Fear Is the Key

by Juggi Bhasin

  He again slunk away in his self-made cave of silence and introspection. She made no attempt to draw him out. She waited for him to open up. He sat there looking at the shuttered window. Once again, he was curious to see what lay beyond it. He got up and lifted one of the slats and looked out. The afternoon winter sun had lost its brightness. The frigidness of the evening was setting in. The air looked hazy as the smog eclipsed the ruddy complexion of the sky outside. Rahul closed the slat and came back to his chair.

  ‘I want to talk about Simone but a little later.’

  ‘That’s fine with me. What shall we talk about today?’

  ‘I want to talk about Fredo, Usman and Dubey.’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘I have been proved correct in my suspicions about them. They are deviant, scheming . . . not normal people. One of them, or perhaps all three, are involved in Simone’s disappearance.’

  ‘Define normal for me.’

  ‘What? What do you mean? Not normal is abnormal . . . these guys are abnormal . . . they lead bizarre lives. Their behaviour with Simone bordered on the criminal . . .’

  ‘So you say?’

  ‘Why do you not believe me?’

  ‘I thought we were here to discuss you.’

  ‘Well, I want to discuss them.’

  ‘They are not my clients, you are.’

  ‘So we can never discuss others?’

  ‘I never said that. I, however, feel we are leapfrogging the issue at hand.’

  ‘What is the issue at hand?’

  ‘It is the state of being normal.’

  ‘Whose normality? Mine, you mean? You think I am abnormal? The rest are innocent?’

  Tanya smiled and kept quiet to break the momentum of their verbal volleying that was leading nowhere. She then told him, ‘Let’s try and approach this from a different end. What defines normal, Rahul? Where did you pick up your sense of normality? Did you read about it in a book? Or do you understand normality by the kind of lives your parents led?’

  ‘Don’t go there, Tanya . . .’

  ‘Why not? We have discussed your parents, haven’t we?’

  ‘I think you are mixing up issues.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Yes . . . the issue at hand is the deviant three. They are the cause of this entire problem. I need clarity on how to deal with them.’

  ‘You have suddenly put your parents in a protective silo. What could be the reason for doing that?’

  ‘Don’t go there, Tanya . . .’

  ‘Are you telling me, or are you warning me?’

  He got up suddenly, trembling on his feet, fists shaking, eyes a fiery red. He rushed to the shuttered window and opened it with extreme force. The window opened with an explosive sound that made Tanya jump in her chair. His back turned to her, he began to shout.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes . . . I have put them in a fucking chamber in my mind where no one can reach them or look at them. Know why? Because my mother was a slut, and I could never shut my eyes to it though all my life I pretended to!

  ‘My father was a low-brow clerk who could never stand up to her. He foolishly spent his life trying to get me into IIT. My admission to IIT was his way of seeking a respectful face and place for himself. He knew it, and I knew it, that everyone laughed behind his back. At the end of the day, for all his caring and discipline, he was an insignificant, inferior, self-effacing, wimp of a little man. I would cringe when he would drop me to school. How I would wish that my classmates wouldn’t see me with him so they would not laugh behind my back.’

  ‘Should I go ahead and make your day by telling you, Tanya, that your suspicions about me were correct after all? Should I tell you that I hated both of them, for what they stood for and what they consciously and subconsciously did to me? Is that it, Tanya? Your breakthrough moment! I had a messed-up childhood, and I have been in denial all this while . . .’

  ‘I take no pleasure in agonizing you further than you already are, Rahul.’

  He turned to look at her, and he was shivering and crying at the same time. ‘Then why are you scratching and scraping at dead wood, Tanya? You can peel this layer off, but there is only dead bark underneath it. All life form died long ago. I have no desire to bring that memory back. Know this, Tanya. We all have different ways of covering up our painful past.’

