People in her social circle were married, divorced, remarried and reproducing. And she was still waffling about finishing her education.
When she’d first come back to Delhi a month ago, she’d actually sent an impulsive email to the Dean of the Pol-Sci school in NYU, outlining her peculiar situation and wondering if there was any way she could give her exams long-distance.
She’d received an auto response email that her request had been received by the Dean’s office. The official reply back time was eight to twelve weeks. Business weeks. Sophia didn’t think anything was going to materialize from there, but it had been empowering sending that one email.
It was empowering making decisions again. Even ones related to buying the best baasa fish and how best to prepare it for dinner.
She missed being in charge of things. On the cruises, everything was taken care of, for her. And she had always worked extra shifts to pull in more money to send back home for her father – it was not easy paying for round the clock care, plus all the medical expenses. So, she had never known any rest days.
She’d actually stayed back in a few ports when she was forced to stay on dry land and worked jobs at restaurants and cafes. Odd jobs that paid in foreign currency.
All so she didn’t have to come home. All so she didn’t feel like she was such a burden on her dada who was single handedly trying to save their father’s tarnished legacy. Or see the broken shell her father had become. And look where that had gotten her.
“I think I might even apply for a job this week, dad. It’s time to update the resume,” she informed her father.
He didn’t reply. Sophia remembered the Disneyland trip her father had organized for Nakul’s tenth birthday. How strong and vital he’d been as he carried her on his shoulders. A giant of a man when, in truth, he’d been five eight at best.
He’d been her hero. Her father who had taught her to play cards and helped shape the strong, confident woman she’d become.
She would always remember him like that - strong and vital as he carried her around on his shoulders while she squealed at seeing Mickey and Goofy.
“I missed you, daddy,” Sophia said softly. “I wish I’d come back more often. Just to have these chats with you. They clear my head, you know? I have had a foggy head for a long time. Like I was swimming underwater.”
She patted his knee and waited, foolishly, for some response from him. None came. She didn’t really expect one but there was a small part of her heart that hoped. She’d long since stopped feeling angry about how selfish, how short-sighted her father had been in trying to end it all. In putting that kind of burden on Nakul, who was only a few years older than her.
“It didn’t help that I fell in love with Public Enemy Number One, you know.” She added a chuckle at the end.
Of course, it wasn’t easy talking about Bharat. Especially once she had actually come to her senses, somewhere over the Indian Ocean and realized what she had exactly done.
She had asked for money from him for the time they had spent together. Like a common prostitute. She didn’t even know how much he had paid her.
And she had accused him of being a heartless, thoughtless orphan.
Between those two things and running after her ass of a brother, any chance she might have had with the man were gone.
Sophia was realistic enough to know when something was over. She had known her lobbying career was over when her father went almost bankrupt, almost killed himself and slid into a coma. She had known Nakul would never forgive her for wanting Bharat enough to break all the rules.
And she knew…oh, how she knew that Bharat probably hated her now.
For the terrible way she had behaved with him. It had been less than ten minutes. But it had been enough to destroy whatever love had bloomed between them.
She knew all of this…but, just like when she patted her father’s knee she expected a response, a part of her broken, mangled heart…it wished for the impossible.
It wished for Bharat back. She had emailed him once. A stilted apology email that had made her throw up once she hit send on it.
She hadn’t heard back from him, of course. But…she hoped.
The NYU thing was a good excuse to fly to America and see him. Except, she was running low on savings and couldn’t really afford a trip right now. And calling him was lame. As lame as sending an email.
“Next week,” she murmured. “I’ll call him next week. I will figure out what excuse to use to call him by then and call him. He probably won’t pick up but I can always try, right?”
“Call whom?”
Sophia stiffened and forced herself to turn back and see Nakul.
~~~~~
Nakul’s heart constricted, as it had for the last one month, whenever he saw his sister. He’d come back from his dash across the Atlantic and found her at home. Having quit her job without fulfilling her notice period, and foregoing two months’ salary as a result.
He’d come back and found a ghost-like figure with pensive eyes who sat hours by their comatose father’s bedside instead of his lively, vivacious Pechu.
Nakul had tried to talk to her. He really had. But she paid him no attention. It was as if he didn’t exist for her.
When he’d tried to grab her once and make her listen to him, she’d looked through him. It had brought him down to his knees.
He deserved it, deserved so much more. But it still sucked. He loved her. She was his baby sister.
He couldn’t stand that he had messed everything so much they could not even make civil conversation with each other. He hated it.
“Nothing,” Sophia said now, moving away from the bed.
Nakul stuck his hands in his pockets and watched his sister thoughtfully. She hadn’t lost weight and she wasn’t suffering from lack of sleep or anything. If anything, she was eating right and getting plenty of exercise. But…
Yeah.
Nakul looked at her eyes and saw the numbness there. He’d made that happen.
“Can we talk?” he said again. For the hundredth time.
Sophia shrugged. “Sure. Talk.”
Her eyes were distant. So frozen. She could have been comatose like their father. It hurt him like a one-two punch. Low in his gut. A constant reminder of how badly he had messed up. How much he had hurt his most-favorite person in the world.
