Deja Karma

by Vish Dhamija

  ‘No,’ Jay answered and waited. Numerous questions sparked in his brain, but he silently waited the Swami out.

  ‘Your mother was a woman, and every woman I’ve ever known wants to give birth to feel motherhood. So, despite the fact that she had you, she still wanted to procreate but after all the doctors had thrown in their expensive towels, she came to God for help. That’s how she found me. Your father didn’t believe in all these holy things, and hence refused to participate and also dictated that she did not visit me or any other Maharishi for this. I’m sure you can understand now why all those visits were a bit guarded?’

  A feeling of guilt surged over Jay. He felt petty. How could he have thought anything impure about his mother who never even once let him feel that he was an orphan?

  ‘I am sorry, Swamijee. Forgive me, I thought—’

  ‘Who am I to forgive? It is Him.’ The Swami pointed skywards. ‘I tried my best, with prayers and Ayurveda to help your mother conceive, but I think that God had other plans.’

  ‘Why did you move from Delhi?’

  ‘I am a nomad, child. God gives me a purpose, I do my duty and move on when I get a call from Him.’ The Swami folded his hands as respect to God.

  ‘But, didn’t it bother you that my mother never conceived after all the treatment you provided?’

  ‘We humans are mere puppets; we can only do our duty. It is up to God Almighty to give or withhold. Your mother stopped coming so I figured she must have either lost faith or given up trying.’

  ‘Or maybe she conceived?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I believe that she would have at least come to me once to offer her prayers to God if she had.’

  ‘You believe in God so much?

  ‘What else is there to believe in? Isn’t everything else just mere illusion — we call it maya. Do you know why your mother stopped coming to me? Did your father find out and stop her?’

  Jay thought for a while. Was there any point in lying? Or concealing anything? He told everything to the Swami who listened with his eyes closed. At the end he invited Jay and his friend — Bhīma — to have dinner with him.

  It is illegal to consume alcohol or eat meat, fish or poultry in Pushkar. The Swami had prepared plain yellow lentils on an open fire and he cooked some chapattis to feed them. It was strange, but for once, without his material comforts, without alcohol, Jay sensed peace. Like some great load had been taken off his chest. He felt deep respect for his mother for not letting him feel like he wasn’t her own blood, and equally felt a pang of shame to have thought about the Swami inappropriately.

  They sat on the cold sand outside the Swami’s hut after dinner. Nothing but the wind swept the fallen leaves although that night even the wind, it appeared, was not in the mood. There were no other humans, just the three of them. The night sky was clear, the stars shone bright. A koel flitted its wings and cuckooed from somewhere up on the tree. Jay felt no haste to leave. He was happy and at peace.

  Sipping hot tea the Swami said: ‘Child, at most times nothing is in your control, but sometimes, things turn really bad and ugly. I can only sympathise with you, for what you went through. And though I may not be able to help you in your search for your father’s killer, what I can offer is prayers at the Main-Ghat for both your parents. Please join me at sunrise. You may or may not believe in all these rituals, but believe me, if nothing else, it will give you peace to give closure to a chapter.’

