"I must see them!" Papu exclaimed. He was led to Eponine's room with Raj at his heel. Eponine lay slightly elevated in her bed, her face drawn with concern. She clutched to her bosom a tiny brown baby bundled in a pink blanket. The baby was awake, but not crying. In the center of its tiny forehead was a brown, perfectly formed third eye. Papu recoiled in horror. He shielded his eyes with his hand, unable to look at mother or child. Eponine broke out in unrestrained sobbing. "Papu, I'm sorry! I tried to warn you!"

Papu said, "I have made a terrible mistake. I have sinned against the gods, against you, Eponine, against my ancestors. I have brought an abomination into the world..."

"No, Papu!"

"Papu, try to calm yourself," admonished Raj.

"Calm myself! Are you mad? I have ruined everything." He turned to Eponine. "You have bewitched me with your evil. Now that I am doomed, I can see it all clearly. This is the price I have paid for my success.

"When we stood on the mountain in Montreal, you showed me the world as Satan showed it to Jesus, but instead of refusing, I accepted. And now I have lost the world as well as my immortal soul."

"Oh, Papu!" Eponine's tears came out in torrents, the same as the sheets of rain that pounded on the window of her room. Raj clutched Papu's arm. Again he tried to calm him. Papu broke free and ran from the room. Raj turned to Eponine. "Don't worry. He's drunk. We'll call the baby Shiva. He'll grow into a great man and the Indian people will revere him." Raj turned to the doctor who, transfixed, had witnessed the entire scene. Calmly, he addressed him. Doctor Krishnamenon, do you think a sedative might be in order?"

Papu ran from the building into the wild storm. His yellow Lamborghini was parked in the adjacent parking lot and he got in, soaked with rain, behind the wheel. He took out his gold flask and hungrily swallowed the cognac. His life was in ruins.

Everything was a shambles. How could he have allowed himself to be bewitched by that whore? She was the personification of evil. And that baby, if you could dignify that creature with such a name! He resolved to murder it immediately, and damn the consequences. Nobody would indict him for such an act. It was clear that such a monster could not be permitted to live and grow. He ignited the engine and put the car into gear, all the time taking swallows from the flask. First he must flee. He must flee into hiding so that he could plot the murder of that bitch and her bastard child. The car swerved wildly through the flooded, deserted streets, higher and higher into the hills, faster and faster as he pressed the accelerator to the floor to escape the banshees and screaming demons that pursued closely behind him. He caught the attention of a police patrol which gave chase, its blaring siren adding to the cacophony of thunder and lighting exploding in Papu's head. He attempted a hairpin turn at 200 kilometers an hour. The auto skidded off the road into a ravine and exploded in an infernal ball of fire.

In the end, Papu Bhopal achieved his wish of becoming immortal in Indian culture, though not as he had imagined. The story of the rich, powerful king of cinema who married the three-eyed beauty and threw himself over the cliff after she gave birth to the three-eyed baby became the stuff of fabled legend, and was the subject of endless film remakes the world over.