Love Lasts Forever

by Khanna, Vikrant

  ‘YOU!’ he says, pointing at the deck cadet with a scowl. ‘Come here. And you, over there…yes you, come out mother fucker. Both of you sitting behind over there, come out, enough of your company’s bullshit. When some of you will die only then will they understand.’ He spoke through gritted teeth and continued running his eyes through us. Perhaps he isn’t done yet…

  My pulse quickens and a cold sweat breaks across my forehead at the sight of his finger. It is pointing at me.

  ‘Hey you, asshole!’ I freeze. ‘You also, come out now.’

  All five of us share petrified looks with each other and then with Captain before making our way toward them. We’re all gonna die…? My breathing has grown laborious and I fight the huge lump in my throat. This can’t be happening…

  ‘Sir, please,’ Captain says, his hands back together, ‘please don’t do this.’

  His words barely register. You can’t help us Captain! No one can help us now! Within seconds my body has grown numb, my blood cold.

  The pirate yanks his gun upward and prods its barrel into Captain’s chest with all his force. Captain staggers to his feet and falls.

  ‘Captain!’ he growls. ‘Never tell us what we should or shouldn’t do, OK. Never tell us!’

  A minute later they make us stand in a line. My hands are pulled behind my back and I feel an abrasive rope around them. And then it becomes tight, really tight. Next a soft yet stinking cloth grazes across my face. Then everything goes black.

  ‘Do you have any last wish, you bastards, ha, ha?’

  With my hands tied back and eyes pressed close with a black cloth, I hear one of them sneering.

  Few minutes earlier with the cold barrel pressed behind our back all five of us were made to disembark the ship. We walked for a few minutes on what felt like soft mud under the directions of few of the pirates behind us.

  Now, standing motionless, I can feel beads of sweat dripping from my forehead. My mouth has gone completely dry. Above us the birds squawk merrily in oblivion to what’s happening below them, and there is the sound of waves crashing against the shore to my left. Other than that I can almost hear my heart pounding against my chest. I’ll die in a few minutes…All those thoughts about Aisha, a divorce with her, the scrambled pieces of Captain’s unfinished story flash in my mind. Do they really mean anything now?

  It’s weird, I thought, only when you are about to lose your life, you realize the true meaning of it.

  ‘Nobody has a last wish?’ the same pirate says again. ‘OK then, be ready to die!’

  Behind my back I clench my fists. So this is it! Goodbye Aisha!

  And then I hear a series of gun-shots.

  40. Time to get the answers

  August 2011, Somewhere in Somalia

  Until this ship I’d never heard the sound of a gun-shot. It is terrifying. More so when you can feel it directed at you. But few shots later I sense something is wrong. There isn’t a single bullet that has pierced my flesh. And then I realize it...

  They aren’t shooting at us. They are firing in the air. It is just a mock execution, perhaps meant to scare us.

  ‘Bastards!’ one of them yells. I hear them approaching us; there is the sound of shoes squishing the damp mud below. ‘We’ll not kill you so easily,’ one of them says in a hoarse voice. ‘And not now!’ he adds.

  And then they start hitting us. I wince in pain every time the hard metal strikes my body in hard, crushing blows. It’s either a rod or the gun itself. I retract behind slowly with every passing blow and the pirates follow me. Together with my screams I hear the wails of my four other companions beside me. We all plead for them to stop, but they don’t. I feel the warm, sticky fluid oozing out through my left elbow. I crash to the ground falling on my back. The blows continue.

  ‘All of you!’ one of them screams. ‘Go back on your ship and call your home and tell your families to force the company to pay us our money. Tell them that we torture you, we hit you. Tell your families to put pressure on the company, and if they still don’t pay ransom, then we’ll kill you, OK. No more firing in the air then.’

  They continue hitting interspersing the blows with their heaving kicks.

  ‘OK, do you all understand?’

