VIBGYOR

by Keerthana Jayaraj

  The old woman poked her head out through the kitchen door.

  “I know its late Shiva but…Your father’s not here yet and…”

  “Oh I had my lunch.” Shiva said brightly. “It was great. I went to the Cuisine.” The old woman looked shocked.

  “The Cuisine?? Isn’t that the place your Dad holds business meetings?? You went there alone??” Shiva laughed as she made towards her bedroom.

  “No one told me ladies are not supposed to eat alone.”

  Shive flung herself on to her bed fully dressed. She fished out her cellphone from her hand bag and started to dial furiously. Then, with a great deal of force she pressed the green button. I touched the cellphone automatically.

  The girl who answered at the other end was all too familiar.

  “Hello??”

  “Shivani.”

  Shivani said curtly, her lips twisted into a rather nasty smile.

  “Oh!”

  “Cat got your tongue?? Miss Anasuya or rather…Would be Mrs. Nandan??”

  The taunting tone dripping malice didn’t suit Shivani at all. It was a bit obvious that she was putting on an act. One of the disadvantages of being nice I suppose. Taunting refuse to sound natural.

  “I suppose you think you scored one over me?” Now that was a taunt! Coming from the rosebud lips of Anasuya, it was as natural as it could get. The poison was there, in just the right amount. The tone was just right and the ‘I don’t care’ attitude reigned on top. Being evil does have its advantages… They sure know how to use the tongue and voice box to their fullest advantage. “I should think so…” Shivani shot back. “Your date wasn’t cool was it? And I’m sure…Any sane would have doubts about this stalking theory…”

  “Shut up!”

  “You know something? You are disgusting. And believe it nor not that makes me happy. I wish you all the best with Nandan. You two deserve each other.” An angry push on the red button. Poor cellphone. I’m sure he didn’t like all this rough treatment. I chucked as I imagined the phone making a face, screaming. “Cut it out! I didn’t offend you.” Shiva turned over on her back, smiling at the ceiling fan. A yellow did a somersault and jumped out through her nose. She saw me and one somersault later, she was at my side.

  “Who’s the girl over there??”

  “Shivani.” I replied.

  The yellow did a few somersaults around the room, as I watched. Shiva had closed her eyes, the smile still fixed on her face. It was as if she was recalling a pleasant dream. She groped under the bed blindly finally finding the felt book.

  “Shakti…”

  She hugged it, a single tear dripped out the corner of her eyes. “I’m happy darling…I won’t cry anymore…I…I…She’s a witch and he’’ll learn….He’ll….” “Shiva???”

  A terrified voice came from the doorway, startling Shiva into dropping her book. “What are you doing?”

  “Oh Mom…”

  Shiva sat up to pick the felt book from the floor.

  “I was speaking to her. To Shakti.”

  “Shiva!!!! What…”

  “It’s ok, Mom.”

  Shiva said as she got up from the bed. “I’m just so happy today…so happy.” She threw herself on the old woman, engulfing her in a bear hug.

  “It makes me happy to feel that…” she laughed, hysterically. “It’s not happily ever after but happily never after.”

  “Shiva…Shiva…” The poor white faced woman, shook her daughter several times, her wrinkled fingers trembling. Tears blossomed at the sides of her eyelids. I felt a chill, as I saw the madness dancing in Shiva’s eyes.

  “Shiva…SHIVA!!!”

  Shiva started, her eyes darting here and there. She withdrew from her mother, her face white.

  “What happened to you dear??”

  I lingered nearby, staring at Shiva as the colour slowly returned to her face. Poor thing…

  “Nothing Mom…” She said quickly. “I just heard something today and it made me happy.” “It made you happy…”

  The woman whispered, horror rippling inside her lackluster eyes. “Shiva…What…” “Devi!!!”

  “Oh! Your father is home.”

  The woman hurried off, obviously towards her kitchen, as Shiva jumped back into bed, hugging the felt book fiercely. I could smell the love emanating from her…It was sweet like a rose…bright as a sunflower…fragrant like a jasmine….The salty tears that leaked through her closed eye lids were hot and refreshing, like coffee the humans loved so much.

