A Handful of Sunshine

by Vikram Bhatt

  Shazia was dead.

  The dull glow from the street lights made its way through the fogged-up window and the white lace curtain, spreading a pale yellow light in my bedroom.

  I had no idea what time it was—probably late in the night or early in the morning. Time was lost to me. I lay in bed, very still, while Kavita held me tight. She was trying her best to help me with my pain but sleep had finally caught up with her, and here I was, staring at the window, alone with my thoughts.

  Had I killed Shazia? My mind was seized by the what ifs. What if I had not asked her to see me off at the airport? What if I had not lost my cool and told her off about love? What if I had followed up on my feeling that something was wrong when I saw her at the airport? I could hear her laughter. I could see her showing me that obnoxious jewellery. There she was outside my door with breakfast for me. And then like every morning she was pulling up against the sidewalk in her car to pick me up with the regular cup of coffee and her gorgeous smile. I could hear her say, ‘Hello, V!’

  My cell phone buzzed and I looked over to see a message from Mira.

  Are you okay?

  Was I okay? I could see the time on the cell phone. It was past 3 a.m. Mira was awake as well. She couldn’t sleep because she could feel my pain. Shazia died because she could not feel love like the one Mira and I had, and here we were, living that love, yet not together. We were just a sum of our really messed up decisions. I did not reply. I did not want to lie to Mira and tell her that I was okay, and should I tell her the truth what was she going to do about it? Send me a message asking me to be strong? That was not what I wanted from her.

  Iqbal Sheikh and Syed Gul were the Muslims I knew at the office, and they helped me secure a good piece of earth for Shazia at the Waltham Forest Cemetery. They made sure it was a gravesite by the meadow on the far side and not along the road.

  The office was in a state of shock and even the usually apathetic Jim Jonas was shaken to his core. Strangely, it made me smile because I could hear Shazia say, ‘Damn Jonas! If I knew my death would shake him up, I would have died sooner.’ Yes, that would be a Shazia thing to say.

  I waited for the coroner’s office to release her body. Some of the office guys, including Iqbal and Syed, insisted on coming along and I did not resist. I did ask Kavita to go about her day, though. There was nothing she could do and I was not sure if she would have the stomach for the coroner and the graveyard. She understood that I was perhaps right about that.

  We had the funeral service come with their hearse to prepare her body for burial.

  I could see the business of death play out in front of me—the paperwork, the price of caskets, the rituals, and the endless wait for everything to come through. I wondered if these people who dealt with death day in and day out felt any remorse when they lost their dear ones. They seemed immune to death and its pain.

  Mira messaged again while they were carrying Shazia’s body into the hearse.

  For God’s sake, Veer! Message me back! Are you okay? I am worried about you.

  No, Mira, I am not going to message you back. I don’t want cyber-sympathies. If you cannot be there for me holding my hand at the coroner’s office, then you don’t get to be worried about me. I did not need a penfriend for God’s sake!

  The Waltham Cemetery was half an hour’s drive away to the north-west through narrow, winding lanes. The funeral service guys seemed to know how to get there.

  I was insistent that Shazia should be buried in accordance with her religion. In keeping with that, they had bathed the body and covered it with a plain, white shroud. At the cemetery, they carried the casket to the gravesite and then removed her body from the casket.

  This was not my Shazia. This was someone different. I couldn’t recognize the form that lay under the shroud. Iqbal and Syed seemed to know what to do and so did some of Shazia’s other Muslim friends from London. They said their prayers and then placed her body in that little trench with her face towards Mecca. I really hoped her Allah was listening to her and giving her another life filled with the love she craved.

  A handful of earth to be put on her thrice; I was the last to do it. I was convinced that Shazia was not this person in the shroud. Instead, in my mind, she had gone for an extended holiday with her Greek millionaire. The workers at the cemetery took over and filled the trench with earth. Soon, the mound of earth began to resemble a grave. From earth to earth. There was nothing more for me to do at the cemetery, yet I was not ready to say bye to her.

