small village in the distance. It was surrounded by fields and trees, and there was a small stream running through it. She had never seen a village like that before, and she was curious to know more about it. She asked Himavant to take her to the village, and he agreed.

As they walked into the village, Prarthana saw a group of people sitting under a tree. They were eating and drinking, and they looked happy and content. She saw a small shop in the center of the village, and she asked Himavant to take her there. He agreed, and they walked towards the shop.

As they walked, Prarthana saw a small boy sitting on the side of the road. He was eating a piece of bread, and he looked up at her with a smile. She smiled back at him, and he waved at her. She waved back, and they continued walking.

As they walked up the hill, Prarthana saw a small temple at the top. It was surrounded by trees and bushes, and there was a small stream running through it. She had never seen a temple like that before, and she was curious to know more about it. She asked Himavant to take her to the temple, and he agreed.

As they walked into the temple, Prarthana saw a group of people sitting on the floor. They were praying and chanting, and they looked peaceful and content. She saw a small idol of a god in the center of the temple, and she asked Himavant to tell her more about it. He agreed, and they sat down to listen.

As they sat there, Prarthana felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over her. She knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be, and she was grateful to Himavant for bringing her there. would always cherish this moment, have Himavant by her side.

It was a strange sight to see Himavant sitting under a tree, drinking water from a pot, without anyone bothering him. If you looked at him, you would think he was the closest person to Channarayapatna. His father, Aliandasandra, was like that. Aliandasandra's son, Orannaappa, was a man with a big name, born to a man who was known for his bravery. At that time, he was a young man, and he used to carry a panchanga and other things in his hand; he didn't know the days of the week, the stars, or the planets, but he was feared by people. They used to say that if he went to court and filed a case, he would win it, but if he faced someone who was stronger than him, he would run away.

But Himavant knew that his father was a man who had killed his mother and had hit his head with a big stone. They used to say that he would die by the third year, and that's why his stepmother, Appanna's sister, had left Aliandasandra's house and gone to Channarayapatna, crossing the Baragur river and settling in a house in the Kattegaratti village. It was said that Himavant was under the care of his stepmother, and that she had brought him up.

As for the question of who was born first, the mother or the child, it was a common saying that if the mother died, the child would also die. But Himavant's mother had died, and his stepmother had taken care of him. If she had also died, Prarthana would not have been born. The two of them would have been together, and their lives happy.

But Aliandasandra's daughter, Prarthana, was not born to him, and she was a girl who was loved by her father, and he used to say that she was the only one who understood him. could see the pain he was going through, and who could understand what he was feeling.

As for the question of what would happen to Prarthana, it was said that she would be married to a man who was worthy of her, and live a happy life. But Aliandasandra's son, Orannaappa, was not her. He was feared by people, and he was not loved by anyone.

But Himavant knew that his stepmother had taken care of him, and that she had brought him up. He knew that she was the one who had given him life, and had loved him. And he would never forget her, and that he would always be grateful to her.

He was not one to talk much. His silence too was unnerving. Sitting in the garden, he would stare at the water. If you didn't ask him anything, he would tell you two or three lies. He would say, 'Banthari Swami', and then a story, and he would make you believe it. about the things he had done in the past, but they were all lies.

He had seen the harshness of Apson's life, and death too, and it was even more brutal. play of Shanimahathma in the Seebangale near Kadaballi, so realistic that it seemed like he was watching a real-life drama. He had gone to the Seebangale in the afternoon, and good a part of it.

When he came back, he seemed to be in a trance, and walking in his sleep. It was as if he was possessed by a spirit. He would say, 'I am going to go back to the Seebangale', and he would walk in that direction. tree where I left the spirit', towards the tree.

He would say, 'I am going to release the spirit from the tree', and he would try to do it, but he couldn't. to go back to the Seebangale', walk in that direction. to see the play again', go to the Seebangale.

A year later, Shanimahathma's play was performed again in the Seebangale, and he went to see it. He sat in the front row, and he seemed to be in a trance. possessed by a spirit. He would say, 'I am going to go back to the tree', and he would walk towards the tree.

A few months later, the people who had performed the play in the Seebangale came to his house. They sat in the front row, and they seemed to be in a trance. possessed by a spirit. They would say, 'We are going to go back to the Seebangale', and they would walk in that direction.

They would say, 'We are going to see the play again', and they would go to the Seebangale. to go back to the tree', walk towards the tree. to release the spirit from try to do it, but they couldn't.

Himavant walked out of the house, his head held high. He had to go to the bus stop in Davaangere, but take the auto first. As he sat in the auto, he thought about how Kaveri would be working at the hotel, making coffee. He wondered if she would be able to do that job. sitting in and how thinking about him. how he her, and how he would be waiting for her to finish her work.

If he had to go to the bus stop, he would have Channarayapatna, and from there, take a bus to Shivamogga. But he didn't want to go that far. He wanted to stay in Davaangere, and be with Kaveri.

As he thought about this, he remembered how Kaveri had told him that she was hungry. He had promised to take her to the hotel for breakfast, but he had forgotten. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that about her.

He got out of the auto and walked to the hotel. He saw Kaveri sitting at the counter, making coffee. She looked up and saw him, and her face lit up with a smile. Himavant felt a pang of guilt for forgetting about her, but he was happy to see her.

"Good morning," he said, trying to sound cheerful. Kaveri smiled and said, "Good morning." Himavant sat down next to her and said, "I'm sorry I forgot about you. I was thinking about something else."

Kaveri looked at him with concern. "What were you thinking about?" she asked. Himavant hesitated, not wanting to tell her about his thoughts. But Kaveri's eyes were kind and understanding, and he felt like he could tell her anything.

"I was thinking about you," he said, trying to sound casual. Kaveri's face lit up with a smile, and she said, you too."

Himavant felt a surge of happiness at her words. He knew that he had to tell her how he felt, but he was scared. He didn't know if she felt the same way, and he was ready for a relationship.

As they sat there, making small talk, Himavant couldn't help but notice the silence of the house. It was a strange, eerie silence, like the house was holding its breath. He looked around, trying to see if there was anything out of the ordinary, but everything seemed normal.

Suddenly, Kaveri spoke up. "I'm going to go get some more coffee," she said. Himavant nodded, and she got up and walked away. As he watched her go, he felt a sense of unease. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew that something was off.

He looked around the house again, trying to see if he could find any clues. But everything seemed normal. He was starting to feel like he was going crazy.

Just as he was starting to think that he was imagining things, Kaveri came back with a tray of coffee. She set it down in front of him and said, "I brought you some coffee." Himavant smiled and said, "Thanks."

As he took a sip of the coffee, he noticed that Kaveri was staring at him. She was looking at him with a strange, intense gaze, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. He didn't know what she was thinking, but he knew that something.

"Kaveri, what's wrong?" he asked, trying to sound calm. Kaveri's eyes locked onto his, and she said, "Nothing's wrong. I just...I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Himavant felt a surge of relief at her words. He knew that she was trying to tell him something, but he didn't know what. He looked at her, trying to see if he could read her expression, but she was hiding something.

As they sat there, the silence between them was palpable. Himavant knew that he had to ask her what was going on, but he was scared. He didn't know if he was ready for the truth.

Himavant sat on the sofa, his clothes rumpled, as if he had been hastily dressed. The curtains, which were meant to be hung on the windows, were draped over the entire length of his shirt, with intricate embroidery and patterns that seemed to shimmer in the dim light. Prarthana had carefully arranged the fabric, making sure that every detail was perfect. Himavant's arrival was unexpected, and he was still trying to process the news. He had been summoned to the house, and Prarthana had been instructed to keep him occupied, from speaking.

"What if he says something?" Prarthana had thought to herself. asks something?" She had been worried that he might ask her something, and she wasn't sure how to respond. But Himavant had been quiet, his eyes fixed on the floor, his face expressionless.

Prarthana had tried to distract him, to keep him from thinking about whatever it was that had brought him to the house. She had talked about her work, about the medical seat she had secured, about the hospital where she would be working. But Himavant hadn't seemed to be listening, his mind elsewhere.

And then, suddenly, he had spoken, his voice low and even. "I came from Shivamogga," he had said. "I had a job to do. I had to come here." Prarthana had felt a shiver run down her spine as he spoke, his words dripping with an air of mystery.

"What job?" she had asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "What do you mean?" But Himavant had just smiled, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "You'll find out," he had said. "You'll find out soon enough."

Himavant's eyes widened in shock as he realized that there was no water to drink in his house. Like a river that flows towards its destination, Kaveri walked into the middle room, her eyes fixed on Himavant. She saw two young girls there and her eyes widened in alarm. She gasped, "Prarthana, what's your name? Is it Chenna? Oh, God, make them feel comfortable!" she said, her words dripping with sincerity.

As she spoke, the gate creaked open and Rasool Jamadar, the village headman, entered. "Has Jahnavi arrived?" he asked, his eyes scanning the room. Himavant's heart sank as he thought that Jahnavi's letter might have arrived. He got up and walked out of the room, his eyes fixed on the street outside. By the time he reached the street corner, Kaveri's eyes had filled with tears.

"Oh, God, I'm tired of this life," she said, her voice trembling. "Please, take my hand and lead me." She knelt down and placed her forehead on the ground, her hands clasped together in prayer. She had made it a habit to pray every day before getting up, and now she was praying for a change in her life.

As she prayed, Himavant's eyes were drawn to her. He felt a pang of sadness in his heart. "What's wrong, Kaveri?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you so sad?" He walked closer to her, his eyes fixed on her face.

Kaveri's eyes were closed, and her face was contorted in pain. "I'm tired of this life," she repeated, her voice shaking. "I want to know if there's a God who can take my hand and lead me." She opened her eyes and looked at Himavant. "Do you think help me?" she asked, her eyes searching for an answer.

Himavant's heart skipped a beat as he looked at her. He felt a surge of compassion for her. "Yes, there is a God," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "He's the one who can give you peace, comfort, and direction in life." Kaveri's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" she asked, her hope.

As they spoke, the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the village. Himavant's eyes were drawn to Kaveri's face, and he felt a sense of peace wash over him. He knew that he had to tell her the truth. "Kaveri, I've been reading a book," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It says that prayer can bring us peace and comfort." Kaveri's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" she asked, her voice filled with hope.

Himavant sat in the back seat of Shanthappa's scooter, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He had risen early that morning, and after a quick wash, had set out to buy a new dress for Prarthana. He had been thinking about it for a while now, and today was the day he had decided to buy it. to the market, and had picked out a beautiful dress, but now he was worried about how much it would cost. He had no idea how much money he had in his pocket, and he was afraid of overspending.

As he rode the scooter, he couldn't help but think about Prarthana. He had been in love with her for a long time, and he wanted to make her happy. thinking about proposing to her, but he was scared of rejection. He didn't know if she would say yes, and he was afraid of losing her.

As he approached the outskirts of Shivamogga, he saw a beautiful girl walking towards him. She was dressed in a simple white dress, and her hair was tied back in a ponytail. Himavant was immediately struck by her beauty, and he couldn't help but stare. He felt a pang of jealousy, and he wondered if Prarthana would ever look like that.

He shook his head, and continued to ride the scooter. He was getting close to Channarayapatna, and he knew that he would have to stop soon. He looked at the road ahead, and saw a group of people gathered near the bus stop. He slowed down the scooter, and pulled up to the side of the road.

As he got off the scooter, he saw Rasool Jamadar standing near the bus stop. He was a tall, thin man with a kind face, and Himavant knew him from the market. He walked up to him, and greeted him with a nod.

"Jamadar saheb, how are you?" Himavant asked, trying to sound casual.

"I'm fine, Himavant," Rasool replied, smiling. "What brings you here?"

"I'm on my way to Channarayapatna," Himavant said, trying to think of an excuse. "I need to pick up some medicine for my mother."

Rasool nodded, and looked at Himavant with a curious expression. "You're a good son, Himavant," he said. "But you know, I'm not just a Jamadar. I'm also a businessman. And I have a proposal for you."

Himavant's eyes widened in surprise, and he felt a surge of excitement. He had no idea what Rasool was going to say, but he was eager to hear it.

Himavant listened intently as Shantappa spoke. "Tell me, what do you want to know?" he asked. "If my dream comes true, I want to see the fruit of my labor, the first brick laid in this land; the first dividend on the investment you will make. it all, from the foundation to the rooftop, and now." Himavant's eyes sparkled with excitement as he spoke.

Prarthana looked up from her book, a Central Library novel, and smiled. "And what about the name of this place?" she asked. "Shantappa, will you agree to name it Prarthana Layout? Or perhaps Prarthana Park, Prarthana Community Hall, and Prarthana Hospital? I want to see my dream take shape, and it all now."

Himavant nodded, and Prarthana continued, "And what about the name of the street? Shall we name it after our ancestors, or perhaps after our village? The name is of no consequence, but I want to see my dream take shape, and it all now."

As they spoke, Himavant's mind wandered to the layout of the land. He had always been fascinated by architecture and design, and he had a vision for community. He wanted to create a place where people could live, work, and play, a place that was both functional and beautiful.

Prarthana, meanwhile, was lost in her book, her eyes scanning the pages with a look of intense concentration. She was a brilliant student, and she had a passion for learning that was unmatched. Himavant watched her with a smile, feeling a sense of pride and admiration for her.

As they sat there, a sense of excitement and anticipation filled the air. They were on the cusp of something new, something that would change their lives forever. And they knew that they were not alone. They had each other, and together, they could achieve anything.

The sound of a phone ringing broke the silence, and Prarthana quickly got up to answer it. She spoke briefly with the caller, and then hung up, a look of concern on her face. "It's my mother," she said. "She's not feeling well, and she needs me to come home."

Himavant nodded, and Prarthana quickly gathered her things and left. He watched her go, feeling a sense of sadness and worry. He knew that Prarthana's mother was not well, and he hoped that she would be okay.

As he sat there, he couldn't help but think about the layout of the community. He had a vision for it, a vision of a place where people could live, work, and play, a place that was both functional and beautiful. And he knew that he wanted to make it a reality, to create would bring joy and happiness to all who lived there.

The sound of a voice broke the silence, and Himavant looked up to see Rasool Jamadar, the village elder, standing in the doorway. "Himavant, I've come to talk to you about the layout of the community," he said. "I've been thinking a lot about it, and I have some ideas that I'd like to share with you."

Himavant nodded, and Rasool Jamadar began to speak, his voice filled with passion and conviction. "I think we should create a place that is both functional and beautiful," he said. "A place where people can live, work, and play, filled with joy and happiness. And I think we can do it, Himavant. that will be the envy of all who see it."

Himavant listened intently, his mind racing with ideas and possibilities. He knew that Rasool Jamadar was a man of vision, a man who saw the potential in people and places. And together, they could achieve anything.

Himavant looked at Prarthana, who was sitting on the couch, engrossed in biology. By the time the library closed, he had returned. He got up from the couch, "You're not an engineer, so don't pretend to be one. You've never done any business till now. You don't have a single paisa in your pocket. If you look at the shirt you're wearing, you'll realize it's not even a decent one. If you ask your neighbors, they'll tell you that you're the one who's always begging for help. Be sure to tell Shivamogga that I'm coming back to take over the next project. I'll project as soon as I get back. The brochure is almost ready to be printed. I'll be back in a day or two. If you're in a hurry, you can see the layout of the next project. Himavant is at least four years older than you. He's an engineering graduate, but he hasn't used his brains to create such a layout till now. If he had he would have completed such projects by now. at all. The rich people of Shivamogga have nothing to do with him. He just sits and makes small plans and gives them to you. He's a talented artist, but he's not smart enough to create such a layout. He's already talking about the next project. 'I don't have any more projects left. Whatever I do, I'll have to hand it over to someone else in five years. The day I finish my fifth project, I'll start living my own life. But Prarthana!' He got up and said this to the artist, who was sitting in front of him. If he had any doubts, he would have asked him to explain it to him. But he didn't. He just left. Prarthana followed him. When she came out of the library, the sky was darkening. The streetlights of Shivamogga were on. She was walking down the street, lost in thought. She didn't know where she was going.

If you could tell me the reason, I could understand. A minute's delay can be a nuisance; but for Prarthana's sake, I'll create a park that's a wonder of the world. Anyone, any man or woman, can sit there whenever they want and make their mind clear. It's near our village, Channarayapatna, and the name of the place is Himanshu. I'll walk there, and as I walk, I'll think of Prarthana, who's a little far away. When I'm walking in my dreams, I often see Himavant walking in front of me. Twice, his broad shoulders brushed against mine, and he smiled and said, 'Okay.' He was in a state of deep thought, lost in his dreams, and I was just a moment behind him. For the first time, I saw him wearing a lungi and a vest, and Prarthana was standing in front of him, a fair-skinned girl with a small torch in her hand. She was eating something, and I was hungry too. I thought I should lie down next to her, but I didn't want to disturb her. sweet, and I sour. finish my meal quickly, leave her alone in that small room. There was no bed, and make it difficult for her to get up. I thought, 'If I'm a little careful, she can also get up and we can leave together.' The moon was shining brightly in the sky, and I thought, 'Why should we stay here till midnight?' I called out to Himavant, but he was lost in his thoughts. He had forgotten about biology in a moment, and in two minutes, Prarthana had finished her meal. Himavant was never a man of emotions, great feelings.

On the night of the full moon, the sea was rough, and the windows of Shampappa's house were shaking. The sill of the window was the only support for Teresa, who was standing on it. She stretched out her hand to Himavant, below, and her hand was warm. Her body was trembling, and she was holding onto the window sill for support. She pulled Himavant up, and he caught her waist, which was as hard as a rock. He held her close, and she felt safe. He pulled her towards him, a sense of security. She felt like she was floating in the air, and Himavant was holding her tight. The wind was blowing, and they were swaying to and fro, but they were safe. They stood there for a moment, and then Himavant let go of her. She fell into his arms, and he caught her. He held her close, and she felt a sense of peace.

Himavant stood still, his eyes fixed on Prarthana, as if he had been struck by a bolt of lightning. He stood there for two minutes, his body stiff like a statue, his face expressionless. "May these moments be etched in my memory forever," he thought to himself. "May I never forget this moment."

Prarthana had told him that in this divine moment, she was not just a hospital nurse, but a goddess. She had asked him if he had ever seen a beauty like hers, one that could illuminate even the darkest of nights. Himavant had thought of their two-year-old son, Himanshu, who had been born with a sparkle in his eyes, and how he would grow up to be a brilliant doctor, just like his mother.

As they sat on the two armchairs in the hospital room, Himavant and Prarthana had been holding hands, their fingers intertwined, their eyes locked on each other. They had been sitting there for hours, lost in their own thoughts, their own emotions. But together, connected, like two souls meant to be together.

Just then, the door to the hospital room opened, and Rasool Jamadar, the hospital administrator, walked in. He was a stout man, with a cheerful smile on his face, and a spring in his step. He looked at Himavant and Prarthana, and nodded at them. "Good morning, Doctor," he said. "Good morning, Nurse," he added.

Himavant looked at Prarthana, and saw that she was still holding his hand, her fingers still intertwined with his. He felt a surge of love and affection for her, and he knew that he would never let her go. He looked at Rasool Jamadar, and smiled. "Good morning, sir," he said. "What brings you here today?"

Rasool Jamadar looked at Himavant, and then at Prarthana. "I've come to check on you, Doctor," he said. "You've been working non-stop for the past few days, and I want to make sure you're doing okay." Himavant nodded, and smiled. "I'm fine, sir," he said. "Just a little tired."

Prarthana looked at Himavant, and saw that he was still holding her hand. She felt a surge of love and affection for him, and she knew that she would never let him go. She looked at Rasool Jamadar, and smiled. "Thank you, sir," she said. "We're both fine."

Rasool Jamadar nodded, and smiled. "Good," he said. "I'm glad to hear that. Now, I have some papers to sign, and then I'll be on my way." Himavant "Okay, sir," he said. "I'll sign them."

As Rasool Jamadar walked out of the hospital room, Himavant turned to Prarthana, and smiled. "I'm glad he's gone," he said. "I don't want to talk to anyone else right now." Prarthana smiled, and nodded. "I know what you mean," she said. "I just want to be alone with you."

As they sat there, holding hands, their eyes locked on each other, Himavant felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over him. He knew that he had found his soulmate in Prarthana, and he was grateful for every moment they spent together.

But as he looked at Prarthana, he saw that she was still holding his hand, her fingers still intertwined with his. He felt a surge of love and affection for her, and he knew that he would never let her go. He looked at her, and smiled. "You know, Prarthana," he said. "I've been thinking."

Prarthana looked at Himavant, and saw that he was serious. She felt a surge of curiosity, and she leaned in closer to him. "What is it?" she asked.

Did I love Prarthana? Would I marry her? After all that had happened, it seemed as though I had been made to forget the truth. I caught a glimpse of Prarthana's eyes, which were a little distant, as if she was lost in thought. Now, she was just a young girl, about eight years old, who had been taken away from her home and brought here. Before leaving her home, no one had ever asked her any questions. if she loved someone or if she wanted to get married. I was the first one to ask her such questions. If I didn't love her, want to her, would she let me go? I didn't know; I had never asked her any questions. My questions had never been asked of me either. thought about them. if I loved Prarthana or not. What was love, anyway? Was it just a feeling that came and went like the wind? fleeting thought that came to mind while walking from one place to another? comfort that came from having a warm foot on a cold floor, or cool breeze on a hot day? Was it just a feeling giving someone a doctor's degree, or from giving them a comfortable life? I knew that there was an agreement between us, one that was better than any other agreement. But was that agreement love? I didn't think so. Love was not something that came from a sense of obligation. It a feeling of duty. It responsibility. It sense of duty.

Prarthana's dream had taken the form of a yoga-like union. It was a feeling that needed no explanation, like a love that was eternal. Could such a love occur between two blind people in the middle of nowhere? Prarthana had been thinking about her body, and Himavant's body, and it was the same thing. Strong arms; a straight back; a flat stomach; a chest with a patch of hair; eyes that were somehow both fierce and gentle; a dream that was so vivid it felt like a nightmare. How much did Himavant value his body, which was as hard as steel? If a girl was born, would she be born with a body that was as perfect as his? And if a boy he was as strong as his? Prarthana knew the value of bodies, and it was not just a matter of science books and diagrams. It was a unique experience. feeling that was beyond reason, beyond science, beyond logic. born out of devotion, love, hope, curiosity, and wonder. reduced to mere terror, and Prarthana wondered how old she would be if she felt this way. She was only 16, and she had never seen the world beyond her village. Her anna was a big man, and he was not rich. But he was a man who had a lot of hope, and he had taught Prarthana to draw rangoli on the floor of his room. She had drawn hundreds of pictures of parrots, and her atthi had been so proud of her that she had felt like she was on top of the world. Her atthi was a woman who was as simple as the earth, and she had never seen the world beyond her village. She wore a blue sari, and her eyes sparkled with pride when she looked at Prarthana. Prarthana anyone like her atthi before. was as calm as a lake, and her words were as gentle as a summer breeze. She was a woman who had never said a harsh word in her life, and her atthi's words were like a balm to Prarthana's soul. When Prarthana's atthi looked at her, she felt like she was the only person in the world. spoke, listening to a god. And smiled, seeing the sun rise over the mountains.

Himavant sat in the marriage house, his clothes spotless, his hair neatly tied in a bun. He had a small, delicate necklace around his neck, and he sat with a rare smile on his face. He was playing a game, laughing and making jokes, but he was also trying to finish all the things he had to do. His mother, Prarthana, was sitting next to him, her face half-asleep, just like her brother, Himavant.

Himavant's father, Rasool Jamadar, was sitting in front of him, his face beaming with pride, just like a proud father. His mother had decorated his feet with henna, and he was wearing a new pair of shoes. "Is it very happy here in this house, my daughter?" he asked, blessing him with a smile. His mother just nodded, half-asleep, just like her brother.

Prarthana was half-asleep, just like her brother, Himavant. She was still a child, only six years old, and learning to talk. Her mother, Yamantha, was a beautiful woman, with a face as smooth as a lotus flower. She was a good mother, always looking after her children, but she was also a bit strict. She had a habit of scolding her children, and Himavant was no exception.

As the night wore on, Prarthana's father, Rasool Jamadar, got up and went to bed. He was a bit tired, and he needed to rest. Himavant and Prarthana were left alone in the room, and they started to chat. Himavant was telling Prarthana about his day, and Prarthana was listening intently. She was a curious child, and she loved to hear stories about her brother's adventures.

But as the night wore on, Prarthana started to feel a bit scared. She was all alone in the room, and she didn't know what to do. She started to cry, and Himavant tried to comfort her. He sat down next to her and held her hand, trying to calm her down. But Prarthana was too scared, and she kept crying.

As the night wore on, the room became quiet. Himavant and Prarthana were both asleep, and the house was silent. But outside, the rain was pouring down, and the sound of the raindrops on the roof was like music to Prarthana's ears. She was a bit scared, but she was also happy, knowing that her brother was there to protect her.

The next morning, Himavant woke up early and got dressed. He was a bit tired, but he was also excited to go to school. Prarthana was still asleep, and Himavant decided to let her sleep a bit longer. He went downstairs and had breakfast, and then he left for school.

As he walked to school, Himavant thought about his sister, Prarthana. He was a bit worried about her, but he also knew that she was a strong child. She would be okay, he thought, and he continued on his way to school.

But as he walked, Himavant couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. He had a bad feeling, and he didn't know what it was. He quickened his pace, trying to get to school as fast as he could. But as he walked, the feeling only grew stronger, and he knew that something was very wrong.

It was not possible for Prarthana to answer the question of how all this was possible. "How much can you see, Prarthana? Are you not even able to see the tears welling up in my eyes? The moment I called out to you, were already gone, leaving me to my fate. Did hear the sound of my wailing, which echoed through the house like a mournful cry? It was as if you had never been here at all. You had left own devices, and I was left to face the darkness alone.

As I looked at you, I saw a divine happiness on your face, a happiness that was beyond anything I had ever seen before. It was as if you had finally found peace, and it filled your entire being. I knew that you would not be able to leave me, to abandon me like this. But my brother was like a half-cooked meal, incomplete and unsatisfying. He shirt that had been torn in half, leaving me with nothing but a gaping hole.

I was shocked by the change in you, Prarthana. You had always been so full of life and energy, but now you were like a shadow of your former self. I knew that something was wrong, terribly wrong. I could see the pain in your eyes, the pain that was eating away at your very soul. river that had been dammed up, its waters overflowing and causing destruction everywhere.

I tried to talk to you, to ask you what was wrong, but you just shook your head and looked away. You were like a statue, unmoving and unresponsive. I knew that I had to do something, find a way to bring you back to me. So I ran to your room, my heart pounding in my chest, and asked you a single question: "Mother, what has happened to you? Why have you left me like this?"

But you just looked at me with those empty eyes, and I knew that you were gone. You were like a ghost, a spirit that had left its body behind. I was left alone, left to face the darkness and the pain that was consuming me. I was like a ship without a rudder, adrift in a stormy sea. I did not know what to do, or where to turn. All I could do was sit in the corner of the room, staring at your empty chair, and weep.

Himavant was running away from the incident, but he had been planning to hate Prarthana from the very beginning. In the morning light, he was still looking at Prarthana, and her mind was not on Teresa. There was no intimacy between them.

Prarthana had not been able to forget Himavant even on the outskirts of Channarayapatna; despite some internal turmoil, she had started telling Yamunatthi about Himavant as they walked together in the darkness. Her heart was heavy with the thought of her father, and her words were about to spill out of her mouth. If her mind was not at peace, she would not be able to bear the pain. But; emotions are a double-edged sword. If you don't let go of them, they will consume you. Prarthana was crying bitterly in the darkness, and Himavant, who was with her, was also crying, holding her hand and pressing his head against her chest. He was trying to find a solution to her problem, but he knew that a love born out of pain would not last until the day when it would bring happiness. If she felt that it was necessary for her, then love would sprout in her heart and grow into a tree. "It's not possible to live without telling Himavant about this situation," she thought. "I have to tell him." That's why she had made up her mind to leave Channarayapatna that day. But; when the police Jamadar stood in front of them, blocking their path, a decision to stay with him for the rest of her life. "What's the point of all this?" she thought. "Was I just pretending to be in love with Himavant from the moment I left my house in Channarayapatna? Was I just using those words to defend myself when the police Jamadar stopped us? Is love a defense? It's not a defense, Himavant. I started loving you from the day we met, and I've been in love with you ever since."

How can I forget you even for a moment? Even after all these years, I never loved anyone like I loved you. Just thinking about it makes me realize that I must have been a fool to have let you go. If I had known that you would be leaving me, I would have been more patient, understanding. But I didn't know, and now it's too late.

You left me, and I was left with nothing but memories of you. I thought I could bear it, but it was like a hell on earth. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I couldn't think of anything else but you. And then I saw you again, and dream come true. just a dream, a fleeting moment of happiness before reality set in.

You told me to leave the house, to go out into the world and find my own way. You said that I had to be brave, strong. But I didn't want to be strong, brave. I wanted to be with you, to hold your hand and walk with you through life. But you said no, had to go out and make my own way.

I remember the day you left, I was sitting in the courtyard, and I was crying. I didn't know what to do, where to go. And then I saw you, standing in the doorway, looking at me with those beautiful eyes. You told me to be brave, to be strong, and I knew that I had to go out and find my own way.

But now, as I look back, I realize that I was wrong to have let you go. doubted you, to have doubted our love. You were right, you were always right. You were the one who knew what was best for me, I needed.

I remember the way you used to talk to me, look at me. You had this sparkle in your eye, this smile on your face, and I knew that I was the luckiest person in the world to have you by my side. And now, I'm left with nothing but memories of you, and I don't know how to go on.

You asked me to tell you what I felt, what I thought. I told you that I loved you, that I believed in you. But now, I'm not so sure. I'm not sure if it was love, or just a dream. real, fantasy.

As I sit here, thinking about you, I realize that I'm not sure of anything. what I feel, what I think. what's real, what's not. All I know is that I miss you, that I wish you were here with me.

What a deceitful act he had committed on himself? If it were Narasimayya, he would have been able to get away with all this by just apologizing. But Himavant sat there, staring at the star-filled sky, not answering Prarthana's question, not even once. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice Prarthana's silence, which was unusual for her. She was the kind of person who would never be silent, especially not in a situation like this.

If he had left the house without Prarthana, who would have been left behind, he able to blame it on his love for her. But because of the unbearable atmosphere inside, the situation. But he didn't leave the house, not even once. He didn't even think about leaving

But he did leave the house, not once, not twice, but four days before the entrance exam was scheduled to take place. He had gone to the center where the exam would be held and had taken care of all the formalities. He had even brought Prarthana's documents from her college in Channarayapatna. He had been so careful and meticulous that made coffee for Prarthana and had sat with her while she studied.

Himavant sat beside Prarthana, reading each and every word on the page as if it was a sacred text. His attention was so focused that it seemed to have transcended mere interest, and had reached a realm beyond. What was it, that intense focus? Was it love? Prarthana had made up her mind not to be anxious about the outcome of the exam, which had finally come to an end. Himavant had been so exhausted from the day's sleepless night, and the fatigue was evident in his eyes. But as he read the file on the table, every word seemed to have come alive The exam had been a grueling one, but Himavant had written it with a confidence that had exceeded his own expectations, and he was filled with a sense of satisfaction. Prarthana, on the other hand, was still uncertain about the outcome. She had been so anxious about the exam, and had been on tenterhooks, waiting for the results. Himavant had been certain that she would pass, but now that the exam was over, he was no longer so sure. "What if I'm wrong?" he thought to himself, his brow furrowed in concern. "What if I've misjudged the situation?" Prarthana, too, was thinking along similar lines. She had been so caught up in her own anxiety that she had forgotten to think about the bigger picture. "Should I just let things take their course?" she thought, her mind racing with possibilities. As they sat there, lost in their own thoughts, the bus rumbled on, carrying them towards their destination. They were headed to Gajanur, a place famous for its dam, which was a marvel of engineering. The dam was a massive structure, with a vast expanse of water behind it. As they walked along the road, Prarthana couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer scale of the dam. It was as if the water was a living, breathing entity, with waves crashing against the shore. Himavant, too, was struck by the beauty but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about Prarthana, and the uncertainty that still lingered in his mind. As they reached the bus stop, Himavant turned to Prarthana and asked, "Shall I get down here?" Prarthana nodded, and Himavant got down from the bus, taking Prarthana's hand in his. As they walked towards the dam, Prarthana couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. She knew that Himavant was still uncertain about their relationship, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to face the consequences. But as they reached the dam, Himavant turned to her and asked, "Do you love me?" Prarthana's heart skipped a beat as she looked into his eyes. She knew that this was a moment of truth, and she had to be honest with herself. "Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."

He didn't speak, "What are you thinking? Take his arm and bring it to your hands, and listen to his voice in an inimitable tone, Prarthana. "I'm not thinking of anything. There's nothing to think about. All you need to do is experience it. Don't you know, Prarthana? Today, I'm just going to write down the correct things that have happened so far. 'Perhaps, at this very moment, there was another girl, who was as close to me as you are, and was living with me. How long has it been since she left? Maybe she too was clinging to me like you are. Why did she get up and leave? Let me see, if I can recall how she was. There's nothing to remember. It's been years since my mother passed away. If I had you by my side today, I would have forgotten all about that feeling. It's just that I'm not used to being without you. I feel a bit uneasy. What can I do? I feel like I'm going to forget everything. I'm not even sure if I can write down the details.

Himavant said, "Even if I had told you the name of the place where my mother's memory is, you wouldn't have known it. 'There's nothing' I said, and he finished speaking.

I don't know if there's a god who listens to my prayers. But you're right in front of me. There's no need to write down anything in detail. I love you more than I love any human being. I'll keep this in mind until the end of my life, Prarthana. Be careful, be careful. There was a small piece of paper on his bedside table, and another one in his bag. Prarthana was singing a song outside in the garden, and it made me feel a bit uneasy. I got up and went to the window to look at her, but I didn't want to disturb her. I was about to go back to bed when I saw the small piece of paper on the bedside table. I had read it five times, but I still couldn't understand what it said."

How beautiful she looked! She had risen early in the morning, before even waking up properly, and had finished her bath in the well at the corner of the house. She knew that it was impossible to wash her long hair easily. Her hair was tangled like a snake that had been coiled up, and if it got caught in something, it would be a big nuisance. So, she had tied it up with a thread and wrapped a thin cloth around it, making it look like a bangle made of gold. If she had risen from the house of Shanthappa, her father-in-law, it would have been a common sight to see her standing in the courtyard, singing a song. But, if she was field, it would be a strange singing for the people passing by on the road. She was so engrossed in her singing that she didn't even notice when someone entered the room. "Oh, what a wonderful song she is singing! She must have been a great singer even when she was studying for her MBBS. It's not easy to learn music, even for someone with a good brain. But, becoming a doctor is not that easy either. If she had finished her studies and gone back to Shivamogga, it would have been okay. But, she is here, in Hassan, and is singing with such passion. Oh, how wonderful she is!" Shivamogga was saying to himself, completely absorbed in the beauty of Prarthana's singing. But, Prarthana was not singing for the sake of Shivamogga or anyone else. She was singing for herself, and her joy was evident in her voice. She was so lost in her singing that she didn't even notice when someone entered the room. with such abandon that it was as if she was singing for the first time. Her husband, Himavant, had written a letter to her, but she hadn't even noticed it. She had read it, but it had left her unmoved. She had seen the look of disappointment on his face, not affected her.

It was as if the letter was the answer to the silence that had fallen between them, and Himavant thought it was not right to just sit there. "You take a bath and finish, I'll go to Nandakkan's house and tie a garland of mallige flowers," he said, handing her a note and leaving the room.

After a while, he heard Prarthana's laughter, a gentle, melodious sound that filled the room. He came out of his room, and saw her sitting in the same spot, her eyes shining with amusement. "If you think it's necessary to take a private bath, then go to Nandakkan's house," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But if you're just going to sit here and tie flowers, then I'll be happy too."

Himavant's face fell, and he looked at her with a mixture of surprise and disappointment. He had never seen her like this before, and it took him aback. He tried to compose himself, but his face still showed his emotions.

Prarthana's eyes sparkled with mirth, and she couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him. She was a tiny thing, and Himavant was a giant of a man, with broad shoulders and a chest that seemed to be carved out of stone. He was a man who commanded respect, and yet, in this moment, he looked like a child who had been scolded.

His chest was broad and muscular, and his arms were like tree trunks. He had a small scar on his left shoulder, a souvenir from a childhood accident. Himavant's face was a map of his life, with every experience etched on his features. He was a man who had seen his share of struggles, and yet, he had emerged unscathed.

Prarthana's eyes were fixed on his chest, and she couldn't help but notice the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin. She had always been fascinated by his physique, and now, she felt a pang of desire. She looked away, trying to compose herself, but she couldn't shake off the feeling.

Himavant, on the other hand, was oblivious to her gaze. He was too busy trying to calm himself down, to compose his emotions. He took a deep breath, and tried to focus on the task at hand. He had to go to the river, to take a bath, and then come back to the house. He couldn't let his emotions get the better of him, not now, not when face the day ahead.

As he left the room, Prarthana's eyes followed him, her gaze lingering on his broad shoulders. She felt a pang of longing, a desire to be with him, to be close to him. She pushed the feeling aside, telling herself she was being foolish. Himavant was her father, after all, and she was just a child. She had no business feeling this way.

But the feeling lingered, a persistent ache that she couldn't shake off. She looked away, trying to focus on the task at hand. She had to get ready for the day, to help her mother with the household chores. She couldn't let her emotions get the better of her, not now, not when face the day ahead.

As she got up from her seat, Himavant's voice echoed through the room, "Don't forget to eat lunch, Prarthana. I'll be back soon." His voice was gentle, but firm, and Prarthana felt a pang of guilt. She had forgotten about lunch, and now, she hunger. She smiled to herself, feeling a little more composed. She would eat lunch, and then help her mother with the chores. She would get through the day, one step at a time.

Himavant was like a mole that had eaten its fill, and at that moment, she was as radiant as the Nandaka rain shower, making the day divine; she didn't even think of going to the house of dreams; she stayed in the eighth compartment itself, completely lost in her thoughts, measuring the threads of her life; Himavant was coming to life. In the courtyard of the garage, Prarthana was busy laying the lime plaster, not even noticing that she had stopped working; she was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't even realize become a human being, a being of lime plaster, dust and stone.

Himavant's eyes sparkled with excitement as he watched Prarthana walk into the room. She was wearing a new dress, a kanakambara-colored sari, and her hair was neatly tied up. He couldn't help but notice the way the light from the lamp highlighted her features. As she walked towards him, he felt a surge of happiness and pride. He had never seen her look so beautiful before.

Prarthana smiled at Himavant and sat down beside him. They had been together for a while now, and their relationship had become more serious. Himavant had promised to take care of her and provide for her, and he was determined to keep his word.

As they sat together, Himavant couldn't help but think about the future. He knew that he had to find a job soon, and he was worried about how he would provide for Prarthana. He had always dreamed of being a successful person, but now he was faced with the reality of making a living.

Prarthana noticed the look on Himavant's face and asked him what was wrong. Himavant hesitated, not wanting to burden her with his worries. But Prarthana's gentle tone put him at ease, and he began to open up to her.

"I'm just worried about the future," he said, trying to sound casual. "I don't know how I'll be able to provide for you."

Prarthana's expression softened, and she took his hand in hers. "Don't worry, Himavant," she said. "We'll face it together. We'll figure it out as we go along."

Himavant felt a surge of gratitude towards Prarthana. She was always so supportive and understanding, and he knew that he could count on her no matter what. He smiled at her, feeling a sense of relief wash over him.

As they sat together, the silence between them was comfortable. They didn't need to talk to each other; they just enjoyed each other's company. After a while, Prarthana got up and went to the kitchen to make some tea. Himavant followed her, and they sat down together to drink their tea.

As they sipped their tea, Himavant couldn't help but think about how much he loved Prarthana. She was his everything, and he knew that he would do anything to make her happy. He felt a sense of contentment wash over him, knowing that he had found his soulmate in Prarthana.

The evening passed quickly, and soon it was time for Himavant to leave. He walked Prarthana to the door, and they shared a tender kiss. As he watched her go back inside, he felt a sense of sadness wash over him. He didn't want the evening to end, but he knew that he had to go.

As he walked back to his room, Himavant couldn't help but think about the future. He knew that he had a long way to go, but he was determined to make a success of himself. He was going to work hard, and make sure that Prarthana was happy. He smiled to himself, feeling a sense of determination and purpose.

Himavant and Prarthana were lying down, but neither of them had the chance to sleep. One of them turned back and used Prarthana as a pillow; tonight, for this letter, you must answer me in these sleepless minutes, young one. Lying in the same bed, Himavant was thinking about how to say it to Prarthana, and just then, he whispered to her, "Himoo, do you love me so much that you would tell me if I am in trouble?" Turning towards him, Prarthana listened to him for a moment in that corner. Time stood still. Himavant, instead of answering her, slowly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him. His warm breath, the rise and fall of his strong chest, and the scent of the earth that clung to his body, completely enveloped Prarthana. "Himoo, Himoo," he whispered, his voice trembling. Prarthana, with a tender touch, buried her face in the folds of his shirt, her body swaying with the rhythm of their hearts beating together. For the rest of the night, they did not sleep. But when Prarthana woke up to the morning light, there was a small note on the trunk of the tree, tied with a mallige flower. Himavant got up quickly. "Oh, Prarthana, the devil has turned into a rakshasa. What is this sleepless night? But we have enough devotion and faith to ward off the rakshasa from both of us. The touch of each other is now the only thing that can save us. Prarthana, you are not just a body; touch. You are the sum of all these things. Doctor, Prarthana is needed. I have to live until our curse is broken, until the name of the sin is erased from my letter. Oh, bear the weight of this answer. Prarthana wrapped herself in a warm blanket.

As the seasons went by, Himavant's life was like a spring that had blossomed in full glory. He had taken it for granted that Prarthana would get a medical seat, just as she seat. It was a certainty, like the flow of the Kaveri River. No one could doubt it. In a world where everyone was equal, where no one was superior to anyone else, there was still a hint of arrogance in Himavant's voice. He was convinced that he could fool anyone, that no one could outsmart him. But, as he said, "If you can't fool God, who can you fool?" The members of the hospital administration board, including the president, Shankarappa Savarkar, were all aware of Prarthana's situation. At least three of them knew her personally, and two of them visited her house every week. Shankarappa Savarkar, in particular, had been visiting her house for years, and he knew her like the back of his hand. He would often say, "If I call her, she'll come running." But now, he was in a hurry, and he didn't have the time to wait for her. He had called her and told her to come to the hospital, but she had not responded. He had sent her a message, "Come, I'll take care of you." replied. Shankarappa Savarkar was getting anxious, and he didn't know what to do. He had tried calling her again, but she was not picking up her phone. He was starting to get worried, sent her a message again, "Come, I'll take care of you." But she had not replied. Shankarappa Savarkar was getting frustrated, and he didn't know what to do. desperate, angry, do. He had tried calling her again, but

Himavant's heart was filled with a sense of satisfaction, as if he had achieved his first major victory. He looked at Prarthana, who was sitting beside him, with a smile on her face, like a parrot. She was adorned with all the trinkets he had given her, and her eyes sparkled with joy. Himavant couldn't bear to see her happiness marred, even for a moment.

He thought to himself, "I am not the kind of person who would make a promise to anyone, let alone a girl, and then go back on it. I have never been one to make a vow and then break it. But this time, I have made Prarthana, and I will keep it, no matter what."

He asked her, "Prarthana, do you remember the day we went to the Gavi Mutt in Channarayapatna? You told me that if you got a medical seat, you would come back to the Mutt and spend a night on the floor, without telling anyone. You said you would do it, and I believed you."

Prarthana's eyes widened in surprise, and she looked at Himavant with a mixture of excitement and curiosity. "Yes, I remember," she said. "I told you that, and you believed me. But why are you asking me now?"

Himavant's face lit up with a smile. "I am asking you because I want to know if you are still willing to do it. come back to the Mutt and spend a night on the floor, without telling anyone. keep your promise to me."

Prarthana's heart skipped a beat as she looked at Himavant. She knew that he was serious, and not just asking her out of curiosity. He was asking her because he wanted to know if she was still committed to their plan, and willing to take the risk.

Himavant asked, "Is it over?" You called me and I came to one gavimath alone. I walked into the gavimath even with a tiger's den. What if I had taken your hand and walked with you tonight? You wouldn't have forgotten the night we spent at the gavimath, would you? My mind is completely turned towards you, my longing for you is as intense as a cry, and it's not just because of the curse. The curse is as much mine as it is yours. We got up early the next morning, had breakfast, and boarded a bus from Beeroor. We had two bananas and some water, and it seemed like we had eaten a meal. We crossed Kaddoor and reached the banks of the Bannavara. We also returned the small Bannavara to its original place, and then Himavant got up, looking tired, and asked the driver to stop the bus. The place where the bus stopped was not a big open space; it was a short distance from Cheluvanalli, where the gavimath is located. If it had been daylight, one could have seen the gavimath from there. But it was dark, and the gavimath was surrounded by darkness from all sides. It was as if it was about to sink into the darkness. If there were anyone inside the gavimath, they would have been in a state of panic. But there was no one the gavimath had been abandoned. We crossed the Channarayapatna hoblies and the railway track and were approaching the Bendekere area when Prarthana's eyes began to droop. If she had taken two more steps, she would have reached Cheluvanalli. But she was tired, and her eyes were drooping. It was almost evening, and the night was approaching. The darkness was spreading to the gavimath from all sides. If there was anyone inside the gavimath, they would have been in a state of panic. We reached the gavimath, and Himavant sat down on a stone bench at the entrance. I sat down next to him, and we both looked at the darkness. It was as if we were waiting for something to happen. The darkness was so thick that one couldn't see anything. I was thinking that to wait here for a while, we might get some light. But it was not to be. too thick, and we Just then, a voice called out from the entrance of the gavimath. "Chandrashekhara!" It was a old man's voice. He was standing at holding a lantern in his hand. His face was also lit up by the lantern, and he looked like a ghost. He called out again, "Chandrashekhara!" But there was no response. and this time his voice was louder. still no response. The old man looked at us, and his eyes were fixed on us. He took a step forward, and the lantern in his hand cast a strange glow on the darkness.

The old man's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as he asked, "Himavant, how old are you? A hundred years or more? You must be Chandrashekhara, the one who has come from Shivamogga."

He spoke with a tone that was both familiar and yet, utterly foreign to Himavant. The old man's face was a map of wrinkles, etched deep into his skin like the lines on a well-worn book. His eyes, though sunken, still held a glint of intelligence, and his voice was like the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind.

Himavant was taken aback by the old man's words. He had expected a more formal greeting, but instead, the old man had spoken with a familiarity that bordered on the intimate. As he looked at he noticed the way his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, and his voice was like the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind.

The old man's words were laced with a subtle humor, and Himavant couldn't help but smile. He had never met anyone like this old man before, and he found himself drawn to his warm and gentle demeanor. As he looked at the old man, he felt a sense of ease wash over him, and he knew that he had found a kindred spirit.

The old man's eyes seemed to bore into Himavant's very soul, as if searching for something deep within him. Himavant felt a shiver run down his spine as gaze lingered on him, and he knew that he was being sized up, measured and weighed. But the old man's expression was kind, and his eyes sparkled with a warmth that put Himavant at ease.

As the old man continued to speak, Himavant found himself becoming more and more entranced by his words. The old man's voice was like a gentle stream, flowing smoothly and effortlessly, and his words were laced with a wisdom that was both profound and comforting. Himavant felt his mind expanding, as if it was being stretched to its limits, and he knew that he was in the presence of someone truly special.

The old man's words were like a balm to Himavant's soul, soothing his worries and calming his fears. He felt a sense of peace wash over him, and he knew that he had found a true friend in this old man. As he looked at the old man, gratitude, would never forget this encounter.

The old man's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as he asked, "Himavant, what brings you to this place? Are you here to seek the blessings of the gods, or to find solace in the silence of the night?" His voice was like a gentle breeze, rustling the leaves of Himavant's heart, and his words were laced with a wisdom that was both profound and comforting.

As the old man continued to speak, Himavant found himself becoming more and more entranced by his words. The old man's voice was like a gentle melody, playing a tune that was both familiar and yet, utterly new. His words were laced with a wisdom profound and comforting, and Himavant felt his heart filling with a sense of peace and tranquility.

The old man's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as he asked, "Himavant, what is it that you seek? Is it knowledge, or is it wisdom? Or perhaps, it is something more?" His voice was like a gentle breeze, rustling the leaves of Himavant's heart, and his words were laced with a wisdom that was both profound and comforting.

What are you going to do? They are going to leave, aren't they? Or perhaps stay. The world is like a great ocean, full of mysteries, especially on a dark moonless night. If someone were to ask me where I was going, I would say to the Gavi Matha temple; and why there, to eat. to eat the prasada of the temple, and that would be the truth. After eating, I was sitting there, and then I saw you; For someone who has come here, a small word is enough; a nod of the head; a gesture of the hand; a sign of the feet. That's all. No one speaks a word. I lay my head on the pillow and fall asleep. It's the same for everyone. If someone were to ask me why I came here, I would say I came to eat; and why I was eating, the prasada of the temple. But the fact is, I am Chandrashekhara, and I have come here to eat.

Chandrashekhara looked at the old man with a puzzled expression. "Ajjappa, you are silent. You don't speak to Himavant. Such a mystery has been following him since birth. Where is Alisandra? Where is the Gavi Matha temple? Is it a coincidence that you came here? Or I came here and ate? But the fact is, I am Chandrashekhara, and I have come here to eat. I didn't ask you any questions when but I did ask you questions when I went to sleep. I didn't think that such a hundred and one mysteries could happen in the future. What is this harake? Himavant didn't get up, and he didn't go to the Gadduge inside the Gavi Matha temple. He didn't pick a flower, tie a string to his angavastra. He didn't even tie a knot. The old man, who was lying on the Gadduge, got up and went to sleep. Prarthana, other side, the other corner. She was fast asleep. didn't even open his eyes. He

What if; Himavant's share was as much as the rest, or at least a promise, or even guarantee - was it not ultimately just a word? But love is nothing but love; it is not just love, it is responsibility, it is hard work. Love is; that one has to toil and toil for her, and find satisfaction in it itself! All that was clear to the one who had no doubts; Himavant had gone to bed with a clear head, with his head on the pillow, and now he was awake, and it was morning. "Chandrashekhara, I'm coming, I'm coming!" he exclaimed, jumping out of bed. In the room, the old monk was sitting on a chair, with a single lantern on his head, and he was welcoming him with a smile; it was true that he had expected him, and called him here; but the old monk's words had a mysterious undertone that Himavant did not understand. "Even if you become a doctor, we will live for a century, we will live," he said with a laugh, and then he said, "Oh, Chandrashekhara, I'm coming, but not for your sake, but for the sake of this girl." This time, there was no response from the old monk, and his words were like a prophecy; Himavant did not feel a shiver down his spine, even if he had felt it, he could not have done anything about it. Life is a very big thing, and it was slipping away from him. At that time, Himavant and Prarthana were still in the monastery, and they had not yet left it; they had seen the monastery, which was not clearly visible, again and again, without ever getting tired of sat on the top of a hill, on two wooden logs of a mango tree, and had sat there, trying to clear their minds; the old monk had called them, and they had gone to him, and he had spoken to listened to him, understood nothing.

Himavant's mind was numb. His thoughts were more vibrant than ever before, but he was more subdued As the evening approached, he would sit with his eyes fixed on Prarthana, waiting for her to leave. Even if the topic of conversation didn't come up, he would still be anxious about her departure the next morning. He knew that she had to go to Davanagere, and he had to stay away from her. This feeling was constantly nagging him, and it made him restless.

As he sat in the veranda, his mother's old wooden chair creaking beneath him, he felt a lump in his throat. He couldn't bear the thought of Prarthana leaving him, and he couldn't help but think of her touch, her caress, her kisses. pang of longing in his chest, and his eyes welled up with tears. He tried to hold back, but let them flow.

"Why would you leave me, Himavant?" Prarthana asked, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're not even going to come with me to Davanagere? What if I never see you again?" Himavant's silence was his answer. He couldn't bear the thought of being apart from her, and he didn't know how to express his feelings.

As the evening wore on, Prarthana's questions became more insistent. "Are you going to leave me, Himavant? Are let me go without even trying to stop me?" Himavant's silence was his answer, and Prarthana's eyes filled with tears.

But Himavant's mind was made up. He knew that he had to stay in Shivamogga, at least for now. finish his studies, and he couldn't afford to leave his family behind. it was a long way from Shivamogga to Davanagere, and he didn't want to be apart from Prarthana for so long.

As the night wore on, Himavant and Prarthana sat in silence, their eyes fixed on each other. They both knew that they had to say goodbye, but they didn't know how to do it. They were both lost in their own thoughts, and express their feelings.

Finally, Himavant spoke up. "I'll stay here, Prarthana. I'll finish my studies, and I'll wait for you to come back." Prarthana's eyes lit up with hope, and she smiled. "I'll come back, Himavant. I promise." And with that, they both knew that they had to say goodbye.

Himavant was lying on the bed. He didn't look like he had slept the whole night. He had gotten up early in the morning, taken his bag, and left for Davanagere. Even when the children left, he didn't say a word. He seemed to be doing everything mechanically, as if he was a machine. It seemed like he had lost all interest in life. He had taken care of all the college admission formalities on his own; he had even spoken to the college administration. There was no sign of disappointment or frustration on his face. But his eyes told a different story. They seemed to be empty, devoid of any emotion. By the time it was afternoon, all the work related to Prarthana's college admission was over. The two of them had finished their lunch at a hotel in Davanagere and were about to leave. Prarthana looked more stable than she had the previous day. She wasn't crying, but she looked like she had lost all her energy. She seemed to be walking like an old person, as if every step was a struggle. If she had to take another step, she would collapse, thought Himavant. Once, he looked into her eyes, and what he saw was a river of tears. He took her hands in his, and she didn't pull them away. He didn't know what to say, but he knew she wasn't lying to him. Her eyes were like a river that had overflowed its banks. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and said, "I didn't deceive you, Himavant." And then she looked down, her eyes welling up with tears. She took a step forward, and Himavant followed her. As they walked, the shadows of the trees grew longer. Himavant was walking behind her, and he felt like he was walking into a dark tunnel. He didn't know what was waiting for him at the end of the tunnel. Prarthana walked into the hostel, and Himavant followed her. As soon as she entered her room, she collapsed onto the bed, her body shaking with sobs. Himavant sat down next to her, holding her hands. He didn't know what to say, but he knew she needed him.

Shantappa used to say that it was not right for someone to be alone in the middle of nowhere. Prarthana's success had created so many enemies in the town. He the real estate world was a jungle, and this young boy didn't know the rules of the game. He had bought a plot of land outside the town and was planning to sell it. If he sold the plot, he would make a lot of money, but if he didn't sell it, he would have to pay for it. The builders in Shivamogga used to make fun of him, saying that he would sell the plot and run away from the town. They used to say go bankrupt if he didn't But Prarthana had proved them all wrong. She had sold made a lot of money.

Himavant had become a man of sorrow, a being devoid of hope, since he had left the college in Davanagere. He had become as brittle as a piece of graphite, and his eyes had lost their sparkle, just like Prarthana, who had not been able to visit him even once since he had moved to the farm. The middle-class people of Shivamogga would gather around him, mesmerized by his calm demeanor and the sincerity in his eyes, and their faith in him would increase. As he sat there, watching the trucks carrying cement, sand, and stones, he would mutter to himself, "What's the use of building?" His hand would tremble with excitement, but he knew that he couldn't bring himself to take in the homeless man who had been left behind, like a discarded piece of cloth.

He had built a small room on top of the godown he had constructed, and it was his only refuge. He had made sure that Prarthana would not know that he was living there, and that she would not visit him, even if she came to the farm. a deal with his wife, promising to work as a laborer and eat with the farmhands, just to avoid being alone with Prarthana. But he knew that he was condemning himself to a life of loneliness, a fate worse than death.

Prarthana had written a letter to him from Davanagere, and in it, she had written the same phrase, "ದೇವರಿಗಾ?" (What for God?) over and over again, signing it with a flourish. Himavant had read that phrase a hundred and seventeen times, and it had become etched in his mind like a mantra. As he sat on the farm, gazing up at the stars, he would ask himself the same question, "What for God?"

What's the reason for this? Someone had said, "Is it not a sin to deceive God?" Himavant was taken aback, wondering why he had been deceived so. He had never seen Himavant before, always busy working from dawn to dusk, his body worn out. If he lay down on the ground, his back on the floor, and closed his eyes, he would be dead. He was like a statue, a switch turned off in his mind. He had never slept a wink, not even for a moment, until now. He lay on a single mat, his body hot, his body aching. Even when Prarthana slept beside him, he couldn't sleep, he was always restless.

Just then, the iron door of the room creaked open and someone had entered. The sky outside was a deep blue, like a mother's womb, and the earth was full of light, but in the room, it was dark. He got up and went out to fetch Prarthana's letter, which she had written in the light of the moon. He had read it a dozen times, but he couldn't see anything in it. It was just a simple letter, "Is it not a sin to deceive God? We can't deceive God. Prarthana believed that she had done nothing wrong. She had sent him to college, arranged for her hostel, and taught her the mantra of self-discipline. She had given him five years of her life, and he had spent them all in trying to educate her. He had thought that he had done everything for her, but now he realized nothing.

He thought that he had given her everything, but now he realized nothing. been her god, was nothing. All her prayers, her wishes, her confessions, her requests were all for him. He was the one she had prayed to, asked for everything. But now, he realized that he had done nothing for her. He had been deceived by his own ego, his own pride. He had thought that he was her god, but now was nothing.

Just then, he heard a faint cry, "Prarthana, you didn't deceive me, did you?" He looked down and saw Prarthana lying on the ground, her eyes closed, her body trembling. He had never seen her like this before. so weak, so helpless. vulnerable. broken. defeated. crushed. destroyed.

Himavant sat in the car's backseat in the morning's golden light. He had been humiliated by a girl's rejection, and that question had not even occurred to him. Fifteen days before he was to leave for Davanagere; that very day, Prarthana had stood up from the chapa on the veranda and gone into the courtyard; a strand of her hair had fallen on her shoulder, and Himavant had picked it up with his two fingers in that instant; a seed of doubt had sprouted in him. What was he supposed to do with it? If he had picked up the two strands of hair that had fallen on the ground, they would have looked like two dark circles. Prarthana was singing a bhavageete in the courtyard, and as she walked towards Shanthappa's hands, Himavant got up and went towards the well; he had been carrying an old trunk with him for years, and in its bottom, there was a small, dark-colored tin canister with a lid on it; he opened the lid, and inside, he found a small, white beetle; if he had taken the beetle out with his finger and cleaned it, would have looked like a dead eye; where was it supposed to be taken? To his aunt's house?

All these things were running through his mind, and he was getting anxious; he got up and went to the well, and the memory of the well's rough stone wall with a few pebbles in it came back to him; he had thrown the tin canister with the beetle into it had fallen with a splash; he had picked it up and brought it back to the house, but he had not been able to get rid of the doubt; now, he was holding the canister in his hand again, and it was still there, a reminder of his old trunk and the tin canister with the beetle that had been in it since then; he did not know why his father had kept it; remember his father's face; but he remembered the two strands of hair that had fallen from Prarthana's head, and the moment he had picked them up; he had not thought about anything else at that time.

Himavant wondered why Prarthana had done that. She had taken the can with the tightly closed lid from the trunk of the cab and had put a small bunch of her hair into it. Why had she done that? Himavant couldn't get an answer to this question. It was not just that he but he also couldn't understand why she had done it.

Prarthana was a girl with thick, curly hair. If she tied her hair up in a bun, a few strands would always come loose and fall down. Himavant would pick them up and put them into the can. But this time, she had taken the can and had put her hair into it herself. And now, the can was sealed and Himavant couldn't get an answer from her.

Himavant didn't believe that humans could deceive God. He thought that God knew everything. But he also knew that he had once lied to God. He had lied when he was a boy and had been caught by been punished for it.

Himavant remembered the incident. He had been caught by God in the courtyard of the house. made to dig a hole with a stick. The hole was about three feet deep and had a small, plastic cover on it. Himavant put a can with a tightly closed lid into the hole and had been told to cover it with soil.

Himavant had been punished for lying to God. He had been made to dig the hole and had been told to put the can into it. He cover it with soil warned that if he didn't, he would be punished again. Himavant had been scared and had done what he was told.

Now, Himavant was thinking about the can that Prarthana had put her hair into. He why she had done it and what would happen to her hair. He was worried about her and wanted to know what was going to

If that had not happened, would Prarthana's life have had any meaning? The boy who had been like a shadow to her, constant companion, had left her without a word. He had vanished like a wave that had crashed on the shore and receded into the depths of the ocean.

As she sat on the bed, her eyes fixed on the door, she felt a lump in her throat. She had not slept a wink that night, and the city outside was bustling with activity. The streetlights, which had seemed so dim and feeble in the darkness, now shone brightly in the morning light. The sound of cars and buses filled the air, a cacophony that was a stark contrast to the silence that had reigned in the hostel.

If he had not left, would she have been able to sleep? find peace in her sleep, knowing that he was just a room away? She thought of the countless nights they had spent talking, laughing, and sharing their deepest secrets. He had been her confidant, her friend, and her protector.

As she sat there, lost in thought, she wondered what questions he had asked her when he left. Had he asked her if she believed in God? thought it was possible to deceive the divine? She had not thought about it then, but now, as she sat alone in the hostel, she realized that she had never really at all.

If she had been able to answer his questions, would he have stayed? come back to the hostel, to her, and to their life together? She thought of the countless what-ifs that plagued her mind, and she felt a wave of sadness wash over her.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the city, Prarthana felt a lump form in her throat. She had not cried that day, but now, as the darkness gathered outside, she felt the tears well up in her eyes. She thought of him, of his smile, of his laughter, and of his gentle touch. the life they had shared, and left behind.

And as the night deepened, and the city outside grew quieter, Prarthana let out a sob. It was a sound that was both a cry of pain and longing. echoed through the hostel, seemed to come from the very depths of her soul.

There she was, a girl who had grown up in the lap of her parents, Himavant and Prarthana, in Shivamogga; Channarayapatna's daughter, entered the hostel for the first time and was crying; there was nothing special about her. In Prarthana's room, the senior girl, who had not yet spoken a word, was sitting on her bed, looking like a Khaisoori from a village. The house was full of doctors. Ah, mother; my brother and sister (she had been brought up believing that she too would become a doctor like them); she had come to Davaangere and joined the hostel, and for the first time, she was feeling a bit excited; she was studying medicine, and it was not like studying Michaelangelo's art; she was reading a review of it, sitting in her room, but she couldn't afford to take her eyes off her books. As the days passed, she would get tired and sleep, but she had made up her mind to study from the very first day; up early in the morning and get ready to go to college, and when she came out, she would wear a neat and tidy cotton dress, and tie her hair in a ponytail, and go out; she was a different person back in the evening, wearing a pair of trousers and a T-shirt, and carrying a small swimming trunk in her hand; she would walk in the corridors of the hostel, wearing slippers, and people would look at her with envy; she didn't know anything about the world. On Friday nights, she would extinguish all the lights in her room, light a small candle, and mix gin and lemon in a card, and drink it; that night, she would smoke two cigarettes, but on other only smoke one; she had never talked about boys with Prarthana; why was that? She was like any other girl from Davaangere; no one had ever seen her talking to boys; she was considered a strange girl, and people would say, "But Prarthana, what's wrong with you?" "I just want to live," she would say, "I don't need a husband; I don't need to cook for anyone; children; I don't have any enemies."

Himavant was a bit of a rebel. He was an independent soul, and more importantly, he didn't feel the need to be a doctor. One night, he spoke to Urma in a tone that was as casual as it was profound, lit a cigarette, and went to sleep. The next day, a girl named Kaveri came to the hostel looking for Prarthana.

"Hello, I'm looking for Prarthana," she said, her eyes scanning the room. "Is Himavant here? He's my friend. I've come to see him."

Prarthana was sitting in the reception area, and she looked up at Kaveri with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. "What's all this, Kaveri? You've come to see Himavant? He's my friend too. You're so close to him, aren't you? him so often, and yet you've never even said hello to me."

Kaveri smiled and sat down next to Prarthana. "I'm sorry, Prarthana. I didn't mean to ignore you. You're like a god to me, and I respect you so much. Please don't be angry with me."

Prarthana's expression softened, and she smiled back at Kaveri. "Don't be silly, Kaveri. I'm not angry with you. Come, let's talk. What brings you here today?"

Kaveri took a deep breath and began to explain. Prarthana listened intently, her eyes never leaving Kaveri's face. As they talked, Prarthana couldn't help but notice the way Kaveri's eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her hair fell in soft waves down her back, and smile lit up the entire room.

Kaveri was a beautiful woman, Prarthana thought to herself. She was a bit on the older side, but she looked younger than her years. Her skin was smooth and unlined, and her eyes were a deep, rich brown that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. She was dressed in a simple white sari, but it was clear that she had put a lot of thought into her outfit. The way the fabric fell across her body, folds of the sari were perfectly arranged, it was all so deliberate and calculated.

As Prarthana looked at Kaveri, she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She had always been the center of attention, the one who everyone came to see. But now, as she realized that she was no longer the only one who was beautiful, worthy of attention. Kaveri was a rival, a competitor, and Prarthana felt a surge of competitiveness rise up inside her.

"Come on, Kaveri," Prarthana said, standing up and beckoning Kaveri to follow her. "Let's go to my room. We can talk more there."

Kaveri followed Prarthana, her eyes never leaving the older woman's face. As they walked, Prarthana couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building inside her. She had always been the one in control, the one who knew what was going on. But now, as she looked at Kaveri, she realized that she was no longer the only one who was in charge. Kaveri was a force to be reckoned with, and Prarthana felt a sense of trepidation rising up inside her.

Himavant had been seething with anger in her heart. She had been defeated by the girl's cunning. However, when she was walking in the corridor of the hostel, she stopped for a moment and said, "Look, mother. You spoke in a single sentence when I asked you. You didn't tell me anything about it until now. I came here today just to see you, but don't tell anyone in the room about it. Don't say anything to anyone." She said this and then thought for a moment. It didn't make sense to Prarthana at that moment. Himavant thought that maybe she was being secretive because she had seen God in a dream and was keeping it a secret. But Prarthana thought deeply about the situation. She was lying in a small, dimly lit room with a trunk and a bed. She had taken off her clothes and was wearing a nightgown. If anyone came to her room, she would have to cover herself quickly.

She had already lit the lamp in the room earlier in the evening and had said a prayer. She had even tidied up the room. The bed was made, and the table was clean. But now, as she looked at the clock, she felt a sudden sense of unease. She had been reading a book when she heard a noise. She looked up and saw that the door was open. She thought that maybe someone had come in while she was reading. She got up quickly and went to the door. She saw that it was Prarthana, who quietly. Prarthana was holding a book in her hand and looked surprised to see her.

Himavant's photo lay on the table, and Urmila sat with her eyes fixed on it, her face pale. Again, she gazed at Prarthana, her eyes wide with wonder, as if she had seen something more beautiful than Himavant's photo. "You must have told them about it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. it, but I don't know what to say. If they had known about it, what would have happened to Himavant?"

Urmila's eyes sparkled with a mix of emotions as she spoke. She had been trying to keep the news from Prarthana, but it seemed that Prarthana had already guessed something. Urmila's eyes narrowed, and she picked up the book that had fallen from her lap. She quickly covered her legs with the sari and sat up straight, her eyes fixed on Prarthana.

Prarthana's eyes were fixed on Urmila's face, and she could see the fear and anxiety written all over it. "What's wrong, Urmila?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Urmila's eyes flashed with anger, and she spoke in a low, husky voice. "You're asking me what's wrong? You're the one who's been asking me questions all along. trying to get information out of me."

Prarthana's eyes widened in surprise, and she took a step back. "I didn't mean to pry," she said, her voice filled with apology. "I just wanted to know what was going on."

Urmila's expression softened, and she looked at Prarthana with a hint of sadness. "You're a good friend, Prarthana," she said. "I'm sorry if I snapped at you. It's just that...I don't know what to do."

Prarthana's eyes filled with compassion, and she reached out to touch Urmila's hand. "Tell me, Urmila," she said. "Tell me what's going on. I'm here for you."

Urmila took a deep breath and began to speak, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I was at the hospital," she said. "I saw Himavant's photo on the wall. I couldn't believe it. I thought he was dead."

Prarthana's eyes widened in shock, and she sat down beside Urmila. "What happened?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Urmila's eyes filled with tears, and she spoke in a low, husky voice. "I don't know," she said. "I don't know what happened to him. I don't know if he's alive or dead."

Prarthana's eyes filled with tears, and she wrapped her arms around Urmila. "We'll find out, Urmila," she said. what happened to Himavant. I promise you that."

Urmila's eyes locked onto Prarthana's, and she saw the determination and compassion there. She knew that Prarthana would do everything in her power to help her find out what had happened to Himavant. And with that knowledge, Urmila felt a sense of hope that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Himavant's eyes sparkled with excitement as he listened to Prarthana's words. "Tell me, Prarthana, what's the reason for your anxiety?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Prarthana's eyes welled up with tears as she spoke, her voice trembling with emotion. "If I had told you about my anxiety, I would have been gone by now, and you left with a river like Kaveri, which has been swollen for so many days. But I'm not sure if you would have understood me, Himavant. You're a man who's been blind since birth, and I'm just a poor girl from a small village. What do I have to do with you?"

Himavant's expression softened, and he spoke with a gentle tone. "Prarthana, don't be anxious. I'm not a stranger to you. I've known you since you were a child, and I've seen you grow up. You're like a daughter to me, and I would never let anything happen to you."

Prarthana's eyes flashed with anger, and she spoke with a fierce tone. "You may have known me since I was a child, but you don't know me now. I'm not the same girl I used to be. I've grown up, and I have my own thoughts and feelings. And as for you, you're just a blind man who's been living in a world of his own. You don't know what it's like to be a woman, to be treated like a commodity, to be objectified and exploited. to be me."

Himavant's face remained calm, and he spoke with a gentle tone. "Prarthana, I may not know what it's like to be a woman, but I do blind. And I treated like a commodity, to be objectified and exploited. But I've learned to live with it, to adapt to my circumstances. And appreciate the beauty of the world, even in the darkest of times."

Prarthana's expression softened, and she spoke with a hint of sadness. "You may have learned to live with it, Himavant, but I haven't. I'm still struggling to come to terms with my own identity, place in the world. And as for you, you're just a blind man who's been living in a world of his own. You don't know what it's like to be me, to be a woman in a society that's stacked against us."

Himavant's eyes locked onto Prarthana's, and he spoke with a deep conviction. "Prarthana, I may not know what it's like to be a woman, but I do human. And I know that we're all in this together, struggling to find our place in the world. we can learn from each other, that we can grow and change together."

Prarthana's eyes flashed with anger once again, and she spoke with a fierce tone. "You may know what it's like to be human, Himavant, but you don't a woman in this society. You don't objectified and exploited, to be treated like a commodity. And you don't me, to be a poor girl from a small village who's been forced to marry a man she doesn't love."

