by Isha Inamdar
The trio reached the morgue and for a moment they were repulsed by the sordid stench of the decaying bodies. An attendant sat at the counter in one corner of the room. He looked bored and disinterested, as if he couldn’t wait to finish up with the next dead person so that he could go home.
With heavy footsteps, they reached the attendant. He seemed to recognize Harsh, but he didn’t get up and show them the dead body for identification. He waited till Rudra and Sam had repeated the complete story along with Harsh’s narration of last night.
‘So now what do you want?’ he asked at the end of it.
There was a long pause. The silence of the room made their blood as cold as the frigid air that crept through the AC vents. What was it that they wanted? Certainly not this.
‘We would like to look at the body,’ said Sam, after what seemed like minutes of gnawing silence.
‘That girl’s body was disposed of this morning,’ he replied after checking his register.
Disposed of. Not cremated but disposed of as if it was a piece of unwanted rubbish. Disposed of with no last rites or rituals or respect.
‘But I was here just yesterday and you said…’ started Harsh.
‘Yes, and you left it here again. Unclaimed.’ Realizing he had been unnecessarily harsh, he softened and continued, ‘I am sorry for your loss. However, a court order was released last week after an incident at a hospital in town. The police weren’t disposing the unclaimed bodies and something went wrong with the morgue’s air-conditioning. The stench of the bodies led to a lot of trouble for residents of the surrounding buildings. Well, to cut a long story short, they came by today morning to clear all the pending bodies on their books.’
Sam glared at Harsh, blaming him for the situation. Had he shown some nerve or common sense last night!
‘Sir, could you please look at this photo and tell us if this was the same girl you had in here?’ asked Rudra.
Rudra had now surrendered his fate to God. He now waited to hear the judgement that had been passed.
‘Sure,’ said the attendant kindly, looking at Rudra. It was evident that Rudra was suffering a great deal.
After he’d stared at the photo for a few moments, he said, ‘Yes, this does look like the same girl. But her hair was longer, I think.’
Rudra stiffened hearing those words. Anjana was dead. She was gone. It was over. He had killed the love of his life with his cruel words. Harsh hugged Sam and dissolved into tears. Sam tried to help Harsh, but he was too lost in his own pain to console anyone else. Two men entered the morgue and the attendant excused himself to attend to them.
Rudra walked out feeling devastated. He had thought that he knew what love was. He had thought he knew what it was to be in love, and to rise in love. But with Anjana, it had been on a higher plane. His love for her had elated him – she had elated him. And she was gone. The happiness in his life was gone. He was probably the reason why she was where she was. He felt dead from within.
Oh Anjana, I am sorry. Why did you not give me a chance to find out the truth? Why didn’t you try to reach out to me? Why didn’t you talk to Harsh and ask him to clear the air? Why, Anjana, why? Why did you have to leave me to live without you?
The world was closing in on him. Rudra tried to focus, but darkness was engulfing him. He was giddy and it was hard to concentrate. He tried to blink and stay awake. But the light was fading away. ‘Anjana,’ he choked on the word, willing his deadened legs to continue to hold him.
He shivered, though he wasn’t cold. He hoped that he was dying. Waves of pain lapped at him pulling him under. His last thought as he slumped onto the floor was of Anjana and her smiling, peaceful face.
The End of the World
25 November, 2010
It had been a week since he had fallen unconscious outside the hospital. Needless to say, Rudra had been rushed into the hospital by Sam and Harsh and before he was awake, Dhruv and Kaavya had been informed as well.
Luckily for him, the doctors had let him go home the next day with a prescription of anti-stress drugs and medication to help him sleep. He had been asked to meet a psychiatrist if required. ‘Talking about it will help,’ a doctor had advised.
Well, he didn’t need to talk. All he needed was to be left to himself, alone – the way Anjana had left him and gone. He had taken the next flight out of Mumbai and returned home the next day. And against all his requests, Kaavya had followed him to Phalodi.