  Despite the long travel, Jay had a restless night. The weariness was more mental than physical. He juxtaposed his material success with Swamijee’s penury and, for the first time in his life, wondered if he was happy after achieving all that he had aspired to. He had never believed in any scriptural rites, but he got up before sunrise, took a bath, checked out of the hotel and attended the prayers offered at the Main-Ghat. Bhīma drove him back to Delhi after that. All along the journey, as the car travelled through the arid land of Rajasthan, and shrubs and cacti raced in reverse while some stray cattle looked up to gawk at the roaring sound of the Audi, Jay was consumed by Jack Daniels and his innermost thoughts. He felt remorse and guilt for being suspicious of his mother’s relationship with the Swami. How could he ever have let such despicable thoughts stray into his mind for someone who not even for a second let him feel that he was her stepson? Stepmothers were known to be evil creatures that dispensed ill treatment. One of the epigrammatic dialogues of Sholay came to mind: “Sagi mausi hoon, koi sautalee ma nahin.” (I am a real aunt, not a step mother) and he felt he was looking out of the car through a shallow waterfall. It is sad that some realisations occur only after a protracted time, and, in some cases, long after the soul you yearn to seek forgiveness from has departed. Was that his penance? Was that why God — and this was the first time in years Jay had God on his mind, perhaps only because Swamijee had so influenced him — had steered him to the Swami? Wish he could go back in time and… and do what? He couldn’t stop his parents wrangling? No. And the hatred for his father overwhelmed him. The way he had treated his mother, physically abusing her. Worse still, the man did not allow her to pursue her single desire to have a child of her own. Although Jay was, now, wiser that conceiving for his mother was medically impossible, his old man had given nothing but agony to her. He had no pointers to figure out if his father was his biological father but after this Pushkar visit he had no inclination to look for the truth either. Something unprecedented had happened; he felt relieved that that his father had died when he did, though there was no consolation for why his poor mother had got implicated in the hideous crime she hadn’t perpetrated. The child in him wanted to look for his biological mother, the man in him denied it. Then the topography changed. The state of Haryana offered lush trees to look at. Jay pondered where could he focus next? One suspect eliminated is also one lead gone. With the main suspect — the one that Jay had assumed he was — out of the frame, he was back to zero. On the radio Barry Manilow was singing his heart out that he missed someone even now and even now he woke up and cried in the middle of the night. Ahem! Jay connected his iPod through Bluetooth and changed the music to Pink Floyd to feel comfortably numb.

  ‘Did your guys find the friends of my father who had borrowed money from him?’ he asked Bhīma as they were nearing Delhi.

  ‘Out of the two key ones you asked me to investigate first, one is no more, hukum, the other one is still to be located; he moved out of Delhi decades ago, but we are onto it.’

  ‘Thanks, Bhīma. And thanks for the long drive too.’

  Sheeba heard the car in the drive and couldn’t contain her cheerful yelping. Jay petted Sheeba for a long time, fixed his drink and waited for Cooper. There was no prior arrangement but he waited. And he waited in vain.

  TWENTY-THREE

  The call was predictable, but it nevertheless surprised Jay. In his sudden dash to see the Swami in Pushkar, he had totally overlooked getting back to Anita with Cooper’s numbers. The trouble with some of the new technologies is that they accomplish more than you want the bloody things to, and occasionally more than you are actually even aware of. When Cooper’s numbers went missing on his iPhone, little did Jay realise that the deletion would also synch and harmonise with the address book on his MacBook via the Cloud. It was a revelation and he felt cheated all over again. Had Cooper known this? Suddenly, all the benefits of technology seemed like a curse as Jay Singh sat brooding in his office about how big an idiot he had been for not keeping Cooper’s contact details anywhere else. What happened to the good old world of Rolodex? Or jotting down contacts in the little address-book alphabetically? Anyway, he knew Cooper would be back in a week or so. Jay decided to give him some peace of his mind. But why the heck did the sucker have to agree to let Jay give his numbers to Anita? He could have simply refused and Jay would have understood. It wasn’t that Cooper had to comply with everything he requested? Bastard.

  He felt ludicrous explaining the faux pas to Anita, but she, it appeared, had better understanding of the technology
than him.

  ‘I expected this, but I thought maybe you kept the numbers elsewhere too. Anyway, we’ll get to it. When you see him next—’

  ‘You bet. The next time I see him I will physically bring him to you.’ Jay knew better. Since he had known his friend, Cooper always had an upper hand in the relationship. He couldn’t coerce or cajole Cooper to do anything that Cooper didn’t want to. Persuading Cooper? No way. But then, when had Jay tried?

  ‘That’s not required. I mean… if Mr Cooper isn’t willing, then he is hardly of much use even if he turns up physically.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘On another note, is it at all possible to relieve Mr Bhīma for a while?’

  ‘For?’

  ‘I’d like to talk to him in private.’

