A Forgotten Affair

by Kanchana Banerjee

  Just then, her mobile rang. When she saw who the caller was, her face lit up.

  ‘Hi Deepa!’

  ‘Hi sis! How are you?’ Deepa’s chirpy voice lifted her mood. She’d called after many days.

  After enquiring about her health and what she had been up to, Deepa’s voice turned grim. She said, ‘There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, sis. But don’t know how to begin … lest you feel uncomfortable.’

  ‘No, no, why should I feel uncomfortable? You can ask me anything.’

  ‘Rika…’ Deepa said, ‘how are things between you and him?’

  At first, she didn’t understand what Deepa was hinting at. When she did, Sagarika felt awkward.

  ‘I … don’t … I…’ She wasn’t exactly sure how to continue the conversation.

  ‘Just as I feared,’ Deepa said. ‘Rika, you need to understand that Rishab is waiting for you. He loves you and wants you. You should try to go with the flow … You know what I mean? Just be normal. The way you were.’

  Sagarika found it unnerving that Deepa knew what had transpired between her and Rishab the previous night. She couldn’t be sure, but the timing of the call made her suspicious. Was it Rishab who had asked Deepa to call her?

  ‘Has Rishab said something to you about this?’ she asked, horrified at the prospect of her husband discussing their sex life, or rather the lack of it, with a cousin.

  ‘Of course not! I’m just telling you this because I’m a woman and your sister. I know you. I was just thinking about you last night. You are always in my thoughts, Rika. So I called you first thing this morning. Just remember: he is your husband. Don’t block him out.’

  They spoke for some more time, with Deepa doing most of the talking and Sagarika patiently listening, although her mind was somewhere else.

  It just seems too much of a coincidence – Rishab getting upset because I refused last night and then Deepa calling me this morning.

  The mild throbbing in her head had now aggravated. The room began to spin around her. She held on to the side of the bed, fearing she would fall.

  What is happening? Is Rishab asking Deepa to talk to me? Something feels weird…

  Who is Akash?

  Why can’t I remember anything?

  She tried calling out to Rishab for help. She thought of Vina. She tried to scream, but before she could, she collapsed and passed out on the floor.

  27

  ‘What happened?’ Dr Surjeet Shah, the chief neurosurgeon at Medanta asked Rishab. Sagarika was wheeled into the intensive care unit. She was still unconscious.

  ‘I don’t know. She woke up in the morning and was fine and then the maid found her unconscious.’ Rishab found it difficult to speak.

  ‘Please don’t worry, Mr Mehta. She is in our care now. I’m sure she’ll be fine. There’s nothing to worry.’

  Though Dr Shah tried to sound normal and comforting, he was worried. He knew about Sagarika’s case, had seen all her files and also spoke at length with the doctors in Mumbai who had treated her. This was a complicated case. Sagarika frequently complained of severe headaches. There was no sign of her memory returning. Her losing consciousness … it didn’t look good.

  ‘Rika fainted. I’m in the hospital,’ Rishab texted Shekhar.

  ‘On my way,’ Shekhar replied almost immediately.

  Sagarika was in the intensive care unit and Rishab sat on a sofa outside the ICU, palms gripped tight, his knuckles almost white. He was finding it difficult to breathe.

  Shekhar arrived twenty minutes later. One look at Rishab’s face and he didn’t need telling how severe the issue was. He held Rishab and dragged him to the adjacent balcony, away from the eyes of visitors and hospital staff. Holding his friend by his shoulder, Shekhar waited for Rishab to stop trembling.

  ‘I don’t know what happened. She was fine when I woke up.’

  ‘Last night … did something happen last night?’ Shekhar could see Rishab was trying not to look him in the eye.

  When his friend confided in him, Shekhar said, ‘Rishab! I can understand how you feel … but…’

  ‘But what! But what, Shekhar? Have I not been patient for so long? Am I to blame? I just want things to be normal. I just wanted some intimacy, I wanted us to feel the same way we felt earlier, and I expressed my feelings. But she refused. It’s not like I raped her! I just want to go back to how we were. Is that wrong?’

