Red Suits You

by Novoneel Chakraborty

  Novoneel Chakraborty

  RED SUITS YOU

  PENGUIN BOOKS

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Follow Penguin

  PROLOGUE

  I remember it all but vaguely. Like I don’t have a picture of it in my mind but I’m sure this is what happened.

  I was driving. The roads were curvy. It was drizzling. On one side there were the mountains with huge boulders parked at different points near the earth below, as if waiting to roll down, and on the other there was nothing but an abyss.

  She was sitting right beside me. Our seat belts were on. We were driving at a normal speed. I told her I was hungry. She took out the sandwiches she had packed for us from a box. She brought one close to my mouth, I opened it, but she pulled away and took a bite herself with an amused smile. I joked that it’s not good to trouble a hungry soul. She shot back about what kind of hunger I was talking about. I clarified right then it was a stomach hunger. The other hunger would have to wait till we reached the tent we had booked at a height overlooking the snow-capped mountains. We’d been engaged for half a year now and we wanted to celebrate our six months by making love at a high altitude where the air was pure and the sights were breathtaking.

  Once again she brought the sandwich to my mouth. I turned in a way that I could bite it before she took it away again, if at all. And that’s when it happened. I lost control of the car because it hit some boulders. Before I knew it, half the car was hanging between land and air. She panicked. So did I. But it was me who calmed her down, and promised her that I would save her. I took off my seat belt. Then slowly, without adding any pressure to the car, I unlocked the door and climbed out. There was land on my side. Unlike hers. My plan was to pull her to my side and help her move out. I didn’t give a damn about the car at the time. The moment I got out, I asked her to take off her seat belt. She did. I asked her to take a deep breath, stretch her hand towards me and make a move. She did. Except the moment her hand was in mine, the car tilted forward. In the next second her hand slipped out of mine. I screamed out her name. She screamed out mine. The car had plunged into the abyss.

  She was gone. Right in front of me. Forever.

  CHAPTER 1

  Kanav Raghuwanshi was quiet. As he felt his seat being reclined to a sit-up position, he realized in the last one year he had lost count of how many times he had narrated the same thing to his psychiatrist turned friend and confidante, Anahita Sengupta. His psycho-analytical sessions usually happened in her personal clinic but today she had called him to the hospital she was attached in.

  ‘You must be wondering why I keep asking you the same thing again and again?’ Anahita said, taking her seat behind a big wooden table.

  ‘Maybe,’ Kanav quipped.

  ‘It’s because I want you to feel you are done with it. You see, the more we confront the past, the more we are done with it.’

  Kanav looked up at her, his eyes piercing, and said, ‘I don’t think I will ever be done with Kashika.’

  Kashika was his fiancé. They were engaged for six months when the dreadful accident had taken her away.

  ‘I know you won’t. But you’ll have to. And this isn’t the first time I’m telling you this,’ Anahita said.

  ‘I’m trying.’

  ‘No, you’re not. Do you know what my boyfriend thinks?’

  Kanav looked at her expectantly.

  ‘That you and I are having an affair.’

  ‘What? That’s absolutely false. I mean I know we drink together at times but that …’

  ‘Ah, chill. It’s a good thing if he thinks that way. It keeps the relationship on the edge.’ Anahita winked at him.

  ‘Whatever works, right?’

  ‘Whatever works! And now it’s time to show you something,’ Anahita said and pulled open the drawer. She picked up a pamphlet and gave it to Kanav.

  ‘Speed dating?’

  ‘I don’t want to hear a no. You are going into this event and coming out with a girlfriend. Believe me, Kanav, you will never be able to come to terms with Kashika’s death. I know it. Moving on doesn’t necessarily mean you have to forget her. It means to accept reality,’ Anahita said. Someone knocked at the door.

  ‘Come in,’ Anahita said. A nurse peeped in and said, ‘The old woman is acting hyper.’

  ‘I’ll be right there. Just excuse me,’ Anahita told Kanav and followed the nurse out of the room.

