‘No,’ he agreed, serious this time. ‘You can’t.’
‘It’s getting too difficult.’ Trish couldn’t hide her frustration. ‘I don’t know if I can go on this way.’
‘Well, you know, you sound like you should actually become a counsellor,’ he said. ‘I mean, you know, train properly to be one and then deal with people’s issues individually. You’d be good at that, you know. You love helping people.’
‘I do?’ Trish sounded doubtful.
‘Er. Yeah.’ Sahil raised his eyebrows. ‘You helped me; you’ve been taking care of your dad; you’re helping a friend out and her little daughter; and there are loads of people out there who’ve benefited from your words, I’m sure of it.’ He had a sudden gleam of excitement in his eyes. ‘Hey! I’m telling you, that’s it! That’s your flow thing! I mean …’ He paused, seemingly checking himself now. ‘That is, if you want to, of course.’
‘Well,’ Trish said thoughtfully. ‘I always thought if I were to invest in any form of study, it should be something like an MBA. That’s what seems to be the biggest gap in my resumé.’
‘Oh, come on,’ Sahil rolled his eyes. ‘An MBA? I’ve done an MBA myself. Highly overrated. You’d be wasting your time.’
‘Yeah.’ Trish looked at him with tired eyes. ‘But you’re out of a job because of your own choice. It wasn’t mine to be stuck writing a column I hate. I’m out of options.’
Sahil looked like he was going to say something in response to this, but he appeared to change his mind and just looked at her silently.
The bell rang and Trish stood up. ‘That’s Lisa.’
It was indeed Lisa, with Akanksha. Lisa still looked pale and wan, but Akanksha looked better to Trish. She had even remembered to put a little light lipstick on and looked more like herself than she had in days.
‘Hey,’ Akanksha said to Trish with a small smile and hugged her. ‘Thanks for having her over today.’
‘My pleasure.’ Trish bent down to Lisa. ‘Hey, Leez. What do you feel like doing today?’
Lisa didn’t answer, she just stared at the floor. Trish glanced up at Akanksha, who was now dragging in Lisa’s guitar case. ‘We’ve got her guitar today. Just in case she feels like it.’
Trish wasn’t so sure about this. But before she could say anything, Sahil’s voice rang out from behind Trish, making Akanksha jump: ‘A guitar? Really?’ Lisa looked up to see who this stranger was. He walked up to them and greeted Akanksha quietly. ‘Hi, Akanksha. Sorry for your loss.’
Akanksha nodded with the same little brave smile that Trish had seen her use whenever anyone brought up her father’s death.
Sahil bent down, putting his hands on his knees. ‘This must be Lisa.’ Lisa gave a small nod, not taking her eyes off the floor. He continued, ‘You’re the guitarist?’ After a long pause, there was another tiny nod, barely perceptible.
‘Sahil plays guitar too!’ Trish said brightly. ‘Come in and sit, Akanksha, have a cup of tea.’
‘I’d love to,’ Akanksha said, ‘But I’ve been called in for questioning again. I don’t know why they’re treating me as a suspect. It’s not as if Dad’s left any major inheritance behind or something. It was just an accident, not murder!’ Trish noticed Lisa’s head snapped up with a shocked expression. Trish frowned at Akanksha, indicating the little girl with a tilt of her head. Akanksha said, ‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you, Lisa.’ She squeezed Lisa’s thin shoulders. Trish saw that for once Lisa wasn’t squirming away from Akanksha’s touch.
‘You go on ahead,’ Trish told Akanksha. ‘We’ll take care of her.’
‘Thanks, Trish.’ Akanksha gave her a grateful hug. She gave Sahil a small wave and turned to leave, saying, ‘I’ll be back in a couple of hours.’
They were now alone with stony-faced little Lisa. She walked in past them to the drawing room and they followed her. Lisa sat down on her usual place on the sofa, and proceeded to stare listlessly at her shoes.
‘Okay,’ said Sahil, ‘So I’m going to go and get that guitar.’ And he trotted off down the hall.
Trish was spellbound.
