Chapter 10
After shutting the door, Shiv Ranjan Chouhan, alias âShadowâ, walked out of the infirmary and took his place right outside. He let go of the breath he didnât know he was holding. The beautiful, inquisitive doe eyes belonging to the only woman who had stolen his heart had hunted his dreams. And he had to be face to face with her⊠He didnât know it would be so difficult for him, the mighty Shadow known for his self-control.
He didnât know he had a heart until he was fourteen and till little Padma had innocently made her foray into its chambers. He still remembered the day in the mango grove as clear as yesterday.
Born to an absentee father, he had craved his fatherâs attention growing up. His father Abir Kumar Chauhan had migrated to Koini and settled on a piece of land bordering Koini and the province ruled by King WamanRao Raje. He had barely been a baby then. His father had run away from Lucknow to escape the Zamindar system he belonged to. Abir Chauhan considered himself a warrior and wanted to serve the royals. He was well-versed in the use of firearms and a top-notch fighter. He was trained briefly along with Waman Rao Raje and had since sworn loyalty to the would-be King.
Once he settled in Koini, Abir Chauhan soon got a call and joined the security detail of the palace. He prevented a major tragedy involving the little princess a few years later and further caught the eye of the King, who trusted him more than life itself and was soon promoted to serve in the security detail of the Kingâs unit. The following year he was transferred to serve the Queen and was quickly her driver cum personal bodyguard.
While this promotion brought in a lot of fame and money to the Chauhan, Shiv Ranjan missed his father. The man was rarely home and held his money with a tight fist.
His father’s memories were of a bearded man who played with him whenever he came home in his childhood.
Shiv often heard his parents fight whenever his father visited them. Initially, he couldnât figure out the reason for the fights, but later on, he realized it was all about money and a little moreâŠ.
âWhy donât you give me more moneyâŠ?â His mother would ask.
âRati, I am saving it all for our Shiv and his futureâŠâ his father would argue.
âThen, what about my life? Donât I have any needs? Because of your job with the royals, we live in this secluded location. We canât go to the province as you donât want anyone to know about usâŠâ
ââŠthat will put you and Shiv in danger, and I have to do my work as a bodyguard diligently without worrying about you two. Itâs a dangerous world out there, Rati.â His father explained.
âWhy donât I move back to Ghaziabad? With my parents? At least I won’t have to be lonely.â
âRati, you knew this is what I wanted even before we eloped. I had warned you about this life⊠My position in the Royal household is of utmost importance. I am constantly on the move. Only the Queen knows about your existence. If anyone else gets wind of you two⊠your relationship with me, they may use it as leverage against me, which may cost the Royal family their lives. I canât take the risk, nor can I put you both in dangerâŠâ
âThen let loose your purse strings. I want to live a life of luxury. I want to dress well, dress up Shiv, send him to the best schoolâŠâ
âI am saving money for Shiv⊠But, given my line of work, it wonât be long before I have to retire, if not lose my life in the line of duty. What will happen to Shiv, then? So, I am saving up, so he receives a good education and a good and comfortable life.â
His mother would only sulk till his father left again,
His father taught him martial arts and fighting techniques, but the best gift he got from his father was the technique to blend well in his surroundings without anyone knowing about his existence. His father taught him the importance of staying low and observing every detail in his surroundings.
You will be consumed by your light and glow
Provided you self-search and nurture your shadowâŠ
Little Shiv had always wanted to grow up and join the Army, a dream that his mother hated but his father encouraged.
âYou have something unique about you, Shiv; you are born to achieve greater heights. You are Lord Mahadevâs blessing to us all.â His father would always say.
His mother loved him in her own way. She didnât talk much, just went about the daily chores at home while he attended the local Gram Panchayat school. The school was in name only and attended by only those who couldnât afford schooling. She didnât cook much, but whatever she did, he would wait for her to pamper him and coax him to eat. He loved Diwali for the brightness and because his mother would often dress well and dress him up in his favourite blue Kurta; his papa had got him once.
He remembered a particular Diwali where she had got him sparklers, which was the first and the last Diwali he had celebrated with his mother. For years after that, he had longed to celebrate the festival but didnât bother to ask his parents about it. Instead, he joined his school friends in lighting oil lamps and an occasional firework donated by some or the other political bigwigâŠ
The mid-day meal scheme offered by the government was a significant attraction to those who attended the small school. Though his mother prepared something every day, Shiv loved to eat in school and in the company of his friends. Moreover, most children were sons of local labourers or farmers, primarily daily wagers. So no one bothered about why such a well-built kid attended a school with a building with a roof that leaked torrentially along with the rain every monsoon.
