Needy kith and kin who had given him the wide berth before now suddenly found his whereabouts and closed in.  Smarmy and wheedling they soon ingratiated themselves to him.  Success can and does go to one’s head and he too was not immune.  Drunk with success and shamelessly pandered to by his many hangers on, Sanjay became insufferable. He still helped people but made them grovel besides humiliating them in front of his coterie.   Aid seekers were grateful to him for his timely help but in their heart of hearts they started resenting him.  Sanjay’s one saving grace was that he never forgot his bad times and often helped many needy folks secretively, no one being the wiser.  Only his personal chauffer knew this side of his persona.  He had sworn him to secrecy.

Trying to keep up with the in crowd of society had slowly weaned the creative side of his personality.  He had been a fine poet in his time.  He no longer penned ghazals and verses.  His refinement had been overtaken by shallow superficiality.  He was oblivious to the price eked by success from him.

Sanjay’s old mother saw what had happened to her elder son.  She was treated like a well preserved cared for antique and nothing more than that these days.   Sanjay no longer visited his mother in the evenings like before.  She missed him dreadfully and grieved… The old lady prayed to the lord to knock some sense into her generous albeit misguided son.  But it was too late.

Cycle of destiny took a full turn.  Long period of drought took its toll and Sanjay “the wishing tree” soon suffered huge financial losses.  The multi business branches were chopped for financial reasons.  The Wishing Tree became a mere shadow of its former glorious self.  The hangers on vanished like hair from an age ravaged bald head.  Sanjay was now left with only his own small family, faithful jack of all chauffer and mother.

This change in fortune strangely enough did not perturb him. In reality Sanjay felt at peace.  He had more than enough for his family’s needs.  The old lady smiled contentedly knowing that her “wishing tree” son would flower again but with prudence this time round.

Notes:  No personality can be termed black or white. Everyone has saving graces/ redeeming qualities along with in between shades. That is my contention.

In Hindu mythology, Sanjeevani is a magical herb which has the power to cure any malady. It was believed that medicines prepared from this herb could revive a dead person –source-wiki

Ghazals: is a poetic form consisting of rhyming couplets and a refrain, with each line sharing the same meter. A ghazal may be understood as a poetic expression of both the pain of loss or separation and the beauty of love in spite of that pain. The form is ancient, originating in 6th century Arabic verse. It is derived from the Arabian panegyric qasida. The structural requirements of the ghazal are similar in stringency to those of the Petrarchan sonnet. In its style and content it is a genre which has proved capable of an extraordinary variety of expression around its central themes of love and separation. It is one of the principal poetic forms which the Indo-Perso-Arabic civilization offered to the eastern Islamic world.- source -wiki

these babies have had free ride for long.  time to set them free.  she researched , planned to nth degree.  zeroed in on best of best finally.  D-day had arrived.  her only stipulation was to be an eye witness before signing on dot.  Agreement was arrived at.  Plastic surgeon skilfully reduced bust to relieve her back.

Murder

Bent on vengeance, Sheila thought “murder”.  Finally she got the expected tweet.  Her best friend Judas Judy would be arriving any minute.  She had made her the laughing stock among their friends.   With her toy gun cocked, she bided time.   This would surely scare living daylights out of nervous Nellie JJ.  Sheila savored the thought.

Accident

Overturned car teetered at cliff’s edge.   Occupants, mother and toddler lay nearby.  Help was on way.   Weepy boy appeared to be consoled by his mother.  Crowd parted as blaring ambulances neared.  EMTs  checked  injured.  They shook their heads sadly as the mother had died on the spot but miraculously the child had escaped unhurt.

Amnesia

Falling on head on icy driveway had caused Sam’s amnesia.   Doctors assured Mona his memory would return.   It was critical he recover fast.  Company they’d built by hard work lay at brink of disaster.   Their stock had fallen steadily in the market, investors were  nervous.   Only Sam knew safe’s combination containing those valuable bonds.

Hysteria

Their only daughter Tiffany was getting married today.  It was four hours since she had gone to the beauty parlor and not returned.  Marge, Tiffany’s mother felt a steady rise of hysteria.  How would the senator and she face their VIP guest?  Horrible thoughts like kidnapping or  that Tiffany had runaway in panic, plagued her.