Sahil turned out to be an amazing musician. He had a deep, melodious singing voice and his fingers moved lightly and skillfully over Lisa’s guitar as he sang and played for them. He was very versatile, playing rock, and pop, mostly old songs and even a fabulously haunting instrumental piece that turned out to be his own composition. Trish couldn’t help but think it made him incredibly sexy. This guy was just full of surprises.
To Trish’s delight, Lisa was listening intently too and she seemed to be moved by the music. She had flatly refused to touch the guitar to play anything herself, but now Trish saw that there was a light in her eyes.
‘Uncle,’ Trish was startled to hear Lisa’s voice, small as it was. ‘Can you maybe play that song, “Jamaican farewell”?’
‘Okay.’ Sahil grinned at the request. ‘Can you maybe just call me Sahil?’
Lisa shook her head shyly, which made Sahil laugh. Trish was too surprised to do anything but gape. Lisa was smiling!
Sahil started strumming again. They spent most of the next hour listening to him play. After a while, Ma also came into the room and quietly sat down on a chair in the corner to listen. Her face was withdrawn, but Trish noted that her features relaxed a little as the music went on.
A cool breeze floated in from the windows into the drawing room filled with the sound of Sahil’s music. Trish looked over again and again at Lisa, with the fervent hope that this evening would mark the beginning of her healing.
But now she saw that Lisa had suddenly shrunk back into the sofa, drawing her knees up against her chest. Trish glanced up to see what had startled her and then began to laugh incredulously. Sahil stopped playing and turned to follow her gaze.
‘It’s okay, Lisa.’ Trish reached out to pat Lisa on the arm, still barely able to believe her eyes. ‘It’s only Ba!’
Ba. Who, for almost a whole year, had refused to leave his room except for the times when he had to be rushed to the hospital now stood leaning against the door weakly in his long white kurta-pajama. Ma was out of her chair and beside him in an instant, scolding, ‘Arrey, why didn’t you call me to help? What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Ma, it’s okay,’ Trish called. ‘Ba, you wanted to join us? To hear Sahil play?’ She marvelled at this. Sahil’s playing was magic.
Ba spoke gruffly. ‘None of you were listening to me as usual. I just wanted to tell Sabharwal to stop fooling around with that ukulele of his and come and have a game with me. Rude young fellow, comes and doesn’t even bother to say hello to the man of the house.’
‘Uncle!’ Sahil protested. ‘I fully intended to have a game with you, but Trish said you were sleeping.’
‘Who could sleep with that racket you were making?’ Ba grumbled, but Trish could tell that he didn’t really mean it.
‘Oh come in and sit down with us, Ba.’ Trish indicated the chair next to the sofa. ‘A couple of songs more and we promise Sahil and you can bore us with your chess after that.’
Still grumbling, Ba slowly made his way into the room, brushing aside Ma’s attempts to help him. ‘Leave it, I can walk, you know.’ Somewhat unsteadily he made it to the nearest chair and sat down heavily.
Trish felt ludicrously happy. She looked over at Lisa, who seemed to have calmed down now, her attention back on Sahil as he strummed her guitar lightly again. Lisa hadn’t seen Ba before, so she had just been startled, Trish supposed, but she couldn’t help wondering briefly: why on earth had she looked so scared?
‘Trish, I’ve got to get going now.’
Trish looked up from answering her letters. She was almost done for the day. Lisa was now watching cartoons. Trish was very relieved, the kid was behaving almost normal today.
‘Ba’s asleep?’ Trish asked Sahil.
‘Your mother’s giving him his medicines. He’s tired. I gave him a tough game today. He still won though.’
‘Okay.�
�� Trish smiled gratefully at him. ‘Thanks so much for being around, Sahil.’
‘No problem.’ Sahil smiled back. He went over to Lisa and said, ‘Okay, young lady. I’ll see you another time, all right?’ He held out his hand to her formally. She hesitated for a second and then, with her shy smile, she reached out and took it.
If Trish hadn’t been watching closely, she wouldn’t have noticed the change in Sahil’s expression. He let go of her hand and straightened up, muttering something that sounded like ‘sorry’, and then, louder, ‘Catch you soon, take care of that guitar. It needs constant playing or it’ll get warped and we don’t want that, right?’
His voice was cheerful. Something in it rang false to Trish. He waved and walked out, calling back, ‘I’ll let myself out.’
