by Sana Shetty
“Sorry, got caught up in some work,” he smiled. “So dinner is ready. I tossed up a salad; there is some bread and the curry.”
“Whatever is left of it,” she looked at the small bowl that he had managed to scoop out.
“It should be enough. So where is our guest?”
“Here and I’m famished.” Namita chirped from behind her. She had changed into a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, and looked thirteen all over again.
They had a pleasant dinner. Namita talked about her work and Misha was impressed. From what she gathered, Namita travelled a lot for her work. She told them, she had wanted to visit Tamara ever since she had heard about it from Raunak. Now, being in between jobs had given her the time to do just that.
“So what does Tamara mean?” Namita asked curiously. “It is a very odd name, isn’t it?”
“Land of Spices,” Misha said. “It probably got its name from the various spices that grow here.”
“So that is the main crop here?”
“No, there are the tea gardens. And of course people do grow rice on plainer lands but that is limited to personal consumption. Spices are the main source of income here. People here are pretty laid back and easy going. There is no urgency, the type that exists in the cities. By the time it is six or seven in the evening, all shops and businesses close shutters and people go home, to their families.”
After Raunak left they stayed up for some time, talking. Misha found her companion a very patient listener and it was very easy to open up to her. Soon, she found herself talking about Jay.
“I never in my wildest dreams imagined…..” she stopped, realising she had been talking about Jay for quite some time now.
“Hey,” Namita said softly. “People we love never leave us, you know. They live within us.”
Misha wondered at the sadness in her voice but refrained from asking anything. Instead she smiled and said, “Sorry, I am so wimpy. It is just that, I haven’t talked to anybody in a long time. There is Raunak of course, but…” she shrugged.
Namita bumped her shoulders against her gently. “That is what friends are for and you can count me in as your friend. After all you are the fiancé of my best friend. My shoulder is always available for you to cry on.” Whatever it was that had made her seem sad a moment ago was gone and she was her normal self again. It was hard not to be drawn to this girl and Misha was suddenly glad Raunak had brought her here.
“I think I’ll take that offer,” she grinned. “And now we better go to bed, you must be tired.”
“Yeah, okay. I think that is a fabulous idea. I am beat. Good night.”
A long time after Namita had retired, Misha sat on her bed, leafing through a copy of the Bhagwad Gita. She had found it in Jay room under his pillow and had taken to keeping it in her room though she never actually read it. It was completely in Sanskrit, a language she did not know. Jay had done some scribbling in the margins as if he was making notes and it made her feel closer to him. Sleep eluded her tonight as well but she was reluctant to take that sleeping pill again. Talking to Namita had been nice but it had also brought back painful memories. She looked at the bedside clock. It showed a little after midnight. She put the book down beside the pillow and switched off the lights. The house was completely silent and she could hear the ticking of the clock in her room.
Pain returned with a vengeance and it threatened to split open his head, as Vedant struggled to open his eyes. At first, the room was a blur and he had to blink repeatedly to clear his vision. The pain wasn’t making it easier. He tried to put his hands to his head and realised they were bound behind his back and suddenly he was alert. He was lying on his side, with his hands and legs bound. The familiar musty smell of a closed room assailed his senses and he looked around himself. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realised he was in the storage room just adjacent to the kitchen of the hotel. This had been one of his favourite rooms as a child. All around him, he could barely make out the scraps and antiques from the old castle that had been stored here, from as far back as he could remember. They hadn’t been touched or cleared since ages. His father had been saving most of these treasures for his dream museum. There were other unused things lying around too, like old wood and glass that were leftover from the renovation.
He turned over trying to sit up and his feet bumped against something soft. Struggling, he moved closer to it and found himself looking at another person lying motionless next to him. But it was too dark to tell who it was and the guy’s head was turned away from him.
“Hello??” he whispered. But the other man did not move. Maybe he had been knocked out too. After a long struggle, he managed to sit up and stopped to catch his breath; his head throbbed unbearably. The other man had not moved at all and he tried to prod him with his leg. Still no response. He decided he needed to get rid of his bonds first. He was quite familiar with this room and could have moved around blindfolded but the bound feet and hands were making it difficult to move. He started to drag himself slowly towards the mounds of scraps in one corner of the room. He would be sure to find something there to cut open his bonds. He felt around and sure enough, he found nails and pieces of wood lying around. A nail would do he thought, but it was easier thought than done. He finally managed to pick it up after several attempts and started to rub its sharp edge on the duct tapes around his wrist. It was tedious and he felt as if he had been going on forever, before he felt the tapes give away.
Finally, he was free. Quickly he ripped the tape from his legs and stood up. He had to work fast before someone came to check on him. He carefully made his way back to the other guy and found him still unmoving. He turned him over and stopped in shock. The front of the guy’s shirt was soaked in blood. He peered at the guy’s face and almost cried out. Dinkar! Even before he felt for his pulse, he knew, the other man was dead. Tired and drained, he sank down on the floor, feeling defeated. He knew he had to move but for the moment he could do nothing but stare down at Dinkar’s lifeless body.
