A loud ambulance siren brought Vinoth back to his senses. The events that occurred in the day had been very much unexpected and tiring. As he sat in the park bench, his hand still clutched the surgical knife that slit Dr. Srinivasan. He had thought he got better of his temper but now he realized the fact. His temper was very much the same.
Some time earlier, Raj rushed Vinoth to get the medicine when his dad Srinivasan did not turn up for a long time. When he tried to locate the doctor in the big house, he found a door open and peeped in. When he found the picture of Rajarajan there he could not control his anger. He realized he was standing in the house of his descendents.
He wanted revenge. He saw that the doctor was in a hurry. He followed him and found that the doctor found his identity. He could take it no more. In a rage he killed the doctor. And ran towards the exit as far as he could and found this off beaten Park to sit and decide what to do next.
When he closed his eyes series of events crossed his mind in a flash. He could see Rajarajan laughing hysterically, King Ravi Varma’s elegant pose, and the tears in the monarch’s eyes when they met last.
No matter how hard he tried he could never forget any of them. He saw his hand. It was still holding the bloody knife but the fingers missed the kings signet ring. ‘ I cannot let them have that ring. I will get it back no matter how hard it is’
Dr. Srinivasan’s residence.
His father’s loud screams brought Raj running. He was completely dumbstruck. Though he was a doctor and handled patients in pool of blood before this was different. He could almost feel the pain his father had. He did not know what to do.
He rushed to treat his dad. He carried him with all his strength downstairs to the consultation room where he kept all his medicines. His father was waving at him and wanted to tell something. He could hardly apprehend what he was telling. As he lay his father on the examination table he clutched Raj’s hand tightly and beckoned him to listen.
Raj knelt down to match his father’s lips on his ears as Srinivasan whispered, ‘It is not Ravi Varma. It is Thondaiman’. And breathed his last.