**

Ram loved old things and recalled his grandparent’s grand old mansion which now belonged to his cousins.  He too wanted to build a similar house in its full glory and it would be a perfect property for film shoots as well.  After all he was a businessman.  Before the structure was pulled down, he had salvaged all usable mantles, doors, windows, fixtures et al.  Now they were preparing to lay down the foundation.  It was then that his laborers found two urns full of ashes.  They were covered with red cloths covered in ancient script.  The work was halted as the urns were carefully lifted and placed in a secure spot.  Ram decided to investigate regarding them.

**

Three houses down lived an old priest called Shastriji.  The priest’s ancestors had looked after the needs of the whole neighborhood since times immemorial.  Be it birth, death, marriage or special prayers, they were much in demand.  Recorded journals with names of all the family members of every family with detailed history were in his possession.  Ram hit pay dirt when one of the local workers told him to approach the priest.

**

Ram:   “Greetings Shastriji.  I’ve bought that old house three doors down your lane and seek your help”.   The priest sat up straight as these days clients were a rare sight.

Shastriji exclaimed, “Oh! So you are the one that bought that house.  I know the history of it well.  No need to refer to my detailed journals. This will take up a while so I hope you have time to spare.  Let’s share a cup of tea first.

That house belonged to Surya Pratap the younger son of Raja Ratan Singh of this state.  He was an ascetic and a devout Hindu who preferred all things Indian.  He had no love for the East Indian Company and the British upstarts.  He was married off to the beautiful second daughter of the royal family of the neighboring State.  Sita was so beautiful that Surya Pratap succumbed to her charms in no time.  With love and patience she smoothed out the sharp edges of his personality.  Surya became mellow and less obdurate in nature.

They had four children.  Three sons and one daughter   Eldest son and daughter was educated in England at the urging of his wife Sita who herself had schooled there and the other two received their education in local schools and colleges.  Their daughter Chandni was incredibly lovely and the family’s lucky charm.  Ever since she had been born, many good things had occurred in their lives.   Whole family doted on Chandni and she too had a lovable nature.  Chandni had long curly dark hair, big almond shaped light blue eyes and perfect features like her mother Sita.  She was a great archer and equestrienne too.  She met and won many a challenge her three brothers posed.  She was their match in every which way and more.

Chandni finished her education in London and returned home to settle down and eventually get married.  Many alliances arrived from far corners of the country for her hand.  She turned them all down.  She wanted to spend more time with her loved ones.

Then, something unexpected happened.  A young British officer Peter Pruitt had been sent to the nearby Company Residency as a second in command.    He was very handsome and loved all things Indian.  He was kind hearted too unlike his haughty supercilious colleagues.

Chandni’s best friend Tara had given a birthday party and Chandni was looking forward to catching up on the local gossip.  She dressed herself in simple clothes and even then she was the cynosure of all eyes.  Peter Pruitt and his fellow officers had been invited by Tara’s parents as they undertook contract work from the Company on various projects.  They managed the local workmen well and hence rarely was there any friction or untoward incidence.

At the very first glance Peter and Chandni fell headlong in love much to the consternation of everyone present.  Chandni knew her family would never accept Peter but she had lost control over her wayward heart.  Peter’s state was equally bad.  His friends too advised him against it as Chandni’s father’s reputation as a stern Hindu was well known.  He was inflexible on many fronts.  Soon the affair became known to Chandni’s parents and even as the lovers were eloping with the help of her faithful nanny, all the three brothers caught up with the fleeing lovers and in a heated moment, the hot headed eldest brother shot the couple.  All present became stunned and he the most.  He was shocked at what he had done and in reflex action shot self too.  The remaining two brothers quickly carried the three bodies home.  Peter and Chandni’s bodies were secretly taken to an underground cave to be dealt with there.  All the servants were sworn to secrecy for fear of repercussions at the hands of the cruel firangi (foreigners).  It was decided that since Chandni had disobeyed the family, she and Peter would be secretly cremated and the ashes would be kept in urns and buried deep in a chosen spot by the family priest.  The urns were then duly sealed by red square materials that had a fine print of tantric mantras all over.  As a punishment, the ashes were not released in the holy Ganges.  The lovers were left to languish in anguish till eternity.

The son was given a royal sendoff with all the rituals.  And that was the beginning of the end of this family.  Their luck ran out with the departure of their lucky charm Chandni and they fell on hard times.  Soon everything dwindled- lives, money and the hangers-on leeches.  All the fine carpets and fixtures- everything was sold off one by one and finally only the bare bones of this lovely house remained.   Hence, this property was sold for a song.  People swear that they have seen the lovers’ ghosts on the roof in the evenings.”