“We are winding down the business. The book balancing is taking some time. But I think…it’s time. To end it. I actually have a buyer who is willing to pay five percent over market price.”
She shrugged again. “Cool.”
“I need you to come into the office and sign some papers. You own stock in the company, you know? Not that you ever read any of the quarterlies I sent you.”
“Cool.”
Nakul sighed. Bit off an expletive. “How many times would you like me to apologize, Pechu? How many ways?”
She leveled a look at him. It was all the more punchy for being so quiet. Her sorrow was endless. “Do you remember all the stuff you said? How you called me, your own sister, a whore? You remember that, right?”
“I can’t forget even if I wanted to,” he muttered.
“Do you remember how I begged you…begged you to talk to me? To listen to me. I actually whored myself out and accepted money from him. All so I could keep you happy. All so you’d forgive me. What an idiot I was, right?” She talked calmly. As if they were discussing the weather or dad’s new medication.
Each word landed like a separate blow on him. Nakul winced and winced, then he winced some more.
“I loved you so much, Nakul.” It killed him how she never called him dada anymore. “I picked you over him. There was no contest even. And he knew it,” Sophia said quietly. “Do you know that? He said, ‘I understand.’ As if he could understand how exactly fucked up we both are. You, with your incessant need to be daddy’s knight in shining armor and me enabling you. I should have said to hell with this a long time ago.”
“I know,
” Nakul said.
“You know?” Her voice rose for the first time. Her eyes flashed holy wrath. She was animated, even if it was because she was mad at him. “You know? You know nothing. Not one thing. You’re selfish and entitled and I can’t believe I chose you over Bharat.”
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I should have never had to choose.” Her voice was thick with unshed tears. “I should never have had to defend myself against your prejudices. Your problem with Bharat was yours. It was unreal. He didn’t do anything to dad. He didn’t make dad take the gun and shoot himself. He didn’t give dad the heart attack.”
“I’m sorry, Pechu…” Nakul moved closer to her.
Sophia held up her hand, fending him off. Stopping him in his tracks.
“I didn’t even allow myself to be happy for six years because you weren’t, you know that?” One lonely tear trailed down her cheek. “Because I know. You somehow blamed me. For not being here for dad. Stopping him from pulling that trigger. Stopping all of it from happening.”
Shock shadowed Nakul’s face. His jaw dropped. “Sophia. NO! I never…”
Sophia shook her head. Pushed at her unruly hair in an impatient gesture. She turned back to look at their father. He was so still, he could have been sleeping. But he wasn’t. He was gone. The essence of him was gone.
Just like Bharat was.
“I didn’t allow myself to be happy,” she repeated. “Till Bharat showed up and I was forced to. He took me space diving, you know? It was such a small thing. A small thing that meant so much.”
She aimed accusing eyes at her brother. “I am not blaming you for what happened between me and him. All of that is my fault. I could have done so many things differently and I didn’t. I was scared, too. To be loved like that, that fast…” She shook her head.
“But I do blame you for what went down between you and me. You don’t respect me, dada.” The words were physical as a blow. “I don’t think you ever have. And until you figure out how to, I suggest you keep out of my way. We aren’t brother and sister anymore. You’re just my father’s kid.”
Nakul closed his eyes.
“PECHU,” he said, grasping hold of her wrist when she made to move past him.
And because he had a good ten inches on her and more than fifteen kilos, she wasn’t exactly able to resist him.
“Let go of me,” she said, through clenched teeth.
“You’re my baby sister, my little Pechu and I will always love you,” Nakul said, eyes swimming. “Always. You can never talk to me. You can hold me responsible for anything you want to. I won’t say a word. But don’t you dare…don’t you dare for one second think that I don’t respect you. That you’re not my baby sister. You’re my family. All I have left.”
“I said that to you. In Sydney. I said that. You said, it didn’t matter,” she whispered back as the tears flowed in earnest now.
Nakul put both arms around her and, to his everlasting relief, Sophia didn’t resist. She didn’t hug him back but it was progress and he’d take it.
“I was wrong. I was a jackass and an asshole. I am a kankir pola. I have ego problems and abandonment problems. And I am sorry, Sophia. I am so sorry. I screwed up. Please forgive me.”
She didn’t say yes. It was too early to. She didn’t say anything at all.
Nakul put his neck on her shoulder and closed his eyes and felt hot tears of relief, and regret and terrible guilt spill between them. Eventually, with the beep of the monitors and the whirring of the ceiling fan and her sniffles…her hands came up and held him back.
It was a small thing.
But it meant so much.
~~~~~
Rajeev Kulashreshta died in his sleep three days later.
The neurosurgeon who looked him over could not give a satisfactory explanation as to why. He called it an unintended consequence of several things. His body shutting down, new medication. God’s will.
Sophia and Nakul decided to cremate him in a small ceremony. No friends and family were invited. Truth be told, there was no one to come.
The old Directors of the firm came when the news broke and spoke quietly to Nakul. No one paid any attention to Sophia.
She was okay with that. She didn’t cry a lot. Just a bit, when the coroners came to dress him up and placed him on the gurney.