Fortunately for him, Kaavya had handled all the questions his mother had with regards to the sudden love triangle that had been formed. Sam had tutored Kaavya with the story to be given back home and she had successfully parroted it – the story being that Harsh and NJ had mistaken their friendship for love, realized their folly a little too late and called it off on the wedding day. Rudra who had never been great at understanding feelings, sentiments or emotions, hadn’t realized that he’d had feelings for her until he had heard about her death. Both the brothers, for whom NJ had been a special person, had taken the news pretty bad. However, Harsh had at least opened up and cried his eyes out and was recovering, whereas Rudra had shut himself up and wasn’t allowing himself to feel or show grief.
Kaavya waited in hope that she would be there for him when he would finally let himself crumple, shed tears or break down. But he did none of those things. Instead, he went on with his life. She knew he thought that he was fooling them successfully, but he wasn’t. They could see through him. And that worried them some more.
Every night, he’d sit in Anjana’s terrace in a silence that was poison to him. Every time Kaavya would try to get him to talk to her, all she would get were monosyllabic replies. She engaged him in conversations, but in the void of sound, the shallowness of their conversations would be laid bare.
At times, he’d catch Kaavya staring at him. It felt like she thought he was a time bomb which could go off any time. It was annoying, but he didn’t say anything to her. He knew she meant well.
He had already affected one life by speaking thoughtlessly. Hell, he had gotten Anjana killed. And though Kaavya kept reminding him that he couldn’t have possibly known about the act Harsh and she had been pulling, that he wasn’t responsible for Anjana’s death, he knew better. He was responsible. And he was guilty.
But to Kaavya, he showed the face of a man hurt, but trying to move on. He made her believe that he, the survivor, would be all right. He tried to make her think that he wasn’t completely shattered. That even though he was hurt, this wasn’t the end of the world. It was the end of the world, but she needn’t know that. Nobody needed to know that.
December
There was a fathomless void inside Rudra. He waited to feel something. He didn’t feel loss or pain or anger, and neither did he have a need to scream. He was a mess, but he didn’t feel it. He felt nothing. Nothing felt real or whole. Nothing.
At times, he tried to bury himself under the weight of his dark clouds, trying to deal with them. However, his thoughts would end up becoming unbearable and he could no longer deal with them. And he didn’t want to. He didn’t understand. He just wanted it all to end.
Time rushed by – long days changing into an even longer nights. However, Rudra remained stuck in his own limbo.
January
February
Living, Breathing, Waiting
14 March, 2011
‘Do you know what date it is, beta?’ Maa asked as she sat on the armchair next to Rudra on his terrace.
Rudra had been sitting on the terrace since someone had served him his afternoon cup of tea. It came as a surprise to him that it was already night. He had tried to get accustomed to the fact that time usually passed faster than he was aware of. It was hours since he’d sat there with his tea, but he seldom was aware of it.
‘No, Maa,’ he replied, hoping that he hadn’t already missed half of the conversation. He hadn’t even been aware they were having one.
‘It’s my birthday today,’ she said with a smile tha
t didn’t reach her eyes.
‘Oh Maa, I am so sorry!’ he said as he got up to hug her. ‘Happy birthday, Maa.’
‘Did Kaavya not remind you this year?’ she asked.
‘Uh? You knew?’ he asked, surprised that their mother had known about Kaavya reminding him.
‘Yes, beta – you are my son,’ she said, as if that explained everything.
‘Ah … I’m sorry for never having remembered your birthday,’ he said with a smile, hoping that she would know he meant it sincerely.
‘I have waited for months, waited in the hope that you will get better, forgive yourself – move on,’ she stated. ‘It’s been four months since. And you are still moping.’
Moping? He wasn’t moping. He had, in fact, put in a lot of effort to ensure he behaved normally. He had tried to never give Maa a chance to complain. He hadn’t wanted her to know; he hadn’t wanted to hurt her.
‘I am not moping, Maa,’ he retaliated against the accusation.