Himavant's face remained calm, and he spoke with a gentle tone. "Prarthana, I may not know what it's like to be a woman in this society, but I do a man who's been blind since birth. And I know that we're all in this together, struggling to find our place in the world. we can learn from each other, that we can grow and change together."

Prarthana's expression softened once again, and she spoke with a hint of sadness. "You may know what it's like to be a man who's been blind since birth, Himavant, but you don't a woman in this society. And you don't me, poor girl from a small village who's been forced to marry a man she doesn't love."

What's the reason? Normally, men wouldn't come; what kind of awkwardness would you be in, being alone like that? Such questions were never asked, not even with a hint of mockery, as Kaveri walked up to the entrance of Prarthana's hostel, without being called, and Prarthana walked alongside her, face radiant with an inexplicable joy. Urmila was in Prarthana, and an indescribable happiness had taken birth in her. That night, Prarthana went to the telephone counter, called her father in Mysore, and told him in a loud voice, "I met a prostitute."

She had torn her clothes, and her hands were stained with the colour of the card she had picked up from the lemon card game, and she was laughing uncontrollably, smoking one cigarette after another, like a chain smoker. She had drunk a lot, and was now finishing off her drink. Was this the beginning of Urmila's downfall? Prarthana had been warned by her father to be careful, and she had been told that she would have to return to her hometown, Davanagere, in 15 days.

This incident had occurred in April, and Prarthana was walking on the road, her feet bare, when she was confronted by four men. Himavant was convinced that there was no other way out, and he had taken a firm decision that he would not let them pass. his courage in his hands and was ready to face them, but he was unsure if they had come to finish him off or if it was a threat from an enemy that was being carried forward.

At first, Himavant didn't understand the reason behind the threat. Threats had been coming his way for a week now, and they had been saying, "If you don't clear the tolls on the roads to Shivamogga, we will..."

Himavant couldn't bear the thought of Prarthana's Layout going bankrupt. It was not just a business venture for him; it was a dream that had taken shape in his mind. He had invested all his savings in it, and now it seemed to be slipping away from him. The real estate market in Shivamogga was in a slump, and the prices of the Layout's plots were plummeting. Himavant knew that if he didn't act fast, he would lose everything.

He had always been a cautious man, but the fear of failure was gnawing at him. He had been warned by Rasool Jamadar, the local leader, that he should not have ventured into the real estate business. But Himavant had been confident that he could make it work. Now, he was not so sure.

As he sat in his office, staring at the files and papers on his desk, Himavant felt a sense of desperation creeping in. He knew that he had to do something, but he didn't know what. He thought about Prarthana, who had always been his rock, his support. She had been the one who had encouraged him to take the risk, who had believed in him when he didn't believe in himself.

But now, as the reality of the situation sunk in, Himavant felt a pang of guilt. He had put Prarthana's Layout in jeopardy, and he didn't know how to get out of it. He thought about the phone calls he had received from the creditors, the threats they had made, the deadlines they had given him.

Himavant's mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions. He didn't know what to do, where to turn. He felt trapped, helpless, and alone. He thought about calling Prarthana, but he didn't want to burden her with his problems. He knew that she was worried about him, add to her stress.

As the night wore on, Himavant's anxiety grew. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. He was consumed by thoughts of failure, of loss, of shame. He knew that he had to do something, but he didn't know what. He was at a loss, a man without a plan, future.

And then, just as he was about to give up, Himavant remembered something. He remembered the words of Rasool Jamadar, the local leader. "You are not a man to be trifled with," he had said. "You are a man of action, a man who takes risks." Himavant thought about those words, and a spark of determination ignited within him.

He would not give up. let Prarthana's Layout go bankrupt. He would find a way, any way, to save it. his family down, his friends down, his community down. He would rise to the challenge, and he would overcome it.

With newfound determination, Himavant got out of his chair, and he began to pace back and forth in his office. He thought about his options, his possibilities, his chances. He knew that it wouldn't be easy, but he was ready to face the challenge head-on.

And as he walked, Himavant felt a sense of hope rising within him. He knew that he could do it, that he would do it. He would save Prarthana's Layout, and he would emerge victorious.

Himavant sat in the room, surrounded by the remnants of the eight houses that had been demolished. He had tidied up the room, leaving only a few items scattered about. He had been waiting for Prarthana to arrive from Davanagere, and he was anxious to see how she would react to the changes in his life. As he sat there, he couldn't help but think about how his life had changed. He had been living in a state of uncertainty, and now he had finally found a sense of purpose.

As he sat there, he began to think about the events that had led him to this point. He had been living in a world of his own, and now he was faced with the reality of his situation. He thought about how state of denial, and how trying to avoid the truth. But now, he was forced to confront life.

As he sat there, lost in thought, he heard a knock at the door. It was Rasool Jamadar, who had come to check on him. Himavant was still in a daze, and he didn't even notice Rasool's arrival. Rasool was concerned about Himavant's condition, and he began to examine him. He noticed that Himavant's eyes were sunken, and his skin was pale. He also hands were trembling.

Rasool tried to reassure Himavant, but he was still in a state of shock. He kept thinking about the events that had led him to this point, and how he had been living denial. bring him back to reality, but Himavant was still lost in thought.

Just then, a group of Halka Korar, who had been searching for Himavant, appeared at the scene. They had been tracking him for some time, and they finally found him. Rasool tried to intervene, but the Halka Korar were too powerful. They overpowered Rasool and began to beat Himavant.

As Himavant lay on the ground, he thought about how his life had changed. He had been living in a world of his own, and now he was faced with the reality of his situation. state of denial, and how trying to avoid the truth. But now, he was forced to confront life.

Just then, a young girl appeared on the scene. She was a Kendamaandal, and she had been sent by Shiva Murthy to bring Himavant to the hospital. She was carrying a basket of fruits and vegetables, and she was accompanied by a group of guards. Rasool tried to stop her, but she was too quick. She reached Himavant and began to examine him.

As she examined Himavant, she noticed that he was in a state of shock. She tried to reassure him, but he was still lost in thought. She began to talk to him, trying to bring him back to reality. Himavant slowly began to come back to himself, and he started her.

Just then, a Mandi Marcent Shantaprasad appeared on the scene. He had been walking by and had seen Himavant lying on the ground. He was shocked by what he saw, but he quickly regained his composure. He began to talk to Himavant, trying to reassure him. Himavant slowly began to come back to himself, and he started Shantaprasad.

As they talked, Himavant began to regain his composure. He started to think about his life, and how it had changed. He thought about how he had been living in a state of denial, and trying to avoid the truth. But now, he was forced to confront the reality of his life.

Himavant was speaking in a tone that seemed to imply there was no danger, but the words he spoke were beyond the answers that Rasool Jamadar had expected. As he spoke, "What's the point of worrying? The houses where the girls lived were just a few steps away from the house. You can go and see for yourself. The story of your mistress will be over in three more days." Himavant's face lit up with a smile as he spoke, and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

As he spoke, he grasped Rasool Jamadar's shoulder, and his words seemed to be directed at him alone. Rasool Jamadar's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked at Himavant with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "What's going on? What's this all about? How can it be that the girl's story is going to be over in three days? And what about the 18,000 rupees in debt? Is that just a rumor? You're saying will and then what? You're saying that you're going to make it all go away with a slap on the wrist? That's not possible."

As Himavant spoke, his face changed, and his eyes took on a look of concern. His voice was no longer lighthearted, and his words were laced with a sense of urgency. Rasool Jamadar's eyes were fixed on Himavant, and he could see the fear and anxiety in his eyes. The doctor, who had been standing nearby, came over to them, and the nurse attending to Himavant's wound help him.

As the doctor and the nurse attended to Himavant, Rasool Jamadar stood back, watching him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He couldn't help but wonder what was going on, and what Himavant was trying to tell him. were trying to calm Himavant down, but he was still agitated, and his words were laced with a sense of urgency.

As Rasool Jamadar watched Himavant, he couldn't help but think of the conversation they had earlier. Himavant had been acting strangely, and Rasool Jamadar had sensed that something was wrong. Now, he was starting to realize seriously wrong, and that Himavant was in grave danger.

The doctor and the nurse were trying to calm Himavant down, but he was still agitated, and his words were laced with a sense of urgency. Rasool Jamadar's eyes were fixed on Himavant, and he could see the fear and anxiety in his eyes. He knew that he had to do something, and fast.

"Wait, just wait for a minute," Rasool Jamadar said, his voice firm and commanding. "I'll go to the station and file a complaint. We'll get to the bottom of this, and we'll make sure that those responsible are brought to justice. Don't worry, we'll take care of this."

"If you identify the boys who did this, let's file a complaint and then you can go," Rasool Jamadar told Himavant in a soft, respectful voice, holding Shantappa's hand as they walked out of the hospital. "Can't we file it in the morning? Let him sleep for a while now," Shantappa suggested. Not knowing whose advice to follow, Himavant stood silent for a moment. Then, suddenly releasing Shantappa's hand, he grabbed Jamadar's arm and led him to another corner of the hospital yard where it was dark. Himavant's expression changed. Sweat began to bead on his bandaged forehead. He licked his lips twice. Then, clearing his throat softly, he said, "What will you do with a complaint, Sab? Wake up at dawn and go to Gonigara Keri. Gather Virupaksha, Venkatesha, Naga from the last house, and his uncle's son Ganesha. Bring them all. I will come in the morning to see them. Go home now, your daughter's husband will have returned. Don't start arguing, eat a couple of bites and sleep. Get up at dawn and do what I said. Go." Within three seconds of saying this, Himavant's face relaxed, and his eyes cleared. Rasool Jamadar stood stunned, not knowing what to do. Having said his piece, Himavant walked back to Shantappa's scooter without another word. Jamadar stood there like a stone statue until the two of them disappeared from the hospital premises, sweating all over for some reason. But a bigger surprise was waiting for him at home. Before he even knocked on the door, he heard his daughter's husband talking inside the house. The entire house was filled with joy; the son-in-law who had left in anger had returned! Were the words of that strange boy starting to come true? Rasool Jamadar's shock was not going to end soon. At that moment, Jamadar did not realize that he would spend many of the remaining years of his life living alongside this mystery. Meanwhile, Himavant, without saying much, went to his backyard room at Shantappa's house and lay flat on the mat without a pillow. Deep in his brain, blood seemed to surge suddenly, numbing his head. In her room, Prarthana woke up screaming from a nightmare.

It was not necessary to be so sentimental before getting married. Prarthana sat up, her eyes wide with a hint of annoyance. It was the 35th night, and she had been lying awake, thinking about this very thing; how she would cry when she had to part with Himavant. She didn't even bother to look at the bed, which was still in disarray from the previous night. She was always restless, always interested in reading, and if she didn't have a book to read, she would get agitated. She couldn't bear the thought of being in a hostel or a college, where she would have to be surrounded by people all the time.

When the evening came, she would get up, throw the book aside, and lie down on the bed, trying to suppress her sighs. She would tell herself, "Relax, you're more tired than Himavant. You've finished your studies, and you've come to the medical college. You're living, and that's all that matters. You're fine." But the thought of Himavant would still linger in her mind. She would think, "What's the point of studying so hard? Will it make a difference in the end? Will I be able to make Himavant proud?" And so, she would get agitated, her hand trembling with emotion as she spoke.

It wasn't long before she started calling herself "Prarthana" instead of "Prarthana-ma" or "Prarthana-beti". When she came to the room, she would see her clothes, which she had washed and ironed with great care. She would think, "If I had made a mistake, if I had been careless, would anyone have noticed? cared?" She would remember how, even in the seventh class, she had been so careful about her studies, how she had always tried to please Himavant. She would think, "If I had been a good wife, if I had served Himavant well, would he have loved me more?" And so, she would get emotional, her eyes welling up with tears as she thought about the relationship between a husband and wife.

It was all so complicated, so difficult to understand. They were just a man and a woman, living together, but much more than that. They were two people, bound together by love and duty, and yet, they were also two individuals, with their own thoughts and feelings. And Prarthana couldn't help but wonder, "Is it all worth it? Is it all just a game, a charade, a pretence?"

You don't need to see me to know that whatever you do for me, Himavant, with love or with resentment, is all because of love. If you read this with devotion, then only will you understand the power that lay in my fingers, Prarthana too never tried to suppress, not even when she spoke of her father and mother with utmost reverence; left without telling them anything. She left the house wearing the same clothes she had worn when she came in, and went all the way to the medical college in Davangere, where she was admitted and determined to pay off Himavant's debt, no matter how long it took. You don't iron a man's clothes, Urmi; I have come to think of Himavant as my very existence: his clothes, his hair, his scent, his touch, the memory of his mother who lived within him, his confidence, his security - what is there that one can live without loving? How long have you been waiting for me, Urmi? Where Where has he been? You have reading for me, for my health, for my happiness - what through? You will never be my home, Urmi. He is not there to make you happy. The pain of missing him is what you feel, isn't it? Prarthana was talking to herself, lost in her thoughts, unable to distinguish between her own emotions and her own foolishness. She was not talking about Himavant; she was talking about any man. The love you have for a man, the companionship, the trust, the respect - all these have become a habit for you, Urmi. You have put your foot on Himavant's chest, and you are feeling secure, feeling comfortable. But that's not what you need, Urmi. You need to feel the insecurity, the uncertainty, the fear - that's what the world is all about. pain of loving, the pain of missing. Think about it, Urmi, for a moment. Himavant will come to Davangere tomorrow, and he will be there. But for five years, away, studying. You will be here, waiting for him, reading for him, for his health, for his happiness - what will you go through? You will never be his home, Urmi. He here to make you happy. Any boy can do what I am doing, Urmi. I am not doing it for Himavant; it for you. out of love; out of habit. because I love you. But you don't need me, Urmi. a boy to make you happy. Any boy can do what I am doing.

As Himavant walked away, the thought of Prarthana's words echoed in his mind. "You don't have to love me, but if you do, it's okay. If you don't, it's also okay. You can think of me as a friend, a companion, or just a memory. love me, it's not just about loving me, it's about loving the idea of me, what I represent. comfort, the security, the sense of belonging that I bring to your life. And if you can't love me, then maybe you're not ready for love at all. to take the risk, to open yourself up to the possibility of getting hurt. But if you're willing to take that risk, then maybe, just maybe, you'll find what you're looking for."

As Prarthana read the note, she felt a pang of sadness. She had never intended to hurt Himavant, but she knew that she had. She had been so caught up in her own emotions, her own desires, forgotten about his feelings. She had forgotten that he was a person, with his own thoughts, his own feelings, his own desires.

Prarthana looked at herself in the mirror, and for a moment, she saw Himavant's face staring back at her. She saw the pain, the hurt, the confusion in his eyes. And she knew that she had to make things right. find a way to make Himavant understand that she didn't mean to hurt him, that she was sorry for what she had done.

As she got ready for the day, Prarthana couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. She knew that she had to see Himavant, to talk to him, to make things right. But she was scared, of what he might say, scared do. of losing him, of losing the one person who had ever truly understood her.

But as she looked at herself in the mirror, Prarthana knew that she had to be brave. face her fears, to face Himavant, and to make things right. She took a deep breath, and with a sense of determination, she walked out of the house, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

As she walked, Prarthana felt a sense of calm wash over her. She knew that she was doing the right thing, taking the first step towards healing, towards forgiveness, towards making things right. And she hope, possibility, a sense that things could get better, right.

When she arrived at the café, Prarthana saw Himavant sitting at a table, sipping a cup of coffee. He looked up, and their eyes met, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Prarthana felt a sense of nervousness, but she knew that she had to be brave, face him, to talk to him, to make things right.

"Hi," Prarthana said, trying to sound casual, trying to hide her nervousness.

"Hi," Himavant replied, his voice low, his eyes still fixed on hers.

Prarthana took a deep breath, and sat down across from him. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Himavant looked at her, his eyes searching hers. "For what?" he asked, his voice still low, still calm.

Prarthana hesitated, unsure of how to answer. But then she looked at Himavant, and she saw the pain, the hurt, the confusion in his eyes. And she knew that she had to be honest, tell him the truth.

"For hurting you," she said, her voice still barely above a whisper. "For not being honest with you. For not being the person you thought I was."

Himavant looked at her, his eyes still fixed on hers. And for a moment, they just stared at each other, the only sound the hum of the café, the only movement the gentle rustle of the wind outside.

Himavant got out of the hostel with Prarthana. The sun was setting in the sky, casting a warm glow over everything. "Hello, dear!" Deb, who had taken the keys from the car, greeted the three of them with a smile, as the car's ignition roared to life. The sound of the car's engine, combined with the hum of the radio, filled the air, and Deb, who was known for his love of Hindi songs, began to sing along, his voice booming through the speakers. The song was one that he had learned in his second year of medical college, and it was a favorite among the students of the college.

As they drove away from the college, Deb, who was known for his love of music, began to sing along to the song, his voice filling the car. The song was a popular one among the students of the college, and it was a favorite of Deb's. He had learned it in his second year of medical college, and he had sung it many times before, but today, it seemed to take on a new meaning, as he sang along with Prarthana and Himavant.

Deb's full name was Debashish Chandra Bandopadhyay, and he was a legend among the students of the medical college. He was known for his love of music, and his ability to sing along to any song, no matter how complex. He had a voice that was like honey, smooth and sweet, and he could sing with the best of them.

As they drove through the streets of Davanagere, the city came alive with the sound of music. The streets were filled Hindi songs, and Deb, who was driving the car, began to sing along, his voice booming through the speakers. Prarthana and Himavant joined in, and soon, the car was music, as the three of them sang along to the song.

Prarthana smiled as she looked at Deb, who was singing along to the song. She had always loved his voice, and the way he could sing along to any song, no matter how complex. She had met him in her first year of medical college, and they had become fast friends. They had shared many memories together, and Prarthana had always been drawn to Deb's love of music.

Himavant looked at Prarthana, who was smiling at him. He had always loved her smile, and the way she could light up a room with her presence. He had met her in his second year of medical college, and they had become close friends. They had shared many memories together, and Himavant had always been drawn to Prarthana's kindness and compassion.

Himavant's open shirt had fallen on the previous day's chest. "If Deb had married me, what an incredible bride she would have been," thought Prarthana, a string of prayerful wishes in Deb's eyes alone. If she had agreed to go to the city, raised her head, been as lucky as this birth allowed. With a thousand attempts to make her smile, happy, the goddess of the hostel had descended to the earth, but could not return to the heavens, tormented by the beauty of the girl.

The only Gandharva in the college corridors, the most handsome boy from Bengal, who would win every examination with ease, who had the courage to reach for the sky, "Must I leave her like this? Is she not the good fortune of my life? Can I not use her as I please, without any harm to her? make her my own, own,

If you had seen him yourself, would you have understood Prarthana? Or are you one of those who read for any reason, no matter how trivial? In the midst of a bustling bazaar, in a corner of a crowded street, there was a change that had taken place in him, a transformation that was so profound that even he himself couldn't fathom it. For the first three days, he had been confined to his room in Shantappa's house, taking refuge in solitude. He had forgotten even Nandakka's mother, and Shantappa would come to visit him three times a day, talking to him and leaving.

The bandage on his head, the stitches in his scalp, the swelling in his brain - all these had been a result of the accident. But it was Himavant who was more shaken than his parents. For the first time in his life, he had come to realize that life was not in his control. The strange things that were happening to him were beyond his comprehension. He refused to sleep in Shantappa's house, but on the morning after his second day in the hospital, he got up at nine and opened the door to let in Rasool Jamadar, who had come to visit him. The moment he saw the Jamadar, he felt a strange sensation, as if he was seeing a god. But his eyes were already starting to twitch, his mouth was contorting, and his limbs were losing control.

"What's wrong, Jamadar?" he asked, trying to speak. But his words were slurred, and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He tried to move his hand, but it felt like a dead weight. "Go to the Gooner's house," he said, trying to remember the words. "I'll go there." But where was the Gooner's house? He didn't know. get up, but his legs felt like jelly. He looked at the Jamadar, who was staring at him with a mixture of concern and fear. "What's wrong with me?" he asked, trying to speak. But his words were barely intelligible.

Himavant's face was about to burst with an explosion. Whatever thread was tied to the center was getting tangled and getting out of control. He had no control over it. His hand wasn't his, expression wasn't genuine, and his words weren't his own. Other people's thoughts were pouring into him, and he was making them his own. everything his own, and everything was getting out of control. Nothing was familiar to him, tangled. He couldn't stop anything, control. The only thing that was consistent was that everything would settle down in a few hours. His expression would calm down, his hand would return to normal, and the Jamadar's astonishment would remain. But Himavant would recover faster than the Jamadar, in just a few minutes. He would speak calmly, and the Jamadar would be surprised. Himavant was speaking was surprised.

Just then, another unexpected event occurred. "What a blessing is this for Nandakkan? Is it a good deed or a bad deed? I don't know what to say. Nandakkan is still a child, and he doesn't know anything. He is like a moon that has just been born, and he is still in his first three days. He is not even aware of his own existence. Is he a good soul or a bad soul? I am extremely angry, and I am speaking with a harsh tone. Rasool Jamadar also knows this. If any other person, Rasool Jamadar, were to pass by, he would know about his future. But if Himavant is here, then he will also know about the matter. He will start talking! Nandakkan's breakfast plate was in the kitchen, and he had gone to get it. He had taken a few steps when he saw Rasool Jamadar, and he stopped. 'Look, go and see,' he said, and he went back to get another plate. His servant, Vane, had started to bring the plates.

Himavant's words were like a slap on Nandakkan's face. He was repeating the words that he had spoken earlier, and Nandakkan was listening to them. If Himavant was speaking like this, then what would Nandakkan do? He would just listen to him, and he would not say anything. only to the Jamadar, and he was not saying anything to Nandakkan. He was just treating Nandakkan like a child, giving him a plate of idlis and rice. He was Nandakkan was watching him from a distance, wondering what Himavant was doing. doing, and he was not understanding anything.

Himavant was worried about the fact that whenever people who had lost control of themselves would come out. But such a thing had never happened before, not even to Himavant, who possessed superhuman strength, or to Rasool Jamadar, who was the sole witness to the event. On the night of the full moon, a strange occurrence took place in the room where Nandakka had gone to bed after finishing his day's work. The woman who had been waiting for him to fall asleep so that she could change her sari had been startled by a sudden movement. She had been so frightened that she had almost screamed. If she hadn't been able to control herself, she would have scratched her guitar. The paralyzing fear had left her shaken.

In the morning, when she went to the bathroom to bathe, the sari was not there. But suddenly, she saw a half-armed, dark-skinned creature with a machete on her stomach, just below her navel. It looked like a wound that had healed, but the scar was still visible. birthmark. She had been born with it, and now, at the age of 68, it had appeared again. She wondered where it had come from. As she looked at the machete, she thought that it might be a sign that she would die soon. She had been worried about her age, and now this strange mark had appeared on her body. her time was running out.

She got up and went to bed, but she couldn't sleep. She kept thinking about the strange mark on her body. She wondered if it was a sign that she would die soon. She had been born with it, and now, at the age of 68, it had appeared again. She thought that it might be her time was running out. She got up and went to the bathroom to wash her face. As she was washing her face, she saw the mark on her stomach again. She felt a chill run down her spine. She thought that it might be a sign that she would die soon.

As she was getting ready for the day, she saw the mark on her stomach again. She felt a sense of unease. She thought that it might be a sign that her time was running out. She went to the kitchen to make some tea, but she couldn't shake off the feeling kept thinking about the strange mark on her body. She wondered if it was a sign that she would die soon.

As she was sipping her tea, she heard a knock on the door. It was Rasool Jamadar. He had come to see her. She was surprised to see him. She had not expected him to come to her house. She invited him in, and they sat down to talk. Rasool Jamadar asked her about the strange mark on her body. She told him that she had no idea what it was. He asked her if she had any enemies who might have put the enemies. any might mean. was scared. she was.

Himavant noticed Kannada when he stepped out on duty. He was smoking a cigarette in the shed. He glanced at the mirror, thinking that a small sign of a bad omen might appear. His hair was growing in the same way as a Kumarappa's, and he had made it a point to observe himself in the mirror every time he smoked. But he had not noticed anything unusual, except that he had been feeling a bit uneasy since the past twenty days. He wondered if it was a disease or a curse. How did it come to him? taken any medicine or treatment for it. He had not even tried to comb his hair in the morning. He had been sleeping poorly, and was feeling tired all the time. He had lost interest in eating, taking a bath, and even dressing up. going to the shed, sitting on a bench, and staring at his hair, which was growing in an unusual way. Rasool Jamadar, who was standing nearby, noticed Himavant's hair and was observing him with a mixture of curiosity and unease. He had been watching Himavant for the past three days, and had noticed that he was not taking care of himself. trying to ignore him, but it was getting difficult. He had even tried to shoo him away, but Himavant was not responding. Rasool Jamadar had been thinking of taking action, but he was not sure what to do. He had written a complaint to the Kumarappa, but he had not done anything about it. He was worried that Himavant's condition might worsen if he did not take any action. He had

Himavant was going away, saying, "I'll tell you later, I'll tell you later." He had taken Prarthana along, and as they walked, he kept looking back, as if he was worried that someone might stop him. Even Rasool Jamadar, who was trying to stop him, didn't make any effort, because in his eyes, Himavant had already become a god. Who would dare to oppose a god? After four days of care, Himavant had recovered from his burns and was sitting in the courtyard, still not willing to go back to the fields where he had been working. The wound on his head had healed faster than he had expected. On the day he came village, he was still in a daze, with a look of fear in his eyes. When Rasool Jamadar came looking for him, he was sitting still not responding to his presence. Rasool Jamadar and Ajja of Cheluvanahalli Gavi Math sat down next to him, talking about this strange behavior of his. "No one in the world can explain yours," they said. Rasool Jamadar had already told Shantappa about Himavant's strange behavior, and he had come to his house. When Himavant reached the compound, Rasool Jamadar took him to the gate, and as he was leaving, he said to him, "Farewell, Himavant!" If Rasool Jamadar had not taken Himavant if Prarthana had not fallen in front of his eyes, the story would have taken a different turn. Because Prarthana was sitting next to him, and Debesh Chandra Bandyopadhyay was sitting them. Prarthana's eyes were like a storm, but she didn't cry, she didn't laugh, she didn't even smile. Her friends her didn't even think about what they were thinking; she looked at Himavant with tears in her eyes and said, "Himavant, look at me!" A spark of anger flashed and for a moment, she lost control of herself. She got up and went out, leaving the room in a mess.

Himavant's feet were so dirty that Prarthana had to bend down to touch them. She did it with a smile, but her heart was racing. She had never seen a boy like this before. His eyes were like a big, dark flower that had just opened. He looked at her with a gaze that made her feel like she was melting.

He was wearing a white shirt with a red tie and a pair of trousers that were so tight they looked like they were painted on. His hair was messy, but in a good way. It was like he had just rolled out of bed and was still half asleep.

As he drove, he hummed a tuneless song to himself. He was completely absorbed in the music, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Prarthana watched him with a mixture of fascination and fear. She had never seen anyone so carefree before.

She thought about how much she had changed in the past five years. She used to be so full of life, hope. But now, she felt like she was just going through the motions. She was like a leaf that had been blown away by the wind, without any direction or purpose.

As she looked at Himavant, she felt a pang of jealousy. He was so carefree, so full of life. He was like a bird that had just been set free, singing its heart out.

But as she looked at him more closely, she saw the lines on his face, the tiredness in his eyes. He was not as carefree as he seemed. He was just hiding his true feelings behind a mask of confidence.

Prarthana felt a shiver run down her spine as Himavant turned to her and smiled. "Hello, I'm Debashish, Bhattacharya from Bengal," he said, his eyes sparkling with friendliness. "Prarthana and I used to work together in Shivamogga. We're old friends."

Prarthana's heart skipped a beat as Himavant's eyes locked onto hers. She felt like she was drowning in their depths, unable to breathe. "I'm Deb," he said, his voice low and smooth. "And you are...?"

Prarthana's voice caught in her throat as she tried to speak. She felt like she was going to faint. "I'm Prarthana," she managed to stammer out.

Himavant's smile grew wider as he looked at her. "Prarthana, my friend," he said, his voice dripping with warmth. "It's so good to see you again."

As he spoke, Prarthana felt a sense of calm wash over her. She felt like she was home, exactly where she was meant to be. But as she looked at Himavant more closely, she saw the doubt in his eyes, the uncertainty. He was not as confident as he seemed. He was just hiding his true feelings behind a mask of bravado.

Prarthana's heart went out to him as she looked at him. She knew exactly what he was going through. She had been there too, once. She had felt the same sense of uncertainty, doubt. But she had never spoken up, never expressed her feelings. She had just kept them locked inside, hidden away.

As she looked at Himavant, she felt a sense of solidarity with him. She knew exactly what he was going through, and she wanted to help him, to support him. be there for him, to be his friend.

But as she looked at him more closely, she saw the fear in his eyes, the fear of rejection. He was afraid to express his feelings, afraid to be hurt. And Prarthana knew exactly how he felt. She had been there too, once. She had felt the same sense of fear, uncertainty.

If she had not had that kind of pride in her personality, would Prarthana have bowed her head to the ground and greeted Himavant with such humility? As it was; she had spoken her mind and had gone quiet. "You're not even a match for the worms in the earth," Deb said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What a great man you are, Nandakka. Introduce me to Prarthana, and I'll show you my respect." He had been saying this while Himavant was getting up from the couch, and now he stood up, his eyes fixed on Prarthana.

As he looked at her, he noticed the way she had greeted Himavant, bowed her head, the way her eyes had sparkled with excitement. He was struck by the contrast between her behavior and his own. He had been a man of great pride and arrogance, but she had shown him such humility and respect. What was it about her that made him feel this way? He couldn't understand it.

He looked at Himavant, who was still standing there, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "You're not even a match for the worms in the earth," Deb repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What a great man you are, Nandakka. Introduce me to Prarthana, and I'll show you my respect."

Himavant just smiled and said, "I'll introduce you to her, Deb. But first, let me talk to you about something." He turned to Prarthana and said, "Prarthana, can you take care of the cooking for tonight? We can eat here in the forest lodge. And make sure to bring some food for the others who are still here."

Prarthana nodded and said, "Yes, I'll take care of it." Deb looked at her and said, "You're not even a match for the worms in the earth," but this time, his voice was not as sarcastic as before. He was starting to see Prarthana in a different light.

As the night fell, Deb and Himavant sat down to eat, and Prarthana brought out a delicious meal. Deb was impressed by her cooking skills, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her. He looked at Himavant and said, "You're a lucky man, Nandakka. You have a woman like Prarthana in your life."

Himavant just smiled and said, "I know, Deb. I'm a lucky man." Deb looked at Prarthana and said, "You know, I think I'm going to like it here in the forest. It's peaceful, and the people are nice." Prarthana "I'm glad you Deb."

As they finished their meal, Deb stood up and said, "I think I'm going to go to bed now. It's been a long day." Himavant nodded and said, "Goodnight, Deb. Sleep well." Prarthana "Goodnight, Deb. I'll see you in the morning."

Deb walked out of the forest lodge, feeling a sense of peace and contentment that he had not felt in a long time. He looked up at the stars and said, "I think I'm going to like it here in the forest."

Prarthana was crying nonstop, her eyes red from crying, as she held onto the shards of his broken glass. Meanwhile, a scooter was parked outside the hostel's main gate, its owner having gone to Davanagere. He had left her with a promise to return the money he had borrowed from her, but she knew that he would never return. Was it not a fact that he had never returned anything? Had she not seen him off to Davanagere, thinking return soon? But come back. life was like that? She had known it all along, but she had never thought that it would happen to her.

She had read the novel, and she knew that loving someone was a big responsibility. But she had never thought that it would be like this. She had thought that she was in love, but now she realized that it was just infatuation. could change him, knew that she couldn't. He was beyond redemption.

As she sat in the corner of the room, her mind was a jumble of thoughts. She thought about how she had met him, how they had fallen in love, and how he had promised to return the money. But now, he was gone, and she was left with nothing. been so blind, loved him so much, and how she had given him everything.

Just then, Himavant walked into the room, his head still bandaged from the accident. He looked at Prarthana, and she could see the pain in his eyes. He sat down next to her, feel his body shaking with sobs. She held onto him, trying to comfort him, but she knew that she couldn't. She was the one who was hurt, not him.

As they sat there, Prarthana's mind was a jumble of thoughts. She thought about how she had been so foolish, loved him so much, and given him everything. been blind, thought that he would change, and she could love him. But now, she knew that it was all over.

Just then, Himavant spoke up, his voice shaking with emotion. "Prarthana, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry for what I did. I know that I hurt you, and I'm sorry." Prarthana looked at him, and she could see the pain in his eyes. She knew that he was sorry, but it was too late. The damage was done.

Just then, the doctor walked into the room, a look of concern on his face. "Prarthana, how are you feeling?" he asked. Prarthana looked at him, and she could see the concern in his eyes. She knew that she was hurt, but she didn't know how much. The doctor examined her, and then he looked at Himavant. "You're lucky to be alive," he said. "If you had fallen from the scooter at night, you would have died."

Prarthana looked at Himavant, and she could see the fear in his eyes. She knew that he was scared, and lucky to be alive. She thought about how she had been so blind, loved him so much, and given him everything. been foolish, thought that he would change, and she could love him. But now, she knew that it was all over.

Deb, who was preparing for the third round after finishing two pints, was also thinking about the same thing that night. Sitting opposite him, Urmi was enjoying her cigarette more than the whiskey. The night was as deep as sorrow in the forest. By the time their car reached the forest lodge, the cook, who had been waiting for them, placed the food on the dining table, instructed them to close the door when they left, and went away. Now, they were the only two in the entire forest! The friendship that had started in the college corridors, matured in the dim lights of Bathi dhabas near Davanagere, had now walked into the middle of the Shivamogga forest. Urmi was not so foolish as to not understand the plea in his eyes, nor was she so unwise as to reject someone like him. An only son with huge property, handsome, smart, and above all: "I love you more than I have loved any other girl. True, we wandered together, but all that was pure playfulness. From today until my last day, it's only you. What do you say?" Deb asked clearly amidst the dense silence of the forest lodge. Though his voice, fueled by two pints of whiskey, carried a hope of winning, there was a tense chord of anxiety that a single rejection from Urmi would crush him. "Don't joke, Deb. I know you flirt very well. Hearing words like 'body, speech, mind' from you sounds like a joke. I still have to become a doctor. If I get nothing else, I will specialize in Forensics and become the most famous doctor who performs autopsies in India. After achieving all that, I will throw my medical books in the drain and read all the history books in the libraries of India. I want to travel around forts searching for the footprints of kings. I want to smoke cigarettes and drink until I fall to the ground. If I become your wife before all this, my life will feel incomplete. By the way, whenever I get some free time, you know Kasuri Kaveramma in Davanagere? I want to live in her house like a pure prostitute for four days. And you say you love someone like me, Deb? You must be crazy. Ask me directly, 'shall we flirt?' It sounds healthy. What do you say?

Deb's hand was trembling as she spoke. She had finished her words, but there was no response from Himavant. If she had been a bit more fond of him, she would have said, "Get up and go, I'm tired of sleeping." But she didn't say that. She had said it before, and it was not something new to her. It was something that would end by the time she felt happy, and woke up. She had to get up and go, to her.

Don't send me. I'm not going to Davanagere. leave you. My heart is still with you. let you go. be taken away from me. be killed. be hurt. be separated from me.

You are my everything. life. soul. I'm not going to let you go. be taken away from me. be hurt. be killed.

I am a hen for nothing, isn't that so, Ashpa? She needs humanity, not divinity. Love; desire; its joy and its fruit. Yes, a woman can worship God, but when it comes to love, she is a hen that clucks and cackles with all her might. Prarthana sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed, just like a god, with her back against the wall of the room, gazing at the stars in the sky. She was hesitant to let Himavant go, to let him leave her alone. We have to tell her that she has been a nurse in the hospital in Davanagere, and taking care of patients, and good nurse, doing her job well.

Himavant's face had a calm expression, but Prarthana's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. She didn't understand why Himavant was hesitant to let her go. She was a nurse, and she had to go to work. Himavant's puzzle to her, and she couldn't solve it. She had made a promise to him, keep promised him that she would be with him, and never leave him.

Prarthana's voice was trembling as she asked Himavant, "Did you make a promise to me? Tell me, did you promise me that you would be with me?" Himavant's voice was calm, and he said, "No, I didn't you. But I did and that promise is that I will be with you, and never leave you."

Prarthana's eyes were filled with tears as she asked Himavant, "What promise did you make to me? Tell me, what me?" Himavant's voice was gentle, and he said, "I didn't make a promise to you, but I did and that promise is that I will be with you, and never leave you."

Prarthana's heart was filled with joy as she heard Himavant's words. She knew that she had to go to work, and leave Himavant alone. But she also keep her promise to him, be with him. She took a deep breath, and she said, "I will I will be with you. But I have to go now, and I will come back to you."

Prarthana got up from the floor, and she went to the bathroom. She washed her face, and she combed her hair. She put on a clean uniform, kitchen. She made a cup of tea, and she sat down at the table. She was thinking about Himavant, and the promise she had made to him. how she had to be with him, and keep her promise to him.

As she sat at the table, Prarthana heard a knock at the door. It was Himavant, and he had come to see her. He was standing in the doorway, and he was looking at her with a smile on his face. Prarthana's heart was filled with joy as she saw Himavant, and she knew that she had to be with him. She got up from the table, and she went to Himavant. She hugged him tightly, and she said, "I'm glad you came to see me. I have to go to work now, but I will come back to you."

As he descended from the Teresa, where was he to put his head; on her shoulder? She had her arms wrapped tightly around him, holding him close, not giving him any answers to his questions or any surprises. She kept her hand on his shoulder, holding him firmly, without even letting him take a sip of water on his head, and gently rocked him back and forth. She had tied his turban tightly and kept it in place, and had put a flower garland had put it aside on the corner of the room. She said to him, "You need me, Himavant. Even if you find me to be a nuisance, it's okay. If you don't take care of me now, I will be gone by tomorrow morning. lost forever. Don't try to teach me anything or tell me anything. I will not be alive tomorrow morning. If you think so, it's okay."

She lit a lamp, Prarthana. Himavant stood still for a moment, his mind numb. Even when she lit the lamp, she didn't come near him. She was standing a little away from him, her breath heavy, as if she was about to burst. Himavant's eyes widened in surprise: was this nakedness so wonderful? Was this touch so pleasant? What kind of fire was this that was burning within him? Was it a volcano about to erupt? His body, which had been hardened by years of hard work, was melting like wax in this touch. If this was what it meant to be alive, then he was ready to be consumed by it. reduced to ashes.

He thought to himself: what was he doing here? with Prarthana? He had walked a thousand miles from Channarayapatna, braving the heat and the cold, driven by his desire to see her. He had given up his life for her, and now he was ready to give again. be consumed by her, to be reduced to nothing. nothing.

Prarthana's body was not just a body; it was a flame that was burning within him. burning with love, with passion, with a desire to be together. burning with a sense of urgency, necessity. longing, yearning. Himavant's hands were wrapped tightly around her, holding her close, as if he was trying to hold back the tide. the tide of his emotions, desire. love for her.

As he sat there, wrapped in his thoughts, he realized that he had never felt this way before. sense of longing, this sense of yearning. of urgency, necessity. of love, passion. of being alive, being human.

Let Himavant's reasons be known /10

A lakh of men might be burning with passion, with desire, with necessity, but one of them the thought of another. They are all men, women, in the same line - [I am a man, you are a woman, what then? Can't you see that I am burning with desire for you? burning with passion the need for you?] But it's not possible to explain to the bodies that are - don't get excited, I will become a man, you wife, for the sake of passion, desire, burning. I will plant the seed of my light in your womb, our union will be called - 'Himavashu!' The night was very painful and torturous, Prarthana had fallen asleep in the middle of the night, but by the time she woke up at the third watch, she had put on her clothes and was standing in front of Himavant's face, which was as pale as death. Everything seemed to have come to an end by the time the sun rose - if I had given my body to the god I believed in, it would have been a body that would have lived for a long time, that sacrifice But I have another god, there is no other opportunity for me to give Even if I had told Himavant that I had he would have been able to let go of Debasish Bandopadhyay. given birth to a physical child, a child like Himavant, my love for Himavant would have melted away. But even if that hadn't happened, it enough for Himavant to have lived for a thousand years, thousand years, a thousand

It was already past dawn when the note she had written would be delivered to Prarthana's doorstep, and in the Foresight Lodge, the sun was shining brightly. Deb was not in the room! But the couch, which had been a witness to his sleeping next to his bed, was still in its place, with a blanket thrown over it. On its pillow, a hairpin lay carelessly, as if Deb had just gotten up and left. Urmila got up, stretched, and began to look at her clothes. She had worn only a T-shirt under her clothes, and Deb had given her a shawl to wear, but she had forgotten to put it on. She looked like she had just woken up, and the whiskey she had drunk the night before was still swirling in her head. She got up and walked to the window, where she had hung her pashmina, and began to get dressed. She was still thinking about Deb, who was probably still in the lodge, and she was worried that he might have gone out to swim in the nearby lake. She had heard him singing an old Hindi song, and she had followed him to the lake, where he had been swimming with a towel wrapped around his waist. She had watched him from a distance, and when he had come out of the water, he had seen her and had come over to her. She had felt a little annoyed with him, and had thought to herself, "Stupid!" But they had both been happy the night before, and Deb had been drinking too much, and had been singing that old song, and she had been listening to felt a little sleepy. She had thought to herself, "I should have gone to him and woken him up," but too lazy. Now, as she was getting dressed, she was thinking about Deb, and how he had been drinking too much, singing that old song, looking at her with his eyes, talking to her in a deep voice. her, to her, old song. had been, was now, going to be. she was feeling a little annoyed with him, and she was thinking to herself, "I should have gone to him and woken him up." But she had been too lazy, and now she was getting dressed, about Deb, and how he had been, was now, going to be. she was feeling a little annoyed with him, and she was thinking to herself, "I should have gone to him and woken him up." But Deb was not a foolish person, he boy who would do something foolish, he was a boy from a rich family, and he was used to being careful, but now he was being foolish, drinking too much, singing that old song, looking at her with his eyes, talking to her in a deep voice. She was thinking about Deb, and how he had been, was now, going to be, and she was feeling a little annoyed with him, and to herself, "I should have gone to him and woken him up." But Deb was not a foolish person, he boy who would do something foolish, he was a boy from a rich family, and he was used to being careful, but now he was being foolish, drinking too much, singing that old song, looking at her with his eyes, talking to her in a deep voice.

As Himavant walked away, Prarthana's face softened. She thought to herself that it was pure foolishness to assume that she loved a man just because he had told her so. She had left Shivamogga, a small town in Channarayapatna, with a sense of determination. She had a promise to keep, herself that she would not repeat the mistakes of her past. She had been foolish once, and she had paid the price.

Just then, Rasool Jamadar, the caretaker of the estate, called out to her. "Taku caru, my daughter, you look beautiful today. You have a bright future ahead of you, and I'm sure you'll make a great impression." Prarthana smiled politely, but her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking about Jayanth, the man who had promised to marry her, but had never kept his word.

As she walked towards the car, she saw Jayanth's estate in the distance. She felt a pang of sadness in her heart. She had given him her love, her trust, and her everything, but he had betrayed her. She had been foolish to think that he would change, love her back.

Rasool Jamadar opened the car door for her, and she got in. As they drove back to the estate, she couldn't help but think about Jayanth. She wondered why he had come back so quickly, and what he wanted from her. She knew that she had to be careful, that she couldn't let her emotions get the better of her.

As they arrived at the estate, Prarthana saw Jayanth standing by the gate, a look of concern on his face. He had come back, and he was looking for her. She felt a mix of emotions - anger, sadness, and a hint of hope. She didn't know what to expect, but she knew that she had to be strong.

Jayanth came up to the car and opened the door. "Prarthana, I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I know I hurt you, and I don't blame you for being angry with me. But I want you to know that I love want to make it right between us."

Prarthana looked at him, her eyes searching for the truth. She knew that she had to be careful, that she couldn't let her emotions cloud her judgment. She took a deep breath and looked away, her mind racing with thoughts and feelings. She didn't know what to say, but be strong.

As she looked away, she saw Jayanth's eyes, filled with tears and regret. She saw the pain and the sadness in his eyes, and for a moment, she felt a pang of sympathy for him. But she knew that she couldn't let her emotions get the better of her. She had to be strong, for herself, and for her future.

"Prarthana, please listen to me," Jayanth said, his voice filled with desperation. "I know I made a mistake, but I want to make it right. marry you, and spend the rest of my life with you."

"Prarthana, please," Jayanth said, his voice filled with desperation. "Don't leave me. I promise I'll do anything to make it right between us."

Did she not say, "I don't want to see Jayanth in the house again, speaking of ogre-like things"? Even at that moment, she had made up her mind that she would never love any man for the rest of her life. Love is like a season; if it rains today, tomorrow it will be a scorching heat. If you get a thorn in the gap between two stones, it will prick you all the time. It's the same with love; it's a thorn that It's something that you have to endure in life, but it's not can keep forever.

The girl who has made up her mind that love is nothing but a lie, a mere illusion, has to put on a mask of love and pretend to be in love with every man. In Kaveramma's house, there is no one who has not Even Jayanth, who is not from Madikeer Estate, has to wear in front of Kaveramma. Every man It's a mere illusion, a lie that we call love.

You have to tell every man that love is a lie, that it's not something that you can keep forever. them that it's a thorn that will prick you all the time. If you don't have love, the pain will haunt had me, Deb, you would have been happy

Deb listened and said, "It's not just happiness; you would have been with me all the time." Deb's hand was shaking as he said, "Don't talk nonsense; what's the point of having it?" I'm talking about the body; I'm not soul. You're one of the ten boys who have been to Kaveramma's house; how many times have you been there? with her? happy with her?

Tell me, Deb, how many times have you been happy with her? The coffee is over, the cigarette is finished, the whiskey is gone, and the hangover is still there. How many hours in that state?

Let's have a drink, Deb. How many years is it since I've seen you? It's been so long that I've almost forgotten what it's like to be with you. I'm not even sure if I can call it a memory anymore.

Every morning and every evening, I've been thinking of you. Every time I see a bird in a cage, I think of you.

You're sitting in front of me now, drinking whiskey. Every time you talk about your pain, I feel a pang in my heart.

You're saying that you're going to end it all tonight.

But I'm not going to let you do that. do that.

You're talking about your desires, your longings.

But is it really love? Is it really love?

You're saying that you want to be with me,

You're talking about your pain, your suffering.

Deb, you're not even aware of what you're saying. you're saying.

Himavant sat there, his eyes fixed on the forest. "Tell me, what is it that drives a man to hunt? Is it for the thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of a kill, or is it something more? Something that drives him to venture into the darkness, to face the unknown, and to risk his life for the sake of a fleeting moment of triumph?" He paused, his eyes narrowing as he gazed into the forest. "I don't know, maybe it's just the thrill of the hunt. Maybe it's the rush of adrenaline that comes with the uncertainty of it all. But what is it that makes a man like me, a man who has seen the worst of humanity, to still want to hunt? feel that rush, that sense of power and control over the natural world?"

He took a sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving the forest. "I don't know, maybe it's just a habit. Maybe it's something that's been ingrained in me since childhood. But what is it that drives a man to continue doing something that he knows is wrong? will ultimately lead to his downfall?"

As he spoke, a figure emerged from the darkness of the forest. It was Prarthana, her eyes fixed on Himavant with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Deb, what are you doing out here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Himavant turned to her, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and sadness. "I'm just trying to understand myself, Prarthana. I'm what drives me to do the things I do. To hunt, to kill, to destroy."

Prarthana took a step closer to him, her eyes never leaving his face. "Deb, you're not just a hunter. You're a complex person with a rich inner life. driven by instinct and habit. You're driven by emotions, by desires, by a deep-seated need for connection and meaning."

Himavant's eyes narrowed, his face twisted in a mixture of pain and anger. "You don't understand, Prarthana. You don't understand what it's like to be me. To be a man who has seen the worst of humanity, who has been driven to the edge of madness and despair by the cruelty and indifference of the world."

Prarthana took another step closer to him, her eyes filled with compassion and understanding. "I may not understand, Deb, but I'm here for you. I'm here to listen, to support you, to help you find your way through the darkness."

As she spoke, Himavant's expression softened, his eyes filling with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. "Thank you, Prarthana. Thank you for being here for me. For understanding me, for seeing me for who I truly am."

And with that, the two of them stood there, locked in a moment of intense emotional connection, their eyes speaking a language that went beyond words.

If this were to continue, she would have to leave the room, unable to bear the sight of the bed where she had spent the night with Himavant. By morning, the thought of him had already begun to haunt her. "Am I going to die?" she had asked herself, the question still echoing in her mind. She had not been able to shake it off.

Himavant had left, his face a picture of disappointment. Had he not been so, she would have been the first to know. Was his foot still stuck in the door? Perhaps he had not even bothered to take it out. It was possible that looked back.

She was stuck in this small room, her fingers entwined in a futile attempt to calm herself down. Prarthana had grown up in Shivamogga, a city that had been her home for as long as she could remember. She had always been driven by a singular goal - to win the world, to become a legend. She had never wavered in her resolve, never doubted herself.

But now, as she lay in bed, she felt a creeping sense of doubt. Was she still the same person she had once been? Had she lost her way, her focus? The thought was unbearable. She had to get out of this room, to shake off the feeling of being trapped.

Prarthana's eyes wandered to the book on her lap, the one Himavant had been reading to her. She had been listening, entranced, as he had read the words of the great poet. But now, as she looked at the book, she felt a pang of guilt. Had she been so caught up in her own thoughts that she had not even noticed when he had stopped reading?

The thought was a bitter pill to swallow. She had been so caught up in her own world that she had not even noticed when he had left. And now, as she lay in bed, she felt a sense of loss, of emptiness.

Prarthana's eyes welled up with tears as she thought of Himavant, of the way he had looked at her, touched her. She had never felt this way about anyone before, and it scared her. She did not know how to deal with these feelings, with this sense of vulnerability.

As she lay in bed, Prarthana felt a sense of unease, disquiet. She did not know what the future held, but she knew that she could not stay in this room, stuck in her own thoughts. She had to get out, to face the world, to find a way to overcome her doubts and fears.

But for now, she just lay there, her eyes fixed on the book, her heart heavy with emotion. She knew that she had to find a way to move on, to leave the past behind. was stuck, unable to move forward.

Himavant sat alone in the 8-seater car that Prarthana had left behind, sipping tea and lost in thought. The night wind was rustling the leaves of the tree above, making a soothing sound. If he saw flowers, his life would be hers. Perhaps he had forgotten and she was gone, and there was no one from Davanagere to come and pick him up, or that he would go to the bus stand and wait for her to come, but all that seemed like a foolish fantasy now; all that mattered was that she had forgotten him, and that was just the flower. If then what was the point of his existence? He thought about how he would have been if she hadn't left him, and the answer eluded him.

A second question arose in his mind: if she were to leave him now, what would he do? Himavant's face turned grave, his eyes narrowed, and a small bead of sweat appeared on his forehead. His teeth clenched, and he spoke to himself in a clear voice: "Prarthana didn't leave me; she was taken away from me." His mind was in turmoil. For him, Prarthana was not just a name, girl, but his beloved, his everything. She was the sum of his countless dreams, the ultimate goal of his life, the purpose of his existence. If he had been able to make her his own, he would have been a happy man, but now he was just a dreamer, a man who chased his dreams, a practical man who made his dreams come true. But now, man who had lost his dream, his beloved Prarthana.

Just then, Dr. Rasool Jamadar arrived at 8 o'clock sharp. Himavant's head was still reeling from the shock, and he felt a strange sensation, like a numbness, and then it was all over, normal again.

Himavant thought to himself, "Shouldn't she have arrived ten minutes ago? Prarthana has gone to Shivamogga. She was talking a lot. Along with all her friends, she had come to the canal as if to take a walk. This morning, at three o'clock, she had gone to the bus stop. She had told me to look out for her, and Himavant was happy; he was thinking, 'Perhaps she will come in a car, from Davanagere.' 'How long will she take to come?' he thought. I don't know. If I had looked at the road from that distance, I would have known how far away she was. But I didn't look, and now my heart is racing like a madman. Rasool Jamadar was talking to me, even notice. If he had come to the room a little earlier, if I had seen Prarthana, something unthinkable would have happened. But did the 45-year-old Jamadar know that something like this would happen? Could anyone have imagined such a thing? For a few minutes, the three of them talked. They closed the door and went out. Rasool Jamadar had decided that he would go, but he would come back to the room, and when he left, he would talk to Himavant. But he wouldn't leave until he had seen the Jamadar's work at the land's turn. was going on in the field, and Himavant was sure that there was no trouble. He had returned to Shivamogga and was at peace, but Rasool Jamadar was going, and he was going with a strange sense of unease. He walked quickly to the iron gate of the room, his eyes fixed on the gate. The Jamadar's workers looked at him with a new kind of look, but Himavant didn't respond to them. It was as if he had reached a point where he didn't care about anything. The Jamadar's face was not calm; was asking, 'What if Prarthana doesn't come?' His words were like the waves of the ocean, crashing against his eyelids. He opened the gate and went in, and when he closed the gate, he leaned against it, his back against the door. He took out a strange object from his pocket. His eyes were fierce, and he was like a man who had been waiting for a long time for something to happen. time for a calamity to strike. From this moment on, he was completely prepared for anything. His eyes were fixed on the object in his hand, and he was like a man who had been waiting for a long time for something to happen.

Himavant sat, looking at the object. Then he placed it on his iron plate and went to the room where he would burn the incense. Even after he had gone, the object kept moving in his eyes like a picture, and the fingers of Prarthana, who was sitting inside, were trembling slightly as she recited the shlokas. She was alone in the room. Normally, on evenings, Urmi would go out, and most of the time, she with Debu. But Prarthana loved Urmi with a genuine affection, even though she was a servant. If Urmi was not there on such evenings when she was reciting the shlokas, it would be as if she was praying to a stone idol. The photograph of the deity in front of her was of Hima, but the deity whose eyes were fixed on her was Hima.

As the fragrance of the incense stick, which was burning slightly, wafted through the room, Prarthana wrapped the stick around her and began to sway gently, as if she was floating in the air. If the stick had completely burned out and its fragrance had disappeared, she would have pointed to the photograph of the deity and said that she had forgotten Hima. But she was praying for the strength to love Hima as much as she could, and hate Debu. "Oh, God, give me much as I can. Give me Don't let me deceive Hima."

Her words were not audible, but they seemed to have turned into whispers and escaped through the window. Just then, the sound of a knock on the door was heard. It was Urmi, who had come to see if Prarthana was alone. She was alone, and when she opened the door, she found the hospital's employee standing there. "Whoever it is, please come in," she said, and went out.

Himavant had come and gone, hadn't he? Prarthana thought to herself, and immediately the same thought occurred to her. She had sent Himavant away, hadn't she? him away with a heavy heart, hadn't she? Or had she sent him away because she thought he would come back to her at this moment? Had he gone to Davanagere from Shivamogga?

As she thought this, a thought occurred to her - Himavant might be standing at the hospital's gate. She quickly got up, went to the bathroom, and took a bath. She put on a light yellow sari and a yellow blouse, and mirror. She looked at her reflection, and then began to comb her hair. pair of slippers and went out.

It was Prarthana who had come running to the door, saying "He has come, he has come" as if she had suddenly remembered something. "Wonderful, just wonderful, like a handful of flower petals, this Prarthana is so charming. What beauty is this? Don't even think about it, it's just too beautiful. It's as if Debashish Chandranath Bandopadhyay himself has come. The snake has bitten her, and she has died like a leaf on a tree, saying "I'm going back to the door again."

The man who had come was not at home, Debashish. Just like that, she had told him to go, and he had gone. Even if come back, the words had not come out of her mouth, and her eyes had not welled up with tears. It was as if she had made a mental note to forget him, and not to think about him again. But now, as she stood there, she felt a sudden pang in her heart.

She had gone to the bathroom, and Debashish had not followed her. She had thought that he would come with her, but he had not. she would tell him to she would ask she had not.

She had gone to the bathroom

Himavant thought to himself, "If I had to be a cheat, would I even think of it? Is it possible for me to throw Deb, that sinner, to a distant place?" Deb was speaking in a single tone, as if it was not possible at all. Prarthana was sitting on the adjacent seat, listening to his words for the first time; but she was not paying attention to him; even looking at him; her mind was preoccupied with the smoke of the cigarette that was rising from the side, and the pungent smell of the expensive perfume that Deb was wearing. It was not possible for her to think of anything else.

In this way, Deb was speaking in a very casual tone, as if he was talking to himself. He was telling her about his college's big event, about the Sappapuhudeyudu that was going to take place in the playground; about it as if it was a trivial matter, without any seriousness. Prarthana was looking at his big, curly hair, and his dark, long eyelashes; she was admiring his beauty, and she was not paying attention to his words. If Himavant was there, he would have made her wear a cross and a rosary; pray, and promise to be good.

But Himavant was not there; he was not even thinking about Prarthana. He had not thought about her at all. It was already night when he came to the room. Prarthana had already gone to bed, and she was sleeping with a worried expression on her face. Himavant was not there to comfort her; he was not even thinking about her.

For the first time, Himavant felt that he had done something wrong. He had come to a forbidden place, and he had stayed there. this place four times before, but he had never felt this way. He had seen the colorful decorations, the flowers on the tip of the bed, the curtains that were hanging from the ceiling; strange silence that filled the room, and the excitement that was building up outside the door; welcome that was waiting for him, the thrill of being in a new place. But this time, he felt something different.

It was nothing new to Himavant; he had seen it all before. The well-organized prostitute, who had come to his house from Davanagere, would be quiet and still in the middle of the day. The only sound would be the occasional drop of a tear; the only movement, a slight twitch of the eyelid. It was a fleeting moment, a mere whisper of a word; a clear and distinct expression of gratitude. It would all be over in ten minutes, and there would be no more commotion. But today, something was different.

As he sat in the coffeehouse with Urmi, he had made up his mind to do something. He had decided to take a risk, to be bold. He had never been one to be timid or hesitant. He had always been a man of action, and he was not about to change now.

Urmi's innocent and carefree nature had rubbed off on him, and he had become more cautious. He had learned to be more considerate, to think before acting. But he had not lost his sense of adventure, his desire to take risks. And so, he had made up his mind to do something that would change his life forever.

Urmi had taught him that a woman's body was not just a tool for pleasure, but a temple that needed to be respected and revered. She emotions were means to an end, but a complex and multifaceted thing understood and appreciated. And he had learned from her that a woman's love was not just a physical thing, but a deep and abiding connection that went to the very heart of a man.

As he sat in the coffeehouse, sipping his coffee and watching Urmi, he felt a sense of pride and satisfaction. He had learned so much from her, and he knew that he would always be grateful to her. And so, he made up his mind to do something that would make her proud of him, show her that he had learned from her and was now a changed man.

Urmi looked at him with a curious expression, and asked him, "What are you thinking, Himavant?" He smiled and replied, "I am thinking of doing something that will make you proud of me." Urmi's eyes lit up with interest, and she is it?" Himavant hesitated for a moment, and then said, "I want to meet your family, mother."

Urmi's expression changed, and she looked at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. She asked him, "Why do you want to meet my mother?" Himavant replied, "I her because I want to show her that I am a changed man, that I have learned from you and am now a better person."

Urmi looked at him for a long time, and then said, "I will take you to meet my mother, but you have to promise me one thing." Himavant nodded eagerly, and Urmi said, "You that you will be honest with her, tell her the truth about yourself." Himavant nodded again, "Good, I will take you to meet my mother now."

Himavant's thoughts were a jumble of emotions as he sat in the visitor's room of the hostel, waiting for Prarthana to return. He had been told that she was not in her room, and he had a feeling that something was amiss. looking forward to meeting her, and now he was starting to feel anxious. He thought about how so careless in his words, and how he had hurt her feelings. He wished he could take it back, but it was too late now.

As he sat there, he couldn't help but think about how Prarthana's personality was maturing with each passing year. She was no longer the carefree girl he had met five years ago. She had grown into a confident and determined young woman, and he admired her for it. He thought about how she had been so kind to him, and taken care of him when he was feeling down.

Just then, the door to the visitor's room opened, and Prarthana walked in. She looked a bit flustered, and Himavant could tell that something was wrong. "Dear Prarthana, I've come from Shivamogga," he said, trying to sound calm. "I've brought some food for you, and I was hoping we could talk."

Prarthana looked at him warily, and Himavant could sense that she was still hurt by his words earlier. "I'm not sure I want to talk to you right now," she said, her voice firm but controlled. "I need some time to think."

Himavant nodded, feeling a pang of regret. He knew he had hurt her, and he didn't know how to make it right. "I understand," he said, trying to sound sincere. "But can I at least stay here for a while? I promise I won't bother you."

Prarthana hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay, you can stay. But please, don't expect me to talk to you right now. I need some time to think."

Himavant nodded, feeling a sense of relief. He knew he had a long way to go to make things right with Prarthana, but he was willing to try. He sat down in the corner of the room, trying to give her space, and waited for her to come to him when she was ready.

Himavant was telling Sareena that when he had gone to the hostel's night gate, he had seen Prarthana and Kadeeramma walking together. He had told her that he was going to meet Kadeeramma in the room, but he wouldn't tell her what it was about. Sareena asked him to hurry up and join her Himavant said that he had written a letter to the warden and had given it to the receptionist, and that he would be back soon.

When he returned, he found Sareena dressed in a pair of jeans and a light-colored angavastram, holding a bag in her hand. She had gone to the hostel's visitors' room, where she had met a girl named Urmila, who was wearing the same kind similar-colored angavastram. Himavant was surprised to see Urmila, who looked like she had just walked out of a nearby town. Many people were staring at her as she walked by, but Himavant didn't notice anything unusual.

Urmila was the one who had been in a hurry, rushing in and out of the hostel, her head full of thoughts. She state of turmoil, but when she saw Himavant sitting on the sofa, she stopped in her tracks and stood up, her eyes fixed on him. She had been so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn't even noticed Kadeeramma, who was next to Himavant,

Urmila had been so engrossed in her own world that she hadn't even noticed Kadeeramma, who was sitting on the sofa next to Himavant, her eyes fixed on him. When she saw Himavant's reaction, she was taken aback, and she didn't know what to do. She had never seen anyone react like that before, how to respond.

Prarthana, who was sitting next to Himavant, looked at Urmila with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. She had never seen anyone like Urmila before, and she didn't know what to make of her. Urmila, on the other hand, was still trying to process what had just happened. react like that how to respond.

As the two girls stood there, frozen in time, Himavant looked at them with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. He didn't know what to make of Urmila, and how to respond to her. Prarthana, on the other hand, was still trying to process what had just happened. She had never seen anyone like Urmila before, and she her.

What a strange greeting is this? In this house, no one greets anyone. The atmosphere here is one of indifference. It was Kaveramma who had stood up to greet us, her eyes flashing with a mix of respect and curiosity. Her eyes sparkled with a sense of awe, and a small sense of confusion, as if she was trying to understand something that was beyond her grasp. And then there was Himavant, who had stood up to greet us, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at us. He had a look of quiet intensity, and a sense of calm that was almost unnerving.

"Are they from Urmi's village?" Prarthana asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "They must be from our village, I think," Himavant replied, his voice firm but not unkind. "We should go to the village and see what's going on," he added, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for something.

As we walked out of the house, Kaveramma's eyes followed us, her face a picture of concern. She seemed to be asking herself if we were really who we claimed to be. And then, down the street, Urmi's eyes met Himavant's, and for a moment, they just looked at each other.

Urmi's eyes sparkled with a sense of excitement, and wonder. She seemed to be seeing something in Himavant that no one else saw. And then, as we walked further, the sky seemed to darken, and a small cloud appeared on the horizon. It was as if the universe was watching us, and waiting to see what would happen next.

We walked for a while, the silence between us growing thicker and more oppressive. And then, as we turned a corner, we saw a small hotel in front of us. It was a simple place, with no frills or fancy decorations. But it was clean, and it looked like place where people could come to rest and relax.

"Let's go in," Himavant said, his voice firm. "We can get some food and rest for a while." And so we went in, our footsteps echoing off the walls. The hotel was dimly lit, with no bright lights or loud music. It was a place of quiet and calm, where people could come to escape the hustle and bustle of the world outside.

As we sat down at a table, Urmi's eyes met Himavant's again, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. It was as if they were sharing a secret, that no one else knew. And then, as we waited for our food to arrive, the silence between us grew thicker and more oppressive. we were all waiting for something to happen, something that would change everything.

Himavant had no cigarette in his hand, yet he seemed to like this. The girl who had just stepped out of the hostel had a cigarette packet in her hand, a personification of carelessness; but the amount of time she had been standing there was enough to make her realize that it wouldn't be easy to take a puff from it. There was only one cigarette left in the packet, and she didn't have the courage to take it out. She was talking like a waterfall, her words pouring out in a torrent as she stood there, her eyes fixed on Himavant.

As she spoke, a change was taking place within her, a transformation that she was not even aware of. The most striking change was that her gaze had become fixed on Himavant, and she was no longer paying attention to the surroundings. The first change was regaining her original personality in Himavant's presence, her true self was emerging, becoming more confident and composed. The second becoming more and more detached from the world, and she was no longer concerned with what others thought of her.

As she finished speaking, she took a deep breath and looked at Himavant's face. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, and she said, "You know, every person has a private world of their own. It's a world that's hidden from the outside, and only they can enter it." She paused for a moment, and then added, "I don't think you're someone who can understand that." Her words were like a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of a young bael tree, and they fell softly on Himavant's ears.

As she spoke, a look of understanding crossed Himavant's face, and he nodded his head. He knew exactly what she meant, and he felt a sense of connection with her. He smiled, and his eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement. He said, "I think you're right, Urmi. I'm not someone who can understand that." He paused for a moment, and then added, "But I think you're

Urmi's eyes widened in surprise, and she looked at Himavant with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. She said, "You're right, I can understand that. But I don't think you're someone who can understand that." She paused for a moment, and then added, "I that, but you're not willing to admit it."

Himavant smiled again, and his eyes sparkled with amusement. He said, "I think you're right, Urmi. I'm not willing to admit it." He paused for a moment, and then added, "But I think you're someone who can understand that, and you're

Urmi nodded her head, and a look of understanding crossed her face. She said, "I think you're right, Himavant. I'm willing to admit it." She paused for a moment, and then added, "But I think you're someone who can understand that, and you're it, but you're not willing to take the next step."

Himavant's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked at Urmi with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. He said, "What do you mean?" He paused for a moment, and then added, "I think you're right, Urmi. I'm not willing to take the next step."

Urmi smiled, and her eyes sparkled with amusement. She said, "I think you're someone who can understand that, and you're willing to admit it, but you're not willing to take the next step because you're afraid of what might happen." She paused for a moment, and then added, "But I because you're risk."

Himavant walked northwards on the road, his head turned towards the hostel. He had turned his head in the direction of the hostel once again, just as he had done earlier. Prarthana was just one of the many girls, but she was the only one who didn't have an ounce of fear in her. If Himavant had spoken the truth to her, spoken to her, she would have been crying and weeping, her chest heaving with sobs, just like she was doing now in the hostel room. Five minutes had passed since she had stopped crying, and just then, a car had stopped in front of the house, its headlights shining brightly in the darkness. The name of the person who had come to visit Kaveramma was Debasish Chandrakant Bandopadhyay, and the girl who had been with him was called Urmi. If he had mentioned his friend Lavanya even once, Prarthana would have remembered it with a sense of unease, just like she was doing now in the darkness of the hostel room.

Debasish had gone to Kaveramma's house, and he had sat down in the verandah, his eyes fixed on the spot where Prarthana was sitting, her ground. If he had been sitting in the darkness, his eyes would have been Kaveramma was sitting, or if Kaveramma her Debasish was sitting. But Debasish's eyes were fixed on and Kaveramma's

That night, Prarthana's heart was filled with turmoil. She was torn between two thoughts: to do something wrong and get away with it, or to do nothing and remain in a state of uncertainty. She was unable to make up her mind, and her heart was filled with a sense of unease. She had cried the entire night, her tears flowing uncontrollably, and she had only stopped when the clock struck three in the morning. When she had seen Debasish the next day, she had known that something was amiss, but she had been unable to understand what it was.

Prarthana was not a fool to think that Debasish had come to see her because he loved her. She had seen the way he had talked to her, and had looked at her. He was a person who talked about everything under the sun, but he had not said a word to her about his feelings. It was only when he had come to see her the next day, in his car, that she had realized that something was amiss. She had been unable to understand what it was, but she had known that it was something that had to do with Debasish.

Himavant thought to himself, "Just like me, Himavant, Deb is a forest lad from Shivamogga. You're not stronger than me, but you're more intelligent than me. The cunning of the intelligent is a terrible thing. Just look at how you're in love with Deb, who is so intelligent. Deb is you, and he's stronger than you too. we walked together on the street that was crowded with people, both of us laughing and having a great time. You're not capable of controlling yourself, Prarthana. Even if you want to say something to me, you should say it in a way that's suitable for your mind. But saying something that makes you cry, that's not something you should do. My eyes are filled with tears, just thinking about it. I'm telling you, Prarthana, don't do You're still a child, and you don't know how to control yourself.

You're crying because of a simple lie you wrote on a piece of paper, saying that you went with Deb. Was that really necessary? Was it wrong to make friends with Deb? Don't you have any other friends, Urmi? Why are you crying so much? You're crying because you love Deb, and that's not something you should be ashamed of. You didn't tell Deb that you love him, did you? you're thinking about it, Prarthana. what Deb would do if he knew

You're thinking about it, but you're not going to tell him, are you? You're going to keep it a secret, and that's why you're crying. You're crying because how Deb would react if he knew that you love him. You're thinking about it, but you're not going to tell him, Prarthana.

Her heart was heavy, and by the time the morning sun had risen, she had been crying for hours. Prarthana's eyes were red and swollen, like two burning coals. She had washed her face to make it look fresh, but her eyes still betrayed her. She had tied her hair into a neat bun, but a few strands had escaped, framing her face like a halo. She wore a white choodi, a gift from Himavant, and sat in the corner of the room, lost in thought.

She began to recite a prayer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Oh, Bhagavan, give me the strength to face Himavant. courage to love him." This was her daily prayer, one that she had been saying for years. But today, it felt different. Today, she wondered if she was just deluding herself.

As she sat there, lost in thought, she heard the sound of footsteps outside. It was Himavant, walking towards the hostel's gate. He was a few minutes away, but she could see him from where she was sitting. He was wearing the same jeans and shirt that he always wore, and his hair was messy, as if he had just rolled out of bed.

Deb, the hostel's owner, had once told her that Himavant's speed was a sight to behold. He could run faster than any car on the road. But today, he was walking, his pace leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world. Prarthana's heart skipped a beat as she saw him. She had never seen anyone as handsome as him.

She watched as he walked towards the gate, his eyes scanning the area as if he was looking for someone. And then, he saw her. He smiled, and his eyes lit up with a spark of recognition. Prarthana's heart fluttered as she saw him approach her. She felt a flutter in her chest, a feeling that she had never experienced before.

As he drew closer, Prarthana noticed that he was carrying a small bag in his hand. It was the same bag that he always carried with him. She felt a pang of sadness, wondering what he was doing here, so early in the morning. Was he leaving? Was he going somewhere?

