He Hates Me; I Hate Him Not

Shura jumped out in front of the window and came face to face with the spirit. Or rather face to white cloth since the spirit's face was covered in it. The spirit immediately flinched back, almost stumbling back and falling, and held out its hands to grab onto something. Shura pounced at the chance to capture the Pret and grasped its hands, pulling it towards him. The sudden jerk yanked the white sheer cloth off the Pret's face and there it was….

Throb. Throb. Throb.

A throbbing that Shura had never felt before. Sure, he had felt occasional throbbings now and then, but this throbbing was nothing like those. It was a special kind of throbbing that churned from your heart and went straight to your…..

"Let go," the Pret said in a low, hoarse voice.

"Huh," That was all Shura could utter, his eyes still transfixed at the moist lips that shimmered in the moonlight and the flawlessly shaped nose, with the perfect length and rise.

"Let the f*ck go!" This time, the Pret hissed, jerking its hands back.

Thankfully, Shura's blood was quick to rush back to his hand, and he held the two hands even tighter. That was when he noticed the warmth of the Pret's skin, very very uncharacteristic of spirits that roamed without a body.

Now, the Pret began to wrench back its hands like its life depended on it. Shura could hear it sneer and curse, although he could not see its eyes since it was facing away from the moon. The more the Pret yanked its hands, the harder Shura pulled it, using almost ALL of his strength that was very very unusual for him too. He began to worry that he was pulling the Pret's arms so hard, he might tear them off entirely from its body.

Suddenly, the Pret's lips moved, and Shura could see it silently murmuring a few words. Not a second later, a blood curling screech filled his ears, and he reflexively let go of the hands, to guard both his ears. Freed, the Pret swiftly ran away, almost floating through the fields of the grasses and across the pond, towards where the thicket lined the border of the central and the eastern kingdoms. Shura jumped through the window, his steel forgotten in his room, and chased after the enigmatic Pret. After sprinting for ten steps or so, he realized the Mantra incantation that the Pret used was making his muscles very sore and weak. After a few more steps, Shura crashed to the ground, in the middle of the tall grasses, and fell forward, his face digging into the dirt.

"Prets usually do not use Mantra spells, do they?" That was Shura's last thought before he entirely passed out and fell to the ground like a log of wood.

When Shura came to, his face was still planted in the dirt. His body was too warm to feel the early morning chill, but he could not ignore the relentless chirping of the bird above his head. He turned around and immediately coughed up some dirt. He brushed off more dirt from his face and sprang up, shaking the sleep off of his head.

Shura was still in the middle of the tall grass field, the grass blades were dark green and covered in dew drops. He saw the pond and immediately remembered the events of the last night. He regretted letting the Pret go. After several moments of frustration, he eventually stood up and walked towards the pond to wash the sleep off his face.

Later, he found his men waiting around in front of the tavern slash inn.

"Prince Shura," they called out, elated as soon as they saw him. "Thank god you are safe! The innkeeper informed us you went missing and…."

Shura held up his hand, and they immediately shut up. Haish, exactly like his father, they thought.

Shura walked into the inn and found the old man.

"Mister innkeeper, I apologize. I was this close to catching the Pret last night, but it escaped. If you allow me to stay here for one more night," Shura brought out four more gold coins from his coin purse and placed them on the desk, "I promise I will have the spirit bound and gagged for you.."

"Oh, was it not you, then?" The innkeeper asked, looking unsure.

"I what?"

"Who bound and gagged the Pret last night?"

"What are you prattling about? What do you mean bound and gagged?"

Without explaining further, the old man mysteriously gestured Shura to follow him. With no guest that early in the morning, he left his front desk unattended. The two of them walked up the stairs, and the old man innkeeper unlocked one of the rooms, three doors away from where Shura lodged the night before.

Shura followed the man inside the room, eyes full of doubt and curiosity. Soon as he entered, his gaze fell to a diaphanous shadow that looked like it was floating in the air. Its arms were certainly bound with iron, which was said to render any kind of ghost ineffective. It only had a wispy tail instead of legs and its face was non existent. This spirit was certainly not the Pret that Shura saw last night.

"When I came inside the room this morning to clean it up, I almost had a heart attack when I saw this. I thought it was your grace who caught this evil spirit." He looked at the Shura.

Shura's mind was running miles a minute.

"But now, I do not know what to do with this spirit. So, I have summoned a tantric to exorcise it."

"Hmm. Is this all? Is that all the spirit you found in your inn?"

"There are more?!" The man was terrified at the idea.

"No, it is alright." Shura contemplated for a moment, tapping his index finger on his chin. "Anyways, now that you have it captured, we will leave. Umm, have you have seen a white spirit in the area?"

"A white spirit?" The man's eyes now were big as pineapples.

"No, no, never mind."