  Kanav glanced at the pamphlet again. It was a speed-dating event arranged by Coffee Jar, a popular café in the city. There would be a lot of youngsters who were single like him. Single and lonely? He wondered if Anahita’s words rang true. Was it time to move on?

  Kanav worked as a software engineer in Pune. He’d resigned after the accident to take a break from work, and also because of his mental health. He booked a flat at a posh society in Aundh, where he planned to live with Kashika after their marriage. Now he lived there alone. Both his parents were dead and his distant family lived in Udaipur. He had little connection with them. Initially, after the accident, he did keep in touch with Kashika’s parents in Mumbai but slowly the frequency of calls decreased. His life, post Kashika’s demise, was simple: eat–sleep–meet Anahita, at other times exercise–repeat. And yet, only he knew how complicated it was, for Kashika was on his mind twenty-four-seven.

  Once he was back in his flat in Aundh, it was already evening.

  He freshened up and feeling hungry, went to the kitchen. He was on a six-meals-a-day routine and had asked his cook to keep portioned meals ready for him. He noticed a plate full of neatly sliced sandwiches. Kanav prepared some black coffee for himself. As he sat down to watch Netflix, he sipped on the coffee and took a bite from the sandwich. He frowned. He lifted the upper piece of bread and noticed there was grated cheese on top but underneath there was cucumber, tomato and carrot pieces cut into heart shapes.

  Just like Kashika used to slice them whenever she made sandwiches.

  CHAPTER 2

  Kanav immediately called up his maid. She didn’t pick up. The second call announced the phone was switched off. He made a mental note of asking her what on earth had made her cut the veggies into heart-shaped ones. Chances were that it was a coincidence, but a bizarre one at that. Even Kashika used to do the same. Kanav had a disturbed sleep that night.

  In the morning he was woken up by the doorbell. He went to open the door—and found nobody. He was about to shut the door when he noticed two things. First, there was an empty cup by the door step inside which was a note. Second, he saw the neighbour’s door was ajar. The floor had four flats each. And from the time Kanav had shifted, the one opposite to his remained locked at all times. This was the first time he saw it was open. Was it the neighbour who had pressed the door bell, he thought, and picked up the cup. There was a note scribbled on a piece of paper. It read: milk? Kanav stared at it and then understood the obvious. He went to his kitchen along with the empty cup and poured some milk into it. He kept it exactly where it was by the door step. Then he closed his door and curiously stood behind it with his right eye on the peephole. There was no movement. He heard his phone ring. It was in the bedroom. He let it ring. It stopped. Then it rang again. Someone kept calling continuously. Irked, Kanav went inside to realize it was a wrong number. When he came back and looked through the peephole, the neighbour’s door had locked itself. He opened his door and noticed that the cup full of milk was gone.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he murmured inquisitively and cl
osed the door. Kanav then waited for the maid but she didn’t come. Her phone was still switched off. His newest work during the day was to show up for job interviews at different software companies. He had been to five companies in all but was yet to land a job. He was scheduled for another interview but he changed his mind when he noticed the speed-dating pamphlet on his dining table which he had brought home the previous night. Perhaps Anahita is right, he considered.

  Two hours later he found himself at the event, at the ground floor of Phoenix Mall in Viman Nagar. It was a gala affair with youngsters flooding the place. There was a lot of humdrum amidst which Kanav registered his name. There were a total of eighty-nine people, girls and boys, who registered for the event. The process was simple. There were tables with buzzers on them where girls and boys would sit. There were two chairs at every table. Two minutes would be allotted to them. If both felt that they would like to date, the couple should press the buzzer and move out while those remaining would continue until they found their dates or till the number of people was exhausted. The game began. Every two minutes there were rings of the buzzer with spectators cheering on the ones who were still continuing with the game. Eleven buzzers later Kanav found himself sitting in front of a girl who was pretty normal except for a red streak of highlighted hair, which gave her personality an edge. She told him her name was Meenakshi. She worked as a resident DJ at Oak Lounge while pursuing her post graduation from Symbiosis. Kanav couldn’t guess why he or she hit the buzzer after their allotted two minutes. Neither said it, but as luck would have it they both decided to hit the buzzer.