Prarthana's mind was a jumble of emotions as she watched Himavant approach her. She had loved him for so long, but she had never mustered the courage to tell him. She had always thought that he was out of her league, too good for her. But today, as she looked at him, she felt a sense of longing that she had never felt before.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, trying to sound casual.

"I was just going for a walk," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I saw you sitting here and thought I'd say hello."

Prarthana's heart skipped a beat as she looked at him. She felt a sense of excitement, possibility. Maybe, just maybe, today would be the day that she would finally tell him how she felt.

How much do you love me? Prarthana asked, "Sorry, I didn't know what time it was. Even if I had found out, I wouldn't have come at this hour. I had gone to sleep at the hotel and had a room made for myself. They had brought some food from Shivamogga. I was holding the plate in my hand, and I had just taken off the two napkins that I had put on it a little while ago. When I saw the sweet smell of the dish, I thought, 'Did Nandakka make this for me?' I asked Prarthana as I was getting down, 'No, I made it myself without telling anyone. I was feeling a bit lazy and didn't want to cook. I thought, 'Why should I tell anyone about it?' and came here. It's not a big deal. I'm just one person, and I can manage with what I have. If you had come earlier, I would have had to do a lot of work. I took a dish from the plate that I had just taken off a little while ago and gave it to her. She ate the sweet dish. I thought, 'What did I do to deserve such a rich man like Himavant?' I made a living by selling sweets at the stalls in Shivamogga. Is it right that Prarthana, who is a doctor, should be married to a sweets seller like me? I thought, 'Even if I became rich at some point in my life, it would be because of my hard work.' But Himavant and that's why he is rich. Can I hold his hand and walk with him for the rest of my life? But can I marry a doctor like Prarthana? Can I, who is a sweets seller, I don't know.

Himavant's mind was filled with the thought of what had happened; he was standing in front of her; he was speaking to her with a stern expression - it was as if he had taken a great deal of pleasure in it. Prarthana, who was already in a state of despair, returned to her room, feeling as if she was being led to her doom. The forest was no longer as dark as it was at night; deceit was the only thing that was the forest. It starts by crying out loud, but then everything goes smoothly. Prarthana, who was supposed to go to college that night, didn't feel like going; she didn't even want to change her clothes before going to bed. Himavant had brought her a small sweet; she had given it to her with a smile and a gentle touch, saying "Good morning" in a soft voice. As she put the sweet on the table, she wondered from where she had gotten this strange custom of saying good morning. She had thought about it, but before she could think any further, she had gone to bed. As she lay down, she had made a mental note to pray before going to sleep, but she had forgotten to do so. She had written a small note on a piece of paper, saying "Deb! Hate you!" and had placed it under her pillow. After a while, she had woken up, taken the note, and thrown it away, and then had gone back to sleep. When she woke up again, she had found that Himavant had eaten half of the sweet and had wrapped the other half in a piece of paper and taken it with him. He had gone to the fields, leaving her alone. She couldn't stay in the house; she had to go to see Ajja, the old man who lived in the nearby hill. fields, but she couldn't bear the thought of going there. Rasool Jamadar had been injured in the head and had been bleeding from the mouth; he had been in a state of great pain. Himavant had been caring for him, but now he was acting strangely. He was holding his head in both hands and lying down, as if he was The pain was so intense that it was making him scream. Rasool Jamadar couldn't understand what was happening to Himavant; he was trying to explain, but Himavant wasn't listening. He was in a state of great pain, and happening to him. Even after a while, Himavant didn't explain what had happened to him; he just kept lying down, holding his head in both hands.

It was as if all these events had unfolded in their own unique ways, and yet, they were all connected to Rasool Jamadar. The Jamadar's life had become a haven of prosperity, a far cry from the struggles he had faced in the past. The young boy from the Goan family, Himavant, had given his life in the most extraordinary way, his slender body tied to a lungee, hanging from a tree, as if he was dancing in the wind. However, according to the post-mortem report, the boy had died of heart failure, caused by the weight of the lungee on his slender body.

The news of the boy's death had sent shockwaves through the town, and it seemed as if the very fabric of society had been torn apart. Rasool Jamadar, who had been instrumental in had become a man consumed by guilt and anxiety. He who was haunted by the memories of the boy's death, and the thought of facing the inspector, who was determined to bring him to justice, filled him with dread.

The inspector, Himavant, had become a man on a mission, driven by a desire for justice and a need to uncover the truth behind the boy's death. He was a man who was not afraid to take risks, and he was willing to go to any lengths to ensure that justice was served.

Meanwhile, in a small village in Shivamogga, a young woman named Prarthana was on the brink of giving birth. She was a woman who was filled with anxiety and fear, not knowing what the future held for her and her unborn child. Her husband, Nandakka, was a man who was consumed by anxiety and worry, and he was not sure how to cope with the situation.

As Prarthana's labor pains intensified, she began to feel a sense of unease and discomfort. She was a woman who was not sure if she was ready to become a mother, and the thought of giving birth filled her with fear and anxiety. Her husband, Nandakka, was by her side, trying to comfort her and reassure her that everything would be okay.

However, as the labor pains continued, Prarthana's condition began to deteriorate. She was a woman who was in a state of distress, and her husband's attempts to comfort her only seemed to make things worse. The doctor, who had been called to attend to her, was a man who was filled with concern and worry. He not sure what was wrong with Prarthana, and he was not sure how to treat her.

As the situation continued to deteriorate, Prarthana's husband, Nandakka, became increasingly anxious and worried. He was a man who was not sure how to cope with the situation, and he was filled with fear and uncertainty. The doctor, who was trying to attend to Prarthana, filled with concern and worry. He not sure what was wrong with Prarthana, not sure how to treat her.

In the end, it was not just Prarthana's health that was at stake, but also the health of her unborn child. The situation was one that was filled with uncertainty and fear, and it seemed as if the very future of the family was hanging in the balance.

Himavant sat silently in the field, his eyes fixed on the ground. Prarthana's words were like a knife to his heart. He couldn't understand what she was trying to say. When he looked at her, eyes would flutter and she would ask, "What happened, Himavant? When will I die? Please have mercy on me." She would try to move her eyes with great difficulty, and sometimes she would even lift her hands and greet him. Tears would well up in her eyes and fall onto her cheeks, and Himavant would be overcome with a sense of helplessness.

He knew that she was going to die, and that it was a matter of days. He had accepted it, but he didn't know how to stop it. save her or alleviate her suffering. He felt like he was carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders. He thought about the uselessness of his knowledge, the futility of his efforts, and the fact that he was unable to do anything to help her.

That night, under the light of the full moon, Himavant sat in the field, his mind consumed by thoughts of Prarthana's impending death. He thought about the uselessness of his knowledge, the futility of his efforts, and the fact that he was unable to do anything to help her. He felt like he was carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders.

He thought about the fact that he had been to Ajji's house, and told her that if she didn't come back in two days, he would be left alone. unable to bear the loneliness, and that forced to leave the field and go to the city. He had said bear the thought of living without her.

As he sat in the field, he thought about the words of the old man, Aliyandar, who had told him that he should not have come to the field, have stayed in the city. fact that he had ignored the old man's words, and anyway.

He thought about the fact that he had been warned by the other villagers, that they had told him that the field was cursed, that it was a place of death. But he had ignored their warnings, and he had come to the field anyway.

As he sat in the field, he thought about the fact that he was going to lose Prarthana, be left alone. he would have to leave the field, that go to the city and start a new life. would never see Prarthana again, hold her in his arms again.

He felt a sense of despair wash over him, hopelessness. He felt like he was trapped in a nightmare, from which he would never wake up. losing his grip on reality, slipping into madness.

Himavant's eyes were filled with a deep sadness as he gazed at his grandfather's face, which was pale and worn out. His grandfather's eyes, which had once shone bright with a fierce intensity, now seemed dull and lifeless. Himavant's heart ached as he thought about the countless times his grandfather had scolded him, he had been forced to endure his grandfather's wrath. But now, as he looked at his grandfather's frail form, he felt a pang of guilt and regret.

Prarthana tried to avoid Debu, who was notorious for his cunning and deceit. She would often write notes and hide them in small pieces of paper, which she would then place in various books and notebooks, or even in her night bag. Whenever she needed to see Debu, she would make sure to be in the library by the time he arrived, and she would pretend to be engrossed in her studies. But as soon as Debu left, she would quickly pack up her things and head back to her room, where she would spend the rest of the day in quiet contemplation.

Since the day Himavant had brought her food from Shivamogga, Prarthana had been living in a state of numbness, her heart heavy with a sense of loss. She had no idea how Debu had come to be in her life, or how he had managed to insinuate himself into her heart. She felt like a ship without a rudder, drifting aimlessly on the waves of fate.

Himavant's words echoed in her mind: "You can worship me as a god, but you must not deceive me." But Debu's presence in her life had awakened a deep sense of longing within her, a longing that she couldn't shake off. She felt like she was living in a state of suspended animation, unable to move forward or backward.

As she lay in bed, Prarthana's thoughts turned to Debu, and she felt a surge of emotions rise up within her. She thought about the way he had smiled at her, touched her hand, and looked at her with such intensity. shiver run down her spine as she remembered whispered in her ear, "You are mine, Prarthana. You are mine."

Prarthana's eyes fluttered open, and she saw Debu standing in front of her, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. She felt a jolt of fear run through her, and she tried to sit up, but Debu's hand on her shoulder held her back. "Don't try to escape, Prarthana," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "You are mine, and I will never let you go."

There was a faint hum of a hundred emotions in the air on Saturday nights when Urmi would drink two glasses of whiskey and sit on the bed, surrounded by the smoke of cigarettes. Just like now, she had wrapped herself in a blanket and was sitting with her eyes fixed on the cigarette in her hand. Deb had left her just like that, without even a glance. He was her savior, her confidant, her everything. His voice was like a gentle breeze, his words were like a soothing melody, his presence raging storm, and his absence dead silence. But Urmi had not drunk whiskey this time. There was a strange smell in the air, a smell of some perfume. She looked at the cigarette in her hand and wondered if she had lit it or not. She didn't even remember lighting it. She looked around and saw that the room was empty, except for the faint glow of the cigarette. She felt a sense of unease, being lost. She thought to herself, "What if Deb had come back? What if he had found me like this?" shiver run down her spine as she thought about it. how she would have pretended to be calm, hidden her true feelings from him. have told him that she was fine, just tired. But Deb was not here now. He had left her, and she was alone. She looked at the cigarette in her hand and felt a sense of emptiness. She thought about how she had always been like this, alone. never been able to open up to anyone, trust anyone. always been a mystery to herself, a puzzle that she couldn't solve. And then she looked at Prarthana's face, and saw the concern etched on her forehead. "Did Deb come back?" Urmi asked, trying to sound casual. "Did he come to the hostel?" Prarthana looked at her, eyes searching for something. "No, he didn't come," she said finally. "But I think he's looking for you." Urmi felt a surge of panic, a sense of being trapped. She thought about how she had always been like this, running from her feelings. never been able to face her fears, confront her demons. And then she looked at Prarthana, and saw the understanding in her eyes. "I'm fine," Urmi said, trying to sound calm. "I'm just tired." Prarthana looked at her, eyes searching for something. "You're not fine," she said finally. "You're not tired." Urmi felt a sense of unease, being trapped. And then she looked at Prarthana, and saw the concern etched on her face. "What's wrong?" Urmi asked, trying to sound casual. "You're not telling me something," Prarthana said, her voice barely above a whisper. the truth." Urmi felt a sense of panic, being trapped. "You're not tired."

Himavant walked out of the hostel, humming a tune as he strolled along the walls of the hostel's courtyard. Meanwhile, Prarthana was walking towards the hostel, her eyes fixed on the dark green Mercedes that was parked nearby. It was a car that had been parked there for a while, and Deb had been using it to go to college. Although Deb had two cars, this was the one he used the most, and sight to behold. Deb had adorned the car with a three-piece suit, a white shirt, and a light blue tie, making it look like a god from the heavens had descended upon earth.

"Are you wearing a tie to go to the evening classes?" Prarthana asked, laughing at the sight of the car. Deb looked at her with a smile, "You think this is just for the evening classes? This is for the hunt, my dear. And I'm not just going to hunt for any ordinary prey. I'm the most elusive one of all."

Prarthana looked at him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "And what makes you think you can catch it?" Deb looked at her with a confident smile, "I've been practicing my hunting skills for a while now, and I'm confident that I can catch it."

Just then, Deb's car suddenly screeched to a halt, and he jumped out of it. Prarthana looked at him in surprise, "What's wrong?" Deb looked at her with a sheepish grin, "I think I might have hit something."

Prarthana got out of the car and looked at the damage. Deb had hit a small girl, who was standing on the road. She was crying, and Deb looked at her with a mixture of guilt and concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, rushing to her side.

The girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes, "I was just walking home from school." Deb looked at her with a sympathetic expression, "Don't worry, I'll take you home. My car is damaged, but I'll make sure you get home safely."

As they walked towards the girl's house, Prarthana couldn't help but notice the way Deb was looking at the girl. It was a look of concern and kindness, and she feel a pang of jealousy. She had always known that Deb had a soft spot for her, but she had never seen him look at anyone else with such kindness.

When they reached the girl's house, Deb helped her inside and made sure she was okay. As they were leaving, the girl's mother came out and thanked Deb for taking care of her daughter. Deb smiled and said, "It was nothing, ma'am. I'm just glad I could help."

As they walked back to the hostel, Prarthana couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. She had always known that Deb was a kind person, but she had never seen him like this before. She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern, "Deb, what's going on? You seem different today."

Deb looked at her with a sheepish grin, "I don't know what you're talking about." Prarthana looked at him with a skeptical expression, "Don't lie to me, Deb. I know you're hiding something."

Himavant thought that perhaps only in the matter of his story, the letter he had written and kept in his anatomy book that night at the Forest Lodge near Shivamogga was still there. Urmila, the nurse, recalled it without any unease and went towards the bathroom. In the stereo, Nahmad Rafee Deb was already smoking his second cigarette. Prarthana was not present, nor was there any hope of her presence; she was not even a thought in his mind, as if she had been erased from his memory; he spoke in a loud voice, as if he was talking to himself, about the physiology professor, leaving everything else behind. Perhaps Deb liked it that way, because it was impossible to provoke him; reject his arrogance. With his wealth, his elegance, his beauty, and his immense talent for reading, could anyone reject him? But arrogance. He had promised on a note that he loved her, and now he was saying with the same sincerity, as if he was writing it in a letter. But the next moment, he was asking Urmila if she had lost the letter he had written and kept in the Forest Lodge in Shivamogga. Had she forgotten it? Did she want an answer? She should know; every letter wants an answer. It is the writer's right!

In the dim light of the bathroom, Deb's words hit Urmila like a small blow. "Are you also in the same mood?" Deb asked. Urmila's response was sharp. "You are not even a little bit like that, Deb. I am not that kind of girl who believes in empty words and goes away. girl who is afraid of the wind. wind

The memories of that night still linger in my mind like a thorn that refuses to be pulled out. The expressions on Urmi's face, which had been so serene, suddenly changed to a look of utter astonishment. If I had to recall that night, I would say that it was the only night in my life that I had ever experienced such a profound sense of loss. It was as if the entire world had come to an end, and I was left with nothing but the memories of that fateful night.

If I had to describe myself at that moment, I would say that I was nothing more than a mere mortal, a fragile being who had been reduced to a mere shell of his former self. I was no longer the proud and arrogant Deb, but stripped of his ego and his pride. master of my own destiny, but a mere pawn in the game of life.

Urmi, you had once told me that if I ever needed anything, I should not hesitate to ask you. But on that night, I did not ask for anything. your help, your support, or your love. even ask for your forgiveness. I simply lay there, helpless and powerless, like a leaf blown away by the winds of fate.

But even in my darkest moment, I knew that I had to hold on to something, no matter how fragile it was. And that something was my love for you, Urmi. It was a love that had been burning deep within me, growing stronger with each passing day. been my guiding light, my beacon of hope, my reason for living.

And so, I held on to that love, Urmi, even when everything else seemed to be slipping away from me. it like a lifeline, a rope that kept me afloat in the midst of the storm. a precious gem, a treasure that I would never let go of.

Urmi, I know that I was not the same person that night. I was no longer the arrogant Deb, the proud and self-assured individual who had once thought that he was invincible. master of my own destiny, but a mere mortal who had been reduced to a mere shell of his former self.

Himavant thought to himself, "Maybe I'll find out the reason and leave." But again, he had taken a liking to the idea and had sat down. He couldn't help but make up his mind to talk to her now. He wouldn't even think of asking Prarthana about it. He knew that he was her test subject. He wouldn't dare to ask her would ask someone else He thought to himself, "I'll her."

It was evening, and Prarthana, the girl, was not the one he thought she was. He had seen her in Shivamogga, eight years ago, as a beautiful sight. sitting in a bus, with her feet on the seat, and he hadn't even looked at her car. with such love, such devotion, that he had thought that he would never find such love again. He thought to himself, "Is it possible to have such devotion in this world?" "Can I even ask her about it?"

He thought to himself, "I'll ask her about it, but I'll have to be careful." careful not to hurt her." make her feel uncomfortable."

He thought to himself, "I'll just go and ask her about it." go and talk to her." go and see if she's in her room."

He got up and went to her room. He knocked on the door and said, "Deb, are you there?" He said, "Do you love me?"

Why should I let it go? She had taken a deep breath, lowered her head, and let out a loud wail. Would she have stopped if someone had tried to stop her? She had already spoken her mind, and there were no more questions left to ask. She had to give a clear answer, and if she didn't, she would have to face the consequences, just like a fool who had gone to the cremation ground with a corpse. Even a great guru like Himavant if he had done something like this once. And so, she went back to her room, thinking that she would have to face the consequences of her actions.

She lay down on the bed, but she couldn't sleep until the night was over. She was thinking about why she had rejected Debu, and why she still loved him after rejecting him. It was as if she was trying to torture herself. Why should she not love She was in a state of confusion, and she didn't know what to do. She was torn between her love for Debu and her own sense of self-respect.

As the night wore on, she finally fell asleep, exhausted. She woke up early in the morning, got dressed, and went to college. She was in a hurry, and she didn't even have time to eat breakfast. She put on her shoes, grabbed her bag, and left the house.

As she was walking to college, she saw Debu standing by the road, looking at her with a mixture of love and longing in his eyes. She felt a pang in her heart, and she couldn't help but look at him. She saw the sincerity and she knew that he loved her truly. She was struck by the depth of his love, just like a small girl is beauty of a precious stone.

She was so taken aback by the intensity of his love that she forgot to speak to him. She just looked at him, and he looked back at her, his eyes filled with love and longing. She felt a sense of guilt, knowing that she had rejected him, and she didn't know what to do. She was torn between her love for him and her own sense of self-respect.

As she walked away from him, she couldn't help but think about the consequences of her actions. She had rejected Debu, and now she was faced with the reality of her decision. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew that she had to face was determined to make things right, and she was willing to do whatever it took between them.

She got into a taxi and headed to Shivamogga, her heart heavy with emotion. She was thinking about Debu, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. She knew that she had hurt him, and she didn't know how to make things right. She was lost in her thoughts, even notice when the taxi stopped in front of the college.

Himavant was lying in his room, his eyes fixed on the wall, without a word. It was as if he had lost all sense of time. Prarthana, his wife, had left for Channarayapatna, leaving behind a note that read: "If you need me, go to my room in Shivamogga. Rasool Jamadar is in the garage; I am going to send him to you." But Himavant had not gone to the garage; he had not even moved from his spot. He was lost in thought, and the clock was ticking away.

As he sat there, he noticed a small photograph stuck to the wall, below which was a poem written in his own hand: "The wind is blowing, the lamp is burning, let the light not go out!" He read the lines again and again, and his eyes welled up with tears. He had written those lines for Prarthana, and now he felt as if he had lost her forever.

As he sat there, lost in thought, he heard a knock on the door. It was Urmi, who had come to check on him. She saw the photograph and the poem, and her eyes filled with tears. She had never seen anyone like Himavant, who loved her so deeply. She felt a sense of security with him, and now panic.

Urmi's thoughts were interrupted by a memory of Himavant's words: "You are the light of my life, Prarthana." She had heard him say those words many times, but now they seemed like a cruel joke. She thought to herself, "Is it possible for someone to love so deeply and then lose it all?"

As she sat there, lost in thought, Urmi's mind began to wander to her own future. She was going to be a doctor, and she would be back in Shivamogga in five years. She would have her own clinic, and her name would be on the signboard. But now, she felt a sense of uncertainty. What if something happened to Himavant? What if she lost him forever?

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and Urmi felt a sense of panic rising up inside her. She knew that she had to talk to Himavant, to tell him how she felt. But how could she do that? She didn't know if he would even listen to her.

Himavant's eyes had been closed for a while, but he could still see the scene unfold before him. If he were to describe it to Prarthana, he would say that it was a village that was poor, yet full of life. place where people lived with dignity, where everyone knew each other, and where the air was filled with the smell of smoke from the wood-fired stoves. If he were to describe it to Prarthana, he would say that it was a place where people lived with their hearts full of love and kindness.

As he sat there, he could see the women of the village, their faces lined with age and hardship, but their eyes still shining with a spark of hope. men, their faces weathered by the sun and the wind, but their hearts still full of laughter and joy. He could see the children, their faces full of wonder and curiosity, their eyes sparkling with excitement as they played in the streets.

But what struck Himavant the most was the way the people of the village lived with each other. They were a community, bound together by ties of love and respect. They looked out for each other, they cared and they lived together in harmony. It was a way of life that Himavant had never seen before, and it filled him with a sense of wonder and awe.

As he sat there, he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Rasool Jamadar, the village elder. "Himavant, my boy," he said, "I see you're still sitting there, lost in thought. Come, let's go for a walk. I want to show you something."

Himavant nodded, and followed Rasool Jamadar out of the village. They walked for a while, the sun beating down on them, until they came to a small clearing. In the center of the clearing was a small jeep, parked next to a large tree. Rasool Jamadar gestured to the jeep, and Himavant saw that it was his own jeep, the one he had been driving for years.

But what struck Himavant was the way the jeep was parked, with a small note on the windshield. The note read: "For Prarthana, with love." Himavant's heart skipped a beat as he read the note. He knew that Prarthana had been thinking of him, and that she had been trying to reach out to him.

Rasool Jamadar saw the look on Himavant's face, and smiled. "I think I know what's going on here," he said. "Prarthana has been thinking of you, hasn't she?"

Himavant nodded, feeling a mix of emotions. He was happy that Prarthana was thinking of him, but he was also scared. He didn't know what to do, or how to respond.

Rasool Jamadar put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, my boy," he said. "I'll take care of it. Just go back to the village, and I'll make sure that Prarthana knows how you feel."

Himavant nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He knew that Rasool Jamadar would take care of it, and that Prarthana would be okay. He turned to leave, but Rasool Jamadar stopped him.

"Wait," he said. "There's something else I want to show you."

Himavant turned back, and saw that Rasool Jamadar was holding a small package. "What is it?" he asked.

Rasool Jamadar smiled. "It's a gift for Prarthana," he said. "I want you to give it to her, and tell her that I said hello."

Himavant took the package, feeling a sense of excitement. He knew that Prarthana would love the gift, and that she would be touched by the thought.

As he turned to leave, he saw Prarthana standing in the doorway of her house. She was smiling, and her eyes were shining with happiness. Himavant felt his heart skip a beat as he saw her, and he knew that he was in love with her.

"Prarthana," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I have something for you."

Prarthana smiled, and took the package from Himavant. "What is it?" she asked.

Himavant smiled, feeling a sense of happiness. "It's a gift from Rasool Jamadar," he said. "He wants you to have it."

Prarthana opened the package, and saw that it was a small locket. Inside the locket was a picture of the two of them, taken on a sunny day in the village. Prarthana's eyes filled with tears as

I don't know why you're telling me this. You were doing the same thing as me, throwing the cigarette pack into the gutter without even noticing it. And you were also drinking, just like me. "I've left it," she said in one breath, and then stopped. "You're an interesting girl, but you're not one to be trifled with," she said. "You have a certain level of integrity that I've never seen before. But that's not the point. When you saw Deb, you didn't like him, did you? And you're not going to like him just because I do. That's not how it works.

I've never liked anyone before, not even a girl. I've always believed that men are inferior to women, and that's why I've never been in love. But Deb is different. I don't know what it is about him, but I just can't help myself. I've never felt this way about anyone before.

You're right, though. I don't know what I can do for him. If I had to give him advice, I would say that he should be more confident. He's always so hesitant and unsure of himself. But that's not something that can be taught.

I've always believed that you should be honest and straightforward, but Deb is different. He's always so guarded and secretive. I don't know what he's hiding, but I'm determined to find out.

I've been thinking a lot about this, and I've come to the realization that I'm not like other people. I don't have the same values or morals. Deb, who is so perfect and flawless. anyone else, for that matter.

I'm a product of my environment, and my environment has been shaped by my experiences. I've always been a bit of a loner, and I've never really fit in with anyone. But Deb is different. He's the first person who has ever really understood me.

I don't know what the future holds, but I do know that I'm not going to change. I'm going to keep being myself, no matter what. And if that means that Deb and I are not meant to be, then so be it.

I've been watching him from afar, and I have to say that I'm impressed. He's so focused and determined, and he's always striving to be better. I've never seen anyone like him before.

He's been watching me too, I think. He's been trying to get my attention, but I've been ignoring him. I don't know why, but I just can't seem to help myself. I'm drawn to him, and how to resist.

I've been thinking a lot about this, and I've come to the realization that I'm not in control. I'm not the one who is making the decisions. Deb is, and he's making them without even realizing it.

I'm just along for the ride, I suppose. I'm just a passenger on this journey, and I don't know where it's going to end. But I do know that I'm excited to find out.

I've been sitting in my room, trying to make sense of everything. I've been thinking about Deb and me, and I've come to the realization that we're not like other people. anyone else, for that matter.

We're a bit like the two aluminum plates that are sitting on the stove, slowly heating up. We're not doing anything in particular, but we're both aware of each other's presence. We're both waiting for something to happen, but we don't know what it is.

I've been thinking about this, and I've come to the realization that I'm not sure what I want. I'm looking for, or what I'm trying to achieve. But I do know going to give up. I'm going to keep trying, no matter what.

Himavant thought to himself, "Why should I tell Prarthana about all this? The entire Shivamogga town is talking about it. Even Shanthappa has handed over everything to me. I have to take care of it myself. think about it carefully. consider every aspect. the consequences. future. my life. family. friends. community. reputation. future. children. grandchildren. great-grandchildren. legacy. name. family's name. community's name. town's name. state's name. country's name. people's name. language's name. culture's name. tradition's name. heritage's name. history's name. identity's name. I have to think about my existence's my purpose's my reason's my goal's my target's my objective's my mission's my vision's my dream's my aspiration's my desire's my passion's my love's my heart's my soul's my mind's my body's my life's name. I have to think about my death's my afterlife's my eternity's my infinity's my time's my space's my universe's my cosmos's my reality's my truth's my honesty's my integrity's my morality's my ethics's my values's my principles's my standards's my norms's name. I have to think about my rules's my laws's my regulations's my policies's my procedures's my protocols's my guidelines's my criteria's my benchmarks's my metrics's my indicators's my measures's my assessments's my evaluations's my judgments's my decisions's my actions's my consequences's name. I have to think about my outcomes's my results's my impact's my effect's my influence's my power's my authority's my control's my dominance's my superiority's my excellence's my perfection's my completeness's my wholeness's my unity's

What's the reason? There was nothing else she needed to ask; all her questions had a clear answer, and her heart was filled with a sense of relief, like a bird that had flown out of its cage. Even Himavant, who had been so stern, looked at her with a gentle smile. "What's wrong?" he asked. "What?" "I was wondering if I would be born as our daughter in the next life?" she asked. "You want to know if you will be my wife he asked. "Whatever you say is fine; I will do whatever you want. But tell me, what is the reason behind your question?" he asked.

As he spoke, his eyes sparkled with a deep understanding, and his words were like a gentle breeze on a summer day. Urmi's eyes welled up with tears, and she felt a lump in her throat. She had never seen Himavant so gentle and understanding. sense of relief wash over her, like a wave that had been building up inside her for a long time.

It was nine o'clock at night. Urmi's mind was filled with questions, and she felt a sense of restlessness. She had to get back to the hostel, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that she had left something behind. As she walked out, emptiness, like a room that had been left unoccupied.

When she reached the hostel, she saw Himavant standing in the doorway, looking at her with a smile. She felt a sense of comfort wash over her, like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. He had an answer to all her questions, and peace settle in her heart.

"Come, let's go," he said. "I'll tell you everything. Don't worry, I'll be with you always. You'll never be alone. You'll be my wife, my friend, my mother. You'll be everything to me." His words were like a balm to her soul, and she felt a sense of joy that she had never felt before.

As they walked out of the hostel, Urmi felt a sense of excitement building up inside her. She had no idea what the future held, but she knew that she was ready for anything. to face whatever challenges came her way, as long as she had Himavant by her side.

When they reached the car, Himavant turned to her and said, "I have something to tell you. I didn't tell Prarthana about my trip to Shivamogga. I didn't want to worry her, but I couldn't keep it a secret from you. You're my wife, my friend, my everything." Urmi's heart skipped a beat as she heard his words. She felt a sense of pride and happiness that she had never felt before.

As they drove away from the hostel, Urmi felt a sense of freedom that she had never known before. She was free to be herself, to make her own decisions, to live her own life. And she knew that she would never be alone, because Himavant would always be there for her.

When they reached the house, Urmi saw a letter on the table. It was from Prarthana, and it said, "Urmi, I have made a very important decision. I have to go away for a while, and I won't be able to see you for a few days. Please don't worry, I'll be back soon. I'll tell you everything when I return." Urmi's heart sank as she read the letter. She felt a sense of sadness and worry that she had never felt before.

Himavant read the letter again, this time placing it on the table next to his washing machine. The second time, he felt even more bewildered. He changed into his spare clothes and went to the balcony, where he had hung his clothes to dry. It was the last minute, and Prarthana was already climbing up the stairs, her eyes fixed on the room. She had a faint scent of perfume on her, a hint of whiskey, and a faint mark on her neck from a kiss. He could hear the sound of her voice, a gentle whisper, as she asked him a question that he couldn't quite make out. She had taken off her slippers and was standing on the bed, her clothes unchanged, her hair disheveled. She had fallen asleep, exhausted, and was now awake, her eyes fixed on him.

The previous night, she had woken up in the middle of the night, and he could hear her sobbing in the bathroom. He had tried to comfort her, but she had pushed him away. Today, she seemed different, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. She was still in her nightgown, her hair tied up in a ponytail, and her eyes fixed on him curiosity.

"What are you thinking, Prarthana?" he asked her, trying to sound calm.

"I was thinking about you, Himavant," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. how you're always so serious, so brooding. You're like a stormy sea, always turbulent and unpredictable."

He felt a pang of guilt, knowing that he had been distant from her lately. preoccupied with his own thoughts, his own problems, and he had neglected her.

"But you're not like that, Prarthana," he said, trying to reassure her. "You're like a ray of sunshine, always bright and cheerful. You're the one who brings light into my life."

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with tears. "You're not like that, Himavant," she said. "You're like a dark cloud, always looming over me. You're the one who brings shadows into my life."

He felt a surge of anger, knowing that she was right. He had been neglecting her, ignoring her needs, and she had every right to be angry with him.

"But I'm trying to change, Prarthana," he said, trying to sound sincere. "I'm trying to be more like you, more optimistic and cheerful. I want to be the one who brings light into your life, not shadows."

She looked at him, her eyes searching for something. "I want to believe you, Himavant," she said. that you're trying to change. But it's hard for me to trust you, believe that you're truly committed to changing."

He felt a pang of sadness, knowing that he had hurt her. He knew to prove himself to her, to show her that he was truly committed to changing.

"I'll do anything to prove it to you, Prarthana," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. make you happy, to make you believe in me."

She looked at him, her eyes searching for something. And then, in a moment of tenderness, she reached out and touched his face. "I want to believe you, Himavant," she said. that you're truly committed to changing."

As she touched his face, he felt a surge of emotion, a sense of hope and renewal. He knew that he had a long way to go, but he was determined to prove himself to her, to show her that he was truly committed to changing.

Himavant had avoided all the places where he might meet her. But, he had to come to the very hostel's gate, sit down, and let all his excitement, confusion, and inner turmoil spill out. It was impossible for him to be calm and say "hello" to her. "Deb Babu, you've come for the sake of Urmi, haven't you? I'm waiting in the visitors' room," Prarthana said, standing by the door of the room. No, she hadn't come for that. She had come in search of a dream that had taken hold of her. If that dream existed anywhere, she would have found it; but if it didn't, she would leave. "Tell me, Deb Babu, if you've come for Urmi, I'll tell you something. I'm not here. She's gone to Shivamogga to make up her mind about you and Himavant," Prarthana said, her voice steady.

Deb Babu's hand, like the strings of a sitar, was steady as he spoke. Prarthana didn't remember Himavant. "I've come here today, Deb Babu, because I've decided that if you don't find me, I'll come back to you in the evening. love me, I'll find solace in the darkness of the night. I'll find comfort in the smoke of a cigarette, in the sweetness of a kiss, in the warmth of a hug. Forgive me, Prarthana, for the sake of one love, peace. Don't ask me where I've been, what I've done. I've been searching for you everywhere. You're the only girl I've ever loved, wanted. Give me one chance to tell you that, Deb Babu," Prarthana said, her voice trembling.

As Deb Babu spoke, Prarthana melted into tears, her body shaking like a leaf. "You're the last girl, Deb Babu. The last girl," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The window creaked open, and a cold wind blew in. Deb Babu was a master of silence, subtlety. He knew that sometimes, silence can be more effective than words.

Listen; I've put a cassette in your deck, Himavant, and you're filled with life. You've made a song for the occasion, haven't you? You don't need forgiveness from me; I don't want your apologies for the last time. Don't think that I'll forgive you this time either and then go to some other girl's place. You'll get into trouble again, like you always do; some kind of trouble, and I won't be able to see you again, my love. Before you leave, just say one thing to me; you won't make a fool of me, will you, Debba? If you I'll be eternally bitter towards you, and I'll lose faith in human relationships.

All my words have come to an end here. I've left you at the hostel, and after that, for the first time in my life, I've spent a night alone, drinking whiskey. I'm telling you, Debba, you're extremely emotional right now, and the words you spoke in a state of agitation won't last forever. You're much younger than me, and I'm your last girlfriend, aren't you? I don't know if I should be telling you this, but what to do. If I tell you, you'll get angry, and if I don't too.

If I tell you that I still have feelings for you, it's not love, it's just infatuation. You're a medical student, and you're the most beautiful girl in our college. Even in my dreams, I never thought I'd find a girl like you. You're the only place I've ever felt at home. Even now, I don't know if you feel the same way about me. you'll ever

If I tell you that I love you, it's not love; it's just infatuation. You're a beautiful girl, and I'm just a guy who's infatuated with you. I don't know if I should be telling you this, but what to do. If I don't tell you, you'll get angry, and if I do too.

If you go to Kaveramma's house tonight, don't go. Even if you don't go, I'll still be able to sleep peacefully, knowing that you're not with me. But if you do go, I won't that you're with someone else. I don't know if I can bear the thought of you being

I don't know if I love you, but I do know that I respect our friendship. I'll respect it even if you don't love me back. don't want to be with me. you're with someone else.

I'm telling you, Debba, I'm not sure if I can eat anything today. I'm feeling extremely hungry in the dhaba.

Himavant thought to himself, "It's all up to you." Then the small boy turned the car's wheel. After that, every step, every action, every movement of his was a pre-planned, calculated move, like two chess players making their moves in a game of chess. In the Dhaba's inner courtyard, he had set up two chairs, a table, and a coffee machine. He had invited the regular Bengali king who came to drink every day. The Dhaba boys had brought whiskey, but he had refused it, saying it was too strong, and instead ordered a vegetarian meal. After finishing the meal, he ordered a cup of hot coffee and then got up and gave the bill to the Dhaba boy. Prarthana was amazed by his generosity. What amazed her even more was the way he spoke to her. He had turned the car's wheel and was heading towards the Dhaba, when he suddenly stopped the car and turned off the engine. He didn't say a word about his ordeal, his pain, or his anxiety. He only spoke about his subject, and how he had to finish his medical studies in three years, and then go abroad for further studies. leave his family behind and live in poverty for a long time. face so many hardships, but he was determined to become a doctor. He had to study hard, abroad, and then come back and settle down. be a successful doctor, and then he could marry a woman who was intelligent and beautiful. be happy. be with the woman he loved. loved,

Himavant thought to himself, "Let it be, let it be. I'll make it happen. Prarthana was sitting in the courtyard of Dhaba, her hands folded in prayer. The car was moving slowly, like a funeral procession. I'm not doing anything wrong, am I? She turned to him and asked, "Prarthana? Are you okay? We've been together since our college days, and I've always thought of you as my guiding light. You were my everything, my reason for living. I've always believed that you're the one who makes my life worth living. But now, I'm not so sure. I've been thinking, and I've come to realize that I've been living in a dream world. I've been pretending to be someone I'm not. a doctor, but I'm not. I'm just a medical student, and I've been fooling myself into thinking that I'm something world of make-believe, lying to myself, and you. I'm sorry, Prarthana. I'm sorry for everything. I don't know what I'm doing, and who I am. I'm just a mess, how to fix myself. I'm scared, Prarthana. I'm scared of and what I've become. losing you, losing myself. to do, Prarthana. how to make things right. you happy. myself happy. I'm sorry for everything."

As he spoke, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. He felt like he had finally been able to express himself, to let out all the emotions that had been bottled up inside be honest with himself and with Prarthana.

But as he looked at Prarthana, he saw that she was not looking at him. She was staring at something behind him, and her eyes were wide with fear. Himavant turned to see what she was looking at, and he saw a vision of himself, standing on the edge of a cliff, looking out at the vast expanse of the ocean. He saw himself as a young man, full of hope and dreams, and an old man, worn down by the trials and tribulations of life.

Himavant felt a sense of shock and awe wash over him. He had never seen anything like this before. a vision of himself He felt like he was being shown a glimpse of his own mortality, and it was a sobering thought.

He turned back to Prarthana, and he saw that she was still staring at him, her eyes wide with fear. He knew that he had to tell her what he had seen, about the vision He took a deep breath, and he began to speak.

"Prarthana, I've seen something," he said. "I've seen a vision of myself, standing on the edge of a cliff, looking out at the ocean. I've seen myself as a young man, full of hope and dreams, and an old man, worn down by the trials and tribulations of life. I don't know what it means, Prarthana. it's trying to tell me. But I know that something. tell me that I'm not invincible, immortal. I'm just a human being, Prarthana, and I'm subject to the same frailties and weaknesses as everyone else. I'm scared, Prarthana. I'm scared of what the future holds, and I've become. But I know that I have to face it, Prarthana. my fears, and mortality. be honest with myself, and you."

Himavant thought it was time to end this. If it was love, then why did Deb look at her with such disdain in his eyes? He should have made it clear. Prarthana thought to herself, "I should ask him clearly, what is it that he wants?" She got up in the morning, took a bath, and put on the new sari she had brought. She sat in the middle of the room, her heart beating fast, and began to sing, "What is it that you want, Tushar, why are you so distant?" But she couldn't bring herself to sing it; she only sang it when she was getting ready in front of the mirror, not singing Deb. Five years from now, I will be more mature, beautiful, I thought to myself. joyful. She hummed an old song, got up from the room, and went out into the hostel's corridor. Deb was sitting there. "Is this my one night? Have I finished?" she asked him. "You can't stay here without my permission," she said. "If I had been in the car, I would have brought you back," she said. "But I left it in the hostel's compound, and I sat next to it all night, looking at the window of my room. I didn't even drink whiskey. feel like having sex. I only stayed up because of the sunrise," she said. "Forgive me, Prarthana. I didn't get your permission, and I came to the hostel and stayed up all night, thinking about you. If I had stayed up one more night without permission, I would have been a sinner. said, 'Good morning, it was a wonderful morning,' wouldn't I?" she said. "Tell me, Deb, I was so worried about you." Deb's hand was shaking as he spoke. He hadn't slept all night, and his eyes were red from lack of sleep. He was still wearing the pajamas he had worn the night before, and the same jacket. He had sat on the road all night, thinking about her. Prarthana was angry with him. "You shouldn't have come here without my permission," she said. stayed up me." Deb's face was pale, and his eyes were filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Prarthana," he said. "I won't do it again. I promise you, I will never do it again." He took her hand and held it tightly. "I love you, Prarthana. I love you more than anything in the world. let you go. We are like two poor children, and we don't have anyone else in this world. Everything I have is yours. I will love you sincerely, till the end of my life," he said.

Himavant's eyes were gleaming with triumph; he had won the game. He had gone to his room in the college, poured two whiskeys, and savored two mouthfuls of betel leaves, ending the first stage of the hunt in a carefree manner, until five in the evening - when he would be a breadwinner, earning a living. He had dressed up, made himself look neat, and taken a refreshing bath, wearing a light blue T-shirt and a pair of jeans, and had gone out. The visitors' room in the hostel was empty, and Prarthana was sitting at the door, waiting for him. "Go and have a champagne, my dear! Let's celebrate this occasion with a champagne!" she said, calling out to him. "I'll go and get it, but first, let me eat my fill in the car. I'm starving!" he said, and sat down eating ice cream, lost in a world of his own. "If I drink champagne, I'll be in heaven," Prarthana thought, her eyes fixed on him.

The first bottle was opened, and Debuvini's eyes sparkled with excitement. She had taken over the entire room, and the champagne was her domain. "If I drink champagne, I'll be in heaven," she thought, her eyes fixed on Himavant. "I'll tell her that I'm in heaven," he thought, and took a sip of the champagne.

As he took a sip, Debuvini's eyes sparkled with amusement. "You're telling me that you're in heaven, aren't you?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm in heaven," he said, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

Debuvini got out of the car, and went to the hostel, leaving Himavant behind. She room, and sat down on the bed, her eyes fixed on the bottle of champagne. "I'll drink this champagne, and then I'll go to the hotel," she thought, her mind made up.

As she sat down, she noticed that the cover on the bed was askew, and she got up to straighten it. "There are three thousand six hundred and thirty rupees in this envelope," she said, her voice trembling. "If I don't pay the bill, it will be an emergency, and I'll have to pay more."

As she sat down, she noticed that the table was still set, and she got up to clear it. "I'll clear the table, and then I'll go to the hotel," she thought, her mind made up.

As she cleared the table, she noticed that the letter on the table was addressed to her. "I'll read the letter, and then I'll go to the hotel," she thought, her mind made up.

The letter was from Himavant, and it read: "Dear Prarthana, I'll meet you tomorrow. Yours, Himavant."

Prarthana had decided on a rupee's worth of money the moment she saw it: that she wouldn't ask Deb for money until their love had grown thick, lest he look down on her if she begged for it. If she started begging for money before he would think of her as inferior in his eyes. And if she continued to beg for money, he would be a cruel man.

Lalli would keep giving him money, and as long as he was with Deb, he would never think of her as inferior. But one day, when he had spent all the money he had on her, he would come back to her and ask for more, just as he had done before. Prarthana was aware of this, and so she had decided not to ask Deb for money until their love had grown thick.

As she sat in the corner of the room, surrounded by the dullness of the bylane, she thought about the cost of loving Deb. She had written it down in her notebook: had written

What a wonderful accident happened; I will come back to myself again, I thought, but; Debuvina's Mercedes is as fast as the wind, and Himavant would get up in the morning, if he were in the library; to forget in the evening, get lost, in each of these, he would be his own memory, known to me, but; he has lost me, Himavant; today's memory is not strong; I see him, but; he is not there, I am left with nothing, but; I have faith in the god who is a man, who loves a man as a man; I have never done anything impractical until now; when I was angry with my father, I left the house; I believed in you, I relied on you, and I loved you; but love is not a prayer, it is an adoration in front of the god, saying whatever we want to say; if the god who is a man does not speak, there is no pain; but if the man who is loved speaks, there is joy; Debuv is a very good speaker, I know; he makes me a big and intelligent woman; you see, I have read the book you read, and it has been fruitful; I will tell those who have seen it, is good; the generosity of love is that you should let go of it with an open heart; I will send you back to Davanagere; as I said, let it go, Prarthana had decided to stay on the wall and had come to Shivamogga; she sat down next to the man who was reading; her eyes were wet with tears and her fingers were trembling with emotion; she had read the book in her hand with great care and precision, with had read with precision, and her she care the book read her had read hand with her emotion; she

As I gazed up at the sky, I couldn't help but drift off to sleep; if you had read this, you would know it's been a while since I've been awake. In Shivamogga, Prarthana, are you awake? I'm a bit restless, I suppose. Himavant too must be feeling the same way; he's been lying awake all night. I got up, stretched, and went to the bathroom to take a shower.

As I was washing my face, I caught a whiff of the scent of the shampoo, and it made me laugh; it's a smell that reminds me of the poor people in Channarayapatna, where I used to live. If Debu had been here in this room, he would have stopped me from leaving; blocked my way like a barrier. But he wasn't here, so I left.

As I walked out of the hostel, I saw Himavant sitting on a chair, his head in his hands. He looked like he was in deep thought. I asked him, "Himavant, what's wrong? You look troubled." He looked up at me and said, "I don't know, Prarthana. I feel like I've been living a lie. I've been pretending to be someone I'm not."

I sat down next to him and asked, "What do you mean?" He looked at me with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "I've been pretending to be a good person, a person who is kind and compassionate. But I'm not. I'm just a fake, a hypocrite." I listened to him, trying to understand what he was going through.

As we sat there, I couldn't help but think about Debu. He was a good person, a kind and gentle soul. He would never pretend to be something he's not. He was always true to himself, even when it was hard. I thought about how much I missed him, wished he was here with us.

Himavant looked at me and said, "Prarthana, I'm scared. I'm scared of being found out, of being exposed for who I really am." I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Himavant, you're not alone. We're all in this together. We're all pretending to be something we're not, at least to some extent."

He looked at me, surprised. "Really?" he asked. I nodded. "Yes, really. We're all just trying to make it through life, to find our place in the world. be happy, to be loved and accepted."

Himavant looked at me, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "You really think so?" he asked. I nodded again. "Yes, I do. And I think that's what makes us human, special. We're all just trying to figure it out, to find our way in this crazy world."

As we sat there, I realized that I had been lying to myself, just like Himavant himself. pretending to be someone I'm not, someone who is strong and capable. But I'm not. I'm just trying to make it through life, one day at a time.

I looked at Himavant and said, "You know, I think we're not so different, you and I. We're both just trying to find our way, to be true to ourselves." He looked at me, a smile on his face. "I think you're right, Prarthana. after all."

As we sat there, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I realized that I didn't have to be perfect, pretend to be someone I'm not. I could just be myself, flaws and all. And that was a liberating feeling.

Deb had a strange resentment towards Himavant. "How can a girl like you worship him so much? I cannot tolerate it. It might be your devotion. Or maybe it has been your habit from the start. Or is it respect because he paid for your education? But no man in this world deserves such respect. I cannot stand to see that bow!" Deb had said after coming home. Later, when Himavant himself got up, heated water for her bath, poured castor oil on his hands and gently pressed it onto her scalp, Prarthana suddenly realized that she hadn't bowed to his feet in respect as soon as they met this time. A wave of anxiety washed over her. Should she just ask? Should she fall at Himu's feet, shed tears, press her forehead to the ground and say, "I made a mistake Himu, please forgive me. I will never even look towards Debu again in my life. My Himavant, let me dissolve into your generosity, your natural love, your ocean-like personality just like before. I am sorry! I have no life without you. There is no other man for me in this world." Should she say that? But the words wouldn't come out. As he gently pressed the cool oil onto her curly hair as she sat on a small stool, Himavant asked in an affectionate tone, "Didn't you miss me at all when you went to the new place?" Prarthana felt as if she had dropped into the lap of a giant eye. "It wasn't like that. In the beginning, I struggled to adjust to the new atmosphere there. The college was new, the hostel was new. In fact, I felt that if I stepped on the ground, my feet would wear out. Gradually, I adjusted. Yet, for every little thing, I would remember you and feel like crying. Once classes started, it reduced a bit. I met Urmi Didi. And then there were those little letters we wrote in college, and the letters you sent now and then. When we read them, it felt like you were right in front of us, as if we had never been far from each other. That doesn't mean I didn't remember you...

Himavant had spoken in a tone that was both calm and stern. "Is it true? Did I really say all that? If I did, then it's okay; I'm not one to go back on my word. You're very excited, aren't you? You're always so eager to get involved in other people's affairs. But what business is it of yours? If you're so concerned, then why don't you just ask me directly? I'm not afraid to tell you the truth. You're always so quick to jump to conclusions, but you never take the time to think things through. eager to get involved in other people's lives, stop to consider the consequences of your actions. You're like a storm that blows in without warning, leaving destruction in its wake. bird that flies in without a thought, without considering the impact it will have on others. river that flows without a care, without thinking about the damage it will cause downstream. You're like a fire that burns without control, harm it will do to those around you. thief who steals without remorse, pain you will cause to others. snake that bites without warning, you will do ghost that haunts without mercy, a demon that possesses without pity, a devil that tempts without remorse, a monster that terrorizes without mercy, without thinking about the harm you a beast that attacks without warning, will do to others. You're like a wild animal that roams without control, a tornado that sweeps in without warning, leaving destruction in its wake. hurricane that blows flood a wildfire that burns without control, like a plague that spreads without warning, like a pestilence that infects a curse that afflicts destruction in disease that infects wake. You're like a poison that spreads venom snake that bites scorpion that stings its spider that webs fly that buzzes mosquito a flea louse that infests without warning, leaving destruction in tick that attaches leech parasite that infects wake. You're like a fungus that grows mold that grows its mildew rust that eats away corrosion a decay that spreads rot that spreads destruction putrefaction in gangrene cancer tumor that grows cyst boil pustule carbuncle in its wake. You're like a abscess that

It was a stroke of good fortune that I had met Nandayya. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about my dream, which I had been trying to make a reality. Don't make my dream a lie, I thought. You have to become a big doctor. There are thousands of poor people like us; Prarthana would say that you should give them at least a little bit of your time to talk to them. be a big person, like that, and earn the respect of thousands of people with your eyes. I felt a surge of joy thinking that I would be able to make my dream a reality.

As I sat down to eat, I looked at Prarthana, who was sitting in front of me. She was a poor girl, and I couldn't bear to look at her directly. She sat with her legs crossed, her eyes cast down, as if she was trying to hide something. It was unusual for her to sit like that. Outside, the sun was shining brightly, but in the room, it was quiet and still. It was almost midday, and we had finished eating. A little while later, I sat down on the chair next to her, and we started talking. But I couldn't help but notice that she was dozing off, her head nodding forward. She had never done that before.

I looked at her with a mixture of surprise and concern. What was wrong with her? Had she been hurt on her shoulder? I thought to myself, Himavant, you are so careful, so considerate. You would never let anyone sleep with their head on your shoulder. But Prarthana was different. She was like a child, and I felt a pang of guilt for not being able to look at her directly.

As I looked at her, I felt a sense of longing, yearning that I had never felt before. It was as if I was touching her, feeling her warmth, her softness. It was a sensation experienced before, and it left me breathless. I felt calm, a sense of peace never known had found a part of myself that I had been missing all along.

But I knew that I couldn't let my feelings get the better of me. I had to be strong, for Prarthana's sake. the one who took care of her, who protected her. And so, I sat there, holding her gently, trying to ignore the feelings that were swirling inside me. I knew that I had to be careful, mindful of my actions. But I couldn't help but feel a sense of joy, happiness never known before.

Himavant lay still, her face a mask of serenity; yet, her mind was a cauldron of turbulent emotions. It was as if the pain of some past birth was rising to the surface, refusing to be contained. All these years, even after she had left Davanagere, the memory of Prarthana would evoke a similar response in her. She would feel a shiver run down her spine, and her heart would beat faster. It was as if she was reliving the same moment, the same sensation, the same feeling of being overwhelmed.

As she lay there, she couldn't help but think of the countless times she had felt this way. The touch of another person, a stranger, would send her heart racing, and she would feel a sense of panic wash over her. It was as if her very existence was being threatened, as if she was being consumed by a fire that she couldn't control.

And yet, she couldn't help but feel drawn to the touch of another person. It was a strange, contradictory feeling, one that she couldn't quite explain. She knew that it was wrong, something that she shouldn't be feeling, but she couldn't help herself.

As she lay there, trying to make sense of her emotions, Prarthana suddenly sat up, her eyes fixed intently on Himavant. "Tell me, Himavant," she said, her voice low and husky. "Is this not just a desire, a craving that needs to be satisfied? Is it physical need, a hunger that must be fed?"

Himavant looked at her, eyes searching for answers. She knew that Prarthana was trying to make her see things in a different light, understand that this feeling was not something to be ashamed of, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. What if Prarthana was right? What if just a desire, a craving that needed to be satisfied?

As she looked at Prarthana, Himavant felt a sense of calm wash over her. She knew that Prarthana was trying to help her, to make her see things in a different way. And yet, she couldn't help but feel unease. What if Prarthana was wrong? What if this feeling was something more, something deeper?

"Prarthana," Himavant said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what to say. I feel. I just know that I feel this way, and I don't know how to make it stop."

Prarthana looked at her, eyes filled with compassion. "Himavant," she said. "You are not alone. I am here for you, and I will help you through this. We will face this together, and we will come out stronger on the other side."

As Prarthana spoke, Himavant felt a sense of peace wash over her. She knew that she was not alone, that Prarthana was there to support her, to guide her through this difficult time. And with that knowledge, she calm, that she had not felt in a long time.

As Himavant turned his gaze towards her, Prarthana's eyes seemed to be staring at something within herself. She spoke in a clear and distinct voice, but her words were a stark contrast to the emotions that danced in her eyes. It was as if she had stumbled upon a profound truth, one that left her bewildered and speechless. She couldn't bring herself to touch Himavant, nor could she bear the thought of him touching her. there was a chasm between them, a void that seemed impossible to bridge.

She couldn't help but wonder what Himavant was doing, whether he was killing or surrendering. Was he searching for something, or was he fleeing from something? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a sense of dread wash over her. She tried to push the thoughts away, but they lingered, refusing to be silenced.

As she stood there, frozen in uncertainty, a sudden realization dawned on her. She had been lying to Himavant, telling him that she loved him, when in reality, she had no idea what love was. She had never experienced it, never felt it. And yet, pretending, trying to convince herself and Himavant that she was in love.

The thought was like a knife to her heart, cutting through the facade she had built around herself. She felt a wave of shame wash over her, followed by a deep sense of regret. Why had she lied to Himavant? pretended to be something she was not? The questions swirled in her mind, refusing to be silenced.

As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, a faint memory surfaced. It was the first time Debu had touched her, she had felt a spark of attraction. She remembered the way he had held her, the way his touch had made her feel alive. And then, there was the incident with the knife, hurt a deep sense of pain.

The memories flooded her mind, and she felt a sense of nostalgia wash over her. She had thought that she had moved on, left the past behind. But now, she realized been living in a state of denial, refusing to confront the truth. The thought was like a weight on her shoulders, a burden that she couldn't shake off.

As she stood there, frozen in uncertainty, a question echoed in her mind. Why was she still holding on to the past? searching for answers? The questions swirled refusing to be silenced. And then, she knew. She knew that she had to let go, to move on from the past. find a way to forgive herself, to forgive Debu, and to move forward. The thought was like a beacon of hope, a light in the darkness.

It had been a long time since Himavant had walked this far. Even now, as he stood at the turn, he felt a sense of unease. What if he had to spend the night here? He thought of Prarthana, who had been living in his house for six months now. She had grown into a mature and intelligent young woman. But she was still a child, and he couldn't bear the thought of her being alone at night. He thought of the way she used to look at him with her big eyes, would talk to him, smile. her being without him for even a night.

He thought of the way she had changed over the past six months. She had become more confident, more assertive. She had started to talk about her dreams and aspirations, about becoming a doctor and making a name for herself. He had tried to discourage her, to tell her that she was still young and should focus on her studies. But she had been determined, and he had eventually given in.

As he stood there, he felt a pang of guilt. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts and worries that he had neglected her. busy with his work and his own problems forgotten about her needs and feelings. He felt a sense of regret for not being there for her, able to provide for her.

He thought of the way she had been looking at him lately, with a mixture of sadness and disappointment. He knew that she was trying to be strong, to be independent, but he could see the pain and the hurt in her eyes. he had to do something to make it right, to make her feel better.

As he stood there, he heard the sound of a car driving by. He looked up to see a taxi driving down the road, and he knew that he had to make a decision. He could either get in the taxi and go back home, or he could stay there and try to make things right with Prarthana. He thought for a moment, and then he made up his mind. He would and he would Prarthana.

He walked back to the house, his heart heavy with regret and guilt. He knew that he had to make things right, to make Prarthana feel loved and cared for. He opened the door and called out to her, but there was no answer. He walked into the house, and he saw that she was not there. He looked around, had left a note on the table.

He picked up the note and read it. It was a message from her, telling him that she had gone to Shivamogga to meet a friend. She had left a book with the friend, and she had asked the friend to call him and tell arrived safely. Himavant felt a sense of relief wash over him. He knew that she was safe, and okay.

He sat down on the couch, and he read the note again. He felt a sense of sadness and regret, knowing that he had neglected her and that she had to leave without him. He knew to make things right, to make her feel loved and cared for. He would go to Shivamogga and meet her, and he would try between them.

As he sat there, he heard the sound of the phone ringing. He got up and answered it, and voice of Rasool Jamadar on the other end. He told him that Prarthana had arrived safely, and that she was with him. Himavant felt a sense of relief and happiness, knowing safe her friend.

He hung up the phone, and he sat down on the couch again. He felt a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that Prarthana was safe and that she was okay. He knew that he had to make things right between them, and he was determined to do so. He would go to Shivamogga and meet her, and he would try

As he sat there, he thought about the past six months. way Prarthana had changed, the way she had grown and matured. she had looked at him, talked to smiled. He knew that he had to make things right between them, and he was determined to do so.

He got up and walked out of the house, determined to go to Shivamogga and meet Prarthana. He knew that it would be a long and difficult journey, but he was determined to make things right between them. He walked out into the night

The phone was ringing at home; I had to tell him that he could make a call from here itself. Prarthana had already stepped out of the gate, Himavant was busy washing the soap suds from his hair, his face was covered with a towel. By the time he arrived, sat down with Debu, her eyes were fixed on the telephone.

You would have come to know about this even before your life was over; I would have dropped you at Davanagere and gone back. I hate you and you will be hating me in the morning. If I had left you in Shivamogga, you would have stayed there itself; my wife she like that only. Love you.

Last night, in this hotel room, I had lit a candle and sat there, waiting for the morning light. I had to come back to you, Prarthana, without fail. I had left you alone in this room; like that only. I had told you that I would would

Debu, you love me so deeply; intensely. You know my relationship with Himavant so well; you know that it is not a physical relationship that can change. a even for a reason. But you are troubled, Debu; like that only.

You are troubled because I left my wife like that; If I had been with Himavant at that time, I would have been a madman; like that only. It is not my love for Himavant that is a mad love; It is a love that is so strong, so intense, that possible to bear it;

As I was leaving the room, I remembered that I had not given the telephone booth money to the person who had given me the call; it was a small thing, but sign of the great disaster that was to come. come.

In the evening, Himavant had brought Prarthana to the hotel; on the way, they had met many people, but Himavant had not introduced Prarthana to anyone. He

Six months ago, when I was going to Davanagere, I had Prarthana with me. It was a different time; time.

As the effects of the intoxication began to wear off, Prarthana couldn't help but wonder if the reason behind it all was something else entirely; she didn't feel the urge to uncover the original cause of the situation. Her mind was filled with doubts, and the words he had spoken over the phone still lingered in her thoughts. Even if she had thought that he would call her back and say send the money, which he had promised to do by the evening, the shop was already closed. again come over and talk to her, it would have been a different story. But he had called her and said and that was it.

Just then, she saw Himavant sitting quietly beside her, and she thought to herself, "Oh, what a relief!" She had been so worried about what he would say, but now she felt a sense of calm wash over her. anxious

Just then, she heard the sound of a phone ringing in the distance. It was Deb's phone, and he was talking to someone in a hushed tone. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but she could sense the desperation in his voice. She felt a pang of worry in her heart, and she wondered what was wrong.

She wondered what was wrong, and she felt a sense of unease wash over her.

Just then, Deb got up and walked over to her. He looked pale and shaken, and she could see the fear in his eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked him, but he just shook his head and said nothing.

She felt a sense of panic rising up inside her, and she wondered what was wrong.

Just then, Deb spoke up, his voice shaking with emotion. "I don't know if I can do this," he said, his eyes fixed on hers. be with you, with your husband still alive."

She felt a sense of shock wash over her, and she wondered what he was talking about.

Just then, Deb continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if I can be with you, with your husband still alive. I alive. I alive."

Just then, Deb looked at her, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. "I don't know if I can be with you, with your husband still alive," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. still alive."

Himavant wondered if he was getting married. And was he going to be with his bride, Himavant, in that room? Just then, at the fourth pint, the sound of the door being knocked was heard. The girl who had been sent to fetch him, looking like a girl from Shivamogga, came in, her sari slightly disheveled, her blouse slightly untucked, a nightie on, and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked like his wife! Like someone who had taken revenge on someone earlier. Himavant got up and went towards her. "Prarthana, I'll come to you next time, ready to settle the scores with you," he said. Prarthana smiled, her eyes sparkling with drama, and said, "Himavant, I'll be waiting for you, but you'll see a lot of changes next time."

Prarthana got into the bus at the Shivamogga bus stand, heading towards Davangere, and sat down, searching for someone. She looked out of the window, her eyes scanning the faces of the people passing by, but she didn't see anyone she knew. She was still looking when the bus started moving, and she got up to get a better view. As the bus moved out of the stand, she caught a glimpse of a car with a number plate that looked familiar. It was the car of her husband, Debashish. She felt a surge of excitement and got up to get a better look. She saw the number plate and the car, and her heart skipped a beat. She had never seen the car before, but looked familiar.

As the bus moved further, Prarthana sat down, her mind racing with questions. "Could Debashish have come to Shivamogga?" she thought to herself. She got up again, her eyes scanning the faces of the people passing by, but she didn't see anyone she knew. The bus was moving faster now, and Prarthana sat down, her mind still racing with questions.

As the bus approached the Shivamogga circle, Prarthana saw a boy holding a telephone receiver. He looked familiar, and she wondered if it was someone she knew. The boy looked up and saw Prarthana, and his face lit up with a smile. "Hello, I'm calling from the Shivamogga circle," he said. "I'm looking for Prarthana. Is she there?" Prarthana's heart skipped a beat as she heard the boy's voice. She got up and walked towards him, her heart racing with excitement.

The boy handed Prarthana a chit and the telephone receiver. The chit had a bill of eight rupees on it, and Prarthana's eyes widened in surprise. She looked at the boy, and he smiled and said, "I'm calling from the Shivamogga circle. I'm looking for Prarthana. Is she there?" Prarthana's heart skipped a beat as she heard the boy's voice. chit and saw the number of the caller. It was a number she knew, but she couldn't quite place it. She looked at the boy again, and he smiled and said, "I'm calling from the Shivamogga circle.

Himavant's heart was racing as he sped down the Shivamogga-Honnali road on his motorcycle. The accelerator cable was about to snap due to the intense pressure. The bike was moving at a speed that was impossible to match, and the road was not smooth. He thought to himself, "Can a bus move at such a speed?" But he knew that a car couldn't be driven like a bullet. He glanced at Prarthana sitting beside him in the car and wondered what she would do if she were driving. He felt a surge of excitement and his hands were shaking with anticipation.

As he sped past the Devarayanakere circle, he thought to himself, "What if I miss the turn to Honnali? What if I go too far?" He slowed down a bit, but his excitement was too much to contain. He thought of his grandfather, who had taught him how to drive and had given him the mantra to live a good life. He remembered the words told him to be brave and face challenges head-on.

As he approached the turn to Honnali, he felt a sense of nostalgia wash over him. He remembered the last moments of his grandfather's life, when he had been so agitated and restless. angry with the world and had refused to let go. Himavant felt a pang of sadness and regret, thinking that he had not been able to save his grandfather from the clutches of death.

He took a deep breath and focused on the road ahead. He knew that he had to be brave and face his challenges head-on, just like his grandfather had taught him. He accelerated the car and took the turn to Honnali, feeling a sense of freedom and exhilaration.

As I stood in the middle of the field, I gazed up at the sky with a twisted face, as if I was trying to will the darkness away. My hand was raised in a futile attempt to hold back the inevitable. My grandfather's life was slipping away, and I was powerless to stop it. His still body lay on the ground, and I felt a crushing weight of anger and sorrow. My emotions were boiling over, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing him.

I thought about Rasool Jamadar, who would be arriving soon to take my grandfather's body for burial. The thought of it was too much to bear, and I felt a sense of desperation wash over me. But then I saw Prarthana, sitting in the car, and my thoughts turned to her. What would she do? Would she live? Would she be okay? The uncertainty was unbearable, and I felt a wave of panic wash over me.

I couldn't bear the thought of losing Prarthana, and I knew that I had to do something to save her. make sure that she was safe, that she lived. I thought about Debu, who had left her in the car, and I felt a surge of anger towards him. Why had he left her alone? put her in danger?

As I stood there, frozen in indecision, I felt a sense of clarity wash over me. I knew what I had to do. find Prarthana and make sure that she was safe. get her away from Debu and his reckless behavior. I took a deep breath and started to move towards the car, my heart pounding in my chest.

As I walked, I thought about Prarthana and how much I cared for her. I knew that she was more than just a girl, she was a dream, a fantasy, a part of my life that I couldn't bear to lose. I thought about the way she had smiled at me, laughed, and touched my heart.

I reached the car and saw Prarthana sitting inside, her eyes closed as if she was sleeping. I felt a surge of relief wash over me, and I knew that I had to get her out of there, away from Debu and his friends. I opened the door and gently pulled the car, holding her close to me as I looked around for a way to escape.

As we walked away from the car, I felt a sense of freedom wash over me. I knew that we were safe, together, and that we would face whatever came next as a team. I looked down at Prarthana and saw the fear in her eyes, but I also saw a glimmer of hope. We would get through this, we would make it through, and we would come out stronger on the other side.

He could have left. He could have got off the bus on the way. What was the need to tell him that he was close, that he was coming from Davanagere? Aren't these small deceptions the cause of the ultimate shock? Determined to resolve this suspicion once and for all, he began to twist the accelerator of his motorcycle. Like a wild horse, the bike sped on. As Himavant's mind grew agitated again, he crossed Honnali, then Malebennur, and was about to turn towards Harihar when he suddenly hit the brakes. Parked outside a small roadside dhaba-like hotel, he saw Debashish Bandopadhyay's car. There was no one inside the car; they must be sitting inside the hotel. From a distance, he turned off the key, stopping the engine's roar. Without making a sound, he parked the bike in front of the hotel and, in just two steps, walked into the small thatched-roof hotel. That was when he saw Debu! Debashish Chandra Nath Bandopadhyay. "Debu, park the car here. I will get into the bus. I will meet you in the evening near the hostel. I will go from Malebennur to Davanagere by bus," Prarthana had said as she got down from the car, just fifteen minutes before Himavant walked into the dhaba. A woman's mind, determined to deceive, can anticipate danger. From the moment she left Shivamogga, she had been anxious. The bus was empty. As Himavant stood by the window with his innocent eyes, telling her to study well, write letters, and ask for money if needed, her eyes were searching for Debu's car. Deceiving Himavant while far away in Davanagere was one thing; but searching for Debu while keeping Himavant right in front of her was like deceiving God himself. But a woman's desires can drive her to any deception. Had she not shaken off Himavant, who was sleeping with his head on her arm enjoying their closeness, and run to call Debu? Had she not told lie after lie to Himavant since coming to Shivamogga?

Himavant sat in the bus, sipping whiskey; it was well-known that she was drinking. "How much sin had I thought of committing? Had I taken Himavant's hand and taken a big risk by going to the big temple? Before crossing the Shivamogga border, she had booked a seat in the bus; the car that was in front of it had stopped, and the driver, Deebu Babu, had taken Himavant out of the bus and filled the car. If the car had been in a hurry, it would have been like a storm; but Himavant had sat in the same seat and was listening to everything.

In the same way, in Davanagere too; in the evening, when the sun was setting, Himavant had sat on the steps of the Devrashta temple and was talking to Deebu, holding his hand. If Deebu had been in a hurry, he would have left; but Himavant had taken him back to the car him, listening to his songs, touching his chest, and making him feel at ease for the journey.

In such a lonely journey, even a single night was not enough; in the daytime, every face on the road was a stranger; if a bus came from the opposite direction, she would think, 'Who saw me? Who recognized me?' and would get anxious.

But it was not like that; the moment Himavant had left Deebu in Shivamogga, she had felt a strange unease; if Deebu had been asleep and had thrown his hand on her shoulder, she would not have been able to bear it; she would have been shaken.

Himavant had taken Deebu's hand and was thinking, 'I am deceiving Himavant; if Himavant knew that I was deceiving him, he would not love me; if I did not love him, I would not be able to bear Deebu.'

Himavant thought, 'If I don't love him, I should let him go.' She said to Deebu, 'I'll be back by evening; I'll come to the bus stand at noon.' Deebu, who was sitting on the bus, replied, 'I'll be here, I'll wait.'

Himavant got off the bus and took a seat in the Davanagere bus, which was about to leave. She was sitting in the same seat, looking at Deebu, who looking at her.

Himavant thought, 'I am deceiving Himavant; I am deceiving Himavant.' She thought, 'If Himavant knew that I was deceiving him, he would not love me; if I did not love him, I would not be able to bear Deebu.'

It had been fifteen minutes since Prarthana had parted ways with Himavant and Debhu in the dhaba near the road. She had stopped in her tracks, her heart pounding in her chest, when she saw Himavant sitting on the motorbike, his leg stretched out on the ground. His eyes were sunken, his face pale, and his head hung low. She had never seen him like this before. It was as if he had been through a nightmare. She had been in a hurry to get back to the hostel after lunch, but seeing Himavant like this had made her forget everything else.

She approached him cautiously, her mind racing with questions. What had happened? Had he had a fight? Had something happened to Debhu? Had he met with an accident? She couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to him. She had always thought of him as a strong and brave person, but now he looked so vulnerable.

"Are you okay?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Himavant looked up at her, his eyes vacant. "I...I don't know," he stammered. "I was driving back to Davanagere, and then I saw you...and I just stopped."

Prarthana's eyes widened in surprise. "You were driving back to Davanagere? But you said you were going to Shivamogga?"

Himavant shook his head, his eyes still unfocused. "I don't know what happened. I just got on the bike and started driving. I didn't even realize where I was going."

Prarthana's heart went out to him. She could see the pain and confusion in his eyes. She sat down beside him, trying to comfort him. "It's okay, Himavant. Whatever happened, it's okay. You're safe now."

Himavant looked at her, his eyes slowly focusing. "I'm sorry, Prarthana. I don't know what came over me. I just felt so...so lost."

Prarthana took his hand in hers, trying to reassure him. "You're not lost, Himavant. You're with me. And I'm here to help you."

Himavant looked at her, a faint smile on his face. "Thanks, Prarthana. I feel a little better now."