  I don’t know what made me do it. I didn’t debate doing it in my head. I didn’t make plans either. I just did. A pen was grinning at me from the desk...inviting me to grab it…… To do it.

  I picked it up, moved towards Shiva, gently prying her hands away from the felt book. Then, on the cover, taking care not to mess up, I started to write. When I was done, there were a new set of neatly printed letters near the name Shakti

  I LOVE YOU, MOM.

  The pen fell to the ground with the mildest of click. Shivani looked up startled. Her eyes widened when she saw the writing on the book… “Shakti???”

  Her voice shook as she called softly “Shakti?????”

  I sat down next to her, putting my arm around her.

  “I’m here.”

  What!!! What was I saying? Since when…It took a while to calm myself. But when I finally did, I came to one decision that made sense at that time. Perhaps it was her mad laugh…Perhaps it was her crushing grief…The sympathy I felt for her grew so great. It nearly suffocated me.

  I became Shakti. Shakti who died before she saw the world. The piece of flesh disposed off in a hospital. The piece of flesh Shiva heaped her dreams on. I hugged her like she hugged her mother. Hugged till she could feel me. Then I wrote unseeing letters with my finger on her hand.

  Be strong.

  Shiva opened her mouth but no sound came. Her scared eyes rolled around just as a choked sound escaped her lips. “Sh…”

  I took her hand, squeezing it gently.

  “I’m here. I’m here with you.”

  I was rather surprised to see Shiva climbing the elegantly winding staircase that night. I had always thought the upstairs as Mr. Raghunath’s world- a mixture of workroom, study etc, off limits of the ladies of the house. But as I arrived there for the first time, I realized how wrong I was.

  It was true there was a study. But it was just a small room on the side. The greater part of the first floor was a locked room opposite the study. Shiva took the silver key hanging on a nail beside the door and inserted it into the rusted doorknob. It squealed painfully. She sighed and gritted her teeth. Gripping the key tight in hand, she turned it slowly.

  The doorknob squealed again just as the door creaked. I was curious enough about this room without the eerie locked out feel. It was like Shiva herself –plain like the locked door, something else on the inside. And it was the insides that worried me.

  The door opened. Dead wind gushed out like an escaped prisoner. I took several steps back, as the scent hit me full in face. A mixture of loneliness, isolation…whatever. The whole point was that it was not nice not even bearable. Even to a spirit like me. I could make out the silhouette of bookshelves, stuffed tight with thick dusty books. In a corner there was a mish match of shadows, a few too many things thrown together. A layer of dust rose and wafted towards Shiva’s face as she stepped inside. She coughed wildly for a moment and sneezed.

  The walls around coughed and sneezed right back. The sound was oddly gloating. Click. The lights turned on and with them was gone the horror-flick mood. Not that I was complaining or anything. I know I’m a spirit and all but creepiness doesn’t appeal to me. Now that the room was well lit, I could step inside and appreciate it for what it was.

  It was a library. A small personal library with just two rows worth of bookshelves and just one desk adorned with a table lamp. Shiva’s eyes were positively dancing with joy as they scanned the room, taking in titles of the book. She strode
around the bookshelves, a new spring in her steps, caressing a few volumes lovingly. I took a look at the names of the books, that Shiva exhibited a special interest in.

  Wuthering Heights

  Othello

  Jane Eyre

  Pride and Prejudice

  Macbeth

  King Lear

  The Trial

  Anna Karenina

  The Golden Notebook

  Hamlet

  The covers of the books looked a bit too dry to me. I tried touching Othello, and withdrew my hand right back. Murder…Blind rage…Heartless manipulation…Pretty dark stuff. But then, humans are dark. I looked up the name of the writer and recognized him from one of the books I also found in Shiva’s bedroom. Hmmm… Pretty intelligent human if you ask me. He had that peculiar ‘sight’ which humans belittle by calling artist’s vision.

