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Harsh nodded. Samarth lowered his voice — “I don’t ever remember demanding things like this from my mother… do you remember?”

He shook his head.

“At this age! Am I going crazy or what?”

Nobody gave you the leeway to become like this.

“There was Dadi Sarkar, there was Hira ben,” he pointed.

They were old, and you always thought about them before yourself.

“Am I not thinking about her before myself?” Samarth introspected softly.

Not lately.

A shiver ran up his spine and across his shoulders.

“Rawal?”

He turned.

“Rajmata is expecting you in Kamal Mahal. Giriraj Hukum has graced Nawanagar.”

Samarth’s eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t surprised by Hukum’s surprise visit.

Hukum was known to drop in unannounced, and not even in the protocol due to a king of his stature.

His car would quietly glide up to the palace gates, sometimes even without his security detail.

The guards would have to verify it is him and he would enjoy joking around with them.

Samarth walked to Kamal Mahal, resplendent with its black and white flooring that bloomed in the shape of geometric lotus petals.

“This is a first!” Hukum announced from the baithak, one ankle crossed over his knee, his canary yellow polo moulded so well to his arms that his biceps were bulging. “You come to visit the sick and the sick is holding court.”

“I might be sick but you seem to be in the pink of health, Hukum,” Samarth folded his hands and bent to touch his feet. He thumped his arm — “I was told by my doctor to start weight training. Helps with aging better. Start Siddharth early, Tara.”

“I cannot mention the words old and Sid in one sentence anymore,” Rajmata remarked.

“It’s kind of a touchy topic now,” Samarth finished for her as her eyes stayed on him to check if he was falling over. He sat down on one of the armchairs to avoid that mishap.

“Giri, why don’t you ever come to my kingdom like Hukum?!” Papa’s voice preceded him. He came in with his iPad and files, a rare sight ever since he had passed on the majority of his workload.

“That’s boring. Come, sit. Tara has something to say to you.”

“What?” Papa glanced at her, his hand coming to Samarth’s nape discreetly as he passed him to check his temperature before taking a seat next to her. Samarth noted their silent conversation.

Is it cool?

It is.

“Something about aging well if you start weight training early…” Rajmata deadpanned. “I didn’t say it, Hukum has started weight training.”

“Really? Doesn’t look like it.”

“Touchy, indeed,” Hukum nodded.

“What touchy?”

“Sid, I have decided something,” Rajmata intervened.

“And what’s that?”

“Samarth is going on a vacation.”

Samarth gaped at her, then at his father — “That’s a decision now?”

“It is,” Rajmata declared. “When was your last vacation?”

“February.”

“That was a trip for your match. Before that?”

Samarth thought. He came up with three places he had travelled to last year but they were all trips to play. He didn’t play as often now. He had transitioned into a more of a managerial role for the Gir Zephyrs.

“Your immunity is compromised,” she spelled out.

“It’s due to lots of factors, but the major factor is this overworking.

Papa used to de-stress every day with his cricket, take off for his research trips.

You have been at it continuously for the last 4 years.

You are hence taking a vacation the moment you recover completely. ”

“Alone?”

“You want the family to come along?”

“Harsh is fine,” he joked. “And where am I going, since you have it all planned.”

“Loire Valley.”

Samarth had thrown that out as a joke. She was serious? He sat up.

“Rajmata, I was joking. It’s going to be Diwali in a month. Dussehra is coming…”

“Papa can handle everything here. And you will come back before Diwali. There , that’s your incentive to recover quickly now. Go on a vacation. No thoughts of the kingdom, or court or the problems of Nawanagar. It’s a beautiful place, very close to Paris. You will enjoy the quiet.”

“You have been to Loire?” He looked between his parents. Papa shook his head.

“Hukum just returned from there. He has great things to say about it.”

Hukum nodded — “It’s a peace paradise. What a place to recuperate! It’s autumn, the air is cool but not cold. And I have a bunch of hotel and sightseeing recommendations for a solo trip. I went alone.”

“I don’t think I am up for a vacation currently. I’ll take it after Diwali.”

“Look what you have done!” Rajmata accused Papa. “You promised him that you would shoulder the load, let him travel for his polo…”

“But I did shoulder it. He stopped traveling for polo regularly!” Papa defended. “Samarth. Please.”

“He is right, Rajmata. I like working here.”

“And that’s catching up with your health.

A boy as healthy and fit as you couldn’t stand straight in dengue.

Sharan was out in his garden by Day 2. No.

We are getting you started on iron and vitamins as soon as you are done with your treatment course and you ARE going on a vacation.

If not Loire then somewhere else. Wherever you want.

Somewhere not adventurous or sporty. Relaxing.

If you don’t want to go alone then take your friends. We can also tag along…”

“Ok, Tara, he is not a baby,” Hukum laughed. “But Samarth, she is right. If not Loire then pick your place. Though Loire has some really good vineyards and this mountain polo resort. It’s your kind of holiday destination.”

Samarth glanced at his father.

“Go, beta. Take a break. Rajmata is right. You have been working nonstop for years. This break will be good for you.”

“Baker Hughes Drilling is coming for a sit-down at the end of this month…”

“I’ll chair it. Send me everything and ask Vishwajeet to brief me.”

Samarth pursed his lips. Then glanced at Rajmata. She gave him a look. A look that was coddling and commanding all at the same time. He shut his eyes.

“Let me see.”

————————————————————

His throat burned and he coughed out. That went out of control. Samarth sat up, gasping, his chest feeling like it was made of paper and not bones. His hand reached for water but Rajmata was already by his side, holding his shoulder and pushing the glass to his mouth.