  ‘Yes…yes, sir.’ All five of us cry in unison.

  When we board back our ship and enter the bridge, all heads turn to us. Hands fly to shut gaping mouths and fearful eyes greet us. I can hear a couple of feeble Thank God’s!

  The pirates had released our hands and removed the black cloth from our eyes on our way to the bridge. All five of us, I notice, have bruises and winced expressions. I have pressed my right hand tight against my left elbow to obviate loss of blood.

  The pirates lead us to the satellite phone and ask us to call our families one by one.

  ‘Hey Captain!’ one of them growls. ‘You also come here and speak to their family and the company.’ Captain skitters toward us. ‘And say that we almost killed them today.’

  Captain nods and passes me a faint smile. I can see from his pained expression he is relieved to see all of us alive. I smile back trying my best to hide my pain. He understands, comes closer, and ties a rag around my elbow. Thankfully the pirates say nothing. I resist the urge to embrace him.

  After the other four crewmembers were done sobbing and pleading on the phone, it is my turn. Calling Aisha was out of contention. I call my mother. She picks up after three rings and just my hello makes her cry. I tag along with her and recount the day’s events together with the harrowing images of the last two months. Through her tears she says she’s been calling Sahni uncle everyday and following up the case. Before I could say anything else one of them grabs the handset.

  ‘OK, enough, now,’ he says. ‘Go back to your places.’

  Sensing the opportunity I slowly follow Captain eyeing the vacant spot next to him. I crash on the floor with him on his left and heave a huge sigh. Time to get the answers to all my questions!

  Although in pain, I want him to complete his story. Next time pirates won’t shoot in the air and I don’t want to die before I get my answers.

  After all I’ve been waiting for them since the last two months.

  41. The diary

  August 2011, Somewhere in Somalia

  ‘Tell me what do you want to know?’ Captain whispers leaning into me after five minutes.

  Things have slowly settled and everyone is back at their place.

  I smile despite the pain. ‘How did you know I want to ask you something?’ I say, cradling my left elbow in my right arm. Thankfully no more blood is oozing out.

  He returns the smile. ‘Your eyes told me,’ he says, ‘the way they have been gawking at me for the last two months.’

  I chuckle and glance over my shoulder to the right. The pirates are busy smoking marijuana and nattering in their language. Some of our crewmembers are trying to catch some sleep while others are just twiddling around.

  ‘So then tell me,’ I say, settling my eyes back at Captain.

  ‘How’s the pain?’ he says, motioning toward my elbow.

  ‘Manageable,’ I say. ‘At least now I’ve something to put my mind to, the pain I mean, better than sitting idle.’

  He grins. ‘I wish I could have stopped them.’

  ‘Nobody could have, sir,’ I say. ‘They are ruthless.’

  He nods and eyes me intensely. A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. ‘So tell me,’ he says. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Everything!’ I reply. ‘When these motherfuckers boarded’ – I nod toward the pirates – ‘you were telling me you signed the divorce papers and left Nagpur forever. So what happened after that? You told me you never met her after your divorce, then why do you still love her? I mean it’s been three decades now since that incident. And please sir, please tell me where is your mistake, because honestly, I don’t see any. And yeah’ - I scratch my eyebrows awkwardly – ‘if you loved her so much, then why did you guys not get back together?’
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  The smile vanishes from his face instantly and gives way to a solemn expression, and very soon a morose countenance takes over. Parallel lines form on his forehead as deep as a fissure and he immerses himself in thoughts. He takes a deep breath and glances away from me. I follow his gaze and wait. Finally after what seems like an eternity, he glances back at me and clears his throat.

  ‘I’ll answer your last question first,’ he says.

  I nod.

  ‘I learnt few years after my divorce…that…um…’ He wipes a little tear forming at the edge of his eyes. ‘…that…she died.’ He looks away.