But Trish was on her feet and following him. ‘Wait, Sahil.’
He was already at the door now, and he turned and hovered. ‘Getting a little late …’
‘What is it?’
Sahil slumped against the door, suddenly looking more tired than she had seen him. He shook his head determinedly. ‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Why not?’ Trish was frustrated.
‘I just can’t, okay?’ Sahil sounded frustrated too. ‘I’m not going to use this stupid thing of mine any more.’
‘Even if you think you could be helping someone else out? A little girl?’ Trish hissed. ‘We’ve been trying to get into her head for the last week, and you just got in there. Now you tell me what you saw.’
‘She’ll be all right,’ Sahil said even though he didn’t sound too convinced. ‘She’s going to be okay.’ He seemed to be in two minds about this. He drew himself up and squared his shoulders. ‘She was better today, right?’
Trish couldn’t deny that. She just nodded stonily. She felt like kicking Sahil for not sharing whatever he knew with her.
‘You know, too, Trish,’ Sahil added. He suddenly leaned in close to her so that his lips were almost touching her ear. ‘There’s so much you know that you just don’t know you know.’
He drew away from her and gave her a significant look. Trish realized that she had been holding her breath. Her heart was beating fast and she tried to calm it down.
‘Fine,’ she said, trying not to sound snappy. ‘Fine. If that’s the way you want it. Play games all you like. If you really think that’s what’s needed right now.’
He said evenly, ‘I’m not supposed to tell you what you can figure out for yourself.’
With that, he gave her a tight smile and his brown eyes flashed at her before he turned around and walked away.
21
Breakdown
‘Where the hell is it?’ Trish shouted into the phone, unable to keep her voice down. She didn’t even know whether Ba was awake or asleep, but she couldn’t help it. This was the limit.
‘Calm down, darling,’ Nivedita’s voice floated into her ear.
‘Don’t you fucking calm-down-darling me. Where. Is. That. Letter?’
‘Language, dear,’ said Nivedita, who herself had the foulest mouth Trish had ever heard.
‘Listen.’ Trish took a deep breath. ‘Try and wrap your little mind around this fact. That guy was on the verge of suicide. I specifically told you that there was no way that we could ignore that letter and that the response should be printed on priority. Do you understand there’s maybe someone’s life at stake here?’
‘Well yes, your suggestion was considered, but at the end of the day, it was an editorial call.’
‘Are you frickin’ nuts?’ Trish’s voice rose again. ‘An editorial call? What if that guy actually does something to himself? Do you people not understand this?’
‘Oh, don’t worry.’ Nivedita was quick to soothe. ‘I checked with the legal team. We have the disclaimer at the bottom of the column with more detailed terms and conditions on the website. There’s no way we would be held responsible even if the guy actually does go ahead and …’
Trish had already hung up. This wasn’t going to be possible on the phone. Much as she hated her, she would have to meet with Zee and explain this to her in person. She picked up her bag and was already on her way out when she almost collided with Ma in the hallway.
‘What is it now?’ Ma said sharply. ‘Who were you fighting with? I hope it wasn’t Sahil.’
Trish couldn’t deal with her mother right now. She didn’t bother to answer, and just sidestepped her and continued towards the door. Ma must have been in an even fouler mood than usual because she growled at Trish’s retreating back, ‘Would be just like you to throw away the only good thing to ever happen to you.’
Trish froze for just a second and then turned around. ‘Ma,’ she said carefully, ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh yes I do!’ cried Ma. ‘For whatever reason, a perfectly nice boy seems to actually like you. And every time I see you, you’re just pushing him away. You seem to think that Ba and I just don’t matter and your decisions won’t affect us.’
Trish struggled to formulate a response. ‘Oh, I see,’ she managed. ‘Well, forgive me for thinking that my personal relationship decisions don’t actually have to centre around other people.’
‘Yes, yes, be sarcastic,’ her mother shot back. ‘Why would we care about you getting married? We are only your parents, after all. We don’t deserve a thought. We don’t long for grandchildren or a man in the house who can take care of all of us.’