  The curious shadow was actually a collection of unceremoniously dumped items almost all of them broken. Shiva was bending over them, picking up something and almost all of them broken. Shiva was bending over them, picking up something and looking at it tenderly. I moved closer. A broken photo frame…It had been gold once but now, black lines intertwined over the gold like a spider’s web. Two four-eyed people smiled crookedly through the cracked glass. A distorted image of Shiva and her husband.

  “Huh???”

  A smell made me gasp and move closer. It wasn’t a very strong smell. I was sure Shiva couldn’t sense it. A strange mix of metal and decaying garbage. “Ah!” I would have screamed if I hadn’t held myself. Embedded in the cracks in the glass were dry brown streaks. I had little doubt about what it was. And it had not gotten there from someone simply cutting their finger on the glass.

  Shiva’s fingertips ran over them, slowly, deliberately. Her eyes appeared unfocused, as if she was remembering something unpleasant. I stared at it apprehensively before I attempted to touch it. I don’t know why – there was no physical resemblance – reminded me of a furnace. A mass of coal and ashes, sizzling ferociously.

  “Hey!”

  I gasped and jumped at the bubbly noise. It was just the yellow. She had simply followed us. “You were too busy to chat.”

  She said, in an infuriatingly cheerful voice. “What’s the big deal?”

  “See for yourself.”

  I pointed at the picture frame. It may have been a bit abrupt but I fully intended to give the yellow a good spook.

  “Wow! Someone’s been careless.” The yellow exclaimed, after sniffing at the stuff for a second.. “What a garbage dump! And in such a nice place too.” Ugh! I forgot I was dealing with a yellow.

  “Take a closer look at the broken photo frame in her hand.” I hissed.

  “The picture frame???? Oh well…Sure…”

  She made an obnoxious noise as she danced towards Shivani.

  “What’s up with the picture frame? It’s just old and…”

  Her voice trailed away.

  “Now you smell it?”

  The yellow leaned towards the frame and made a big show of smelling. I should have guessed her response then. Yellows…They may be harmless but they are the very definition of annoying brats.

  “Someone cut their finger on the broken glass.” She shrugged. “So what’s the big deal??” There are some retorts that are better not made. Not because you approve of the things said but simply because they often lead to long, futile arguments with stubborn, less intelligent beings.

  “What’s the big deal?”

  “Go away.”

  I clenched my fists and turned back towards Shivani. She had set down the frame and was now picking up something from inside a long cardboard box. At first, I didn’t understand what it was. A cloth…tattered around the edges… Huge gashes here and there… There were several spots of blood too, particularly on the golden border.

  It was only when Shiva draped it loosely around her body that I realized it was… “She has an odd taste in clothes.”

  The yellow said, dissolving into laughter.

  “Shut up!” I snapped. At the same moment, my eyes fell again on the wedding photo. “Oh my!!!!”

  It was as if electricity shot through me. The colour(wine red)…The elaborate golden embroidery… “Who treats a wedding sari this way?”

  I whispered to myself.

  “Can you enlighten me on what’s going on?”

  The yellow was standing by my side. Judging by her question, she had also made the same deduction. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

  The sari dropped down on the picture frame in an undignified heap. Shiva picked up one other item from the mess – a paper suffering from third degree burns. It was a wonder the thing didn’t fall apart and disperse into the air once Shiva’’s tender fingers made contact with it.

  For a moment, she stared at it, a desperate yearning in her eyes. Then…In one quick moment the sheet was crumpled up and collapsed into a mass of ashes in her hand. “No…Not any more…!!!!!!!!!!!”

  Shiva screamed, as she threw the ashes on the ground. She would have stamped on it too if she hadn’t restrained herself.

  “She has really lost her marbles, hasn’t she??? Let’s just get out of here….” The yellow almost skipped out of the door but I stopped her. She didn’t look very happy about it.

  “I don’t know about you but I’m not staying behind in a creepy room with a deranged woman.”

  “Relax Goldy.” I said, in a soothing voice. “Her name is Shivani and she is not deranged.” “I wouldn’t take your word on that.”

