A sudden prickle crawled up the back of Kunal's neck—unseen eyes, silent pressure—his now-conscious sixth sense flaring to life without warning. Danger. Close. Focused. His gut clenched, overriding the lingering awe from the Pandit's cryptic words. He saw the man leaning nonchalantly in the shadowed archway down the गली (gali - lane), newspaper hiding his face, but the feeling was undeniable. They were being watched.
"जल्दी निकलते हैं यहां से," (jaldi nikalte hain yahaan se - lets get out of here quickly) Kunal breathed, his voice low and tight, not looking directly at the watcher but subtly changing direction, pulling Vaibhav with him into an adjacent, even narrower lane. Vaibhav asked, " क्या हुआ अचानक से?" (Kya hua achanak se? - What happened all of a sudden?) "बाद में बताता हूं, सुरक्षित जगह पे।" (Baad mein batata hoon, safe jagah pe - Let's go now. Will tell you later, in a safe place.)
Vaibhav, despite his usual energetic chatter, reacted instantly to the urgent command in Kunal's tone and the sudden tension radiating from him. "ठीक है, भाई साहब," (Theek hai, Bhai Sahab - Okay, Brother.) he replied without question, his observant eyes quickly scanning their surroundings as he matched Kunal's quickened pace.
What followed was a masterclass in navigating the ancient labyrinth of Kashi. Kunal, driven by the raw instinct screaming danger, pointed them down seemingly random alleys, while Vaibhav, with his intimate knowledge of the city's capillaries, chose the connecting paths, the shortcuts through temple courtyards, the brief, anonymous merges with denser crowds near market stalls. Kunal focused on his gut feeling – a prickling sensation when he felt eyes on them, a slight easing when they took a turn that felt 'right'. He risked quick glances back, catching glimpses of someone moving perhaps too deliberately through the throng several turns behind them, confirming his instinct wasn't just paranoia. Vaibhav, reading Kunal's cues, moved fluidly, using the ebb and flow of pedestrian traffic, the sudden blare of a scooter horn, the distraction of a arguing vendors, to break line of sight repeatedly. After ten minutes of heart-pounding, zig-zagging progress, they slipped into a particularly crowded lane filled with flower sellers near the entrance to their guesthouse's main street, pausing in the fragrant chaos.
Kunal leaned against a wall, catching his breath, scanning the crowd. The intense feeling of being watched had finally subsided. Vaibhav wiped sweat from his brow, blowing out a relieved breath. "Close call, huh? What was that all about? You looked like you saw यमराज (Yamraj - Yama) himself back there."
"Not यमराज (Yamaraj - Yama)," Kunal said grimly, pushing off the wall and heading towards the guesthouse entrance. "Later."
Inside their locked room, with the flimsy curtains drawn again, Kunal finally let the adrenaline ebb. Vaibhav locked the door and immediately started checking the window latch, his usual easy-going demeanor replaced by focused concern.
"Okay," Vaibhav said, turning back to Kunal. "Talk. What spooked you?"
Kunal explained, keeping his voice low. "When we left the Pandit's lane... a guy in an archway. Reading a newspaper, but he wasn't reading. Watching us. Or the house. My gut screamed he was a watcher."
Vaibhav nodded slowly. "I saw someone too, when we looked back from that intersection near the silk shop. Didn't get a clear look, but he felt... out of place. Too still." He frowned. "So, your 'personal research' has people following you? यार (Yaar - Bro), what exactly did you get yourself into?"
Before Kunal could formulate a careful answer, he quickly updated Ananya and Abhishek via secure text: Confirmed watcher after leaving Pandit Sharma's. Lost tail in galis. Danger here is real. Pandit was cautious for a reason.
Abhishek's reply was instant: Told you! Move guesthouses AGAIN. Tonight. Can't stay put if they ID'd you near Sharma's. Need to rethink Varanasi strategy. Maybe pull out?
Ananya added: Oh god. Be safe! Does this connect to Sharma? Was he the target, or you? The knowledge he holds... maybe the Council watches *him*?
Kunal stared at the messages. Abhishek was right about the risk. Ananya's question about who the target was resonated. He felt torn. He needed the knowledge here, but staying felt increasingly reckless.
Hours later, deep into the night, long after the city's main bustle had died down, leaving only the distant sounds of stray dogs and the occasional late-night vehicle, a soft, hesitant knock came at their door.
Instantly alert, Kunal and Vaibhav froze, exchanging wide-eyed glances. "कौन हो सकता है इस समय? (Kaun ho sakta hai iss samay?) Vaibhav whispered. (Who could it be at this time?) He silently picked up the heavy metal water bottle. Kunal moved stealthily to the peephole, his heart pounding.
He blinked in disbelief. It was Pandit Ram Dayal Sharma, cloaked in a simple dark shawl that obscured much of his slight frame, looking even more ancient and bird-like in the dim corridor light. He carried a cloth-wrapped bundle.
What the...? Kunal hesitated for only a second before undoing the locks. The Pandit slipped inside like a wraith, immediately gesturing for Kunal to relock the door. He glanced at Vaibhav holding the bottle, a flicker of dry amusement in his sharp eyes.
"Forgive this intrusion," the Pandit whispered, his voice barely disturbing the air. "But I observed your departure earlier. And your... hasty detour." He looked directly at Kunal. "The shadows you noticed? They linger often near my home. They have for years. They watch those who seek certain kinds of knowledge, certain lineages."