  Like all best friends, Shekhar knew when to keep quiet. He just sat silently, allowing his friend to let off some steam.

  ‘Yes, I don’t want her to remember. I accept that. I’m trying to take her away from all that happened. I want to pretend everything is normal. But is it wrong … is it wrong to want a second chance? I want Rika and me to start over. Again. But if she starts to remember everything…’ Unable to complete his sentence, Rishab looked away.

  ‘Rishab,’ Shekhar said, ‘don’t beat yourself up about this. You have gone through hell. The doctors have only attended to Sagarika. No one has thought about what you have endured all these months.’

  But what Shekhar really wanted to tell his friend was something very different. Something Rishab couldn’t bear to hear.

  You’re trying to pretend that everything is normal. Nothing is normal. You can’t get your second chance with Rika not remembering her past. That’s just wrong. She needs to remember. And your efforts to stall that are wrong. Removing her from Mumbai, where her memories lie, bringing her to Gurgaon and hoping things will be okay – this is all a mistake.

  But Shekhar couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  ‘If only I could find someone to prescribe that drug!’ Rishab muttered to himself. Shekhar heard him.

  ‘What drug? What…’

  Shekhar was interrupted by the doctor’s assistant who came by to inform them that Sagarika’s check-up was complete.

  ‘I’ll get us some coffee,’ Shekhar told Rishab. ‘You talk to the doctors.’

  He couldn’t shake off what he had heard Rishab muttering. ‘What was he talking about? What drug?’ he wondered. By the time he returned with two steaming mugs of Americano, Rishab was in deep conversation with the assistant doctor.

  ‘There’s nothing to worry. She’s fine. Her tests are clear.’

  ‘And is she … awake?’ Rishab couldn’t bring himself to ask the doc if his wife had slipped back into coma.

  ‘She’s awake, Mr Mehta. She’s fine. Dr Shah will see you in a bit,’ the attending doctor said.

  ‘You meet the doc; I will go and be with Sagarika,’ Shekhar said to Rishab, handing a cup of coffee to him.

  Dr Shah, the neurosurgeon, wasn’t someone to spend time on small talk. He was the best in Delhi and one of the top five in the country. He was aware of Rishab’s stature and power, but was used to dealing with such people. He decided to be firm with him.

  ‘Mr Mehta, you have to tread very carefully with your wife,’ he said. ‘She is extremely fragile and vulnerable. You can’t have altercations with her. At any cost.’

  Rishab wanted to snap at the doctor but gritted his teeth and stayed quiet.

  ‘Your wife has recovered physically but mentally she’s still quite blank. Her mind is desperate to find a memory from the past. And with every passing day she’s getting more and more anxious. So be very mindful of everything you say to her and be prepared for the unexpected. Since you are the only one living with her, you are as much a patient as she is. I can give her medicines, but to you I only have this cautionary advice to offer. I hope you understand what I’m trying to say.’

  Rishab nodded.

  ‘And one more thing,’ Dr Shah said. ‘Did you and your wife get intimate lately?’

  Rishab shook his head.

  ‘Did you broach the topic with your wife?’

  Rishab didn’t have any answer to this question.

  ‘I can understand your anxiety, Mr Mehta,’ Dr Shah said reassuringly. ‘You’ve been patient so far. Just a few months more. She isn’t ready.’


  Rishab made a grunting sound to indicate that he had heard and walked out. He wanted to give the doctor an earful but swallowed his anger.

  What does he mean! Am I some monster who tried to rape my wife and as a result of that she fainted? It’s all your fault, Sagarika. Everything was perfect. But you had to ruin it all by your stupidity. I’m not going to let you…

  Shekhar walked up to him, interrupting his thought.

  ‘How is she? Did she say anything?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ Shekhar said. ‘The meds have made her sluggish and sleepy. But she recognized me.’

  Dr Shah had instructed that Sagarika be kept under observation for another day. After making sure the attending nurse had everything she needed, Shekhar and Rishab walked back to their cars. Shekhar wanted to ask him about what he meant when he muttered about the drug. He didn’t. Something else was on his mind.