Shastriji became silent after that and builder Ram’s mind began racing.  He rubbed his hands in secret glee. He was not perturbed at all.   This house was going to be used by movie makers and the ghostly touch would be an added allure.  But first he vowed to give the lovers a decent sendoff with full fledged rituals and fanfare.

The renovated house’s inauguration and the Lovers’ send off simultaneously would be great publicity.  Ram silently chortled to himself.  Thanking Shastriji profusely, he hurried off sporting a huge smile on his chubby gum chewing face.

Last week the funeral had been conducted as befitting a much loved father and husband by the grief stricken wife Sheila and twin offspring Yogi and Yamuna, both doctors. The deceased was one of Jaipur’s top industrialists. His name was Yograj Sisodia.

Dr. Yamuna was short and stocky like her dad with gorgeous flowing hair and limpid clear eyes that mesmerized. Her other attractive feature was a tinkling laughter which reminded of soft musical notes. Other than that, she was ordinary in looks department but was a gifted general surgeon.

Dr. Yogi her fraternal twin was classically tall, fair and handsome. He had taken after their mom Sheila who was a known beauty in her heyday. Handsome doctors attract more nurses than their counterparts and Yogi was no exception. A graveyard of broken hearts could be chalked up to his name. He was an incorrigible flirt. His sis warned that one day he was going to fall flat for someone who would not give him the time of day. He merely snorted. The siblings however loved each other very much. Yogi was an interventional cardiologist.

The family was quite well off and hence inheritance was the last thing on their minds. It was more curiosity to know what their beloved (dad/partner) had had to hide from his family.  The attorney came over with the key to the safe and they gathered in their father’s study room. It was his private den and only place that was taboo to all, without exception. Their dad even cleaned the place himself.  Various properties had already been distributed per deceased’s last will and testament. The only item left was the safe.

Sheila said “I wonder what Yograj hid from us all these years? Yogi, Yamuna, do you guys have any inkling?” Both shook their heads equally mystified.  Impatience and curiosity were palpable. Per instructions of the deceased, the attorney opened safe and left them alone. His work done, he quietly saw himself out of the mansion.

With rising excitement Sheila opened the safe door. In it covered by an antique red velvet table cloth, edged by an exquisite gold filigree lace was an antique Chinese box with carved dragons. It was one those trick puzzle boxes and they had a tough time finding the secret drawer as it definitely contained something which rattled when gently shaken.

Yamuna said, “Ma please hand it to me. Let me try“. Skilful surgeon hands gently tapped the mouths of each carved dragon. Finally the left side gave a clicking sound and a drawer sprang open.

Wrapped in a scented embroidered kerchief with royal insignia was a huge blue topaz the size of a small egg. It had to be priceless. Their collective mouths fell open. There was a sepia tinted old newspaper cutting under the stone. It spoke of a daring theft of the legendary Topaz from the royalpalaceofJaipur.

This stone was, per the legend stolen from an ancient temple and whosoever possessed it- misfortune would befall his immediate family. The temple thief had sold the gem to the royal jeweler for a mere pittance and disappeared. He had met with a freak accident and died on the spot. The royal jeweler made a forehead ornament for the royal princess and presented it to his highness the Raja of Jaipur. The jewel had next been stolen by an ancestor of Yograj Sisodia called Pratap Singh as he had easy access, being the chief treasurer of the palace.

Pratap

“This topaz is driving me crazy. I have to have it or I will go crazy. Please gods either free me from this obsession or help me acquire it by fair means or foul”.

The minute Pratap had laid eyes on the topaz he had been hypnotized by its beauty and was driven to do the unthinkable. He seemed to be possessed by the evil spirit of stone itself.

Once the stone came in his possession, bad luck came along with it. His prize winning horses suddenly broke their limbs and an ancient Peepal tree inexplicably shriveled and died. Pratap Singh realized his error but it was too late.

Repentant and grief stricken, in order to make amends, Pratap Singh performed various rituals and tantric remedies with help of knowledgeable priests to appease the malefic planets and demi gods. Then per the sage’s instructions, he placed the stone in this box along with its history to be passed on to his bloodline. Tide of bad luck had been successfully averted.

Sheila and the twin doctors were shaken, enchanted and fascinated by their discovery. Knowing one another well, they decided to gift the topaz to the national museum where it truly belonged, unanimously.