Kunal stared at him. "You knew? You knew they were watching?"
"I suspected," the Pandit corrected. "One develops a sense for such things when one studies the patterns beneath the surface." He gestured towards the bundle he carried. "Your questions today, Bhai Sahab," he used Vaibhav's term respectfully, "though veiled in academic curiosity, resonated with inquiries I have not heard pursued with such... intensity... in a long time. They touched upon the Ārambham, upon structures. It made me believe your quest, introduced by young Tiwari here, was genuine and perhaps... significant. Important enough for those shadows to take notice."
He placed the bundle on the table, carefully unwrapping it. Inside lay several stacks of incredibly old manuscripts, far older and more fragile-looking than anything Kunal had seen even in the Asiatic Society. Some were palm-leaf, etched with faint script; others were on a material resembling ancient भोजपत्र (bhojpatra - birch bark).
"These," the Pandit said, his voice filled with reverence, "are not from my public collection. Fragments passed down, protected. Some whisper echoes from times even before the Vedas were fully codified... Rig Vedic sensibilities, if not script." He indicated a particularly old-looking sheaf. "They speak not of gods and rituals in the way later texts do, but of the ऋत (Ṛta - cosmic order) itself – its structure, its vibrations, the geometry of sound, the interplay of प्राण (Prāṇa - life energy) and चित् (chit - consciousness)."They explore Shunya as the dark cradle of light, where the unborn universe sleeps." He met Kunal's gaze, the intensity startling. "सम्भाल के रखना, (Sambhal ke rakhna - Keep them safe) he urged. ये सिर्फ किताबें नहीं हैं। ( "Yeh sirf kitaabein nahin hain - These aren't just books.) ". "They are shards of the primal code - etched into the void, scripting the fate of stars and souls alike. Dangerous, if misinterpreted. Illuminating, if approached with wisdom and the right key." He glanced meaningfully at Kunal's pocket where the obsidian fragment lay hidden.
Kunal felt breathless, looking at the tangible pieces of knowledge that might form the true foundation of the Shunya Codex.
The Pandit wasn't done. "But understanding these requires more than just intellect. It requires a specific kind of mind, a specific training." He produced the small slip of paper with the Devanagari script. "अरुण",(Arun) he dropped a name suddenly. "My student at BHU. Physics is his formal study, but his soul speaks Sanskrit. I have taught him since boyhood the deep structures of Panini, the philosophical nuances of Nyaya, the mathematical poetry of Vedic texts. He bridges the worlds you seek to bridge. He asks questions the orthodox fear." The Pandit offered the paper to Kunal. "Find him. Speak with him. Mention Ram Dayal Sharma. He may understand the nature of your inquiry, help you navigate these fragments."
Kunal took the paper, the name feeling like another key. "धन्यवाद, पंडितजी।" (Dhanyavaad, Panditji - Thank you, Panditji.) he said sincerely. "मैं आपका आभारी हूं।" ( Main aapka abhari hoon - I am indebted to you.)
"Your gratitude is premature," the Pandit cautioned. "Knowledge demands responsibility." He hesitated, then added one final piece of guidance. "These texts hint at cosmic cycles, कालचक्र (Kālacakra - Wheel of time), influencing the flow of life force and potential. Kashi is one powerful nexus, yes. But for understanding time, calculation, prediction related to these cycles... Ujjain holds deeper secrets. An old friend resides there, Acharya Bhaskar. A recluse, master of ancient ज्योतिष ( Jyotiṣa - astronomy) and calendrical lore. He guards texts concerning celestial alignments, perhaps even the 'Crimson Star' if prophecies hold true. When you are ready... seek him out. Mention my name."
With a final, sharp nod, Pandit Sharma drew his shawl around himself and, before Kunal or Vaibhav could say more, slipped out of the room as silently as he had arrived, vanishing into the Varanasi night.
Kunal and Vaibhav stared at the closed door, then at the precious, incredibly ancient manuscripts on the table.
"Whoa," Vaibhav breathed again, breaking the spell. "Bhai... Rig Vedic texts? Secret student? Another contact in Ujjain? That Pandit wasn't just testing you; he was investing in you! He thinks your project is the real deal!"
Kunal picked up a fragile palm leaf, the strange script seeming to vibrate faintly under his touch. He felt it too. This wasn't just about his past life anymore. It was about rediscovering something fundamental. He immediately messaged Ananya and Abhishek, detailing the Pandit's incredible visit, the ancient texts, the contact Arun, and the new destination, Ujjain.
Ananya's reply was ecstatic: Rig Vedic fragments?! Arun at BHU - bridging science/Sanskrit?! Ujjain/Astronomy?! Kunal, this is HUGE! Photgraph EVERYTHING! Abhishek was more grounded: Good contacts. Good resources. BUT makes you a bigger target. Meet Arun ASAP, then plan Ujjain carefully. Leaving Varanasi soon seems wise. Stay low.
A new energy surged through Kunal, pushing back the fear. He had tangible knowledge, a potential teammate nearby perfectly suited for the task, and a clearer path forward, stretching from Kashi to Ujjain. He looked at Vaibhav, who was already carefully examining the manuscripts with fascinated curiosity.
"Okay, Billa," Kunal said, his voice firm with purpose. "Tomorrow, we find Arun."
To be continued…