  “Ok..Ok…Maybe she’s a bit off now, but trust me, there’s a reason.”” “Care to elaborate??”

  “If you promise not to open your mouth till I’m done talking.”

  Surprisingly enough, the Yellow or Goldy as I prefer to call her, kept her word. She was a good listener, groaning gasping and oohing at the right times when I recited my adventures on earth since day one. But she did look a bit baffled when I was done.

  “Why aren’t you doing anything? Isn’t it time….””

  “To wreck havoc and break up Nandan’s engagement? Sure…I could do that…” “Why don’t you? What are you waiting for?”

  “The story…I can’t go around like a wrecking ball without…”

  “Knowing what is going on. Ok…I get it.” Goldy looked thoughtful for a while. She cocked her head to one side and murmured something I couldn’’t hear. “What??”’

  “Will you let me help you?”

  Now, that was unexpected. Especially from a yellow, who usually prefers to dance around and enjoy till their brief spell on earth was over. I didn’t know how to respond or exactly what answer to give. A yellow didn’t exactly make a good partner. But she looked so keen and eager that it was not exactly easy to say no.

  “You can hang around.”

  The jumped high into the air and pumped her fist.

  “Wow! Thanks Violet.”

  “Shakti.” I corrected.

  Goldy looked confused.

  “Why are you calling yourself that?” She asked. “That’s…….That’s her daughter’s name isn’t it?” Explaining something like that to a yellow was bound to get complicated. She had eaten and digested Shiva’s story(or at least the things I knew) pretty well but I didn’t think she would accept painting myself as Shiva’s daughter.

  “I like the name.” I said sheepishly. “Just call me that, Goldy.” Goldy shrugged. She had already begun to fade a little bit. Her brilliant colour had become the yellow of a cloud obscured sun. I had a feeling that I’d be partner-less in a few days.

  Sounds of a whispered conversation came from the study. It was a woman who was speaking but I could only make out from snippets of what she was saying. Something about ‘illness’ and ‘doctor’.

  “Stay here.” I told Goldy, as I made my way towards the study. Mr. Raghunath’s study was in sync with whatever I knew about him. The narrow mindedness…The chauvinism….The unhealthy adherence to tradition……the inflated sense of sel
f importance…

  A huge heavy set desk sat neatly in front of a tiny glass window, like a king holding court. The shiny black leather chair, heavily cushioned cast a grim shadow over the desk, keeping most of the light out from the room. The single bookshelf visible to its left was full of glossy volumes on a variety of business related topic. To the right, was a thoroughly worn out desk supporting a rusty typewriter.

  Shiva’s Mom pounded the keys, as a paper made its way out.

  “Are you listening?” She asked impatiently.

  “As per the annual report of the business year…”

  Shiva’s father swirled around on his chair after a glance at his laptop. “2013-2014 we are yet to see any profits from the joint venture with your group…” “Are you listening?”

  The man turned his chair to face her. The expression on his face wasn’t pretty.

  “Do you intend to finish this paper today? Or do I have to hire someone else to do it?” “I will…But…”

  “Get to work or get out.”

  The woman rose from the chair briefly only to sink down again.

  “If you won’t…just allow….””

  “No.” He said curtly. “I am not taking my daughter to a mental hospital. Neither are you.” Mental Hospital! For a moment, I wondered if it’ll come to that. Whatever Shiva had gone through had messed up her mind pretty bad. But did it really mean…No! Not if someone reached out to her and helped her. Apparently, that was the very thing that was not happening. An angry father……A mother too scared to back up her daughter…

  “It’s not a…”

  “No.”

  The note of finality in his voice troubled me. So did the way he said that ‘no’ while staring deep into the laptop screen. Did that thing mean more to him that his daughter and wife? I had a feeling that the answer to that question was a resounding ‘‘Yes’.

  The clicking of the keys began again. The woman looked at him a few times as she typed, a haunting desperation in her eyes. But the man stared steadfastly into his computer screen. Only when she was gone did he look up.

  “No…” He muttered eerily into the emptiness around him. “No…No…” “Vio…Shakti! Would you…”