  When Shekhar was in Sagarika’s room, she had asked him a peculiar question.

  ‘What’s the name of the perfume you use, Shekhar?’

  28

  When Sagarika was discharged from hospital and brought home, Vina and the other domestic helps attended to her immediately. Rishab had left them a long list of instructions about her medication, food and rest. Sagarika stayed in bed for most of the day. Not only did she feel weak, the medicines also made her quite drowsy.

  Sometime around early evening, she woke up and decided to check her cellphone to see if she had received any calls. As she tried switching it on, she found that its battery was completely drained out.

  The moment she connected it to a power source, the screen glowed and the message icon blinked. She clicked on it. There were five messages. All from the same person. Akash.

  Each message said the same thing.

  Sagarika, where are you. Are you ok? I’m worried sick.

  She typed back:

  Had a relapse. Was in hospital. Got back home yesterday evening.

  In less than a minute came the reply:

  Get to FB. Can u talk?

  She switched on her laptop, got into bed and pulled up the quilt. As soon as she logged in to Facebook, she messaged Akash:

  Yes.

  –

  What happened?

  –

  I had a relapse. Had to be admitted for check-ups. Now I am fine.

  –

  Tell me what happened.

  –

  Rishab behaves like nothing has happened. Almost as though I haven’t lost my memory. It’s so weird.

  –

  What happened? Tell me in detail.

  Sagarika wasn’t ready to discuss intimate details with him yet. With some hesitation, she began typing.

  I’m worried. He just keeps talking about the present and future like nothing has happened. It upsets me.

  –

  He doesn’t want you to remember.

  For a while now, Sagarika had wondered if she was being delusional in thinking that Rishab was steering away from her questions about the past. She had felt that he didn’t want her to remember but then had quashed the suspicion as it seemed too bizarre. But when Akash echoed her thoughts, she began to seriously consider the possibility. It left her feeling weird and uncomfortable.

  Why would he not want me to remember the past?

  And then it all became clear – his reluctance to take her to their Mumbai house, bringing her to Gurgaon and not wanting to discuss her past … all pointed to the same thing.

  He really didn’t want her to remember.

  She typed further:

  I know. I feel the same thing. But why?

  –

  I have so much to tell u, Cheeni, so much. But I have to go now. I’ll text. Please promise me you’ll stay calm. Take your meds and rest a lot.

  After a few hours a message blinked. It was Akash.

  U there? Can u talk?

  –

  Tell me about me. Who was I? I want to remember my life.

  Akash could feel the desperation in her message. He wanted to reach out to her and hold her. He ached to be with her and walk her down memory lane. To help her put back all the missing pieces.

  Your mom is a Bengali and dad a Punjabi. You’re an only child. Your father passed away a few years back and your mom moved from Amritsar, the city you were born in, to Kolkata. You came to Mumbai for college and then stayed on.

  And then he told her everything he knew about her: she loved feeding stray dogs, she hated cats, she loved watching the rain, the sea, the moon and the sun, she loved sugarcane juice, she was obsessed with hygiene, she loved watching horror flicks, she loved food but hated cooking, she bargained like a mad woman till the shopkeeper surrendered – only to get her to stop…

  None of these things are unique. It could be anyone. You’re just making it up.

  –

  What do you want me to say?

  –

  Tell me something about me that no one else would know.

  –

  Ok. You have a strawberry mark above your right nipple.

  –

  Sagarika’s eyes widened with surprise. Akash continued:

  You have a cute mole on the left side of your waist. Another one on your right shoulder. U like twirling a strand of your curly hair around your index finger. U like to suck on the upper lip while you kiss…

  Akash could go on and on, but it wasn’t easy for him to recollect all these memories.

  Sagarika, meanwhile, was alarmed at what she read on the screen.

  How does he know about marks and moles on my body?

  Who the hell are u? How do u know all this???!! GET LOST.

