‘What are you planning to do next?’ I asked, after we had come back to our room at Bhakti Niwas.
‘I have an idea and if everything goes well, it can work.’ he replied, sprawling on the bed with his hands beneath his head, staring at the dusty beams of the ceiling. ‘Parichay Mishra is a far more dangerous man than I thought he was. The worse thing about him is that his seemingly radical ideas have a ring of truth and that’s what makes him much more believable than he would otherwise be. That’s the sole reason why he got to Neelu so easily.’
‘What is this plan you are talking about?’ I asked, intrigued. ‘And for what are we going to catch him? He has not done anything wrong in the eyes of the law. He just gives advice and offers opinions. What are we accusing him of exactly?’
‘We are not going to catch him red handed, Sutte, if that’s what you mean because you are right when you said that he has not done anything wrong in the eyes of the law but what we are going to do is to stop his influence on people by scaring him enough.’
‘Scaring him? Of what?’
‘Of his own ideas.’ he replied, as he sat on the bed cross-legged and searched under the pillow for his mint gums. He always had this habit of keeping one under his pillow so that he could get one whenever he wanted. He located a slim packet hiding in a corner, un-wrapped it and threw it into his mouth with a relish.
‘Chiranjeev is his friend, right?’ he asked, contentedly chewing the gum. ‘We will have to get more information on this man if we are to know how he became what he is today. Then only we can devise a good strategy.’
Take the name of the devil and here he comes. Bhrigu was about to get off the bed to go look for the man when I saw the curtain to the door move to a side and a familiar head peeking in.
‘Sir…um…are you free?’
‘Ah! Chiranjeev!’ said my friend happily. ‘The very man I wanted to see! Please, do come in.’
He came in with a shy smile on his face and sat on the stool opposite us. ‘I came here to tell you that Dushehera is round the corner and I am playing the role of Bajrang Bali. Will you care to come and see the show? I will arrange for front row seats.’
‘Of course, of course. Why not?’ Bhrigu replied with a broad smile. ‘I am sure you would give a terrific performance.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ he said, with a smile bright enough to compete with the sun and shifted in his seat with pride and elation.
‘Is your friend, Pundit Parichay Mishra, going to attend the show?’
‘Yes…yes.’ said Chiranjeev quickly. ‘You both are my chief guests. I have already talked to him and he has kindly accepted it. For the last two years he has been coming to see the Ram-Leela. He always praises my performances.’
‘Who won’t?’ replied my friend. ‘This…this friend of yours…He is a very interesting man. Can you tell me how he was as a child?’
‘He was a quiet bird, sir, very quiet.’ replied Chiranjeev. ‘He always had a lost look on his face, like his mind was somewhere else and some of the bullies called him a “Mook Badhir (Deaf-mute)”. He, though, never retaliated once and went about his work quietly. He was a bright student and always came in first or second but the teachers were never much fond of either him or his reticence and he did not seem to care. I think they thought him rude and manner-less. Sir, when a person keeps to himself, people form their own opinions about him and the same happened with him. It was not long enough that with those opinions came terrible rumors and some of them were quite spine chilling. One of the boys, I don’t know who, started this rumor that he was a vampire who had come to prey on us and that’s why he was the way he was. The rumor only got dispelled when his father, the pundit, came to see the principal and asked for this mischief to be put to end at once. After that, we were properly scolded by our class teacher and we stopped teasing him but no one spoke to him either because he had been the reason we had all gotten so thoroughly scolded.’ He took a breath and then began. ‘The teachers disliked him and that was clear in the way they never bothered with him in anyway. They could not scold him, mind you, because he never gave them any reason to. He did his home-work, studied well and always took the first or the second rank. So, they tolerated him but as he sat their staring at them while they taught, it got on their nerves, sir, and once or twice they sent him outside the class just because he was caught staring belligerently at them!’
‘He was indeed peculiar.’ I observed.
‘That he was.’ replied Chiranjeev. ‘And you know how he spent his free time?’
‘How?’ we asked together.
‘While the rest of us made a din and threw paper-planes at each other, he would quietly sit at a corner and read old, very old papers.’
‘Old papers?’
‘Yes sir, old papers. They had become all wrinkly and yellow due to age and he would sit poring over them as they…as they were showing a matinee or something.’ he said and he laughed heartily. ‘Sometimes the bullies would steal those papers and run and that was the only time he would betray strong emotion. He would clench his teeth and run after them hurling invectives. He would only relax when they returned those papers to him. That’s how odd he was.’
‘But…but how did he become your friend?’ Bhrigu asked.
‘Sir, he was never my friend when we were actually in our school together. He was too much of a loner to make any friends and nobody cared much for his gloomy ways either. And anyways, he left school after matriculation. Later, we came to know that he had gone to the city for further education. He was a ghost while he was with us and when he was gone, we scarcely felt his absence. The teachers too, took a breather and they were a lot relaxed now that he was gone.’
‘A child who could so upset grown-ups?’ said Bhrigu almost to himself.
‘I made his acquaintance…’ went on Chiranjeev. ‘…when he came back to the village, seven years ago. I did not even recognize him when I first met him and he was the one who jogged my memory. I wonder how he knew who I was. I had changed a lot since our school days. I asked after him and how his life had been and he said that he had taken a degree in scriptures from a prestigious university and had become a professor there, after completing his masters. He said that he was enjoying his job when he heard of his father’s demise. He came to the village for the last rites but went back soon after. He did not return for a decade after that but then this village, Krishna Dwar, came into the limelight for all the efforts taken by the government for the renovation of its four mighty temples and the project became a hit. The place was attracting a lot of tourists, both from India and abroad and there was this vacancy for four learned Pundits to preside over the four magnificent temples. Bhanuk; that’s what his name was before he changed it to what it is today, also applied for it and they selected him for one as his credentials were quite impressive. Now, along with the temples, he, too, has become a sight of attraction. You have heard of his terrific discussions, haven’t you, sir?’
‘Yes, although you forgot to tell us.’
‘Did I?’ he said with a hint of surprise. ‘I…I must have forgotten, then. Anyways, as I was saying, he was the one who sought me out and I was surprised to see how much he had changed. From a quiet boy with peculiar habits to a man of the world and the way he spoke was nothing short of…short of…impressive. Yes sir, impressive.’
‘He must have still retained some of his old habits?’ asked Bhrigu.
‘Not much…but…only one, I think.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Sir, he has his own place; his lair, if you will, at the temple. When he is free, he retires there with an obscure book in his hand. He does not let anyone there, not even me. So that’s one thing which reminds me of his fondness for odd things. It was those papers in his childhood and now it is that…that lair.’
‘Chiranjeev ji.’ Bhrigu said with a smile. ‘I can’t wait to see your performance. I have a feeling that you will surpass even yourself.’
By the look on his face, I knew that he was excited and also that it had nothing to do with the performance or the Ram-Leela.