Prarthana smiled back at him, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. She knew that Himavant was going to be okay, and that was all that mattered.

I had left for Bengaluru that day and was supposed to return. But I had to go to Shivamogga as well. Was I supposed to go there? but I didn't know if I would be able to, as I had a meeting with Prarthana today. You are supposed to be a sweets merchant, aren't you? I had heard that Rasool Jamadar had called me on 711. He was a great artist, and in one sentence, he had explained everything. He had stayed at the Jewel Rock Hotel in Shivamogga. I had actually called Prarthana from there, but she hadn't received the call. She had been in Shivamogga, but I hadn't been able to reach her. I had called her from the hotel, picked up. I had thought that she was with someone, and I had hung heard that she had been in Shivamogga, but I hadn't been able to reach her. I a hurry, as I had to leave for Davanagere, and then return to Shivamogga. I had thought that I would be able to meet her there, but now I was not so sure. I had met Urmi and Kaveri in Davanagere, and they were the two most important people I had to meet. I had seen Urmi, and she was sitting in front of me, on the opposite side of the road. I had thought that I would ask her about Debu, but I didn't know if I should or not. I had decided to ask her, but I had hesitated. there might be some misunderstanding, and I didn't want to make things worse. I had asked her, but she hadn't replied. again, but she had just looked at me silently. "What did you do?" "Is it related to Debu's matter?" "I had come to propose to you," I had said. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she had said. "I didn't know that you were in love with me." "Thanks for the concern," "I'll be back," "I had made up my mind even before I left." "Debu is a very good person," I had said. "He is very pure and honest." "I believe in him," worthy of being loved." But I had also said that every woman loves Debu for a moment, but it's not possible for her to love him forever.

What if I told you that I had forgotten Himavant even before I met him? That's what I said to my friends; that's our nature; that's our habit. "I've completely changed, I've become someone else." I woke up early that morning, and my mind was as clear as a prayer recited in the morning prayers. "What if I had told you the truth, Tushar?" I thought to myself, "Would you have been so affectionate and tender towards me?" She was as emotional as ever, her eyes brimming with tears, as if nothing had changed. "Is it true that even in the presence of a woman, you don't have any feelings for me?" I asked her, my voice trembling. "Don't you ever look at me with respect?" I said, trying to hold back my tears. "Don't ask me about Prarthana like that," I thought to myself. "Perhaps I've made a grave mistake in my life." I got up from the table, and went to the window, trying to calm myself down.

Just then, Rasool Jamadar came and told me that I had to leave for Davanagere immediately. He said that I shouldn't tell Prarthana about it. "Whatever you do, tell me about it later," he said. "Wait for the right moment, and then tell me. Leave the letter at the hotel, and don't mention it to anyone." I finished speaking, and it was exactly 15 minutes later when Himavant rode his bike to Prarthana's house.

As he stood outside her house, he heard an unexpected truth from Prarthana's mouth. "I don't know when you came to Shivamogga, but I know that you didn't tell me anything about it," she said. "But I do anything about your feelings, even after you came back from college in the evening and took a bath." Himavant's mind was filled with anxiety and fear. What if he had told her the truth? confessed his feelings to her? He thought to himself, "If I perhaps things would have been different."

He looked at Prarthana, and saw the change in her behavior. He realized that something was amiss, and that she was trying to hide something from him. "Prarthana, is something wrong?" he asked her, trying to sound calm. "Is something bothering you? Tell me, and I'll do whatever it takes to help you." He wanted to know the truth, and it now.

I could only worship you, not love you. I could have been left in the state of a Debu's servant, with a salary of Rs. 8, and it would have been tolerable, but to be left by Himavant, who is supposed to be a good man, is a betrayal; I didn't even bother to ask him once; he kept giving me all sorts of hints, as if I was supposed to figure it out on my own, but I couldn't; even though he told me everything, I couldn't suspect him of anything. Prarthana never told a lie, she always spoke with faith; she stood by me like a rock, even when I was at the bus stop, waiting for Himavant, who was supposed to meet me, but he didn't show up; I thought to myself, 'Maybe he's late, maybe he's stuck somewhere'; but when he finally arrived, he just smiled and said, 'What's the big deal? I'm here now'; I was relieved, but also a bit annoyed; 'Why did he make me wait like this?'; but I didn't say anything, I just smiled back and said, 'It's okay, I'm glad you're here'; we exchanged a few pleasantries, and then he asked me to come with him to the temple; I was hesitant at first, but he assured me that it would be fine; we went and he introduced me to his friends; they all seemed nice, but I was still a bit wary; I thought to myself, 'Maybe I'm just being paranoid, maybe there's nothing to worry about'; but I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off; I tried to brush it off, but it lingered in the back of my mind; I thought to myself, 'Maybe I'm just being too sensitive, maybe I'm overreacting'; but I couldn't help but feel that something was wrong.

As we were walking back to the car, I saw Prarthana waiting for us; she was smiling, but I could see a hint of sadness in her eyes; I thought to myself, 'What's wrong? Why is she looking so sad?'; but I didn't say anything, I just smiled back and said, 'Hi, how are you?'; she smiled and said, 'I'm fine, thanks'; but I could see that she was trying to hide something; I thought to myself, 'Maybe I'm just being paranoid, maybe there's nothing to worry about'; but I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off; I tried to brush it off, but it lingered in the back of my mind; I thought to myself, 'Maybe I'm just being too sensitive, maybe I'm overreacting'; but I couldn't help but feel that something was wrong.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but think about Himavant

Himavant thought to himself, "Could I have become like this, a helpless creature, if all the girls who make such a scene had to face such a predicament? Do they all have to suffer like this? They all take on this burden and then merge into another person, and it's only then that they tell the truth, isn't it, Urmi? feel a demonic satisfaction in their faces when they make a scene? Do they all experience this before they take the leap of faith and give up their ego? I don't know, but I do know that I've lost my ego, and I've become a mere puppet in the hands of others. If I had taken before, I would have been a free bird, but now I'm trapped in this cage, and I'm forced to live with this pain.

Urmi, tell me, what would happen if I had taken the leap of faith before? Would I have been able to experience this kind of satisfaction? feel freedom? But I didn't, and now I'm stuck in this prison, and I'm forced to live with this pain.

You know, Urmi, I've been thinking a lot about this, and I've come to a realization. If I had taken the leap of faith before, I would have been able to experience this kind of freedom, but I didn't, and now I'm stuck in this prison. I'm not sure what the future holds, but I do know that I'm not going to be able to escape this pain.

Himavant was driving the car, lost in thought. Prarthana had told him to turn the car towards the city, but he didn't want to go that way. He was thinking about how to get out of the situation.

He turned the car around, but it was not possible to find a way out of Shivamogga. He couldn't even talk to Prarthana with love in his heart. Before that, he had not even thought about it. Now, a sense of unease had crept in.

He looked at the car's recorder and saw that Mahammad had spoken to Prarthana. He was worried that Prarthana might have said something to him. He thought that he should go back to the hotel, but he didn't know how to get out of the situation.

He thought that he had been foolish to think that he could get out of this situation. in love with Prarthana, but he had not thought about the consequences. how he would face her if she found out about his feelings.

He thought that he should have been more careful. thought about the future before getting involved with Prarthana. But now, it was too late. He had to face the consequences of his actions.

He thought that he should have been more careful, but he had not been. He had been blinded by his love for Prarthana. thought about the consequences of his actions.

Himavant thought to himself that if he had foreseen the dangers that would befall him, he would have been more cautious; but as it was, he had not anticipated anything. He had just had a cup of tea at the hotel near the bus stand and had parked his car. He had noticed eight men on a motorcycle following him, but paid much attention to it. He had seen them following him even when he was walking, thought much of thought that they were just a group of men who were he had not suspected anything.

As he was about to leave the hotel, he had asked the receptionist if Prarthana was coming, and the receptionist had told him that she would not be coming. her to tell Prarthana to follow him when she came, but just nodded and said tell her. He had thought that it was a stupid thing to do, but he had not thought much of it.

As he was about to leave the hotel, he had seen Prarthana sitting in the car, crying. He had gone to her and asked her what was wrong, and she had told him that she had been following him all the time. He had asked her why she had not told him, said not wanted to worry him. if she had suspected anything, had not.

He had asked her if she had thought that he was in danger, and she had said that she had not. someone was following him, something was wrong, had not.

He had asked her if she had been suspicious of him, and she had said that she had not. had thought that he was deceiving her, was hiding something from her, had not.

He had asked her if she had thought that he was in love with someone else, and she had said that she had not. going to leave her, had not. she to hurt

Don't be stupid, you're such an innocent girl, worshipping an unworthy man like that. And look, even now, you're selling sweets. The Lord is sitting right there at the hostel gate, waiting to prove his suspicion. He's trying to find out if you're telling the truth or not. He's sitting there, looking like an egg, with a mixture of suspicion and doubt in his eyes. Has he come down to this level? so suspicious, like a chicken egg. What are you doing, Himavant? You're the one who's supposed to be suspicious, not me. It's you investigating, not me.

You're the one who's supposed to be the detective, not me. be solving the mystery, not me. I'm just a simple girl, trying to make a living by selling sweets. I'm not a detective, investigator.

And look, the night watchman of the hostel has come to the gate, carrying a lantern. He's seen you, and he's suspicious. He's thinking, "What is this girl doing here?" He's thinking, "Is she telling the truth or not?" He's looking at you with a mixture of suspicion and doubt in his eyes.

And then, the Lord, who's sitting at the gate, gets up and starts to walk towards you. He's trying to find out if you're telling the truth or not. investigate, to solve the mystery. And you, Himavant, you're just standing there, looking so innocent, so pure. You're not even mystery.

And look, the Lord has come to you, and he's saying, "Prarthana, I'm going to forgive you this time. But tomorrow, I'll see what you do." He's trying to threaten you, to intimidate you. make you confess, to admit your guilt. But you, Himavant, you're not even trying to defend yourself. You're just standing there, looking so innocent, so pure.

The letter that Himavant had written to me was still fresh in my mind. I was on my bus, heading to Davanagere, and I had no idea what was going on. Both of those things were my mistakes, I thought, as the news was spreading like wildfire. Today, you are innocent; today, the divine love in your heart has turned into a mere fantasy. The way you express yourself is like a fleeting dream that vanishes in a day. You should be grateful that I am writing to you in this manner. God does not make mistakes, and I should not have doubted Him.

As I sat on the bridge, I couldn't help but think of Prarthana. In the month of Shravana, when the rains were at their peak, she would often say that the Tungabhadra River was like a temple that had been submerged. The people of Shivamogga would

The world was a shadow that drank the shadows of the world; in the sleep of Channarayapatna, Himavant was aware of the existence Like a ghost that had emerged from the darkness, a six-year-old girl appeared, and after eighteen years, she was still a girl. Is it not a big dream that everyone talks about? Prarthana thought to herself. If she had not gone to Davanagere to study medicine, she would not have gone to that place; met Rasool Jamadar, and met him, become his wife. She was a dreamer, and she had created a dream for herself. sweet sweet

She had no idea that her life was a mere illusion. fantasy. dream.

Himavant looked at her swollen belly and decided that she was not a woman who would give birth to a child. He a child.

He thought to himself, "I will not be deceived by anyone, not even by myself." will

Prarthana had written a letter to him, a letter that was full of deceit. She deceit.

As he left, he must have wondered what would have been the fate of this prayer. Oh, the merciful God, the all-powerful God, who had crushed the serpent and emerged victorious, had he not made up his own mind to the extent of deciding that he was all-powerful? But I, Himavant, am just a small girl. You are in Davanagere, and I am in Shivamogga, all alone. I had left you in Shivamogga, and now I am here, all alone. It is natural for doubts to arise in the mind of one who is alone. But I never had any such doubts about you. My love for you is not just devotion; it faith. No one doubts the existence of God. But can we question God? Can we examine God? I rose from my bed, and, like a fool, I began to think. Did you not know that I had given you the money and had come back to the room, watching you, waiting for you? If you had known that, what would you have done, Himavant? I was just walking, and I saw you from afar, walking towards me, with a smile on your face. shown me the bus, I would have been embarrassed. What kind of disease have you caught, Himavant? You have changed, but it is not just the atmosphere that has changed. I have to adjust to the new atmosphere, not my personality. But the atmosphere has changed, and I have changed too.

I have been watching you from close by, and smoke cigarettes and drink liquor. Can I, too, do that? become a part of this world? watching you But I am not I am from a different class. background. family.

I was watching you from afar, and I saw you get into the bus. I

Himavant read the words, his eyes fixed on Prarthana, who was sitting across from him. The words had a profound effect on him, evoking a sense of trepidation. He had always been skeptical of her claims, but now he was beginning to doubt himself. He thought about all the times she had lied to him, all the money she had taken from him, and all the promises she had broken.

He thought about the times she had asked him to lend her money, and how he had always given in to her requests. way she had manipulated him, using her charm and beauty to get what she wanted. had made him feel, like he was nothing more than a means to an end.

As he sat there, he couldn't help but feel a sense of anger and resentment towards her. He thought about all the times he had been taken advantage of, used and discarded. the way she had treated him, like he was nothing more than a plaything.

But as he looked at her, he saw something in her eyes that gave him pause. It was a glimmer of sadness, a hint of vulnerability. He saw that she was not just a manipulative and cunning woman, but also a complex and multifaceted person.

He thought about all the times they had spent together, all the memories they had made. the way she had made him feel, like he was the only person in the world. had loved him, with a passion and intensity that he had never experienced before.

As he sat there, he realized that he couldn't just dismiss her and walk away. He had to confront her, to talk to her about all the issues that had been building up between them. find out why she had been lying to him, taking advantage of him.

He took a deep breath and stood up, his eyes locked on hers. "Prarthana," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "We need to talk."

Prarthana looked up at him, a mixture of fear and defiance in her eyes. "What is it, Himavant?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Himavant took a step closer to her, his eyes burning with intensity. "I know what you've been doing," he said, his voice low and even. "I know about the money you've been taking from me, about the lies you've been telling me. And I want to know why."

Prarthana looked down, her eyes avoiding his. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice shaking.

Himavant took another step closer to her, his eyes blazing with anger. "Don't lie to me, Prarthana," he said, his voice cold and hard. "I know the truth. And I want to know why you've been treating me like this."

Prarthana looked up at him, a glimmer of tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Himavant," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just trying to survive."

Himavant's expression softened, and he took a step back from her. "Survive?" he repeated, his voice incredulous. "What do you mean?"

Prarthana took a deep breath and looked up at him, her eyes filled with a deep sadness. "I mean that I was struggling to make ends meet," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was working multiple jobs just to keep food on the table, and I didn't know how to pay my bills. So I did what I had to do to survive."

Himavant's expression softened, and he looked at her with newfound understanding. "I had no idea," he said, his voice filled with regret. idea you were struggling like that."

Prarthana looked up at him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "I know I shouldn't have lied to you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I was desperate, and I didn't know what else to do."

Himavant took a deep breath and looked at her, his eyes filled with a newfound understanding. "I forgive you, Prarthana," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "But we need to talk about this. figure out a way to move forward, together."

Prarthana looked up at him, a glimmer of tears in her eyes. "I want to, Himavant," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. make things right between us."

Himavant smiled, and he took a

If you don't believe me, I am ready to accept the consequences. This letter is not about getting an answer from you; I want to fill it with the utmost faith that you have in me. If I have made any mistakes while writing, please forgive me. If you don't believe me, then it's not worth it; I will be left with nothing but regret.

When you read this letter, you will know that it was you who came and sat with me in the car with Debu. If you had left me stranded there, I wouldn't have been able to handle the situation so easily. It was Himavant picked me up, and I was able to return home safely. If I had to do it all over again, I would do it without any problems for at least five years without any worries; that's how much I have learned from Himavant.

In just a few months, I have learned to express myself so well that I can tell you everything in one go without any hesitation. But, I have come to know that love is something that can be deceived by anyone; that's what I have learned from Debu. If Himavant had deceived me like that, would I have been able to trust him completely? I don't think so.

Debu trusts me completely, but she doesn't trust me fully. She trusts Himavant love him. There is a relationship between trust and faith, but not in this case. He only loves me, and it's not possible for him to deceive me; that's what I have come to believe. If Debu had the intention would I have given her the opportunity? No, I wouldn't have.

With this realization, I read the letter that I had written to Debu for the last time, placed it on the table, and went to sleep. Prarthana

Prarthana sat in her room, her eyes fixed on the letter in her hand. She had read it multiple times, but the words still seemed to dance before her eyes. The letter was from Himavant, the boy she had fallen in love with. He was a year older than her and had been her friend since college. She had always thought of him as a brother, but over the past few months, she had developed feelings for him.

As she read the letter again, Prarthana felt a pang in her heart. Himavant was telling her that he had fallen in love with her, but he couldn't be with her. He was from a wealthy family and his parents would never approve of their relationship. He was asking her to forget about him and move on with her life.

Prarthana felt a lump form in her throat as she read the words. She had always known that Himavant was different from her, but she had never thought that their social differences would be a barrier between them. She felt a sense of loss and sadness wash over her.

As she sat there, lost in thought, Prarthana's mind began to wander. She thought about how she had met Himavant, how they had become friends, and fallen in love with him. the way he had made her feel, listened to her, and supported her.

But as she thought about their relationship, Prarthana realized that she had been blind to the reality of their situation. so caught up in her own feelings ignored the fact that Himavant was from a different world. sure that their love would conquer all, but now she saw that it was just a fantasy.

Prarthana's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her roommate, Anni, entering the room. Anni was a friend of Prarthana's from college, and she had been a constant source of support and encouragement. Prarthana looked up at Anni, who was standing in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.

"What's wrong, Prarthana?" Anni asked, noticing the look of sadness on Prarthana's face.

Prarthana hesitated, unsure of how to explain her feelings. She had always been close to Anni, but she had never confided in her about her relationship with Himavant. She felt a sense of vulnerability and uncertainty wash over her.

"I got a letter from Himavant," Prarthana said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Anni's expression changed from concern to surprise. "What did he say?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Prarthana took a deep breath and began to read the letter to Anni. As she read, Anni listened intently, her eyes fixed on Prarthana's face. When Prarthana finished reading, Anni looked at her with a mixture of shock and understanding.

"I'm so sorry, Prarthana," Anni said, her voice filled with empathy. "I had no idea he felt that way."

Prarthana felt a lump form in her throat as she looked at Anni. She had always known that Anni was a good listener, but she had never realized how much she needed her support and understanding.

"I know it's not the end of the world," Anni said, trying to reassure Prarthana. "You'll get through this, Prarthana. You're strong and capable."

Prarthana nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Anni. She knew that she couldn't face this alone, and she was grateful to have Anni by her side.

As they sat there, lost in thought, Prarthana realized that she had a choice to make. She could let Himavant's letter break her, or she could use it as an opportunity to grow and learn. She could choose to move on with her life, to focus on her studies and her future, get stuck in the past and let her heart dictate her decisions.

Prarthana took a deep breath and made a decision. She would move on, she would focus on her studies, and she would make the most of this experience. She would not let Himavant's letter define her, but rather use it as a stepping stone to a brighter future.

With a newfound sense of determination, Prarthana stood up and began to get ready for her day. She knew that it wouldn't be easy, but she was ready to face whatever challenges came her way. move on and start a new chapter in her life.

You know what to do. I had already made up my mind to talk to her; it was the first time she had entered the Boys' Hostel's courtyard, and as she climbed up the stairs, she said, "Let's go to the city, have lunch, and then come back, it will take half an hour; you can do whatever you like, and I will like!" She was so beautiful that even if I had to act, believe that it was true. "If you have a break from college, let's go to Harihar's place for lunch, it's on the way," she said, and I went along with her.

There was no drama in her voice, and I recognized it. She was Urmi, and I had known her since then. Two minutes later, Urmi's car, with its music blasting, came out of the hostel. "What do you want?" she asked, looking at me with a smile, want, and you alone?" she said, lighting a cigarette.

"If you want to know, I'm going to finish this affair," she said, "You've already given me an answer, Deb. Be honest with me: I've done everything to make you happy, I've been patient with you, I've been understanding, I've been tolerant, I've been forgiving. I've loved you, and I've told you so. I've been willing to do whatever you want, and you want.

But you've humiliated me, you've belittled me, and you've ignored me. You've decided to end our relationship, and destroy my days. curse my nights. make me suffer, and miserable.

And now, you've decided to come to my place, and sit next to me, make me suffer even more. for the rest of my life, miserable But I'm not going to let you do that, make me miserable. I'm going to make you suffer, miserable, and regret the day you ever met me."

Listen, love you! And feel sorry for Prarthana the girl. The song of Mohammed Rafi stopped abruptly.

I love you... even now Prarthana. The thought of you makes me feel like I'm going to go crazy. I chose to be a sacrificial animal for you, and I feel sorry for you. The first time I heard the song, I was struck by its beauty. Debashish, who had sung it so melodiously, knew the emotions behind it; there was no pretence in his voice. He was singing with all his heart, and I could feel the intensity of his emotions. He had been in love with me since the day I went to college, and singing this song with the same intensity for years. He could have been with any of the hundred girls who were fond of him, but he chose to be with me. Kasuti Kaveramma's house, fallen and gotten up, any girl, any

I'll play the veena for you, tie your sari, and be a devoted wife if you come; I'll make a home for you if you stay; I'll give you a child, a boy, if you marry me; isn't that a good enough reason for you to come? You have a chance to be a wife, mother, to have a home, and to be loved. But you're not interested in any of these things, are you? You're like a green cow that's about to be taken to the slaughterhouse, and you're still grazing in the fields, enjoying the beauty of life. You should be grateful for the security that I can offer you, but you're not even bothered about it.

You're like a bird that's about to be caught, and you're still flying freely, enjoying the wind beneath your wings. You should be careful, because once you're caught, you'll be trapped forever. But you're not even thinking about the future, are you? You're like a child who's playing with a toy, and aware of the dangers that lie ahead.

I know that you're not interested in me, but I'm still interested in you. I'm like a moth that's attracted to a flame, and I'm drawn to you, even though I'll get burned. ship that's sailing towards a storm, and I'm not even trying to avoid it. person who's walking towards a precipice, stop myself.

You're like a rare gem that's hidden in a cave, and I'm the only one who can see it. I'm like a doctor who's trying to cure a patient, can save you. king win a war, can conquer your heart. god create a new world, can make you happy.

But you're not even interested in me, are you? You're like a person who's sleeping, and aware of the world around you. tree that's standing in a forest, the beauty that surrounds river that's flowing towards the ocean, the journey that lies ahead.

I'm like a person who's trying to wake you up, and I'm the only one who can see the beauty that lies within you. to show you the way, can guide you through the darkness. trying to save you, can rescue you from the clutches of despair.

But you're not even interested in me, are you? You're like a person who's lost in a forest, and aware of the way back home. sailing on a ship, the destination. walking on a road, the journey that lies ahead.

As I sat with his granite-like shoulders wrapped around me, I felt a sense of security that I had never experienced before; was I experiencing for the first time? Not even a thousand hours spent in Debu's car would be enough to experience this feeling; it was a feeling that I cherished and loved. As Debu spoke with a sincerity that was beyond deceit, his eyes, which were as pure as a child's, began to tell a story; 'You won't be able to leave me now, I've hurt you so badly, Prarthana said, her voice trembling with emotion. 'Tell me, Debu, is it true that you've been in love with me for so long?' she asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

'Even if I had told you after twenty years, you would have given me the same answer, wouldn't you?' Debu replied, his voice filled with conviction. 'You're the one I love, Prarthana, I'm in love with you, and I won't let you go.'

Prarthana's eyes welled up with tears as she asked, 'Is it true that you've been waiting for me all this time?' Debu's face lit up with a smile as he replied, 'Yes, it's true, I've you, and I won't let you go.'

Prarthana's voice trembled as she asked, 'You've been waiting for me all this time, and you've been hurt by me, is that true?' Debu's eyes locked onto hers as he replied, 'Yes, it's true, I've you, but I won't let that stop me from loving you.'

Prarthana's eyes sparkled with tears as she asked, 'You're saying that you love me, and you won't let me go, is that true?' Debu's face lit up with a smile as he replied, 'Yes, it's true, I love you, and I won't let you go.'

Prarthana's voice trembled as she asked, 'You're saying that you love me, and you won't let me go, but are you sure that you're not just saying this to make me feel better?' Debu's eyes locked onto hers as he replied, 'I'm not you feel better, I'm saying this because it's true, I love you, and I won't let you go.'

As Prarthana listened to Debu's words, she felt a sense of security that she had never experienced before; she knew that she was loved, and not alone.

Debu's words had awakened a deep sense of love within Prarthana, and she knew that she would never be the same again. She felt a sense of peace that she had never felt before, was exactly where she was meant to be.

As they sat in the car, parked in the college parking lot, Prarthana felt a sense of calm wash over her; she knew that she was loved, and not alone.

Debu's words had given her a sense of security that she had never experienced before, and she knew that she would never be the same again. She felt peace felt was

Himavant began to talk in a chattering manner = If there was no such dream, I would have spent my life filled with love, in Debog's Shivamogga, in the Forest Lodge, the words you spoke; the letter you wrote, there's no regret when you leave. From the very first day, you must have found one of your friends here; I am your best friend, but not all good things are easy to get, I don't want you to be just good friends, I have mutual love and trust, but is that possible? Do you need a guarantee? a dream, dream of being my wife. life of hope; for years to come, patience. Debog, do you have the patience to bear all this?

Prarthana's eyes welled up with tears. "Look, Prarthana, even if I couldn't give you anything else, I will give you just one dream, a dream of being my companion. wife. Debog, believe me!"

She pulled off the reins of all the horses. "But, Debog, you must tell me one thing. In this matter, I finally agree to your proposal, but until then, you must not meet Prarthana; I don't want you to know."

She poured a glass of beer and asked, "What is it that you want to tell me? Tell me now, and after that, you must never meet her again. I swear on my honor."

Prarthana's voice was firm. "I don't want to hear anything until you tell me what you want to say. But from now on, don't bother her. I've had enough of this."

As the afternoon wore on, Prarthana's anger grew.

Prarthana's life was a mere flutter in the wings of a butterfly, a fleeting moment in the passage of time. There was no longer any reason for her to be anxious; Himavant a stranger to her, a man she had trusted blindly. A letter from him had dispelled all her doubts, and she plagued by worries about him. She no longer feared that he might be traveling to Davenagera with someone else, or eating She had decided that she would be the one to determine everything, from the car he drove to the people he met. It was a necessary deception, a small white lie that she had to tell herself, a reminder be cautious.

As she got dressed to meet Deb, she couldn't help but think about the past. She had been so young and beautiful, and she had thought that she could never be hurt. But life had been cruel, and hurt. naive, so innocent, deceived. But Deb had deceived her, left with a scar that would never heal.

As she put on her shoes, she thought about the way Deb had deceived her. He had given her a pendant, a small token of his love, and she had worn it around her neck. But it was not just a token of love; it was a reminder of the way he had deceived her. She had thought that he was a good man, a man who would never hurt her. But he had hurt her, and she had been left with a wound that would never heal.

As she got into the car, she thought about the way Deb had driven her to Davenagera. He had taken her to the outskirts of the city, to a place where the roads were narrow and winding. She had been so scared, so frightened, and she had thought that she was going to die. But Deb had been calm, so calm, and he had told her that everything would be okay.

As they drove through the city, Prarthana thought about the way Deb had treated her. He had been so kind, so gentle, and he had made her feel like she was the only woman in the world. But it was all a lie, that he had told her to get what he wanted. He had wanted to use her, to exploit her, and he had done just that.

As they approached the outskirts of the city, Prarthana thought about the way Deb had left her. He had abandoned her, left her to fend for herself, and she had been left with nothing. so alone, so scared, thought that she was going to die. But she had survived, learned to be strong.

As they turned onto the main road, Prarthana thought about the way Deb had called her. He "Dear", a term of endearment that he had used to make her feel special. But it was all a lie, told her to get what he wanted. He had wanted to use her, to exploit her, and he had done just that.

As they drove through the night, Prarthana thought about the way Deb had smoked. He had smoked a cigarette, that had been given to him by Deb, and he had inhaled the smoke deeply. He had been so calm, so relaxed, told her that everything would be okay.

As they approached the outskirts of Davenagera, Prarthana thought about the way Deb had treated her. He had been so cruel, so heartless, and he had made her feel like she was nothing. But she had survived, and she had learned to be strong. independent, to be self-sufficient, alone.

The thing that only he knew was that the pure passion that existed on his body was only for a moment, and that moment was when he was with Prarthana. Himavant's life was filled with joy because of her love, her madness, and her passion. There was no madness like that of a wild horse, and his boredom was also very dull. He was not like the wind that could be felt everywhere, but he was like a stone that was stagnant. But lately, something had changed. He wouldn't come to the hostel and would say that he had built a house behind the hostel's umbrella, and that he couldn't study in the hostel, so he would study with Prarthana at his house, and if she wanted, she could return to the hostel by 9 pm.

All of this made sense to Prarthana, but when Himavant hesitated to take her on a solo drive to Harihara Road, a wave of suspicion arose in her mind for the first time. That evening, Urmila returned to the room, laughing and joyful, and late, and the smell of cigarettes from her clothes touched Prarthana's anxious heart. "Didi, have you started smoking?" Prarthana asked Urmila, who then went to take a bath. For some reason, Prarthana was reminded of Himavant that evening.

That night, Prarthana couldn't sleep. After Urmila finished her bath and returned, she spread a small mat in the middle of the room, sat in Padmasana, and closed her eyes, muttering something to herself. Then, in a clear voice, she recited the Kanakadhara Stotra for a few minutes. Her hair, which was tied up in a braid, fell on her back, and in the dim light of the night, she looked more beautiful than ever. She was a beautiful girl, taller than Prarthana, but not as fair-skinned. Prarthana's eyes were Urmila's, but Urmila's eyes sparkled with intelligence. Prarthana couldn't help but think about why she couldn't forget Urmila, even though Urmila didn't talk much. In every class in college, Urmila was the first one to be noticed, and it was no secret that many boys were infatuated with her.

If she had decided to end it, she could have chosen anyone she wanted, but Urmila's personality was strange, and although everyone knew her, she wasn't close to anyone, perhaps not even to herself. It was Urmila's habit to build a fort around herself, but it wasn't visible to the outside world. Every time she spoke, she seemed extremely carefree, but her mind was closed off. The girl who had introduced her to Debu was Urmila's sister, and their friendship had begun then. Initially, Prarthana had left her at Himavant's room in Shivamogga, and they had spent the entire night at the Forest Lodge, just the two of them, and Urmila was aware of this, not hiding anything.

Thus, the strong friendship between Urmila and Debu was evident, and there was no intimacy between them, which was certain to Prarthana. If had been close, would she have turned to Debu? Was she drawn to his wealth, looks, or intelligence? Prarthana asked herself and replied that she wasn't that kind of girl. In the early days, had Debu been attracted to Urmila's sister? She had asked him once, and he had said, "Look, Prarthana, I'm a big egoist. I expect the girl who loves me to focus only on me and live for me, but Urmila doesn't have the temperament for that. There, two egos would clash, and love wouldn't blossom. I have a crush on Urmila, but she's not my type of girl.

She's a brilliant person, but she's not the kind of girl I'd like to spend my life with. I don't want a girl who would accompany me on a evening stroll, drinking and chatting, like Kaveramma's friend. I'd want as my wife." After that, Debu never spoke about Urmila's sister again. Urmila, too, never showed interest in talking about Debu, just like everyone else. Debu, like others, seemed to admire Urmila's intelligence, and Prarthana wondered if this conversation was still relevant.

Debu and Didi, both of them, had not been speaking about their matters, and it seemed like they were not going to break their silence anytime soon. Nuthan was frightened by the way they were behaving, and their actions seemed mysterious to him. Whenever Debu spoke, he would talk as if he had grasped the sky, but he no longer searched for Babu in the hostel like he used to. In the evenings, he wouldn't even provide an explanation for his absence, and if someone asked him where he was, he would say he was at the house behind the Gundichatra.

When Debu went to that house, his madness was terrifying to watch. His love, jokes, and songs had all disappeared, and all that was left was a hunger in his eyes. Nuthan wondered what had happened to Debu and whether he was the same person he used to be. A week ago, Debu had said that if he could escape from his grasp and go out of the house, it would be enough. Debu was not like Himavant, who had a strong body like a rock. Himavant had never been so furious before, and it seemed like he had remembered something from the past.

Debu, on the other hand, was different. He believed that marriage was just a certificate that people obtained from society, and there was no need to postpone today's happiness for the sake of it. He thought that passions should not be tested and that the body, which was made of bones, flesh, and blood, had desires that could not be explained by nonsense like purity and auspicious timings. Debu had said all this while moving towards Nuthan like a flood, and it seemed like his body had melted away like wax. Nuthan had been waiting for such a moment for a long time and had thought that even if it took years, he would eventually take control of Debu.

However, it seemed like Debu had deceived Himavant, and Nuthan had felt a strong urge not to cheat Debu. After a while, Debu had said, "Forgive me, I won't come in until you call me." There was a look of dissatisfaction and frustration on his face, which was evident.

If I recall now, it seems that after the eighth incident, Debu started becoming indifferent and began to turn away completely, towards the hostel. Kanva had stopped coming, perhaps because Urmi's behavior had been changing for days. What did it mean? Had the direction of the sun chariot changed? Prarthana had gone somewhere, and at one point, her suspicions had become so intense that in the evening, without calling anyone, she had gone alone and stood in front of the door of the Gundu Chhatri, unexpectedly, with Debu inside: Urmi Didi was perhaps there too? Had the door opened by itself as soon as she stood there? Had Urmi Didi intentionally made her presence known? Was Debu sitting without even wearing a banian? Her mind was extremely disturbed. After standing in front of the door for some time, she had noticed that the door had a lock on it, and she had returned with an answer.

However, by the time she reached the hostel gate, she thought, "Uh-huh, Debu is not someone who gets anxious like that; first, he will roam around in the Mercedes, talk for hours, and bring something or the other to show her, and only when the fragrance of the ripe fruit comes will he be able to bring her to the house behind the Chhatri." If both of them were there, wouldn't they get caught? What would Debu say? Urmi Didi had said that she was not a girl of my taste, right? Whatever Debu's story was, what had Didi said? Had she said, "You've hurt me, so I won't come"? It was unimaginable. It was possible that Didi knew about her relationship with Debu.

The fact that she had walked hand in hand with Debu was known to Didi, just like her relationship with Himavant was well-known, and Debu Babu came to the hostel every day was also known. Even knowing all this, was she going to let her dreams shatter? Anyway, she thought of going to the bath and coming back, and with that thought, she went towards the telephone booth, putting four more steps, and that's when she saw Urmi standing in front of the ice stall, wearing a vest.

As she came down the stairs, Prarthana said, "I was thinking of making a phone call, so I stepped out." Urmila's counter-question was sharp and sudden, "Do you still remember the life we had, or have you forgotten?" Prarthana's words were laced with a hint of sadness, "This month, I haven't sent any money, and tomorrow is the mess bill; it needs to be paid." Prarthana's voice trailed off, and after that, Urmila didn't mention Himavant again. Prarthana wondered if she had suspected Deb correctly, but she shouldn't have suspected Urmila.

That same night, after Urmila had gone to bed, Prarthana got up to write a small note that said "I'm sorry, Didi" and place it in one of Urmila's books. As she opened the book, she found a line written by Urmila on the last page, which made her stop in her tracks. The line was clear: "Love hit me!" Prarthana's note had melted away in her hand, and her doubts had begun to swirl. Was Urmila sad because she was losing Deb, or was she had unnecessarily cheated on Himavant? Prarthana couldn't understand. Himavant had never given her any reason to be sad; he had never allowed a third person to come between them. In his small world, she was the only woman, and no other feeling had ever stirred in him.

My Himavant is pure gold, but I'm chasing the junk of gold. Now that I've come so far, can I go back to Himavant after leaving Deb? Is it possible? What if she had committed a mistake by killing her relationship with Deb? made not understanding Deb? She was still the same person she was when she was in Davanagere; her mind was still wavering. If she turned back now, she wouldn't be able to ask for anything, but could she cheat on her second husband for the second time? Maybe Deb was just flirting, but he wasn't a bad person. Urmila, however, was...

She might have forgotten that he was her enemy, but if she had sat and talked to him, everything would have been resolved; what was the need to rush things and make a mess of it? A woman has to be patient when it comes to waiting; rejected that patience, it a disaster for the man; even if he had been a little late, what's the big deal, it's not like they were getting married that very day; even if they had gotten married harm? The body made of flesh and blood doesn't understand the language of reason; somehow, she had decided that he was going to be her husband, and she didn't want him to see her as a weak and timid person; whatever happen would happen today, and with that thought, Prarthana got up; in the last page of her diary, she had written: "I love you" - those three words were enough to convey her feelings; if only she had found an explanation for Himavant's behavior, maybe she could have prevented the unfortunate events that were about to unfold; but that didn't happen; Himavant, who had been angry with himself, was like a bird that had flown into a glass window and fallen to the ground; the reason was unknown; he would get up from his bed and start his daily routine without even looking at the sunrise; he would never start his day without watching the sunrise, except when he had a high fever; Prarthana had joined college in Davanagere and had settled down, and it had become a habit for her to get up early in the morning, finish her morning chores, and stand in front of the window, watching the sunrise; when she turned towards the east, it seemed like the sun's rays were shining just for her; she would smile, watching touch the roofs of all the houses in the Shivamurthy Circle area; in those moments, Himavant didn't have any prayers to offer; he wouldn't ask for anything; standing facing the sun, he would make a mental note of the tasks he had to complete that day; by the end of the night, he would have completed everything he had set out to do, and he would get the strength and confidence to do so from the sun itself; after the sun had fully risen, he would come down from the terrace; there was no terrace in the house, but instead, they had set aside space to build a hospital, Prarthana Hospital;

As I stood there, my mind wouldn't let me move, it was as if my legs had frozen. Prarthana hadn't come down to the hall as she usually did, and I was worried. I thought to myself, how many days has it been since I've seen her, and this gloom has been following me. I tried to recall the last time I saw her, but my mind was a blank. I thought about how I had decided to skip college that day, and instead, I would go to the hostel's courtyard, where Shantappa would be waiting with his motorcycle. But I didn't feel like it.

By the time Prarthana would leave for college, I would be standing in the courtyard, waiting for her. I would watch her as she walked out, and then I would prostrate myself at her feet, seeking her blessings. But today, I had decided to skip college. I thought about how my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Prarthana, and how I couldn't think of anything else. she was not just the girl I was going to marry, but she was my everything. Without her, I was nothing. I thought about what Prarthana might be doing at that moment.

At the same time, Prarthana was getting ready for her evening bath. She had been feeling restless since morning, and she couldn't calm her mind. Today was a special day, and she had to look her best. dress up in a way that would impress Debu, make sure she looked perfect. She would wear a dark blue suit, with a deep red rose on her chest, and she would drive a Mercedes. She wouldn't drink anything today, spend the entire night with Debu. She would give him a surprise, and in return, he would give her a gift. Debu would surely be impressed, and he would say only one thing to her - from now on, she was his.

Prarthana stood in the dimly lit bathroom, washing her shoulders. She knew that on the night before her wedding, her mother would bathe her, but she didn't have a mother. Her mother had never been there for her, and she had never experienced the love of a mother. the mother would whisper some secrets to her daughter, but Prarthana to share those secrets with. Her father was busy with his own work, and she was all alone.

She was getting ready, but her father wasn't there. They would adorn the girl with flowers at night, and make her wear new clothes. Someone or the other would be muttering something, and with a small bottle of milk in her hand, she would enter the room, and the door would close behind her. Outside, her friends would be laughing, while inside, there was a comforting silence. But she didn't feel any of that. None of them were there for her; she had to close the door behind her herself. If only Himavant were here today, he would take care of all her mistakes. He was like a god to her; everything, even her father and her friends. She knew how to appease god, but she shouldn't have deceived Himavant.

With that thought, Prarthana turned her attention to the new clothes and a new line of thinking. What was the point of all this? She had her god, and today, a wedding would take place. From that midnight moment, he was only hers. In the world of her god, no other woman's shadow would dare to enter. She would envelop him, and then, in their world, there would be no god, only the two of them. When would she tell all this to god? Her mind had made up its mind.

She turned her attention to the layers of her sari, which she was wrapping around her. No matter how hard she tried, a small jasmine flower caught her attention, reminding her of the moment she had descended the hostel stairs, wearing it, in the faint light of evening. Who was she thinking of at that moment? It was Himavant. What was he doing now? He wasn't doing anything. He hadn't even eaten since morning and was walking in the open field, not looking back at his work. Some inexplicable distress was haunting him.

Prarthana lay down on the hospital bed, staring at the stars that had just appeared. She thought someone was walking by and immediately sat up. The figures walking by didn't need an explanation - a man and a woman, probably laborers who had worked in the open field all day, tired and seeking pleasure. Their nerves were taut, stiff, like the strings of a veena, and they were on the verge of madness, beyond all limits, and slowly, gradually, they would loosen up, calm down, and subside like a flood.

Neither of them can see each other; they are sitting in the dark, beside a pit that has been dug, and nothing can be seen clearly. But to his mind, everything seems like the world's most beautiful and pure thing, like a man and woman becoming one. Is this not the ultimate truth? Why do we love such people and think that we should be like them? sanctify this act of becoming one, and this daily love? If love is not present, can this act not happen? And if this act love not happen?

The laborer, who was merging with her beside the pit, did he have love for her? Did I have as much love for Prarthana? Just then, a bird, whose name was unknown, flew out from behind a heap of mud, near the pit, making a strange noise and flapping its wings. Himavant became even more dejected. The laborers, wrapping their bodies in their clothes, got up and left without saying a word.

Himavant went to the drum kept in the courtyard, filled with water, and poured some water over his stone-walled house. He thought about what Prarthana might be doing at that moment. He felt a sense of satisfaction after bathing in the well water, which had been drawn up and filled to the brim. Standing on the slab in front of the well, relief after bathing seven or eight times in the cold water.

But then he thought, what is the point of bathing? Does it cleanse the mind or just the body? If it's then everyone who is alive would bathe after someone dies, to cleanse themselves of the impurity. Does bathing really Even after a funeral, men and women bathe and then go to the temple. Is this bathing just a ritual? Why am I bathing like this, drawing water from the well? The water that I am pouring over my body is only cleansing my body, not my mind.

As soon as this thought occurred to him, he poured the last pot of water over himself and threw the pot down on the ground. He then walked back to his house, pushing open the creaky door. The door creaked like the door of Ravana's palace in the epic, and just like that, his house opened. Urmila, whose name he had just learned, was standing in the courtyard, her face pale.

For the first time, Urmi had knocked on the door, and Debu was nervous; his lips had dried up, and his fingertips felt a slight tremble, as if his entire being was aware of the significance of this moment. Was he really in such a predicament? Certainly, Debu was a lone hunter in his pursuits, and when it came to his conquests, he never involved anyone else. Whether it was Kasuti Kaveramma's house or any other, he would go alone, and his friends would only be called upon to share in the revelry, to eat, drink, and make merry together. However, when it came to this particular hunt, he had kept it entirely to himself.

If the girl wanted, she could be like Kasuti Kaveramma, a perfect, ideal woman, but for Debu, she was the only one who mattered. There were a thousand stories about him in college, and if he had set his sights on the new girl in town, it was only a matter of time before he would make his move. He would take her on a drive in the evening, to dinner at night, and by morning, she would be sitting in the library, a picture of innocence. By midday, they would both be lost in their own little world, and the corridors of the college would be abuzz with the news of their romance.

But Debu was being extremely cautious this time, more so than ever before. He could lie to any girl on the street, tell her a hundred falsehoods, and even narrate his past conquests in vivid detail. However, he couldn't afford to get caught in such a situation, not now, not in this state. The girl knocking on the door was not just anyone; she was Urmi, and she wouldn't tolerate another woman in his life. She continued to knock and it was clear that she couldn't be turned away.

Debu realized that he couldn't just send her back from the doorstep, and with a sense of certainty, he got up, put on his favorite navy blue t-shirt, and the light brown cotton pajamas that were lying nearby. He ran his hands through his hair, adjusting it to perfection, and despite feeling a bit disheveled, he made his way to the door. He glanced at the girl, who was still knocking, and raised an eyebrow, as if to ask who it could be. He caught Urmi's eye and signaled to her to keep quiet, and just then, she called out to him in a loud voice, "Debu!"

"Give me two minutes," he said, helping the girl put on her clothes. She had come wearing a saree, of all things; stupid girl. It would have been better if he had sent her away in the afternoon. Even called her over at night, no disaster would have occurred. Besides, where was the difference between day and night for the girls of Kaveramma’s house? But Kaveramma had been in a rush. The girl wasn't from here; she was from Mangaluru, and had to catch the night bus back. "Send her back by seven-thirty or eight," she had insisted. Her anxieties were always of this sort. But what had possessed him? Instead of having her brought all the way here, wouldn't it have been better if he had gone to Kaveramma’s house himself? For him, that wasn’t a forbidden place to visit; in this one aspect of life, nothing was taboo for him. But what had been aroused today was not mere desire. It was not just lust. It was someone who had suddenly risen and manifested from deep within him; someone he could probably never suppress—the flirtatious Debu inside him!

Ever since he left the hostel and rented this house located in the row behind Gundi Choultry, his mind had been restless. How different was he from a debauched husband whose mind yearns to bring another woman home by evening the very moment his wife leaves for her parents’ house? There was absolutely no difference between them. He had personally overseen the decoration of this rented house. Curtains here, a vase there; on the table, a photograph of himself, underneath which was written in a small hand: *Call me by my name*; books on the desk; on the wall, a picture of a semi-naked woman whose navel had been depicted as an ashtray; Poet Tagore's portrait a bedspread with light pink patterns on the bed; a half-wall-high full-length mirror staring directly at richly fragrant air freshener in the bathroom, and on its wall, a picture of two angry cobras standing erect and locked in an embrace. He knew this much: no girl who walked into this room would ever return with her saree uncrumpled.

But the women from Kaveramma’s house didn't care for any of this. They wanted a man, and he had to be generous. If he pulled out a bottle of champagne from his liquor cabinet and poured it for them, there were no better companions than these women. But he required ambience. Debu was not a ravenous glutton who devoured his food in a hurry; his was a royal hunt. He had ensured that every tiny detail of the room was exactly as he desired. He had searched far and wide to bring back four or five varieties of orchids, placing them in small pots. From the day he rented it until today, he had not allowed a single friend to set foot inside this house. Those who entered this house...

Himavant thought to himself, "Let them go, Prarthana! And Urmi too. They are crying there, both of them, with him, and are wandering together. But they have left this house, knowing that they would not be able to bear the hardships of life. They have not even been able to withstand the burden of their own clothes. both of them, without even being weight And he, too, has not been their love. He has love, and also the weight of their expectations. He has to be patient, believe. At every stage, defeated, and defeated, until he finally achieves the ultimate victory, with the help of all those defeats. surrender everything that belongs to him; go barefoot, anywhere, without any belongings; he has to become a complete failure, and only then will he be able to achieve the ultimate victory. And that is what Debu had thought to himself, again and again, and had been defeated, He had been confined to this room for only a few months, but he had not been able to record even a single moment of happiness in this room. with his beautiful and intelligent friends, and they had played together, and laughed together, and had spent their days together, but that had not brought him any real happiness. It was just a fleeting pleasure, a momentary joy, which had not been able to satisfy his soul. And that was why he had been defeated, again and again.

He had been thinking of calling his friends, and had even made a phone call to Kaveramma's house, but had not been able to muster the courage to talk to her.

Urmila, standing at the threshold, gasped in shock and leaned against the wall. The woman at the doorway, Urmila, stood there, her eyes intense, a line of sweat trickling down her forehead. No, the woman from Mangalore didn't dare to look at Urmila’s face properly. Debu, slumped in his chair, had turned into a statue. What a tragic silence had descended upon the small house’s hall. It felt as if anyone of the three spoke, it wouldn't be a mere word, but would explode like a bomb. Leaning against the wall, after looking at the tall figure, she looked at Debu once. "A man? You're the one she loves? This disgust wells up from the depths of my being. Urmi, I want you. My dealings are always straightforward. I don't have the patience to build dreams of love and wait. You are my love-time friend. A small encounter is enough for such dealings to be over. If I had asked directly, whether I would have agreed to be with you or not, that's a different matter. But listen, I'll tell you the truth: the kind of disgust I feel for you now, it definitely wouldn't have surfaced then. I told you that at the Forest Lodge gate. If you still want me, then let it all happen. But what did you say that day? until yesterday afternoon? Is it your deceit or self-deceit, you tell me, Debu. You call it love, affection. You say you’ve stayed with me, dying and living. You say your sincere love for me hasn't died even after ten years. Now tell me, Prarthana is dying. You say it's just to hurt me. Even after looking at you with such intense eyes, you expect me to believe you and your words?" Her angry words flowed from one sentence to another. Urmila felt something was burning inside her, she didn't know what. If she had been any more patient, perhaps she would have managed to bear everything. But the doorbell rang. A man. Urmila couldn't bear to look at the girl’s helpless face. Debu couldn't muster the courage face, let alone the Mangalore woman he had called over. She must have had a drink. It’s been at most two hours since she arrived.

She has mastered speech; song; laughter; nakedness; applause; grandeur! She might be a professional but, at the end of it all, there was a look of admiration on her face about her individuality, about the grandeur she displayed; a kind of thanks in her eyes. While Urmila stood watching, hurling abuses at him, she would now glance at him as if to say, "Oh, is that all?" This was someone she didn't know, not a lover, and she wouldn't have any occasion to meet her again. But a look of contempt was being directed at her from her eyes? If she could see it in her eyes, her ego wouldn't recover for another seven lives. It started to feel like it would be enough if she left as soon as possible. Exactly at that moment, she, [Madam, if I've made a mistake, I'm sorry] "I'm so sorry. We are professionals; we have to go to town at night. If you give me my money, I'll leave." she said. A clear wave of disgust swept across Urmila's face. Debu slowly rose from the chair. The darkness of the dead evening had already descended upon the hall. He took out his wallet from the pocket of the trousers hanging in the kitchen where he had lit the lamp and silently counted ten notes of a hundred rupees, giving them to the Mangaluru girl. The girl, without saying a word, picked up her vanity bag from the side of the wall and walked out of the house into the dim light. Had she taken two steps or not, she stopped abruptly. A figure was standing in the passage in front It was clear from its posture that it had been standing there for quite some time, but the Mangaluru girl who had come out of the house didn't know the name of the figure standing there was Prarthana. She bowed her head and left. Even after she departed, Urmila's loud voice continued to be heard from inside the house. For Prarthana, who had stopped in the passage opposite the house without knowing what was happening inside Debu Babu's house the moment she arrived, as Urmila's voice began to drift from inside, one by one, the details started to become clear. Deb Babu was not alone in his house. Urmila had also just arrived. Deb then either; he had been caught with someone else. She didn't need anyone to tell her what a pathetic state a man caught like that would be in, because, at an age when she didn't even understand what a man was, such a man had fallen into her hands, his name was Appa! Her hatred for men had begun from that day. If another such man had entered her life, perhaps she would have started hating men permanently? But

He was Himavant. God. God does not stoop to wickedness, so Debu, who was enrolled, did not want to become God. At the very least, he becomes a human being, that's what Debu has done. All the goodness in Himavant was not even in Debu. Debu, who had thought so, got caught in this situation. It was not her, it was her. She had listened carefully to every word Urmila had spoken. who was suffering. Besides, the wandering was not for her. Debu loved Deedi, to hurt her! To have her through Urmi. She had to go inside the house and curse Debu's face, scold him. A man! Does Himavant have such compassion? Why should she think he was quiet? But Urmi? All men have it. Even when she knew her bond with Debu had been formed, what happened to Urmi? Why did she have to step between them? Perhaps Debu was not there before; it was I who stepped in. Though there was a clear indication, my friendship was not fruitful without haste, and in vain, Urmila's indifference broke their bond. Finding Urmila uninterested, Debu's interest, without Urmila even knowing, made a hasty decision. It was I who wandered, thinking I had left. She should not have done that. It felt like they had left Debu behind. That's enough. With a single event, all her illusions shattered. Everything for him. Debu's money, intelligence, songs, words - let them both be in one place. Let Urmila keep her seniority. Somewhere it feels like after all this, she should be made to forget herself for different reasons. Seeing all this, will she still be remembered like a mother for a child who has lost her way in their relationship? She pressed her forehead tightly and stood firmly in the passage, looking at the wall opposite. His love seemed to flow. This Debu is a lie, a big lie. Urmi her concern "Himavant, they are all like you. You too must weep! I am the one who left, forgive me, O God, my earnest request." Prayer? What forgiveness? After committing betrayal, in what voice does Prarthana's mind speak? "What do I do now?" Debu was not there, as if he had always been there. It had come to her lips on its own. The courtyard in front was empty. There was a small light coming from inside the house.

"Please tell me why," Prarthana requested. "Now what should I do?" "Whatever a girl would do, I would do the same. Ugh, Prarthana, I have just vomited. What you can do is the same." "You have the strength to recover from something like this faster than me. You are younger than me. I won't force you. In half an hour... I will wait in my room for you. Let's finish this today, both of us. Don't delay, come quickly!" she said, speaking in one breath as she stormed out of Debu's room like a whirlwind. She moved towards the street. While Prarthana was standing in the darkness of the passage at that moment, a slight shock was registered on her face, apart from that, only disgust towards Debu spread across her eyes. She did not even wait for Prarthana at the turn of the street. She found an auto and told it to go towards the city. Though it felt to her like she had become more anxious than 'necessary', she confirmed throughout the auto ride that every word she had spoken had been carefully weighed. As soon as she entered a STD booth near Chetana Hotel, she dialed Kaveramma's house number. "Everything happened as I thought, Kaveramma. Thank that girl. I will send the money tomorrow. I will come and see you sometime later. But remember what I said well. None of this should reach Himavant. Swear it on me," she said. From the other side, a voice of consent was heard. After that, Urmila reached the hostel and sat waiting for Prarthana, who had not even bathed or eaten. Everyone had performed their roles, unknowingly, with utmost perfection. The girl from Vanamaluru who had gone to Debu's house had no inkling. If caught with a man, how would they behave if they were not police or from that profession, she behaved exactly like that. The moment she left for Debu's house in the afternoon, Kaveramma had sent a message to the hostel for the girl from Vanamaluru to be called by Debu, and to inform Urmila about the matter, and finally, that none of this matter should reach Himavant.

That it was all connected to Urmila's warning that one should not be hasty, Prarthana understood. Debu, standing at the door, was oblivious to the greatest calamity of his life. Without realizing it, Prarthana had arrived at his doorstep with perfect timing. Everything had happened exactly as she had planned. She had orchestrated it all, ensuring that no detail that Debu had conceived of was missed. He had behaved like a lecherous man, just like a "typical flirt," without any deviation from the script. Everything had unfolded exactly as she had envisioned. Now, Prarthana could not proceed further with Debu. As she thought this, returning to her Himavant, a picture flashed before Urmila's eyes: Himavant, sitting alone in the open field of Gadikoppa, his eyes wide with a thousand expectations, on the mound of earth where he had planned to build a hospital for Prarthana. And for some reason, she felt a pang of sorrow! Unbeknownst to Urmila at that very moment, everything had slipped from her control and the event that unfolded was this: Prarthana knocking on the door in the middle of the night. And Debu opening the door!

He stood frozen like a stone in the passage in front of the house. Suddenly, Prarthana seemed to come back to reality. It would have been better if Urmila didi had stood at Debu's front door for a little longer and verbally abused him. Standing the house, she would have found some time to recover from the shock of seeing the Mangalore girl walking away with her bag in hand. Was she scolding him? Was she taunting digging up Debu's very existence and burying it? In any case, Urmila stood there for that long. She was right in front of me. I couldn't see her, but the feeling that Urmila didi was there guarded me, waited for me. But for myself, there was only darkness now. There was a lamp inside the house, Debu was there, but there was no light, no street to see. I knew; a guilt that would bring a grimace to his face would be floating on his face, the kind of disgust that floats on the face of a man caught in bed with a prostitute. Not just that, but also the disgust she felt towards herself for the relationship she had with Urmila. It seemed as though every relationship he had wanted to establish had been exposed.

He would not forgive this in his life. More than that, find the affection in the eyes of this girl, Prarthana, directed towards him in this lifetime. For the first time, a storm brewed within Prarthana. She had no need to repent for it. Her life until now was a curse. To offer herself to him with so much affection, and he was lying there, rolling around with Urmi. With two women! With Didi... "Damn Debu," she thought, it was impossible to stand there any longer. She turned towards home, not looking back even once as if for the last time, and walked back into the dark passage, heading towards the street. If she had looked back, perhaps the directions of her life and Debu's life would have changed. Because Debu, who had suddenly come to the door, watched Prarthana walking away with shock. His sharp eyes were fixed on the bareness of her back, not covered by her blouse, and in those eyes, an age-old desire was yawning. "So, will she come back?" Debu said to himself. "Urmi will never come to my room, to my evenings, to my proximity, again. Because she saw me with that Mangalore woman. She is possessive. She will never forgive me. But Prarthana is not like that. She might have confirmed that the Mangalore girl was with me. heard every word Urmi cursed me with. She might even know about my relationship with Urmi. Still, she will come back. Because she is emotional. The sulking of emotional girls doesn't last long. She cannot live without me. At this point, she won't go back to Himavant either. Prarthana is helpless." Thinking this, he went back inside and locked the door. The lingering effects of the champagne he drank in the afternoon still felt in his lungs. Such evenings call for whisky. He took a bottle of whisky from the liquor cabinet. As he gulped down the first sip, Prarthana had reached the turn of the road in front of the gate. Had half an hour passed? Didi would be waiting in the room. But for him, time seemed to have stopped. It was like a lightning bolt striking the fortress of her innocent feelings. Two years ago, in the village house, with her sister-in-law, seeing her father in that state...

"that shock." Even then, seeing the innocent, her heart became so emotional that today not just the strings of the veena of her mind, but even the strings snapped at once. Himavant was her support. How many years have passed since then? What a wonderful time it was, days passed by without her realizing it. As she thought this, Prarthana's mental composure was lost. This is the right punishment for you, Prarthana. This is a curse. This is Himavant's curse. A curse for his goodness. your deception. Even then, the time spent with Debu, what a wonderful time you think it was? Is there anyone more deceitful than you? For these very two years, Himavant toiled, his body drenched in sweat and blood for your sake. You don't even remember it. Is there forgiveness for someone like you? Her mind turned upside down. I don't want any of this. There's always a bus to Shivamogga. Should I return to Himavant? She thought. That small room, the terrace that could be reached by climbing onto the window ledge, the stars in the sky, the stone bench on the bank of the reservoir. Himavant's sweat. Everything came back to her. She recalled them one by one. Her mind felt immense joy. But, no. The attraction didn't ignite. Her mind wasn't moving towards Shivamogga. She knew; if she went there, Himavant would embrace her with a thousand arms. No matter her condition, no matter what she had become, he wouldn't tell her to leave that small room. "You are still young. Younger than me. I have to correct you. nurture you. Study diligently for just three years, Prarthana, become a doctor, and come back. I will stand at the grand door of my dreams and wait for you," he would say. But what is the need to go there? Debu wouldn't know. Even if he knew she had returned to Himavant, it wouldn't hurt him. He wouldn't get angry. Debu knows better than me that I worship Himavant, but I don't love him. He will be at peace. Debu shouldn't you bastard. Flirting isn't just for you. Don't you know I can do it too? Right here in Davanagere, in this same college, I will walk around with my arms around another man's shoulder right in front of your eyes. Let blood flow from your eyes. If such fickleness disturbs the harmony of companionship, let me also understand what its consequences will be. Bringing a woman from Mangalore... it hurt me.

did not feel like a companion. What do I know about the desires of a male body? I am just a body from Mangalore, only flesh; you can adorn it as you wish. I have no sorrow, desire dies very quickly, but you should not have loved Urmi. I cannot regain my composure without teaching you a lesson in return; not sometime later, but today, right now. Deciding so, as if driven by madness or impulse, she walked briskly down Balaji street and entered a telephone booth. There was no need to find the boys' hostel number. But she didn't know his room number. What's in the number? "I am Prarthana speaking... Is Sujoy, Debu's roommate, there? Sujoy Malhotra? Could you please call him urgently?" she blurted out. For a moment, she couldn't explain her own behaviour. Why Sujoy Malhotra above all else? Had her mind, without her knowing, ever thought of him before? No chance. Her mind was drowned in thoughts of Debu. Sujoy never even crossed her mind. If he started talking about Sujoy, she would dismiss him with, "Talk about something else, Debu." He might be handsome, true, but she had never, ever thought of Sujoy in this manner. So why did she tell them to call him at the boys' hostel? For some reason, a victorious smile seemed to play on Prarthana's lips. If she wanted all of Debu's peace, pride, and happiness to be shattered, it had to be him, his closest friend. A boy who considered Debu superior in everything. Debu was not as rich as him; not as intelligent as him. His stature was also not noteworthy. His appearance was also nothing to write home about. But watch, Debu, I will defy you and walk arm in arm with someone inferior to you. The whole college will laugh at you. What did I say? Are you not a master flirt? You cunning fellow, who probes into Urmi Didi's inner self while appeasing me. Do you think I cannot do what you did? Watch. As soon as she finished speaking, a voice from the other side said, "Sujoy here." "Come immediately. I know you don't have a car. Come on the bike. Today I am in a very good mood. The faster you drive on the Harihara road, the better company you'll be. I need a drink. Please, Sujoy."

Prarthana said that day, "Prarthana, if anything happens to Debu..." Sujay shivered. "But..." she interrupted, pressing the cruise control button. "You come with me." Just as she was about to return, she thought, "Oh, he's going to the dhaba with the boot owner." "What a coincidence, isn't it? I'm my roommate Debu." Prarthana, who had just experienced something with Sujay, began to enjoy it. Within a surprising stride, Sujay, dressed in a dark t-shirt, white pants, and a Pathani suit, appeared before her on his motorcycle. There was surprise in his eyes. She quickly got on the seat behind the motorcycle and held Sujay's back with her right hand. She felt it would have been better if she had worn a churidar instead of a saree today. As Sujay's motorcycle moved slowly towards the Pune road, the wind blowing said, "Sujay took a bath a little while ago. Some powder is emanating from his back. He smells like a newly bathed elephant. Humming some old song while driving..." She held his shoulder even tighter. Debu felt like she was groaning somewhere far away. It wasn't a joke. She hadn't brought Sujay out tonight as a mere excuse to hurt Debu. If Debu could roll around with that Mangalorean body all afternoon, she too could sit clinging to Sujay's back until they reached the dhaba. If Urmila and Debu could roam around in the Mercedes at an odd hour, drink wine with Sujay at the dhaba, looking into his eyes. "May this night truly be a happy one. Let Debu die! Debu, goodbye," she told herself. Prarthana was even more pleased to see four couples from their college "Tomorrow morning, Debu will get the news!" She called the dhaba boy and ordered herself. Sujay was reluctant to drink whiskey, but he was not a man of few words. She ordered a gin for herself and started the conversation. "Why did you remember me today? Where is Debu?" Sujay asked. "He is with Urmila," she said, her voice devoid of warmth. "Oh, is that why you remembered me?" Sujay smirked.

You've always been fond of me, Vruti, and you've always wanted to know about my relationship with music; discuss it with me. But I never thought that music would be so captivating for you, and yet, a bit apathetic about it. You've never shown any interest in it, and whenever I've tried to talk to you about it, you've always seemed disinterested. But now, I've come to realize that you're not just disinterested, you're actually very passionate about music.

You said to me, "I've always liked you, Vruti. I've always wanted to talk to you about music." And I said to you, "I've about music, but I never thought you'd be interested." And "I'm very interested, but I've never had the courage it."

I remember that night when we were at the Shivamogga house, and you were drinking your third whiskey. You were looking at me with a mixture of sadness and anger in your eyes, and you said to me, "I've always liked you, Vruti. I've always wanted to talk to you about music." And I said to you, "I've about music, but I never thought you'd be interested."

You started crying, and I could see the pain in your eyes. You said to me, "I've never had the courage to talk to you about music because I've always been afraid of what you'd think." And I said to you, "I've always thought that you were interested in music, but I never thought you'd be passionate about it."

You started sobbing, and I could see the tears streaming down your face. You said to me, "I've always loved music, Vruti. I've always wanted to talk to you about it, but I've never had the courage." And I said to you, "I've about music, but I never thought you'd be interested."

As I was watching you cry, I felt a pang of guilt in my heart. I realized that I had been wrong to assume that you were not interested in music. you were passionate about it, and that you had been afraid to talk to me about it because of what I might think.

I took your hand in mine, and I said to you, "I'm sorry, Vruti. I had no idea that you were passionate about music." And you said to me, "I'm sorry too, Vruti. I've always wanted to talk to you about it, but I've never had the courage."

As we sat there, holding hands, I felt a sense of connection with you that I had never felt before. I realized that we had been missing out on so much by not talking to each other about our passions.

And then, I heard a noise coming from outside. It was a faint rustling sound, and it seemed to be coming from the direction of the house. I looked at you, and I saw that you were looking at me with a mixture of fear and confusion in your eyes.

"What was that?" you asked me, your voice

When I, who had left, returned before midnight, why should anyone else not have returned from here? - God forbid that doesn't happen, she thought, knocking on the door even more firmly. "Deb," Prarthana said as the latch inside the door clicked. "Oh... Come in, Prarthana," Deb opened the door. The dim blue light that was burning in the house was enough to determine that no one else was inside. Without even bothering to reply to his exclamation, Prarthana walked in. Deb, closing the door behind her, followed. "What is this... like this so late at night?" Deb kept asking in surprise. She didn't answer anything. She knew Deb took a bath in the evenings. At least lukewarm water would be left in the geyser. Thinking that the water would heat up in ten minutes if she switched it on again, Since it was clear she wouldn't speak for a while, Deb also gave up those questions and sat quietly on a chair in the hall. By then, the initial surprise of why she had come so suddenly had passed, and he was sure that Urmile would not return. But his hope that Prarthana would not be able to leave him came true, and Deb's mind, like Chandranath Bandyopadhyay's lustful eyes, began to see a new desire. But what explanation could be given for the incident that happened in the evening? Deb began to think. "Deb Babu, I'll take a bath and come. Fix a drink for me, I have a lot to talk about," Prarthana said, pulling the bathroom door shut from the inside. She began to wonder about him. He is a man. He must be doing a thousand things. A pure adulterer. Besides, has Deb ever hidden anything from her regarding the affairs at Kaveramma's house? Where did he claim to be a person of immense restraint when it came to women? Of course, his behavior with Urmile might have been wrong, and at that moment it seemed unforgivable. But what had she done? Himavant first, then Deb, then Sujay at night! Where has she come to and reached? This day's experience was terrible, like Bhagiratha. It's been about one and a half years since she met Deb, such a petty adulterer. But with her, he has never...

He hadn't thought that there could be such a wicked demon within Sujay. While pouring lukewarm water over her body felt soothing, standing naked under the dim light of the room, she clearly saw the marks on her body that looked like they were stained with blood. For some reason, tears welled up again. As if shedding the sins of countless births, Prarthana finished her sinful bath. That evening, she didn't want to touch the sari and blouse she had worn. Wearing one of Debu's t-shirts, brought from his wardrobe, and tying a lungi with small checks around her waist, she came out of the bathroom, wrapping Debu's towel around her wet hair. It felt as if all of Sujay's taint had washed away and Debu had completely enveloped her body. The bitterness of the evening also seemed to have melted away on its own. Most importantly, she didn't remember Himavant even once. However, as she came out of the bathroom and entered the living room, seeing Debu's condition, she stood there with a broken heart. It was dark when she entered the house; he hadn't noticed her. Now she noticed that Debu's eyes were swollen like blood balls. He had been crying all evening. He was still crying; his face was full of the wrinkles of remorse. In just a few hours, Debu had become a living corpse. The chest hair on his chest lay helplessly under his soaked shirt. He hadn't eaten or drunk anything since the evening. He sat hunched over, like a stone. On the teapoy in front of him was a bottle of gin, and next to it a bowl of lemon cordial; but Debu refused to drink. "You have kept only one vessel for me, haven't you? Prarthana, I won't even ask for your forgiveness. Until this moment, I haven't been able to forgive myself. No one can care more about me than I do about myself. I am not just a flirt. I am lecherous! When I was with that girl from Udupi, the insult of Urmila arriving didn't remain with me. When Urmila stood at the door, scolding and reviling me, I wasn't even sad that you heard it. But how could I hurt a girl like you so much? No excuse; I left thinking I would break Urmi's pride, and without reason, I rejected and insulted the one who had humiliated me, take revenge by mentally destroying her. Somewhere, seeing my closeness with her, you..."

I made the foolish mistake of thinking you would be around forever. But now, Prarthana, you must leave. Don't let yourself be bothered by what happened with a stranger from Mangalore, someone whose name I don't even know. It’s a habit that can be broken any day. But I regret hurting you in this matter… I hate myself.”

As soon as he spoke, Urmila covered her face and began to sob. His hard exterior seemed to melt away. For a while, Prarthana didn't say anything. She took a new blanket from the cupboard and spread it on the bed. Wiping herself with the towel she was wrapped in, she swept her hair back and tied it in a small knot. She then took a bindi from where it was stuck to the bathroom door and placed it on her forehead. Even on such a confusing night, a flicker of pride enveloped her, the thought that her full arms, chest, and glistening neck looked incredibly attractive in a dark t-shirt. She poured gin and lemon cordial into a glass, pulled a chair in front of the deity, and sat down. For some reason, she suddenly felt everything was peaceful, calm, and under control. Though it felt slightly uncomfortable to sit in a lungi as she wasn't used to it, she relaxed, thinking that the one in front of her was her deity, wasn't he? No, Debu didn't even lift his eyes; he looked like a wounded bird. Remorse was eating him alive. He seemed to have fallen into an unsolvable sorrow. I had thought that he might have been shattered by Urmila's taunts that day. I thought he would be reeling from the whirlwind of humiliation. I thought his masculinity wounded. But what is likely consuming Debu is a psychological torment. The regret of having hurt someone like you. Prarthana looked at him with an inexplicable affection. "I did hurt you. It’s true I might have neglected you for a few days without my knowledge, and that's also true. But I never betrayed you, Prarthana. Even in Urmila's matter, I set out to break her pride, not to betray her and celebrate. I have never suppressed my bodily desires. But, I swear on the person I love most in the world, I never yearned for your body to be mine.