  ‘Talk to Bhīma about what? I’ve already told you all there is about Bhīma. If there’s anything else you want to know about him, I shall fill in the gaps when we meet next.’

  ‘You’ve got it the wrong way around, Jay. I want to talk to Bhīma about you.’

  ‘What about me?’ Jay’s curiosity and anxiety both rose like helium filled balloons. Was this girl getting too smart for him?

  ‘He lives with you, spends more time with you than anyone else, so it’s only natural he might know something that might be of some help to you and me.’

  She had a point.

  Bhīma would know more about Jay’s day-to-day life than Cooper or Ali put together. It might be a totally different matter that Bhīma might not divulge much, given his loyalty.

  ‘Okay,’ he murmured. ‘When do you want to see him?’

  ‘Well, if you are okay with it in principle, I’ll ask Manavi to set something up.’

  ‘No worries, I’ll call Manavi and let her know.’

  Manavi.

  The very thought of her made some of his gloom fade. He gave an account of his hurried visit to Pushkar and what the Swami had told him, and that taking everything he now knew into consideration he had cleared the Swami of any ill feelings or accusations.

  ‘Good. That should ease some of your worries.’

  ‘I am still nowhere closer to the truth.’

  ‘We’ll get there.’

  As Jay put the phone down, Julie brought in his morning coffee and he requested her to close the door and leave him alone for a while. No calls or interruptions please. He mulled over his conversation with Anita. This little therapy had started overtaking his whole life. What had started as a few sessions for him had begun to involve his friends, his associates, and all to understand what they could disclose about him. Nevertheless, what choice did he have? If he did not cooperate with the treatment, the update — he could bet it would go back as a complaint — would go to Justice Chowdhary and he understood what the exact ramification of that would be: debarment. The therapy, however much of a nuisance it was to his schedule, was certainly working; he had started drinking a lot less. But, that could also be because he was occupied with Manavi. At any rate, he conceded that he couldn’t afford to withdraw.

  ***

  Bhīma’s boys finally hit pay dirt. The news was disquieting, whichever way you looked at it. Seven years previously, Kumar had been accused of killing a young girl who he had been dating. In other words, another mistress. However, his dad being in power then, used his political muscle and money to cosh the case. The victim’s mother was bullied and threatened to withdraw the case and then paid off handsomely. She changed her story to one of burglary and stabbing. The FIR against Kumar was obliterated from the police files. By any records, the murder did not happen, and could not be upheld by prosecution. Nevertheless, if Talwar even got so much as a whiff of the same he’d most definitely exploit it, mentioning “the rumour” in front of the judge to influence the current case. The judge would find it all too coincidental to accept that someone might get accused for murder on two instances, both under similar circumstances and on both occasions with the victims being the accused’s alleged mistresses. Sadly, Jay had no way of establishing how much Talwar knew. His intuition told him he should proceed assuming Talwar didn’t know, given that his investigative channels were limited to the state and the state had itself destroyed any record of the same; they wouldn’t be stupid enough to bring it up and risk any flack or retribution. But, a defence advocate had to anticipate every possible move and countermove and plan an attack against that. Yes, the prosecutor could come up with yet another unanticipated and even more bizarre move — the beast of legal battle couldn’t change — but there wasn’t much choice.

  Despite having told Kumar he’d only see him in the week before the trial, Jay knew this outstanding new slice of discovery needed to be discussed. As part of consultations with his defence advocate, Kumar should have revealed this even if the allegation was unfounded. Anyhow, it warranted a tête-à-tête with the flamboyant Mr Vinay Kumar.

  ***

  ‘I thought we weren’t meeting till later unless something came up.’

  ‘You’re right. Something did come up.’

  Pray, what’s that?’

  ‘Have you ever been accused of bumping off another mistress before Gina, my dear master of encore?’

  ‘No,’ he spat out immediately, but then pursed his lips.

  Was he was rendered speechless? Had he finally been caught out?