“I’m sorry, Dinuanna,” he whispered. “I promise I will get whoever did this to you.”
Pushing himself to his feet, he threw one last glance at Dinkar and crossed the room to where he knew a huge wooden cupboard stood, a little away from the south wall. He prayed it hadn’t been moved. Feeling his way forward, he found it still there. Now he had to get between the cupboard and the wall. It had been easier when they had been little, but now he was a full grown man. He found the gap with his hands and then squeezed his body through the gap. Thank god, he was still lean enough.
He put his hands on the floor, feeling for the lever. When he found it, he tugged at it and lifted it off the floor. That part of the floor opened with a soft ping of metal. He slid into the opening, leg first. When he had slipped in fully and could feel the slight slope of the ground under him, he reached up to slide the metal door shut again. His breathing sounded unnatural in the closed place and his head throbbed where he had been hit. He pushed himself deeper inside, sliding downward on his back and landed on his feet.
The smell of wet mud was strong here. At least he could still stand upright, though not completely. The passage looked a lot smaller than what he remembered as if it had shrunk in size. He stopped to catch his breath. Then dropping down on his knees; started to feel around with his hands. If memory served him right, they used to keep a box of matches here as kids. His hands closed over something furry and warm and he quickly withdrew it as he heard a squeak. Rats!! He hesitated for a bit, contemplating going on ahead in the dark, but that would be slow. He would probably have to feel his way through the passage as it was too dark in here. Besides you never know what you could find in here. It had been too long. He wasn’t even sure the passage was open. What if it had caved in at some point?
He got down on his knees and continued his search, until his hands closed over a small box. He picked it up and taking out a stick, fumbled with it and then dropped it. He removed another and tried
to strike it and to his relief it flared up. He blinked in the sudden glare, looking around him.
The tunnel looked smaller. As children they could easily run through it but now he had to crouch low. As quickly as he could, he made his way through it, hoping all the while his luck would hold. This was the shortest route to the village. The passage had probably been used as a secret gateway in case the castle was under siege and as kids it had been a boon to him and his friends. They could slip away from the palace without anyone knowing about it. Also it had been kind of adventurous to have this little secret between him and his two best friends.
He had been going on for more than twenty minutes when the tunnel opened into a small cave. Someone had covered the mouth of the cave with small thorny bushes and they ripped at his shirt and skin as he pushed his way through. Hah! He was finally out. He stepped out into the wooded area around it and flopped down on the ground, dizzy with the effort. What was he going to do? If he wasn’t mistaken, it was way past midnight. Twenty to thirty metres to his left the path lead into the Varma’s estate. He wondered if he could go there. He couldn’t just walk up to the house and ring the doorbell, in the middle of the night. Misha would be asleep. But then he had nowhere else to go. Of course, he had known some of the guys in the village when he was growing up here but eight years was a really long time. And he needed help. Only Misha and Raunak could help him.
He walked towards the house and stood staring at it in the darkness, wondering what to do. He lightly jumped over the fence and walked towards the back, towards the barn. He would sleep there tonight and hope Misha would give him a chance to talk to her in the morning.
***** Misha tossed about in bed and tried counting sheep several times, then gave up. She sat up in bed and was about to switch on the light when the soft bang of a door, startled her. The intruder was back again. Her heart thudding violently, she made her way down, barefooted and reaching behind the sofa, picked up the shotgun. She contemplated waking Namita but then decided against it. This was her house and she could protect it. Careful not to make any sudden noise she made her way towards the barn in the darkness.
***** Vedant stepped inside the barn and looked around him. It was dark in here. He dared not switch on the lights for fear of alarming Misha. It was quite different from how he remembered it. It looked like Jay had converted it into some sort of a store room. There were stacks of books on one side and some common tools. In one corner, was the old jeep that Jay’s father used to drive, covered in a transparent plastic sheet. He could sleep inside that jeep, he thought moving towards it. He hoped he wouldn’t bang into something and wake Misha up.
He was feeling a little dizzy and nauseous with the constant throbbing in his head and all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. He had his hand still on the plastic sheet, when he felt the cold steel of a gun at the back of his neck.
“Put your hands up slowly and turn around,” the voice was cool. There was no sign of fear. Vedant felt his heart give a lurch and then race as he recognised it.
He put his hands up and slowly turned around. In the darkness, he could barely make out her silhouette as she took a few steps back and switched on the light. He brought his hands up to shield his eyes, trying to block out the sudden light. When he lowered his hands, he saw her eyes widen in recognition and heard her sharp intake of breath.
“You!! How did you….?” She gasped.
“Hey Misha,” he greeted softly.
She did not say anything but lowered the shotgun, staring at him
as if he was a ghost. He was about to take a step towards her, when another sharp voice jolted him. “Hey! You keep your hands in the air and don’t come any closer.” He turned around to see a petite girl, standing a few feet from him, a long stick in her hand, ready to use. The sight was so comical that he would have laughed under any other circumstances. But right now he was facing two women, one with a gun and another with a stick and his head was throbbing so much he was sure his brain would pop out any moment.
