Neeraja sat on the edge of Vaishnav's bed in the dimly lit hospital room, her eyes fixed on his injured form. Vaishnav's left hand was encased in a plaster cast, and a bandage wrapped around his forehead, stark against his pale skin. Nearby, his two friends, Naveen, Selin, and Shivatmika stood quietly, their faces etched with concern. The sight of Vaishnav's injuries weighed heavily on Neeraja, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes.
"Hey, what happened? Are you crying?" Vaishnav's voice was a soft murmur, laced with worry as he looked at Neeraja.
She couldn't find her voice, and the silence hung thick between them.
"Look, I'm fine. Don't you see..." Vaishnav attempted to reassure her.
"No, don't say that just to make me feel better," Neeraja interrupted, her voice trembling. "What's all this? Didn't they beat you up in front of me..."
Vaishnav tried to smile, but it was a weak effort. "Oh, it doesn't matter. That Pratish was already angry with me. When it came to your case, they took all their anger out on me. Nothing more."
Neeraja shook her head, her tears flowing freely now. "How can you say that so easily? This happened because of me."
"It's nothing to do with you. Didn't I tell you? Even if you hadn't spoken to me, I'd have expected such a beating from them one day. It's just that it happened sooner than I thought."
"How are you now, Vaishnav?" Shivatmika asked, concern lacing her voice.
"It hurts a lot, but I'll be okay," he replied, wincing slightly.
"What did the doctor say?" Naveen inquired.
"The doctor said bed rest for two weeks," one of Vaishnav's friends answered for him. "He said he can be discharged tomorrow or the next day."
"Not reporting to the police?" Celine asked, her voice tense.
"No. After filing a complaint against the minister's son, I can't risk getting beaten up again," Vaishnav said, shaking his head.
"There will be no need for a complaint, Celine. Dada and our gang have gone to see them. Now let's see if there will be a complaint against them," Shivatmika said with a grin.
Both Celine and Neeraja burst into laughter. Vaishnav looked at them, bewildered by their sudden mirth.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, his confusion evident.
"You know Naveen and I are members of the Blue Dragons music band," Shivatmika said, her voice tinged with pride. "The rest of the crew went to the gym to catch a glimpse of Surya and his gang."
Naveen, leaning casually against the wall, added with a smile, "Don't worry, bro. Ajmal Dada and the guys must have given those bullies a taste of their own medicine."
"Wow, did all that happen already?" one of Vaishnava's friends asked, eyes wide in surprise.
"Yes," Shivatmika replied confidently. "The Blue Dragons are always united when one of us is in trouble."
As the words left her mouth, Naveen's attention was caught by the distant wail of sirens. He moved to the open window and peered outside. "Guys, come look!" he called, motioning for the others to join him.
They crowded around the window, watching as two ambulances pulled into the hospital yard. From within, Surya, Salman, Pratish, and Gokul were unloaded on stretchers and rushed inside. "They've taken quite a beating," Naveen observed grimly.
"Haha... our friends are very cool..." someone muttered, a mix of admiration and worry in their voice.
Just then, the roar of a motorbike echoed through the yard as Ajmal and Atul arrived with Manish wedged between them. They dismounted quickly, helping the injured Manish towards the hospital entrance, their faces etched with determination and concern.
"Vaishnav bro, no need to sit here bored," Naveen said, grinning. "Someone's coming in. He's just the guy for a good laugh."
"Don't you know Manish from our gang? Looks like he's taken a bit too much of a beating," Selene added. They laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
When the clock struck six, they all said their goodbyes to Vaishnav and left the hospital, leaving him to rest.
***
Leaving Selene and Neeraja at their house, Ajmal turned his Scorpio back towards Shivatmika's bungalow. Despite leading in age, maturity, and organizational skills, Ajmal knew Shivatmika was the true center of the Blue Dragons Music Band.
Shivatmika was the daughter of Satyanarayana Varma and Asha Devi, owners of the Durga Group of Industries, a company with a presence all over India. The Varma family, the wealthiest in Durgapuri, had named their company after Goddess Durga, reflecting their devotion and legacy.
Approaching her 18th birthday, Shivatmika's beauty was captivating, making hearts skip a beat. She was the most popular singer in the Blue Dragons, her voice as enchanting as her appearance. Nature had endowed her with more than enough beauty, making her the focal point of admiration wherever she went.
A lot of boys in class and college had been pursuing her with love requests, but she had not taken an interest in any of them. Truth be told, she harbored a small secret crush on Ajmal, the Blue Dragons' team leader.
As Ajmal's Scorpio reached Muthimala near her house, Shivatmika asked him to stop.
"I'll walk from here, Dada," she said.
"Why not let me drive you home?" he offered.
"No, it's not even five minutes from here. I'll walk," she insisted.
Ajmal pulled over and stopped the car. Shivatmika stepped out of the Scorpio, her heart pounding slightly. She smiled at Ajmal, who returned the gesture.