Shura left the town with his men and rode towards his destination. The group moved along a dirt road towards the thicket that stood between the central kingdom where he was from and the eastern kingdom, where his potential teacher was waiting to discipline him only to be disappointed at the end.

"Men, if someone passes through this thicket, is the eastern kingdom on the other side?" Shura asked his men.

"Yes," "Yeah," "That is what it looks like"; his men responded variously to confirm his suspicion.

"Hmm, all right. Soon as we cross the thicket, find a nice town and buy me a bunch of nice clothes. I will have to go in pursuit of something as soon as we reach the Eastern kingdom. And I plan to stay there for few more weeks." He proudly announced.

"My prince, aren't you planning to stay at the gurukul for few more years?" One of the men cautiously asked.

"Oh yes, sure, yes. That too." Shura smiled mischievously.

Soon as the group arrived at the next big town, they bought more printed dhotis, brocade tunics, and embroidered stoles for the demon prince. The shop keepers gladly sold them all the clothes, charging them ten times the usual price and the prince happily paying for what they charged. He wanted to look his best the next time he went ghost hunting and encounters the Pret. They continued to ride towards Lamkhon town, where that world famous gurukul was, and Shura's elated mood began to turn a little foul.

"Prince Shura, you must wear the new clothes before you meet your guru. First impressions are last impressions."

Shura scoffed. "Old man must be already impressed by me." He boasted. "Who will not be? After all, I am the prince of the five kingdoms." Plus, Shura had his own plans once he got there. The moment the old fool turns his back, he would bolt to look for the far more interesting white spirit he saw two nights ago. He had already determined that the spirit must be sheltering somewhere close to the thicket. So, that was where he would return once he escapes.

"Ah, what a magnificent sight!" One of the riders exclaimed, derailing Shura's thoughts. "Very rightly named Padmalok [House of Lotus] Gurukul."

Shura internally grumbled, but when he looked ahead, he saw what the man meant.

The entire gurukul was four longhouses facing each other, each of the exact same dimension and exact same distance from each other. Three of the longhouses had an attached garden, with roses and jasmine and lilies and other rarest of the flora. In front of the fourth longhouse, facing the path that the group was riding on, lay a lotus pond, water still and clear, and full of lotus flowers large, medium, and small, sitting on their bowl shaped leaves, floating gently in the soft breeze. The breezed carried the fragrances of all the flowers that blended in perfectly to give rise to the most alluring scent.

The path in front of the group forked into two to make space for the lotus pond. The men took the one to the left and approached the House of Lotus Gurukul, the training place for Guru Vashistha. From afar, they saw children and young men of different ages and sizes, all seated in rows after rows in the courtyard, with their legs crossed, their eyes closed, and their hands gently placed on their knees, all chanting the single word that gave rise to this universe, "Ommmmmmmm."

Shura turned to his men and signaled them to dismount. He then reluctantly swung off the back of his Purusha too and gave the reins to one of his men. With his now somewhat heavy trunk held tightly in his hand, a charmingly sweet smile on his lips, and two of his men behind him, he approached his peers who were meditating. When Shura reached the open area where the disciples had gathered, his eyes found the master of this gurukul, Guru Vashistha, sitting in front of all the students, with his back to Shura and his men.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Guru Vashistha's hard, distinguished voice spoke up, "Pause."

Shura was not sure if the direction was meant for him or for the disciples sitting on the ground, but the chanting stopped, which took care of his doubt.

Shura, then, reluctantly approached the guru, who was still sitting on the ground, his back straight and covered in surprisingly black and lustrous hair. Shura might have acted nonchalant about the whole affair, but he could now feel how disinclined he was to spend even one moment in this gurukul, and wanted to run back to his palace as fast as his feet would take him. Once he reached close enough, he put down his trunk and clasped his palms together.

"Guru Vashisth, regards." Shura reiterated the words that he was made to memorize by his men. "I am here since you have accepted me as your student. I am blessed for this chance, and I promise you upon my honor and blood that I will serve you to the best of my ability." He heaved a sigh as he uttered the last word.

Guru Vashisth slowly raised himself to his feet, his movement surprisingly lithe and graceful for an old man. And then he turned and…..

Throb. Throb. Throb.

Shura had never looked at anything so intensely like he was looking at his guru. He was no guru at all! No! He was the white spirit from two nights ago! The same nose, the exact same lips, Shura would never forget those.

Throb. Throb. Throb.

Shura opened his mouth, then closed, then opened, then closed like a fish gulping in water.

There was a fleeting look of realization, too, on Guru Vashisth's face, followed by a very faint shade of disgust and then the final look of impassivity.

"Welcome to my gurukul, Prince Shura. I have received news from your father. But do not think for one moment, you will be treated any differently here. You will be subjected to the same standards as all my other students. Now, once you settle, join the other students in meditation."

But, Shura did not move at all. His brain barely registered what the man said. All he felt now looking at the man in broad daylight was…

Throb. Throb. Throb.