I never felt the urge to rush through life; I had bowed my head to your feet, remember? I desired that a part of you, completely, should be mine. Wanting is not wrong, but I did not suppress my other selfish desires. The one who should have opened his heart to the waterfall, for the sake of a nameless Mangaluru girl, is regretting it. I am not ashamed of that, but Urmila, have I hurt you? For that, what forgiveness is there, Prarthana? Debu asked in a voice where tears were streaming profusely from his eyes like fiery embers. Prarthana, having finished her second peg, set down the glass. The wax had melted completely. Using the teapoy in front of her, she went and stood very close to Debu. She gently caressed his disheveled hair. "Debu Babu, men should not cry. Did you truly love me that intensely? I am asking for the last time; answer me honestly just once. I have come here very hurt," she said. Time stood still in the room. Debu did not speak immediately. For a moment, he stared intently into the eyes of the woman clinging to him. In a small pool of tears, the swing of his life was rocking. Only the last particle of wax remained to melt. "I will never ask for your forgiveness, Prarthana. But by the child I might have someday, I loved you, I love you, I will love you till the end. Even after your rejection, I will keep loving you. Only you." Debu's words ended. Prarthana hugged him tightly around her waist like a baby and began to sob uncontrollably. The tears that had been held back, which had erupted on the Harihara road and chased her into the darkness of the passage in front of Debu's house, now poured down like a great storm. "You are the one who should be forgiven, Debu. I was doubted your love. decided to teach you a lesson. standing at the door, believed all the angry words of Urmila Didi and became stubborn. called Sujay. took him to the dhaba where we spent hundreds of evenings together. Where was that infatuation? In which bad cell of my body did it hide? Facing you, I said, 'I love you, man!' and sat behind him on the bike. Forgive me, Debu! Sujay is not a human being."

"This is the right punishment. I shouldn't have lied to Debu, whom I love more than my life. From now on, I will never doubt you. I will not leave your shadow, move away from you. No, don't make my love seem like a lie. Please forgive me." Prarthana was still crying, but Debu was turning to stone. It felt as if the flirt in him had died right then and there. The figure of Sanjay Malhotra became clearer in his eyes. He realized that some things a woman should never reveal to her husband, in the dead of night, in a drunken stupor, in her eagerness to prove her love for Debu, more than her life. That innocent girl, Prarthana, had blurted it out. She thought she had unburdened herself, but she had become hollow. Without even a slight apprehension that the confession of that night would torment her until the last moment of her life, Prarthana had fallen into a deep sleep in Debu's embrace. In her state, there was no possibility of her digesting the colorless alcohol she had drunk and continuing the conversation. Debu himself gently carried the girl who his embrace and laid her on the bed. At that moment, he stood by the bedside, staring at Prarthana's face. He felt as if he had destroyed the innocence that was present in every line, every movement of her face. On her arm, on the slope of her chest, there were blood-red marks. They were the fingerprints of Sanjay Malhotra. For the first time in his life, he felt he had lost. He drank the remaining gin in the bottle without adding water, gulping it down his throat. It wouldn't be difficult to knock on the door in a while. After all, he was from the same room. Should he just go and kill him and come back? Debu began to feel disgusted. He was in a daze, not fully conscious. His clothes were scattered. After a year and a half of dealing with him, his body was broken. She was not even in a condition to protest. Just surrender to him. She would agree. Wasn't that what he had been waiting for all these days? Debu started to rage.

But Sujay Malboh's memory killed his desires. Forget about getting married; his mind didn't even dare to touch her. The rest of the night was completely empty. Somewhere outside the house, the third watch turning. He covered Prarthana for the night with a blanket and lay down on a mat on the floor. Just as sleep was about to take hold, he suddenly sat up. "What exactly did Sujay Malboh do to you?" he asked in a clear voice, but it felt more like he was asking himself than Prarthana. Without the slightest inkling that in his future life, he would have to wake up like this in the third watch of many nights and wear himself out by repeatedly asking this same question, Debashish Chandrakant Bandopadhyay had fallen asleep that day. A different answer, completely unrelated to his question, had enveloped his inner being by morning. "No, this is not adultery; it's not flirting. If I hadn't loved Prarthana with all my heart, this fact that she rode on a bike embracing him would not have bothered me so much; I been so wounded. Why any doubts about this?" I love Prarthana. And love Prarthana. Debu's lust, Debu the flirt, from last night... died! Just as he decided this, Prarthana came out from the inner room. The day was shining.

Prarthana's eyes were serene. The anxieties of the night had vanished. After her bath, wearing Debu's lungi and t-shirt again, she came out of the bathroom with her wet hair falling down her back. She was an absolute nymph. Debu was staring at her. She wasn't exceptionally clever. She had just enough intelligence to get into a medical course. There was no sparkle of immense wisdom in her eyes, but there were the innocent charms of love. Prarthana was not a girl with very peculiar tastes, but she sang beautifully.

The admiration of people is not like that of a god; but one in a lakh might find someone who loves as intensely as Prarthana. Prarthana is not wealthy. But she has enough wealth to overcome her poverty. someone who blossomed in the culture of her Bengali family. But her goodness is greater than any culture. She has no qualities that are intensely repulsive or objectionable. She loves him enough to go away, but not so possessive that it suffocates him to death. Does he truly love her? Enough to marry her? No chance. A girl marrying someone as handsome, intelligent, and wealthy as Debu cannot be as ordinary as Prarthana. She must have unimaginable attractions, such a charm. Does Urmila have that? Absolutely not. The very memory of her is bitter. She might be intelligent but not as empathetic as Prarthana. Whatever charm Urmila possesses is suited for a lover, not necessarily for a wife. Being good is enough. But in his life, the word "lover" has no place anymore. He will never flirt with anyone The reddish scars that appeared on Prarthana’s body, the tight grip of Sujoy Malhotra, are enough. The flirt inside him has died suddenly. He has no other desires now. He is content if a girl like Prarthana, who loves and adores him more than God, walks with him till the end, never insults him, and has a calm personality, becomes his wife. Thus, his mind had decided. But will he find another girl like Prarthana? Or will he marry Prarthana herself? Debu was confused. The many events that transpired in the last twenty-four hours had left him shattered. How much had he drunk yesterday? It felt as if all the strength had drained from his body. Urmila barging in when he was with a girl from Mangalore, her cruel words, Prarthana overhearing all of it, him suddenly feeling insignificant in front of both of them, and then Prarthana returning at midnight with injuries on her body, explaining the words of his fleeting desire Sujoy Malhotra – it all began to make him feel cornered. From the day he started chasing women until now, he had never been this vulnerable. He, who loved a girl like him, after all, a boy like Sujoy Malhotra, on the road to Harihara...

If she could take her body and go with someone in the middle of the night like that—what is the meaning of the word 'love'? What is the meaning of freedom? What is the meaning of Prarthana's honesty, her devotion, her faith, her goodness? If she was truly good and honest, why did she leave Himavant, who loved her so deeply, and come to me? And after coming to me, why did she as easily go with Sujay in the middle of the night on the dark road of Harihar? Prarthana is not honest! She also has different faces, and innocence is just one of them, which can change at any time. I boasted that I won this innocent girl, that I snatched her from Himavant and triumphed. I thought I won a girl like her. But the one who got ruined was me! I got defeated in front of an ordinary guy like Sujay. Prarthana might give excuses for this: 'Because you wandered on the Harihar road with Urmi, I also sat on your roommate Sujay's bike, hugging him. Let's end it there. My true love is only for you, Debu Babu. Forget what happened.' But does the mind forget? A man might be a great adulterer, he might bring an adulterous woman to satisfy his afternoon lust, but as long as they are together, he expects even that adulterous woman to look nowhere else and be loyal to him alone. In such a case, can I ever forget the brown wounds on Prarthana's body? After all that, will I be able to marry her and be happy? What has Prarthana done! She has shattered the most delicate dream of my life. He sat staring at the wall with empty eyes. "Get up, Huzoor. Go take a bath quickly. You didn't even eat dinner last night. Your stomach must be burning. Let's go out, just the two of us, eat something, and spend an excellent afternoon together. Today I will sing all the songs I kept for you... Only for you," Prarthana pulled him up by his arm. As Debu was bathing, she stood in front of the full-length mirror, combing her tangled hair. She felt the drops flying from her hair falling onto a sheet of paper on the table in front of the mirror. Thinking it might be some important paper that would get wet, she quickly picked it up.

She began to read it as if it were a mantra. Before she could even finish two lines, her emotions changed without her own realization. Prarthana read that letter with her eyes wide open. And without turning the paper over, she quickly scribbled down the address found in the corner onto a small slip of paper. 'Chandranath Bandopadhyay, Number 43, Banjara Hills, Hyderabad' — she could have easily memorized those four lines without writing them down, but she felt she might forget the address after reading the letter, so she hurriedly noted it on a small slip. That night, in her rush, as soon as Urmila fell asleep in the hostel, Prarthana sat up and switched on the table lamp to write two letters that would change the course of her life. The first was written to Chandranath Bandopadhyay; the second—to her father, who had long seemed erased from the canvas of her memory. To Himavant, the boy she loved more than life itself, she never once felt the urge to write such a letter. She stood just a few steps away from the throne of her aspirations.

"Respectful greetings to Father. You may not be aware that I am studying MBBS at Davangere Medical College. Since I left home, the direction of my life has changed. Until today, I had never felt the need to share the details of all that with you. However, I have decided to marry my senior colleague, Debashish Bandopadhyay. His father is coming to speak with me from Hyderabad this Sunday. In this situation, if you were with me, it would be a great help; you, the father who gave me life. I conclude this letter with the belief that you will come. Prarthana."

She finished the second letter, noting the address. Having already sealed the first letter with the hostel's return address after writing the Hyderabad address on the envelope, the lines she had read at Debashish’s house began to echo in her mind. It was a letter written by a father to his only beloved son: "Dear Sunny; you are the center point that gives our life both joy and anxiety. When we think of you, your speech, your appearance, the marks you earn, the speed with which you win—it makes us feel there are no parents as fortunate as we are. However, the rumors and details that reach us about you leave us deeply unsettled."

Who is this girl named Prarthana? Where is she from? You probably haven't asked what her caste is, and we do not ask for 'details' about money or wealth. need that, but what kind of a girl is she? Like other friendships that have been drifting along for a long time, this one does not feel temporary. It seems as though Debu is going to marry this girl, as Uncle Shivarajayya has written in his letter. If all of this is true, there is no one happier than us. But Debu, we are worried about what kind of person your 'girl' is. Apart from you, we have absolutely no one else in this world. Because we know your nature, we are asking this: write to us and share your opinion about Prarthana. If there is a shortage of time, or if you have no objection to talking, tell us to speak over the telephone. Or, if you want me to come to Davanagere myself, I will come immediately. Debu, you are not a child. You are a grown man. Grown children become like friends. As a friend, I am asking you…

By the time Debu finished his bath and returned, Prarthana had read the letter from 'Dad' so intensely that every letter was etched in her memory. From the moment she read it, her heart began to overflow with a new enthusiasm, a new hope, and a new joy. For a girl from a poor family in a tiny village called Bilisaale, near Channarayapatna, to become the daughter-in-law of Chandranath Bidish Bandyopadhyay, the ruler of India’s pharmaceutical empire—was that just a small thing?

Prarthana’s respects to the elders. Please permit me to write this letter. I, Prarthana, am poor by caste. I am not as intelligent as Debu. But I am decent enough to be liked by you. I love Debu as much as I trust God. I have respect, regard, and love for elders. I am a girl who has grown up in the lap of struggles. Debu has loved me, and because of that, our hearts are this close even today. Restraint governs us. I do not even know if Debu has the intention to marry me yet, but I have already decided to spend my life with him. You must bless us. Debu is not one for words. He is too lazy to write a letter. I am writing this on Saturday with his permission. Please...

Come to Davangere. Decide the direction of our lives together and bring mother along; what else should I call her but 'mother', just like your love? My love waits for you and Debu until the very end. With these prayers, Prarthana thought over the letter a dozen times, placed a photograph of herself inside, and sealed the envelope. Just then, for some reason, she was reminded of Himavant. It felt as though Urmi Didi, sleeping on the cot in front of her, had turned over in impatience. Is this a sin? betrayal of God? Prarthana asked herself; she did not have the patience to seek an answer. She could not fall asleep after tucking the letters into their envelopes. Everything that had happened at Debu's house kept playing over and over in her mind. Truth be told, similar incidents had occurred in that house even before; while they seemed sweet at first, they eventually became tiresome. She often felt that if only she could escape Debu’s embrace, it would be enough. But what happened yesterday was not that. It was the complete opposite! Having just come out of the bathroom wearing only a lungi, Debu was glistening like a statue; his eyes were swollen and turned a fiery red from the night's drinking. He seemed to have lost his usual charm. However, the letter from his father that he had just read, and the mention of her within its lines, had brought such happiness to Prarthana that she had fallen into his arms as he stood there smelling fresh from his bath. If given even the slightest chance, Debu would hunger and yearn; he would fill the car with the resonance of desire in the desolate darkness of the Harihara road. More than love, a sense of urgency roamed within him; he would plead with his eyes alone, his fingers would begin to strum like a Rudraveena. She loved all of that too; such is the sweetness of romance before marriage. But it is beautiful only if it stops there, isn't it? It wouldn't stop. Whenever they were left alone at home, Debu would become like a demon. Many times, arguments would erupt precisely because of this. All this beauty, the warmth of the body, the grace; all its darkness is yours, my lord, but let there be restraint until the hour of our marriage, Prarthana would say. Debu would flare up and become annoyed. Many times, she had left him in that state and walked away. But today, she herself had been prepared. If the scandal involving the Mangalore girl had not occurred the previous day, the bud would have blossomed by the break of dawn.

She leaned into his embrace, guiding him gently toward the cot. The warmth of her chest pressing against him was an experience that felt both heavy and exhilarating for Prarthana. Debu felt comforted, and his breathing grew shallow and rapid. The moment of culmination was near. While Prarthana trembled with a surge of excitement, Debu turned rigid. He was staring fixedly at the brown bruise that had suddenly appeared on her full arm. He kept asking himself: "Tell me the truth... what happened there?" Prarthana was in tears.

"Urmi Didi, please look after me with love. Bless me so that everything goes well for me when you send me off. Tomorrow, my life will find its direction. Debu’s parents are coming; they are coming specifically to see me. The day after, my own father is also coming from Channarayapatna. Please don't be angry, Didi. I know you don't approve of this decision of mine, but what can I do? I cannot bear to be separated from Debu. I don't know why, but my inner self keeps telling me that everything will turn out well. Forgive me this one time, Urmila! Who else do I have in this world but you? Himu knows nothing of all this. I am anxious about how he will react once he finds out. He isn't exactly emotional, and that is my fear. Emotional people cry, laugh, curse, get angry, and eventually quiet down. But Urmila Didi, Himu is very introverted. I keep worrying about what he might do to himself. I get scared deep inside, but then I console myself and move on. What if I walk a different path? He will suffer for four days, and then his dreams will sprout elsewhere; he will find someone else. Himu is better than me—he is a man like a god. God will not be sad. angry.

"Is it true, Urmila Didi? You might be thinking, 'Is this the extent of your devotion?' wondering how much you truly love Debu. Before we even got intimate, Debu had become so dear to me that I felt like I would die without him. I deeply attached to him. There was a rare kind of friendship between the two of you; even if you felt angry at his generosity, you always forgave a good friend..."

"Urmila akka, before that, you must forgive me. I know I am the biggest sinner of all. But youngest, younger than you, younger than Debu, younger than God himself. Can’t you forgive me? I will be indebted to you for the rest of my life. There is no one else who can drape a saree as neatly on me as you do. Tomorrow, the groom’s family is coming to see me; if you were here, mother wouldn’t have to struggle alone, would she? In the morning, bring me a flower or a kiss, and send me home. Once I return, I will drown you in kisses, Debu."

Prarthana wrote this letter in her lovely handwriting, placed it in an envelope, and without sealing it, left it prominently on Urmila’s bed pillow. Then, as if remembering something, she wrote 'Prarthane' on the envelope. Having just seen Urmila reading very seriously in the library, she concluded that it might be quite late before she returned; so, Prarthana turned off all the lights in the room and lay down.

Sleep did not come immediately. Why did he ask that question, when he should have been responding to the invitation of pleasure? Why did the question of what Sujay might have done on the Harihar road haunt Debu, especially in such intense, final moments? Did Debu babu suddenly doubt her? Does he really think that something improper happened between her and Sujay? Impossible. Debu is not that kind of man. A man with such an open mind, who would sit for hours and talk about his hundreds of trivial details, could never harbor such petty suspicions. Perhaps he would never ask such a question again. If he were to start asking, couldn't she ask as well? Kaveramma's house; the Muslim girlfriend from his third year; that girl Hemalatha from the senior batch; and finally, Urmila didi! Did he have just one or two? Such things are known to all; in a man's life, there may be hundreds of such instances. A wife must ignore all of them. How you were until yesterday, or why you were that way—I don't need to know. From today, you are mine, only mine. And as for me, you know that I was with Himavant for months; if one starts digging, there is a history to that as well. But what is the use of digging? They are things that died long ago; digging them up only makes the stench unbearable. Forget all that. From tomorrow, a new life must branch out, Mitra. She decided to explain this to him. Her mind turned to Debu's parents.

She was reveling in the feeling of being cherished. Would she be liked by both of them? And if, by chance, they did not like her? Would she defy them and still marry Debu? But how could she know until they met? Wasn't father coming from Channarayapatna only after the first round of talks? That man would agree to this marriage; there was no question of him not agreeing. She no longer held any respect for him, yet his presence was necessary for the talks—at least for the sake of formality. If only Himavant were here at such a celebratory moment! Before she could finish the thought, Prarthana fell asleep. However, the one who tossed and turned all night without a wink of sleep was Urmila. Suddenly sitting bolt upright in the middle of the night, she felt like heading straight to Shivamogga. Realizing this was no time to leave, she recited a prayer in her mind and calmed down. Her heart would sometimes soften towards Prarthana. As she herself had said, she was the youngest of them all; let things happen as she wished. Who knew? Perhaps Debu would change. A person who has reached the extreme of decadence can suddenly discard all that indulgence and become a gentleman. Why talk of others? Look at me, for instance. Today, the very thought of a cigarette feels repulsive; the mere mention of whiskey is sickening. Debu, too, might change. Both their lives could become beautiful. But what of Himavant’s fate?

An indistinct image of Himavant began to drift across the canvas of Urmila’s mind—Himavant, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the open fields of Gadikoppa, sketching a lovely blueprint of a hospital. In his imagination, he wondered: at which portico’s shade would Prarthana’s car be parked if she arrived suddenly? And through which door could he enter to reach the pregnant woman crying out in the throes of labor most quickly? At which corner of the hospital terrace could she curl up and sing to her heart’s content when she was overjoyed? Where would the visitors meet and talk to her instead of the patients? So many dreams he built. What if she is young? Can she betray such a Himavant? Even if she does and gets away with it, will she ever be happy? One may not believe in curses, but the sigh of a love betrayed will never let anyone live in peace. Whatever else may be, once a girl comes of age, a shadow or two from an unexpected stranger is bound to drift through her life. Does she need an example better than herself? After returning from Kodagu, she had felt that life without him was no life at all. And then… he had drifted away, and Debu had arrived.

It was impossible to tell when he had come or left. A girl's heart can shatter like a fresh slate at any moment. Prarthana too would forget Debu within a couple of days. Is it even possible to live a happy life after marrying such a man? Or will life even be possible at all? But under no circumstances should Himavant be betrayed. "I will make sure no betrayal happens," she said firmly to herself and sat up. Somewhere in the distance, the first bell of the fourth watch of the night was heard. Rising hurriedly, she read Prarthana's letter one more time. She switched on the geyser. Reciting the morning shlokas in a soft voice, she gently shook Prarthana, who was in a deep slumber, and woke her up. Pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead, she whispered "Good morning" in a loving voice. Then, pouring two drops of oil from a small bottle onto her palm, she massaged it into Prarthana’s hair. For the first time in many years, it felt to Prarthana as if she were sitting bowed before her mother, getting her hair oiled and washed in the bathroom. "I will be born as your daughter in my next life, and I will be even naughtier than I am now," she said. As Prarthana stepped out from under the shower after her bath, Urmila noticed something. "What is this, Prarthana? What are these brown bruises? Has it already gone this far? You had it with Debu…?" Though Urmila felt her voice becoming harder than necessary, she couldn't control herself and asked anyway. There was an unexpected intensity in her eyes; the very thought that Prarthana had already lost everything she called her own to Debu had left Urmila shaken. But as she stared at the faded brown bruises on her arm, the tone in which she had asked the question began to feel wrong even to her. Just as she was about to ask again, Prarthana reacted in a strange manner that was far beyond Urmila’s imagination. "Urmila Didi, that is entirely my personal business. Mind you, it is true that I respect you a lot—not just today, but always. I, too, desire that every morning of my life should be graced by your good wishes. Never ask such a question ever again. And yet, since you have asked, and since you asked it so bluntly, I am telling you—even if it is a matter of self-respect, today you have..."

Listen, these are not marks made by Debu, it was somebody else. His name might even be Sujay Malhotra. I think this explanation is enough for you. Give me my bag," she said, and without even waiting for Urmila's reaction, Prarthana walked out of the bathroom. Urmila had already decided: she would not let Himavant be betrayed! That morning, Urmila had begun the first and greatest battle of her life.

"What am I supposed to do? You have decided that you won't leave Shivamogga for months; you have made up your mind not to even look towards Davanagere. For how long go without seeing you? I missed you so much in the early hours of the morning that I just got on a bus and came here," Urmila said, standing in front of his stone-walled room in Gaadikoppa, observing the surprise in Himavant's eyes. Even though there was fatigue in the eyes of the girl who had traveled from Davanagere, the joy of seeing Himavant was flowing in them like a flood. As the thought flashed through his mind—*has this girl started to love me?*—Himavant felt shocked for a moment. It should never be like that. Just as it feels unbearable to love someone who doesn't like us, it becomes equally difficult to endure it when someone we don't like loves us. Is it possible to share love with another soul in this life besides Prarthana? In my world, there are only two images: Prarthana and Doctor Prarthana. Even a third shadow is forbidden there. In Urmila's eyes, there might be excitement and joy, or perhaps it is just friendship. Why am I seeing it as something else? Should I misunderstand her innocent excitement? Even if Urmila feels this way, I should tell her the truth this time, he thought. But Urmila was lost in a different kind of excitement. The open field of Gaadikoppa, which she had seen months ago, had changed beyond recognition; foundations had sprouted even in the wild bushes. Everything in the middle of the field had changed. Two tall granite stone pillars had been buried; between them, a small arch had been constructed. A brass bell had been hung at a height that was within reach; mango leaves had been tied to both pillars.

"Tell me, what is the reason?" Himavant crossed the pillars. The foundation had been laid. The second floor was just rising. Like a Ganesh idol that had just been worshipped, there were signs of a temple standing on this high mound. Prarthana stood there, stunned. "What is this? It has stopped. Shouldn't there be a hospital here?" she asked, surprised. "According to the plan, a temple should be built at the foundation of every hospital. Whether God exists in such hospitals is something I don't know. But where a human exists, humanity resides. Prarthana Hospital did not rise here, but a sanctum sanctorum for a hospital is what stands on this mound. Someone told me that in the foothills of the Himalayas, they make Ganesh idols like this. I have decided to build a hospital for that Ganesh, to serve humanity within it," Himavant said, stopping the car. "First, let's go to the portico in the middle of the hospital to see the patients, and then we shall offer our salutations to Ganesh."

"Such eccentricities are always there; forget that, Dr. Prarthana. Whatever I do, it with great dedication for the sake of Prarthana. Let all that be; how is Prarthana? Is she studying well? Is she keeping well? Does she still get those stomach aches?" Himavant kept asking one question after another with unmatched affection. Urmila could not continue her speech; she began to sob. "You are very good, Himu... why do you come looking for me like this? If there is anything good, it must be in your mind or your personality. the personality of the girl named Prarthana. If not, why would we talk about her more than ourselves? The number of people in this world who are as pure as nectar is very small, Urmila. Come, shall I give you a glass of milk?" Saying this, Himavant led her towards his stone house.

Inside, more surprises awaited Urmila. From the outside, it looked like it always did, but the stone house was adorned and expanded from within, waiting for his light. Large windows with big wooden frames; deep black doors that looked as if they hadn't been carved for decades; preparations for laying carpets on the floor; and a separate inner room.

As soon as Prarthana came home from her hospital, she closed the door behind her. There was a small, neat sink; a glistening soap beside a tap to wash hands; a tiny artificial waterfall in the room; and two musical instruments lying there, as if waiting to be played. Then, another bed nearby. The beds were joined together. "Whose is the third bed? For a baby?" Urmila asked with a laugh. "No, that’s also for Prarthana. Sometimes when she comes back after a night shift, she feels like just collapsing and sleeping, doesn't she? So, I made this arrangement so I wouldn't disturb her when I come in!" Himavant said. For the second time that day, Urmila’s eyes brimmed with tears. Attached to the bedroom was a room specifically designed for Prarthana; shelves were built from the floor all the way to the ceiling just to store her books. The lighting was arranged so that her eyes wouldn't strain no matter where she sat to read. There was an easy chair to lean back on if she grew tired of reading. For now, there was nothing else in the room besides that chair. But, seeing the kitchen, Urmila was truly stunned. What wasn't there? It was as if everything was for Prarthana alone. "Himu, please don't be upset that I'm asking this, but would you have done all this even if Prarthana wasn't in your life?" Urmila finally asked. Himavant, who was heating milk on the stove, turned to look at her for a moment. Seeing the silence in his eyes, Urmila felt that perhaps she shouldn't have asked such a question. But by then, Himavant had already begun to speak. "If I had never met a girl named Prarthana, you would never have seen the Himavant standing before you today, Urmila. Who tells a roaring ocean that today is a full moon? On all other days, the ocean remains within itself, so why does it fall into such a frenzy when the full moon arrives? It’s the same with me. I was just a man wandering the streets of Shivamogga, selling sweets. I never even had the thought of building a home of my own. Look at me today; how many people am I building homes for? If I fell ill, wasn't there a hospital in Shivamogga for me to lie down in? There were plenty. But I set out to build a hospital for those who fall ill—that is the power of love, Urmila; it turns a human into a god. From the moment I wake up in the morning until the very moment I drift into sleep at night, whatever I do, it only for Prarthana. If I plant a sapling, it is because, many years from now..."

Prarthana sits under this tree and hums in a soft voice; that is why I water it. A person in love is incredibly selfish. As Urmila's selfishness grows, love only deepens; and that is not just the selfishness of wanting to possess her. It is not sleeping with her, but rather, when eating a morsel of food mixed with a little curd, the thought of her makes it feel so delicious. Many years ago, in Birur, I felt as if Prarthana’s thumb had been split in the same way some girl had tripped, broken her big toe, and cried with a stinging pain in her eyes. And behind that, how much further is Davangere? At most, two and a half years. Prarthana will surely come. To how many thousands of such girls will she stand as a sister? Thinking of that, I swell with pride, feeling like an ocean caught in the pull of a full moon. Urmila, if she were not there, could I have done any of this? If I think of a day without her, then for me, the sun does not rise; dreams do not take birth. You know, a person who cannot conceive a dream cannot achieve anything. In Himavant’s voice, there was an honesty that only gods possess. Although Urmila wanted to ask the question, "If, by any chance, we lose Prarthana... what will you do, Himavant?" she did not have the courage. But, as if to make Urmila shudder, Himavant himself began to speak of that very matter. For some reason, his lips trembled, his eyes turned to stone. A whirlwind seemed to rise from within him, beginning to envelop him. "I love her so much, Urmila. Have I ever thought about what might happen if she becomes unreachable to me, if Prarthana slips out of my hands? For some reason, I am terrified, Urmila. Not about her—it is the fear itself that terrifies me. Because I know very well: the day she leaves my life, the foundations of every house I have built in the fields of Gadikoppa will crumble. The water in the wells I have dug will dry up. Every sapling I have planted will wither from the roots up. The milk of the cow in my backyard will turn to poison. You do not know, Urmila, but total destruction falls like rain pouring from the sky." Saying this, he stopped. For a long time, both of them did not speak. Then, taking Urmila along, he showed her, with great excitement, a small garden he had built right next to the hospital, where none of the saplings were ones he had [planted] before.

It seemed like things he had never seen before, gathered from all over his wanderings; he had brought and planted all sorts of medicinal herbs: perhaps they might come in handy for Prarthana someday. In the shed next to the garden stood a gentle cow. It had calved just fifteen days ago. A fluffy white calf with black eyes and soft lips, overflowing with love, began to jump the moment it saw Himavant. Urmila went over quickly and hugged it like a flower. She felt they could give it a beautiful name. "Its name is Prarthana," Himavant, who was standing behind her, spoke just as her thought was blooming. Urmila fell silent. The very thing she had come to Shivamogga to tell Himavant—she could not muster the courage to speak about it. Let Himavant not know about all that; at least, not right now. Why break a dream that is destined to shatter today? Nothing would turn out as terrifyingly as Himavant thought. He would be wounded, true; but just as all wounds in the world heal, the wound in his heart would also gradually heal. He would begin life again from somewhere else. No matter who goes astray, deceives, she would at least remain to fulfill the contract of friendship with a friend like Himavant. Does she have the power to stop the clouds of total destruction from opening their mouths? She did not know; Himavant would grant that too. She had to learn that from him alone. These houses in Gadikoppa, this deity on the mound, the hospital surrounding the deity, the saplings in the garden, the tree in front of the house, the calf jumping in the backyard—everything must be preserved just like this. Even after Prarthana's departure, she must ensure that Himavant’s life does not scatter. Does she have that power? Urmila asked herself again. The answer stood before her: love possesses all power. Then, is it true that she loves Himavant? She asked herself. It felt like the answer could not be found for the time being. Before leaving for Shivamogga, for some reason, Urmila touched her forehead to Himavant’s feet in reverence, but Himavant’s legs had gone numb. He did not say a word. After seeing her off and seating her on the bus to Channarayapatna, he said, "This time you didn't tell me anything about Prarthana. Don't do that next time. Come prepared to talk only about her; wait for a couple of months."

"I cannot step out of Gaadikoppa," he had said; "Has Prarthana really left?" Urmila shook her head. The bus departed. Urmila’s mind remained fixed in the innocent, pitch-black eyes of a calf named Prarthana, which was leaping in the backyard of the house. Hadn't those same eyes of Prarthana held that same innocence just two years ago? She wondered. Looking out the window, she saw rows of houses on the outskirts of Shivamogga.

Debu walked up with indifference, inserted the key into the interlock of the front door, and opened the lock with a click. Seeing the scene inside, he was stunned. The house was the exact opposite of his state of mind. Prarthana’s patience, love, devotion, and agility were reflected in every orderly corner of the house. Everything was spotless. It was only that day that he noticed there was a prayer room in the house. In the last two years, all the books he had read and discarded were neatly stacked there. There was no clutter. small photograph of Ishwara. Ishwara with half-closed eyes on the snowy mountain, the Ganga gushing from his matted hair, his skin a shade of blue, and the serpent with its hood raised—the eyes of the serpent looked alert. Come to think of it, shouldn’t Himavant be Ishwara? For just a moment, the question slithered by like a serpent's hood. It must be. Himavant must be Ishwara. That is why she had brought and placed the photo of Ishwara. For her, Himu is God, and he is exactly where he should be. But where is his own place? Was Sujay Malhotra in the place have been that night? God knows. Prarthana is not opening her mouth. Every time he sits or stands, the same confusion lingers. Was he truly there? Enough to bruise her entire body? He had met him at the college in the morning. He spoke as usual. He felt the urge to slap his face, grab his shirt, drag him like a leopard into the corner of the corridor, press him against the stone wall, and ask, "Tell me, what happened that day?" But he could not ask. What if, instead of answering, Sujay Malhotra just laughed, pulled his shirt from his grasp, straightened the wrinkles, wiped the blood from the corner of his lips, and walked away in silence? And if even he chose not to say what happened on the Harihara road, then what would be his own fate? That, above all else.

He did not want to say 'hello' to Sujay who was coming from the opposite direction, nor did he want to sit in the cinema hall just to pass the time; he had reached a point where he felt he needed nothing at all. He sat on the stone platform and smoked a cigarette. The thought of being here was becoming tiresome; his mind was unwilling to accept it, as if his very entrails were being wrung out. A junior girl came by on a Kinetic; she stopped the vehicle in the shade of a tree, adjusted the scarf that was wrapped tightly around her neck, and asked mockingly, "Why so looking melancholy? Couldn't find any girlfriends? Feeling lonely? If your Mercedes car is boring you, tell me; I’ll take you around the town on my Kinetic. Your mood will brighten up, what do you say?" Deb knew her; name was Susan Rodrigues, an Anglo-Indian girl with blue, eyes. She had been with him for ten days last year. Throughout those days, he had behaved in a way that gave him a strange sense of satisfaction—that he was deceiving this blue-eyed girl so elegantly and easily, without her ever understanding it. On the eleventh day, he had brought her back to Davanagere and said, "Enough, Susan. Enough is enough. My life is more important to me than all this. There are only two months left for the exams; I need to sit and study. You won't find me from tomorrow. Let's not meet." When he said that, she had wept as if the valves of her heart were breaking. But that was only for that day. The next day, she was with another boy. Deb thought she was just going around with someone else to vent her hatred and frustration towards him. Within two months, the two of them had left their respective hostels and started living in a separate house. "To hell with you," he thought to himself and crushed the cigarette under his boot. You girls are all the same. Today, you weep so loudly that you might as well die, and by evening, you are filled with such cruelty that you kill us with your laughter. Standing next to another man, for the mistake of ten days of love, you demand the tax of an entire lifetime. I should leave everyone and go somewhere. Prarthana, Urmila—they shouldn't be there. Not even Susan—a place where no one is around. Even Kaveri’s house is a closed chapter now; the lust of the lower belly is dead. Enough, of wandering among women, enough of being drowned in the 'stuff'. It should end. I should go somewhere, be all alone, and unburden my heavy heart to someone. Who are these people? Prarthana, Urmila, Susan, the girls from Kaveri’s house.

Who were they all to him, anyway? He, his intellect, that richness—they were all a world apart. None of them were his equals. If some Prarthana were to spend half the night on the Harihara road with some Sujay Malhotra, with her body marked and bruised—why should he be so troubled? This was not love, nor friendship, nor loyalty, nor even sorrow; it was merely a knot of suspicion. She had no loyalty whatsoever. The same woman who had bowed her forehead to Himavant’s feet and prayed to him, taught him the lessons of restraint to curb his desires and longings, was the one who had now returned with her body marked on the Harihara road! He felt she wasn't even worth his grief. Yet, the moment he felt like detaching himself from here and leaving for somewhere else, why did the memory of that Himavant from Shivamogga—leaving everyone else behind—suddenly surface in his inner mind? The very man was a comfort. Perhaps, for the first time since his father, he was able to love a man this much. If he left Davangere now, his car would find its way to Shivamogga on its own. When he first saw him, he had seemed like such a dull, insipid man. Seeing Prarthana’s forehead touch his feet, he had marveled at how such men were worthy of such devotional love. Gradually, a jealousy had grown toward Himavant. But that day, when he had chased him down in his car? He had felt as though he had achieved a victory over that man. He had labored under the illusion that he was a god, hadn't he? that he had broken that illusion and reduced him to a mere mortal. He had convinced himself powerful enough to snatch a girl like Prarthana from the embrace of such a god-like man. But today, he did not feel that way. He was right. He was truly a god. Perhaps that is why Himavant remains a devotee to his god, while his Prarthana here is gradually becoming a discordant note. In his embrace, she is melting away like a moth caught in a spider’s web. The moment to end this is not far off. And yet, Himavant lives in peace in Shivamogga; he is ruled only by faith. Loyalty sustains him, and his love elevates him. But what about him? Prarthana, whom he snatched from Himavant, is now in his own arms. She is ready for everything now, but the hearth inside his own breast has gone cold. There is no desire left for the body of the woman who returned from the Harihara road; wherever he touches her, it feels like...

It feels as if it has already been touched. Even when I touched the "deplorable" women in Kaveramma’s house from the depths of my navel, I never felt like this. I was not in love with any of them. Then, why am I feeling this way for Prarthana? Am I in love? Am I really her? If so, do I love her as much as I love Himavant? I should just ask him. What is love, Himu? What does it mean to love them? After all the betrayals and the resulting pain, if we still remain, do we become gods like you, Himu? I want to live as a human for them, and yet, become a god like you, who has endured all the deceits just as I have. Show me the way, Mitra. Even if I cannot talk about all this directly, I must go and visit Himavant, I thought. This thought struck me with such intensity that I began packing a few clothes, a towel, and a brush into a small bag. Just as I decided to leave, I came home and parked the Mercedes, only to be left stunned upon seeing the state of the house—Prarthana had cleaned everything, including Ishwara’s photograph and its surroundings, and she looked like a woman who had just finished her bath. As I wondered through what magic she had managed to do all this, I remembered that neither Prarthana nor Urmila had been at college that morning, but Sujay had been there. When nothing seemed to add up, just as I was about to light a fresh cigarette, I heard a voice clearly. I rushed to the front door, and it coincided exactly with my father, mother, and Prarthana stepping over the threshold. "What is it, you lazy sloth? Should the daughter-in-law have come to fetch us from the train? Couldn't you have at least brought the car to the railway station? How are you, wretch?" my father grumbled, placing the briefcase he was carrying onto the cane chair on the veranda and pulling Debu into a tight embrace with both arms. Saying "Amma," I slipped out of my father's embrace, hugged my mother like a bear, and kissed her cheek. The gloom, the unbearable weariness, the disgust, and the uncertainty that had been weighing on me since the morning vanished in an instant, and a sense of affection blossomed instead. Immediately after stepping off the train, Chandrakant Bandopadhyay had keenly observed the young woman in the pale pink saree waiting for them, noticing through his spectacles the innocent poverty that, unknown to her, had fashioned her into a hidden gem of refinement.

She had walked up in a manner so innocent that it seemed as if she were unaware of the significance of what she was doing, standing there waiting for them at the station. Chandrakant Babu told himself, "The girl is lovely." Prarthana, however, felt no confusion. The moment she saw the tall, slender figure in white pajama-jubba and the deep-red silk saree, with skin as fair as milk, descending from the first-class compartment, she felt, "This must be why he is so beautiful." She ran up to touch their feet in reverence and took the suitcases from their hands. "You are as beautiful as your name... Prarthana," Debu’s mother had said. It felt as if a Veena from some distant era had taken the form of a woman and was speaking to her as Debu’s mother. She walked toward the station exit, looking at Prarthana’s long braid with deep affection. "If you had looked yourselves, perhaps you would have found a better daughter-in-law than me, but I am the one who found Debu. Meeting such wonderful parents convinced me why Debu is the way he is. Even though he knows you are coming, he doesn’t know for certain that you are arriving today; I didn't tell him because I wanted it to be a surprise. He must have woken up and gone to college by now; I bunked my classes and ran here to receive you. Even if my own parents had come today, I wouldn't have been this happy. I pray to God to keep this joy with me as long as I live. My God will not disappoint me, because my name is Prarthana." As they walked toward the taxi, Prarthana said in a soft voice, "Do you sing, daughter?" Debu’s father had asked. The answer to that came at night. She had prepared the meal with great devotion; there was a cozy moonlight on the terrace of the house. Spreading a mat, the four of them sat down to eat. As Debu’s mother folded a betel leaf and handed it to her husband, Chandrakant Babu lit his cigar and began to exhale small clouds of smoke. Lying down on the mat, with his head on his mother’s lap, Debu was picking out the stalks of the betel leaves that she had spread out, eating them like a little child. Sitting in the lotus position, Prarthana sang in a voice so tender that even the moonlight seemed to grow damp, drenched in joy: "Ghar Aaja Ghir Aaye."

The joy on the faces of Debu’s parents was unmistakable. They were immersed in praising her; the taste of the meal Prarthana had prepared was still lingering on their tongues. The cleanliness of the house, her soft-spoken words, the reflection of her upbringing in every gesture—the couple had clearly reached the decision that Debu had not made a mistake in choosing this girl. He was like a child playing in the celestial path. After the meal, Prarthana came down and went into the inner room. After laying out the beds for Debu’s parents in the hall and for Debu outside, she sprinkled a little water to settle the dust, served them water to drink, and said, "I will head to the hostel now." No matter how much they insisted, she refused to stay the night. Even when Debu offered to drop her off at the hostel, she stopped him. "It has been months since the three of you met, sit and talk comfortably. I have some studying to do tonight. Dad is coming in the morning, and I will be here by breakfast time. How far is the hostel from here? There are streetlights all along the way; in front of the iron gate in five minutes. Since I already told them I would be late, the watchman will be waiting at the door." Saying this, she smiled at the elderly couple once more and left.

"How did you manage to cook all that? There wasn't even a proper vessel in the house!" Debu asked in a whisper as he walked her to the house gate.

"Debu Babu, poor girls know the art of creating a meal out of nothing. More than that, love makes everything possible. By the way, I had to tell you one thing: your mom and dad are much nicer than you!" Saying this, Prarthana walked briskly toward the hostel.

By the time Debu recovered from her remark, some time had passed. As Prarthana walked out of Debu’s house, two sharp eyes began to watch her. Like a python that has tasted blood circling a dove's nest again and again, those eyes followed Prarthana’s trail. Prarthana knocked on the latch of the iron gate and stood waiting for the old hostel watchman to come. The sharp eyes moved closer. "Prarthana, I have been waiting for you since evening. Love you."

"Prarthana..." He spoke in a voice that sounded coarse, and placed his hand on Prarthana’s back. "Dog!" Prarthana turned around suddenly, startled, her voice tinged with disgust. Just then, the watchman arrived and opened the gate. The sharp-eyed figure quickly moved into the darkness on the side of the road. That figure’s name was Sujay. Urmila, sitting at the room's window, had recognized him from that distance.

She watched Prarthana as she stepped into the room with expressionless eyes. Although Urmila was aware that Sujay had come and tried to stop and talk to her near the compound, and that Prarthana had promptly resisted him, she was surprised to see how Prarthana, who had rushed from the gate to the room in a state of agitation, suddenly relaxed the moment she stepped inside. Urmila had expected Prarthana to tell her something about Sujay saw her face, but that did not happen. "What a great day! Where had you gone since morning, Didi? Debu's parents have come. My father is coming tomorrow. I am excited," she said, leaning her back against Urmila's bed and resting her head on her lap. Prarthana's eyes were shining; there was a flood of happiness. Life was taking a turn faster than she had expected, which is why she was celebrating.

Back there, Himavant was waiting for that much-anticipated moment after five years of waiting, with the patience of a sage deep in meditation. Nothing that is formed in such a hurry and at such speed lasts for a lifetime. Life is not built overnight. It requires years of penance, patience, and faith. It has to be built brick by brick. Himavant knows this. The moment he is waiting for may not arrive even after five years, but the palace of hope he has built will not collapse all at once. Every brick of it stands on solid foundation. Himavant knows this, which is why he is waiting with such endurance. After reading the letter written by Prarthana, let alone doubting her, he had not even visited Davanagere for fear that his presence might disturb her studies.

Prarthana does not yet understand the extent of his sacrifice, nor does she realize how his life has blossomed like a flower overnight. She is lost in her own excitement. Thinking this, Urmila caressed Prarthana’s cheek. For some reason, Urmila felt that way; perhaps because of the situation. "There is nothing I can do about this. Everything must be left to the decision of time. How time changes our lives, isn't it, Didi? Previously, when you both were talking in the car, I would sit quietly in the back seat. Now, Debu is sitting in the front, and the steering wheel is in his hands. You are standing behind me, blessing me. Aren't you, Didi? By this time tomorrow, the engagement will be over. If Debu agrees, I will vacate the hostel and move into his house. The date we went to his parents' place is drawing near. If I am with Debu, he will guide me very well. He is a brilliant fellow, of course. After shifting to that house, I will miss you a lot, Didi. I don't know a good person or not, but I am certainly not a bad one. I might have made mistakes without knowing. You will forgive me, won't you, Didi? You must be with me tomorrow. Don't get angry with Debu and push me away." As she spoke in an excited tone while lying on Prarthana's lap, Urmila felt like asking her, "Don't you remember Himavant even once?" But she didn't ask, because she realized she was remembering Himavant more often than Prarthana was. He probably didn't even know about this matter. In the house behind the Gundi Chowltry in Davanagere, with Prarthana, Debu, and both their parents all gathered together, they were writing and signing a tragic fate for Himavant. Unbeknownst to him, she was the only one left here to shed tears on his behalf! Swallowing the exclamation, "So sorry, Himu," Urmila fell silent. Urmila stood in amazement, watching the way Prarthana behaved the next day, the changes in her demeanor, and their engagement, which proceeded as if nothing could stop it. By the time the day dawned, Prarthana was already dressed in a brand-new peacock-colored silk saree, with her hair braided loosely, and on her forehead...

The large *kumkum* on her forehead seemed to be competing with her smile. As soon as the hostel warden told her that someone had come to meet her, she said to herself, "It must be Himavant," and rushed out of the room. It was him, indeed. She stood under the neem tree in the premises and spoke briefly with her father. The excitement of seeing her father after such a long time, the restlessness of having taken so many decisions without his knowledge, the eagerness to inquire about her mother, her elder brother, and especially her sister-in-law—none of that surfaced. Remaining completely detached, she spoke only four words and returned to her room. She had given him some money and instructed him to buy a new shirt and come to the Gundi Chatra by ten o'clock. She had already purchased a light yellow shirt and a dark blue pant for Debu from Shivamogga, even though he wasn't there. Was her behavior throughout the day the practicality of a very clever woman, or the last-minute cruelty of a heartless girl? Urmila could not decide.

After the engagement ceremony, as she was returning to the hostel after bidding farewell to everyone, the watchman at the reception handed Prarthana a packet. Inside it was the coconut candy that Prarthana loved the most. Written in bold letters on the packet was: "I had come to Davanagere; I am returning just like that. I will not disturb you. Exams are near; study well. Your Himavant." As soon as she went to her room, Prarthana collapsed onto her bed and began to wail.

*Barkha bahar aayi, ras ki phuhar layi, ankhon mein pyar layi... sajna.* Outside, it was raining heavily without pause. Standing by the window, Lata was humming a soft song by Mangeshkar. Prarthana’s silhouette, dressed in a nightgown, was visible only in patches. Both her eyes seemed dedicated to the rain. A little...

Standing there slightly bent, for some reason, she reminded him of a sitar that begged to be played. Debu, who had been lying half-reclined on the bed, his desires stirred from within, began to gaze at Prarthana. Who was this girl? Whose garden did this bloom grow in? How did she effortlessly come from nowhere and establish herself here so surely? What his father said about life was true; she wasn't headstrong, but Prarthana knew very well how to implement her decisions. She didn't put on a great act before her parents, but she was different than ever before. There was a clear humility in her speech. As much as she knew they were observing her every action and work, Prarthana continued to impress them. Only his father had melted away while watching Prarthana. He believed that such a virtuous girl was needed to rein in a son who had fallen into his own whims, without him even realizing it! Apparently, he had even told his mother this before the engagement. Whenever she was around, hadn't he called out, "Prarthana, come here!" every hour, made her sit in front of him, and insisted she sing without pause? "Look, daughter, we had everything in our house, except for music. Debu also sings, just like me, but the two of us can't come out of the bathroom until we finish our song. Now that you have arrived, look! If your husband wants to go to hospitals or nursing homes, let him go, but you just sit in our bungalow and sing your favorite ragas. You haven't seen Hyderabad. From a distance, the city looks dirty, just dirty. But I feel as if the ragas that were sung halfway and left unfinished still wander through its minarets, mosques, palaces, and domes. There are Ustaads who sing ghazals wonderfully. Sit with whoever you like and learn. Dakhni Urdu ghazals were born in Hyderabad. Just sit on the sun-drenched balcony of our Banjara Hills bungalow and sing to yourself. You will forget the world exists. Once the habit of listening sets in, that’s it; your Debu will never leave the bungalow again. It has been many years since Lakshmi graced our home, daughter. Now that Saraswati is coming, what more could I want for my happiness? Our wedding is confirmed," Chandranath Bandopadhyay had said. Prarthana had not shown her happiness immediately. That night, while returning to her hostel, she had written a note that was clearly visible to both Debu and his mother, and handed it to Debu's father before she left.

156. Anson was trying to remember something; how many years had it been since that sugar-filled memory? Only Prarthana’s name was written in it. In her handwriting, language, words, songs, silence, laughter, cooking, or behavior—there was no pretense in anything. Just when Mother would feel that perhaps she could have found a prettier daughter-in-law, Prarthana would behave in a way that made one conclude that only a boy as fickle as Debu could be tethered by love alone, and for that task, no one other than Prarthana would be suitable. "You saw her roommate, didn't you? The name Urmila itself sounds good. Intelligence sparkles in her eyes; courage and self-confidence overflow. One look is enough to know she is smarter than Prarthana. Her family background is also quite good," she would say. Apparently, she was the first one to be friends with Debu. But for a boy like Debu, only a girl like Prarthana would do: a girl who would endure everything, no matter how much trouble he caused or how many mistakes he made—that is the only way a family lasts until the end. Someone like Urmila would not be able to live with him. Debu's mother had spoken to her husband on the third night. Both shared the same sentiment regarding one aspect: only Prarthana could endure Debu!

Prarthana was not present when he sat down to talk with her father. It was unbearable to see her father shrinking, sitting with folded hands, and talking pitifully before the wealthy couple. It had been decided beforehand that Father should speak only what was necessary and not discuss any family matters in front of Debu's parents. As for the matter of giving and taking, what did Father have to give? And did he even have the personality required to receive? A father was needed as a formality; he had been called. Let them talk and go. An engagement is a small fence to ensure that Debu, having held hands with her, would never go astray in the future. Along with the three elders, Urmi didi was also enough. When will the marriage actually happen? Debu says to let the course finish. At the very least, if the seal of the engagement is stamped, that is enough. And if it falls in the presence of her father, it is even firmer! Leaving her father to talk with them, Prarthana had found some excuse to take Urmila and step outside. By the time the two returned after about forty-five minutes, Debu’s parents were [handing something] to Father on a silver plate...

Wearing a silk dhoti, carrying fruits, and offering milk and honey in a silver cup, Debu was prepared for the ritual of formalizing the word, according to their family tradition. He had brought a colored shirt and clothes for Debu at his own expense, along with a six-hundred-rupee wristwatch and a thin gold ring that looked like foil. Debu’s father had recited the engagement mantras. When asked when they would wear them, he had sat there shyly, fidgeting, as if afraid that the engagement would break if he spoke. "Both are studying; at the very least, I don't see the wedding happening until he finishes his course. If both of you are prepared by then, we will take care of the expenses on both sides and get you married ourselves," Debu’s father had said voluntarily, easing my father's worries. After finishing the engagement and folding his hands to both sets of in-laws, he had just said "I'll be going" to Prarthana and left. Prarthana herself felt that there was nothing more to be done by him staying there longer. Everyone was wearing new clothes; they went to Chetana Hotel, had a meal, and returned. Saying goodbye to them at night, as Prarthana walked towards the hostel with Urmila, the one thing she couldn't understand was his silence. His name was Shivarajayya! Like a wholesale medicine dealer in Davanagere, he was known to Debu’s father in a business capacity; a family friend. When Debu came to Davanagere and joined medical college, he had been his local guardian; an elder who kept a watchful eye on Debu. After many days of observing Debu hanging out with Prarthana, Uncle Shivarajayya had written a letter to his father. It was only when Chandranath Babu wrote a reply to that letter that it fell into Prarthana's hands, and matters had reached the point of marriage. However, during the engagement, Uncle Shivarajayya had sat without uttering a single word; perhaps that was just his nature. Prarthana had thought she would thank him after the engagement ended. The day Prarthana went looking for Uncle Shivarajayya’s wholesale shop herself. Seeing her at the door, he stood up and, as if to say "Come, girl," he led her to his chamber and sat down opposite her. Shivarajayya... "I came to say thank you to you, Uncle, for helping settle the debt."

"I am a girl from a poor family; it is impossible for me to ever repay your debt. You stood in my father’s place and performed the *sagai* (engagement). It is only because you wrote that letter that this marriage has become firm," she said, touching Uncle Shivarajaiah’s feet in reverence.

"I wrote that letter, dear, only so that you wouldn’t have to suffer what my daughter went through. Where is the question of a debt in this?" Shivarajaiah said.

"What do you mean, 'what she went through'? What happened to your daughter...?" Prarthana asked immediately.

"The world did not let her live, my daughter," he said, his voice choking with emotion.

It felt as if a thunderbolt had struck the very depths of Prarthana’s soul. She had not even imagined that Shivarajaiah’s silence could have such a profound reason behind it. Not knowing what to say to him or how to console him, she sat in silence for a long time. She hoped Uncle Shivarajaiah might say something, but it felt as though the words within him had died long ago. She touched his feet once more, rose, and left. It began to feel as if behind Debu’s face, there was another, more terrifying face.

However, neither of Debu’s parents was ready to accept this as an official engagement. In a town that wasn't their own, with no relatives around—did they think it was over just because four people sat and talked? It might have been years since they left Kolkata, but in Hyderabad, where they had settled, they had a world of their own. They had relatives, Bengali families, and Muslim friends. If they held the engagement of their only son in secret, would people let them be? They would think Chandranath Babu was just trying to save money.

"There is no other way. Officially, according to tradition, another 'Sagaisang' must take place. Come to Bengaluru in the Mercedes, and from there, fly to Hyderabad. The travel agent will bring you the air tickets tomorrow," Debu’s father had commanded before leaving. He hadn't listened even when told that the exams were very close; he had simply said to manage and come over the weekend. He had offered to arrange air tickets for her friends as well, but when they said they couldn't come with exams approaching, he had remained silent.

On Friday evening, with two suitcases in the Mercedes, Debu drove the car toward Hiriyur, listening to songs in silence, not speaking a word.

As the car continued to cross the stretch, Prarthana asked in a voice that sounded quite natural, "Does Shivarajayya uncle have a daughter?" Debu was startled, but he didn't show it. "He had one," he replied briefly. "What do you mean 'had'? Doesn't she exist now?" Prarthana asked. "No; she died. She killed herself." "Committed suicide?" she asked, her voice rising and falling. "Why?" "God knows. Why does everyone commit suicide? They do it when they are bored with life; she must have done the same." Saying this, he stopped. "What was her name?" Prarthana asked persistently. "Some stupid name. Sarvamangala, I think. Let it go. It's a good thing she died. So ugly. Forget it, why bring that up now? Change the cassette, Mukesh is becoming boring. For a journey, only Kishore is right. By the way, had you gone to see Shivarajayya?" he asked abruptly. "Just like that... to thank him," Prarthana said. "Don't repeat this. Don't go anywhere without my knowledge; I don't like it," he said, and after that, he didn't speak a single word until they reached Bengaluru. For the first time, Debu felt that she was beginning her life with a murderer. As she stepped out of the car in front of the Windsor Manor hotel in Bengaluru, she felt like taking a bus back to Davanagere—no, to Shivamogga—and just leaving. She couldn't go. It rained very heavily in Bengaluru that night. Wearing a nightie, Prarthana stood by the wide-open window, watching the rain. That was when Debu felt she was like a sitar, and the question arose whether he should play it. But he felt as though he had become numb, unable to even rise from the bed he was lying on. This was because two names kept haunting him repeatedly: Sarvamangala and Sujay Kulhotra.

By the next morning, Prarthana had woken up with a completely different mindset at Windsor Manor.

The pleasant weather of Rona brought a new sense of liveliness. After finishing her bath, she kissed Debu’s forehead with her petals-of-parijata lips. They shared a cup of steaming coffee. For some reason, all the weariness and bitterness of the night had vanished, and a new longing had sprouted in both of them. After many days, Debu was dressed like a pure Bengali in a white jubba and tight pyjamas. Prarthana had emerged immersed in a pure silk saree, smelling of the earth. He kissed her so deeply and for so long that he couldn't pull away. Just as their bodies were about to tune into each other, forgetting all that was old, the first flight to Hyderabad had arrived. Leaving the Mercedes car they had brought from Davanagere at the hotel, they had rushed to the airport in a taxi. There was a sense of wonder in Prarthana’s eyes. "Truly, am I boarding a plane?" The only memory she had was of holding her brother’s hand in the courtyard of their house with the white stone pillars beyond Channarayapatna, looking up at the sky. A small, bright light, like a tiny moving star amidst the clusters of the night, was a plane—had she ever imagined this? She had only felt that perhaps some prince would seat her on a horse, ride off to an unknown direction, reach a palace chamber, and say, "Prarthana, you are mine now." Beyond that, where were the dreams? Back then, when Himavant, who had walked with her all the way from Channarayapatna to Shivamogga, was washing the wound on her broken big toe and bandaging it, she had felt she had found her black-horse prince.

Now, Debu was fastening the airplane seatbelt around her waist. In the eyes of the air hostess, there was a faint flicker—from where to where had Prarthana arrived? As the plane kicked off the ground and stood in the sky, rising higher and higher, a sunbeam piercing through the window began to play golden games on Debu’s cheeks. A man so handsome, so wealthy, so intelligent—could he not be even better? "Debu?" she said. "What?" "We will always hold each other like this, and love each other so intensely that we cannot bear to be apart even for a moment, right?" she asked. "I swear. Above all, you are my wife. love," he exclaimed, leaning toward her. The air hostess, standing at the tip of the curved airplane aisle, turned her face away with a slight impatience. Hyderabad was within sight.

"Debu, the two of us have lived for twenty years in different places and with different experiences. Whatever happened in our lives, let us not talk about it anymore. Let us forget it. From today, I am only yours, and you are only mine—in body, speech, and mind," Prarthana said, burying her face in Debu's chest.

But Debu thought, "If that is so, should I just remain silent even when I know the details of how you were that night with Sujay Mallik? Should I not ask you, Prarthana, about with such a man? stay quiet about where you were, how long you were there, and what you were doing?" He wanted to lift his head and ask her sharply, but for some reason, he just stared at the ground.

At the airport, the celebrations and the opulence of the Banjara Hills had gathered in the entire mansion. Seeing the way Debu’s parents and their Bengali relatives welcomed them like children, tears of joy welled up in Prarthana’s eyes. Where had she come from, and reached? Prarthana stood in the marble-smooth courtyard of the Banjara Hills mansion named 'Himanshu' and asked herself. She stood there, looking at the expensive cars parked on the ground, vying for space.

As a girl from Shivamogga, she had once stood her ground firmly before Rasool Jamadar in the town's Shivamurti Circle, with the self-confidence that wealth provides, and declared, "We have decided to walk together until the end." She hadn't even thought of the memory of the candy-selling boy, Himavant, who used to stand at Debu's house. What was his fate?

The huge lamp in the room where she lay was glowing, but there was no celebration here. silence that filled the courtyard of the mansion, and danger of going hungry. But Himavant sat in the middle, wearing a rough lungi and a single worn-out jubba, eating plain rice boiled in an aluminum pot. He had nothing but that one jubba, while she was dressed in luxury.

Reason to Tell / 215

But how much of a hunger it was for opulence; Prarthana wondered if perhaps celebration didn't have a hunger of its own. Once the festivities were over, as she took off all the jewelry she had worn and entered the room that had been left for her, she began to extinguish the lamps. Suddenly, for some reason, Himavant started coming to her memory like a stinging wound. Where was I, and where have I ended up? Where are you, Mitra? Did I leave you behind, or did you get lost? I remember you taking me from the courtyard of the white school to your nest-like house in Shivamogga. holding my hand and leading me. kissing the injury on my thumb. Your house was small... but I remember filling it completely. Today, Dev has filled the house, but he himself is not by my side. Back then, you had I didn't stay in that house. Why did this happen, Himu? Where was I, and where have I come to? Where were you left behind?

The mansion was silent. Near the compound gate, under a dim light, a Gorkha sat on a small stool, singing something to himself. Although the song was unclear, Prarthana understood that there was some kind of pain in the melody. Had she walked down the bungalow steps and stood behind the Gorkha without making a sound, she might have known. He was singing a Mukesh song: "Ruk gaye ho toh mujhe yaad bhi aaya na karo... aawaaz na do!"

That very day, Himavant had sold all the sites in the layout and had gone to Shanthappa’s house to hand over the accounts. There was still a lot of work left, but all the money that was supposed to come had been received. "If I settle the accounts up to this stage, it will be better for both of us. Along with these accounts, there are also the details of the loan I took from you for Prarthana's sake. the expenses incurred for food and travel over these twenty days. Every single rupee is accounted for—there is no difference. Please sit down and check the accounts once," he had said. Shanthappa had not spoken. He had called out to his wife inside the house, "Haimanna has come; bring some coffee," and then turned to Himavant, "Look, brother, I..."

"Why should I have told you? I never asked for your accounts, did I? Did I ever know who returned the money I had invested? If I had looked at everything, I would have ended up like Nandakka, losing my mind in calculations." Tears welled up in her eyes. Just then, a woman from Nandakka's place came out holding a glass of buttermilk.

'Such foolishness. Nandakka is not a woman of ordinary stature. If she keeps someone, people will gossip. It is said that this relative simply went to Shanthappa’s place and brought his wife back after performing the wedding rituals. It is a common social practice for a man to be distressed after losing his wife. But to forget that grief so soon... however, who am I to decide if this is right or wrong? If it happens suddenly, will I also bring home another woman like Shanthappa did? What if she dies?'

Himavant spoke out loud without realizing it, "Where would I even be alive?" They looked at each other, wondering what that meant. Shanthappa did not understand it. He just smiled and got up to leave.

Coming out, he stood for a moment at the Shivamogga circle. Suddenly, the entire weight seemed to lift, leaving him feeling empty inside and out. If Prarthana were not there, what reason would I have to live from tomorrow? The work at Gadikoppa is more or less finished. Once the accounts are settled, I will get the money. With that money, I will complete the nursing home and a large sum will go to Prarthana. After a few months, it will all be finished. Then what, Himavant?

It is all empty. If there were no dreams, how much more peaceful would I have been? If Prarthana’s nursing home were not there, would it have been possible for me to come to Gadikoppa today? to swallow such immense fatigue and work? If only Prarthana were here with me in this exhaustion. Her cheap nighty; the moonlight in her eyes; the moments when she would plead to be held; and then, in some magical trance, the songs she would remember; the way the bodies would sway together, drawing their own lines of restraint, and finally falling into a cool, deep sleep. Prarthana should have been here today!

Even as he thought this, he pondered on something he had never even considered. Thinking that, he turned in another direction, rushed into the telephone booth located at the circle near Prarthana's hostel.

"Tell me the reason."

"I am asking about the girl from Shivamogga, Prarthana. Please call her," Himavant asked in an agitated tone.

"Sir, that is exactly who I was talking about. She has gone to Hyderabad. Her engagement is the day after tomorrow. She will be back," the hostel employee was replying.

Muttering "Nonsense," he was just about to hang up the phone when he suddenly remembered and blurted out, "Look, there is a girl named Urmila who is her roommate, right? Call her."

If he hadn't remembered Urmila by chance, if he had hung up the phone called Kaveramma’s house by chance, and if, by chance, Kaveramma had come looking for Prarthana at the hostel, the lightning would have struck two days early.

"That's a surprise! Is that you calling? Prarthana and I were just talking. She just went to a friend's house to study. The exams are very close, aren't they? She is studying very seriously. Do you have anything to tell her?" Urmila spoke, burying the truth on one side. By mistake, she did not speak about Hyderabad or the engagement. She didn't even let him speak. What if Prarthana changed her mind?

As she placed the receiver back on the cradle, she felt it herself: "How long can I hold back this rising sea of destruction?"

Having paid the man at the telephone booth, Himavant started walking towards Gadekoppa, feeling a sense of turmoil. Although talking to Urmila had given him a little relief, he felt a wave of restlessness rising somewhere in the corner of his mind. Do boys feel such an inexplicable distress the moment girls decide to deceive them? If that is true, it is more terrifying than the agony of betrayal.

Feeling that he couldn't walk all the way to Gadekoppa, Himavant went to Rasool Jamadar’s house that day and ended up sleeping there. No matter how much Rasool insisted, he did not eat. Rasool made him lie down, covered him with a blanket, and sat silently beside him until he fell asleep. When Rasool Jamadar finally got up to head to his own room, the only thing he heard that sounded like a groan from Himavant was, "Prarthana!"

Tell Me Before You Leave / 218

"Prarthana, in exchange for the joy you have given me today, I will keep you in the pupils of my eyes and love you. Even my mother hadn't given me such happiness in my entire life." There were tears of joy in Debu's eyes as he spoke, lying in Prarthana’s lap, watching her immense happiness. She leaned forward silently and kissed his eyes with her Parijata-petal-like lips. Having finished the engagement, both of them had returned to Bengaluru. Since it was already evening by the time they arrived, they decided to spend one more night at Windsor Manor and head to Davangere in the morning.

Happiness was flowing in both of them. Let alone the words of Debu's parents, their entire circle of relatives was left stunned by Prarthana's conduct, her beauty, her singing, and her kindness. Even if he had searched with a lamp in hand, Debu wouldn’t have found such a suitable wife. Everyone had said as much to Debu's parents right in front of her. The engagement had taken place grandly, just like in Bengali tradition. When they were about to leave, Debu's mother pulled him aside and said just one thing: "At least make this girl’s life happy!" Debu was tearful. A visible change had come over him; he felt that she had come to him with so much trust, and he had to make her life happy. The past was meaningless; the future had to be golden. He had decided this.

Upon reaching Bengaluru, he did not show any enthusiasm for drinking, nor did he show any urge to embrace her. But he was full of high spirits. leave her side for even a moment and kept talking continuously. Amidst those words, Prarthana asked in a calm voice: "Debu, let me go for just one day tomorrow. I want to go to Shivamogga and come back. You go to Davangere alone. I will then, after that, I will never step out from your shadow. Will that be okay?"

"To Shivamogga? Why now?"

"I have to pay off a debt. I need to be released from a bond. Don't say no this one time, Debu." She pleaded.

"Alright."

It was as if someone had called out; Himavant flung open the door of his stone house and stepped out. Tears welled up in his eyes. Prarthana was standing there! She walked slowly towards him and rested her forehead on his feet. For some reason, the gods were absent from the sky that day. The sea had swirled and risen.

Time had come to a standstill in the open field. Himavant stood rooted like a stone statue. All his efforts had failed, and the tears that filled his eyes streamed down his cheeks. When Prarthana rested her forehead on his feet, his entire body vibrated like a veena. "I thought this moment would come only after three more years!" he said to himself. He had planned to go and bring Prarthana back himself after five full years. As they turned into the fields of Gādikoppa, the board painted in her favorite dark blue color, inscribed with 'Prarthana Layout,' should have caught her eye. Her eyes should have been overflowing with surprise, joy, and excitement—seeing the house he had built, every road he had laid, every tree he had planted, the Prarthana Hospital he had erected, the small temple in its bosom, the swing he had installed for her to relax in the medicinal garden behind his house, and her own separate room. He wanted to show her everything, one by one. He had imagined hugging her until she was breathless—she, who stood stunned as if unable to utter a word—and whispering, "Every minute spent waiting for you has not been wasted, Prarthana; every minute has been spent for you." Then, the two of them would sit silently for hours, as if having forgotten how to speak. Even after explaining everything, he imagined Prarthana would continue to murmur, "Did you do all this for me? Did you do it all alone? How did you manage it, Himu? My Himu, aren't you just wonderful, Himu?" Himavant had thought that for an emotional person like Prarthana, it would take a long time to digest the sight of an unexpected dream coming to life before her eyes.

Standing in front of the stone house, she began to stare with indifferent eyes. "It feels like he never changes. Has he been like this ever since he was born?" she asked herself, and a smile came to her face. Ever since she had seen him in Channarayapatna, he had been the same. At most, he had tanned a little; his skin beneath his vest remained the same. His cheeks, covered in tight, stubbly facial hair, showed two years of aging. How many years and days had it been since she had last seen Himavant properly? Exposed to the open fields, the scorching sun, the battering winds, and the piercing cold—what else could he be but tanned? She thought she should find a girl who would take good care of him and tell him to get married. "I realized this only when I went to Nanda's house. You are so attached to all of this. Himavant, was it really necessary to leave the town and live all alone in these open fields? Do you think everyone who builds a house builds it in the forest like you? You have gone mad," she said, starting to climb the steps of the stone house.

"Whatever I have built is done with love, for the sake of love—nothing is madness, Prarthana. I have poured love into every brick, sprinkled love, and fed it love to turn this into a bungalow. And the building coming up next to it is the Prarthana Hospital. Do you think it is possible to build that without love?" Himavant spoke without moving from the steps; his voice sounded like the ringing of a temple bell atop a mountain. She did not have the courage to look him in the eye. Shanthappa had said that he had burned all his days and nights over the past two years for the sake of Prarthana Layout. But she had never imagined that an ordinary man like Himavant could conceive something so colossal. She had been stunned when she first saw the brochures Shanthappa showed her regarding the layout. Could Himavant, who lived in a rented room at the corner of Shivamogga Circle so small that one would hesitate to even stretch their legs, be building such a dream empire?

"Look at the coincidence. I had never even dreamt in my wildest imagination that you might suddenly show up, but today, while making the menthya curry, I felt that this was something Prarthana would really like. It feels as if everything I do, it for her. I keep thinking that I shouldn't eat or drink anything you like, and then I laugh at my own madness." Himavant was speaking as if all of this were his own internal monologue.

Prarthana felt apprehensive: the entire open field was scorching, with half-built structures, exposed foundations, and solitary stone-laden, brand-new roads. On a large hillock near the house, a bell hung, and the lowing of a calf echoed. How was she to tell Himavant—who was living all alone in the midst of this wilderness with the dream of reuniting with her after three years—her decision in such direct words? Himavant’s heart would break. In this vast wasteland, there would be no one to hear his cry; he would be left speechless, consumed from within. What would become of Himavant?

More importantly, she should not have come alone to this desolate field in Gadi-koppa to deliver such a heavy decision; she could have at least brought Urmi-didi along. Debu was right; people like us do not have the strength to stand before Himavant’s guileless eyes. He had said, "Just write him a letter and explain everything." No, she knew what Himavant’s temper was like. After reading the letter, he would walk all the way to Davanagere if he had to. It would create an unnecessary scene in the hostel in front of her friends. Both of them still had to spend three more years in Davanagere; why invite such a mess? Moreover, Himavant had the right to get worked up and show up at the hostel. He loved her; he was not her father whom she could just tell to leave, and he would depart. a guilty father. She was the one who had made the mistake; to come and ask for forgiveness. Surely, God would not refuse to forgive.

Thinking this, Prarthana had come. But here, in this scorching, lonely wilderness of Gadi-koppa, would she be able to stand her ground and deliver her decision? Could Himavant, who was capable of getting so worked up that he might walk all the way to Davanagere after reading a letter, remain calm in such solitude? How might his wild temper manifest? Would she not be afraid then? She thought she should have considered this first. Now, Himavant, leaving no room for further thought, saw her enter the stone house, and a surge of joy erupted within him—a joy like that which bubbles up in small children. He first pulled out a chair for Prarthana and forcibly made her sit on it by holding her hand. Then, he sat down on the floor before her in a padmasana (lotus position), staring at her unblinkingly, like a madman.

Tell Me the Reason / 222

In her unwavering eyes, a radiant light shimmered for a long time, as if she had attained something divine. Himavant kept looking at her, and then, his eyes became completely moist. Suddenly, he called out, "Prarthana!" He didn't even touch her, though he could have; he worshiped her while sitting at a distance. As if he were seeing God manifest before him, he looked at her as if performing penance. Finishing what he had to say, he took her aside, washed her hands himself, and seated her before a banana leaf he had brought. He served her steaming hot "Hitpala huli" (a traditional dish) which she loved. As Prarthana mixed it with thick curds and ate rice bite by bite, it felt as though the expectation of the last two years had reached its fruition. He sat a little distance away, watching her as if she were eating. After she finished eating and washed her hands, he gently wiped her reddish palms with a soft, snowy-white towel. "Did you eat, Himavant?" Prarthana asked for the tenth time. "I could live even without eating for three years," he replied. After she finished her meal, he brought her to the front room and laid out a mat for her to sit on, leaning against the wall. Until then, it hadn't been possible for Prarthana to look straight into Himavant's eyes. But as she looked up at him sitting on the veranda, Himavant had become serious, just as he was when he had left Channarayapatna for Shivamogga that day.

