"We have to move quickly," the figure said urgently. "I've arranged for Professor Stalin to be dropped off at a nearby hospital. He'll be safe there, for now." The man said as he quickly made a phone call, and promptly, a taxi arrived and picked up Stalin.
"Shouldn't I go with him?"
"No, we've got something more pressing to attend to." The man said, his voice stern.
Ash and the mysterious man made their way out of there, and into an alleyway with only one open shop in it.
"I'm Ashwatthama??" He asked the shadowy figure.
"Please let's sit down there, and I will explain all the things that are happening right now, Ashwatthama." He was walking, and as he was about to go forward towards the dimly lit shop, Ash placed a hand on his shoulder.
"It's not Ashwatthama, please call me Ashwin or Ash." His voice was lower, and had an aggressive undertone to it.
The man saw Ash in a glass pane that hung from a shop on his side, his eyes glaring with an intensity never seen before.
"Tell me now." Ash sounded like he was ready to kill, and the mysterious person could feel it through his every word and movement.
"Well, like I said, try remembering Ash. Your life. How old are you?"
"I think I'm 24, why?" Ash responded, confused.
The man grew frustrated, and he turned around. "One second." He reached into his backpack , and pulled out a photograph.
"If you're 24, then why the fuck are you in this photo in the 1930s in Madras?"
Ash was speechless, as he saw a figure in the photo that was unmistakably him. He was donning a cloak, and had a very stern look on his face.
The photo was titled "Ashwatthama, 1938, Thiruvallikeni, Chennai."
Ash could not say a single word. "T-this is ridiculous."
"It is not!" the other man replied with anger and frustration seething in his voice.
He grabbed Ashwatthama by his shoulders and shook him. "Look at me, you're Ashwatthama. The Ashwatthama. A legendary warrior, goddammit. How can I make you remember?"
Ash shook himself out of the man's grip, and asked him a question "Who the hell are you by the way? And how can you know for sure I'm this man who is in this photo in the 1930s? It can be one hell of a coincidence right??"
"I understand your skepticism," Rishi said with a patient tone, his eyes locked onto Ash's as they continued their conversation. "But I unfortunately don't have enough time on my hands to explain all of this to you. First things first, we need to ensure the professor is alive, then we can talk. The name is Rishi, by the way."
Ash nodded, his curiosity piqued but his focus on the task at hand. "You're right, Rishi. Let's get that sorted first. And why do you think these mysterious things are trying to kill the professor right now?"
Rishi's brows furrowed in concern as he glanced around the alleyway. "I don't know for sure, but if I'm being honest, I think it's the work of the Dharmakaryan Society."
"Dharmakaryan Society?" Ash inquired, his curiosity deepening at the mention of this enigmatic group.
Rishi leaned in slightly, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "The Dharmakaryan Society is actually a political party that is vying for power in the state of Tamil Nadu. However, not a lot of people know this, but they have a second face. One they don't want to show the world. Even I recently stumbled upon this society, and it seems like they've been after you for a long time now."
"For what reason?" Ash's tone carried a mix of confusion and concern.
"My guess is as good as yours. I certainly believe it has something to do with your immortality." Rishi replied, taking a moment to quench his thirst with a jug of water sitting nearby.
Ash raised an eyebrow. "Why do you keep saying I'm immortal? I have an identity called Ashwin, and I've been living in Professor Stalin's house for as long as I can remember."
Rishi's expression remained serious as he leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Ash's. "Do you know for certain? Try thinking hard. Real hard."
Ash closed his eyes, attempting to delve back into his past, but however hard he tried, he could not remember anything of significance. Frustration flickered across his features as he opened his eyes and met Rishi's gaze once more.
"I think Professor Stalin was hiding you and protecting you from these people without you knowing, or he may have not known himself," Rishi continued. "The reason you keep losing your memory is that... how can I explain this in simple terms?"
Ash leaned in, his curiosity fully engaged. "Go on."
"Well, this is my theory, but I think that after a certain point in time, your brain doesn't have enough capacity to store and process all the memories it has, like a computer running out of storage," Rishi explained, gesturing with his hands to emphasize his point. "So what does it do? It does a factory reset. A blank canvas, if you will. And that is what I believe happened to you."
Both of them made their way out of the tea shop
As Rishi finished his explanation, a distant sound caught their attention – the faint echo of hurried footsteps approaching their location. The alleyway seemed to grow darker, the shadows closing in around them as if the very air held a sense of urgency.
Ash's instincts kicked in, and he glanced at Rishi. "We've got company. And I don't think they're here to chat."
Rishi's eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting toward the alley's entrance. "We need to move. Now."
As if in response to their words, the air itself seemed to ripple with an otherworldly energy, and the alleyway's atmosphere turned electric with tension. The open shop at the end of the alley stood as a lone beacon of safety, promising a momentary respite from the impending danger.
In a synchronized movement, Ash and Rishi sprang into action, their every step calculated and swift. They reached the shop's entrance just as the first dark figures appeared at the other end of the alley, their presence casting an eerie and ominous aura.
The shop's interior was dimly lit, the soft glow of lanterns revealing a cluttered space filled with tea-related paraphernalia. A sense of urgency permeated the air as Ash and Rishi exchanged a determined glance, their minds aligned on a common goal – survival.