‘Yes, you are right. You are not moping. Even moping would be doing something, feeling something. You are doing nothing. You are trying to act normal, and I can see it. But you are doing nothing, feeling nothing. And I can see that too.’
Rudra was stumped. He had tried hard to make his mother believe that nothing was wrong. And all along his mother had been able to see through his farce? ‘I am sorry, Maa,’ he apologized. ‘I’ll try harder.’
‘I am not saying you are not trying, beta,’ she said softening her approach. ‘I have seen you try these past months. But all you are doing is trying to make me believe that you are moving on.’
Rudra let out a long sigh and resigned himself. He couldn’t fool his mother.
‘What are you waiting for son?’ she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, ‘She isn’t coming back. You need to accept that and move on.’
Rudra nodded, for too long perhaps. He knew he should move on. He just didn’t want to. Anjana had died because of him. How could he move on? And what was there to move on to? How could he move on from something his subconscious couldn’t even begin to comprehend – something too painful to accept with a constant spectre of guilt lurking outside his mind’s door?
‘Every year, you have given me a birthday gift. Each year you have outdone your own gifts. This year I want the best gift of them all. I want my son back. My son who enjoyed life, not the one who merely exists,’ she said.
Rudra looked up to his mother’s face and saw concern crease all over her face. Somehow his mother had aged in these past months. She definitely looked older. There were hints of dark circles under her eyes and the contours of her cheeks had changed. He felt guilty again. His mother had probably been fretting over him for the past few months. And he had been so caught up in his misery that he hadn’t paid her any attention.
He lowered his gaze, unable to look at her any more. She tilted her head to catch his downward stare. With a relenting sigh, he conjured up a weak smile. I am stronger than this, I am stronger than this, he chanted in his head.
Cupping his mother’s face in his hands he said, ‘Happy birthday again, Maa,’ and kissed her forehead. She hugged him back, feeling better. He let her hold him, feeling a heavy weight being lifted off him.
Bleak Moments
7 November, 2011
‘Happy Anniversary, sis,’ Harsh’s voice boomed into the phone.
Kaavya couldn’t stop smiling. It had been a year since she’d married D! One year of pure bliss. She had married him thinking that she was in love with the man. What she hadn’t known was that Dhruv would make her fall for him again and again.
‘So what is the plan for the day?’ he asked excitedly.
‘I don’t know!’ she squealed. ‘He told me last night he is going to take me away somewhere!’
‘How’s Sam?’ she asked.
‘You don’t have to be formal with me, sis! Go enjoy your day!’ Harsh said, his smile evident in his voice. ‘We’ll play catch-up tomorrow when you tell me all about your dinner!’
‘Okie,’ she cheerfully replied and was met with utter silence.
She waited for a brief moment, wondering if the connection had been lost. ‘Harsh, you there?’
‘Uh huh. You carry on … I’ll call you tomorrow,’ came his disconnected reply.
‘What is it, Harsh?’ Kaavya asked exasperatedly. She didn’t know when her brothers would grow up and realize that the tone of their voices told her much more than their words ever did.
‘I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow, I swear,’ he said, trying to placate her.
‘And leave me hanging until then? Do you want to spoil my evening?’ Kaavya asked, knowing that this would crack Harsh.
‘Err … no, no … actually … I was thinking … actually Sam suggested … we were both just talking about NJ and…’ his voice trailed away.
Kaavya waited for him to go on. After a long pause, he said, ‘We were thinking of holding a pooja – like a barsi – for NJ.’
‘When?’ Kaavya asked.
‘On the eleventh.’
‘Have you discussed it with Bhaiyya?’ Kaavya asked.
‘Why should I?’ Harsh said defensively. ‘He hasn’t answered any of my calls in months or replied to my texts. I had even tried calling Maa in the hope that he would have to speak to me then. But every time he said he was busy and would call back, but he never did. I can’t call Maa again and again either. Last time I had done, she questioned me, wanting to know whether everything was all right between us. Worst is, for some reason, she thinks I am the angry one and was trying to make me let go! I told her there was nothing wrong between her sons and that she need not worry one bit. Now tell me, what the fuck should I do?’