  ‘Rahul, you can cover up for any length of time, but the past eventually catches up with us. My objective is not to take the skin off your wounds but to heal them. I want you to understand the term “normal”. I have seen clients wasting their entire lives over what they perceived to be abnormal. In today’s day and age, we define normality with a scale of how abnormal we all are. I promise you, we are all abnormal to some degree. You look at the average Joe in the city. When we leave our homes in the morning, know this, we carry a lot of rage, violence, insecurity, sexual frustration and a general air of dissatisfaction in our hearts. What we choose to do with these emotions by the time we come back from work in the evening defines our state of normality. It’s now a day-to-day thing. There are good days and bad days.’

  She continued. ‘You need to let go of all this and focus on healing your mind. You are not the custodian of your parents’ warped lives. Don’t link your childhood trauma with the perversions of three people who have no bearing on your life. Give up your investigation and turn over whatever you have unearthed to the police. You need to come to terms with Simone’s disappearance not so much in an investigative way but to resolve your feelings about her.’

  Rahul suddenly got up and walked to the sofa at the far end of the room. He took off his shoes and socks and lay on it. Tanya watched him in amazement as his face softened and his eyes dulled as if he was in deep sleep. He began talking about Simone as if he was half asleep.

  ‘Simone . . . yeah Simone . . . let’s talk about her. Should I start at the beginning? The first time I saw her I felt this strange pull towards her. At first, our relationship was strictly professional. Suhel and I started Yummimages from a hired basement in Kalkaji. We were looking for a creative head, and we had spread the word among our peers and seniors at IIT. One day, a girl in shorts, rubber sandals and an open-necked shirt, with the shirt end tied into a knot that bared her midriff, walked into our basement without an appointment. Suhel was not impressed, but I knew instantly that she had it in her. I still remember what she had said to me then. “You can stop looking around. I am what you need. You guys can’t afford me, so I will settle for equity in your start-up. I work hard, I party even harder, and I embellish the word sociable. That’s my Yin, but my Yang is that I don’t allow people to fuck around with my work. I guard my domain like an evil, vengeful witch. If you want my genius for hire, these are my terms. Game for it?’

  The three of us, like new-age pioneers, set out to discover a new world. We worked from the basement, existing on pizzas and caffeine and long working hours. Simone drew up a blueprint for the content, the kind this country had never seen before. I brought in both angel and demon investors for our start-up, and Suhel put in place hardware, software and manpower. Within weeks, we were up and running, scoring massive hits, making a name for ourselves.

  That was a unique period in my life, in all our lives. I don’t have the words to describe that feeling when you know you are on the cusp of greatness, on the verge of ushering in something new that no one has seen or heard of, or experienced before. Each day would bring in some success or short-term failure. We were on a treadmill that refused to slow down. The long working hours, the sheer intensity of our lives; well, the inevitable was waiting to happen.

  One day, close to three at night, after a hard day’s work when everyone had left the basement, Simone pulled me into a corner. She yanked off my shirt and climbed on top of me. I was inexperienced, unsure. I had never been with a girl before, well, not completely. Simone took charge of me. She showed me how to do it. After she had climbed off me, I felt as if I had shrugged off the childhood demon monkey riding on my bac
k. I felt this incredible lightness of being . . .’ Rahul became silent, and with wide eyes, he stared at the ceiling.

  He then spoke again, picking up the thread from where he had left off.

  ‘Can I tell you a secret, Tanya? Failure rides invisible on the wings of success. We never see it until it is too late. We had tasted so much success in such a short period of time that we forgot that failure had walked through the door, unannounced, determined to spread havoc. The first of the cracks appeared between me and Simone. We fought over policy, work and especially the future course Yummimages would take. We were beginning to question the fundamentals of our relationship. It was not some big-ticket item that was driving us apart. I think it was a train of small irritants that had set off from somewhere.