  I drove to the pub on King’s Road, where Shazia and I had sat drinking on so many evenings. The bartender recognized me and smiled, glancing at the door expecting Shazia to walk in. She did not. He looked at me, the smile still in place, but a question in his eyes. I finally said it out loud as I sat on the bar stool.

  ‘She is dead. Shazia is dead.’

  The smile disappeared from his face. ‘I am sorry to hear that.’

  ‘A double Jack, please.’ I sounded curt, but he did not seem to mind. He nodded and went about his business. The phone buzzed again.

  Veer, where are you?

  I am lost, Mira. I am really lost.

  Then all of a sudden it came to me. I realized why I was not ready to let Shazia go. It was as if Shazia was trying to tell me something from beyond her grave and I had to listen to it. Once again I saw Shazia being lowered into the trench and thought I heard her say, ‘Veer, it is time to be one of the two people. You can either be someone like me, being lowered into a grave for a life I craved for and could not have, or you can go out there and create the life you have always wanted. There is just no other way to exist.’

  ‘You are right, Shazia. You are so right,’ I found myself saying to no one around me.

  MIRA

  Tuesday evening

  I was worried sick and Veer would just not respond to my messages. It had been almost twenty-four hours since I had put him in the cab at Trafalgar. I had tried to catch the news and surfed the Net, but the information on it was sketchy at best. It did mention that Shazia Khan, a single girl living in Sloane Square, had committed suicide, but there was no one to blame and no arrests made for abetting a suicide. Not that it mattered to me why she died. All I wanted to know was about Veer. My heart was hurting for him. My Veer was hurting and I could do nothing about it.

  I lay in bed, tossing and turning. All I could see was Veer and his face ridden with pain. I noticed it was really early in the morning, but I sent him a message in any case. I noticed that he read the message and it worried me even more when he did not respond.

  I had meetings all day with various sales teams, but through it all I could only think of Veer. I sent him another message in the afternoon; once again there was no response, once again I could see that he had read the message. It was late afternoon when I messaged him again. I was going out of my mind worrying about him. I was afraid he would do something silly and hurt himself.

  Finally I’d had enough and called him.

  ‘Hello?’ His voice sounded pained and faraway.

  ‘What’s the matter with you, Veer?’ I screamed all my pent-up concern out in one question. ‘I have been messaging you all day. The least you can do is respond. I am worried sick about you!’

  ‘What are you going to do if I say that I am hurting, and sad and alone?’ he asked me without raising his voice.

  I had a distinct feeling that he had been drinking.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I shot back, still upset.

  ‘You know what I mean, Mira. What are you going to do about it?’ he asked me again. He was right. I knew what he meant all too well. And he was right about the other part as well. What was I going to do about it? I couldn’t find anything to say to him.

  ‘Take care of your husband’s broken hand, Mira. My broken heart has never mattered to you.’ There was no malice in his voice or any hint of a confrontation. If I could hear anything, it was resignation.

  His words shot me in the heart. I closed my ey
es and sighed. The anger left me and was replaced by a deep sense of guilt. I had always shortchanged Veer. He was right.

  ‘Meet me now, Veer,’ I found myself saying to him.

  ‘Mira . . .’

  ‘Please, Veer, I need to see you.’ I cut him off before he could argue.

  There was a long pause.

  ‘Where?’ he asked me with a sigh.

  ‘I have a company suite booked at the Taj at 51 Buckingham. I will leave you a key with the concierge. In an hour?’

  ‘All right,’ he responded. I felt like he had a sob stuck in his throat that refused to get unstuck. Oh my Veer! I had no clue why his unshed tears made me cry.

  I got to the hotel before Veer did. The Indian Food Company had a suite on the top floor of the hotel that looked towards Buckingham Palace, though all I could see through the window was the gold of the Queen Victoria Memorial.

  It was only 4 p.m., but the sun was ready to set and I could see the sky beyond the memorial turn the deep red of twilight in winter.

