Chapter 50: Shadows and Shields
August 1984 – Singh Family Residence, Lucknow
The scent of roasted cumin and ghee lingered in the air, drifting from the kitchen to the long wooden dining table where the entire Singh family had gathered for dinner. A copper bowl of hot dal steamed in the center, surrounded by rotis stacked in a soft white cloth, fragrant sabzi, and bowls of mango chutney. The hum of ceiling fans mingled with the low murmur of conversation—until silence slowly fell when the topic turned to the growing threats.
Ajay's brow was furrowed as he sipped water from his steel tumbler. Vandana, seated beside him, reached for his hand under the table—an instinctive gesture of support. The children, sensing the tension, ate quietly. Even little Deepika, usually chatty, remained still, watching the grown-ups with curious eyes.
"We've received three more letters," Ajay finally said, his voice calm but heavy. "One to the medical facility, one at the agriculture supply warehouse... and one delivered directly to our office mailbox." He looked up, his eyes searching the room. "Some of them are just threats, but others... they contain details. Too specific."
Vandana's fingers tightened around his. "Ajay, this is no longer just business."
Dadaji leaned forward slowly, his white kurta lightly stained with turmeric from dinner. "This always happens when you challenge the old systems," he said, his voice deep, steady. "When my father stood against British officers who taxed grain mercilessly in 1932, we were surrounded on every side—officers, landlords, even our own neighbors. But truth walks slowly… and walks far."
Bharat looked at his grandfather, his eight-year-old eyes deep with something far older than his age. "Dadaji, what did your father do?"
Dadaji smiled faintly, nostrils flaring as if recalling long-forgotten heat and dust. "He stayed firm. But he also protected his home. He had men watch the road, post letters in code, and build trust with those inside the system."
Ajay nodded. "We'll do the same."
"I think," Bharat said quietly, putting down his spoon, "it's time we think beyond business. We need to start protecting the family. Not just us in the company—but all of us. Choti bua, chachis, the children, everyone."
All eyes turned to him.
"We've made enemies without even meaning to," he continued. "Corrupt suppliers, middlemen who lost power, and officers who used to take bribes. Now that we're blocking that, they're furious. Some are mad, irrational. It's only a matter of time before someone tries to make it personal."
Ajay nodded slowly. "You're right. We've had silent guards at factories—but it's time to assign protection to the family as well. Kavita and Nirmala should never leave the house unaccompanied. The kids' school pickup must be watched. Even the driver needs to be vetted again."
Raghav spoke for the first time, his voice a mix of concern and practicality. "I'll coordinate the assignments. And maybe it's time we bring Arjun into this—his army network can help."
"Yes," Ajay agreed. "Arjun's experience in intelligence and security can shape our approach."
Bharat added, "We can even install cameras—like closed-circuit ones—at the gate, the hallway, and near every office department. It's not common yet in India, but I've read… I mean… I believe it'll become standard."
Everyone at the table was listening now—not just out of curiosity, but with a certain awe. Even young Aditya stopped chewing. Though Bharat was only eight, he was no longer seen as a child by the family—especially not after months of extraordinary ideas that had changed their lives.
Then Bharat looked directly at his father. "Pitaji… we also can't always remain outside of politics."
Ajay raised an eyebrow. "You're saying we should join politics?"
"No," Bharat replied carefully, "but we must make friends in it."
A silence passed before Bharat continued, "Congress will win this year's election. I… feel that. Rajiv Gandhi will be important—very important. He is not like others. He doesn't wear lies like a second skin. He believes in science, in technology. He wants India to be modern, to be number one."
Dadi, who had been quietly listening with folded hands, finally spoke. "Rajiv is young. He was a pilot once, no?"
"Yes," Bharat said. "And he thinks differently. Like a new blood. A new sapling in a forest of old trees. If we support Congress a little—even with a donation—it shows goodwill. And later, when approvals get stuck or corrupt officials try to stop our projects… someone might be there to help. Quietly."
Raghav looked uncertain. "Won't that look like bribery?"
"No," Bharat answered, "if we do it openly, respectfully. As a citizen supporting development. Not asking for favors—but aligning with the future."
Vandana gave a small sigh. "You really think like an old soul, beta…"
Bharat smiled faintly, "Or maybe a soul from the future."
Ajay leaned back in his chair. "We'll consider it. Carefully. And we'll do more—offer scholarships to bright students. Sponsor research competitions. We have the funds now to show we're not just building roads and factories—we're building India."
"And we must be patient," Dadaji added, placing his hand on the table with quiet force. "Truth cannot be rushed. But if you stay strong… they'll eventually have to walk your road."
A brief silence followed. Outside, the crickets sang beyond the courtyard window. A gentle Lucknow breeze stirred the corner of the dining cloth.
Ajay rose to his feet. "Let's begin small. A private scholarship fund. Quiet donations to Congress. We'll contact Arjun for building a security framework, and I'll instruct the legal team to prepare our compliance files with clarity. No gaps."
Bharat looked down at his plate, where the last bite of roti still remained.
"One more thing, Pitaji," he said.
"Yes, beta?"
"We should avoid fighting every battle at once. Right now, we're young. Let's protect the roots. And grow strong… before we challenge the forest."
Ajay smiled.
Vandana reached out and ran her hand through Bharat's hair. "You'll be the forest someday."
And across the room, Dadaji silently whispered in his heart the same words he once heard from his father during their fight against the British:
> "एक पेड़ से शुरू हुआ था... अब वटवृक्ष बनकर सबको छाया दे।"
[Translation: It started with one tree… may it become a great banyan and shelter all.]
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