“It’s alright Namita, I know him,” Misha whispered, still looking a little stunned.
“Is he your friend?” the girl, she had called Namita, was looking him up and down, like she was examining a very interesting species. He was not surprised. He must look like an urchin to her, with his bloody clothes and muddy shoes. She was staring at the blood on the front of his shirt, “Are you hurt? You are bleeding.”
Vedant did not answer her, keeping his eyes on Misha, taking in the way her hands were gripping the rifle and the coldness in her eyes. At the moment, he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t use it. Her face though was an emotionless mask but he knew her too well. The anger was simmering just below the surface.
“I think we should go to the house,” she said a little stiffly.
They walked in silence towards the back of the house and into the kitchen. There, Misha flicked on the light and gestured for him to be seated on one of the wooden chairs. The familiarity of his surrounding suddenly overwhelmed him and he sat down a little too quickly. He had spent so many days of his growing years here, with Jay and Misha. This to him, had been his second home, always welcome and safe.
Misha had gone out and now came back into the room carrying a first aid kit. Looking into her face though, there was none of the welcome there. Did he blame her? Namita had heated some water and was soaking a fresh towel in it. The tension in the room was palpable enough that even Namita sensed it, as she looked from Misha’s shuttered face to his.
“So you want to tell us what happened,” she asked and he guessed she was trying to break the silence that was getting more and more uncomfortable.
Vedant wondered who she was. He knew most of Misha and Jay’s friends and cousins and he was sure he had never seen her before. She was definitely not from the village.
When he did not say anything, she shrugged and continued, “You don’t have to tell us, if you don’t want to.”
“I..I…” he began and glanced at Misha’s face. She was busy concentrating on unfolding and cutting the bandages, ignoring him. He desperately wanted her to say something, be angry, perhaps. But her face showed no emotion. They had had the easiest of friendship and had been able to talk to each other about anything in the world and yet here he was in her kitchen and she was treating him like a stranger.
He cleared his throat and began again, “Dinkar…Dinuanna is dead. Someone attacked me too and …I…well…I escaped and fled the hotel. I didn’t know where else to go…” He said feeling a little defeated.
His words had caught Misha’s attention though. He saw her stop what she was doing and stare at him, her eyes large in her face.
“Who is Dinkar? And how did you end up in the barn? Why not come to the house?” Namita asked with a puzzled frown on her face. She had started to clean his wound with the hot towel and he winced.
“Dinkar is dead….?” Misha whispered.
“He is….”
Misha and he spoke together and both stopped, staring at each other.
Vedant started again and recounted what had happened earlier that night at the hotel and his subsequent escape.
“Wow a tunnel?!!” Namita gave him a look of amazement. He guessed that to any outsider, the story would be a little too amazing.
“Yeah, there is a secret tunnel that runs from the castle into the woods a few metres from here. I was afraid it would have been buried under after being unused for so long, but …”
“But my foolish brother wanted to make sure his best friend would be able to find his way back here. So for years, he made sure that he dug out the mud and kept it open,” Misha’s voice cut him short sharply. There it was. The anger. The hurt. He could see angry tears in her eyes.
They stared at each other for a very long time. “The poor fool never realised, his friend had deserted him and he died waiting for him to come back,” she ground out bitterly, flinging the bandages down on the table and turning on her heels.
“Misha…, wait! Let me
explain…,” Vedant began but she had stormed out of the room and run up the stairs. Without giving him a backward glance, she slammed the door to her room, hard. He had known she would be hurt and angry at his perceived betrayal. Yet it shook him to the core to see her like that.
“Well, looks like you two have some history,” He turned around to find Namita watching him.
Vedant ran a hand across his face and through his curls. His head throbbed and he felt drained, emotionally and physically.
“Don’t worry, she will be okay. She is a bit emotional at the moment; after all she has just lost her brother. Come, let’s finish patching you,” Namita led him back into the kitchen.
“I have never seen you here before. Are you a friend or a relative of Misha’s?” he asked, following her back into the kitchen. He sat down on the chair and she started to clean his wounds again.
“Neither, actually. I am Raunak’s friend from his college days and Misha was kind enough to let me stay here for a few days. My name is Namita Patil.”
“I’m Vedant Birajdar.”
“Ah, yes!” she said as if that explained a lot. “You are Jay’s best friend.”
Vedant looked down at his feet. His shoes were caked with mud from his excursion in that tunnel and through the woods, “You could say. Although…I doubt I have been a good friend, leave alone being the best friend.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have your reasons. This is one nasty gash, you know,” she was peering at his wound. “I think you will need some stiches for that.”
When she had finished covering it, she brought him a glass of water. As he drank it thirstily, she asked, “Are you hungry? I think there was some leftover from our dinner and I’m sure Misha wouldn’t mind.”
“No, I am good, just want to sleep. I have a really bad headache.”
Namita searched the first aid kit and found some pills. “I am not surprised looking at that cut. Here take this. I guess you can sleep out on the couch. You will feel better in the morning. And I think you should get that wound checked by a doctor. You don’t want it to get infected.”