  I hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights up until then, but sitting around in the dark did not give me any joy either. I walked across to the floor lamp and turned it on. There was a painting of a lonely girl walking through a field of tulips on the far wall. She seemed sad to me. And then it struck me how we see our emotions work themselves into things around us. A more content person than I would have seen a girl spending some time in solitude, but I found her lonely. My feelings just revealed to me how deeply dissatisfied I was with my life. Just then the doorbell rang.

  I opened the door and found Veer standing there, looking sad and broken. I quickly pulled him in, shut the door behind him and hugged him tight.

  ‘I love you, Veer. I hate to see you hurt like this.’

  ‘I love you too, Mira,’ he said in a low voice.

  I held his hand and guided him to the couch.

  ‘Have you eaten? Should I order some room service?’ I asked him. He shook his head.

  I hugged him once again. I couldn’t stop the love from bursting forth.

  ‘Our love killed Shazia . . .’ I heard him say against my chest.

  ‘What?’ I pulled away, trying to make sense of that. I could see the tears in his eyes.

  ‘I was on my way to see you in New York when Shazia and I had this tiff about morality versus love. She tried to caution me against a relationship with you and I told her off about real love. I think I was a little too harsh on her, but what I did not know was that all along she had been lying to me and to everyone in general about a Greek millionaire boyfriend who never really existed. How was I to know that she was a sucker for a love that she never had? And when she felt the intensity of our love, she packed it in like a fool, thinking it was too late for her to find such love. She did not want to live a lonely life and decided to end it.’

  I couldn’t believe my ears. I sat there looking at Veer wondering if our love was really that great.

  ‘On second thoughts, she was no fool, Mira. She was right that it was too late to find such love.’ Veer leaned forward, looking me in the eye.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I countered.

  ‘Look at us, Mira. What have we done with our lives? Did you find a Veer again? You found Akhil, yes, but did you find Veer? I found Kavita, but did I find Mira? We found the most precious thing in the world and tossed it around like a bag of garbage.’

  ‘Yes, we did,’ I agreed with him.

  ‘When I saw Shazia being lowered into the grave, I realized that I did not want to die loveless like that. We live once and we love once. The rest of the time we exist and pretend it’s love, but in reality we neither live nor love.’ Veer had tears rolling down his face and I realized that this was the first time he was letting go since Shazia had passed away.

  ‘I agree, Veer, but we are all victims of our circumstances.’ The attempt seemed feeble even to me.

  ‘We make our circumstances, Mira. And we made some bad ones for us. But now no more. This is it!’ He wiped his tears with the back of his hand and stood up.

  ‘I have decided, Mira. It’s all or nothing for us. I really wish it is all.’

  ‘All or nothing? Are you forgetting that I am married?’ I asked him, semi-shocked.

  ‘No I am not, but we have to let them go. You have to let Akhil go and I have to let Kavita go. If we want this, this precious love, then we have to let them go and be with each other. We cannot be guilty. We cannot hide and be ashamed.’

  ‘Veer, have you lost your mind?’ I was appalled at the way he was thinking. ‘Leave Akhil and leave Kavita? What wrong have they done?’

  ‘What wrong had I done when you left me and went off to Singapore? Please tell me that! It’s tough to break Akhil’s heart, but it was easy to break mine? Why is our love and I always your last priority, Mira?’ I had never seen so much passion in Veer’s eyes. He was a man on fire. I had never seen anyone talk about immorality with such moral authority.

  ‘Veer, we were younger then. I made a mistake, but that does not mean I should make one again. Akhil is a good man. A very good man as a matter of fact. He has done everything to make me happy. I cannot punish him in this way. I cannot be selfish and leave!’

  ‘You are being selfish by being with him, Mira!’ Veer shouted. I looked at him, confused. He wasn’t making any sense.

  ‘Do you love Akhil like you love me, Mira?’

  I closed my eyes. I did not want to answer that question. I looked at the girl in the tulip fields. She knew the truth. She had told me the truth.