  My eyes widen. There is a prickling sensation at the back of my neck and I cock my head to the other side. I wouldn’t say I am completely shocked at the revelation, part of me had anticipated this, but if that was the case, I am more confused now. Why does he love her then? I swallow hard and throw an apologetic expression. He sniffles and pulls up a strong face, turning back at me.

  ‘Sir, um…then why do yo-’

  ‘Wait a second,’ he says, rooting through his navy blue blazer. ‘Here, this will answer your other two questions.’

  He hands me a diary. In an instant I recognize it. It is the same old, tattered diary I saw on his desk that afternoon. I accept it and wonder how a dirty thing as this will answer any of my questions. He excuses himself for the washroom, not without the permission of the pirates, of course.

  I lean back against the wall and gingerly open his diary.

  42. Shikha’s diary

  August 2011, Somewhere in Somalia

  When I first held the diary, I thought it belonged to Captain. But instead his wife wrote it.

  Why has he been in possession of her diary for so long? I jerk off the thought and scan through it. The first entry was made on the tenth of July, 1974. A flowery writing in blue ink greets my eyes.

  10th July, 1974

  Wow! That’s exactly what I feel at the moment. Finally, finally he said those three golden words to me. I had been waiting and waiting, and today when he finally said ‘I love you’ I’ve realized there’s absolutely nothing else in this world I could ask for.

  Saying it with a rose was even better. I completely loved the gesture. Although I must add when he moved closer to me, I did feel nervous, but when his soft lips touched my forehead, I realized what a sinking heart feeling feels like. I huddled my body in his, feeling his breath, and then, damn, came the rain.

  Today has to be one of the best days of my life. Hope to see many, many more days like these.

  Love you so much Shekhar!

  Okay, so the bitch did love him after all. Good to know that. I quickly flick through the pages to find something interesting and more importantly that answers my questions. As of now there isn’t anything noteworthy in them, just some random notes about their dates around the city of Nagpur, how much he loved her, about their orphanage, none of which is new to me. Captain had already told me the most of it. Still, I can’t stop myself from reading each and every word of it.

  12th October, 1980

  Absolutely nothing could have gone even a shade better today. I got married, on my birthday. When the magistrate called out ‘Congrats you are married’, I knew it then that my life has changed forever. Oh God, I have always wanted to be Shekhar’s wife, even that day, few years back, when our teacher had asked me. I still remember saying Shekhar bhaiya’s wife and everyone had burst out laughing. I would always remember that day and then, of course, today.

  But who says dreams don’t come true, of course they do, if they are pure and straight from the heart. I can never thank the Almighty enough.

  Love you so much Shekhar!

  ‘Hey Ronit,’ Captain tousles my hair. ‘So where have you reached so far?’

  ‘Oh!’ I look up. ‘You have been in there a long time.’ I nod in the direction of the washroom. ‘I’ve just reached your marriage part.’

  ‘Good.’ He plunks down beside me.

  I run my eyes quickly through the words. I must admit I am growing damn impatient. Everywhere I can see her thanking him for flowers, for being so loving and supportive, and for understanding her. At one place she even said he has to be the best husband in the world. So then why the divorce…?

  I continue reading.

  12th January, 1981

  Another of my most special days today - our first quarterly anniversary! And I can’t believe Shekhar took it so seriously. From where does he get these beautiful ideas? The roses in shape of hearts, those wonderful gifts, and, Oh my God, what a beautiful letter that was! How could I ever be so blessed? Perhaps whatever God took from me when I was a child, he’s returning a thousand times over.

  I loved the way his eyes lit up when I told him I am pregnant. I’m sure he’s as thrilled as I am. Hopefully I can give him at least five babies as we planned earlier and live through our dream of a big family.

  Love you so much Shekhar!

  I flick the pages further. In the following notes she’d written how psyched up both of them were for the pregnancy. She’d written some tentative names of boys and girls, and then if twins, if triplets and so on…I turn the pages quickly. Still nothing. Nothing that would educe a sigh, pop my eyes out, make my hairs stand, or anything of the ilk. Just the general happy go lucky stories, I found rushing my eyes through.