"Dreams, Prarthana! Dreams! How did I spend these two years? Today, it feels just like a dream. How can a man live without dreams? You left the White Salai house empty-handed, and I dreamt of making you a doctor. I shared that dream with you. I left you in Davangere, but I needed a different dream. See? I brought the dream of this 'Prarthana Layout.' If a man doesn't chase his dreams like this, how can life move forward, Prarthana? You must complete your course and come back. From the sanctum of this very hospital, you must erase the pain of thousands of women and children, and bring forth smiles. After that, a child named 'Himanshu' should be born to us. We should break off a piece of our dream and place it in his hands. Then, he will grow while chasing his own dreams. From the midst of his dreams, he will bring a new piece of a our hands. Isn't that what life is? To have a dream that no one else has, and to live happily in order to make it come true. The day the dream ends, no human being..."

"Won't survive, will they, Prarthana?" When Himavant finished speaking, there was a strange silence on the veranda. Does a person die the moment a dream ends? "No, Himu; a person dies the moment blood supply to the brain stops. the heart stops beating. I am the one who has been studying exactly that in medical college for two years; I cannot think as emotionally as you," Prarthana said.

"Do you think birth and death are only physical? I was talking about a different kind of living. Not about brain death. Not about the clinical death they teach in our college. Forget all that. Tell me, how are you? Are you studying well? When Urmila called the other day, she said you had gone to some house to study. What did you eat there? Or anything at all? Sometimes I feel like I have burdened you with the weight of a dream unnecessarily because you are younger than me. It feels like I am sitting here cooking tasty food and eating to my heart’s content while I let you struggle and study there. When night falls, and you are there losing sleep to study, I feel restless thinking that I am sleeping soundly here, and I end up waking up at odd hours. You get stomach pain once a month, right? I just suffer here thinking about that. You remember me like this too, don't you, Prarthana?" Himavant asked, looking at her with eyes full of longing.

Prarthana’s lower lip trembled. She thought that if she had at least brought Deebu along, she could have avoided being caught by Himu’s eyes, his words, and his unbearable love. "How could I not remember you? I thought how nice it would have been if you had been there when they all came from Hyderabad the other day," she said. Suddenly changing her tone, she added, "Himu, I’m going to lie down for a while; I’m feeling very sleepy."

As soon as the mention of Hyderabad came up, questions rose in Himavant’s eyes, but wondering how late she might have stayed up studying, and that she had traveled in the morning, he thought she should sleep for a while. He spread a soft bedsheet on the mat and brought her a pillow. Prarthana lay down. A long time later, she opened her eyes simply and looked. He was sitting leaning against the wall, watching her with calm eyes.

Prarthana had decided then that for a new dream to take root, the old one must die. Himavant was still clutching onto a dream from two years ago, while she had walked a long distance away during these years. She had to return and tell Himavant; tell him today itself. She would not be able to come back again. Neither the desolation of the fields of Gajanur nor the innocent love flowing in Himu’s eyes should hold her back. By the time the light broke, she would leave this place, having severed all ties. Debu would be waiting there, with the dream they had half-finished! Outside, it had slowly started to get dark. Himavant got up and switched on the courtyard light. In the shed, the calf let out a low moo. As he stood in front of the stone house, Prarthana stood close to him and spoke those words: "Himu, I am getting married elsewhere." He turned toward her slowly. A star fell from the sky.

Prarthana was startled by the cold indifference in the eyes of Himavant, who had turned toward her. There was only emptiness there. It was the strange calmness found a child who had just woken up from sleep—a child who has not yet started looking for its mother. A feeling like that. An inexplicable emptiness. Even though she had spoken the entire sentence, "Himu, I am getting married elsewhere," as clearly as possible for him to hear, it was as if he had not understood it at all. Or perhaps, it had no impact on him whatsoever. In reality, Himavant’s subconscious mind was not even ready to hear or accept such a thing. Prarthana could not decide. He looked at her for a moment with blank eyes. After a long time, as if it were not even a matter of consequence, he said, "Let it be. What is that talk?" With that, the topic was finished. He turned his gaze away from Prarthana and began to stare at the darkness that had spread thickly over the fields of Gajanur with the same indifference. With that single phrase, "Let it be, what is that talk?" Himavant...

The reason for her telling him was that he was erasing a major decision as if it had no meaning; he was not even looking at her now. It is very difficult to talk to someone who stands staring into the darkness. But if Himavant were to look at her directly with his calm, unconfused eyes, she might falter and crumble before the stability of his love and the strength of his morality. It is better that Himu remains looking into the darkness; to say everything right at this moment as concisely as possible. There is no need to fumble for sentences. From the moment she left Bengaluru, Prarthana had decided exactly how each sentence, each word, and the inflection of each syllable should be. Having decided that she could no longer remain silent, she said, "Himu."

"I know you are about to lie. You will say you went to Hyderabad, that you got engaged; I know all of that is a lie. You might lie, but Urmi won't. At least, not to me. Not even for a joke, Prarthana. Come here. I will show you how pleasant the darkness is in the fields of Ghadikoppa. Let's just walk that far and come back. For some reason, I am unable to stay in the light, Prarthana. I’m scared."

By the time he finished speaking, Himavant’s voice betrayed signs of defeat. For the very first time, Prarthana had heard the words "I am scared" from his mouth. Is Himavant this weak? Weak enough to be unable to bear the light and be drawn toward the darkness? Or does it happen when one loves too deeply? As Himavant, a man of such a strong physique, stood facing the darkness of Ghadikoppa, it felt as if his entire body was trembling slightly. A profound sense of compassion welled up within her; she walked toward him and took hold of his arm. "Himu," Prarthana said.

"There are very few stars in the sky tonight, Prarthana. The moon won't rise today. I have walked all alone through even thicker darkness than this, but it has never been like this before. Every time I stepped into this field, I would imagine a 'Prarthana Layout' rising up, with hundreds of houses here, and lights glittering all over the field—how beautiful it would be! Walking alone, I used to feel like I should at least have a torch in my hand. But Prarthana, today, for some reason, the very sight of light scares me. I just feel like staying in the darkness." As he spoke...

Prarthana was leading Himavant towards the darkness, as if he had no sense of direction, like someone who had lost his way. She took a step, and then he followed. Walking towards Shivamogga, just like the scenes from Channarayapatna, the memory of that day flashed before her. It was pitch black; apart from the occasional headlights of passing buses, there was only darkness. Prarthana did not feel afraid because Himavant was with her. Even now, Himavant was walking beside her. He wasn't saying a word, and he didn't seem scared in the slightest. However, Prarthana couldn't help but feel that the time she had chosen was wrong. Or perhaps the place was wrong? Or was it wrong to tell someone like Himavant about her decision at such an inconvenient time?

Standing in the open field at Gadikoppa, she turned to him, "It's not like that, Himu. The light of a lamp in life is not permanent, and this darkness isn't either. You'll see, everything will be alright. Even at this moment, I respect you just as much as I did back then. It would be enough if you just came closer with love. I have come to you like a child to her mother. You behave this way—you talk, you shout, you get angry. You might even kill me. I am willing to bear your anger, Himu. This is a life you shaped; you finish it. But hear me out, Himu... I have made the decision to marry Debu. Urmi didi lied to you. It is true that I went to Hyderabad; my engagement took place. I wanted to come to you beforehand, tell you everything, and take your blessings. But some events happened beyond my control. In fact, Debu was supposed to come with me today to seek your blessings, but I told him not to."

"Is that so? Why?" Himavant interrupted her suddenly, asking a question that sounded peculiar.

"Because," Prarthana hesitated, "I wanted to stand here alone and talk to you. You and I had a different kind of bond..."

"Because," Prarthana stumbled, "between you and me..."

"You admit that this is the end, don't you, Prarthana? That is enough. I don't care about which Hyderabad, which Debu, or which Urmi it is. Why do I need all that, Prarthana? For all these days, you were not there, and I was alone. Our relationship existed then, and it exists now. You have come here to speak these words; let the relationship remain as it is. To me, it is of no consequence."

"Why should I listen, Prarthana?"

Himavant’s voice sounded like that of a being who had no connection to the real world. Prarthana felt afraid, and that was when it struck Himavant. There is no state of mind more dangerous than that. She had to make Himavant talk, by any means necessary; bring him back to the reality of today and convince him that this relationship was ending right now. If he didn't feel pain, shock, get angry, blame her, curse her—Himavant would never behave like a normal human being again. The injustice done until now was enough; she could not leave Himavant broken mentally, standing in this lightless wasteland. He was God.

Prarthana grabbed the hand of the walking Himavant and stopped him. Not knowing what else to do, she leaned her head on his shoulder and began to sob loudly. Her warm tears began to soak the shoulder of Himavant’s rough jubba. But Himavant had become so stony that he didn't make a single small effort to comfort her.

They both collapsed onto a mound of earth nearby, as if their strength had given out. With her face buried in Himavant’s lap, she cried for a long time. Himavant sat motionless, as if waiting for all her tears to pour out until they were finished. After a long while, Prarthana sat up. Like someone utterly exhausted, Himavant lay flat on his back, leaning against the mound of earth. Both were silent for a long time, as if they had already said all the words that needed to be said.

Finally, Prarthana spoke: "You might think I am deceiving you a lot, Himu. But I am helpless. You never taught me what love is. You only taught me adoration. Even today, the devotion and adoration I have for you have not diminished by even a blade of grass. You will always be God to me! I have not deceived God. I have worshipped God; I have adored God; I still respect you. But I have started to love a human being. You might think this is just infatuation, Himu. I am a human. For those who are human, there is love, attachment, desire, longing, lust, urgency—everything exists. And all of those must be fulfilled by humans. What love is, was shown to me by the one who is God, and I could not push that away, Himu. I have reached this decision thinking like a mere human. I am telling you everything without hiding anything. You are with great hope and great difficulty, got me into college. After finishing the course, becoming a doctor, and coming to touch my forehead to your feet—you will forgive me..."

"Tell me the reason," [he said].

"I had thought of standing before you and telling you about Debu only after giving you my word; but events unfolded beyond my expectations. I corrected it from Bilisale, called my father, and we performed the betrothal rituals at Debu's house in Davangere. Yesterday, in Hyderabad, they performed it again according to their customs. Not telling you all these days was my mistake. Today, feeling that I could no longer keep it from you, I came looking for you. Tell me yourself, Himu, what more can I do beyond this?" Prarthana finished her words in a choked voice.

Himu did not move. Lying flat on his back with his back against the mound of earth, there was not even the slightest movement from him. In the darkness, his face was not clearly visible to Prarthana. Having moved slightly away from him while talking, Prarthana moved closer to him after a few moments. She tried to lift his head, which was lying as if thrown upon the mound of earth, with both her hands and place it on her lap; and then she felt it—moisture!

Himavant’s eyes, cheeks, the slopes beside his eyes, his hair, the back of his neck, and one shoulder of his jubba—everything was drenched and had become a small pool of silent sobs. Without a sound, Himu was crying. The man who never wept was starting to cry! Tears welled up in Prarthana’s eyes too. He was no longer reacting to Prarthana’s presence; he lay motionless in her lap like a lifeless body. The words had ended all at once, and the flow of tears was continuous. Neither of them had anything left to say; it felt as though all answers had vanished. needed any questions now.

'I wish this night would end, or even better, if only I could finish off at least one night of my life,' Himavant thought to himself as he lay there. He tried to wipe his eyes while still lying in her lap. Just as he was about to turn to his side, he said, "They have come." Prarthana, who had just managed to catch the hem of her sari, was pushed aside by Himavant as he suddenly stood up, unaware that he had pushed her away from his lap. Two blazing lights arrived into the open field; it was Debu’s car coming from Gadikoppa.

Debu’s car did not speed. But in the light cast by the car's lamps, the killer...

Prarthana, who had been pushed by an unconscious urge to stand up beside a mound in the middle of the barren, desolate field, was shivering in the darkness. Debu’s arrival was unexpected. There was no doubt or hesitation in her mind; she had decided that after staying with Himavant for this one night, she would explain her decision to him, seek his blessing, and leave for Davanagere as soon as dawn broke to meet Debu. Was that all? Had she not, even once, longed to experience that indescribable sense of security—lying on the same mat as Himavant, just as they had for so many years, with no line drawn between them, resting her head on his arm—once more? Her inner mind questioned her; had Debu’s car not arrived, scattering the thick darkness with its headlights, perhaps she would have answered 'yes'. From the moment they met until this very minute, she had been receiving everything she needed from Himavant. He had given everything without ever asking for anything in return, like a god. He gave her courage, gave her the opportunity to walk towards her goals, gave her sleep in his eyes even when he lay right beside her, canopy of moonlight, gave morsels to her hungry mind, and gave peace to her heart when it felt like she was being torn apart. In these two and a half years, he had poured everything he had into her, yet Himavant's vessel never ran dry. If she had asked him to hold her close again like he used to, spend one more night in that same silent, loving way... Himavant would not have said no to that either. Because a god’s palms never empty. She was the truly unfortunate one, standing there having taken everything! Was it the moisture in Prarthana’s eyes, a change in her decision, or the pressure of circumstances? Life had brought her and left her standing in this desolate field. Two years ago, didn't she dream of catching a glimpse of this same Himavant? Wasn't she in such a state that she couldn't bear to be away from him for even a second? Hadn't she wept a thousand times, asking if this life was destined for her? When Himavant would gently pat her body, which was like a tuned veena, and lay her down with cool, soothing words, hadn't she burned with desire and impatience? Her body had not known what lust was. The only one who knew was Himavant.

Despite all the love, he had remained distant. Places changed, time passed. Debu, with his body like a bamboo grove, had shattered Himavant—who was like an elephant—bit by bit; how he had tormented him! He was the exact opposite of Himavant in nature. He was reckless, always in a hurry; just by coming close, the blood would turn to mercury, unlike Himavant who would lie still as a mace. Perhaps for the past few days, for some reason, he had been dull. Otherwise, Debu was always like a neighing horse, an elegant man who adorned himself with garlands of desires. But she had never experienced the feeling of being "secured" with him as she did in the embrace of Himavant. For that, it had to be Himavant. There is no connection between a girl’s mind and her longings. A girl who approaches a man with unparalleled passion, once she gets very close, desires only for him to lie silently, holding her without speaking a word for hours. Had she come to Himavant wishing for such silent happiness one last time? Was there more to talk about? Was there something left unsaid that she wanted to finish telling him within this night? Did she want to have a small, long-due fight and end it? the farewell, like the meeting, to be an unforgettable event? Asking for forgiveness and him forgiving her—this was not the only purpose of this night. Even if all the threads of the relationship were to be severed, couldn't some invisible bridge have been left behind today? Why did Debu have to come just then? Prarthana thought that he should have left this one night exclusively for the two of them. As Debu’s car headed towards Himavant’s stone house, for the second time, she muttered as if in a trance, "He has come," and casting a vague look at Himavant sitting in the darkness, she began to walk toward the car. Himavant did not have the strength left to raise his voice and ask, "Where?" His wet cheeks were smeared with dust. Like a blade of grass beneath a receding flood, he rose and sat up slowly. There was a roar like the sea echoing in his ears. Prarthana was abandoning him! If someone had said so two years ago, he would have just laughed it off. When he wrote the letter of resignation, when Urmila came and went repeatedly for no reason, and when he strongly felt that Prarthana was lying—every time, only one thing had held him back.

"Who can ever deceive God?" When she had newly arrived in Davangere, Prarthana had written that very line across an entire sheet of paper. How much sincerity there was in her handwriting! In her words, in her expectations, in the speed with which she would run to the hostel gate like a whirlwind the moment I arrived, in the warmth of her forehead brushing against my feet, in the fervor stand on the terrace and suddenly become my voice—how much of me was there! How much had I been filled? How much of Prarthana had seeped into me? Is she saying that all of that is enough? Has life ended at this juncture? Is the dream broken? Must I continue to live even after it is broken? Doesn't a person die the moment a dream ends? Was just my delusion? He is stopping the car, and Prarthana is walking towards him in a hurry. In the darkness, she is not easily visible. He steps out of the car, turns towards the house, and calls out, "Prarthana." Should I get up immediately and kill him? Should I kill them both? If it is true that Prarthana loved me two and a half years ago, I must kill her. No; what she did now is not betrayal. She never loved me at all. The real betrayal was what happened Why kill someone who poor thing? If I had known back then, two and a half years ago, that this was a betrayal, would I have killed her then near the Gajanur dam? No. I had called her 'mother.' I hadn't; I had just considered her as such. Would someone like a mother betray? Because she wouldn't betray, I decided to become a god for her; wouldn't it have been enough if been Himu? Leaning against a hillock and talking to himself, Himavant felt as if his own words did not sound convincing to him. Was it the first time that the two of them had come to Shivamogga in a car? Had he already been cheated by then? Or was it that time I chased the car on my bike along the Harihar road? Had the betrayal matured by then? Why were such questions tormenting Himavant? Once it is betrayal, what does it matter when it happened? Does he not have the right to know how many weeks, how many months, how many years—he had been living bearing the burden of such a 'trickery'? Deciding that he must kill Prarthana, he tried to rise, but he swayed. A thousand trains thundered in his head; for many days...

"Doesn't it happen when you get a beating?" It felt like such torment was spreading through his head. For some reason, he remembered his grandfather. He remembered how he had once taken him to the fields of Gaadikoppa, where he had walked briskly, holding a rattan cane in his hand, chanting in a strange, resonant voice, despite being told repeatedly not to go. He felt as though he didn't have the strength to stand up. He wondered if he decided at this very moment to hunt down and kill Debu, perhaps all the vitality would return to his body. But what had Debu done that deserved to be killed? If he were to kill anyone, it should be her. But had he not sat with her in the moonlight, mixing curd rice and feeding her with such affection? brought her from miles away and stood with her at the threshold of life? embraced her, put her to sleep like a child, drained away all the friendship of the day to become her mother by night? Had he not remembered her with every morsel of food? To her, he had been food, money, candy, letters, and even God! Could he kill someone like that?

Giving up the attempt to rise from the mound of earth, he simply sat with his hands hanging limp. Suddenly, an uncontrollable sorrow overcame him. "Prarthana—" he screamed, as if his insides were being torn apart, and falling onto began to wail loudly. For the first time in his life, he realized he could do nothing; he was too weak to even shake the dust off and stand up from this mound. Everything ended here. He had lost his very existence. He was now just a creature with long, grotesque limbs; no human could ever love him again. As the thought that he would no longer be understood by Prarthana crossed his mind, a torrent of tears, like a roaring ocean, overwhelmed Himavant.

Trying to catch his breath in between, he screamed once more, "Prarthana... Prarthana..." in a way that would shatter one’s heart. Then, opening his voice, he lay flat on his back, facing the sky, and wept loudly. The fields of Gaadikoppa seemed frozen; a dream had been murdered there. The darkness was dense. There were no stars in the sky to protect Himavant from the sin. After wailing for a long time, Himavant slowly sat up. Unconsciously, his two fists grabbed handfuls of earth from the mound. Suddenly, turning his gaze toward the house, he cursed loudly, "Die, you Prarthana," and with that, he [held] a handful—

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled. Then, Himavant let out a long, weary sigh. Filling his legs with all the life left in his body, he stood up straight. In the far distance, two figures were visible standing next to a car. Even from that distance, Prarthana’s silhouette was remarkably distinct; he thought to himself that not even such a dense darkness could conceal the beauty of this assassin. Both shadowy figures began walking toward him. There was no question of Himavant speaking to them both; he had prepared himself to ask only Prarthana, along with Debu, one thing.

"He is terribly upset!"

Rising from the mound of earth, she had walked hurriedly, approached Debu as he stepped out of the car, and said those words in a soft voice.

"Are you also disturbed!?"

Debu’s reaction had sprung out like the tip of an arrow. "I didn't think you would be here, alone with your old lover in such a silent, deserted field at night. I thought in the room behind Shanthappa’s shop near the Shivamogga circle. What is this, Prarthana? What kind of midnight repayment is this? Is this what you meant by breaking off our relationship?"

Although Debu did not ask these things in a staccato manner, his voice clearly carried all that dissatisfaction when he said, "Are you also disturbed?"

*Oh, you man! Is this all your trust amounts to? I yearned for you, endured all your deceits, and was ready to accept you with all your weaknesses. For a wandering flirt like you, I consciously deceived a friend like Himavant for two whole years. Today, when I came to offer a final goodbye to that god and ask for forgiveness for everything, you suspect even that?*

In that moment, a feeling of disgust toward Debu arose in her. She wondered if she could have just sent the car away—the car that had entered the fields of Ghadikoppa—and shunned Debu forever, had she not already told Himavant about her arrival. But she knew that was not possible for her. Over the last two years, she had very deliberately and gradually erased Himavant from her life. Debu might be poor. ugly. useless. Yet, none of that could turn her away from Debu and back to Himavant.

This life cannot be endured by carrying it [as a burden] alone. Whether it was Himavant’s, or whether what she was doing was a betrayal, she had admitted to herself deep down. It was not a momentary decision, nor was it a deception sold in haste. It was only after she had systematically killed the innocent Prarthana within herself that she had established Debu in her heart. Let the world say what it wants; it was not a flirtation. Prarthana might be a deceiver, but that was in the past; she could not correct the past. Wasn't that the very reason she had come all the way to get Himavant? Everything had to be searched for and finished by this night.

Although it felt true that the car’s bright lights had suddenly appeared, Debu said, "It is good that you came. Do not hurt Himavant’s mind unnecessarily. When he left for Shivamogga, I did not have the slightest hint that Himavant would do something like this. Just as you went to Shivamurthy’s and from there searched for the fields of Gaadikoppa and arrived here, I too have searched and arrived. I am younger than you. I have been more honest with you than anyone else. Today, I am in a state that feels terrible; I need your support. Himu is very shocked. I am not afraid of his anger; I am afraid of the curse that his god-like heart might cast. Please, be with me. Let us both convince Himu; handling him is not something I can do alone. Stay with me, please Debu..." Saying this, she buried her face in his chest and began to sob.

Debu suddenly softened. He did not see any deceit in any of Prarthana’s words; all her confusion became clear to him. It was he who had broken her away from Himavant, who had loved her so much like a god, and drawn her towards himself. At first, it had all felt like a game. Then, it sprouted into pure desire. Now, it stands at the threshold of marriage. If he had not loved Prarthana so deeply, he would not have come searching all the way to the Gaadikoppa fields at this late hour. "Prarthana, my wife..." he thought to himself.

In the darkness, Himavant sat there hugging her shoulders just like that. It was then that Himavant’s eyes, which had begun to narrate the story of the hill, grew sharp! When was that? Was it when he had brought Prarthana along, leaving Achayya’s monastery, when his finger hit a sharp stone and the big toe...

Was it when the bullet fired? she was brought down from the terrace to the room's door? on the Gajanur area, Mother was remembered as if from the depths of her navel? He could not remember exactly. But that day, Prarthana had been walking just like this; embracing herself—with the same affection, the same helplessness, the same slowness! She is the same even today; only the shape of the figure embracing her shoulder has changed. Every human being in the world keeps changing the shapes beside their shoulders like this. When the person who embraces moves away, they stand in the place of observes; that is why it hurts. That is all. That is what love is; what betrayal is; what disappointment is—the sum total of it all is just pain. The pain that Prarthana is moving away from him, she is becoming Debu’s share—what is the difference between the two? Thinking this, Himavant stood firmly, planting his feet. The two of them were close. Loosening the hand that was embracing Prarthana, Debu reached out towards him, saying, "Hello Himavant." It felt like touching the tip of an iceberg. It felt as if the mighty man named Himavant had suddenly died long ago. Debu immediately pulled his hand back; he felt that what Prarthana said was true—Himavant was in deep shock. Not knowing what to talk to him about, he stood there. He began to feel that he, even more than Prarthana, needed someone's help. But Himavant recovered faster than the two of them. "It's getting very dark, let's go towards that side," he said, and slowly began to step toward a small light visible somewhere in the distance. Debu no longer had the courage to walk with his arm around Prarthana’s shoulder. He tried to start some conversation but remained silent after seeing Himavant’s silence. He felt that in front of a strong personality like Himu, anyone would become weak; he wondered what would have happened to Prarthana if she had been alone this night. In fact, Himavant seemed like a man who had finished speaking; like someone walking towards the end of his life; like someone who had decided that his connection with the two of them and with this surrounding world was over. No, even if he had to be stubborn, he should have brought Urmila with him—Debu felt this a thousand times. If there was anyone who could handle Himu, it was her. But hadn't she said she wouldn't come at all? After sending Prarthana to Shivamogga, he had gone straight to Davangere and met Urmila first. She was sitting alone in the canteen drinking tea. She had said "congrats" in a cold tone for the Hyderabad engagement. But now, seeing that Prarthana has gone to Shivamogga to inform Himavant, he felt that he shouldn't have sent her alone.

"Are you coming to Shivamogga? Or am I going?" As soon as he said this, Urmila had become a volcano. "Why do you drag me into your hell? Do you want to make me a partner to such a massive deception? Is it difficult for the mind of a Himavant, who has convinced the whole world, to deceive me? Don't ever call me for any of those things for the next two years. If I stay with Debu, Himavant’s dream will die. The desire forest he planted will die." She had said that. And it felt like every tree, every sapling, and every blade of grass he planted there would be destroyed. "After that, Himavant won't live for long. Once he dies, everything in this world will die." Saying this, Urmila had walked out of the canteen, running toward the hostel with a grief that had no remedy. In her tear-filled eyes, every word of hers felt like it was coming true.

But as he walked past the darkness toward the light, Himavant’s steps suddenly began to quicken. Once he was very close to the light, he turned around abruptly, looked at both of them, and smiled slightly. "You both look good together!" There was no distortion in his voice. He placed two chairs on the veranda and had them sit side by side. He looked at them both to his heart's content. "The pair looks good," he told himself, then immediately went inside and brought them some fruits and cow’s milk, placing them in front of them.

He went back inside, laid out a bed for both of them in the room, spread the blankets, lit a lamp with very dim light, and as he came out, said, "It is very late. You should sleep now." Seeing that the fruits and the milk in the glasses remained untouched on the plate, he took them away, placed them in their bedroom, locked the front door of the stone house, and walked alone into the darkness. They had neither the courage to stop him nor to follow him. As soon as they stepped into the bedroom, Prarthana began to sob uncontrollably; Debu had no strength left to console her.

By the time they both woke up the next morning, half of Himavant's day was already over. He had milked the cow, prepared everything needed for breakfast, boiled water, made coffee, and was ready to leave. Waiting for them to wake up, he paced on the veranda for a while, and then, for some reason, came out and stood silently in front of Debu’s Mercedes car.

'Tell me the reason,' he stood there like stone. He must have left Davangere that very morning; the dust from the journey seemed to have dulled the color of that expensive car. He suddenly went and brought two large buckets of water, washed the Mercedes until it glistened like a child of the sun, and wiped it clean with his own dhoti. After finishing his bath and eating breakfast, he emerged from the stone house dressed in crisp clothes. Debu was smiling even more than Prarthana. "He is the right one!" Channarayapatna exclaimed to himself. As the two of them walked toward the car, Prarthana exclaimed once more, "You look great!" She bowed and touched his feet in reverence. Himavant stood impassively, like a tree that had endured a lightning strike. When shaking Himavant’s hands, which were as rough as tree bark, Debu’s palms were sweating; they were trembling. Neither of them spoke. Debu started the car, and Prarthana sat in the passenger seat. For some reason, suddenly, the cute white calf named Prarthana in the backyard of the stone house let out a tragic, mournful cry, "Ambaaa!" Prarthana began to cry. As the car pulled out of the open field of Gadikoppa and turned toward Shivamogga, she looked back once. Himavant was still standing there, like a lonely boat. It seemed as if his entire body was trembling as if it were about to shatter. The moment the car was about to disappear from sight, his right hand rose and fluttered feebly in the air. One word, one syllable, one sentence had remained stuck in his throat. It was a question that Himavant, as a man, had chosen to remain silent about, as if he could never ask the girl he loved ever again. "Tell me the reason?" He would never ask. After the car disappeared, for some reason, his body suddenly felt light, blood circulation began again, his fingertips grew warm, and everything seemed to return to a state of normalcy. As if he had decided long ago, Himavant went inside that same stone house. Without succumbing to any emotional outburst, he opened the lock of the iron chest. He didn't have to search for anything before his eyes. For how many years, months, weeks, and days had he been looking at that same iron chest? Every corner of it was familiar; he knew exactly where every object was kept. With both hands, he lifted that small bundle out of the chest. Once he untied it and looked at everything inside to his heart's content, only then did his lips tremble.

Tears welled up in his eyes, but unable to control his agitation, Himavant suddenly stepped out of the house. Picking up a shovel that had been left by the door—kept specifically for the construction of 'Prarthana Hospital'—he reached the mound. He began digging briskly. Within fifteen minutes, a pit large enough to bury the bundle was ready. For a moment, he felt tempted to open it and look at the contents one last time, but his mind, bound by turmoil, restrained him. With caution, he lowered the bundle into the pit. He pushed the soil in, first handful by handful, then shoveling it rapidly. Within half a minute, the pit was filled and leveled.

"Mother's silk saree, a small gold mangalsutra, a pair of pearl earrings, and the silver idol of Krishna that she used to worship with such affection—I had thought that was enough for our wedding," a sigh escaped his lips. He descended the mound quickly and drew a bucket of water from the well to bathe. He wondered if he would feel better if he sobbed loudly like he did at night, but the tears would not come. He thought of meeting Urmila, but worried that he might lose his composure. going to Shantappa’s house, thinking she might be studying for her exams, but then remembered that Nandakka was not there. Kaveramma’s, but that reminded him of the Davanagere talk.

He wondered if he should just go to Channarayapatna. Who was there for him? He asked himself, "Is this all there is to my world? No matter where I set out for, doesn't every journey lead me back to Prarthana? Haven't I done absolutely nothing in these two and a half years that wasn't related to her? How small love makes the world!" As he sat asking himself these questions and talking to himself, something shifted within him. Suddenly, Himavant began to crawl from the veranda into the inner room—just dragging himself like a spider, like a multi-legged insect, like a wounded animal, like a crippled child. He seemed to have forgotten that he was even a human being. A strange sound, like a bizarre, wheezing laughter, emanated from his lungs. Crawling like a mentally challenged child, he reached the iron box and pulled its door open with a jarring sound. As he looked at the items inside, a peculiar light sparkled in his eyes.

(Page 239)

...hair; undergarment; a half-eaten candy of hers, the spot where Prarthana stood = a piece of her saree pallu and her clear photograph. Smooth, Prarthana was smiling; like moonlight... He placed his palm over it, plunging it into darkness. Then he saw a shadow at the door. When Himavant turned around suddenly, what he saw was Rasool Jamadar!

Only after Rasool Jamadar left did Himavant feel a little relieved. In a single word, he had sent him back just as he stood at the door. "I'll meet you another day!" The voice of the man who said this was distorted. Himavant had gestured for him to leave immediately; in their two-and-a-half years of association, Rasool Jamadar had never seen Himavant in such a state. And why just him? Himavant himself himself condition. Is it possible for a man, once so tall, so healthy, and so robust, to become like this in a single night? Especially a man like Himavant? What love had enabled an orphan boy selling sweets like Himavant to become an adventurer who could build such a wonderful town on the barren plains of the railway station—that same love could also reduce that Himavant in a single night to a worm who couldn't even sell sweets, one who had forgotten how to behave like a human—how could that retired police jamadar know that? The light had faded from Himavant’s eyes. His hair was disheveled, and he felt as exhausted as if someone had sucked out all the strength from his body, leaving him limp. Was this betrayal? Injustice? Loss? Or was this his first death? Unable to reach any conclusion, Himavant felt that if he moved his limbs, it would be like a giant worm writhing; his inner self had become like the body of a child that had remained stunted no matter how many years had passed since birth. Many hours after the sun had grown strong, he remembered that he had not eaten anything, and that he hadn't eaten anything since the moment Prarthana had set foot on these plains. But there was no sign of hunger; if he just sat like this, he could remain in this stone house for days on end without eating anything, without speaking to anyone, and in the end, without even speaking to himself.

The blood and marrow in my body might melt away and dissolve while sitting here; even my skin piece by piece and discharge, I wouldn’t know. But life, now, is only a memory; it will not return. The reason is that it has already departed towards Debu. For a while, I sat crouched like a worm in front of the iron box—why, I don’t know. Everything felt repulsive, so I crawled towards the front room. Prarthana had been here. She who was here is no longer here; physically, she is gone. Could it be that she was so terrified that she transformed the very environment she sat in? If Prarthana were still sitting here, wouldn't she have felt the same despair? What was her state of mind? Who knows? If she were right before my eyes, would I have questioned everything? Even Debu—had my love become so weak? Weak enough to endure being in Debu’s embrace? I don’t know. Perhaps it is not weakness. When one loves deeply, one inevitably falls into such compromises. If a husband, having lived for years, suddenly brings home some other woman, doesn't the wife endure it? If she were in front of me, I could have managed somehow. Sooner or later, I would have turned her back towards me. Love does not go empty. Can she, who defied me and left for Debu, not return to me? Prarthana is still young, innocent, and unaware of the world; she has made all these decisions without knowing. She must understand that Himavant’s love is greater than the infatuation with Debu. At the very least, she must realize that Himavant’s world is much smaller than Debu’s, and in it, there is no place for any soul other than Prarthana’s. If she realizes even that much, it is enough; Prarthana will return. When will she come? I do not know. Will she return someday? If she comes, will I accept her? My mind wavered. Didn't I accept Prarthana alone when she came walking from the outskirts of Channarayapatna to this very bus stand? Did only because she was alone and empty-handed? Wasn't there selfishness in that acceptance too? "My Prarthana, my friend, my Prarthana, my girl"—the one who would become my wife in every sense I imagined; my doctor. Doesn't that mean I am very selfish? Don't I love her deeply? Love, after all, is nothing but selfishness...

Are they two sides of the same coin? Or a deception? My life for these past two and a half years—for her, solely for her. If so, was all of that selfishness? I had set everything aside—a house for her; a hospital swing in the cow within a shelter calf for her... Was doing all that selfish? No, I did all that for her with the same devotion a human has for their God. God is a hypocrite. God is selfish; he accepts everything, yet bestows nothing. miser. God is merciless. bastard! No, Prarthana is a bitch! From today, from this very moment, I must hate her! As soon as he decided that, Himavant felt disappointed for some reason. It felt as if a small spark of energy surged through his body. The anger that had started small spread throughout his body in no time. He stood up abruptly; there was no trace of the early morning weakness in his legs. It felt like everything was under his control. He walked to the backyard, untied the calf, and milked the cow. For some reason, he made coffee with great care and drank it. The sun seemed to be blazing. Instead of switching on the electric water heater, he felt like lighting a traditional stove and taking an oil bath. As he sat down to light the stove, he suddenly remembered something; he ran quickly, opened a cupboard door, and brought out a bundle of Prarthana’s letters that he had kept with the utmost care for two and a half years. He didn't even feel like reading them one more time. He began tossing them into the stove’s fire with great devotion. Only when he was about to push the very last letter into the fire, his hand trembled. Prarthana had written the single line, "Can anyone ever deceive God?" all across the letter. "I don't know. God becomes a demon, Prarthana!" Himavant said to himself in a loud voice and threw that last letter into the water stove too. By the time it was completely burnt to ash and every letter of Prarthana’s had melted and evaporated, a strange, unprecedented energy surged through Himavant's body. If love, the kind of love that exists, takes an entire night to reduce a grown man to a mere worm, then doesn't it take only a few minutes for the petty feeling of hatred—consisting of only two and a half letters—to fill that same man, who was in a helpless, exhausted state, with titanic strength? Truly, I... so wholeheartedly Prarthana...

Do I hate? I asked myself. If it is true that I loved with all my heart, then yes; and that is the right decision, I concluded. By the time the realization reached me from head to toe, it was as if I had taken a purifying bath. Standing naked in the bathroom, Himavant looked at himself for a moment. He had never been intimate with a woman, and he never would be. Until now, apart from Prarthana, he had not loved any other woman, nor would he. There was no room left in his body and mind for love, only for hate. It was as if the word 'woman' had been cancelled out. 'I hate women,' he decided, and taking a clean jubba from the cupboard, he put it on.

He stood in front of the mirror with great devotion. Only a few hours ago, his face had been devoid of any expression, without even a trace of an indelible mark of grief. "You shouldn't be like this, Himavant!" he told himself as he looked at his reflection. He closed the door, locked the main gate, and noticing that work had begun in the open field behind his house in Gadikoppa, he pushed his moped and set off towards Shivamogga. As he rode, he monitored his mind to see if it would wander, but by the time he reached Shivamurthy Circle, he felt lighter and happier than he had for the past two and a half years. For the first time, he realized that hate had this kind of power.

However, in the eyes of Shanthappa, who met Himavant, there were questions for the first time. Just the day before, Prarthana had come looking for Himavant. A few hours after that, Deebu had come. Shanthappa had given them the Gadikoppa address and sent them away. Now Himavant had come. Having arrived, Himavant did not even exchange pleasantries. He had no answer when asked about Prarthana. Standing on the veranda without even entering, he had said, "I need one lakh rupees. Right away."

"Isn't that my own money? I will give it to you. Wait, maybe Prarthana needed it, come inside and sit, brother," Shanthappa’s words did not seem to reach Himavant’s ears. He took the bag of money Shanthappa brought from the inner room and left without even saying a 'thank you'. Himavant's behavior like his usual self. Just two...

Within a few hours, Himavant, the boy who used to sell sweets, had purchased an acre-wide field in Gadicappa. On that land, he had signed a deal to build an incredibly rare, massive layout that no rich man in Shivamogga could have even imagined in his wildest dreams. Two and a half years ago, he had pleaded with an architect to prepare the blueprint for Prarthana Layout; now, he went to the same architect, placed a bundle of twenty thousand rupees on his table, and said, "I need the layout design by this evening." He had gone and given a fifty-thousand-rupee advance to the farmer who sold the barren land. To the stone-cutters, the road pavers, those installing electric poles, and those bringing in laborers—he had given small advances to everyone. Knowing Himavant’s name and the reputation of the Prarthana Layout he had raised in two and a half years, no one discussed money with him. No one asked when he would pay the large sums. But the architect preparing the map for the new layout asked without hesitation: "What name will you give Himavant?" "Prarthana!" Himavant finished saying without even a second thought. Later, he wondered to himself if such a name had even crossed his imagination. By afternoon, all those dealings were quickly finished. He got on his moped and started toward Gadicappa, but for some reason, as he was coming down Nehru Road, he changed his mind. He left the moped on the side of the road and walked into a clothing store with a leisurely gait. "New clothes for a new life!" an exclamation escaped his lips. The salesman at the clothing store looked up, as if he did not understand what he had said. Himavant did not reply. When he stepped out of the store, he was carrying ten sets of the most attractive, expensive clothes. Walking a little further down the same road, he bought well-crafted leather sandals and an expensive pair of boots. Do clothes change a man? Do they change his world? He did not know. But the world looks at a man’s clothes, and a man should keep changing his clothes! He felt satisfied when he told himself that. A man who never had anything before, he sat with such satisfaction that day, getting a neat haircut, with a face devoid of worry.

He trimmed his overgrown beard. He went to his favorite restaurant and ate to his heart's content, as if he had been starving for days. While eating curd rice, he didn't even remember Prarthana. He walked out after telling himself a small lie. It was already afternoon. He came to the stone house and lay down, but sleep did not come. He could not understand if it was because of sorrow or the excitement of a new life. For the first time in two and a half years, everything he was doing now was for himself. This dream was entirely private. It had no partners. In this dream, there was no Prarthana, no hospital, no deity in the sanctum sanctorum, and no partnership with Shantappa in business. In fact, there wasn't even another person’s name here. Is my mother alive? If she isn't alive, then for whom am I doing all this? As he asked himself this, a drop of water, the size of a rangoli dot, welled up in his eyes. He felt that despite wandering everywhere, returning from everywhere, and conquering everything, the question eventually ends up right back where it started. He suddenly felt that he might even lose the life he had continued solely to hate Prarthana. He thought of opening the iron box once more. His mind did not agree. "God, let me not forget this hatred. I have already lost in love; let me at least win in hatred," his inner self prayed. He woke up in the evening, washed his face, and wore new clothes. Though he had not decided where to go, he thought of stepping out of the house. As he reached the front door, something felt like a stone shifting in Himavant’s heart. He had suddenly found a strong reason to hate Prarthana until the very end: Urmila was standing in the courtyard!

He was dressed in brand-new clothes, which he had worn with great care. He had put on soft socks on both feet and had tied the laces of one shoe. He was about to reach for the other lace when he saw Urmila. Even though he exclaimed, "What a surprise!" in this open space, in his mind, he thought that he should have been left alone today.

Urmila stood at the door of the stone house, watching him. She felt that the surprise was not on her face. When Prarthana came to Davangere, she had come with the intention of telling Debu something about Himavant. The moment she got out of the car and ran into the hostel zone, crying out, "Urmila Didi," and sobbing into her arms, Urmila had felt that something terrible had happened. Debu had sent word from the visitors' room; she had no enthusiasm to get up and go see him, yet she had laid the sobbing Prarthana on the bed and gone. Standing at the door of with guilty eyes, Debu Babu did not say much. "Urmila, every time I come to stand before you like this, I am a culprit. This time too, father. Prarthana will give you the details; please console her. She is badly hurt. I knew this would happen. But Prarthana did not listen to me. She went alone. I just followed her."

"Did you go to that Shivamogga that you stumbled upon that day?" Urmila had asked abruptly. He had nodded as if to say yes. Urmila had returned to her room as if she could not stand there for even one more moment. She did not need any explanation from Prarthana. Because, once she knew that the two of them had been to the fields of Gaadikoppa, Urmila could imagine the kind of devastation that might have occurred there. She tried to console Prarthana, who was crying as if her heart would break, but suddenly she fell silent, thinking that one shouldn't console those who have been destroyed.

In fact, it seemed Himavant did not react at all. At first, he acted as if the things Prarthana told him were not even registered in his mind or thoughts. He spoke like someone who had lost all sense of rhythm. Later, he stayed silent as if nothing had happened. He had collapsed on the wounds and mounds of Gaadikoppa, crying, but then recovered immediately and walked away. He laid out the bedding for these two, put away the vessels, and washed Debu’s feet. "It is not all that, Urmila Didi. Why are you doing this? leaving me? marrying him?"—the words that even Prarthana could not ask, Himavant asked as if someone else was speaking through his throat. He did not drag her or stop her; he simply went silent like a helpless child who sits quietly when someone leaves. I...

"Tell me, Urmi, isn’t that the very reason I am terrified? Will Himavant do something to himself? If such a thing were to happen, I could never live in peace. Urmi, I am truly a sinner," Prarthana said, beginning to cry again.

"Let Prarthana cry, let Prarthana die. May her life become so unbearable that she can never live happily!" Urmila thought of cursing her, but instead, she just left her alone. Before setting out for Channarayapatna, she packed a bag with a few clothes.

"Look Prarthana; I am telling you today. You shouldn't have taken the decision to marry Debu after leaving Himavant. Of course, that was your personal decision, but you could have let Himavant live, even if it was based on the lies you told him, for a few more days. You were in too much of a hurry. You acted too ruthlessly. Just for your own comfort, to lighten your own guilt, you killed the dreams of a man like Himavant in a single night.

I’m telling you today what I had kept hidden until now—listen. Without you knowing, I have gone to Shivamogga many times. I have seen with my own eyes the many stages of the 'Prarthana Layout' that Himavant was dreaming of. He is a great dreamer. More than that, human being. To decide that in this world, there is only one girl for him, and to build dreams based solely on her—that is only possible for boys like Himavant. It is not something people like me or you can do.

Look, I have noticed how much you have changed from the day you arrived until today. But you haven't meeting Himavant has changed me. It has been months since I had a drink or smoked a single cigarette. How you could leave a man like Himavant and head toward this disease called Debu—I still don't understand. Whether you get love or not is your personal matter, but if I were in your place, I would never have turned to look at a man like Debu, let alone a dog like Rasool Jamadar!

Debu just left after trying to console you. The necessity to be consoled isn't yours; it’s Himu's!"

Urmila walked out without stopping, her voice steady and devoid of fluctuations. Whatever she said, until she reached Shivamogga, there was only one restless thought: Himavant did not have a weak personality. But would he do something to himself? No, he wasn't that...

Tell Me Before You Go / 241

It was getting late; still, after getting off at Shivamogga and taking an auto to the plains of Gadikoppa, by the time she reached the courtyard of the stone house, her heart was beating uncontrollably—what state would Himavant be in when he faced her? How could she console him? Standing before the door, she had never imagined that Himavant would confront her with such surprise, in such neat attire and posture. He didn't even ask, "Why are you leaving by deceiving me?" What does it mean to be stoic? The cold detachment in Himavant's eyes felt more frightening than any situation she had imagined.

In the meantime, Himavant stood up, placed a chair in the soft light of the veranda, asked Urmila to sit, and went inside the house. He came out carrying a steel glass filled with sweetened milk. Even though no words were exchanged between them, the instruction, "Drink this milk; let's go out for a while," was understood in his silence.

Urmila got up, went to the washroom, and washed her face. While drying her face in the backyard, she saw the calf standing in the shed staring at her with wide eyes, and remembering that its name was 'Prarthana', she felt as if her heart was being wrung.

"It's quite far, but let's walk. It will be a bit dark by the time we return. It doesn't matter; darkness is better than light. Even if it is a deception, it is not visible to the eye. Let's go!"

Himavant, who had locked the door of the stone house and started walking, had spoken his first words. After exiting the plains of Gadikoppa, he did not turn towards Shivamogga but began leading Urmila in the exact opposite direction. Try as she might, Urmila could not bring herself to ask about the matter. There was no briskness in their walk. After walking for a long time, the forest on both sides of the road began to thicken.

"See, from here begins my new authority and my new ego. In just a few days, I will come here from Gadikoppa. I will have a new layout made. With just bamboos, I will make a small estate for myself right here in the middle of the forest. I will build a small, hut-like house. Within the next three months, I will buy a car. The next time I come to Davanagere, I will come by car. This is the beginning of my second dream, the start ego. Do you see that small board there? It's getting dark already. Go a little closer and take a look."

Urmila, who had walked four steps further than the point she had pointed to earlier, saw two swords that looked as if they had been carved with a wooden stylus on a stone wall just a few hours ago. For some reason, for the first time in her life, the darkness felt terrifying to Urmila. If Himavant hadn’t been standing a short distance away, the rustling of the tree branches, the eerie cry of an anonymous bird perched at the tip, and the silence spreading through the night would have killed her, she felt. Urmila walked hurriedly towards Himavant, who was standing by the road, and without a second thought, hugged his shoulder.

Urmila is scared! Himavant said to himself. He held her palm and signaled courage with his fingers. He was once again certain that the touch of a woman could no longer stir any other desire in him. Even as she hugged his shoulder, he led her back along the deserted road. It had become dark like this in the middle of the road before reaching Arsikere. Prarthana used to hug his shoulder like this, hold his fingers tight, and walk with the same sense of insecurity. It had been two and a half years since all that happened. It will be hundreds of years like this; I will keep walking on such paths without lights. Someone or other, scared of the darkness, will keep hugging my shoulder. Whoever hugs me, I remember Prarthana. Only Prarthana.

He thought, "Do you think Prarthana is leaving you for money, for cars and bungalows, Himavant?"

After walking a short distance, she moved away from the shoulder she had been hugging, pulled her fingers away, mustered the courage from somewhere deep inside, and asked, "Urmila, now you and I... I don't think anything. I don't ask anything. Just like that, you suddenly hugged my shoulder. Just like you suddenly left me once before. You are the one who has to give a reason; I don't have the right to imagine or ask, do I, Urmila? As for the matter of Prarthana, I feel ask her for a reason. All I have is the memory. And wait for the day she herself begins to speak. Even if it takes a hundred years, I am just waiting, hoping she will leave with a reason."

As he stopped speaking, the forest by the side of the road rustled, as if trying to listen to his words and the expressions on his face.

It was not possible in the darkness. Likewise, the conversation ended there. As Himavant began to walk toward Urmila, Prarthana could not think of any other questions to ask him. She felt it would be impossible to discuss that subject with Himavant again. A proud man who had closed the doors of his heart! "Himavant, if you don't mind, I would like to stay with you for a few days. I have exams; I will go to Davangere tomorrow to bring my clothes and books. on the days of my exams, write them, and come back. I will just study quietly and stay with you, please." Urmila spoke, surprised herself at how those words had come to her so suddenly. Himavant did not answer. She had exams that day as well; she hadn't even been in a state to bring her own books and clothes. He had brought them himself. To ensure she wouldn't stay awake, he would stay awake with her, reading something. She would go and write her exams, and he would drop her off. Sometimes she would study on her own. He had stirred up the dreams himself. Urmila was now saying she would come and stay with him for a few days. He understood her love and her deep concern, but the one thing Urmila herself did not understand was that every attempt she made to help him forget Prarthana only reminded him of Prarthana. Not just her; no matter which girl in the world came and told him she would stay with him, he would only remember Prarthana, and it would only increase his hatred toward her. As far as this life was concerned, that was the ultimate truth. As the darkness deepened, Urmila held Himavant’s hand and walked on. Even after reaching the outskirts of Gadi Koppa, he did not answer the question Urmila had asked. Therefore, Urmila had decided that even if he said no, it was best for her to come and stay with Himavant for a few days—in this open field, in the forest, or wherever he was. However, a few hours after eating and falling asleep, Himavant woke up without waking Urmila. Just like the first day, he crawled toward the iron trunk, using both his hands and legs like a clean-limbed person. If Urmila had seen the expression on his face at that moment, her decisions would have changed that very day!

Himavant’s eyes were fearsome. They were like the eyes of a vile sage prepared to pour down the curse of a helpless creature. His posture was strange; it did not look like a posture natural to a human being, but rather like that of a wild beast deciding from which end to start devouring its prey. His hands were shaking slightly. Deep inside, he remained conscious of the fact that Prarthana was sleeping in the room. Why was Himavant trying to open the iron safe? Why had he collected all those lethal materials with such dedication in that short period? Did he have a premonition that one day, Prarthana would betray him, destroy his entire empire, and leave without even offering a reason? He certainly did not have any such premonition. Only Ajjayya—who had sat by the throne in the cave at the side of the hill until he was worn out and weary—had known. It was true that Himavant had been searching for him, but in the end, it was Ajjayya who had come looking for him. The marks of death were clearly written on his face; even Himavant had felt that he would not live for many more days. By then, Ajjayya could not even swallow food. Occasionally, a scream-like belch would escape him. When Ajjayya yawned, it sounded like a beast crying out in a low, guttural tone. On a new moon night, he had woken Himavant up and taken him to the mound. "Why do I need all this, Ajjayya? Who to kill? Is this even a skill worth learning? It’s a vile practice," Himavant had said. "Where was the need for me, son? Didn't your father have this? Maataada Hirannayya? He brought it and left it at my feet. I practiced this for so many years, and what did I get? You know yourself how long I will live now that death has marked me. I am leaving both the good and the bad to you. Just go once a year; on the day of the new moon, light a lamp before the throne, bow your head to the throne, and sit there. I have made separate arrangements for the daily worship there; just provide six hundred rupees for the lamp expenses. When Hirannayya’s son comes to light the lamp before the throne on the day of the new moon, people from the surrounding areas will come and gather. Do that much as a favor; don't let it be said that it stopped."

"You said it is a form of knowledge, right? Surely, some part of it will be useful to you," [he said, as he] drew the lines of a rangoli on the mound of earth with his fingertips.

After finishing the ritual, he pierced something like a thorn into the soft cartilage behind Himavant’s ears and made him chant a mantra eight thousand times in three stages. How much time does it take to learn the art of total destruction? "Should I destroy Prarthana?" Himavant asked himself. For some reason, he felt that even his inner voice might be heard clearly and Urmila might wake up. "Am I afraid of Urmila, then?" he asked himself. A crooked smile appeared on his lips. "I don’t even know the meaning of the word 'fear.' Until now, the only thing I have feared is love." But the word 'love' had lost its meaning. All that remained in him was the alertness of a killer; a cruel vigilance that he must not get caught. "Urmila must not know that I am doing all this." What if she does? finds out? She wouldn’t be able to stop it, but the image she has built of him in her mind would be shattered, and that must not happen. "So, should I destroy Prarthana? Today? If not today, then when?" Is this the only way to destroy her? "I could just go straight to Davanagere and finish it in one blow, couldn't I?" He could have done it that night when she was here. Physically, he was much stronger than Debu; it wouldn't have been difficult to kill them both. But he didn't. Police, court, jail—no, none of that scared him. That imprisonment is not imprisonment, and this freedom is not freedom. His mind is burnt to a crisp; love no longer remains there. Only hatred stands as the harvest. Now, his only desire is that Prarthana should not be happy. If he kills her, is it over? With her, joy and her sorrow both disappear, and so does her betrayal! Therefore, Prarthana must not die. She must live, suffering every second, until the very last moment! That was what Himavant was deciding.

That night, in another place, Prarthana was lying alone on her bed in the hostel room, staring up at the ceiling, remembering everything that had happened. What had become of her life? Where had it begun and come to a standstill? I am the one who, disgusted after seeing my father sleeping with my sister-in-law in the courtyard house, left home and came to Shivamogga with a god-like man named Himavant. What happened that day?

Just as he had looked at Appa and the sister-in-law, Debu and me today—that was the feeling. The question of whether he was any different from Appa did not even cross his mind. Himavant felt it would have been better if he had tied me down himself. Before he could even think that, Debu came to mind. The love for him was pure. He was mine, only mine. If there were no property, no status, no beauty; would I have loved Debu even without those? Wealth, status—none of these exist in Himavant, and perhaps that is the very reason I turned towards Debu. If a situation were to arise where Debu suddenly had none of these, could I change my mind? Would I still love him then? Yes... I would love him. Now, life, wealth, status, and respect—all of these belong to Himavant and are dedicated to him. If he were to lose them suddenly, would my love turn towards him again? No... he is a god; I worship him even today. With that, Prarthana reached a decision; her love for Debu became even more intense. After visiting Himavant—especially after seeing him in that state—there had been a small anxiety that a fondness for him might arise in her again and that she might change. That fear subsided. He would always be a god, and I will worship the god, she thought and closed her eyes.

Urmila, who had woken up in the morning and sat chanting slokas, came to the backyard and saw Himavant sitting there, hugging a calf, stroking its body, and feeding it tender, light green grass. Thinking, "Isn't this calf's name Prarthana?", she cautioned herself not to accidentally say that name out loud. However, unaware that Urmila was standing behind him, Himavant, in an extremely gentle and affectionate voice, said, "Prarthana..." As he said it, he leaned forward and kissed the calf's cheek. The bell around its neck tinkled softly. The mother cow suddenly turned and looked. "How innocently a man who loves can love, Himavant! At most, one becomes a husband. But your personality is different: you become a friend, a mother, a relative, a god, a guru, a guide... you become everything," Urmila said.

Himavant turned around suddenly and asked, "When are you going to your hometown?" Urmila was startled.

Not at all, look at his eyes. They were not just the eyes of someone sleep-deprived; what kind of eyes were those, Himu? But what is visible today is not what I saw then. For some reason, Himavant looks agitated and sorrowful. She had come with the intention of staying with him for a few days, comforting him, and returning to her studies once his mind was under control. But now, she is feeling afraid. He does not look like a sorrowful man; those are not the eyes of a person who has lost someone. He is behaving as if he is someone who cannot stand the presence of human beings, cannot bear the shadow of a woman. Himu was never like this before. There is nothing more terrifying than a person like Himavant becoming a misanthrope. It is as if his words have dried up and his mind has died. Is this happening because of the shock Prarthana left him with? Does Himavant need treatment? This time, when returning from Davangere, she thought she should speak with the psychiatry professor, Rudrappa.

"When are you leaving?" Himu asked again.

"Look, Himavant, my exams start in ten days. I have already finished reading quite a lot, and there is nothing much left to attend to in terms of classes. All that is left is to sit and study. Even if you say no, I will not listen. I will go to Davangere today, get my clothes and books, and come back. and return on the days of the exams. Not for your sake, Himavant; for my own sake, I need to stay here for a month. Don't say that I shouldn't be here since I am the one who has gotten us involved," she said.

Himavant did not speak. Only when she stood ready to leave for town did he come to the edge of the porch, and said, "Don't feel bad. I have no objection if you want to come and stay."

Urmila suddenly turned back, held his hand tightly, squeezed it, leaned forward, and kissed his forearm. In the backyard of the stone house, a calf mooed loudly. *Amba!* Had an unspoken love sprouted?

After that, some events took place in Davangere. By the time Urmila returned from Shivamogga, Prarthana had already moved all of her things from the hostel room to somewhere else, and Urmila was preparing to permanently move to Debu’s house in Channarayapatna. She did not feel like talking to her about anything, even though they had been friends for two years and she was younger than her. Right or wrong?

Tell me the reason for leaving / 254

Having reached a decision and stepping toward a new life, she wondered if the life she had rejected could become her own. Who really knows the outcome of life? Why such harsh words? Urmila, who had treated her like a younger sister all this time, melted into tears as she held her when she was leaving. Sobbing, she said, "I'm leaving, Didi. Your love will always..." Urmila became tearful as well. Weeping, she said, "You fool, would my love ever change? May your life turn to gold. Build your life beautifully. Love Debu as much as you want, but don't imitate him. They say the lives of those whose first love has broken experience the most happiness in their second. Be happy. The more you value Debu in your love, the better he will look after you and love you. Life is like that. At times, I have spoken out of turn and said things because I lost control; do not keep those things in your heart. Tell Debu that I said the same to him. Prepare well for your exams. Write them well. Once everything is over, the three of us will go to a restaurant in Debu's car, eat to our hearts' content, and return. No drinking! From now on, you shouldn't drink either!"

Urmila’s eyes were filled with tears as she said this. Prarthana hugged her tightly as if she were hugging her own mother. After she left with her luggage, Urmila felt very empty. The only consolation she had was that she, too, would be vacating the room in a day. Her life thereafter would be in the open fields of Gadekoppa.

While packing her clothes, she wondered—what was she feeling? She went to the city and bought half a dozen cotton sarees. Was it to impress Himavant? She didn't know. He had never objected to her wearing jeans. Still, she felt he might like her in a saree. Why? Urmila didn't know.

After packing her books and clothes, and after the events of the month unfolded, once she went to Shivamogga, two strange things happened in Davangere regarding Prarthana. Those incidents were so trivial that Debu and she did not take them seriously. It was a Saturday morning, around seven o'clock, when someone knocked on the door. Sujay was still sleepy when he got up to unbolt the door. The figure standing outside said, "Debanna, they say you need to give the clothes..."

Sujay stared at him intently; he had never seen him before. "Who are you?" he asked indifferently. "The one who is Swami Debanna's younger brother. I am the one who washes his clothes. Dhobi Thimma has settled down here, right? That Debanna left some clothes here, he said, behind the lodge," the stranger said. That is why I came. Debu had left the room a long time ago. If they met, there was nothing more than a 'hi-bye' exchanged, so Sujay thought there might be a couple of his own clothes left in the cupboard. He thought, "If any are left, let him take them," and as he moved his hand toward Debu's cupboard, he stopped and went back to lying down. Sujay realized much later that the dhobi had taken one of his own sets of clothes along with the three sets of Debu's that Thimma had shown him. He thought, "I will ask him whenever we meet," and kept quiet.

In Shivamogga, Debanna was met on the road. When the figure standing at the door asked if he needed to give away dirty clothes, Prarthana was surprised at first. Then, a doubt pricked her like a thorn, but it faded away for some reason. She was surprised because the man standing at the door resembled 'someone' she had seen. Scruffy beard, slightly squinted eyes, and a terrifying limp while walking; he was a man with no similarities to the dhobi Thimma. When he called Debu "Debanna," she couldn't hold back her laughter. After he left taking the clothes, when it occurred to her, "Doesn't the man who just came look so much like Rasool Jamadar from Shivamogga?" a thorn of suspicion rose suddenly in Prarthana’s mind, only to fade away as time rolled by. Although Debu, Sujay, and Prarthana spoke separately about a stranger coming and stealing old clothes, the fact that both Debu and Sujay's inner garments had vanished along with the old clothes did not come to anyone's notice, until a blood-red rangoli was drawn in front of Prarthana’s house, and she stared at Sujay's clothes among the garments brought by Rasool Jamadar.

Himavant had said, "Whoever touches Prarthana should not remain alive!" As for how Himavant came to know about Sujay, or any other man for that matter, having been with Prarthana, it was she who had let it slip. Before she left, on a day when their minds were at ease before the exams, Debu, Prarthana, and Urmi had finished their meal at a dhaba. That day, while Prarthana was venting about some issue regarding Sujay, she had let it slip that both girls had vacated their room Prarthana, who had migrated to a small house, had poured out all her confusion to Debu, who sat there ready to study. There was no urgent need to study. He would sit and flip through his books once in the evening. After that, with Prarthana until the early hours of the morning, teaching her subjects. Even by mistake, they did not engage in anything else; because the pressure of the exams was so intense, neither of them had the focus. However, their relationship had grown deep. Once the confusion had cleared and they had grown closer to each other, Debu had said to her directly, "It feels as if a thorn has been removed from my throat, now that you have told Himavant directly! I know, he is a very good man; he loved you honestly. But you were the one who loved me! Whatever it may be, Prarthana, if any man finds out that his girl is acquainted with someone better than him, he is bound to be scared. You women melt easily for kindness."

"Aren't you a good person? There are so many good people in the world, but it is enough if my man is good to me. I have always liked your kindness, Debu Babu." Prarthana had ended the conversation that day, but she knew herself that there was no honesty in her words. Debu was not a better man than Himavant. He was a god; friend; mother; but Debu was the sum total of thousands of desires. He was her man. Still, she felt uneasy that he had called Himavant a "thorn in the throat." She was the one who had been a barbed-wire fence throughout Himavant’s entire life. Forgiving was not that easy. Perhaps due to the pressure of the exams, Prarthana was experiencing intense emotional turbulence.

Tell me the reason / 257

The insecurity, fear, and anxieties of the first two years were gone now. She was no longer afraid that he might just use her and throw her onto the streets. The anxiety of "what if Debu finds out about me and Babu" had ended. How much confidence can such a small thing instill in a woman? That is why she thought that peace of mind settles in only after the wedding engagement. In her innocence, she had no hint that in life, things could turn to dust. Debu was much calmer than she was. He did not even look at the house of the embroidery ladies in Channarayapatna anymore. The girl who until recently had seemed like just a girlfriend now felt completely like a wife. He sits with affection and teaches Prarthana lessons. On days when they go to bed very late, he wakes up early himself, makes coffee, and wakes her up. He has even learned to make simple lentil soup. Whether it is because he quit drinking or not, there is no longer that restlessness in his eyes. His eyes are soft; his speech is as sharp as ever. When they feel sleepy at night, they both hold hands and go for a walk on the road in front of the Gundi Chatra. Sometimes, they wake up at dawn, switch on the geyser, and get into the shower together without saying a word to each other. Prarthana undresses there with hesitation. She knows Debu no longer has the wolfish hunger he once had. He is assured that a physical relationship is an event that can happen anytime in the future with mutual consent. Therefore, he is not in a hurry. But in the soft light of the bathroom, he makes Prarthana stand and just stares at her. His eyes wander all over her, searching for something. Prarthana also knows what he is looking for, but the wounds inflicted by Sujay Malhotra had healed and faded long ago. Still, Debu searches for scars, like memories of those wounds. Perhaps he will keep searching for a lifetime. Whose curse is this?

I do not know how Debu received the news of what happened to Sujay Malhotra when the final exams were beginning. Prarthana, however, as soon as she heard about it, said to herself, "A dog's death!" Sujay, who was so arrogant, had suddenly lost his speech and become paralyzed. He was studying for his exams and had come out of his room at midnight to drink tea. While descending the stairs, he reportedly heard a bird cry out strangely from somewhere near the last step. It felt as if someone stood behind him on the very last step...

It was as if someone had pushed him, and Dhabala fell forward with a small shriek. He didn't speak. Was it paralysis? Did he have blood pressure? Was he in shock? There was no evidence for it. Sujay's eyes remained open, but he was unable to recognize anyone. His parents had arrived. College students gathered in the special ward of the hospital, but no one could determine exactly what had happened to Sujay. Would he survive? There were no movements of any kind in him. Only once, in the ward, he tried to say something and eventually let out a distorted moan. When his mother, sensing someone had come, stood up and looked out the window, she claimed to see a limping person hurrying out of the hospital. Prarthana, who had been listening to the other details about Sujay with indifference, became alert the moment she heard that the stranger had been limping. For a moment, the image of Rasool Jamadar, whom she had seen once in Shivamogga, flashed before her eyes; but how could that be related to Sujay's illness? She remained silent.

Debu looked somewhat melancholic. Whatever else, they had been friends sharing the same room for years. That someone so healthy was lying in such a bad condition troubled Debu. He would go to the ward to check on him frequently. He would console his parents. He would discuss Sujay's illness with the professors. He wanted to tell Prarthana everything he gathered, but for some reason, he would fall silent.

Finally, by the twenty-first day, it was decided to take Sujay from Davanagere to a hospital in Mumbai, because his right arm had begun to rot from the shoulder base. When seeing Sujay off as he was laid in the car, Debu's heart felt heavy, yet he was cheerful, just as one loves good people. Girls melt quickly whenever boys are in trouble; had Prarthana gone to the hospital to see Sujay? Without my knowledge? Debu, who had come to the doorstep, asked.

That day, for some reason, Prarthana set aside the book she was reading while sitting on the sofa, and without even noticing that the street door was open, she fell into Debu's arms and kissed him for a long time. As Sujay drifted away from their lives, a new joy settled upon them.

Tell me the reason / 259

It felt as though they had settled down. Prarthana would blossom with joy every time she passed an exam successfully, and Himavant would be happy for her. Even when they finished one after another, the day the doctor couple would return to India from America by plane kept appearing and disappearing before Prarthana's eyes. In the middle of the night, if she were studying, Himavant would lie in her lap like a young boy, searching for her navel. If they were just lying there, he would snuggle up to her and count the moles on her body. Just and girl who have reached puberty and don’t quite know what to do with their bodies, just looking at each other with longing—they were in that state. For Prarthana, that was the happiest time of her life; she didn’t even remember Himavant.

For Himavant, nothing existed but her. Mercy and cruelty, forgiveness and punishment, love and hatred; his mind oscillated between life and death. Sometimes, he would sit alone and weep. He would hug a pillow named Prarthana. He would bang his forehead against the walls of the stone house and wail. He would climb to the terrace of his old room, lie flat on his back, and shed tears all night long. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he would think, "I haven't sent money to Prarthana this month, have I?" and would rush to the bank and stand there. He would wonder if he could somehow prepare sweets and get them delivered to her. He would ask himself, "Does Prarthana remember me, just as I remember her?" It wasn't possible. "Those who leave kill the memories behind them, but for those who are left behind, only the memories of those who left remain!" he would tell himself. One night, Urmila was sitting in the inner room of the stone house, studying diligently for her exams. Every now and then, she would jot down notes on a small piece of paper. Himavant, who was sitting on the veranda, walked in as if in a trance and said, "Urmila, I need a pen." He leaned forward himself and picked up a sheet of paper. He sat near the leg of her table and wrote: "Prarthana, are you doing well? Is leaving someone this easy? I don't know how you are, as if you have died. If it were the old days, I would have had some peace of mind."

Tell me the reason / 260 I used to tell myself, 'In this world filled with so many people every single night, why must I be the only one awake? There are crores of people, isn't there one person who is mine? To her, I am the world; she is everything to me.' I kept telling myself this little consoling thought repeatedly. 'Prarthana is my whole world.' This one feeling was enough to live, to build your life, to weave millions of dreams. In your absence, how many thousands of hours did I spend talking to you? What happened to all those words, Prarthana? Today, in your world, I am nothing. Let it be; you didn't even leave me a world of my own. Does such a big betrayal deserve such a punishment, Prarthana? What sin did I commit, God? Himavant wrote this down hurriedly, and not knowing what to do with it, after a while, he turned to look at Urmila. She, who had been sitting on a chair, got up and came to sit beside Himavant. With an indescribable affection, she pulled him close, took him into her lap, and caressed his forehead. Then, the dam of sorrow broke! For the first time, Himavant acted so helplessly in front of Urmila; he fell and began to sob uncontrollably. Because of the intensity of his weeping, Himavant’s entire body was shaking. Urmila’s lap was soaked with tears. It felt as though his sorrow might not end tonight, this year, or even this lifetime. For hours continuously, until the fourth watch of the night, Himavant kept weeping. His strong body, having lost all its vitality, lay limp in Urmila’s lap. By the time the first ray of morning light hit the ground, Urmila got up, brought a large glass of water mixed with glucose, and fed it to Himavant. When he woke up, it was some time in the afternoon. Urmila was not at home, but there was a paper in front of him. "Dearest Himavant, I am leaving for the exam. You were asleep; I didn’t have the heart to wake you up. after touching your feet to my forehead in reverence. I will be on the bus to Shivamogga the day after the exam finishes. One word;"

"Tell me the reason / 20 | As far as the world is concerned, I may not be the first person. But you are the only person who has completely filled my emptiness. Prarthana: You are not God, Himavant. You are a very good human being. I have your letter; it will remain with me. Prarthana does not even have the right to read it, forgive me, I am Urmila!" Reading Himavant's letter repeatedly, by the time she returned that night, her mind had come to terms. After dinner, the two of them sat for a long time on a stone platform in the fields of Shivamogga. That was when she told him about Sujay. Only after that did the talk of Sujay fade away.

"How quickly can a girl change a man's life and turn it into a flower garden, right?" Urmila asked herself, looking at both of them. The exams for all three of them were over. It was not a farewell feast, yet, since a few days of vacation would pass before returning to college, they wouldn't see each other for a while. Thinking that, Prarthana, Debu, and Urmila had gathered at a dhaba near the outskirts that evening. That day, instead of Debu, Prarthana had driven the car. Debu, sitting in the passenger seat, wore a white kurta-pyjama. A dark brown bag hung over his shoulder. Although the fatigue of studying for exams was still in his eyes, since he had quit drinking for many days, the puffiness on his face had gone and he looked handsome. Prarthana had dressed very specially for that evening: a sleeveless blouse, a light blue chiffon saree, loose hair, a snake-shaped bindi on her forehead, a thin line of kohl for her eyes, and a jasmine flower in her braid. Urmila thought that if they were sitting side-by-side, they would have looked wonderful. Debu sat alone in the front seat, humming some unknown tune. She hadn't realized he could be so accustomed to Prarthana's driving. While talking, Prarthana was driving the car effortlessly. There was some joy on her face. Was this the same girl who sat in the hostel room on the first day, thinking of Himavant? The question, "How quickly can a girl change a man's life and turn it into a flower garden, right?" came to Urmila once again.

