Thousand Years | A Shubman Gill & Ishan Kishan Fanfiction ✓

Vagesh and Darpan

1389 AD, The Rajkot market

The Rajkot market would often appear like a painting to the creator from the skies. A multi-coloured genre art with vibrant hues sprinkled everywhere. There was the shine of metalware, the tawny round-shaped sweets called pedas, the yellows of snacks or farsaan, the reds and greens of silhouettes clad in cotton. Among the hustle, there was a man who had brought a new colour to the town : Purple.

He was a merchant who had brought ta foreign colour, the colour of royalty from where he hailed and it had brought passion in the marketplace. The young were among the first to notice him, pulling their loved ones to his shop. He sold one garment after the other. To the middle aged lady whose eyes shined as she let her fingers slide on the majestic chunni that she would now use to cover her head especially when she'd go out in the sun. To the old man with a long moustache who was eyeing him suspiciously and about to bargain. He sold and sold and sold until the last piece of garment - one purple kediyu, a pleated upper garment with long sleeves, remained.

Two pairs of eyes yearned for it.

“I got here first!” Darpan said, his voice pleading the slightly taller boy standing in front of him.

“I saw it first! It's not my fault that there was a commotion near the fruit seller that prevented me and my mother from reaching here sooner.”
Vagesh reasoned.

Darpan’s eyes looked at the Kediyu and then back at Vagesh. “It's a really nice colour, isn't it.”

“It is.” Vagesh agreed, his lips twitching before he broke into a smile.

“Is there really only one of this size left, Kaka?” Vagesh asked.

“Yes.” The shopkeeper said. He wished he could promise the boys that he would bring another garment for them but he couldn't stay in the town for long.

Sure his clothes were alluring but beneath their royal charm was a dye. A dye that was weak and would wear off quickly and they'd be left with a dull piece of cloth breaking the promise of elegance. And before the people had the chance to complain, he would be off to another town he'd hunt and make money from.

Darpan's mother was about to speak when Darpan said, “I have an idea!” When Vagesh’s face shrunk upon hearing the shopkeeper’s answer Darpan knew that the nine year old boy wanted the garment as dearly as he did and he had racked his brain to think of a way to do so.

“We could share it! The days you will wear it, I'll wear something else and when I wear it you can wear something different. Besides I really think the colour would look much better on your fair complexion than mine.”

“My fair complexion? What are you talking about? Have you seen yourself? You're just as fair! I think it would look as good on you as on me.”

They both were grinning at each other when Darpan said, “Too bad that we don't have two Kediyus to wear and let others decide who looks better.”

Vagesh laughed, throwing his head back. He looked at Darpan and said, “One day, we will know.”

******
1393 AD

The boys still don't know who would look better in purple. But what they do know is that day, Darpan's thoughtful offer had made a special place in Vagesh's heart.

In the next four years, the boys had borrowed countless things from each other.

Whenever Vagesh saw Darpan looking at something he wore with admiration he would lend it to Darpan. And whenever Darpan bought a darker shade of clothing he'd persuade Vagesh to try it.

It was as if they were not lending clothes but versions of each other that acted as a reminder that in this crowded world they had a friend who would share even his most favourite item with them. Sharing garments made them feel mature and they liked to believe that they were wise young boys who cherished people over possessions.

But even the wise liked to roam in the marketplace in the lazy afternoons.

“You're doing it again, Darpan.” Vagesh said, fondly shaking his head as his friend slowed his pace when they encountered a shop selling sweets. Darpan resisted the urge to inhale and said,

“I know I am! Stop calling me out every time.” His face was more amicable than his irritated tone.

“And how many moons will it take you to go inside the shop and ask for the recipe for their malai pedas?”

“I- I'm working on it alright?”

Vagesh knew that in most circumstances Darpan was the more confident one among the two. But when it came to cooking, Darpan had the timidness that comes with intense fondness for something, at times, robbing the young of their words.

Vagesh would happily wait for the day until Darpan overcame his shyness. Till then he'd slowly keep nudging his friend towards his passion.

Like today.

Vagesh's eyes fell on the fortune-teller sitting next to the sweet shop. If he stopped there for some time, Darpan could get the chance to overhear the conversations between the shopkeeper and the buyers. Maybe someone would ask them for the recipe and….yes!

Vagesh takes a surprised Darpan by his elbow, dragging him to the fortune teller. It takes about three moments of studying Vagesh's eager grin for Darpan to decipher his thoughts. Ah. He grins as well.

The fortune teller is not oblivious to their camaraderie and his glint as the two boys approach him.

When Vagesh forwards his hands, the fortune teller shakes his head.

He had sensed an energy between the two boys, a strong magnetic force that had intrigued him. Either he would look at their destinies together or he wouldn't take a look at all.

Vagesh is about to protest but Darpan puts a hand on his shoulder. The fortune teller’s proposition had made him curious and now he wanted to know his fate too.

They both opened their palms to the man who had seen many palm lines. Of sisters. And brothers. Of friends and lovers. But he had never seen such a pattern in two sets of hands.

A pattern that would seem different to the naked eye but when looked closely, one could see that it left identical shapes on their palms.

“Well…what do you see?” The two boys prompted together.

“A pattern that tells me that you two are destined to follow different paths.”

Vagesh and Darpan huffed. They already knew that. Vagesh was drawn towards horse riding and wanted to serve the army. And Darpan's heart lied in cooking. Before they had a chance to express their annoyance the fortune teller held his hand up.

“Listen to me boys. This is an unusual pattern. The angles of the lines tell me that you are destined to follow different paths. Destiny will take you two in different directions. Different places. But these lines tell me, and mind you, our lines never lie. They tell me that you will find ways back to each other.”

The two boys laughed with the adolescent arrogance of knowing that their friendship would stand the test of time, only they were too naive and mortal to understand that the creator was speaking through the fortune teller.

The time hadn't come for them to realise that the reason why they would find a way back to each other was because they were made for each other.

In every lifetime.