Trish was on the verge of losing it. ‘When has your care ever been compromised, Ma? I’ve been there for you, always. But it’ll never be good enough for you, will it? What’s the point of all your pretending to be open-minded and hippie, with your love marriage in the seventies and all, when all you’ve ever wished is that you had a boy and not good-for-nothing me!’
She spat out the words, even though they were more than she had meant to say. She’d had enough put-downs from her mother; all those subtle taunts since forever that suggested that she was not good enough and never would be.
Her mother went white and stood very still, but Trish saw that her small frame was quivering with emotion and anger. When she spoke next through gritted teeth, her voice was deathly quiet. ‘And you say I have no idea what I’m talking about.’
Trish frowned in confusion, but Ma had already turned away. She walked off, her back stiff, still quivering slightly and, for a change, looking every bit her age.
Trish stood staring after her for several seconds and then shook herself out of it. Shoving the exchange to the back of her mind, she hurried out. She couldn’t afford to lose any more time.
‘I need to speak to you, Zee.’
The entire roomful of editors and designers buzzing around Zee stopped in their tracks and gazed at Trish, giving her a strange sense of déjà vu. But she wasn’t going to bother with niceties today.
Zee, on her throne behind the desk, coolly surveyed Trish as if she were an insect. ‘You do not have an appointment. You will have to wait until we finish this.’
She held up a large sheet of paper and eyed it critically. A short balding man standing behind her chair bent low and said in a grovelling manner, ‘Zee, we were just trying something different for the monsoon special edition, so these colours …’
Trish stepped in closer and said in a loud voice, ‘No, Zee. It can’t wait. It’s urgent.’ The balding man froze midsentence and looked at her open-mouthed, seemingly amazed at her audacity. Trish looked around at the shocked expressions of the others in the room. She addressed the crowd. ‘Look, could you all just give us a few minutes, it’s something important.’
The folks looked at each other and a couple of them uncertainly picked up their notepads, but Zee’s voice rang out, freezing everyone cold again, with one imperious word: ‘Stay.’
‘Stay?’ Trish repeated. She couldn’t help it. She looked around at the others. ‘What are you guys, her pets?’ She could see several offended expressions, but knew instinctively that the resentment was directed more at
Zee than at her.
‘You have no right,’ Zee said through gritted teeth, nostrils flaring, ‘to interrupt me like this.’
‘Okay, fine,’ Trish snapped, the remnants of her patience dissipating. ‘You want them to stay and listen? No problem. It’s about that email I sent you yesterday, which you seem to have missed. That letter …’
Zee stood up suddenly and looked around at her team. ‘We will resume in exactly thirty minutes from now.’ For a change, no one snapped to attention. Zee shot wild glances around the room. ‘Well? Leave!’
Then, in a disgruntled manner, they picked up their things and started to leave the room, a lot more slowly and reluctantly than the last time they had cleared off. In spite of herself, Trish had to hide a small smile. It seemed that her standing up to Zee was making the others collectively feel that they didn’t actually need to be treated like animals who could be herded out at the snap of a whip.
Only the small bald guy still looked nervous as he tried to make his way to the front of the dispersing crowd and escape first. Trish waited till the last of them was out and then whirled towards Zee.
‘How could you ignore that letter? Anything could happen to that guy. We owed him a response, and I wrote that in the …’
‘We owe him nothing,’ said Zee cuttingly. ‘And more importantly, you should know that what you just did was unacceptable. Don’t you dare ever try and undermine my position here with a stunt like that.’
‘A stunt?’ Trish laughed but it rang hollow. ‘And, that’s more important, you said? You’re playing with the life of a guy who’s unstable, going through hell and has reached out to our publication for help. He’s desperate. And you choose to ignore him? Why?’
‘Not that I owe you an explanation.’ Zee sounded bored as she turned away from Trish to look into her computer. ‘But since you’re so insistent, let me tell you. I decided that his letter didn’t have merit and wasn’t in line with the direction of the column. And neither was your answer. Keep that sort of soppy sentimental thing up, and you might actually find yourself only cut out for some average friendly neighbourhood agony aunt column.’ She turned to look at Trish, the dislike evident on her face. ‘Now that’s actually not a bad idea. We could then just fire you and be done with it.’
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