  ‘At the other end, Suhel and Simone could not agree on anything. Things soon began to drift and derail. The world was no longer simple, to be conquered and enjoyed with a pioneering spirit. Everything around us was becoming more complex and uncertain. We muddled through this period, tired, angry, hurt. We were on the verge of breaking up when, one day, we went back to the basement to see if there was anything in there we had left behind. It was abandoned, derelict. I am not a creative person and I don’t have the words to describe what we found there. Whatever it was, it helped to arrest the slide in our relationship. And then soon after that she disappeared at the party.’

  Rahul lay on his back, silent now. Tanya pulled up a chair and sat next to him. She asked him.

  ‘You were a couple when she disappeared?’

  ‘Yes, we were. We were finding our feet again in the relationship. We had made up our minds to announce our engagement at the party. Yeah . . . maybe we were rushing things. Maybe it was too early for all that. We were confused, but we were clear that we did not want to lose each other.’

  ‘Confused? What were you confused about?’

  ‘You lead a life . . . and you lead another one below the surface . . .’

  ‘You are talking about Simone or yourself?’

  ‘Probably both of us.’

  ‘What is this life you led below the surface?’

  ‘It was not a different life in the physical sense of the word. I was still the same guy. I was still doing the same things. But the change was like . . . like . . . an optical illusion. It was like looking at a bright, sunny day. And the next moment it becomes dark, mysterious and unpredictable.’

  ‘Your behaviour became unpredictable?’

  ‘No. As I told you, I was doing the same things. But I had begun to feel confused and fearful of things.’

  ‘Is that confusion settled now?’

  Rahul fell silent.

  Tanya gently prodded him. ‘What was confusing back then, Rahul?’

  And once again, without warning, Rahul’s mood changed. He began to shout at the top of his voice. His eyes blazed with unchecked anger. ‘Back then? What kind of a shrink are you? Do you divide human experience into what happened then, what’s happening now and what fucking will happen in the future? Do you?’

  Tanya, stunned by his about-turn, quietly said, ‘Calm down, Rahul. I am not the enemy. I am just . . .’

  ‘Confused . . . right? I am also confused, Tanya,’ he said, gradually calming down. ‘I am confused even today. Who the hell was Simone? I am confused about what she was doing hanging out with lowlifes Fredo, Usman and Dubey. I am confused as to whether she fucked Usman or not. She certainly kissed him. I am confused about why she did not report Usman to the police or tell me about him when he tried to rape her. There is no neat block of the past tucked away. It’s one fucking, big, confusing mess. And it haunts me till this day.’

  He got up from the sofa, more in control of his feelings. He put on his socks and shoes and looked at her inquiringly.

  ‘I have made an idiot of myself today, have I not?’

  She was quick to answer. ‘No, not at all. Today, you were in touch with so many different feelings. I have always believed that people are not the sum of only one kind of feeling. We experience so many emotions every hour, every day of our lives.’

  Tanya let go of her calm, in-control look and sounded genuinely empathetic. ‘I should apologize, Rahul. Maybe I have been a little tough on you. It does appear that you have uncovered facts of great importance in your personal investigation. I should have been more sensitive to what you have been feeling and your mood swings. In that spirit, let me ask you again. I understand you are confused about Simone. What are you really fearful about?’

  Rahul stared long and hard at Tanya before replying. ‘I have told you about my auditory and sensory hallucinations, as you put it. You explained to me the earlier hallucinations were probably linked to my childhood, my mother, her work, etc. Those hallucinations rattled me, but I was never fearful of them. However, the recent ones, where I see a huge column of light opening up and pulling me towards it, scare the hell out of me. I feel I will lose all sense of control. What is it, Tanya? Am I going mad?’

  He broke down after voicing his deepest fears. She held his hand and pressed it firmly. She allowed him some time to recover.

  ‘Look into my eyes, Rahul. Let me tell you firmly that you are not going mad.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No,’ she reiterated. ‘You could be going through what I would call a period of self-awareness.’

  He let out an audible sigh, ‘It’s a relief to know that.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘No, you don’t. You just convinced me to go ahead with my plan.’

  ‘What plan?’

