He was not upset, neither embarrassed. He was not anything. He met her like a stranger. Rajjo wanted to push him down from the ghat, so he could drown in the belly of the Ganga and learn some humility on his way back up!

‘Sorry to have wasted your time…’ She turned away from him before she could physically push him away.

For the first time in years she wondered what she wore. She hoped the saffron mark on her forehead was not smudged. Little did she know that her lithe form clad in the muslin white sari made her seem like an ethereal being.

‘I think we shall stay back and persuade you…’ she heard him say in a husky tone.

Rajjo turned to look at him, as he stepped forward, closer to where she stood. She could feel the heat trickle through the soft muslin cloth she wore. He was challenging her. He knew all along what she was doing. He was playing with her. Rajjo turned away from him, staring at the ghats.

‘A lot has changed since we last met.’ His thick voice hung in the air as Rajjo digested what was said. Their silence was interrupted as the temple bells rang in a chorus, giving Rajjo the respite she wanted.

‘They say the fire at the Manikarnika ghat, the pyres have never stopped burning.’ Her statement hung between them, challenging him.

‘And they say it is not going to stop in the future either.’ He stated in a baritone, with an intensity that matched hers. His voice took her in the past as they sat by the river and he touched her lightly for the first time. She shivered once more.

Meeting him was not a good idea. She was a girl smitten by a stranger then, but now she was a Godwoman with millions of people following her, millions of destinies commanded by her empire and a mass that followed the gesture of her hand.

‘The continuous burning of pyre is proof enough that creation and destruction is a continuous process.’ Rajjo clutched her sari against the ruthless wind and stepped down, turning her back to the visitors. She was ready to leave.

‘Thank you for your time,’ Prem Nath muttered to Rajjo’s departing back.

As she walked away with a purposeful stride, her hip swaying in arrogance and beauty, she heard his voice follow her. ‘We are still hopeful, Rajjo-ji.’

She continued to walk towards the ghats with that swagger. Rajjo had a sudden urge to descend hundreds of stairs and sit by the river, her feet dangling in the water. Almost suspended. She felt light-headed. Perhaps it was the heat.

It was a good thing she refused their proposal for she knew one thing from the way she reacted to Harsh. She had to keep away from him.