"Goodbye, Dada," she said softly.
"Goodbye, Shivatmika," he replied, watching her as she walked away. As he drove off, a mix of admiration and curiosity lingered in his thoughts, while Shivatmika's footsteps echoed with the quiet thrill of their brief exchange.
Shivaatmika stood at the edge of the clearing, her eyes fixed on the imposing figure of Muthimala. It loomed over the landscape like an elephant with a majestic strut. Despite knowing the mountain well—it even marked the date of her birth—every time she gazed upon it, an inexplicable feeling stirred within her. It was as if a part of her soul was inextricably linked to the ancient peak.
Muthimala held a special place in her heart, second only to the revered Shiva Parvati Temple in Durgapuri. She had grown up hearing tales of its enigmatic presence, yet few had ever dared to ascend its slopes. Those who did rarely returned, their lifeless bodies often discovered at the foothills. The post-mortem reports invariably cited snake bites as the cause of death, but the villagers whispered of a curse that haunted the mountain, deterring all but the bravest—or most foolhardy—from attempting the climb.
The dense forest that cloaked Muthimala was a tangled mass of towering trees and thick shrubs. The first prominent landmark from the foothills was a sprawling banyan tree, its ancient branches spreading wide like a guardian of secrets. The tree was encircled by a sturdy fence, with a gate wide enough for a vehicle to pass through. Yet, despite its accessibility, few had ever ventured beyond this point.
Muthimala, with its mysteries and its myths, stood silently, as if waiting for someone to uncover its secrets.
Rumors buzzed among the villagers: deep within the heart of Muthimala, a hidden cave concealed a treasure amulet studded with rare gems. A great snake was said to guard this treasure, its lethal presence the reason behind the mysterious deaths of those who dared to climb the mountain.
Shivaatmika had always dismissed these stories as fanciful legends. Yet, whenever she approached Muthimala, she felt a strange pull, as if the mountain itself called to her.
Today, as she stood at the beginning of the path that wound its way up the mountain, she noticed the small treasure box beside it. Villagers often placed coins in the box, praying with closed eyes before embarking on the treacherous climb. Normally, such rituals didn't interest her, but today was different. She found herself pausing beside the chest, her eyes drifting shut.
"Chandrachuda Sivashankara Parvati
Ramananinage namo namo
Sundarata Pinakadhara Hara
Gangadhara Gaja Katharambaradhara..."
The Shiva kirtan flowed through her, the ancient chant resonating deep within her soul.
"Honey..."
Shivaatmika stood in front of the treasure chest, eyes closed, letting the music flow through her mind, when a voice snapped her back to reality. She turned to see Balachandran standing behind her. She smiled at him.
"Shiva Mol, what are you doing here at this hour?"
"Nothing, Uncle. I went for composing. I had to go to some other place. It's quite late, though."
"Don't stay out here too long. It's dusk. You might run into snakes."
Balachandran was the General Manager of Durga Group of Industries. Though over forty-five, he moved with the energy of a thirty-year-old. He had been with her father in the company for nearly twenty years, a loyal and trusted presence in their lives.
Most days, Balachandran would arrive at Shivaatmika's bungalow after office hours, discussing company matters and other topics with her father. Being single, he usually stayed for dinner before heading home. But tonight, he was here earlier than usual. There must be something urgent, Shivaatmika thought.
Balachandran navigated his car along the winding road, his attention drawn to a solitary figure standing beneath the looming shadow of Muthimala. He slowed, the car's engine purring softly to a halt, and stepped out.
Shivatmika, absorbed in her own thoughts, remained oblivious to the car's arrival and the man now approaching her.
"Uncle, what happened earlier today?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of concern.
Balachandran's face was etched with worry. "My sister called me. She said something happened to my mother. They took her to the hospital. I'm heading there now."
He paused, knowing the trials that come with old age, how it draped its heavy mantle over Balachandran's mother, making hospital visits a frequent, almost ritualistic affair.
"Okay then, uncle, go ahead," Shivatmika responded, her tone soft but firm.
Balachandran offered a sympathetic smile. "Should I drop you home on the way?"
"No, uncle, please don't trouble yourself. I'll walk," Shivatmika declined, her gaze shifting towards the imposing silhouette of the bungalow in the distance.
With a nod, Balachandran returned to his car, the engine starting up with a low rumble. He drove off, heading towards the hospital.
Shivatmika watched the car disappear into the distance before turning her attention back to the bungalow. As she walked toward the gate, she cast one last glance at Muthimala, which loomed over the landscape like a dark, brooding fortress. It seemed to watch over the world with an air of foreboding, much like the legendary castles of the Carpathian Mountains.
A faint smile touched Shivatmika's lips as she opened the gate and entered the tranquil sanctuary of her home, the shadows of the evening slowly enveloping her.
Will continue...