His dark skin tone and simple clothes didnât make him stand apart eventually, and he was glad because his father would approve of it.
One day, when he was around twelve, he came home early from school in the afternoon since he was down with a fever, a rare occurrence. The entrance to his house was open, and he was surprised. His mother usually had her nap in the afternoon. His house wasnât very big or attractive as per his fatherâs wishes, so it didnât call for attention n. It was on a tiny hill away from the nearest village, and the land was barren.
His father had somehow managed to get them a constant water supply through his contacts and influence in the palace via the government scheme. They initially had a small mango grove, but Shiv had taken over the care of the place, and the grove had grown. He often got his school friends who werenât working in the fields, and they worked on the grove. Some trees had yielded fruit recently, and he had distributed most of the fruit to his friends.
That afternoon he walked into a silent home. Where was his mother? He was burning with fever, and his head pounded. The only place that gave him solace was the mango grove. He walked in there, hoping to lie in the shade when he heard some chuckles and giggles.
Keeping up with his training in stealth, he walked without a sound to a clearing in the middle of the grove and was shocked to the core. His mother lay on a thatched mat with another man. Her saree was strewn at the side while she held the manâs face, constantly kissing him. With his paunch hanging out of his briefs, the man hugged her too, digging his head into her shoulder.
Shiv lost focus given his health, and at the sound of the twig cracking, the couple moved apart. His mother was wide-eyed, and she rushed to cover herself with the discarded saree. The man sat up too and pulled his clothes together.
His mother rushed to him and held his shoulders.
âWhat are you doing here, Shiv?â She asked, still panting.
Shiv was a child, but he knew whatever was happening wasnât right. He didnât say a word.
The man stood up and rubbed his huge belly. As he dressed, his handlebar moustache struck Shiv along with the red tilak on his sweaty forehead. Who was this man? He looked familiar.
âShivâŠâ his mother spoke. â⊠touch Sahebâs feet and take his blessings.â She indicated to the large man while still adjusting the saree she had worn hurriedly.
Shiv stood still, glaring at the man, anger rising in his little body.
âRati, your son is very stubborn. It would help if you taught him some manners.â He dusted his clothes and walked out of the grove.
His mother dragged him out of the grove to their house and pushed him to the bed. Then, placing her hands on her hips, she stared at him, fire blazing in her eyes.
âDo you know who that man was?â She asked, clenching her teeth.
âNo maa⊠But he wasnât papa.â Shiv back answered for the first time. The slap across his face caused him to fall back on the bed with a thud.
âHow dare you say that, Shiv? You know nothing about all this. I have given up so much for you and your father; you will never understand. You are just like your father. If you ever say a word about this to your father, I shall leave you forever.â His mother threatened him.
That was Shivâs greatest fear. While all his friends feared drought, hunger, and poverty, he feared loneliness. He couldnât lose his mother⊠So, he would keep his silence. He went to bed hungry that night, and miraculously, his fever had broken.
He was a changed boy from that day on and decided not to rely on his mother anymore.
Shiv often returned home to find the same man leaving the house. At times the man patted his head or pretended Shiv didnât exist. While, his mother wore beautiful sarees and got new clothes for him too, something about that man, didnât feel right.
Two years passed, and Shiv now knew what happened in the grove that day and now blatantly in his house. However, he didnât hold it against his mother since she was happy, which meant she wouldnât need him around or keep tabs on him, not that she did anyway. He was glad to be left alone.
It was a summer when he had just turned fourteen, and the school grounds were abuzz with something they all called an election rally. He was one of the volunteers. He had lost weight and had become skinny and lean. He stayed away from home as much as possible, helping around the fields with his friends. The hard labour made him strong, and he kept up with his martial arts practice from whatever his father had taught him.
Just a year more, and he could escape this place. His father had arranged everything for him. At times he wondered if his father knew about his motherâs indiscretions. But his father too rarely came home. Shiv counted three times in the last two years.
Instead, his father called him occasionally at school or whenever he volunteered at the post office.
That evening the dignitaries sat on the dais, and the Sarpanch announced.
âWe welcome the young and dynamic leader of the Kalyankar party, the son of this soil, and future MLA, Shri Rajendrabhau Majumdar. Everyone, please give him a round of applauseâŠâ
Shiv pried away from his eyes from the swelling crowd and looked upon the dais. His heart skipped a beat.. The man being honored was the one who frequented his home⊠the one who had an affair with his mother.
©priyagole