  Sagarika logged out and shut the laptop with an angry snap. Pushing away her quilt, she walked into her bathroom, turned the tap on and slapped her face with water. The ice-cold water felt like a hundred needles piercing through. Her palms looked grimy; she mixed the hot water with the cold and squirted some handwash on to them, all the while thinking about what Akash had just told her. She stood there gently rubbing her palms, thinking. She closed her eyes.

  She suddenly found herself back in time, in front of a tiny washbasin in a small house. She was washing her hands. A man came and stood behind her. Encircling her, gently grazing her breasts, he began massaging the soapy foam on her palms. His smooth rounded fingers made soft circles on her palm. Pushing between her fingers, gently rubbing her fingertips. She was loving it. The man was rubbing his palm against hers. His body pressed against her back. She loved the feel. She looked up and smiled at the reflection of the man in the mirror. It was Akash.

  Sagarika jolted back as though she had touched a live wire. She was back in her bathroom in Gurgaon. Alone.

  29

  ‘Rika!’ Rishab’s voice thundered through the bedroom. She wiped her hands and face and walked out of the bathroom. She wanted to talk to Akash but it would have to wait.

  Shekhar and his wife, Anahita, were home. Anahita was carrying a bouquet of yellow roses. After handing them to Vina, who promptly put them in a crystal vase at the centre of the dining table, she gave Sagarika a limp hug. ‘Get well soon, dear,’ she said.

  Sagarika smiled back feebly. Anahita’s hug and smile were as cold as the weather.

  This one is no friend of mine.

  Shekhar’s hug, though, felt warm, like one from an older brother. Sagarika smelt his perfume again and staggered, holding on to his shirt. Seeing Sagarika trembling, Shekhar looked at his wife first and then at his friend.

  ‘Rika, are you okay?’ Rishab asked her gently.

  ‘The smell of your perfume, Shekhar. I know it from somewhere,’ she said. ‘It’s very familiar, Rishab. I know it.’ She balled her fists on Shekhar’s shirt, refusing to let go.

  ‘I asked you that day. In the hospital. But you didn’t answer,’ she told Shekhar, her eyes wide and looking for answers from him. ‘Tell me. How do I…’

  ‘Rika,’ Rishab said, pulling her away from Shekhar. ‘Please relax.’

>   ‘Vina!’ he called out firmly. He wanted to scream at Sagarika. He despised such scenes in front of friends.

  And why on earth was she fixated on the perfume Shekhar used?

  ‘Please take madam to bed,’ he told Vina. ‘She’s feeling unwell.’ He walked to the bedroom with her and from his cupboard fished out the emergency medicine which the doctor had given.

  ‘If you feel that she is bordering on hysteria, give her half a tab. It will soothe her. We can’t afford a stroke. She could slip into coma.’

  He waited till Vina had administered the tablet to Sagarika, and made sure she was in bed, under her quilt. ‘Stay in the room with madam,’ Rishab instructed Vina and walked towards the living room where Shekhar and Anahita patiently waited. Feeling awkward about facing them after the scene, he sighed.

  ‘And I thought that it would be a nice, quiet evening between the four of us.’

  Rishab needn’t have worried at all. Shekhar had made himself comfortable, opened a bottle of red and fixed a glass each of scotch for his buddy and wife. Anahita, meanwhile, made herself useful by going to the kitchen and asking the cook to get some finger food ready.

  ‘Make some mini pizzas with salami slices,’ she said. ‘Roast the chilli potato slices. And give some hummus with the pita bread,’ she said, peeping in to the fridge. ‘A rather well-stocked fridge for a home where the wife is not herself,’ she muttered to herself.

  Shekhar didn’t allow his friend to apologize or say anything. He just behaved as though nothing had happened. The evening passed off without any further drama.

  30

  It took Sagarika a couple of days before she could muster some courage to reach out to Akash again.

  I need to know about my life. Maybe he does know.

  What made her believe in Akash was something she didn’t ponder on. She had been very unnerved when he told her about the birthmark, the moles … and the kiss. It made her very uncomfortable.