**Hindus worship Peepal tree like a deity, without having any knowledge about its history & origin. Check out a few interesting legends about it. Peepal Tree- The Sacred Fig  (written for a challenge- using “safe” word in a short story 1000 words max)

Yogi sat on the bench but for all they cared he was a piece of furniture!  He looked like a washed out junkie, best ignored. 

Yogi quickly taped the whole meeting on his camera. Then, after reversing his jacket, combing his hair and with a scarf round his neck, he was a changed man!   After all he was a famous detective who had honed his talent for disguise into a fine art.  Like a shadow he weaved in and out of gatherings with no one the wiser.  He was a great success in his game.

Raj Kumar was a makeup man. He fell into this job by chance.  His mother Neeta was famous movie star Ruby’s housekeeper and took him with her as the madam did not mind it.  Ruby often threw away her makeup after a single application and Raj would retrieve it.  He loved to draw and paint and once his mother allowed him to apply makeup on her as Ruby had asked her to be present for her birthday party.   Neeta looked so stunning that Ruby noticed her makeup and asked about it.  When she came to know young Raj had applied it, she asked him to do her face as an experiment.  Raj enhanced Ruby’s already gorgeous looks in such a way that even her agent whistled.  Raj’s career was decided.  Neeta’s only stipulation was that he had to study side by side and Ruby felt the same.

Raj had lost his father in infancy and mother and son had a close relationship.    Neeta’s widowed aunt took care of their house and watched Raj whenever needed.  She loved young Raj as her own son.  Raj fell in love with a classmate Yogita and married her as soon as they both turned twenty-one.  Yogi came a year after and their family was complete.    

Yogi went home and relaxed in his swanky apartment.  He had several places of residence and carried many passports and aliases.  They came in handy in his line of work.  The only way people could contact him was via his front man, business partner Andy who had an office in the business district.  Due to word of mouth and goodwill their business flourished by leaps and bounds.  They had ethics and were very discreet.  Andy helped whenever Yogi needed a second person.  They were very close.  Both were a mere twenty five in age.

The bonus from his recent job was substantial.  The woman was his client’s rival who wanted to access his quotation on a prestigious contract bid.  Yogi’s legwork had not only disqualified but also blacklisted her firm.

He wished his parents and aunty were alive to share his happiness.  They had died in a horrific accident after performing the last rites of great aunty (Neeta’s aged aunt).  A bus had lost control and swerved into their car, killing Raj and Yogita instantly.  Yogi was spared as he had final exams and had stayed back with granny Neeta His most prized possessions were an ornate handcrafted cane which had a sword inside.  It had been used in a blockbuster movie and had been gifted to his dad Raj by the movie director.  The cactus was made of glass and was exquisite. It looked so real.   His parents had bought this for Neeta who had a green thumb and loved cacti best.  Neeta often told Yogi that he should be tough like a cactus- strong, resilient and a survivor.  On his eighteenth birthday, she had gifted him with her glass cactus as Yogi loved it very much.  Whenever he missed his loved ones, he would sit for hours in front of their family portrait together with the cane and the glass cactus by his side.  He had many such blue moments.  Much against her will granny Neeta had allowed Yogi to bring a puppy home as that would take the edge off his loneliness.  His friend Andy often came over to spend the night with him.  Time had flown and now his pup Rocky was seven years old and weighed sixty pounds and was 25” tall.   Granny Neeta was pushing eighty six and wanted Yogi to get married and settle down.  She kept saying she would die in peace once he had settled down with a bride of his own choice.

Yogi was playing with Rocky on the beach when a Frisbee came flying and hit him on the head.  A beautiful vision came running and abjectly begged his pardon.  Yogi’s moth fell open! The young lady was the spitting image of his late beautiful mom! He shook his head to clear it and promptly stuck out his hand for an intro.  The beauty’s name was Ankita and she was visiting her cousins for a week.  She was from Delhi.  

Yogi promptly invited Ankita for dinner as a price for bopping him on the head.  Reluctantly she agreed.  Over dinner, much to their delight they discovered they had much in common.  At close range, she had a strong resemblance to Yogita, Yogi’s mom, yet she was unalike her too.  For next seven days, they met daily and became quite comfortable with one another.  Yogi proposed and she accepted. She could easily transfer to a Bombay branch of her firm.  Rest is history…. 