Nakul was stoic. Supportive. Silent. He made all the arrangements with a quiet calm she didn’t really associate with him. She picked out the funeral picture, a nice one of her father the year before everything had gone to hell. He was laughing in it, sitting at some restaurant somewhere. A glass of something amber in front of him.
The graphic designer had cropped out that part of the picture. Sophia felt weird about it but she let it go.
The cremation didn’t take long. They went to a local cemetery in Gurugram.
Sophia and Nakul rode with their dad. They didn’t speak much. There was nothing to say here. They’d been saying goodbye to him for a long time. In a way…it felt all right.
The ceremony got over soon and then it was another couple hours with the urn containing their father’s ashes. Their small house in Vasant Vihar was empty of people by the time they went back. Kimi maashi was weeping softly as she made dal rice for dinner.
Dinner was a silent affair too. When it was over, and the dishes were cleared. Sophia drifted back to the living room. She wore a raggedy old yellow salwar-kurti, torn in the inside seams. But it was too much effort to want to change.
Nakul put the television on - Cartoon Network. He held a glass of whiskey, Antiquity Blue, as he sprawled on the couch. He was taller than their father. Almost topping six feet, and very much on the lanky side due to lack of sleep and exercise.
She supposed that would change too.
“What’re you watching?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I made you a drink.” He pointed to the worn coffee table where a glass of whiskey waited for her too.
“Okay.” She sat down next to him on the sagging sofa that they had dragged from the Lutyens’ home.
This apartment had two bedrooms, a mid-sized living room and a small kitchen. Nakul had one bedroom and their father had had another. Sophia had been sleeping on the pullout couch for the last month.
She was small so it worked.
Nakul took a sip of the whiskey. It burned smooth as it went down. “Dad hated Antiquity.”
She took her own sip and smiled reminiscently. “Yeah. I know. Chivas was his favorite.”
“I miss him. I miss him so much”
Sophia was silent. Then she laid her head on her brother’s shoulder and he put his arm around her. She curled her feet up and sipped bad whiskey. He placed his feet on the coffee table. And they watched cartoons till they couldn’t watch anymore.
The night didn’t seem so bad because they had each other.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sophia woke up with a crick on her neck.
Nakul was snoring softly, drool collected on the corner of his mouth. She smiled. She loved him. Even when he was a jackass, and he was a jackass most of the time. Maybe she would only make him apologize a million times instead of two.
The TV showed Tom and Jerry chasing each other through the house again.
Sophia yawned as she stretched the kinks out. The windows were streaming bright light. And the wall clock showed that it was past nine am.
Jeez! The pandit was due to arrive in thirty minutes.
She shoved off the couch and shook Nakul. Hard. He grunted and turned to the other side. Awkwardly sprawled on the couch. He was going to wake up aching. Good for him.
“Hey. Sleepyhead,” Sophia said, louder than usual. “Wake up. The pandit is coming in thirty. We have to shower and be ready for him.” For good measure she gave her brother a slight kick in the knees too.
“What?” Nakul mumbled.
“WAKE up.” Sophia poked him hard on the shoulder.
Nakul cursed and woke up.
There was urgent knocking on the door. Pounding actually.
Sophia frowned. Gathered her messy and knotted hair in a braid. “He is early, dada. The pandit is early. Wake up!”
She checked to see if her salwar kurta would pass muster. It would do. She didn’t know where she’d chucked the dupatta when they had come back. It didn’t matter. The guy could deal with her boobs if he felt so inclined.
Then she opened the door.
Bharat stood on the other side.
She slammed the door shut.
~~~~~
Sophia couldn’t breathe. She looked wildly at a stirring Nakul.
“Dada,” she hissed. Her brother did not respond. “Nakul! Bharat is here.”
“What?” Nakul grunted.
Sophia cursed. Loud and creative. “Holy god! Wake up! Bharat is here. On the other side of the door. He is here. What is he doing here, dada?”
Nakul shrugged as he stretched out on the sofa. Felt every single one of the minutes he’d spent sleeping cramped up crawl up and down his bones. “God, I’m an old man,” he muttered.
When Sophia gave him a death glare he continued, “I called Bharat yesterday. Told him dad died. He said he would come. He came.”
Sophia huffed out a breath. “You didn’t tell me you’d called him. That you were talking to him.” A line appeared between her brows. “Why are you talking to him?”
“That’s between him and me. Did you say he was outside? Why didn’t you let him, Pechu?” Nakul demanded as he loped toward the door handle which Sophia still held tightly. He swatted her hand aside and opened it.
She made a kind of squeaking sound and dived to the side.
Bharat strode in, Tall and larger than life. Dressed in crumpled jeans and a tee shirt with a basketball team logo. It had holes in the shoulder. His eyes were a bit wild and his hair was mussed.
She missed him so much she was dizzy with it.
He shook hands with her brother, as if…as if what she didn’t know. The last time these two had been in the same room her brother had tried to kill him. And now he had called him.
What the fuck was going on?
“I’m sorry, man,” Bharat said as he pulled Nakul in a dude embrace. One hand around the shoulder, fists clenched between them, a quick lean in and then pushing back.
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