  ‘All these three bastards, besides being sexual deviants, are also hard-pressed for money. I am going to lure them into my apartment, promising a financial gift the likes of which they would not be able to resist. I will set things up in a way that I confront them with what they did to Simone.’

  Tanya could not believe her ears when she heard his plan. ‘But this is crazy, Rahul! This is so dangerous! Anything could happen in such a confrontation! You have to stop this madness . . .’

  Rahul got up laughing. He walked to the window and opened it. He felt the chilly wind on his face. He turned and looked at her, his eyes animated with excitement. ‘Madness? But you just said I am completely sane. You empowered me. This is the way the curtain will be drawn on stage. This is the way the story will end.’

  CHAPTER 32

  ‘Fredo, you are kinky, but you are a good kid. You have an eye for detail that is popular in our industry. You deserve another chance. I have an investor coming home for dinner tonight. He invests in talented boys like you. A couple of other like-minded friends will also be there. Drop in at 8 p.m. for drinks and dinner. And do bring your complete work portfolio, especially the pictures of that office woman. See you then (address attached).’

  ‘Usman Bhai, it was a strange night when I met you last. Let’s put it behind us. Meet me this evening at 8 for drinks and dinner, my place (address attached). I want you to meet someone who will invest in my new business. And yes, you will be a part of it. I believe in you.’

  ‘Hello, Janki. I wanted to bring you into the loop. I want Dubey to meet an investor and other friends tonight over drinks and dinner at my place (address attached). Both of you will be a part of my new venture. Hard to forget the time I spent at your house the other day. Hopefully, we will all be seeing a lot of each other. Take care.’

  With three WhatsApp messages, Rahul set up the finale of his investigation. He knew matters had come to a head. Something was going to give tonight. Fredo, Usman and Dubey accepted his invite. Rahul personally laid out the table, covered it with a freshly laundered tablecloth. He brought out the expensive cutlery and plates. He piled up the side table with snacks and expensive malts. He set the wine to chill in the cooler. Then he sat on one of the dining chairs and decided to wait out the time before the three men arrived. It was completely still in the dining area. There was only the steady tick-tock that came from the antique Howard Miller grandfather clock.

  In a
nother part of town, Tanya was frantic when she called Suhel.

  ‘Suhel, you have to stop Rahul. He’s taken recourse to very dangerous action. I fear for his life. Suhel, why are you not replying? Answer me, dammit! What’s got into you, Suhel? Suhel . . .’

  Suhel had locked himself in his bathroom at home. He held his cellphone firmly till the white of his knuckles showed. He stared at the wall, unmoving, glued to the toilet seat. He shook uncontrollably as he replayed the IIT incident over and over again in his mind. It was almost as if he had woken up after so many years to feel the trauma of a man being burnt alive in front of him.

  He could not decide which of the sensory experiences was more horrible: was it the pop and crackle and spitting noises of a man’s flesh peeling off, or his guttural, inhuman, animal screams of pain? Or was it the sight of a man dying slowly and painfully, hair, clothes and skin on fire—all turning black slowly? Or was it the unbearable smell, the smell of a hundred rotten eggs, of putrid garbage or faeces uncollected over a long period of time? What was it that revolted him the most? He then got the answer, something that had stayed in his subconscious all these years but had never come out in the open.

  It was none of these sensory experiences that he associated with the doomed lead guitarist. It was the sight of Rahul trapped in a circle of fire, inches away from succumbing to a fiery death. It was the look on his face that shook Suhel’s soul. He was completely calm, serene, peaceful . . . as if he was a saint with clairvoyant vision that knew such events would come to pass.

  The phone dropped from Suhel’s hands, and he wetted his pants. He cried in shame and looked up, but the fear would not go away. Like a stain on the wall it was only becoming bigger.

  Tanya sped her car to the underground basement in her apartment complex and parked roughly, banging her car’s tail lights into another car’s fender. Her head was hurting and she could feel a murderous rage taking over her. She did not care to lock the car. She took the basement elevator to her apartment. She took out the keys and opened the door.