‘But Harsh—’ Kaavya started.
‘But what, Kaavya?’ Harsh cut in. ‘NJ was my friend too. I lost her too. Bhaiyya spent just a week with her. And suddenly his sorrow is greater than mine because of my lies? That’s bull-fucking-shit.’
‘Harsh—’ she began sternly but faltered against his rage. He wasn’t wrong. She knew Harsh longed to talk to Rudra and Rudra’s cold behaviour was hurting him. Even she longed for them to talk it out. She had had long one-sided conversations with Rudra about it. But all she would get out of him were monosyllabic replies and promises to ‘think about it’.
‘Should I?’ she asked, timidly.
‘Sure,’ said Harsh and hung up.
Kaavya had a feeling that Harsh had trapped her. He had probably called her with the intention of getting her to call Rudra and she’d herself offered to do it! Why was it that she always realized these things once it was too late?
Grudgingly, she dialled Rudra’s number.
Barsi
11 November, 2011
Rudra walked into Harsh’s home for the barsi. He remembered his last visit to the apartment when they had been looking for Anjana. Back then, he had hope – hope that they would find her, hope that she would forgive him, hope that he had a chance at a happy life with her. Today, all he had was pain.
He didn’t know why he had even agreed to come. He had decided to never set foot in this place again. Also, there was the fact that he didn’t want to see or talk to Harsh. But even though things were difficult between Harsh and him, he couldn’t have missed it. It was a pooja for Anjana’s departed soul, a prayer to alleviate her sufferings.
‘It doesn’t have to be like this,’ Kaavya’s words rang in his head. And he knew it was true. He thought about Harsh nearly every single day. There had been times when he had promised to himself that he would call Harsh and apologize to him. He hadn’t meant to single Harsh out or blame it all on him. It had just been easier in the beginning to be able blame someone. And now, he couldn’t begin to face his little brother.
I am sorry, Harsh. I do not want to lose you. I can never want that. It just hurts too much. And I am unable to cope with it. Please give me a little more time. I am truly sorry.
He sat at the back while Sam and Harsh
conducted the pooja, following the instructions of the pandit. They had kept it a low-key affair and there were only eight people apart from Kaavya and Dhruv in the house.
Rudra knew Kaavya would want to talk after the rituals had been completed. She had known he had flown into the city yesterday and had asked him to come over. When he had informed her that he was already booked into a hotel, she had sounded upset. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, all he’d wanted was to avoid any conversations about anything all. All he wanted was to be left alone.
As soon as the pandit announced the end of the pooja, Rudra jumped off his seat and exited silently before anybody could stop him. It had taken Kaavya all of five minutes to figure out that Rudra was gone.
This time, she decided to leave him alone.
Ibiza
8 September, 2013
Sam entered Space, the club that was largely responsible for Ibiza’s party hub reputation. It was just half past seven in the evening and he had three solid hours of schmoozing in the sunshine before his flight back to Mumbai.
His client, Mr Beale, was in love with him – metaphorically at least. Mr Beale had brought him to Space promising to show the most amazing club on the planet. Sunday parties at Space were supposedly the best – this one certainly was! Even though the club had a partial roof, you could hear the thunder of airplane engines as the sun’s rays exploded onto the dance floor. Space had the best ambience, complete with UV lights, coloured rocks and the best music systems that boomed the best music!
Sam was tired and he had no idea what the others were talking about. He accepted the drink Mr Beale offered and continued to smile at everything that was being said at the table. He had travelled for an event to Mauritius before arriving in Ibiza for the Beale event. Since Harsh was busy holding the fort in Mumbai, they had been away from each other for more than twelve days. He just wanted to reach home and sleep in with Harsh. On second thoughts, he decided he might do a bit of sleeping with him before sleeping in. Twelve days of longing … he couldn’t wait to get home.