  ‘Come on, Mira! Do you love Akhil like you love me? Will you ever?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, Veer. I cannot love anyone the way I love you.’

  ‘Then are you not being selfish by being in his life and robbing him of the opportunity of finding that love for himself? Does he not deserve the Mira that Veer has? Does he not merit a woman who will love him the way you love me? You may not want to hurt him by leaving, but don’t you see that you are hurting him more by staying? And I’m hurting Kavita in the same way! We are not only not being fair to us; we are also not being fair to them!’

  I had never thought about it that way. My mind was in turmoil. I put my head in my hands. I did not even know what to think any more. Then I found Veer gently hold my hand and raise my head to look at him.

  ‘Let’s go, Mira. Let’s just leave. We will drive up to the lakes or to Inverness even, and from there you write a letter to Akhil and I will write one to Kavita. They will be hurt, but in time they will understand. We will never have the strength to do this if we are in the same city. We need to get away to do this. If we have to stay together, then we have to start doing this now.’

  My heart was beating so fast I thought I was going to faint. This was all happening too fast. I had never thought of leaving Akhil. I knew it would kill him. I couldn’t do that to him. I just couldn’t. And yet, Veer made sense. How could I secretly love another man more and live with him? Was that not cheating as well? My breathing became rapid and things began to blur.

  ‘Veer, I need time. We just can’t do this like this. This is not a game, Veer. Please!’

  ‘We have had nine years, Mira. For nine years we have been trying to make us work, and for those nine years we have done nothing but ache for each other. How much more time do you want? How much more are we supposed to suffer before we can have each other? Tell me, please.’ He looked intensely into my eyes, and somewhere deep within me, beyond my rapidly beating heart, I had this incredible urge to kiss him and ask him to whisk me away. I did not want to make this decision. Why could he not just make it for both of us and drag me wherever he wanted without giving me a choice? It seemed like he read my mind.

  ‘We cannot get the life we want unless we choose it. Choose me, Mira. Choose us. Please.’

  I kissed him. He kissed me back. We were back in his car after the Mozart concert, we were in Switzerland and we were in Lake Placid. Our mouths were hungry for each other. I was breathles
s, but I couldn’t stop. I felt like a thirsty woman who got thirstier the more water she drank.

  Then a voice within me asked, ‘Mira, would you be okay if you never saw Veer again after today?’

  I pulled away from the kiss with a start and screamed, ‘No!’

  Veer only stared back, trying to comprehend the no.

  ‘Pick me up from my office at 10 a.m., Veer. I will have a suitcase ready. Then take me wherever the hell you want. Give me a life which has you and only you.’

  He began to cry and so did I.

  VEER AND MIRA

  Wednesday–Thursday

  Veer

  ‘What’s in Inverness?’ Kavita asked as I busied myself packing a week’s requirements in a suitcase.

  ‘There is a seminar on advertising and something something,’ I mumbled. I couldn’t look Kavita in the eye and she was getting uncomfortable with my evasive answers.

  ‘What do you mean “something something”? You don’t even know what it is and you want to drive all the way across the country to Inverness?’

  ‘Kavita, I need to get out of London for a while. I cannot be here. I cannot go to the office. Everything reminds me of Shazia. Please.’ I tried to say that as honestly as possible and I could see that it had the desired effect on Kavita. She could see that I was suffering.

  ‘But why can’t I come with you, Veer? Why don’t you ever allow me to step into your world of pain and help me heal you?’

  ‘Everyone has a different way of getting over pain, Kavita. I have grown up alone and I have always handled pain on my own. I know I must learn to share, but this is not a good time for me to learn. Please, I am not shutting you out. I am only doing what I think I must do to get over my agony. Please don’t make this a thing.’ I made sure I looked her in the eye as I said that, and it seemed to ease her a bit.

  She walked to me and held me in a warm embrace. ‘I understand, baby. I am sorry I am making this about me. Come back to me all happy and smiling.’