  And just then something caught my eyes.

  43. Shikha’s diary, continued

  August 2011, Somewhere in Somalia

  5th February, 1981

  For the past few weeks I was having a headache. I checked up my temperature regularly, but surprisingly I wasn’t down with fever. It somehow increased in the mornings as I woke up and subsided as the day progressed. Thinking of it as a side effect of pregnancy, I let it go. But then for the last few days the pain had increased substantially, so today, I thought of visiting a doctor and getting a checkup done. At first I thought I should wait for Shekhar till the weekend, but then decided against it.

  After hearing my symptoms, the doctor did a few tests, and then eyed me gloomily. I asked him if everything is alright, but his expression offered otherwise.

  As I write this, I shudder to even think why all this happened.

  I have a tumor in my brain. The doctor told me it’s incurable and no treatment can save me. I have one-two months left.

  Maximum three.

  10th February, 1981

  Today is the worst day of my life. After my first visit few days back, I visited another doctor, and then another. But my worst fear was confirmed when the results were same. Instead they told me another thing – I should get an abortion done. Being just two months pregnant now, there is no way I could be living for that long – six, seven more months - they said. So after contemplating it for the past two days, I got it done.

  My heart is heavy and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop my tears. I can’t breathe, I can’t move. I don’t know what should I do? I don’t even want to tell anything to Shekhar about this. I don’t know what he’ll do to himself. But then I have to tell him someday...

  I love you so much Shekhar, please, please help me.

  13th February, 1981

  Shekhar should never find out what happened to me. If he does, what will he do without me few months from now? I’m sure he’ll never move on and spend the rest of his life alone. He’ll be shattered and devastated and I can’t let that happen to him.

  So I have decided something. I will not tell about my disease to anyone. No one! Not even Swati. But that’s not the hard part. I have decided something else as well.

  I have to make him fall out of love with me.

  15th February, 1981

  Today we had our first fight. I had placed my abortion papers with some of his papers in the bed-side drawer. I had hoped he’ll definitely notice them. And thankfully he did. I’d also thought about the reason I’d give him when asked for it. He should hate me for it.

  Although I should feel miserable about it, but instead, I’m h
appy, happy for Shekhar. This is the first of my many steps. I have still a long way to go. By the time I’m taking my last breath, he should hate me completely so he never thinks about me for the rest of his life.

  Sorry Shekhar, I love you so much but I have to do this.

  09th March, 1981

  Oh God, I hate myself for calling his Baba and him a loser. I’m so, so sorry Shekhar. I didn’t mean a word. I hope I could tell you this but unfortunately I can’t. Please forgive me. You are my hero, the best person I’ve ever known, and I have such deep respect for your Baba. I don’t need money Shekhar; I don’t even care about it. I just want to live with you. But as simple as that sounds, it’s not possible.

  I wish I could stop fighting with you and hug you and cry with you that our relationship wouldn’t last longer. But I can’t get selfish. I have to make you hate me. I have to live the last phase of my life alone, so that you can live peacefully after me.

  Once again, I’m sorry Shekhar, I’m very sorry. I love you so much, please forgive me.

  26th March, 1981

  Oh Shekhar, really sorry for not being a good wife, for not fulfilling my duty. I do realize I don’t cook for you and I’m not carrying out any household chores. I’m really sick, my head is throbbing with pain, and I feel so dizzy. I know you think that I’m faking this, but trust me my love, I’m not. I love you so much and would love to take care of you. I’m missing our meals together, in the same plate, you feeding me, I feeding you, talking and laughing for hours.

  I don’t mean a word of what I said today. I know you didn’t marry me to have your food cooked and have someone to look after your house. I purposely said those words to instigate you. I’m so sorry Shekhar, so, so, sorry.