Saying "go" is easy, but then it occurred to her—a girl can just as easily turn a boy's garden-like life into a graveyard. Does a single girl have the power to achieve both dreams and destruction in one stroke? Doesn't she have just that? Urmila thought to herself. She remembered the half-built, dark-colored Prarthana Layout. Is that all? Is Himavant's entire life now ruined beyond repair? Can dreams never sprout there again? Urmila talked to herself. For a moment, she felt angry at Prarthana. What right does she have to be this happy? Whose grave did she pluck these flowers from to tuck into her hair? What is her "qualification" to be like this, anyway? Of course, Prarthana is not like me, someone who craved desires and lost all shame, someone who drank. She is not someone who smoked cigarettes incessantly like me. earned notoriety in college like me, nor someone who caught the eyes of thousands of boys. Even if she committed small mistakes, it was due to Debu’s company. Otherwise, where would Prarthana get the courage to drink wine? come out onto the Harihar road at midnight with someone like Sujay? From the society’s perspective, Prarthana is a "good girl"! She is the perfect girl for a rich, handsome man like Debu; someone who is visible to anyone's eyes.

But who has seen Himavant? Wasn't it for this very girl that he soaked his sweat and blood in money, only to send it to Davanagere? her that he would wake up at ungodly hours, pack a handful of sweets, and set off for Davanagere just as he stood? While he worried that drinking half a cup of coffee would mean less money to send to Prarthana, this girl would sit with Debu, drinking expensive liquor and stepping on his feet. While Himavant walked barefoot from the fields of the dark-colored layout to the markets of Shivamogga, she would sit leaning against Debu’s chest, learning to drive a car. While he was lost in dreams and hallucinations, naming an innocent calf 'Prarthana', she was celebrating by inscribing the name 'Prarthana Bandopadhyay' on the edges of her books. While Himavant collapsed on the mounds of mud, his chest bursting as he screamed 'Prarthana', Prarthana was moaning in pleasure within the embrace of Debu. What qualification does she have to enjoy a happy life? That is what Urmila thought.

--- ENGLISH TRANSLATION ---

Think about how interesting a subject it is to talk about reasons, Urmi. "For what reason does Prarthana go all the way to the dhaba kitchen to get Palak Paneer made, pestering the cook? She learned to drive the car herself for fear that if I drank, we might meet with a car accident. She might let me drink, but she never lets go of the car’s steering wheel. What a change she has brought into my life. If she hadn't, would I even have had the face to show myself to someone like you?" Debu asked in an honest tone.

Summoning courage, she replied, "It’s nothing like that, Didi. Every woman, no matter how foolish, takes joy in cooking what her husband likes. As for driving, I don't know why, but I’ve become quite obsessed with it, so I keep driving it; it's no big deal. After all, I am just a girl who came from a village called Bilisale near Channarayapatna. Today, they made me the daughter-in-law of such a big house and gave me a life beyond my imagination. From which end of the ladder to which end he brought me, Debu? He is greater than I am. What do you say?"

Prarthana had asked in an equally honest tone. "It is true, my friend; from this end of the ladder to that end. It is true that you have climbed the steps. But there was an innocent step in the middle. It was happy, thinking that your stepping on it was its good fortune. Without even saying a thank you to it, you trampled it and came to stand at the end of the ladder. In a sense, you are great too," Urmila thought to herself.

However, for some reason, even after seeing both of them so intimate and together that evening, Urmila’s attitude changed a lot. What Prarthana did might have been wrong, but what could be done? Does the heart listen to anyone? What was done to Himavant a terrible betrayal. But can it be said that Prarthana is unworthy of enjoying such a peaceful life? Only when one life collapses can another bungalow stand in its place. Himavant is indeed a very good person. But a man as intelligent as Debu needed Prarthana more. If she hadn’t taken his hand, what would have become of Debu by now? Besides, the decisions have already been made, haven't they? What is the use of blaming anyone now? It is unnecessary to analyze what is past. They are both intimate; they are also rare. Both of them know their own histories; they have loved each other knowing that. It’s done, isn't it? Let them be happy now.

It occurred to her: once dinner was finished, she would see them off to the bus stand near their house and make sure they boarded the bus to Shivamogga. She thought of taking an auto. She knew Himavant would not wait for her. He was not a person of this world; he would not remain as Himavant. She had thought of leaving early to spend more days with Himavant and try to set him right. She felt a responsibility towards him; but Prarthana would not let her go. As soon as dinner was over, Prarthana insisted that instead of leaving for Shivamogga at this odd hour and reaching at an inconvenient time, they should stay the night and leave in the morning. That seemed right to Urmila too. Besides, how long had it been since the three friends had come together like this? It felt as if no amount of talking would ever be enough.

After returning home at night, they sat down to talk again. They spent some time on the terrace. Under the dark sky, Prarthana, wearing a stark white nightie and leaning on Debu’s shoulder, sang two old Hindi songs. A flash of admiration flickered in Debu’s eyes; Prarthana had even learned some ghazals for his sake. She said, "Aren't we going to Hyderabad for the holidays tomorrow? There is a guru there who teaches ghazals. By the time college starts, I will come back having learned a lot of them."

Even though they came downstairs when it got too cold to sit on the terrace, it seemed the two friends’ conversation would not end that night. Debu was already sleepy. He went into the bedroom, switched off the lights, and went to bed. The two girls spread a mat in the hall, lay down; a quiet conversation continued. Neither of them showed any signs of sleep.

Then Prarthana sat up. "Urmi Didi, I have a question to ask you. May I?" she asked.

"Go ahead."

"Didi, you are going to Shivamogga tomorrow. You will stay there. You and Himavant will be together for so many days. You both will be in Gadikoppa. Just the two of you. Didi, don't feel bad that I asked you this—do you love Himavant?"

Urmila sat up abruptly. She had certainly not expected such a question from Prarthana. She knew her nature. She knew that Himavant had changed the very direction of her life. He was in unbearable pain; he was lonely. It was for that reason alone...

As a small remedy for her boredom and loneliness, Prarthana had gone to Shivamogga. Knowing everything, she was questioning Urmila about matters that were already clear. "Do you think I love Himavant, Didi?" Prarthana asked. Urmila countered with another question, "I don't know, Didi. But I do know that you want Himavant to be loved. It certainly doesn't feel like things will be alright anytime soon. I get anxious thinking about what he might do if he is left alone. He is very emotional. His only sister, Nandakka, has also left him. Apart from Shantappa, he has no one else, no friends. Rasool Jamadar doesn't understand everything. Even Ajjayya is no more. Apart from that, Himavant has no other world. He is not a man who yearns for material happiness; even clear water won't taste good in a place without love. You know how he behaves when he goes to Kaveramma’s house. I get scared thinking about it, Didi. If I leave him alone in such a vast field, I feel like I won't be able to go anywhere. Is he truly in love with me? I am the same; I cannot think of anything else. But Didi, who will take care of Himavant? Who understands him better than you? Who can console you?"

Urmila said, "I don't know what you think as a doctor. As a woman, I am confident that whoever stays with Himavant will be at peace until the end. It’s not just about you... I just hope Himavant forgets me and marries another girl. That way, this guilt that haunts me until I die... I couldn't bear it, that's why I asked. I had no other intention, Didi," said Prarthana.

Now Urmila understood why all the girls in the world wish for the boy they left behind to marry someone else. It wasn't just because they wanted him to be happy; it was to finish their own guilt by letting him go! What else? 'You got married too, didn't you? So, let's call it quits with an agreement that you stay happy there and I stay happy here.'

"Oh, how simple," Urmila thought. But if she had wished for him to remember her until the end, to die while thinking of her, maybe this girl Prarthana could have been considered honest. But she is not like that; she is telling him to get married only so that she doesn't feel guilty. Is this what goodness is? Are these the ones who are called 'good girls'? it means to offer a confession for breaking someone's heart?

Wishing for her boy to get married again, was it? For Urmila to ask such a question with such deliberation in the middle of the night did not seem appropriate to Prarthana. Urmila asked again, "If I love Himavant and marry him, will you be happy, Prarthana?" The answer came immediately, "Certainly, I will be content." "I am asking if you will be happy, answer directly and firmly," Urmila pressed. Prarthana did not speak for a long time. Being happy is one thing, and accepting something as a compromise is another. Urmila was waiting for a direct answer to her question—a question as sharp as a betel nut cutter. She knew very well that Himavant would never be able to love another girl in this lifetime. She also knew that if she changed her decision and went back at this moment, he would accept her with the same love as before; but her returning was an impossible affair. On the surface, she was telling herself that she wanted Himavant to be happy, but was she truly happy? What if, years later, Himavant met her and said, "What Urmila? I gave in to pressure and married her out of necessity. Even today, my love is only for you..." If he said that, would she accept it? That is a different matter, but she would certainly feel happy. Even so, she did not wish for Himavant to remain unmarried. If he got married, her guilt would be relieved. But what if that same Himavant decided to love Urmila? Uh-uh, she would not be able to bear it. Yet, she did not have the courage to tell Urmila directly. Because she had not left Himavant because he was a god, nor because she wanted a husband who was a god-like man. She was a complete egoist. What she did was merely a betrayal; she could give a hundred reasons for it, but her heart demanded an honest answer. Answering that was difficult. Now, Urmila was asking exactly that question. If she loved Himavant, would Prarthana be happy? Prarthana did not answer. That night, neither question received an answer. If Urmila loved Himavant...

The first question was whether Prarthana would be happy. The second question, which she asked herself, was whether she had started loving Himavant. Urmila had bypassed these questions. For the thousandth time, light had spread outside.

When Urmila got ready to leave for Shivamogga in the morning, Debu hadn’t even woken up yet. If she left on the first bus of the day, the heat wouldn't be unbearable. "I am leaving. I will meet both of you after I return from Channarayapatna. Tell Debu as well," Urmila said. Prarthana walked her up to the Gundi Chatra circle, put her in an auto, and returned home. Prarthana, who was just about to leave from Davangere, boarded the bus and took a window seat. The moment she rested her head against the glass, Urmila fell asleep and only woke up in Shivamogga. The exhaustion from studying for exams, and sitting up talking to Prarthana for a long time at night—all of it combined to cause that deep sleep. As she got off the bus thinking this, a sudden shock awaited her. Himavant was standing there!

"I just had a feeling you would come on this bus; what they call a 'gut feeling.' So, I came to receive you and take you along. You are the one who surprises me every time regarding your comings and goings. I took a chance this time," he said.

Honestly, Urmila could not believe any of it. The shoes on Himavant’s feet were Reebok; they were not shoes worth less than five thousand. His jeans were not from India; the light blue shade felt like it resembled the sea. Over that, he wore a dark black shirt with a large collar. Himavant stood there wearing thin-framed glasses. If this hadn't been a bus stand, and if she hadn't already confessed that she loved him, she thought she would have jumped from the bus footboard and fallen straight into his neck and embrace. Compared to his smart stance, she wondered what Debu's charm was. Without giving her a chance to think about it further, Himavant snatched the bag from Urmila’s hand and started walking out of the bus stand. She started taking quick steps behind him as they reached the courtyard

At 2:00 PM, another turn of events awaited. Himavant glanced at her and said, "I haven't yet gained the confidence to drive on a busy road; but on empty stretches, I think I can drive confidently. For now, it would be better if you drove." He stood waiting for Urmila’s response, his eyes sparkling with surprise. A dark red Esteem car was shining brilliantly in the soft sunlight. Had Himavant really bought it? Where did this new boldness come from? Was this the same Himu who, before leaving for his exams, used to lie on the floor sobbing uncontrollably? She couldn't believe it. He hadn't given a single hint about buying a car, nor did she know he was learning to drive. Perhaps a man who sets his mind to something can achieve anything, right? She thought Prarthana hadn't understood this at all. The very next moment, a sense of belonging enveloped her. This feeling that it was mine! If it wasn't mine, if Himavant hadn't felt even the slightest affection for me, would he have come here to wait for the bus? He is such a detached person; is he finally becoming mine?

She turned the ignition key, and as the car's wheels began to roll with a soft, gentle sound, a sweet melody began to play from the cassette in the car's deck: *"Ninna kangala koladi beladingalilidante, nannedeya kadaleke beegutihudo..."* (Like moonlight descending into the pond of your eyes, why is the ocean of my heart rejoicing?).

Although she felt shy, wondering what Himu would think if she let her joy show, she smiled slightly at the corner of her lips and looked at Himu. He was now looking out the window, with the same detachment in his eyes. Regardless, the question arose: where would Himu keep such an expensive car in the open fields of Gadekoppa? Had he built a shed? Just as she was thinking that expensive cars shouldn't be left out like that, he gestured to Urmila to drive in a direction unrelated to the Gadekoppa fields. "This is called Ravindranagara. It's a neat locality where everyone lives, from those who have recently become rich like me, to those who were born rich. Take a left here. Slow down a bit, honk. Stop here, honk once. There, see? Zabeen has come. She is opening the door. Put the car in the portico."

The answer to the question of why he would have brought Jabeen if he had desired her, had been found after some time. Jabeen was his younger sister's last legacy. She was disabled from birth. Rasool Jamadar had told him that she could not speak; the strange thing was hear either. But Jabeen was sharp. She might be sixteen years old; she was very beautiful to look at, and her senses were keen. She could cook any dish requested. Since she could not speak, she did not complain; even communicate through sign language. She knew a beautiful language of her own! From the furniture brought into the house to the daily vegetables, everything was at her command. Himavant had once said, "Don't ever speak a word against her choices in front of her; Jabeen gets hurt." Urmila was not surprised by her sharpness. In the last two days before the arrangements were finalized, Himu had not done anything; so how had he organized everything? When? Even though she had been right beside him for days, she had not even caught a hint of Himu's actions.

For a moment, a thorn of suspicion about Himu had pricked her, but she had stayed silent. Himavant remained in the house, but Urmila did not notice any major change in his behavior or his usual silence; it was the same silence, the same seriousness, and short answers if spoken to first. Yet, Urmila felt that a major change had definitely occurred deep in some layer of Himavant's brain.

After their lunch, they sat on the sofa in the living room and chatted casually. Once, Urmila became suspicious about whether Jabeen was listening to their conversation, but it passed. Himavant noticed it but remained silent. In the evening, he and Urmila went for a short walk in Ravindranagar. He did not bring up the matter of Prarthana even by mistake. It was as if he had deleted her from his system; he was as calm and peaceful as he used to be during the days when he was in love with her. Everything in this house seemed to be in order, but Urmila thought that, for some reason, everything felt mysterious. And by mysterious, she did not mean that something terrible was about to happen, but rather that the current atmosphere was incomprehensible, unfamiliar, and beyond her immediate grasp.

She wondered if she had settled in. She thought that once a couple of days passed, Jabeen's unfamiliarity and silence might fade away or improve. Himavant finished his dinner quickly and went to bed. Urmila also fell asleep. It must have been one o'clock in the morning when suddenly, someone rattled the outside gate. Then, the sound of a car starting was heard. Peering through her room window, she could only see the two red tail lights of the car as it sped away. "It wasn't Himavant who drove off," Urmila told herself. Because the car did not leave with the speed of a novice driver. Or rather, it had been only five days since Himavant had learned to drive; why would he hide that from her? She had been lying there thinking about just that. Wasn't it in the room opposite that Himavant was sleeping? Remembering this, she opened her room door without making a sound and stepped out. She just touched the door of his room with her fingertips; it opened. As she had guessed, Himavant’s bed was empty. As she turned back towards her room, her eyes suddenly froze. Jabeen was standing in the corner of the hall. Her eyes did not look like those of someone who had just woken up from sleep. She was staring fixedly at Urmila. There were no questions there. No surprise. It was just an observation. "It seems Himavant went somewhere, right?" Urmila asked. Jabeen remained in stony silence. "Didn't you get any sleep?" she asked again. Jabeen did not even blink. For some reason, Urmila suddenly started feeling more like she had come and stayed at a stranger's house rather than Himavant's. Himavant, whom she had seen a few days ago, the Himavant who had collapsed, shattered by pain—he felt more familiar. This did not even seem like recovery to her. She thought, a hurt soul becomes more guarded. That is natural; especially for women—she consoled herself and tried to sleep. When Himavant returned home, he said, "What to do, tell me? A cement load arrived suddenly in the night. I thought of going to pick you up, but you must have been asleep, so I thought, why wake you? I went alone."

By the time the unloading was finished, dawn had broken. Himavant, who was sitting on the sofa talking, fell asleep; he was exhausted. But Himavant looked as if he had just come from a bath. Urmila, who had lost her train of thought, walked over to him and sat beside him "Himu, no matter how you are or what you do, I like you," she said. "The image of us remains within me. Be true to it. Don't spoil the image that exists within me."

Himavant was slightly taken aback; he looked at her with eyes that held neither laughter nor tears. He simply reached out and placed his arm around Urmila’s shoulder. There was some kind of promise in that touch. In the inner corridor of the house, Jabeen walked away impatiently.

They are together for a long time now. Himavant has no sense of time; he might leave for Gadi koppa at any hour and return home in the middle of some afternoon. Suddenly, he rushes Urmila to leave. His deep red SPM car races towards Jog, forgetting even that it has brakes, moving at a wild speed. Urmila shrieks in a mix of fear and excitement, and at the sharp turns, she loses her balance and leans against Himavant. Urmila, a girl as light as a jasmine flower, has a beautiful scent; she is always fragrant, as if she has just come from a pandanus thicket. She doesn't spend a long time adorning herself, but neat and fresh like a light-pink rose. "White clothes look very good on you," Himavant had said once. The car was racing towards Jog. Suddenly, at a blind curve, Urmila lost her balance and fell directly into Himavant’s lap; it was like a parijata flower falling onto parched, cracked earth along with its dew.

For the first time in many days, the strings of life within Himavant hummed. He felt that if he drove the car at this speed, he would lose control and an accident might occur. He pressed the car's brake, took his foot off the accelerator, brought the vehicle to a halt, and parked it under the shade of the trees by the roadside. Urmila was still leaning in his lap as if asleep, her eyes half-closed. Was it the excitement caused by the speed of the car? comfort of being held in his embrace? Was it an expression? Or overflowing of emotions that had been held back, untold, for so many days?

By the time everything was unloaded and they returned, it was light out. Himavant was sitting on the sofa talking, his eyes heavy with sleep. However, Urmila looked as if she had just come from a bath; she walked towards him and sat beside him "Urmila, Himu, I like you no matter how you are or what you do. The image of you within me remains; please don't spoil that image," she said. Himavant was slightly stunned and looked at her with pleading eyes. Neither a smile nor anything else emerged. He simply reached out and placed his hand on Urmila’s shoulder; there was some promise in that touch. In the corridor of the inner house, Jabeen walked away impatiently.

They spent a lot of time together now. For Himu, there was no sense of time; he would go to Gadikoppa at some odd hour and return at another. Suddenly, he would start the deep red Esteem car. He drove toward Jog as if he had forgotten that the car had brakes. In that mix of fear and excitement, Urmila would shriek; at the sharp turns, she would lose her balance and lean onto Himavant. Urmila, a girl light as a jasmine flower, had a lovely scent; she was always fragrant, as if she had just emerged from a grove of pandanus. She was not one to spend much time adorning herself, but spotless. "Other than light pink, white clothes suit you very well," Himavant had once said.

The car was speeding towards Jog. Suddenly, at a blind curve, Urmila lost her balance and fell directly into Himavant's lap; it was as if a Parijata flower had fallen along with its dew onto parched, cracked earth. For the first time in so many days, the strings of life within Himavant began to hum. He felt that if he continued to drive at the same speed, he might lose control and cause an accident. He stepped on the brakes, took his foot off the accelerator, brought the vehicle under control, and parked it in the shade of the trees by the side of the road. Urmila remained leaning in his lap, as if asleep. Her eyes were half-closed. Was it the excitement caused by the car's speed? comfort felt by someone who had fallen into an embrace? Or expression of an emotional overflow that had been suppressed for so many days and could not be voiced?

'What will happen to Urmila?' I don't know what is happening. I will lie down like this for a while. Urmila asked, "What is happening?" Himavant did not speak. For a moment, he was reminded of Prarthana. I know, she comes to mind every moment; it is an inescapable curse of this life. When she was with me, she didn't have a car. speed, but she had a thousand excuses to lean and lie on my lap. She used to get emotional just like this—even more intoxicated than I was. A warm breath touching the curves of her ears was enough to make her inner peacock feathers flutter. I was like a glowing ember sitting right there. What kind of restraint was mine? Even the last string of a veena, when tightened and tightened, becomes subject to millions of vibrations—I would feel an excitement as if it might snap with a 'snap' at any moment. But how patiently I used to endure all that! How lovingly set it aside every night, saying, 'Let it be for tomorrow.' Was what I had not goodness? Does goodness extract such heavy taxes? What did that girl leave behind for me? I became a man unreachable to anyone, didn't I? How did Prarthana change so quickly? Is two and a half years such a long time that even loyalty can change? If so, what is the lifespan of a woman's loyalty? What did Prarthana succumb to? His handsomeness? Money? The car? The speed of the car? How many places did they travel? How many such unexpected turns were there? How many times had she, just like Urmila now, pleaded with Debu, "Don't push me away," and sighed? The moment he thought this, a chill ran from the heels of Himavant’s feet, and his face turned dark. He looked at Urmila, who was still lying on his lap. She was still in the same state of ecstasy. However, he realized that he was stroking her forehead without even being aware of it. Was there passion in that stroking? He shook his head abruptly. This is impossible in this life. His hand, placed on her forehead, became numb and still. It happens to everyone like this. It must have happened to Prarthana for the first time too. Wasn't that why Prarthana used to panic and run to Shivamogga? Now he understood. He felt an unbearable guilt growing inside him. She used to shower him with kisses as if there were no tomorrow, "Accept me right now; I might leave tomorrow, so hold me tight, Himu. I might make a mistake," she would plead with her silent eyes. That was love.

The reason | 274 If one does not go away—first the person experiencing separation feels a surge of grief. Gradually, for some support, loneliness seeks a foothold. A deep, unbearable sorrow, where is the woman who feels it? Someone says; then the man in the world swears lifelong vows; promises; love, companionship, he calls it love. The feeling that one is making a mistake intensifies. The girl, while melting away, cannot return. When the first love haunts, even if one returns to that place, it is already too late. In a world of billions... is Himavant’s love dying like this? He took his hand off hers. Love is not something that dies in this lifetime; it might be the sweat on Urmila’s forehead. But the life-veena (the lute of life) for Prarthana does not exist even for a moment. Because, today hatred rules; is it possible for love to die? Love will not lean towards a hollow life. That broken sacrifice has already begun in this lifetime. She gathered herself and sat up. "Sorry, I have lost," she thought, as if it remained in her lap. The scent of Urmila’s body still lingered in the car. Neither of them spoke until they reached Jog. They drove the car into the shade of a tree and went inside the traveler’s bungalow. By the time they finished washing, Himavant remembered Prarthana, who had not eaten anything since morning. Urmila said, "I will cook and serve you myself." It was clear that she was a guest in the bungalow. Himavant did not react. The meaning in her words was... They walked out of the room quickly; the roar of the waterfall was audible. The water seemed to leap from a height and fall to the ground, as if jumping—slowly and naturally. Urmila held Himavant’s hand. They began to descend into the valley amidst the mist. They walked in absolute silence, occasionally speaking, occasionally making space for each other, and laughing heartily at small talk. Suddenly, for some reason, Urmila’s fingers gripped Himavant’s shoulder. In the excitement of descending into the valley, she once raised her arm to hug his shoulder, another time she was stroking his back, sometimes she leaned against him, or wrapped her arms around him. Himavant, looking tired, leaned against a large boulder. Urmila, standing beside him, thought, 'I am a creeper.' By the time they climbed back up from the depths of the valley, the sun had begun to fade.

Tell me the reason / 275

Himavant thought it would get dark by the time they reached. He immediately felt like turning back, but he remained silent. Urmila, unable to climb the path, started singing in a humming voice while sitting on a rock, with the light drizzle wetting her face: "Rhimjhim gire saawan, sulag jaaye mann!" By the time she finished singing, her whole body was drenched. The sun in the sky was already changing its tune. There was some kind of invitation in her song; there was a yearning, a question of "Can't you give me a little love, friend?" It was not a plea. Himavant realized this much: Urmila was a much more emotional girl than Prarthana! Emotional people only live like this, moving from one end of life to the other. When he saw her two years ago, a cigarette was trembling between her lips. Now, a song was dancing there. Was it my influence? If so, why didn't my influence work on Prarthana? Had I become too weak to turn her towards me? Am I leaning towards this girl now? Is that another weakness? He shook his head and said to himself, "It’s getting dark." Urmila heard him, but her eyes had vanished into the sunset. He walked slowly toward her, held both her shoulders, and jokingly lifted her up with ease, standing her on her feet. Urmila stood as if she had melted into his chest. Then it became dark. After that, for a long time, the two figures stood joined together, sometimes moving apart, holding hands just for the sake of it; supporting each other as if they were about to merge into one another; touching, distancing, teasing, and laughing aloud—they climbed the ridge of the Jog falls. By the time they returned to the tourist bungalow, it felt like the darkness was pinching their eyes, and Himavant felt like he was trying to escape it. "Himu," she said, "I have one request." "What?" he asked. "Can we stay here for just one more night?" Himavant did not speak; suddenly, the lines on his face twisted. Then, without giving her any answer, he reached for his [belongings] on the car seat.

He brought the blanket and draped it over her shoulders. "Give me ten minutes, I will light a fire for the cold." Urmila wanted to ask, "Himavant, will the light of our bodies and the waterfall of our minds merge in tonight’s cold fire?" But he was not there.

Except for the roar of the waterfall, there was deep silence all around. The flames rose up, casting light on Urmila's face, making the cold seem to dance. Himavant was tending to the fire, pushing logs into the blaze. Urmila's mind sang, *Tumse pyaar aur nahi hai, tum toh pyaar ho!* (There is no more love than this, you are love itself!) If Himavant were here right now, there would be a hundred conversations, a thousand glances; at every step, such intense flirtation! The frenzy of brushing against him, the memory of the night spent in the guest house amidst the forest near Shivamogga comes to mind. Really, Himavant does not melt like the others. Whether it is physical desire, the proximity of a woman, or such divine solitude, Himavant's seriousness carries a weight of its own. Debu’s thousand attempts to flirt with him seemed insignificant in comparison. She knew him well; not everyone could love someone like Himu. It requires a different state of mind. Two and a half years ago, Urmila would have been bored to death. If the Urmila of those days were here, life would not have been a stormy waterfall by now. It a boat chased by madness. After being thrown out of the Kodagu estate house in humiliation, she had an urge to defy everyone and everything. After finishing her studies and discarding them, she had a longing to study history. Just as one cigarette is lit after another without pause, and peg after another occupies the entire body—she felt life should jump from man to man, from one excavation site of history to another. Even when Debu put his hand on her shoulder in that same forest guest house and said, "I love you," in thought, word, and deed... how had she reacted?

"You say you love me, but tell me clearly," she had said, "a girl like me, from a lowly background... love and all that is not for us. Let's see if anyone even looks at us. If you are free one day, look for me. But I don't have time for all this nonsense."

How many months have passed since then? How did this Himavant manage to leave her? Is this what love is? they mean by 'devotion in thought, word, and deed'? If he hadn't reached this state of mind, would it have been possible for him to love Himavant?

Could Prarthana have been like this during those days they met in Channarayapatna? Could she have been restless, waiting just once for Himavant to look at her with love, waiting for him to say just once that he loved her? Back then, they didn't have such a deep history; they only had a future. It was first love for both of them. There were no old memories. Today, Prarthana's shadow is behind Himavant, and behind her, there is a terrifying story.

In such a situation, is it possible for Urmila and Himavant to love each other as intensely and honestly as he and Prarthana had loved?

Urmila sat by the fire, stretching her hands toward it, lost in thought. "While walking from Channarayapatna to Shivamogga, I remembered sitting by a fire like this next to a pond on the way," Himavant suddenly said. It was clear he had slipped into memories of Prarthana.

"Had you two never come to Jog before?" she asked.

"Prarthana didn't have time. She had college. I had to work for her. Maybe she came along with Corona? How would I know?" The deep sadness in his voice made Urmila think that perhaps she shouldn't have asked the question. She sat there, unable to think of what to say next.

He continued without waiting for a response, "Isn't it all so strange? Do you need a car to come to Jog? People come by bus too. If we had wanted to, we could have walked here. But Urmila, I used to keep quiet whenever I felt like asking her fearing it might disturb her studies. think that none of my desires should hinder her future. Did she mistake my goodness for weakness? Loving a person who has a car is one thing, Urmila, but leaving the person you love just because they don't have a car—isn't that a trivial matter, Urmila?"

Having finished speaking, Himavant looked at Urmila's face and gave a wry smile.

He laughed; it felt as though such a laugh could only be born on the face of someone who had been deceived. Was it only after the mind reached such a conclusion that all these changes—his car and the rest—came about? The clothes, the new business, the car, the money she left behind; had she reduced herself to this for the sake of social status? Does such a rash nature exist even in someone like Himavant?

"If a boy who walked barefoot all the way from Channarayapatna could say he would get a girl admitted to medical college, even without a marks card in her hand—wouldn't he be able to buy a big car today? Build a bungalow? Become wealthy? Are you saying Prarthana didn't have that faith?" Urmila had stirred the firewood in the bonfire.

"She certainly had it. If she didn't believe that Himavant could achieve anything he set his mind to, who else could? But Urmila, Prarthana knew how to dream, but she didn't know how to share those dreams. There is a vast difference between the two—dreaming is something one does only for oneself. But sharing a dream? That requires a completely different state of mind. She only dreamed that 'I will become a doctor.' I expanded that dream, telling myself, 'I will make her a doctor, I will build her a nursing home, I will marry her.' She didn't even know the meaning of the word 'sharing.' She just thought, 'Once I become be happy.' And when one is happy, it doesn't necessarily mean that specific people must be by one's side, does it? She decided that if there were people happier than her, the happiness would only increase... she walked out, that’s all!"

Himavant finished speaking and sat staring into the darkness of Jog. The night had cast them both separately. The bonfire began to die down slowly. After a long while, they both reached the Jog traveler's bungalow. They ate together. The conversation was brief. Is it possible for love to ever sprout again in this man's heart? Urmila wondered. Prarthana is in the same state of mind as she was three years ago when she left Channarayapatna. A sincere mind; she has a desire to share her dreams with Himavant, and it is selfless. nature that can respond to his needs and desires, melting like snow. But when is that moment of melting? What is it?

Himavant came back after washing his hands and looked at the dark-colored lungi in his briefcase. She wore a tea-shirt. Before turning off the light, he looked at Urmila once.

Wearing a white nightie, she was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Her eyes were closed peacefully, and her breathing was rhythmic. "She has learned meditation," Himavant thought. "Is this the same girl who used to say she would be a servant in Kaveramma’s house?" Without making a sound, he closed the door of the room, turned off the light, switched on the bed lamp, and went to lie down on his own bed. It was a spacious room with two beds and something resembling a dressing table; there was a gap of about two and a half feet between them. In the silence, the rise and fall of Urmila’s breathing could be heard. In the dim light of the bed lamp, she was visible. Perhaps she wasn't as beautiful as Prarthana, but Urmila was lovely.

"Am I not a good person, Himu?" Urmila asked, breaking the silence of the room abruptly as she lay flat on her bed after finishing her thought. It was as if someone had grabbed Himavant by the shoulder and shaken him while he was lost in thought. He immediately sat up. "You... you are a very good person, Urmi. If your goodness hadn't protected me... who knows what would have happened by now? You left your home, your studies, your exams—everything—to be with someone like me, especially in my current condition, and you have stayed here like this. One shouldn't always look for reasons for goodness, Urmila. You know, you are so valuable to me!" he said.

Even though he spoke slowly, there was his usual sincerity in his voice; it sounded firm. Urmila thought, "This man couldn't have told a lie since the day he was born." If it had been Rasool Jamadar, how many lies would he have told by now? How much color added? A flirt! For him, his pleasure and his love had only that much meaning and that much of a limit. But Himavant—he was like a waterfall that never runs dry. Urmila was lost in her own thoughts.

"Why did you ask that, Urmila?" Himavant spoke again.

"I don't know, Himu. Today, just lying beside you, I felt like I wanted to experience a secure feeling that I had never experienced in this life. I just wanted to be on your side. But I started doubting whether I was a good enough person to receive such comfort, and that’s why I asked," she said.

In the dim darkness of the room, no more words were born. For a while, Himavant remained still, without even the slightest movement. There was no answer of any kind from him.

Himavant had said, "Let it be, it's 2x0." Prarthana had spoken without checking, as usual. She had spoken too much, and now she was getting sleepy. She lay down on her bed, in the mosquito net, and as the lights went off, Himavant got down from the bed and switched off the bedside light so that it wouldn't make any noise. He went to his bed and lay down, but he didn't know that Prarthana was still awake. He lay down beside her, and as he did, he gently placed his hand on her forehead. He whispered, "You are a very good girl, Prarthana," and kissed her forehead. That night, Prarthana, the young girl, slept like a mole, snuggled up beside Himavant.

At the same time, in the house of Debashish Chandrakant Bandopadhyay, a handsome young man from Hyderabad, it was a different scene. Debashish was not feeling well, and a family doctor had been called. Prarthana, Debashish's mother, was sitting beside his bed, and his father, Chandranath Bandopadhyay, was sitting on the floor, holding Debashish in his arms. Debashish was struggling to breathe, was trying to calm him down. The family doctor had been called, but he hadn't arrived yet.

As the doctor was on his way, Debashish's father and mother were getting more and more worried. They knew that Debashish's condition was serious, but they didn't know what was wrong with him. Debashish had never mentioned his symptoms to anyone, and the family was in a state of panic.

The house, called "Himanshu," was in a state of chaos. The family shock, and they didn't know what to do. Chandranath Bandopadhyay and Prarthana were the most worried, as they knew that Debashish's condition was critical. They had been to Davanagere, where Debashish's father, Shivraj, was the owner of a medical school, and they had seen the body of his friend, Sarvavunga, who had died under mysterious circumstances. similar to Sarvavunga's, but they didn't know what was causing it.

As the family waited for the doctor to arrive, they were getting more and more anxious. They knew that Debashish's life was in danger, and they were doing everything they could to save him. But they didn't know what was wrong with him, and worried by the minute.

Debu had left for Hyderabad. Even on the day Prarthana’s exams ended, and they had gone to the dhaba with Didi, Debu remained tense. The next day, while he was still asleep, she had woken up and left for Shivamogga. She had dropped her mother off at the Gundi Chhatra circle. When she returned, she had felt for a moment that something had happened to Debu. He half-asleep and walked out into the courtyard; there, he had planted both his feet on a rangoli of blood that someone had smeared there earlier. After stepping on it, he realized it was blood, but he had just sat there as if he didn’t even know he needed to go to the bathroom to wash it off. Debu’s transformation had started from that moment.

Even before finishing her exams and leaving for Hyderabad, Debu had become dull. He hesitated to even cross the house compound without Prarthana. The day before they were to leave for Hyderabad, they went toward the college to meet a professor and then walked into the hospital right next to it. It was a very familiar hospital that they had walked in and out of hundreds of times over the last two and a half years. Debu was normal as he climbed the steps. But the moment he stepped into the corridor that led to the burns ward, where patients with burn injuries were treated, Debu’s entire expression changed. He was walking like a man who had fallen head over heels for Prarthana. His lips were completely parched; the light had died in his eyes. Only when a vague murmur, "She is calling," escaped his lips at the last moment of crossing the corridor, did Prarthana wake up. "Who is calling?" she asked immediately. Debu looked at her with helpless eyes and stayed silent. It was clear to both of them that no one had actually called out to him. Even after returning home, Debu remained dull. He just lay clinging to the bed. Prarthana thought he must be experiencing that emptiness one feels after studying, writing exams, and finishing everything all at once. After a while, she got him ready for an evening bath. A small attempt in the bathroom. When she stood under the shower and pulled Debu close to her, she remembered that it had been many days since he had become so stiff. As always, Debu moved his hands over Prarthana’s body; over the scars that had long since faded.

He had tried to search, but that day he did not even have the patience to look at the scars. He just stared once, then leaned his head under the shower and closed his eyes. Has his desire for her faded away? Prarthana thought this for the first time. Before the wedding was fixed and before the unfortunate incident with Sujay Malco, Debu used to wait for any opportunity to devour her. But afterwards, he suddenly became neutral. Even by mistake, he would not speak about other women as he used to before. However, his love for her had not perished. That comfort was enough. More than that, Prarthana had sighed in relief noticing that Debu’s male body would become alert during the nights, even when he himself was unaware. There were many changes in his personality. Thinking that perhaps he had decided to keep the physical aspect of their relationship for after the wedding in pursuit of some ideal, she had remained silent. But the matter was not that simple; Himavant had already accomplished a deed long ago that made it impossible for them to ever unite as a true husband and wife in this lifetime! To go to Hyderabad, they had to come to Bangalore and catch a flight. This time, Debu hesitated to drive the car, so Prarthana took the wheel. Throughout the journey, he lay with his eyes half-closed. At the Windsor Manor hotel in Bangalore, he said he could not even drink a glass of whiskey; the man who would start dancing to the sound of a small guitar had behaved as if listening to music was torture. Lying in the room at night, he suddenly sat up and whispered in a low voice, "She is calling!" Prarthana was certain that Debu was losing his mental balance. She had asked repeatedly, "Who is calling?" Even until they reached the bungalow in Hyderabad, she had not received an answer to her question of who was calling. In a loud voice, he screamed "Sarvamangala!" It was perhaps the penance for the sins committed by the pharmacist! Debu was not groaning for no reason. Seeing the charred, withered body of Shivarajayya’s daughter, who had passed away years ago...

He had wandered the entire city, she was told. It was said that they had met in front of the Baati Dhaba, and without even stepping out of the car, they sat talking for a long time. Was it a conversation? Or was it the grief of Sarvamangala, who had been deceived by the man she loved? How many arguments were there that evening? After the girl returned to Davanagere, as the car neared her house, she did not even wait for it to come to a complete halt. She flung the door open, pushed herself out, and landed on the ground. The only words she uttered as she jumped were, "Did you give me so much happiness only to cause me this much pain, Debu?" Was the man who drank not there? Without even the courtesy of offering her an answer, he had turned the car around and driven away. Uncle Shivarajayya, who had been waiting on the veranda with the lamp lit, had seen her crying by the roadside and brought her into the house. It is said he sat with his daughter all night long, trying to console her in her sorrow. When did they drift off to sleep? By the time they heard a cry from the backyard in the early hours of the morning, they rushed out to see—what was it? She had poured kerosene over herself in the backyard and was burning fiercely, the flames rising to the height of her chest. By the time they took her to the hospital, her body was already charred. The doctors said she would live for at most two more hours. Debu had not even looked toward the hospital. Even by the next afternoon, when she had not yet passed away, and a faint cry of "Debu Babu..." began to escape her throat every few moments, they saw no other option but to go to the hostel, fold their hands, and bring Debu back. They must have thought it was her last wish; perhaps her soul could depart in peace if she saw his face one last time. Debu had stepped into the burns ward with a grimace. He had the foolish, stubborn attitude of "What is my fault if she sang and died?" He was a medical student who could count thousands of women who had come and laid themselves down to die after burning themselves this way in that very burns ward. He was not usually emotional about death. Yet, those eyes he had kissed just last night—they were not completely burnt. Only the eyelids had scorched and curled upward. She must have been seeing him vaguely; she tried to reach out to Debu with longing. Her hand looked like a burnt tree branch. Debu felt a small shudder, that was all; the next moment, Sarvamangala’s life had departed. "Did you call me just to see this? Idiots!" he thought, and without even looking back at the corpse, he had walked away from the burns ward in a hurry. Hadn't Uncle Shivarajayya said that day, "May what happened to my daughter never happen to you"?

"Tell me the reason why," 284 "I wrote you a letter, mother." Was something even more terrifying than what happened to Sarvamangala going to happen to Debu now? She was restless. Would there be such a precise punishment for a deception? As for Prarthana, the deception she had committed? For some reason, she did not even have the heart to think about Himavant, nor did she have the time to do so. Two days later, the family doctor had taken Debu to a specialist who examined him as a psychiatric patient. By then, Debu's behavior had completely spiraled out of control. He had started saying that he repeatedly heard someone calling out to him; if any of the children in the house turned on the TV, he would start muttering that Sarvamangala was appearing on it, talking about him, or telling something to someone. The doctors conducted dozens of tests and finally gave a name to Debu's illness: Schizophrenia! But by the third day after that, a repulsive sore had appeared at the corner of Debu’s lip. There were small black patches here and there on his body. Only a few days ago, the prince-like Debu, who had arrived in a Mercedes and caught the eyes of thousands, now looked so repulsive that one would find it difficult to look at him a second time while he lay on the bed. After the family doctor injected a needle into the vein of Debu's forearm to draw a blood sample, he handed a plastic bottle to Prarthana and told her to collect and send a urine sample by evening. The explanation of the matter was in his tone; the patches on Debu's body and the sore on the side of his mouth indicated a venereal disease. It only needed to be confirmed by the blood test. There was a possibility that his strange behavior and the venereal disease he might have were related. If that were true, Debu would require long-term treatment. "In a few days, Debu will start to smell terrible!" Prarthana’s eyes were filled with tears. "Those were just words of a day. I used to wish that a good girl would be found and our boy’s life would change, as any father of a wayward son would wish. But today, standing in your father's place, listen to me, daughter: Do not keep company with Debu. The time for him to suffer his curse has begun. Had you been married, it would have been a different matter. You are still young. I will take responsibility for your education, your expenses, your future, and even your trip to America—you are like a daughter to me. Debu will not return to college. You are mine."

"Tell me the reason, or just leave. Don't marry Debu and share his curse. We are his parents... whatever happens, whatever we have to endure, we must bear it. If we can't do anything, he is in Hyderabad, at the Golconda Hotel, with a man called Nishani Fakeer. We will come, you just leave, daughter." Chandranath Bandopadhyay had spoken in a choked voice, having made Prarthana lie down in the inner room. Prarthana sat silently for a long time, then got up and went to Debu’s side. He was already burning with fever. She wiped the sore near his lip with a wet cloth, then placed her hand on his forehead. "Prarthana..." he groaned softly without pain. She sat on the bed, lifted his head, and placed it on her lap. It felt like holding a burning ember. She wet another piece of cloth, wrung it out, and spread it soothingly over his forehead. It was getting dark outside. She switched on the light. Still holding Debu on her lap, she closed her eyes and began reciting her evening shlokas after so many months: "Ya Kundendu Tushara Hara Dhavala..." Debu's father, standing at the door, began to sob silently. The night had begun like that.

"Why do you doubt? I have seen it with my own eyes. They call it Lilavati Hospital. They brought him to ward number 358. They said they would provide different treatment. I kept watching from the window. The boy hiccuped three times, and his mother went to the side to get water. He could see me standing directly at the window. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something, trying to sit up, lifting his back and waist, opening his eyes wide. His mother put a drop of water in his mouth—look—and just like that, he breathed his last!" Rasool Jamadar was describing every detail of Sujay Malhotra's final moments without missing anything. Himavant sat on the stone floor of the house in the Gadikoppa fields, listening to it all without showing a single reaction. The night was very dense. Rasool Jamadar also looked exhausted. There was not a trace of sadness or remorse in Rasool Saab for Sujay Malhotra's death, or for the fact that he himself was directly responsible for it. However, on the day he had drawn a blood-red rangoli in front of Prarthana's house in Davanagere, he did not seem to be his usual self. He had hesitantly muttered, "This shouldn't have happened..." The moment those words escaped his lips, Himavant looked at him.

"Tell me the reason, 286 note is not being picked up." That had dampened all of Rasool Jamadar's protests; his was a demonic temper, "just like his father's." Having said that, it was Himavant who, for the very first time, had broken through the window of that demonic temper; after that, he had never spoken looking into Rasool Jamadar's eyes, but he had done something that Himavant could not have imagined even in his wildest dreams. Had he not done it, would have been impossible to save Debu's life.

After returning from Jog, a sense of peace seemed to have been established in Himavant; that night spent there was unforgettable for both of them. Like a peacock chick, Urmila had rested her head on Himavant's arm, curled up, and pressed her face against his firm chest, sleeping without the slightest hesitation. For the first time, she felt she was sleeping so securely with a man. Even while she was awake, Himavant had drifted into sleep. His sleep was not subject to the mind's command; he would not move an inch until morning. No snoring, no stretching, no yawning, no mumbling—uh-uh. When Himavant slept, it was like a volcano had gone to sleep. Forgetting impatience, forgetting agony, he was sleeping. Watching him for a long time, she had fallen into a deep sleep by the time he woke up in the morning. On the way back, they had come to a few decisions. Urmila would stay in Shivamogga until college started. Once it began, she would rent a house in Davanagere. Himavant would go to see her once a week, and if he couldn't, Urmila herself would come to the Shivamogga house. During the days she was there, Urmila would cook, wash clothes, and iron them. In the evenings, a walk together was mandatory. Himavant had agreed to everything, but, "Don't even think about sending Zabeen away. That girl will stay here. Don't ask why or what; she is a girl of few words. What trouble could she cause you? Just mind your own business," he had said. "Zabeen seems very mysterious to me. No matter what time I see her, she is always awake. I suspect she might have an illness called insomnia—it's a condition where one suffers because sleep doesn't come. Some people become mentally disturbed due to that illness. If left like this, it will be a problem for Zabeen in the future. For that reason, at least..."

Tell me the reason / 287

"Let's send her for treatment. Every time I see her, she seems to be making herself an outsider. Is that the reason you have kept Jabeen in the house, just for that job?" Urmila felt like saying this to Himavant, but for some reason, she couldn't. Whatever she thought, Jabeen always seemed like a mystery to her. Himavant had gone quiet, as if there was no room for talk about Ekananda. However, from the day he returned, he had immersed himself in the layout work. Whenever he sat down to work, it was as if a giant force took hold of him; there was such dedication in the work he undertook. "This man works eighteen hours a day; is such hard labor necessary to forget the betrayal of one girl?" she used to think. But amidst all that, Himavant would make time to take Urmila for a walk or a long drive in the evenings. What Urmila noticed was that on days when they were certain to be away from the house for four or five hours, he would take Jabeen into his room just before leaving and bolt the door from the inside for five to ten minutes. Before that, Himavant would have bathed; he would be wearing fresh clothes, his hair neatly combed, and ready to head out with Urmila. If one observed him after he came out from being alone with Jabeen in the room for ten minutes, his clothes would not be rumpled, his hair disheveled, and there would be no sign of any confusion on his face. But even by mistake, he would never let Urmila enter that room to peek and see how Jabeen was doing. As soon as he came out of the room, he would take Urmila out, lock the front door himself, and walk away. By the time they returned, Jabeen would be sitting on the sofa in the hall as usual, looking like someone who had just woken up from sleep, with the satisfaction of deep slumber in her eyes. "Before leaving, does Himavant put her into hypnosis and make her sleep for exactly that many hours? Is that possible through hypnosis?" Urmila thought that she should ask the professor when she went to Davanagere next time. That was all; she never even dreamt that there could be some bizarre story behind Jabeen's silence or behind her sleep. The matter that truly disturbed Urmila was Himavant suddenly getting up and leaving in the middle of the night under the pretext that the stone truck had arrived! He would find one excuse or another to stay out of the house all night, leaving Jabeen under guard. As soon as he left, the atmosphere around Urmila...

Himavant, who was returning from his morning walk, reached the same spot without fail. The day would begin with a morning stroll; he would have come after a bath. "Dear Prarthana, look, the directions of both our lives have changed. Who would have thought that I would spend my days like this with a friend at this turn of life? Himavant is such a wonderful human being. Ever since I made the decision to marry, he has become a little more silent than before. After that decision, Himavant's mysterious behaviors sometimes haunt me, becoming incomprehensible. He uses me as an excuse to step out of the house. On some nights, the tranquility in his eyes, as if he has returned from some meditation, is accompanied by a sense of anxiety. Does he fight with your memories? I don't know. Does he love me? I am not certain. Have I started loving him? But I feel comfortable with him. You are not the kind of small-minded person who would think I have occupied your place, are you? I should imagine your place as my own; if not in this house, then in this world. How are your days, Debu and Hyderabad? I hope they are lovely days. Let us meet as soon as the classes begin. Perhaps you will see Himavant with me. By the way, there is a phone at Himu’s house; call me when you are free. Convey my regards to Debu."

Urmila had written a small letter, enclosed the number of Himu’s house, and dropped it into the mailbox. While Urmila was writing the letter in the inland cover, she noticed Zabeen pacing the entire house with impatient restlessness. However, the true horror of the situation only dawned on her on the third day after the letter was mailed, when Prarthana called from Hyderabad. As soon as she said "Hello," she began to sob so heart-wrenchingly, calling out "Urmi Didi," that she was unable to explain what had happened. Overcome by uncontrollable sobs, she called three times in fifteen minutes and hung up each time. At first, Urmila thought that Debu had caused her some trouble and that she might have to leave for Hyderabad immediately. It was only when Prarthana swallowed her tears and began to speak that Urmila understood what her agony was.

...tell me the reason, 289. It was schizophrenia; within two weeks, those symptoms were gone, and syphilis in its horrific stage appeared. Now that too is gone, and a new disease has begun in Debu. All his body hair has fallen out. What appeared as a small wound on his back has now grown into a deep, ugly ulcer as wide as a cobra's hood. They call it a carbuncle. The pain in his back is horrific. Since last night, he has been fainting continuously. No matter what scans they do, the cause of the disease is unknown. His mouth is foaming. I don't feel like Debu will survive, Didi. Would it not have been better if death had come to me instead? That day you left Davanagere—it seems something happened between the time I saw you off in an auto at Gundi Chhatra and returned home. Debu had stepped on a blood-rangoli someone had left in front of the house. There is no doubt; it was human blood. I am scared, Didi.

The moment Prarthana disconnected the phone, Urmila's resolutions began to intensify. No, what has happened to Debu is not a disease. It problem that can be cured or solved by ordinary humans; the problem has originated in Shivamogga! The fact that Jabeen had informed me that I had written a letter to someone had shattered his peace and stability for many days. It was rare for him to return home in those three days. He was undoubtedly spending his nights in the open fields of Gadikoppa. No, he would not let Prarthana live in peace. A man so gentlemanly, an eternal lover who lived thinking she was his entire world; a man of self-respect who wouldn't even touch others' money with his left hand; a noble man who had shut all doors, believing no other woman could ever enter his life; a kind-hearted man who set out to help the helpless and the destitute—but now, a demon has emerged from within him. That is the trouble. A very good man is more powerful than a very wicked one; his is a virtuous power. What if his conscience suddenly derailed? There is no one crueler than him. Has Himavant become cruel? What happened to his restraints? Where did his ideals go? What right before our eyes? Sujay stood still. As the memory of Muldotra surfaced, a chill ran through Urmila’s entire body. a murderer? Is this the murderer I loved?

"Tell me before you leave. We were ready to be together." Urmila was confused; ever since she finished her shift and returned to Shivamogga, from the very moment she arrived, she reminded herself of Himavant's true colors. At no point had he promised her anything, and she had never mistaken him for a ruthless killer. But Himavant no longer carried the same pain as before; there were no agonies or anxieties from the days after Prarthana had left. internal explosions. She realized that she had overlooked this change—the volcanic silence of Himavant had suddenly become calm. She had not guessed the reason. His behavior had become mysterious; even though she was wary, she did not suspect him. Had Himavant changed while being with her? She suddenly turned and looked toward the kitchen. Her intuition was not wrong; a strange fear was dancing in the eyes of Jabeen, who stood at the kitchen door. She felt as though Jabeen could hear and had overheard every word she had spoken with Prarthana. The very next minute, as if deciding that the panic on Jabeen's face should show her the way and that she must find the answer to this problem in those trembling eyes, Urmila stood up. The first question that stirred in her mind was—Where is he? Rasool Jamadar? She did not delay further. At this hour, Himavant would be in Shivamogga, or if not, he would be immersed in the work at the 'Amma Layout' that had started on the Ayanur road. He was completely occupied with work during the day. The work was reaching its final stage. There was another project—the Prarthana Layout work in the Gadikoppa fields. Rasool Jamadar was the one overseeing the work. As soon as she thought of him, Urmila hailed an auto and reached "Sit down, Doctoramma." Rasool Jamadar placed two chairs under the shade of a tree and began to speak. "If you hadn't come today, I would have come tomorrow myself." Urmila noticed the wrinkles of worry moving on his forehead, but she spoke sharply, "Rasool, if I you would have taken a second life. Don't talk." Her voice rose higher, "It is not just because I am standing in front of you asking that I am angry." "Don't say that, Doctoramma, the one left at home..."

"Tell me the reason, 20."

Rasool Jamadar sighed. "It was fate. A cursed outcome that silenced speech." For the first time, Urmila spoke, forgetting that she was a doctor. "Don't get agitated, mother. It’s not the child's fault. It has taken away her speech; sleep. Bringing her home was meant to protect you! Our Himavant is no longer the man he once was, mother." Just as Rasool Jamadar began to speak, a dark cloud floated in from somewhere and began to cover the fields of Gadikoppa. In a very soft voice, narrate the story of Himavant’s inhumane revenge.

By the time Urmila returned home, the evening had died and night had fallen. The SP's car parked at the door confirmed that Himavant was in the house; however, there were no lights inside. The door creaked open as if pushed. Although she was certain that the person slumped on the sofa in the inner room was Himavant, she stood at the doorway for a minute, unable to walk freely into the dark house. Himavant, who had been sitting as if lying down shifted slightly. Urmila’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness inside. "Come, Urmi," he said, rising from the sofa. A strange fear gripped Urmila in the darkness of the unlit inner room. It intensified the moment she saw Himavant’s face in the light. She stood stunned for a moment. It felt as if there was no connection between the Himavant she saw every day and the Himavant standing before her now. life in Himavant's eyes; they looked like two lumps of coal stuck on either side of his nose. His lips were completely dried out and appeared lifeless. The weariness of centuries seemed to have condensed on his face. His hair looked like the bristles of a broom that had swept dirt and been set aside. There was no vitality in his walk as he returned to the sofa after switching on the light. Asking, "What has happened to you, Himu?", she rushed toward him. But, suddenly, the story of Himavant’s revenge, which Rasool Jamadar had spent the whole day telling her, came to mind, and she stopped abruptly, feeling as though she shouldn't go near him.

"What is wrong with me? Just a bit of exhaustion, that’s all." The voice, rising from the depths of a well, seemed to come from someone who could not sit upright on the sofa. By the time she reached him, Urmila’s enthusiasm for a confrontation had also withered away. Whether it was the growing impatience toward Himavant, or the natural urge of a friend to rush and see Prarthana, who had screamed "Urmila Didi!" and wept over the phone—she could not decide. What was the use of talking to him anyway? If she went to Prarthana quickly, she could at least offer some comfort to her friend. Before leaving, she had decided she would tell Himavant, "I am leaving for Hyderabad. Whether it is death or something else... I will be with her during her days of misfortune. I will never again step foot into this house, into your mysterious abyss, into this marketplace of death," and leave without waiting for his answer. But, could she leave Himavant in this state? And what could she even do by going? If she listened to what Prarthana had said on the phone, it seemed Debu would not survive much longer. Prarthana was not a fool to be scared easily. Having already seen death in the hospital daily, she knew how death lurks and approaches. They said all the machines of the body were shutting down one by one; in a sense, Debu was only clinically alive. She had said that death could occur at any moment. Was it impossible to stop it? She had asked Rasool Jamadar a thousand times, but even he did not know the answer for sure. One who has walked through a bloodbath cannot live for long. Seven days, twenty-one days, forty-two days...! What kind of resolution has Himavant made? "What can I tell you, Doctor-amma? I was the one who took him to the cave of the Ajjayya throne for the first time. I couldn't bear to see Himavant's condition. He used to mutter a lot, as if he was suffering from something in his head. Whoever came in front of him, he would start telling them, 'Look at it like this.' At first, it felt like a joke. It was surprising. I felt he should be examined. But when I saw Nandakka's death, I couldn't bear it anymore. I was the one who arranged a car and took Himavant there. 'Come, Sabanna, I knew you would come. bring him. on this very day,' he had said to me. Sabanna reached the cave entrance and spoke. We were there for three days, Himavant was silent..."

He had been sitting there for three days holding onto a stone, as if clutching the feet of some deity on a pedestal, when he fell into a state of delirium due to a severe fever and lost consciousness. It felt as if there was no hope left for his survival, but then the new moon passed and the light of the first lunar day appeared, didn't it? He woke up muttering, "Avla..." His eyes cleared, the fever had subsided. He looked at me, and as he began to ask, "Hasn't Prarthana come?", he suddenly stopped. The old man, standing in the corner, laughed grotesquely. Himavant didn't like it one bit. But what did it matter if he had said, "From this time on, you must come here for three new moons." We both went and returned for all three new moons. By the time the fifth new moon arrived, the old man himself had come to Gadikoppa, hadn't he? Death seemed to have veiled the old man's eyes like a film. He had said, "I have come, my boy... now the responsibility of sending me off is yours." Right there, in the courtyard of this stone house, he stretched out his legs and lay down. Perhaps it would have been better if I hadn't seen it, but Himavant has a mother's heart. He watched over him until the very last moment. Every night, that old man would wake Himavant up, take him out, and make him sit on the mound next to the stone house. They said he would recite mantras until dawn. Doctoramma, how would I know what all that was? Whatever they asked for, I would bring it to them. After the old man died, Himavant didn't speak to anyone for a whole day. That was when he learned this craft, Doctoramma... was it even necessary to learn all that just to acquire the wealth that comes from trampling over a rangoli of blood and killing people? Rasool Jamadar had told him everything, leaving no detail behind. Even after speaking at such length, there was no disdain in Rasool Jamadar's voice toward Himavant. disgust either. Nor could one conclude that Rasool Jamadar naturally loved Himavant simply because he had become a partner in all his sins. Doctoramma, haven't I been watching that girl Prarthana since the very first night she set foot in Shivamogga? She stood near the Shivamurthy Circle under a dim light, holding onto this same Himavant's hand just like a little sparrow. I can still see it clearly before my eyes. Her toe had stumbled and torn, and he had carried her all the way from Channarayapatna in his arms. But once he brought her, how did Himavant take care of her? Let me tell you, Doctoramma—the cars, the house, the job, the layout that exists today—none of that existed back then, did it? The determination he had to make Prarthana a doctor—did he not suffer enough for that? If they managed to eat twice a day...

"You may find many people, Doctoramma, who struggle through the day eating only once, fearing that the money they earn won't be enough. But to endure hunger while lying flat under the open sky, waiting for some light to appear somewhere, hoping that everything will be alright—to bear that pain, that goodness... except for Himavant, I have never seen such a man to this day," Rasool Jamadar had said. There was neither exaggeration nor justification in his words; he was speaking the truth. Just as it was true that Himavant’s thumb had been broken the very first day he arrived in Shivamogga, it was equally love for Prarthana, who watched the sky with her back pressed to the earth, hoping for a light to emerge for a better life, was genuine.

Prarthana whispered this to herself, reflecting on the tone of his words. But he was no longer lying there expecting a light to appear on the horizon for things to turn out well. He had finally reached the decision of a murderer: a grim dissatisfaction that sought to take a life. Was it the expectation that if he killed her after seven days of torture, she would return to him? Was it possible for such hatred to grow in someone who had loved her so much and taken such good care of her? Was there such a barbaric face behind that love? She did not know. But this was not the time for logic.

Having committed a betrayal that should never have happened, when Prarthana had returned to her hostel in Davanagere without telling Himavant, he had rushed to Shivamogga to comfort her. Was that the same friendship? It was for that very friendship that she had run to him, seeking his shelter when she was in trouble. "I must be with her," she thought, and headed quickly through the inner rooms towards her own.

Even in those moments of confusion, her eyes searched for Zabeen. As usual, she was not standing leaning against the kitchen door. Thinking she must be nearby, she entered her room and quickly packed a few clothes. Even when she came back with her travel bag, she did not see Zabeen. She glanced towards the corner where Zabeen usually kept her clothes, but in that corner...

The fact that there was a girl who couldn't speak, and that Zabeen had left the house once and for all—it all became clear. Did Himavant know that she had gone? Did he know everything? Had he come here and lain down only after finishing his final task? Had he decided that he no longer had the responsibility of looking after Zabeen's resolve? She thought of asking Himavant, looking him in the eye, "Where did she go?" But suddenly, she felt that it wasn't a matter that concerned her. She came out of the room with her bag. Himavant had already fallen asleep and was sprawled on the sofa. She stood by his head for a moment and, as if slipping, said, "Himuu."

"Mm?" he muttered, but did not open his eyes. Feeling suspicious, Urmila placed her hand on his forehead; Himavant’s fever was beyond what a thermometer could measure. He was not even in a condition to sit up. She felt that if he weren't admitted to the hospital, there might be trouble. He was in such a state that he didn't even notice her touching his forehead. At this hour, where could she find Rasool Jamadar? If she went to the fields of Gaadikoppa, she might find someone who knew the Jamadar's whereabouts, but was it safe to go there alone in this darkness? Was it even possible for her to leave for Hyderabad? Urmila was caught in a deep dilemma. Just as she was standing by Himavant’s head, he turned slightly in his sleep and, without realizing it, groaned, "Prarthana..."

Stunned and feeling directionless, she placed her handbag on the floor and decided to soak a small towel in water. Just as she turned toward the bathroom, the telephone rang continuously. Placing the cloth she was holding onto the sofa, Urmila walked toward the phone, noticing Himavant struggling to sit up. If the person calling was Prarthana, would it be possible to talk in front of Himavant? Caught in that dilemma, she went and picked up the phone. Two minutes later, strange expressions flickered across Urmila's face and then faded.

"Didi, is Himu doing well now?"

Stopping mid-sentence, she dropped the receiver to the floor. No matter how many times she called out "Himu, Himu," he did not speak. All she could hear was someone sobbing uncontrollably on the other end. Then, someone else...

"Tell me the reason, 296, how is Himu now, Didi?" she asked, and before I could even pick up the phone, there was an urgency in her voice. Did she mean to convey everything to Urmila before she returned home after finding out? Did Himu signal Prarthana to leave just as Jabeen had spoken after she finished talking? Did he end up in this state because he left the house with Prarthana? What did he say? Did Himavant tell her everything he had done after Prarthana spoke? Why such a sudden sense of peace in her voice? What a difference there is between her voice when she wailed, "Will Debu’s life be saved, Didi?" and now when she asks, "Is Himu better now?" What conversation happened between the two of them? What promise did Prarthana give? Did their broken friendship blossom again? What happened to Debu? As Urmila struggled, not knowing how to answer as no immediate answers to any of these questions were forthcoming, Prarthana started speaking again from the other end. "Tell Himu, Didi, that I have done everything he asked me to do; I have no other expectations now. Tell him I am just waiting for him to come to Hyderabad. He has become very emotional. The responsibility of looking after him for a night or two is yours. Please talk to him. I will call you again in the morning. Good night, Didi!" Having said this, she hung up. When Prarthana finished, Urmila noticed Himavant fumbling for water. There was a different kind of light in his eyes now.

Urmila quickly went and brought a glass of water, took Himavant onto her lap, and fed him water bit by bit. There was a weariness on Himavant's face like that of a soldier who had lost a great battle. Only once did he try to fix his eyes on Urmila, but he stopped; what was he trying to look for in her face? After drinking the water, Urmila was lost in different thoughts. Two gulps...

Urmila stroked his dust-covered forehead as he tried to turn his face away and lie on her lap. She changed the cloth on his burning forehead. Slowly, she wiped his hair and chest with a cold, wet cloth. While doing all this, her touch felt like a mother’s natural affection.

In that exhaustion, Himavant struggled to open his eyes and looked at her. "You didn't tell me what you talked about with Prarthana," he murmured. Even though he tried not to ask, the question seemed to have slipped out, as if it could no longer be suppressed in his throat.

Himavant looked at her with a mix of surprise, scrutiny, and deep empathy. Looking at her this way, he wondered, even in his fever, isn't a woman a total sum of such astonishing combinations? He was in no state to talk about it.

"She said she did everything you asked her to do; I have no other expectations left. I will just wait for Himavant to come to Hyderabad," Prarthana had said.

"Will you go to Hyderabad, Himavant?" Urmila asked after a while. Her inner mind told her she could have asked this tomorrow after the fever subsided, but a strange distress was compelling her to speak. The pain she felt now was more intense than the agony she felt the first time she received a call from Rasool Jamadar, who had cried out saying that Debu’s life was in danger because of Prarthana. The second time, when that same Prarthana said, "Take good care of Himu for just this one night; I am only waiting for him to come," the pain felt even sharper than the fever.

She thought that if it were any other day, Himavant would have woken up and talked, no matter what mood he was in. But the very next moment, realizing her own distress and suffering were pointless, she began wishing that Himavant would sleep well and his fever would go down.

There was a time when she thought it would be better to take him to a nursing home as the fever was getting severely intense. But as if Himavant wanted none of that, at the crack of dawn, he got up with her support and went to wash his face with cold water. By the time Urmila went to the room to bring him coffee, he had locked the door from the inside.

Ignoring such a high fever, he began pouring cold water over himself. Seeing this, Urmila was about to scream that he would catch pneumonia if he bathed in cold water like that, but she heard him chanting a mantra from inside the bathroom. No matter how hard she tried to listen, she couldn't make it out.

She did not understand what mantra that was. Having finished his bath and wearing a dhoti, he had come outside and sat against the damp wall in the veranda with his eyes closed. He seemed to be in a 'trance' where he could not even notice his own feverish heat and exhaustion. Deciding that what she had discussed with Prarthana over the telephone was not something to be brought up for discussion now, she remained silent. As the light of dawn began to break, she prepared herself, thinking she would go to a nearby nursing home and bring a doctor.

However, Himavant gave her an unclear telephone number and said, "This is his neighbor's number. It is enough if you convey the message to them; Rasool Jamadar will come. Call him first." Urmila could not refuse Himavant's words. Picking up the phone, she informed the people in the house next to Rasool Jamadar.

Then, he made her write a list of ten or so strange items. They were things that could be used for cooking, construction work, paint preparation, or perhaps something entirely unrelated. She hadn't even heard the names of some of them. Others were items labeled 'Arsenic Poison' and kept in a chemistry laboratory. She wondered in which shop all these things could be found. "Give the list to Rasool Jamadar; he will bring them," Himavant said in a low voice. She was surprised. It felt as if Himavant was thinking one step ahead of her.

If it weren't so, could he have imagined the conversation he had with Rasool in the fields of Gadikoppa in the morning, and by the time she returned home, managed to send Zabeen away without leaving a single trace, as if she had never even been there? She wanted to ask about this, but just then, with the sound of "Haimanna," Rasool Jamadar stepped into the house. Seeing the exhaustion on the face of Himavant, who was sitting against the wall, he said, "Oh god... Is it a fever, master...?"

"Ko-ne-du!" a strange sound escaped Himavant's mouth. Rasool Jamadar, who was sitting at a distance, did not get up to touch his forehead. He knew this was the final fever that comes to a practitioner who has accepted the mandala. The intensity of the fever crushes a person, but that is all just a pretext. He had to complete the final ritual of the mandala. Only that much strength would remain in the body; just enough for one step. Sitting in the fields of Gadikoppa, he... to the doctor...

Before he could even think, Himavant had already received proof of everything. Rasool Jamadar, along with his bundle, had left that night. He was speaking to someone, and the relief in his eyes was evident. However, Jamadar was not sure if the Doctor and Himavant had discussed the matters he had spoken about or not. Somehow, he had clearly said, "Bring everything from the bag, don't come home; take it to Gaadakoppa, I will be waiting for you there at eleven o'clock." Jamadar thought this was the first time Himavant had spoken about this matter in front of a third person, other than the two of them.

As he got up, keeping the note Urmila had given him in his pocket, Himavant stood up as if prepared to go somewhere. He swayed, and Urmila supported him; it was like a vine clinging to a tree. "Will Himu go to Hyderabad in this condition?" The question nagged at Urmila, but she did not ask. His facial expression suggested that she should not ask anything now.

He went into the inner room and changed his clothes. The same jeans, the same rough-textured, faded-colored kurta. He took some money from the drawer and walked around the house once. Standing at the backyard door, he stuffed a small file-like folder containing papers into his bag. He told Urmila to get ready to leave; it seemed as if his words were already finished. Just before leaving, he called Urmila close in the inner room and kissed her forehead; his lips were burning.

Just as the two of them were about to leave the house, the phone rang. He looked at Urmila once, as if expecting her to pick it up, but Urmila did not move. Deciding suddenly, he let out a small sigh and, without even trying to find out who was speaking from the other end, he said, "Hello, Prarthana. Tell me?"

Urmila could not hear the words from the other end, but for some reason, she felt a premonition. "Yes, Hyderabad, Prarthana. I am fine, there is no problem, Prarthana. I have left. I will reach as soon as possible. What is on my mind... I will come, Prarthana. I won't delay anymore." Saying this, he ended the call. Urmila looked at him, expecting him to look at her with guilt, if only for the sake of courtesy, but Himavant looked towards her...

He did not even look back; the car began to move through the streets of Shivamogga without any tension. There was no conversation between the two seated inside. He stopped at a petrol bunk, filled the tank, and from there until they reached Gaadikoppa, they both sat in the same silence. From a distance, Rasool Jamadar could be seen standing in the courtyard of the stone house. For some reason, Himavant began to sweat slightly. Urmila thought of asking if he needed to take his medicine, but it was as if Himavant had already replied that this was not a fever that could be cured by medicine. After that, whatever happened at Gaadikoppa was truly heartbreaking.

Until mid-afternoon, all Himavant had consumed was a tall glass full of buttermilk; that was it. For a long time, he had sat silently in the courtyard of the stone house. Later, he went to the backyard and spent time hugging and stroking a calf named Prarthana. What did he feel? He stood up suddenly, untied the rope of the car and the cow, and the calf ran towards its mother with immense hunger; it latched onto the udder with desire. After a long while, it turned to look at Himavant, as if in gratitude. Even though the rope was untied, the mother cow stood motionless in the shed, as if out of habit. Himavant raised his hand and made a sound, as if telling her to move out of the shed. "Himavant, if you tell it to go, where will it go? The women who come for labor work will take care of it anyway. The calf is still young. Let it stay in the shed. In this scorching afternoon sun, where would it even go?" Urmila, who was standing behind him, spoke. Himavant turned to her sharply. "You think the shed you built provides shade. Try asking the cow that has been tied up. Even if you feed it a feast, it will only perceive it as bondage. What does it know that we love it? What is it to we have tied it up with our love? It needs freedom, it needs its own happiness. Let it go." Saying this, he looked at the calf once more and walked into the stone house. After a long while, the cow and the calf crossed the sunny open fields of Gaadikoppa and walked away somewhere. Himavant, who had told Prarthana that he was leaving for Hyderabad, was still not leaving even though it was mid-afternoon. Whom was he waiting for?