“That is why I am still sleeping on your couch,” she reminded him tartly after the rant he had sung last night to get her back to Papa. Even in this coughing feat he laughed.

“I can drink water on my own,” he fought back, suddenly enjoying the banter.

This was new, and she matched him word for word.

This time she only held his wrist up. His hand was shaking.

Samarth finished half a glass and pushed back, leaning on the headrest and looking at Rajmata.

Even in the dark he could make out her features.

He didn’t remember what his own mother had looked like once.

He knew what she looked like now. But he had no memory of how she had looked when he was a child.

Only how her saree had been. Stiff and tight always, in place, her hair poker straight and some perfume trailing behind her wherever she went.

“Were you having a nightmare again?” Rajmata asked.

“No. Why?”

“You look scared.”

“I don’t get scared of nightmares,” he smirked. Her mouth quirked up — “If you say so.”

Samarth swallowed the bitter memory of that nightmare. Delirium. Hallucination. Whatever that was.

“Samarth?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you against going on a vacation because you think who will take care of things here or you genuinely don’t want to go?”

He thought for a moment, his eyes going to the dark window, then to the ceiling where the swimming pool’s reflection danced.

“I wouldn’t know what to do on a vacation.”

“You used to travel all the time.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “That was a lifetime ago.”

“Are you happy, Samarth?”

He looked at her — “Why do you ask suddenly?”

“I don’t know if you remember this. When Papa came back and announced that you would continue to be Rawal, you looked unhappy for a while. I asked you then as well. But I wasn’t in a position to pester that answer out of you.”

He smiled. Today she was.

“Why did you pull out of the Indian team?”

He shrugged — “It was time. I had played my share.”

“And your duties here kept multiplying.”

“No, no. You know Papa was always there to take it off if it got too overwhelming. Rajmata, my duties here had nothing to do with me cutting down on polo. I just wasn’t too sold on jet-setting around anymore. That was twenties, this is thirties. Priorities change.”

“Hmm. I get it. But you don’t play for Gir Zephyrs very often either.”

“That’s because I am expanding it. The women’s team has been settled. Now I want to create a mixed team.”

“Mixed as in men and women in one team? Can they compete together?”

“Not in other sports. But in polo, they can. Horses don’t bow to muscle or gender. They bow to leadership. We are sorting through some rules and once that is done…”

“Samarth?”

“Hmm?”

“You are a player first, manager later.”

He swallowed.

“This year it’s been slow but it’ll pick up again,” he went on without a hitch. “I am overseeing their growth for now. I’ll start playing again soon.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. Like he had her mapped out in the dark after all these nights of sickness, he figured she had him mapped out inside out by now.

“What happened with the princess of Orissa?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Then who was in the stall?”

His breath caught in his throat. When he didn’t answer, she hesitated. He thought she would change the topic.

“Was it your mother?”

“No,” Samarth shook his head, trying to find a laugh. She was there but her leaving the stall or being inside did not mean anything. She went, but did not take her along.

“Samarth…”

“I didn’t want you to go inside the stall,” he confessed to keep her off that question.

Rajmata smiled — “I know. You yelled it. A time or two.”

“Sorry.”

She shook her head, her eyes filled with sleep but still looking at him like she would stay awake and help him spend the night without getting caught up in his cough or his thoughts.

“When you came to my house and took that oath, then when I married and came to Nawanagar, a lot happened in a short while. There were moments when I couldn’t get out of my own head and then there were moments when I couldn’t look you in the eyes.

We swept it under the rug and moved on, kept moving.

And in the process, I could not become to you what probably… I had wanted to.”

In the dead of the night and the haze of illness and sleep, Samarth asked the question — “What was that?”

“Somebody you had complete right over.”

Mother.

“Then Sharan came, and life sped. We froze there.”

“I never expected that from you, Rajmata. Or anything. If you think I am disappointed…”

“You are the kind of boy who would not be disappointed in the executioner who asked you for your head. But you must expect, you must accept, you must get disappointed and fight to get what you want.”

“I have everything.”

“No, you give everything.”

“Sleep is catching up with you now,” he chuckled, hoping to bury this topic.

“Look here,” she turned even more serious. “What you once wished for Papa is what Papa now wishes for you. Is there nobody you want to think about for yourself? No girlfriend? No princess? No pretty polo player in your circle? There must be somebody you must have wanted at some point in life?”

Samarth smiled — “Sharan’s favourite topic and Sharan isn’t there.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “Go to this holiday. One step at a time.”

“What? This is a bootcamp in steps for marriage?”

“This is a bootcamp in steps to return the smirking, polo-playing Samarth to the palace.”

“I still smirk up a storm,” he smirked.

“It’s a grimace.”

“Really?” He began to playfully pull up his camera app to check but she grabbed the phone from his hand.

“Go to sleep now. Has your cough settled?”

“Long back.”

“Then lie down.”

She pushed up to her feet and stood on his head until he had laid down, pulled his duvet over his chest and closed his eyes.

She returned his phone to his bedside and went back to the couch.

Samarth peeked from the corner of his eyes and waited until her breathing went shallow.

When he was sure her eyes were closed, his hand reached out for his phone.

“Samarth,” her warning startled him.

“Just setting my alarm…”

“Just sleep.”

“Yes, yes.”

Like a teenager he lowered his phone’s brightness, popped in his AirPods and hit play on his morning playlist. The first song came on. It wasn’t a Krishna bhajan anymore. That was the second song on his playlist. His eyes fell closed.

Nayan ne bandh raakhi ne mein jyare tamne joya chhe, tame chho ena karta pan vadhare tamne joya chhe… [84]