  Jay waited till a tight smile appeared on his lips. Was he concealing his embarrassment? Offering an apology? Jay wanted to stand up and slap the idiot.

  ‘Vinay, from now on if you are desperate to lie, lie to your wife, lie to your dad, lie to your kids, your friends and if you can›t get hold of any of them stand in front of the fucking mirror and lie. If you fucking lie to me ever again, I’ll personally fuck you. Let this be the last warning.’

  ‘What does anything from my past have to do with this case? It was a fabricated accusation and I had even forgotten about it till you mentioned it now.’

  Forgotten? Who the fuck forgets that they were accused of murder?

  Jay wondered what else had Kumar concealed? And what more could pop up before or during the trial? He let the silence hang sufficiently long for Kumar to continue.

  ‘Why is it so difficult for you to believe I’m innocent?’

  ‘I’ve told you before — it’s not me, it’s the judge who has to believe it.’

  ‘And why should it be difficult for the judge to believe that I am innocent?’

  ‘You don’t really want me to answer it again for you, do you Vinay? All circumstantial evidence points towards you, and the motive isn’t lacking far behind.’

  ‘But, I hired the best lawyer—’

  ‘I am a lawyer, I don’t make the laws,’ Jay interjected before Kumar would come up with something more ridiculous.

  ‘So what’s the best mitigation strategy if this comes up?’

  What a cheek to ask.

  ‘If the prosecuting advocate, Mr Talwar brings it up, it would be without any evidence and my best option would be to quash it and expect the Judge to uphold my objection. No guarantees, but that is the only option we have.’

  Kumar seemed to accept that.

  ‘I have received the bill from your office and shall send a cheque,’ Kumar mentioned when the meeting concluded and he was about to leave.

  ‘Apologies if I sound crude and candid Vinay, but please ensure your cheque is cleared before the trial begins.’ Jay smiled. He wasn’t wont to chasing clients after the case. Vinay Kumar did not qualify for pro bono. In fact, no defendant ever qualified for it.

  ***

  Unfortunately, Bhīma’s search for the Glock still drew a blank. It was now only a week for Kumar’s trial to commence and he seemed to have exhausted all possible sources. Where had the confounded Glock surfaced from in Delhi? And where had it been dropped after Gina’s murder? Jay would be happy with even one of the answers, but Bhīma was struggling. Had they missed something blindingly obvious? After all, sometimes it is merely one missing piece in the jigsaw that can render th
e entire game hopeless.

  Equally hopeless was the progress made on the other front. Bhīma’s moles had located the other friend of Jay’s father who had owed him a large amount. The old man in question had migrated to Canada long before Jay’s father’s murder. He had no reason to contract anyone to eliminate the senior Mr Singh, as he had no plans to ever return to the country or repay the money. Then, why bother dirtying your hands? Jay felt bitter that the person had borrowed from his father with no intent of repayment but at the same time it also cleared him of the greater crime. Three suspects down, including the Swami. It was now like looking for the proverbial needle to go after the two dozen or more associates who owed small sums of money to his father. Best of luck with that!

  ***

  The whole day had passed tending to the affairs of the office, processing Bhīma’s updates, and then there was Kumar’s already vo-luminous case file that was burgeoning with every new discovery of another one of his antics. Jay was worried sick thinking what the idiot might spring next.

  It was late, Jay was tired and needed a drink. The fragrant thought of Manavi came up and he could smell her perfume, but he didn’t want to sound desperate by calling her at this hour. And he didn’t want to go home either. Akbar Ali. He decided to go and see Ali. Ali would surely give some valuable advice in general and, maybe, dispense some counsel on Kumar’s impending trial; though it was unlikely he would be willing to help a defendant. Nevertheless, Jay knew, philosophies and doctrines would be discussed, foreign policies of many a country would be thrashed out in a highly inebriated state, which is what his brain needed, to evade the building anxiety. The next few weeks, Jay knew from experience, would be very trying and he was sure he wouldn’t find any time for an evening with his friend. As per ritual, he picked up a bottle of Scotch on the way.