Gradually, the sun grew stronger and sharper outside. Across the open field, the laborers, supervisors, and managers, unable to bear the midday heat, found whatever shade they could to open their lunch bundles. The clock was ticking toward two-forty-five. Suddenly waking up from a nap, Himavant, wearing only a cloth wrapped around his waist like a sarong, stood by the well and began to pour water over himself. A high fever; scorching sun; and then a cold water bath! If he could drive a car all the way to Hyderabad on these gravel roads, Himavant must be crazy. He wasn't even eating a morsel, as if he had decided to end his life. Urmila’s anxiety doubled, but Himavant continued to bathe were oblivious to everything. Since the laborers sat for lunch in the shade of distant trees, a deathly silence descended in front of the stone house. Only Rasool Jamadar stood on the mound beside his face etched with anxiety, holding various items under the blistering sun. The ground was burning. Ignoring it, Himavant climbed the mound barefoot. He snatched the heavy pickaxe from Rasool Jamadar’s hand and signaled with his eyes, as if ordering, "You leave now." As Rasool was descending the mound, Urmila, unable to contain her curiosity and anxiety, hurried toward the mound. But Himavant, without letting her approach, placed his hand on her back and brought her back to the stone house. The clock’s hands crossed the two-o'clock mark. Urmila could no longer see what was happening on the mound. Only the sound of him digging with frantic intensity could be heard. Every now and then, he let out a roar like an animal in a fit of rage. Muffled cries emerged from the mouth of the man who hadn't stopped digging. He was pulling out pieces of mica that he had layered and hidden in different parts of the ground. Only Rasool Jamadar knew that it was "fool's gold." He had brought nine sheets, each two palms wide, to the stone house himself; six had been used, and three remained in a wooden box. Perhaps for every murder, Chandranath used three sheets of mica. Whenever he dug deeper, he would find one sheet. Underneath the sheets, his secrets were laid out: a piece of cloth with his left-hand fingerprints, hair, dried semen, the tip of a fingernail, and under another layer, one of his...

Tell me the reason / 302 There is a diagram in his hand, drawn unclearly. Himavant is digging them out one by one. He is now facing his own words and his own sorcery. In black magic, this is called 'stambhana' (immobilization). A destructive ritual is easy, but stambhana is very dangerous. Ill-omened times wait specifically for such opportunities. What if something happens to Himavant? Rasool Jamadar started to get restless. Urmila did not understand anything. She was slightly uneasy that Himavant had left for Hyderabad directly after talking to Prarthana without telling her a word or giving any indication, but his subsequent behavior only caused her anxiety. What is Himavant doing on the mound? Even Rasool is not speaking. Did Prarthana promise to return to him? Is he canceling this destructive ritual to save Debu’s life because of that? If it hadn't been canceled, would Debu have died? Was there a need for someone like Himavant to learn lowly occult practices? Waves of questions rose and stood still in her mind. A small cry of "Hm" was heard. The process of digging on the mound also stopped. If she had gone and looked at Himavant’s condition, his expression, the tragic posture in which he lay flat on the ground, the thin trickle of blood coming out of his mouth, the wounded tongue—what would Urmila’s state have been if she had seen all that? Having retrieved a panchaloha (five-metal) plate from under the final layer, Himavant lay there for a while as if he had lost consciousness. He slowly recovered and gathered all the items he had buried under the wooden planks, tying them into a bundle with a cloth soaked in turmeric water. He felt like he was losing his strength, yet without losing his patience, he dug another small pit and carefully retrieved the mother-of-pearl jewelry and wedding saree he had kept reserved for Prarthana. He tied the ritual materials he had procured from Rasool Jamadar into another cloth. As final knot, a snake-shaped hairpin belonging to his mother flashed in the afternoon sun. The memory of Prarthana pinched him. Letting out a small cry, he called Rasool and ordered him to take the three bundles and place them in the backseat of the car. His face was now as calm as the sky after the rain. Back to the well.

He went and bathed with two pots of water and changed his clothes. It was the same jeans and shirt; no matter how much Nandan insisted, he wouldn't drink a drop of anything other than a glass of buttermilk. Having sat behind the wheel of the red Esteem, he had turned the ignition before Rasool Jamadar could even finish his bath, with the only goal of boarding a bus and reaching Hyderabad before the first light of dawn. Urmila had noticed Himavant’s sudden haste. No sooner had she observed it than she went and sat in the car. He began driving now with an uncanny focus. Just before crossing the open fields of Gadikoppa and reaching the main road, he slammed the brakes, stopping the car abruptly. He turned once toward the ‘Prarthana Layout’ and his eyes welled up with water for a moment. Urmila, feeling a strange blend of distress, reached out and squeezed his forearm affectionately. Then, the car picked up lightning speed. Every now and then, Urmila checked his forehead and neck for a fever, but Himavant showed no signs of slowing down. He was driving as if he had no thoughts at all. He was shifting gears very mechanically, stepping on the accelerator pedal as if with vengeance. Mukesh continued to sing in a low voice on the stereo: “Jaane Kahan Gaye Woh Din?”

“Do you know Jahnavi? The one who does embroidery work. Her full name is Jahnavi. A girl like gold—someone I met during the strange turns of my life. It is true that she felt like a ‘sister’ to me, but I don’t talk to just anyone without a reason. But the moment I saw her... I didn’t have any love for her, but I asked her, ‘Can you treat others like a sister?’ Before she could answer, I had slapped her face. She was a girl the size of a sparrow, standing there shivering—and woman. I had asked her for fifty rupees. One must have a commitment to life; that shouldn't be called love. When there is no dream to live, whatever you love, whatever you pursue without a dream, is more disgusting than prostitution. You say ‘love’—don't lie, don't deceive yourself. You need money; you are doing this to live, but you pretend that your mother needs a life, not money. But don't tell me for the sake of money what you call ‘love,’ and don't lie that you need love. the work you do for money, yet you call it the joy of love.”

"Just tell me the reason; I need an excuse for 304. I don’t want the hardship required to get it, and torment of losing the comfort I have to end up in a poor man's house. I want his company until college ends, but a share in his dreams. I find you disgusting, Jani. Why did you call her your sister?" I said that. "This fifty-rupee note, which I earned today by wandering the streets of Shivamogga, take it. Isn't this what any man would give you? you would reject any man for, even if he loved you? You are a woman worse than your mother, but keep this fifty-rupee note with you so it never gets lost. If you ever meet a man who says, 'I will not sleep with a woman unless I love her from my heart,' show him this note and tell him: 'A man like you gave this to me; his name is Himavant!'" Saying that, I looked at her with contempt and walked away.

At that time, Jani was studying in Shivamogga. Kaveramma was paying for these girls' studies by working as a prostitute; I had called Jani my sister even before I knew all that. I could never look at her in any other way. A boy like me loved her, and Jani liked him too. But she was afraid to weave dreams of getting married and living together. The boy was poorer than me, but more foolish than me. He was an innocent boy who had the stubbornness to say, "One day, I will earn enough for two morsels and feed Jani one." Kaveramma's girls wanted to love a poor man, but were afraid of marriage. One day, I met her on the road and slapped her cheek hard to knock some sense into her. The next day, at the crack of dawn, Jani came and stood in front of my room behind Nandakka's house, and that boy was with her. Like small children, they both hugged me and sobbed. Later, I was the one who got Jani married. To this day, she runs to me calling me 'Anna.' Her husband is in a high position. Do you see the garden stretching along this roadside? It’s his. He has had 'Himavant Gardens' written on the garden gate. If I hadn't slapped Jahnavi's cheek that day, would she be sitting next to Kaveramma doing embroidery today?

The deep blue car named 'Himavant Gardens' slowed down and stopped near the garden gate where the board was hung. I looked at it to my heart's content and stayed silent. Mukesh's story was also over. Embroidering... Himavant in the car now. How did he get to know Kaveramma? And why did a woman like that mean so much to Himavant? Why was he so concerned about her? These questions had been haunting Urmila for many days, even if she hadn't dared to ask them aloud.

"Why are you bringing all that up now?" Urmila asked. "To teach a lesson to those we love, or have impulsively slapped and called 'little sister'—that is also a part of humanity. Regarding Prarthana, even when it became clear that she was you, didn't slap her across the face for what she was doing, did you? I said all this just to ask what happened to our humanity. Remember, she used to call you 'Didi.' Even then, you cheek to teach her a lesson. Why? Because... back then, you didn't love anyone more than your own life. That day, when you had resolved to finish off Debu, you came running to the fields of Gadikoppa just to remind me of humanity. You came screaming, 'Himu, don't let the person I loved so much become a murderer.' Why did you come running today, risking your life? It’s because you are loving someone else more than your own life. Isn't that right, Doctor?"

He started driving the car without even waiting for her answer. Urmila broke into a sweat where she sat; Himavant had started the conversation from somewhere and brought it to a standstill elsewhere. *Why did it not occur to me to call the girl who called me 'Didi' and slap her cheek?* Urmila asked herself.

The car headlights identified and shed light on the thickening darkness as the day began to fade. Although exhaustion was visible on Himavant’s face, the speed of the car remained constant. Debu drives faster than him, but he lacks the consistency that Himu has. There is a vacillation in his speed toward the destination. Himu's speed has a meditative focus.

"Whatever I have done, it this way, Doctor. I decided that I must love life, and I loved it without even thinking of death. When I sat down to sell snacks, I would drink water if I got hungry. I never ate the snacks meant for someone else. I developed a deep hatred for the man, but even after he died, I didn't think against him. The world only knows how many miles I walked carrying a girl named Prarthana from Channarayapatna to Shivamogga. Only I know that I have walked hundreds of leagues on paths where Prarthana wasn't even there. Because back then, there wasn't even a ray of love in my life—only to one who knows how to walk on a dark path..."

Tell me the reason 306

A ray of light emerges from somewhere, and the truth becomes known. Even knowing that, when I met Prarthana at the turn of the road in Channarayapatna, I thought of her as in my life. I thought that was the only thing in life... I made a mistake, even without knowing it myself. I thought you would always protect me. Doctor, don't you think about me? I don't understand your principles. That thing you call 'analysis'? that at all. I only know how to love. I know that to keep the person you love happy, you must be prepared to do anything.

"It’s not just about money, Himu. She needs him for some other reason. Why do you think she left him just for money? Even today, she has love for you. It’s the kind of love one has for God. Can you have a domestic life with God? You need to understand, Himu. You say that the mind is like someone who has gone out to shop in a thousand stores, but I don't understand any of that, Doctor. A man without money knows he is poor. When someone leaves without giving a reason, he thinks they left just because he had no money. You talk about love for God? Does such love exist, Doctor? In a person standing before God, there is no love; there is only prayer. 'Give me this; give me that; give me peace; give me happiness'—aren't all those just prayers, Doctor? What do we give to God? When we are very happy, we forget the God we loved. We start a domestic life with demons and make up a thousand excuses to hide our mistakes. In your language, you call this 'adjustment,' you call it a 'compromise' made with life. I call it self-deception. Your world's rules are different, Doctor. In my world, love is the only rule. It is true that I loved Prarthana. she left without giving a reason. was deceived. changed the very map of my life for her. The layout, the hospital, the stone bungalow, the name of the boy Himanshu—everything is true. Only the person named Prarthana is a lie; everything else is true. So what now? Should I leave everything behind for her sake? You too, Doctor, are better than her. You are as beautiful as her, and perhaps more honest have a brutal honesty. Our love has no wavering. By the time you arrive...

Tell me the reason 307

Himavant: "I could build ten such layouts. I am a man with the strength to do that. Himanshu... I could even name the nursing home I built for her after our child. Everything happens just the way I imagine it; how easy it is to walk from one dream to another, isn't it? But I didn't walk, because in my world, there are no rules for love. No matter what we call it—whether we call it 'adjustment' or 'compromise'—it goes against my rules. Yet, I liked you very much, and I was afraid of you. To ensure you wouldn't see my cruelty, I hid it and brought that girl to guard you. Apart from Prarthana, I gave every other woman everything I could possibly give. In my language, I call it 'comfort.' It is something a human being can give to another life without expecting anything in return. Does one have to be God to provide such comfort, Doctor Urmila? If an ordinary human is given the name of God and then deceives, is that worthy of forgiveness?"

Himavant, who had been speaking at a steady pace like the moving car, suddenly fell silent. Darkness had entered the car; Urmila could not see his face. Apart from the light cast by the headlights on the road and the occasional glare of oncoming vehicles, there was nothing but darkness beyond the windows, even if she strained her eyes. Urmila sat helplessly, staring into the dark. None of the words Himavant spoke sounded like the ramblings of a flirt. A flirt habituates himself to saying things that please for the moment, but a man capable of loving as deeply as Himavant speaks with intention. It was impossible to give evasive answers to his questions, but there was one question she had to ask herself. She was not a flirt; she had not come to Himavant desiring anything else. She too had rules—these were the very rules Himavant had taught her.

Feeling she could no longer hold back the one question she felt she must ask, she tried to stare at Himavant's face in the dark and finally asked, "Am I not worthy of being expected to give anything other than 'comfort' from us, Himavant?" Her voice was trembling. There was no accusation in the question; was it a plea? She did not know. In that darkness, she could not see how the expressions on Himavant's face changed or where they finally settled. Her palms had become sweaty. Not knowing what else to do, she placed her sweaty palm on his thigh. That touch... "My..."

"Will you answer? Please?" it sounded like a plea. Just as he said "Let's live," Himavant slammed the brakes. His car was already at the Andhra border. There was a row of two or three small tea shops. He parked the car to the side of the road, switched off the lights, and stepped out to fetch tea himself. The two of them stood leaning against the car, drinking tea in the darkness without saying a word. From a water bottle kept under the back seat, they poured water into each other’s cupped hands and washed their faces. Before he could pull a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his wet face, Urmila quickly wiped his forehead, cheeks, neck, and ears with the pallu of her cotton saree. Himavant looked at her with a glance mixed with gratitude. Urmila said nothing; she stepped closer to him in the darkness and simply rested her head on his chest. Himavant was searching for stars in the pitch-black sky. For some reason, his eyes were teary.

A profound silence filled the spacious bungalow named 'Himanshu' in Banjara Hills, Hyderabad. Prarthana had sent off the very last guest who had come to the house that evening. As the news spread that Debu would not survive, relatives, friends, acquaintances, and his father’s business associates had all arrived from everywhere—everyone for their engagement. Discussions had ranged from blaming the girl's luck to speculating about what Debu might have done to bring upon himself an illness that even doctors couldn't understand. Debu’s father, Chandranath Bandopadhyay, sat in stony silence, not interfering in anything and paying no heed to what was being said. Debu’s mother was making the rounds of every temple and dargah in Hyderabad. Candles were being lit continuously in Debu’s name before Infant Jesus. As the illness worsened, Bengali Brahmins were summoned to the bungalow to perform all kinds of rituals and fire sacrifices. A procession of doctors came and went, but not a sliver of hope for recovery appeared in Debu’s health. It was taking on a new form every day. An injection brought today would be rejected by tomorrow; the doctor who visited deemed unnecessary by the next. He had become a bundle of agony, depression, stupor, regret, and delirious mutterings. Sometimes, he would cry out for his mother in a distorted, raspy voice. By the time they ran to him to ask what had happened, he would lose consciousness.

By the time Debu woke up at 3:09, he had no memory of what had happened to him. There was no need for doctors to declare that death was certain; the stench was horrific. No matter how much the room was scrubbed, or how many incense sticks were lit, waves of foul odor kept erupting and filling the room—a stench of rotting intestines and festering sores from beneath his back. Even Debu’s mother, after staying for two minutes to apply some temple vermilion to his forehead, would have to leave, unable to hold back the suffocating grief or the unbearable smell.

Yet, there was one person who remained unshaken: Prarthana. She would enter the room without wearing a mask or gloves, as if the very air had changed for her. She had sat by Debu’s side for days, having barely eaten. Every morning, she would bathe in the adjacent bathroom, put on a clean saree, and take her place beside Debu. Even if he groaned ever so slightly, she would wake up instantly. She had not had a proper sleep in days.

"What kind of debt from a past life does this girl owe?" Chandranath Bandopadhyay would sigh. He, too, had no hope that Debu would survive. He felt that Debu was merely enduring the penance he was destined for, and he had come to the quiet conclusion that it would be a mercy if the suffering ended soon. He had already made all the arrangements: the house needed for his studies, the nursing home to be built after completing his course, and the money research trip abroad. A sentiment had taken hold of him—that perhaps this girl’s prayers might keep his son from suffering any longer.

The relatives filling the house seemed to be waiting for Debu’s death, and this impatience troubled Chandranath deeply. But when Prarthana suddenly came out of the room and ordered all the guests to leave in a firm, steady voice, Chandranath Bandopadhyay looked at her with shock and surprise. The weariness of those many days had vanished from Prarthana’s face, and there was an inexplicable enthusiasm in her gait.

After everyone had left, she came up to Chandranath Bandopadhyay, placed her hand affectionately on his shoulder, and said, "Dad! Debu is going to live. You know, Himavant is coming." As she said this, she began to weep, unable to hold back her tears. And then, a strange, profound silence settled over the bungalow.

Tell me the reason for breaking 310; as the strapping Himavant stepped down from the eight-wheeler SUV that had come to a halt in the courtyard, Prarthana ran towards him with a scream of "Himu!" and collapsed into his embrace right in front of everyone.

Himavant’s robust frame was trembling slightly. Hours had passed since he had last had a cup of tea or anything else to drink. He looked as though he was standing only by the strength of some underlying force. Urmila, who had been sitting in the passenger seat during the long-distance drive, felt dizzy. Despite such exhaustion, only one anxiety plagued her: Himu needed glucose at the very least; he was ravaged by fever. If only Rasool Jamadar had reached by this time, he could have managed Himavant. Even though she was with him, Urmila no longer had the courage to handle Himavant today. He was a volcano that could erupt at any moment, or a structure that could collapse any second.

The one who had driven through the winding roads of Banjara Hills without losing composure, turning the steering wheel and pressing the accelerator, had slammed the brakes the moment he arrived at the bungalow’s main gate and saw the name 'Himanshu' carved into the marble on the adjacent stone pillar. His eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

"Every day, every minute, every second, her memories have haunted me. From the moment she said, 'Urmila, I am getting married somewhere else' in front of that stone house in Gadi koppa, I ceased to remain a human being. Is two and a half years a trivial time, Doctor? Everything related to her existence is a memory. Her being with me something worthy of being recorded in the archives; her not yet another memory. Her asking me to come leave is also a memory, Doctor. Each memory has been burning me little by little. She left without leaving me even a shred of peace. The girl left nothing in me today but immense hatred and ruthless love. How a sea of milk can transform into a pit of fire—there is no greater witness than me. Hatred and anger, along with the power of the soul, have been killing me every passing second."

Tell me the reason / 31

If Debu is burnt to ashes, will I find goodness and peace? I don't know, Sujay. Did Malhotra find peace after he died? He is not before my eyes, with my Prarthana, receiving Prarthana's love. My anger is appeased: just as Sujay was destroyed, Debu must also be destroyed. All the joy he snatched for two and a half years must end in the groans of a moment. All the laughter he laughed must dissolve into the agonizing cries As the final moment nears, blindness comes, Doctor. A blindness that no medical science of ours can cure. Even if he opens his eyes and stares, he will not see Prarthana. hear her voice. Not even the comfort of a single touch will remain. Debu must die every minute. Every detail of his death must be recorded in Prarthana's eyes. Her smile must shatter. Lightning must strike. She must be left on that desolate street in Channarayapatna, with no one she can call her own, begging for help. I had decided to chase her until that point, Doctor... until the moment her call came! Until she called out "Himu" in a voice softened with emotion for just once! Until Prarthana... Prarthana... stammered vaguely, rising from the depths of my well of agony. Until then, I only had hatred, Doctor. It was not a hatred that could end with this lifetime, or so I thought. But with just one word of hers, didn't all that hatred melt away, Doctor? "I am Himu, Prarthana. I am Himu." As soon as I said that, I began to sob softly. My whole body was trembling, I could not stand where I was. I felt as if the poison of hatred that was flowing through my body until that moment had suddenly evaporated, and a exhaustion of centuries had overcome me. I tried so hard to ensure she wouldn't hear me crying, but it was impossible. I fell to the ground and began to wail loudly. The only two sounds she might have heard from the dangling receiver were my wailing and the delirious chanting of "Prarthana." After a long time, what I other end was a small sob and a single question from Prarthana: She didn't ask if I would save her Debu. She didn't beg, "Forgive me, Himu." "Is God so merciless everywhere, Himu?" for anything for herself.

Tell Me Why / 312

"Are you doing well, Himu?" she asked. After that, nothing happened. Doctor, I had given her some instructions on what needed to be done before I arrived. Before hanging up, I made only one request to her: "Vaibhav has made a mistake, please forgive him, Prarthana." I don’t remember what she answered to that. I didn’t have the strength to listen. For the first time, God was so powerless; the monster inside me had died. In what state is Prarthana? I must leave; the only yearning was to see her. I left with you. In the fields of Gadikoppa, I even performed a 'stambhana' (a ritual to halt) for the deadly experiment I had conducted myself. The body has become like a dried-up tree. "I must finish a puja today by sitting in front of Debu’s cot, facing northeast. After that, just one morsel of food and then sleep." If only this one night passes without anxiety, Debu will survive.

Throughout the journey, Himavant kept speaking in a continuous, monotonous tone. Even though he was addressing Urmila, for some reason, it felt to Urmila as if he were explaining things to himself. "Did I know beforehand that all this would happen? Now, everything feels strange. Before? Before falling in love? Before admitting her to the Davanagere college? Or before deciding that I should make her walk barefoot from Channarayapatna all the way to Shivamogga? When did my inner mind suspect doom, Doctor? I truly don’t know. Her clothes, her hair, her fingernails... why did I keep them all? Why was there such preparation in me, days before all this happened? I am a very strong man. man with the fortitude to hold up a mountain with both hands if it were to collapse on me while I rose from the earth. No sorrow that haunts ordinary men can haunt me. That is what I thought, Doctor. There was an insecurity. But deep down, somewhere in the depths, I was very weak. She died. My father used to haunt me from childhood; mother never gave me love. I didn’t even get enough food. Someone who grew up in other people's homes, where else could he find love in this journey of life? Only one person loved me a lot, but even they were lost. After that, I didn’t get attached to anyone. I wasn't even sure if I loved Prarthana. When I sent her out of the house..."

I had the belief that she would tell me the reason before leaving. She herself said, "I love you." I asked her a thousand times if she would stay with me, and finally, one day, I said, "Yes, I love you, I love you," and accepted it. Perhaps that was when the anxiety began. The anxiety that Prarthana might get lost. To someone who has lost everything in life, there is a fear that this too might be lost. You cannot understand that a man, no matter how powerful he appears, is weak somewhere deep down in ways you cannot imagine. Such a man struggles to hold onto the one he has found before she slips away. The struggle I had was of that kind. But I placed a boulder over my fear and my weakness; using that as a foundation, I built a strong personality and earned lakhs of rupees. I educated her, and deciding that none of the money I earned was mine, I handed it over to Shanthappa and came away. I opened my eyes to another new dream.

"You might wonder how someone who can think, imagine, and conceive all this could not understand that a girl named Prarthana was roaming around with a flirt named Debu in Davanagere, just ten calling-distances away. Doctor, every step she took was visible to me. At first, I thought of it as a childish game. I thought it was just a whim. an attraction. But when it started to feel like none of those, Prarthana was being deceitful, do you see? I stopped coming to Davanagere altogether. I was afraid, Doctor. that everything I thought would turn out to be a lie, and everything I suspected true. I was gripped by the fear of what would happen if I lurked in the darkness of the road leading to the Bhatia Dhaba and realized for certain that the two of them were truly betraying me and had started loving each other. I stopped going there. But I didn't lose faith. In my painful silence and my scorched solitude, I kept strengthening my faith in Prarthana over and over. I told myself it was all just a two-day madness. She will come back. Is it possible for someone who dreamt with a person like me to share a life with another? Where is Himavant? Where is Debu? She will understand it one day and return, saying, 'Sorry, Himu. It happened like this, Himu. Can anyone cheat God, Himu?' My goodness! What foolish dreams those were, Doctor!"

"She had respect for me, she had love. First, she lost that respect. Candy..."

"Tell me the reason why / 3]4 'How will this boy who sells sweets support me?' she thought. 'See, respect will die, won't it?' This world is just like that; money creates respect. The one who creates it, dies—that is the irony. That is how her love for Debu was born. It was not born out of respect, Channarayapatna, or love; in Davanagere. The love that sprouted and blossomed in the car, from the hunger, exhaustion, and anxiety felt while traveling between Shivamogga and the dhaba, now lies in a Mercedes bungalow in Banjara Hills. This boy who sells sweets must breathe life into that love! Life is such a fair of ironies, isn't it?

Himavant had no respite throughout the journey. There was no deception in any of his words. When he got out of the car in front of the 'Himanshu' bungalow in Hyderabad, Prarthana ran over, fell into his arms, and sobbed uncontrollably. Himavant, who had been supporting her, could not stand steady and swayed. Urmila, who came to provide support, held him and gently led him into the bungalow. Prarthana walked by his side, step by step.

At the entrance of the house, Debu’s parents stood dressed in stark white Bengali attire, a thin layer of tears in both their eyes. Yet, amidst that, there was a lamp of hope. As soon as Himavant stepped inside mother knelt, touched both his feet, and bowed. Himavant was slightly startled. Prarthana understood his confusion. As Debu’s mother stood up, Prarthana gently moved her aside and led him directly to a room inside the house.

Urmila came up to Prarthana and whispered, "And she needs glucose? And she needs rest?" Himavant heard this, and a faint, involuntary smile appeared on the lips of all three, then vanished.

Himavant said he wanted to bathe. Prarthana herself drew the water and brought him a towel. By the time he finished his bath and came out, she had placed a clean white panche and jubba on the teapoy in the room. was dressed and ready, she had arranged a white sheet in Debu’s room, spread in front of the bed, facing northeast. Although the room had been cleaned only a short while ago, the smell emanating from Debu’s decaying back had already spread throughout the room, creating an unbearable atmosphere. But Himavant, as he stepped into the room, walked toward Debu’s bed as if he hadn't even noticed such an odor. To the roof of the house, Debu's..."

They seemed rooted to the spot. His mouth was half-open, and a couple of ants had already begun to crawl near his ear. Himavant placed his burning palm on Debu’s forehead. Debu’s eyes slowly turned toward him. Had he recognized him? Had he remembered something? With an indistinct, guttural sound, he fell silent, like one who had given up. Prarthana stood at a short distance. There was no one else in the room now. Himavant sat on the spread-out, pristine white sheet, facing northeast for a moment, as if composing himself, and then chanted the Pranava mantra in a clear voice. Prarthana lit the sesame oil lamp she had kept ready. After confirming that all the items he had requested were on the plate, Himavant began the second phase of the 'stambhana' (immobilization) process. Prarthana remained standing—Himavant, as if having forgotten that she was even there, went into a trance and continued chanting. It was a ritual lasting about an hour and three-quarters. He refilled the lamp with oil once in between, and at the end, he touched his finger to the soot of that same lamp and placed dots on the big toes of Debu, who lay motionless on the cot. With that, the ritual concluded. But when Himavant stood up, he had no strength left to walk. Prarthana ran over and offered support. His right arm was now on Prarthana’s shoulder. She led him, struggling with great effort, into the inner room of the bungalow. No one in the bungalow crossed their path. Even though there was a cot in the room, Prarthana spread a mat on the floor. Instead of using a pillow, she sat down herself and let Himavant rest his head on her lap. She unbuttoned his shirt, and with a cloth dipped in cool water, she began wiping his sweaty, warm chest with great affection. It was getting late into the night. Half-asleep from sheer exhaustion, Himavant looked at Prarthana once. Her eyes were a waterfall.

Outside the bungalow, thick darkness spread like sorrow. Everyone in the bungalow was in a deep, undisturbed sleep. For the first time, Debu lay peacefully, without cries, moans, or screams. His parents, too, had fallen into a sound sleep. Exhausted from the journey, Urmila also had her head on the pillow.

They had made a pact before he left. They were careful; in that bungalow, there were only the two of them—Prarthana and Himavant. Because all possibilities of losing themselves had ended. How many days had they waited for this sleepless night? Suddenly, as if a chasm between them had been closed and the ground leveled. It was the same mat as the one in the back room of Sadashivappa’s house in Shivamogga; the same comfortable darkness; in this very house, the same Himavant and Prarthana. Was it two and a half years of separation that had flowed between them? Or pain? Or expectation? Or betrayal? What was it?

"Except for the fact that you’ve gotten a bit thin and a little dark, you haven’t changed much, Himu. I was startled when I saw you get out of the car in the courtyard this evening, but you didn’t seem that weak, Himu. When you were in Shivamogga, you once had a fever. I had held your hand and taken you to the doctor near Shivamurthy Circle. That day, too, your body was burning like a coal. You were swaying and couldn't walk. Do you remember, Himu?" Prarthana asked.

"That night, you were wearing my white shirt over your light blue petticoat—you had forgotten to eat. By the time we returned from the doctor's house, the milk had boiled over. You were telling me the story of the last movie you saw in Channarayapatna... and I had fallen asleep. It was a Tuesday!" Though his voice was low, there was a sense of victory in Himavant’s words. For a moment, Prarthana’s eyes welled up.

"How well you remember all of that, Himu!" she said.

"The reason I remember is because, that day, we both had a love that had grown to the same intensity. More than that, we both needed each other. We were so dependent. You used to call me God; I considered you my life. We would lie side by side on the same mat, but we wouldn’t touch each other. Would it break the spell if we touched? Would the dream break halfway? After all, wasn’t I the one in your dreams? We used to go to sleep thinking just that. We were so necessary and indispensable to each other, Prarthana. Our needs and our compulsions made us remember every single thing. It is only when there is no need and no compulsion that one forgets..."

Just leave? / 311

"Are you going to come back?" Himavant asked, speaking while searching for her face in the darkness. She did not answer immediately. A dense silence began to play between them. "You are very grumpy, Himu!" Suddenly, the tone and direction of the conversation shifted, as if she had effortlessly let go of all previous sounds, Prarthana steered the conversation in a new direction. "Yes, Giddi, I didn't have as much patience as you. But do you know how much patience you have cultivated since joining college? I used to get restless the moment I felt hungry. When I learned that your hostel wouldn't serve dinner until nine o'clock, I wouldn't eat until nine, no matter how hungry I was," he said, sounding innocent. "Sometimes, something would remind me of you, and I would get up halfway through. Why would tears fall while I was washing my dry hands? Why did all that happen, Prarthana?" he asked. "Because long before nine o'clock, I would be sitting at a dhaba with Debu, drinking whiskey, having forgotten everything. I had become so oblivious that it didn't even occur to me that you might be hungry. You are a god, Himu. Didn't you know that? What does a god do when he finds out? The elder one just sheds tears and stays alone. We are the ones who are human. We live by lying to ourselves!" Saying this, she became overwhelmed with emotion. Calling her "Giddi," he wiped the tears that seemed to be freezing on Prarthana's cheeks in that darkness, with a sense of tenderness. When overflowing with love, Himavant would call Prarthana "Giddi" just like that. "Whatever else you say, I won't be satisfied, look. As soon as you say 'Giddi,' it makes me feel like it is just me. Because Himu, I know that in this lifetime, I will never be able to grow to your height. This is all there is for this life," Prarthana sighed. Then, they both talked about Channarayapatna, about Shivamogga, about Nandakka, about the terrace where they used to sit together in the nights, about the excitement of the early mornings when leaving for Davangere, about the sadness that would seize them both as soon as they reached the bus stand, and about the vast distance of miles that spread between them. They talked incessantly. While talking, Prarthana lay down on the same mat, placing her head on Himavant's arm as a pillow, right beside him. He stroked her hair once with cool, affectionate tenderness.

Tell me the reason / 318

For some reason, there was no tension between the two of them. It was not a feeling that would overflow and break the banks. Somewhere, their eyes seemed to fill up. Following that, sadness too—Prarthana was becoming more emotional than Himavant. Their silent words turned toward consolation, toward Debu. Suddenly, they had to return to Channarayapatna. When talking about Dad, about Mom, about sister-in-law—uh-uh, even anyone, they were not gripped by the intense tension that Dad usually had. Prarthana said, "Is my nature just like this, Himu? Leaving things behind. Afterward, I forget everything so completely that it's as if I wasn't even there. From the moment I left Channarayapatna holding your hand until I reached Shivamogga, I didn't remember home for even a single day. Having left Shivamogga, I even forgot you there; I lived with Debu as if there was no world other than him. Why all that? Look at what has happened now; until last night, until the evening, I hadn't stepped out of the room even for a moment, leaving Debu. I sat in front of Debu as if I were guarding his life. Now, I don't even remember Debu’s illness. Is this what a woman is, Himu?" There was anxiety in the voice of the one who asked. "Whether it is being a woman, or forgetting, or necessity, or adjustment—it all feels like the same thing, Prarthana! No matter how profound a love is, if there is no necessity, I have realized that it won't last long. We love for our own necessities. We think we cannot live without those we love; we just forget that it is only necessity that binds us both, Prarthana!" After Himavant said this, silence fell again. After a long time, Prarthana asked, "Himu, I am a very bad person, aren't I?" Himavant replied, "Just like love, badness and deceit are also born out of necessity. Did you know that? Until I knew that, I felt you were very bad. Now I don't feel that way. I don't know what I will feel tomorrow. How can I call you a bad person when, even after so many years, you are lying on a mat next to me and talking just like that day? What should I do?" asked Himavant. "Just because you know I am truly bad, kill me, Himu," Prarthana began to sob. "Forget everything for a while; lie down peacefully and sleep."

"Tell Me the Reason / 319"

Only someone truly wicked could do all that. By morning, Rasool Jamadar had arrived at the bungalow's compound gate. "It has been a long time since you saw me, hasn't it?" Himavant said, beckoning him inside. "I have a place for him to stay. I wake up at dawn and start my work. Since you are still sleepy, first go and fill the oil lamp kept in front of Debu." Saying this, as if that were enough, he laid his forearm across his eyes and fell back asleep.

When she woke up, Himavant was not by her side. As evidence that he had stepped out early, wet footprints were imprinted on the floor leading from the bathroom. Thinking he might be in Debu’s room, she hurried there, but to be seen. Worried that he might have gone himself to bring Rasool Jamadar inside, she looked past the window of Debu’s room. In the expansive garden behind the bungalow, Himavant was visible, standing with his hands folded towards the east. The cool morning breeze was drying his wet clothes. Just in the posture he stood, for some reason, it felt as though Himavant had found peace.

Prarthana looked at Debu once. Although his face was distorted by a deep sleep, the lines of agony that had been there until yesterday were gone. The oil lamp near his feet was burning softly. Caressing Debu’s forehead once, she remembered Rasool Jamadar, who might be waiting at the compound gate, and rushed towards it.

"Koi, hato!" (Someone, move!) said the guard in Hyderabadi Urdu. As she slid the tall gate open and stepped out, she saw Rasool Jamadar sitting hunched over on a stone bench across the road. Beside him was a small bundle. His white, stubbly beard had grown unruly. "Oh, how has Rasool Jamadar become such an old man so quickly?" she thought.

Seeing her, he picked up the bundle beside him and ran towards the bungalow. Standing very close to her, he began to sob uncontrollably, uttering only half-finished words like, "Yaa amma..."

The guard looked on in surprise. Without saying a word to him, Prarthana slowly took Rasool Jamadar by the forearm and led him into the bungalow. One thing had become clearly unfolded. After that, events began to unfold that no one could have predicted for Debu.

Although there was no sign of him returning to consciousness, the strange symptoms of his illness began to disappear one by one inside the bungalow. Himavant had forbidden the doctors from visiting, stating that there was a rule that no one should remain The compound watchman did not enter the bungalow, and likewise, no one was allowed to enter the room where Himavant remained, except for Prarthana. Himavant spent most of his time performing rituals sitting in front of Debu. Whenever he got a break, he would go and sit in the backyard garden. Now, Prarthana kept watch over his every move. Since the day he arrived at the bungalow, his fever had not decreased even slightly. It felt as if his physical strength was declining day by day. However, he spoke a lot with Prarthana. Between the moments of big laughter and eyes welling up with tears that would vanish within the lashes, they talked about when they met two and a half years ago, their falling in love, and her leaving from Shivamogga to Davanagere—as if nothing else related to Debu had happened since then. Sometimes, even Debu would come to their memory. For the first two days, Prarthana felt uneasy. Then, gradually, she started acting as if the talk regarding Debu had nothing to do with her. She did every task for Himavant herself. As long as he was inside Debu's room, Prarthana would also remain in front of Debu. Everyone in the bungalow, except for Debu, knew that she was sleeping in Himavant's room at night, but she hadn't even told Urmila about the fact that they were sleeping on the same mat. Since everyone else was anxious only for Debu's life to be saved and for him to return to consciousness, none of them bothered about Prarthana’s behavior. But only one figure in that bungalow was agitated: full of anxiety. Seeing Prarthana and Himavant sitting leaning against each other on a stone bench in the backyard of the bungalow, peering from a distant window, the figure said to itself: "There are no signs of Debu regaining consciousness. Something else is going on." The name of the figure who said that was Urmila.

(( "After all, what is your intention?" On the fifth afternoon of arriving at the bungalow

"Go and tell [Reason 32]," Urmi asked Prarthana. "Saving a life?" Prarthana had answered without a second thought. "Whose life? Debu's? Or Himavant's?" Urmi's question had sprung up the very next moment. Where did Prarthana have the strength to answer? She just stood there, looking at Urmi with frightened eyes. It felt as if time had frozen there. Even the wind blowing through the leaves of the backyard plants seemed to have stilled. The two girls standing in the large courtyard in front of the house were staring at each other without blinking. Both had questions, but neither had answers. Whose life is going to be lost? Who is being saved? And who is making the effort to save whom? To Urmi's questions, which rose one after another, she only replied, "I don't know either, Didi," and the moisture in her voice had dried up.

In the midday sun, the compound around the bungalow was deserted. Sitting in the corner of the compound in the shade of a wall, Rasool Jamadar was watching the two of them with wide eyes. He could not hear their words, yet the questions swirling between them began to haunt him too. Why is Prarthana acting like this? Why did she call for Himavant? Is it only to save Debu's life? If so, what is the reason for this behavior toward Himavant? Has Prarthana changed her mind? Once Debu's life is saved and he recovers and sits up, will she return to her old life with Himavant the very next moment? Does she realize her mistake? Or is she writing a preface to yet another unforgivable mistake? What answer will she give Debu? And if she returns to Himavant, who is there to stop her? He knows what Himavant's love is like; he would accept Prarthana again in any situation. Forgiveness is always ready in his heart. But what about the Doctor's life? Does her love and the way she has cared for him all these days mean nothing? Why is life playing such games with these three souls? Will Debu even survive? Will Himavant be sacrificed? Bewildered by questions that were beyond his reach and understanding, Rasool Jamadar felt that although he had permission to enter the bungalow, he... [text incomplete]

He had never seen them up close. Rasool Jamadar could have sent them, if necessary, from a bookstore in a lane in Hyderabad where Prarthana lived, sending them through Charminar. Prarthana had not spoken much with him. She was rarely available. The irony was that even before Urmila, it was Rasool Jamadar who used to want to ask questions—and he would ask them as soon as they came to mind. Prarthana, who was troubled by these questions, wondered why she acted this way. What promise had she given Himavant at the moment of departure, and what had she called him?

Himavant had not left Shivamogga in a hurry. He knew that very well. It was not a fascination that made him leave in such a rush; it was merely the desire to save Debu's life. He drove with determination that day; he had no other obsession. He did not act out of a craving for the lover of a god; he acted out of the compassion to overturn a death sentence. But what happened to the judge? He was restless.

"How is Himu now?" Urmila asked, her voice ringing like bronze. "He is fine, Didi. Only the fever has not subsided. He gets tired quickly. I am scared, Didi," Prarthana said. "Scared of what? What are you afraid of? I need to speak to him today. I must see Himu. It may be true that he loved you, Prarthana, but I also have a claim over him. Because..." Urmila became too choked with emotion to speak further.

"Himavant may have rejected me. He may have told me to go away. said he has no love for me. But no one can force anyone not to love, right, Munni? For that reason alone, I have a claim over him. I must see him today!" The tears in the corners of Urmila's eyes had said everything.

Prarthana did not answer anything. She squeezed the forearm of the woman standing before her in a reassuring way and walked into the inner room. Himavant, who was just getting up after finishing his prayers before Debu's cot, showed his exhaustion in the swaying of his body. To look at him, he had not grown very frail.

Tell Me the Reason / 323

But he had become exhausted, as if some inner life-spring had dried up. His weary body, clad in a dhoti and covered with a shawl, was drenched in sweat. Prarthana entered the room, offered him a hand to help him stand, and then wiped his sweaty forehead, shoulders, and chest with a soft white towel. Himavant, staring at the peaceful face of Debu, who lay motionless, laughed inwardly for some reason. "She is someone else's woman, someone else's wife; should I think she is serving me? Or my wife, and has settled down here?" He smiled slightly, feeling that both questions were meaningless. Prarthana did not understand that. As she held his hand and led him from that room to Himavant's room, she said, "Urmi Didi wants to see you, Himu..." He interrupted, "That life! It just keeps restless. Tell her to come; let's sit in the backyard after your dinner tonight." Prarthana felt a sense of relief for some reason. In the afternoon, he had some milk and fruits brought. He spoke playfully with Prarthana. While talking, Prarthana provided support for his head by placing it on her lap on the mat. She stroked him comfortably, gripping and pressing the locks of hair on his forehead with her fingers. Himavant fell asleep in moments. She placed a pillow under his head, carefully lowered it onto the mat without waking him, and hurried back to the corridor.

It was extremely hot outside. She went to Urmila, who was sitting at the edge of the corridor looking worn out and exhausted, and said, "Didi, Himu said we should sit in the backyard tonight... that life is just restless for no reason. He said to tell you to come," Prarthana said in an agitated voice. "Nothing will happen to him by tonight, will it?" Urmila's question popped up suddenly. Prarthana was startled and stared at her. Didn't Urmila know that a common fever could not kill a sturdy man like Himavant? It felt as if she was going to be a doctor before her. She did not bother to answer. The two friends sat all afternoon talking only about Debu's strange illnesses, how they appeared, how they vanished, his pain and groans, and the doctors' desperate efforts. They lamented, "In just a few days, how has life dragged the three of us from the college campus in Davanagere and brought us to this directionless edge?" They remembered that college, the hostel corridors...

Tell Me Before You Leave 324

The silence of the library; Bathi’s dhaba; the road to Harihara, Gundichattra—they remembered everything. Although both were simultaneously reminded of Sujay’s old house, neither spoke about it. When words felt insufficient, they went to Debu’s room and checked the bedsheets, pillow covers, and Debu’s clothes. Debu, who had been suffering from a horrific skin disease, was shedding his old skin, which was drying and falling off, and new skin was growing in its place. The scales that covered his head and body were disappearing; most importantly, the repulsive smell that used to emanate from his body was no longer as strong as before. His eyebrows had started to grow back. Even though he was recovering, it would take at least four to five months for Debu to get up and walk around like before.

"Will he stay in this house for that long?" Urmila asked.

"I don't know, Didi," Prarthana replied. There was a sense of uncertainty in her voice, as if she were wondering who knows where anyone will be for how long.

"Debu is getting better now. There is no danger to his life. I was thinking of suggesting tonight that we return to Shivamogga..." Saying this, she looked at Prarthana’s face for a reaction. Prarthana’s expression was emotionless.

Himavant insisted that Prarthana should give him his evening bath. "Why are you being so stubborn today, God?" she asked. She placed a small stool in the bathroom, arranged a new dhoti, a jubba, a milk-white towel, and soap, and led Himavant inside by the hand. His fever felt slightly intense, but Himavant sat quietly on the marble floor of the bathroom like a small child and let her bathe him. After he changed his clothes and came out, Prarthana dried his hair and combed it. The god was smiling.

That night, Himavant sat absorbed in front of Debu, performing rituals until eleven o'clock. When he came to the backyard garden, Prarthana draped a wool shawl over his back. Urmila watched from the large doorway as Prarthana led him toward the three chairs placed a short distance away. For some reason, she watched them with an unbearable impatience.

"Giving a chance to pinch the hands that are swaying—isn't that one of the ironies of life?" she asked herself.

In the darkness, Himavant recognized her standing a short distance from the chairs. "Doctor," he said. Prarthana was startled.

Tell Me Before You Go 325

Realizing that no one other than himself had ever addressed him as ‘Doctor’, he stepped forward suddenly. Urmila caught Himavant’s arm and moved so close that she could have rested her head on his chest. "Himu..." she said. In that moment, Himavant seemed to have transitioned from Prarthana’s care into Urmila’s guardianship. She took his hand, led him to a chair, and made him sit.

On the horizon, the stars were gathered, and the moon was in its ninth day. Himavant’s eyes were cool; there was a relief soaked in tranquility in them. For a while, no one spoke. Prarthana sat on a chair to the left, close to Himavant’s chair. Dressed in a stark white cotton saree, with fresh jasmine in her hair, she looked as if all the happiness in the world had gathered upon her. Urmila did not sit on a chair. She sat on the floor by Himavant’s feet, holding one of his hands very gently. For a moment, the situation was such that it was unclear who among the three was consoling whom.

"How is Debu, Himu?" Urmila was the first to break the silence.

"A few more days. His sleep needs to end. Then he will wake up and walk around just fine," Himavant replied.

"Will we need the help of doctors?" Urmila asked.

"No," Himavant answered.

"If so, shall we go to Shivamogga? The work we came for is finished, isn't it?"

"You need rest. The fever hasn't subsided yet. It feels like wringing the life out of someone who has just been saved. You have already lost so much weight. If the blood pressure causes a problem for your life—?"

"Himu... the layout work hasn't been looked into yet. Rasool Jamadar has also been saying that we should head back to Shivamogga. I don't feel like living here; everything has come to a standstill."

Himavant spoke as if he were unaware of anyone else's presence. Opposite him, Prarthana began to tremble. She rested her face on Himavant's right knee and began to sob. He looked at the stars gathered in the sky, then down at Urmila’s head, and finally at the two of them. The words he spoke next made the very souls of those two women tremble.

"Only a five-day deadline left. After that, who stays with whom? Who departs with whom? If I leave after five days, who will remain with Rasool? Let it be..."

Tell Me Why 326

Himavant fell silent, speaking as if that were his final decision. Neither girl had the courage to continue the conversation. Urmila, having recovered somehow, checked his blood pressure. Prarthana had noticed the moisture in his eyes long ago; Urmila’s eyes had met Himavant’s blood pressure readings. Ignoring the friends who were talking to each other, Himavant stood up, saying, "It is over for today." Just as he was about to step into the house, he saw a figure moving towards him in the backyard. It was Rasool Jamadar. He called over the man, who was sobbing in the darkness, and affectionately placed a hand on his shoulder. Then, without saying a word, he walked inside and bolted the room door from the inside with Prarthana. Thus, an ending had opened up to a beginning.

Himavant, resting his head on Prarthana’s lap, was breathing feebly. The fever was still lingering. Since the day he arrived, Prarthana had changed the cold compress on his forehead so many times that the skin had turned red and started peeling off. His eyes had sunk deep into their sockets, and his cheekbones were protruding. Despite all this, the radiance on Himavant’s face had not diminished. He looked exhausted, but not sorrowful. If a body were to be conquered, he seemed more content than he had been during his days in Shivamogga. Once one understands that a kind of joy exists regardless of physical suffering, a human being seems to live for a thousand years. That was exactly what Debu lacked! For him, every joy had to come from the outside—from money, bungalows, beauty, women, Mercedes, or whiskey. In the end, he set out to live by sourcing happiness from Prarthana. Physical suffering was the only spring that drained his vitality. Even before he left Davanagere, when his health had slightly derailed, Debu’s empire of happiness had collapsed. This was because the joy that springs from within simply did not exist in him; he wandered for himself, loved for himself, and sought to hoard happiness solely for himself. "So, did you think I did all this for you, Prarthana?"

Tell me and go, reason 327 The atmosphere outside was dark and misty, like a mixture of darkness and water, and the wall of the room was drenched in it; the floor cold, and Himavant's head was spinning. Prarthana stared at Himavant in the darkness, her voice firm. "You might think that I've done all this for your sake, but I've done it all for you, and now I'm telling you to leave. I've given up my education, my college, my dreams, everything, just for you. I've been searching for a girl like you, and I've been willing to do anything for you. You have a unique personality, lucky to have you.

In the streets of Shivamogga, I used to sell sweets and dream of making the girl I loved a doctor. I had the courage to pursue my dreams, and I've done everything for you. When I came to Channarayapatna, I felt like I was living my dream. Seeing you walk alone in the hostel, wearing a white coat, was a great joy for me. It was like a kite flying high in the sky, and on top of the world.

The thread of fate is in my hands, and I feel like the paper bird is flying high, searching for its love and coming back to me. If I lose the thread, I'll be left with nothing but sorrow. You were worried about what would happen to me, and every moment we spent together is etched in my memory. Your every word, every movement, every breath, is still with me. I was afraid of being away from you, and you were afraid of losing me.

I lay down next to you, like a rock, and forgot how to speak. In the morning, when you left, your eyes were red, and I remember that. The water in the well was calm, and I was in a deep sleep. It was as if God had given me a rare gift, and I believed that it couldn't be a mistake.

Now, I'm asking you to accept me, to take me as I am. Tomorrow, I don't know what will happen to me, but I know that I'll be yours. Rasool Jamadar, who was watching us, is still in my mind. I remember the way you looked at me, and you were searching for me. I'm ready to do anything for you, and forever.

"No, Prarthana; it is not just that. I had decided that until you told me yourself, I would not go looking for proof of your deceits and ruin my own peace of mind. I stayed silent, thinking that even if it were an illusion, I wanted the end of the kite’s string to remain in my hand for a few more days. Perhaps I could have tried to keep you? But there was the risk that the more I tried, the further you would drift away from me. Besides, am I such an insensitive human that I couldn't understand the deceit of the girl I loved so much, at every single step? Every step you took toward Debu passed right through me. I didn't stop you. I didn't ask why. I stayed silent, not because I didn't understand your deception, but for fear that if I asked, my dream would shatter. Like a boy who has lost his kite, I had a crazy hope that someday it would descend on its own; that it would tell me the reason it slipped away. And if it didn't tell me, I would stop it with my hands and ask: 'Tell before you go!'

Somewhere, once it became certain that you were slipping away, I had this desire to become a 'Mahatma'. A stubbornness to see that dream through to the end, even knowing that everything would eventually turn out to be a lie. A crazy hope that, at the very least, you would keep your deception hidden for five years—a foolishness to willingly endure such betrayal. But Prarthana, how good you are! You couldn't even hide the truth that the dream had branched off from me. If you hadn't come to Gadi-koppa and blurted out, 'I am marrying someone else,' perhaps my dream and my happiness would have continued for another two and a half years.

The anger I felt was not at you. It your deception. It was the distress of seeing my dream broken in half. That is why I was angry; did all the things I shouldn't have. Today, everything needs to find an end. I left the half-grown dream lying in the fields of Gadi-koppa, and the other half is smoldering in a Davanagere college. Do you know, my friend, how unbearable life becomes if it doesn't see an end? Just as I promised, I have saved Debu's life. Now, it is your turn. Will you fulfill one wish of mine, Prarthana? Perhaps the last one?"

It was evident that Himavant, who had been speaking incessantly, was growing exhausted; but as he asked the final question, his eyes suddenly became moist. "Will you fulfill my last wish?"

Tell Me the Reason / 329

Her voice was trembling. "What is it, Himavant?" she asked over the telephone. He had asked that question only after agreeing to leave Shivamogga. Before that, there was only the desperation to save Debu's life; that was why he had come to Hyderabad.

As Himavant stepped into the bungalow, a thought crossed his mind: What if she did not agree? Would Debu live? Would it even be possible to fulfill his desires? How much more deception? She had already dedicated her life to Debu. Whether Debu lived or died, she would not cross the threshold of this bungalow with another man again, even if that man were God himself... No! But now, even God was beginning to ask for a boon.

"What do you say, Himoo?" Prarthana asked again. "There are only four days left until tomorrow; the puja performed on the full moon night will be the final one. Debu will regain consciousness; it may take some time for him to walk about, but that is not a major issue. The day after I will also be recovered; that puja. By evening, the fever will subside, and if I can just eat a morsel fed by your hands, everything will be cleared and become crystal clear. If you really insist, I will explain everything to Debu. The responsibility of explaining it to his parents is also mine. I will drive all the way to Shivamogga myself; the car will be mine. You just have to come with me without saying no! I will take care of all the other responsibilities. A half-finished dream in the fields of Gadekoppa is waiting for you, Himoo. There is mother's jewelry. It is your house. nursing... even if it is for all those things, you must come; you absolutely must come."

Himavant stopped speaking. Time seemed to have stood still in the room. Prarthana sat there, frozen like a log. Had she gone through all this just to be ordered and commanded to leave? Did he hope that she would return if he brought these things up? Was he the one she had thought was a god to Debu’s life? Tears began to fall from her eyes, whether from the heat of his fever or something else. Resting his head on her lap, he had fallen asleep just like that. He had started with a question—"Will you give me something of yours?"—and ended his words with the promise of fulfilling a desire—"You must come, you absolutely must come."

She felt like going to the backyard and letting out a loud cry. By the third watch of the night, unable to bear the way Himavant’s voice had sounded, she entered Debu’s room, a pillow in her hand.

Tell Me and Go: 330

Looking at his face as he lay unconscious, Prarthana cried out loudly, "Why are you doing this, Debu?" They say the dead open their eyes on a full moon night; why would they? Why does Debu come back to life time and again? Was it just so that Prarthana could witness yet another deception of a girl named [K31]? As she sobbed, a figure walked slowly and heavily from the backyard towards the window. A terrifying silence hung over the bungalow; no one spoke to anyone.

Prarthana herself had taken Himavant to the bathroom as usual. There was no connection between his behavior now and the words he had spoken the previous night; he walked like a puppet, without any other desire in his touch. This had been Himavant’s nature from the beginning; he knew how to restrain his desires. But the determination in his voice when he said, "You must come to the plains of Gādikoppa," did not feel innocent to her at all. When he asked that, when he commanded it as if it were his final word, was there a hooded serpent in Himavant’s eyes? The darkness of desire could not be seen.

Although Prarthana did not discuss this matter directly with Urmila, Rasool Jamadar had overheard the words she spoke to the unconscious Debu while standing outside the window. That very afternoon, he had called Urmila and expressed his final suspicions. Listening to all of it, Urmila’s skin began to prickle. She thought of asking Prarthana, "Is all of this true?" but as the full moon neared, Himavant would not stay away from her even for a moment; he ensured, perhaps inadvertently, that she never stepped out of the room he was in. At the same time, the nature of the rituals began to intensify. Himavant would collapse to the floor, exhausted by the heat of his fever, but as the full moon neared, his eyes began to glow brilliantly.

"We must leave now!" Himavant said in a tone of firm resolve. In the center of the bungalow, everyone stood with faces full of anxiety. Debu was sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room. Prarthana was crying. Without asking anyone for permission, and without even a courtesy of a goodbye, Himavant went straight...

33 ]
Prarthana walked into her car. The journey was long.

She walked around the entire bungalow once. She stood for a moment in the room where the gods were kept, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask for anything. When she came to the central hall, seeing Debu sitting on the sofa made the bungalow feel suffocating. What happiness did Debu find by marrying me? The joy he felt in the early days, when the buds of affection blossomed, was the end of it; everything he experienced as love was a horrific hell. And wasn’t all of that because of me? If I hadn't sought his proximity afterward, would Debu have ended up in this state? That handsome man, who used to fly around like a bird, what a state he has been reduced to. With his hair falling out, eyebrows thinning, skin peeling all over his body, and looking utterly grotesque—seeing Debu made it seem as though he were paying the tax for the sins I committed. When will he ever be alright? Did he have to face such unbearable consequences just for spending a few days in joy with me? And what had that boy done, Sujay Malhotra? He was minding his own business. Was he a good boy or a bad one? That is irrelevant. He hadn't come to me on his own, had he? It was I who, out of stubbornness regarding Debu, pulled Sujay, who was somewhere else, into the dark road of destiny. In the state of intoxication I was in, I tried to make a mistake; it was just an impulsive attempt by a girl under the influence. a foolish act that a boy who easily fell into my hands could commit. After fighting for a while, didn't the soreness in my body subside? I wasn't some girl easily available to be pushed around. Even after returning to Davanagere, though I felt wilted, I remained who I was. Even though he behaved like a fool under the same intoxication one day at the hostel, whenever we met later, there was a sense of guilt. I felt like saying, "Let it go, let's forget it. The mistake was mine too that day; let's be friends." Sujay fell ill and eventually died. What a tragic death that was. Just because a boy, intoxicated by passion, let his hands rest on my shoulders, did he have to suffer such a painful death? What happiness did he get that he had to pay such a tax?

Tell me the reason 332

Had it to be built? Which man who loved her, who approached her, had been happy? What happiness had she given Himavant? Was it some deception of his today; was it a wrong decision that brought so many lives to this state? If she were to apologize for a small mistake of a girl, who would she end up destroying? Whom should she ask? Himavant? Debu? Sujay, who is no longer on this earth? Or Debu’s parents who are leaving now? How could she even leave this house for Channarayapatna? Instead of that, should she fall into the deep well in the corner of the backyard and lose her life? Prarthana’s mind was in turmoil. Standing in the middle of the hall, she could clearly see Himavant sitting in the car parked in the portico, holding the steering wheel. She saw Debu sitting on the sofa, looking defeated. In front of him sat his parents, motionless, looking as if they couldn't think of anything. She saw Urmi Didi pacing the veranda impatiently. Before anyone could know that she had committed suicide, her life would be gone. Dying by suffocation in water is called asphyxia. Should she just run to the backyard and jump into the well? As she thought this and took two steps back, she saw Rasool Jamadar standing like a guard by the well in the corner of the backyard. She felt both surprise and anger at Himavant’s precaution; the thought of suicide remained just a thought. She looked once more at the person sitting like a still picture inside the car in the portico: today, no power in the world could change Himavant’s decision. He would not yield to any request, any plea, any threat, or any persuasion. For no reason would he leave her in this bungalow and return to Shivamogga! That was the deal he had made with her beforehand; he had come to Hyderabad only after she had given her complete consent. Who knew better than her how bitter the stubbornness of a candy seller could be? Himavant might break if he had to, he might be shattered, destroyed, ruined; but he would not bow down. He was not a warrior who lost a battle so easily. leave from here today without taking her along. The debt of this bungalow was over. As she became certain of this, Prarthana stood ready for everything that was about to happen; she set all the turmoil aside, took a deep breath once, and then everything...

Heli Hogu Karana / 338
She touched the feet of Debu's father and mother in respect. When Debu's father mechanically patted her head and stroked her back with affection, she could not hold back her grief and burst into deep sobs. But suppressing her rising tears, when she approached Debu, who sat on the sofa looking stunned, her mind became as still as a lake, and the volcano of all her emotions suddenly went cold. "Good bye Debu..." she said, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, and unable to stand there any longer, she started walking towards the portico.
As she was crossing the veranda, Debu tried to make a sound to say something. Fearing that hearing his faint voice just once more would shatter her heart, she quickly stepped towards Urmi, who was standing on the veranda, and said, "Let's go, Didi, let's go!"
"No, he wants you alone in the car. He has instructed that none of us should accompany you, Himu. You go, we will come in another car. Me, Jamadar, and Debu!" Urmi said.
A storm raged in Prarthana's eyes. Where is Debu coming? Why is he coming? Oh Lord, what else is bound to happen? Prarthana asked out loud.
"It will take weeks for Debu to fully recover. A doctor must always be with him. If not a doctor, at least an attendant. You are leaving out of necessity. Debu's parents cannot look after him in this state. I know a doctor in Shivamogga who runs a nursing home. I don't feel like taking him to Davanagere College in this condition. People shouldn't see Debu, who was so handsome, in this state. It seems I have got used to all this. You leave someone behind, and I end up deciding to attend to them. Why does it happen this way? I don't understand why life repeatedly brings both of us to such crossroads. You go, I will convince his parents, take him and come to Shivamogga in a taxi. I will try to meet you..." Urmi spoke in a pained voice. All of Prarthana's questions, curiosity, and anxieties died in a single stroke, and it felt as though she was returning to that same familiar life in Shivamogga with Himavant.

Tell me the reason / 334

For the woman who was returning, what did it matter where Debu had gone or who he was with? As Prarthana walked toward the car, holding back her tears, she saw Rasool Jamadar walking toward the compound gate of the bungalow. It was further proof that Himavant had decided everything beforehand. She did not need to turn back to see if Debu would appear before she got into the car. She had already looked. Urmila was standing across the doorway.

Himavant’s exuberance was visible as he pressed the accelerator pedal of the car. On the car's stereo, an unknown singer was singing in a soaring voice. Himavant's rough pants, the rough khadi jubba he wore, the beard that had grown and spread across his cheeks, and the glimmer of a smile moving in his sunken eyes—Prarthana sat observing each of these things one by one. Although Debu kept coming to mind, her heart refused to compare the two. She had loved Debu with such intense emotion that she was mesmerized, to the point where it was impossible to articulate it.

What she had with Himavant was a kind of cool love, a divine devotion, a sort of magic. It was true that when she embraced Himavant, who lay beside her during the sleepless nights, as close as a soul, all her desires would awaken and her body would become attuned; yet, he did not haunt her like an unbearable craving the way Debu did. When Himavant touched her, it was like the lotus stem in the depths of a lake feeling the touch of some unknown trunk, causing a tremor; but the desire that surged like clouds colliding to release torrential rain was something that only arose when she was with Debu.

"Will I be able to adjust to Himu now? Is it I who will adjust, or my body? And for how long will I live by adjusting like that? Will I even be alive?" Millions of girls who marry men they do not love stay alive, don't they? They even have children; their families go on. The boy they loved remains in some corner of their heart like a small scar, just a memory. He remains as long as she lives. Is Debu also going to be just that?

"There is a hut by the side of the road. They make wonderful chai. Will you have some tea?" Himavant asked, slowing the car. The unknown singer on the stereo was now singing in a soft voice. The two of them got out of the car to drink tea. An evening was slowly blossoming in the sky, and the cool breeze that was blowing...

Everything was scattered; a cold breeze brushed against Prarthana’s front locks. She stood up abruptly, and the tea in her cup sloshed, nearly spilling due to the wind. She quickly placed the cup on the shop’s ledge and ran toward the car. Prarthana shivered instantly. Himavant brought a shawl and draped it over her. "How much love and affection!" said the grandmother at the tea shop, smiling at Himavant's wife. After many days of chatter, Himavant handed some money to the shopkeeper, along with Prarthana's empty cup. He then put his arm around Prarthana's shoulder, held her, and led her toward the car with a unique tenderness.

"Himu, back then, I used to love it so much when you took such good care of me," Prarthana said. "Do you know?"

Himavant didn't even ask the question "And now?" Instead, he said, "Taking care of you like this is something I will always love." Saying this, he inserted the key into the car’s ignition and started the engine. For a moment, Prarthana felt like stepping out of the car immediately. Was this the same Himavant who, that day, had led her barefoot from Channarayapatna to Shivamogga, with her fingers torn and bleeding? Is Himu who is taking such care of her now while driving her to the prison in Gadikoppa? Is he really the same Himu from back then? Her mind was restless. That Himavant, who led her barefoot and made her wash her feet in the cool water of the pond, was better than this Himavant who had brought her to the car with such care, she thought.

For some reason, as Himavant drove, he was thinking to himself and smiling faintly. No, he was the same Himavant. He was like this then, and he is like this today—his words, his love, and even his touch have not become corrupt. It was she who had changed, her path. Life changed, and her devotion toward him changed. What had become of the innocent, naive girl who started from Channarayapatna by the time she reached the bungalow in Hyderabad? What happened to her loyalty toward Himavant?

Now, she was setting out to live with him again. Urmila, who had thought of living as a prostitute for at least fifteen days, remained Urmila, but she herself had become a discordant prayer. As soon as she thought this, she felt a sense of disgust toward herself. After all, he wasn't someone else, was he? He was the same person who had loved her more than his own life.

Heli Hogu Karana / 341
Why did she agree to go and see him before leaving? Having seen him like that for the last time, is it possible for her to return to life now? No, Debu would never be the same again in her life. Was it right for her to go with Himavant? Was it right to leave Debu in this condition? Was it possible for her to love Himavant? Was it possible to forget Debu in this lifetime? Sitting in silence amidst all these questions, Prarthana's mind was now empty. Once a decision is made in life, shouldn't there be a logical end to it? Thinking about it, she felt a profound exhaustion and drowsiness. She closed her eyes.
When she woke up, the car had stopped. Himavant was taking out his small, strange bundles from the back seat. To her, who had been looking for a house in the deep darkness, what appeared in the midnight gloom was Shivamurthy Circle and the jasmine vine in the compound of Shantappa's house. "Himu, have we arrived here?" she exclaimed. Without a word, carrying his bundles, Himavant walked past Shantappa's house and stood in front of the same old outhouse in the backyard. The third watch of the night had begun—the same third watch that had begun when they had walked from Channarayapatna and reached this room.
Even in that darkness, he took out the key from his pocket, inserted it precisely into the keyhole just like that day, opened the door, and switched on the room's light. Standing at the door, Prarthana suddenly looked down at the big toe of her right foot. That day, the toe had been split and injured. Today, her toe and foot bore the henna of engagement.
"Come inside, Prarthana. From today, from this midnight minute itself, we must build a new life. From this tiny room." Saying this, he began to gently wipe away the dust accumulated in the room. Prarthana remembered that when she had first come to this room, she had stepped in with her left foot. The omen was not right that day; what about today?
Within two minutes, he cleaned up the room, spread a mat in the middle to give her space to change, and sat down in the lotus position with his eyes closed to meditate.

Tell me, Garana 337

Just as she had sat down that day, Prarthana sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought, and lay down half-covered by the same blanket. She was tired. She had slept for a while in the very saree she had worn, but as Himavant’s meditation ended, she felt a heavy drowsiness and drifted off to sleep. By the time she woke up the next morning, Himavant had finished his bath and left. Just like the day before, he brought idlis from the hotel near the Janamurthy circle. There was some kind of hurry in him—was it urgency or excitement? He cleaned the small room himself once more. He set out hot water in the small bathroom in the corner for Prarthana to bathe, told her to get ready, and left for somewhere. By the time he returned, he had some papers in his hand and, in the other, a bunch of jasmine flowers. Prarthana wore a simple green saree with a border—her mother's saree. Thinking she would put on her mother's jewelry after reaching the stone house, he hurried her out. As he locked the door of the small room, there were tears in Prarthana’s eyes. The life she had left from here had gone to so many places only to bring her back here—but in what state? As Prarthana walked toward the car with heavy steps, like a sacrificial lamb walking toward the altar, Himavant was constantly rushing. Outside, the sun was brilliant. As their car turned into the fields of Gadikoppa, Prarthana’s restlessness reached its peak. Just as she had imagined, Rasool Jamadar was seen standing alone in front of the stone house. "Himavant is cornering me from all sides so that I cannot move from here," she thought. There were small, neat rangolis on the steps as if someone had just drawn them. When a girl suddenly passed by in the depths of the inner room, Prarthana wondered if this might be the sister of Rasool Jamadar that Urmila used to talk about. But she was struck with shock, her heart shattering, when she saw Debu sitting leaning against a pillow on the cot in the inner room of the stone house, with Urmila standing beside him! "Oh God! Must all that happen right in front of him? What kind of grudge from a past life is this, Himu?" she thought. Unable to hold back the tears that welled up, Prarthana crossed the room and walked quickly into the interior of the stone house. There stood Himavant! In his hands were their mother’s very old silk saree and bright yellow gold jewelry.

Tell Me the Reason 338 A box of vermilion; two arm-lengths of jasmine; Himavant’s eyes filled with tears. "There is no other way, Prarthana. For today, you have to wear all of this." There was no command in his voice. But it was not a request either. Having said that, he handed everything to her and walked into the half-finished nursing home building, leaning against the stone wall as if to support it. As per his instructions, Rasool Jamadar had brought a black stone idol of Lord Ganesha and installed it in a wall niche. Jabeen had cleaned it by pouring water; for a moment, the eyes of the person standing before it filled up, then emptied just as quickly. Himavant told himself that he should not cry. Prarthana walked out of the inner room; even in that old silk garment and in such a melancholic state of mind, she looked very graceful. Urmila, who had been standing next to Debu, walked over, took her hand, and led her to the Ganesha in the wall niche. There was a drizzle of tears in both their eyes. It was just as they stood before the deity’s niche that Himavant, from inside the stone building, very slowly and carefully began to lead Debu, the child Debashish Chandranath Bandyopadhyay, by the hand. That was when Prarthana saw him. Debu was dressed in a pure white silk dhoti. A silk jubba and a stole over his shoulders. A tiny vermilion mark on his forehead. Even in the disfigurement of his illness, his eyes were somehow shining brilliantly. In the eyes of Rasool Jamadar, who walked behind them, there was an innocent joy. Himavant brought Debu and stood him next to Prarthana, then stood motionless for a moment; try as he might, the tears kept gushing out. "Doctor," his voice became choked. "This dream is yours, it belongs to both of you. A girl from a house in a village near Channarayapatna stands on the street dreaming of becoming a doctor; the one who helped find that dream was a boy selling sweets. What can I do, Doctor? The sweet-seller’s dream ended halfway. The sleep was broken. I lived by loving, only loving; I never grew tired. But look, I fell into hatred? Look, how tired I have become? It feels like my role ends today. Prarthana Layout, Prarthana Nursing Home, a stone house for Prarthana, a name like Himavant for the house... I no longer have the strength left in me to complete this half-finished dream."

Tell me the reason 330 Doctor, that chapter is finished, that night has passed. If not into your hands, into whose hands should I leave my half-fulfilled dream? I am still here; my candy shop is still here. If I fall while being stubborn, the dream will not continue; for today, I am free. Give me permission to leave. These are the documents related to the nursing home. The car parked outside is in the Doctor’s name. Even the calf in the backyard is named Prarthana; only my half-fulfilled dream didn't get a name. I am leaving. Saying this, he looked at Prarthana and Debu to his heart's content one last time. In the movement of his tear-filled eyes, both images became blurred. Unable to stand, Debu felt dizzy, and Prarthana stood by to support him. After a while, leaving him under the care of Rasool Jamadar, she came and stood before Himavant. For a moment, their eyes met. Then, seeing her bow down and touch her forehead to Himavant’s feet, tears welled up in Debu’s eyes. After Himavant left that place, to everyone there, the entire expanse of Gadikoppa began to feel like a deserted night, like a half-fulfilled dream. They stood still like statues until the calf named Prarthana, tied in the backyard, let out a loud "Amba."

% % %

It sounded as if someone knocked on the door. When Himavant, who was in the darkness, came and opened the room door, a ray of light from the large lamps of the Shivamogga circle fell upon the face of the woman standing in the courtyard, dancing. He did not speak a single word; he brought her into the room and closed the door. In the darkness under the Sampige tree outside the compound, Rasool Jamadar’s figure let out a sigh of relief. The arrival of another dream had begun.

Some boys identified themselves with the novel's protagonist, Himavant, and similarly, many girls felt happy and shy, oscillating between the bit of Prarthana and Urmila in their own personalities. They would gently scold me. This novel, which was published as a weekly serial in the newspaper, was a topic of discussion in every household throughout the days it was published. How many boys have stopped me on the street and begged, "Please sir, don't betray Himavant. Make sure he gets Prarthana." How many girls have asked, "Are there really girls as heartless as Prarthana?" There were also those who said, "Publish this serial as a book soon; I need to get this to my girlfriend who left me." Is this a love book? Or the sigh of a wounded heart? - Ravi Belagere