‘What is it?’

‘The churna. I ground a few roots and added a bit of the ever-potent Sarpagandha—the red flower outside the hut? Sparsely is it found. Better than anything routinely available in the plains.’

Aman remembered the last time he had met Chitra. It was during his Adwaita when Lord Indra had refused to meet his eyes in the dream. ‘What was that . . . what you said to Aranyani right when she was about to leave?’

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. ‘Umm . . . I only suggested that she get you stung by a lal bicchu.’

‘What? Why would you suggest that?’

‘To help you!’ Chitra said. ‘While the Matriarch was right—you had seen too much—it could all have been avoided. She could have, or I could also have, found a lal bicchu, a red scorpion, in Aranyala when you first entered the valley—I think there are a few nests by the western springs. Its venom detaches your soul from your memory. Stops you from registering much with the exception of being able to perform practised routines and daily tasks, even answering rudimentary questions . . . My only fault then was to suggest this much after your Adwaita was over. You see, the lal bicchu doesn’t erase the past. It only numbs your memory after the sting for around one day. Had it been done when you first entered the valley, it could have potentially allowed you to resume life in the plains.’

‘So I would return and remember nothing of the valley?’

‘Precisely,’ she said.

‘Do the villagers use the lal bicchu often?’

Chitra seemed offended. ‘What Sanaka, Aranyani, and the Sabha and Samiti do is beyond me. I’ve only heard of a few exceptional cases of its use on villagers about to witness the cremation of a loved one, to alleviate their pain by removing any recollection of it.’

Aman decided not to press her. He opened the palm-leaf churna packet to see six smaller ones inside.

‘Twice a day with water.’

Aman walked into Maidaan around noon. Acharya Ashwini sat on the podium under the Kalpavriksha, facing his students. Idhika and Dhara were at the front, and Ujal was nodding off. Aman grabbed a kamandalu of water for Fayza, who pressed her fingers to her temples, and sat down beside her.

Jagrav, whose beard now covered his face, said to her, ‘Your headache, Fayza. It’s because you’re still wearing your glasses. Chitra told me that the Kalpavriksha heals our eyesight.’

Fayza couldn’t believe she hadn’t known this and that it was Jagrav who told her. ‘Oh, I knew that,’ she said, her face burning with embarrassment.

Aarti looked gobsmacked when she saw Prithvi saunter into Gurukul, arranging the arrows in her new quiver. ‘How?!’ Aarti jumped up. ‘You’re alive! I was so worried for you.’ Payal nodded, putting on a sympathetic look.

Aarti went over to Prithvi and made a greater show of relief—on the way, she stepped on Fayza’s hand, whether by accident or design, it wasn’t clear.