Shaurya lay on the hospital bed, a broken man.  His grandpa had brought him up his way in the village unlike his siblings in Mumbai. His head was full of principles of honesty, hard work, and filial duty.  Now when he returned home, he was an alien there.  Everyone laughed at him exploiting mercilessly.  Whistling happily he did their bidding until one day he overheard them talking about him with derision.  He was heart broken.

His own kith and kin did not value him.  He lost his appetite and became ill.  His listlessness and lethargy finally hurled him towards suicide.  Just when he was ready to jump off into the Arabian Sea at the Gateway of India, Mumbai, a strong hand grabbed him and held him in a vice like grip.  Angrily he told him” let go of me please, I do not wish to live!”    The savior who was a psychologist had just emerged from nearby Taj Hotel for a walk and fresh air.  He was shocked at this handsome young man of barely twenty five wanting to end his life.  He decided to help him. 

**

Shaurya agreed to be hypnotized by Dr. Homi Mistry.  Gradually step by step doctor took him back towards his
 various births until they came to ancient India and he realized that in one of his previous lives, he was indeed Acharya Charaka!  That startled Dr. Mistry.  He slowly brought him back.  Then he made him hear his own taped voice.  Shaurya was amazed at this revelation.  He was quite familiar with ayurvedic medicines as his grandpa was an ayurvedic practitioner.  Grandpa had already told him that he had the makings of a great healer.  Now Dr. Mistry encouraged him to forget all else and become a master healer!  Shaurya started recalling ancient texts and scriptures and it was as though the floodgates had been opened.    He forgot all about ending his life and started devoting his time to honing his healing skills.  He left home and moved into the jungle and built a cottage for himself.  Wildlife did not scare him as they sensed he was not a threat.  During his brief encounter with Dr. Mistry and world at large, he had realized that the India of today was corrupt with no real values. 

Shaurya/

**Charaka believed that a physician who fails to enter the body of

a patient with the lamp of knowledge and understanding can never treat

diseases. He should first study all the factors, including environment,

 which influence a patient’s disease, and then prescribe treatment. It is

more important to prevent the occurrence of disease than to seek a cure.

He decided to develop a truth virus along the lines of  Truth Serum

used by intelligence wing of government and release this virus in the food and water supply of the country for wider and quick spread. 

**

After lots of trial and error and sleepless nights and back breaking,

finally the virus was ready for testing.  He quickly contacted Dr Mistry

and sought his help.  Dr. Mistry agreed to help test this “truth virus”. 

**

Dr. Mistry had many bollywood stars as patients.

 He decided to test it on them first.

The results were startling.  The truth virus created mayhem and literally wrecked Bollywood.  The stars had infected all those who came in contact with them.  Now all these people started speaking truth resulting in broken marriages, new couplings, real culprits came forward to confess, innocent people was reluctantly released.  Many corrupt politicians and cops became honest.  After the dust had settled, the change for the better could be seen tangibly.  In places where there were roads and running water and wells on paper only now had all those available in reality.  Everyone gradually cleaned up their acts.  Even the polluted air became pure. 

Meanwhile all politicians and corrupt officials were declaring their ill gotten gains and repatriating Swiss bank and offshore accounts.  The treasury was now full to bursting.  All the self aggrandizement statues were removed and only parks and playgrounds were built.  The divide between the haves and have-nots was less startling.

India once again became the” Golden Sparrow” of olden times.

In the meantime, both Shaurya and Dr. Mistry wondered, “how long will it be before a super bug /virus overpowers the truth virus…..  their fingers  crossed in great fervor.

**sourced from internet

I purred happily. Inhaling smoke mixed with perfume gifted by him last night, I got out of bed.  My anger melted.  I wobbled as I rose, knocking off armchair.  His jacket fell with a jingle.  In top pocket I found key 102 of Ritz hotel.  His ex-flame had returned.  I plotted.  They were dead meat.

~~

He rubbed his hands gleefully. The townhouse was empty.  Its contents were his for the taking.  Owners were unaware of their house key loss as they shopped for Christmas gifts.  He tiptoed in from the garage door.  His eyes glistened greedily. Then his blood congealed.  Facing him snarling with exposed fangs, were two Doberman pincers!

~~

Drought had sucked lives like an epidemic.  Man and beast were dying like flies.  Gods had been invoked to no avail.  Rain song and dance could not invoke a single moisture laden cloud.  Gloom blanketed the town.  Then innocent palms childishly pleaded for rain kneeling in church.  She was heard. God responded in thunderous claps. 