  Once they left the venue, Meenakshi and Kanav went to another café at FC road where they could chit-chat at length without much hullaballoo. Kanav found out Meenakshi was a talkative girl. But in a good way. She seemed to have no reservations about telling her plans to him. It seemed to him she wanted to do everything and the interesting thing was she had even planned when she would do it. This was in stark contrast to what he had become in the last one year. He no longer made plans. He had made a lot of them with Kashika but all of them had turned into a big nothing. After dropping Meenakshi off at the Symbiosis women’s hostel, Kanav came back to his apartment in Aundh. But she had made him promise her that he would visit Oak Lounge on the weekend to see her play.

  As he walked into his building, he messaged Anahita. Finally found myself a date. Her name is Meenakshi.

  Anahita responded. Wow! Great. Now my boyfriend will believe that we aren’t dating. Let’s meet up soon to celebrate.

  Yeah. She is a DJ at Oak Lounge. Let’s meet there this Saturday?

  Done. Happy for you.

  Thanks. It’s because of you.

  Any time.

  Kanav took the elevator to reach his floor. As he was about to unlock his door, he heard a sound. It echoed. He could tell it was the sound of a gong, the kind that used to come from the prayer bowl Kashika used during her spiritual chanting. Kanav turned around and went to the neighbour’s flat. The door was locked. He pressed the doorbell.

  CHAPTER 3

  Kanav kept waiting for the door to open. But it didn’t. The sound from the prayer bowl kept reverberating. In the end, out of sheer frustration, Kanav went downstairs. He checked the name plates of all the registered residents in the building. Flat number 606 had the name: Mr Deepak Dixit. Kanav frowned. He was sure he didn’t know anyone by that name. He went up. The sound of the bowl was no longer echoing. But he noticed there was a dust bin outside the flat now, and something was sparkling inside it. Kanav went to it. There was a pair of shining red stilettos. He picked them up. The size and design were similar to the ones he’d gifted Kashika once. The only difference was this pair had broken heels. With a deep frown, he put the pair back in the dust bin. Of course, it has to be a coincidence, Kanav thought, but remained pensive throughout the night.

  Meenakshi messaged him the next day saying that her classes were off and they could meet up if he wanted to. Kanav agreed. They met up at Starbucks in Aundh. It amazed Kanav how Meenakshi always had something to talk about. On the contrary, he had only one thing on his mind: Kashika. Though he had not yet told Meenakshi about her. He thought he would tell her when he felt his relationship with Meenakshi had become a little more serious than a casual dating thing. Kanav’s name was announced at the counter for their two frappes. He was about to take his order, when the woman in front of him turned and banged into him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he quipped. But the woman was already on her way out. Kanav realized she’d dropped something. He picked it up. It was a note. It read: I love you, K. On a hunch, he made a dash for the woman forgetting about his order. He came out into the street and looked right and left. The woman was nowhere to be seen. He crossed the street to reach a tiny paan shop. He asked the person if he had seen any woman coming out of Starbucks. The man nodded.

  Later Kanav was back at Starbucks having his frappe with Meenakshi, but still he wasn’t with her. After some time, she realized it.

  ‘I don’t think you’re listening,’ she said, finishing her frappe.

  Kanav looked at her. He knew she was right.

  ‘I’m sorry. I need to visit this friend of mine urgently,’ he said.

  ‘Sure. We can always meet when you’re mentally free.’

  Though he wanted to, he didn’t drop Meenakshi back to her hostel. She took a cab while he drove straight to Anahita’s personal clinic in Kalyani Nagar.

  Anahita studied the note while thinking of what all Kanav had told her about the suspicious neighbour. Then she spoke up, ‘So, what’s on your mind?’

  ‘I think it’s Kashika,’ Kanav said. And with that one statement Anahita felt her one-year-long treatment had been a waste.