~~

Fate on the Lam
Vijay was in a quandary. Ajit Lal, his employer of long standing, had recently
made him chief accountant and wanted him to take on an additional task. His company was in export import business with branches in every continent. He was having sleepless nights due to this request.
Vijay was a frugal person, both in spending and in display of emotions. He was handsome in his own way with well cut features, honest dark eyes which were his best feature. His family consisted of an arranged marriage wife, a college ready son and a daughter in high school. Mercifully both kids were good in studies.
The boss Lal wanted Vijay to take over “off-the-books” accounting from Jr. Lal who was shifting overseas. Vijay being principled was hard put to accept. His self wrestling continued. Meanwhile his son Sanjay was ready for medical college and even after getting 50% scholarship, needed a hefty amount. Fatherly love won and he accepted extra work in lieu of prepayment of required fee amount for Sanjay. Relieved, he rushed home with a bag full of money.
Sanjay stuffed the money in his backpack along with medical admission forms duly filled in and rushed in his car to submit them. Abruptly he had to brake due to a bottleneck ahead. He lowered his window to peek out. There seemed to be a serious accident ahead. He got out for a better look. Realizing, he had no choice but to wait it out, he got back into the car. Then he froze! His backpack had vanished. He searched the car thoroughly but came up empty handed. His heart sank along with his spirits and he put his head on the steering wheel and wept. How was he going to face his hard working dad? He asked himself the hundredth time. Finally, taking courage, he made his way back home on leaden feet. The family’s happy face was now a “study in blue”. A pall hung over their house. Vijay did not utter a word nor did he let his wife say anything. Having read of many suicides by depressed students, he did not wish to hurl his son into a pit of recriminations and despair. He said instead, “let us put our heads together and see what other options we have.” Forlornly, they added up their savings.
Shivam was nimble. He had filched the backpack in a split second and rushed off to his hideaway to examine at leisure. Excitedly he opened the bag and his eyes almost fell out of their sockets! He had never laid eyes on so much money in all of his twelve years. He closed the bag and hugged it tight. There was a rustling sound. He opened it again and noticed medical admission forms. He was literate and thus came to know the bag belonged to Sanjay. The word “medical;” conjured a whole plethora of childhood memories.
Shivam was barely seven when he had been kidnapped by a gang looking for young boys to beg and steal for them in the big cities. He lived in a small village in the foothills of the majestic Himalayas. He was an only child and often worried about his ma and pa. He missed his pet dog Sheroo who had been his constant companion. He wondered how they were doing. He had happy memories of his visits to the local dispensary run by doctor who had returned from America to help people in his village. He had had an unlimited supply of chocolates for Shivam and had even let him help in the dispensary. Shivam too nursed dreams of becoming a doctor and serving his village like his hero the good doctor.
The gang leader was strict with the kids and kept them on a tight leash. He threatened to harm their families if they ran away and this threat kept the hapless kids anchored to this “Fagin” named Khan. He did feed them generously however.
Shivam had squirreled away money from the cruel eyes of Khan and was waiting to go home. His memory was not very good and he was afraid to go it alone. In this backpack he saw his escape hatch. He decided to return the money and ask for Sanjay’s help in finding his way home.
There was only one day left before submission. It was Sunday and Sanjay’s family was still covered by a pall of gloom. Then the doorbell rang. The first thing Vijay saw was Sanjay’s backpack. He let Shivam in and asked him about the bag. Shivam haltingly spilled the beans. He made a clean breast of it all and also said the money was intact. Everyone let out a sigh of relief. No one was angry at Shivam. It took courage to put oneself in danger by defying the Khan. As a thank you, they decided to help Shivam find his folks.

First they changed Shivam’s looks completely. The makeover consisted of brown color hair instead of black and latest cut. Clean clothes and full belly also went a long way in helping this makeover. Shivam looked like a different person altogether.
Internet search had narrowed down possible villages that could be Shivam’s home. Vijay took leave of absence and boarded a train northwards bound. The doctor’s name helped finally reach the correct village. Shivam also recognized his village and hastily sped home. A shock awaited him there. Losing her only child had deranged his mother who had set herself ablaze and his pa succumbed along with the ma as he tried to put out the fire. Sheroo was with the doctor now. The doctor greeted Shivam with a bear hug and Sheroo licked him all over. Shivam’s tale filled the doctor with rage and grief. He adopted Shivam legally. Vijay left for home with a happy frame of mind

(pic of Fagin from wiki)