  ‘Kanav, please! Do you even understand what you are saying? Kashika died a year ago. Alright, her dead body wasn’t ever found but we know she is dead. Nobody could survive that fall. You also know it.’

  Kanav was quiet.

  ‘And if hopes against hopes it’s her, why isn’t she approaching you directly? Why all this drama?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I know. Because it’s not Kashika.’

  There was silence. This was the first time Anahita had raised her voice in front of a patient.

  ‘Look, I’m …’ she began but was cut short.

  ‘Can we do a handwriting check on this? That will clear my doubts. I have samples of Kashika’s writing with me.’

  Anahita looked at him briefly then said, ‘Alright.’

  Though Meenakshi WhatsApped him asking him to dinner, Kanav wasn’t in the mood. He wrote back that he had to go out-of-station for a day and would call her once he was back. He stayed in his flat—in the hall, to be specific—alert to any noise coming from his neighbour’s flat. He was determined to decipher who it was who was staying in the flat. Nobody ever answered the doorbell there, nor was the guard of any help as to letting on who exactly lived there.

  When he heard the elevator door, Kanav sat up on his couch. He dashed towards his main door and looked through the peephole. Someone was either coming out or going down using the elevator. Kanav opened the door and stepped out. He immediately realized someone was going down. Before he could see who was inside the elevator, it had gone down by a floor. He turned to use the stairs when he stopped, noticing a medicine leaflet near the elevator door. He picked it up. It was aspirin—the one medicine Kashika always used to take for her mild migraine attacks. Kanav wasted no time to scamper for the stairs. He reached the ground floor before the elevator. As the elevator doors opened he was perplexed to see there was nobody inside. He wasn’t sure if the elevator had stopped somewhere in the middle of its descent. As Kanav slowly climbed back up the stairs and reached his floor he found the neighbour’s door was locked. The person will be back some time, he thought, and went inside his flat. The entire night he didn’t move from behind his main door. But nobody came. It was late during the day when he woke up, still lying beside the main door, a
nd he realized the neighbour’s door was still locked. He went down to the security guard and inquired if anyone had come in or out of flat 606. This particular guard, who was the permanent one, had been on holiday till the night before.

  ‘Yes, sir. A woman. Though I didn’t see her face,’ the old guard said.

  A hopeful smile appeared on Kanav’s face.

  The following evening Anahita called Kanav to her clinic. He knew it had to be about the handwriting results.

  ‘You found out, right?’ he asked the moment he entered her cabin.

  ‘Sit down. And yes, I found out whose handwriting it is on the note.’

  ‘Tell me it’s Kashika’s.’ Kanav’s tone was pleading, as if his life depended on it.

  ‘It’s your handwriting, Kanav,’ Anahita said.

  CHAPTER 4

  ‘You have to be joking.’ That was all Kanav could muster.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not. That’s exactly what the handwriting expert messaged me. I’d not only sent Kashika’s writing sample that you gave me but my instincts made me send yours as well for the test.’

  ‘What instincts?’ Kanav’s mild frustration had turned into anger.

  ‘I think you are stepping into the early stages of MPD, or multiple personality disorder. I will have to do some tests,’ Anahita said in a poised, professional manner.

  Kanav looked at her for a moment and then let go of a smirk.

  ‘So, you think I’m going crazy and I’m doing all of it to myself? Seriously?’

  ‘Kanav, relax.’ Anahita had only begun. She stopped because she saw Kanav stand up and walk up to the cabin’s door.

  ‘I thought you were more than a psychiatrist, Anahita,’ he said and moved out of the room.

  For most of the day Kanav sat in a bar, though he was not drinking much. Anahita called him a few times but he didn’t answer. I saw the stilettos, I saw the asprin leaflet, I heard the prayer bowl sounds and there was that woman at Starbucks who left me the note. How can she say I’m imagining all this? Kanav wondered, and it made him all the more angry. Meenakshi messaged him asking if he was free at night. The loneliness was making him irksome. He responded with a yes.