by Rohan Dahiya
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
She clutched her knees for support, not the least bothered by his grip because if he hadn’t held her then she would’ve fainted. Between catching her breath she explained that she didn’t expect to find someone at the house. The house, they turned back to see, was a shell of its former self. The walls had weathered and the colours had cracked.
“Holy shit I think I peed myself,” she huffed.
He laughed and pulled her to his chest. The sound of his racing heart put her to ease and she didn’t know or care how long they stood there.
The room was lit by an old fashioned handheld lamp that threw more shadows that actual light, he settled on the stool by the Steinway baby grand leaving her to find a seat for herself. In that particular proximity her thoughts turned to mush.
“You’re not living here are you?”
He shrugged. “It’s not like anyone comes here anymore.”
The bluish glow of the lamp matched the morbidity of the room, the house as a hole. His eyes followed hers as Sunaina took in the rest of the space, the little parlour that lay beyond the door to the left – every conceivable object, big or small, blanketed under a heavy white sheet. She craned her neck to the high ceiling where once hung a chandelier skirted with seventeen blown glass seashells. ‘An heirloom,’ his mother had remarked over her shoulder, throwing that magnetic smile to her audience as they moved to the next stop on the house tour.
And now it was just him and her surrounded by the spectral furniture set to the tunes of shuddering glass doors as a dust storm raged outside. The all-encompassing plastic that covered every surface only intensified the cold sterile atmosphere.
“I’m genuinely sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”
“It’s okay. I was just …” she turned to him, “I don’t know I just needed to get out of the house.”
“So you sneak in to other people’s houses?” he looked at her like she was crazy.
“Not often enough” the ghost of a smile played on her lips.
He hummed in amusement, but the way he bit his lip told her there was more he wanted to say.
“I didn’t know you could play the piano.” Her tone mockingly accusatory.
“It never came up.” He smiled at her sullen look. “It was just a way to keep me occupied, my dad was convinced I had ADD because that was the disability du jour. Not like I was ever any good at it.”
“So why’d you hide it from me – umm, from everyone?”
“Does it matter?” He rolled his eyes.
“Shouldn’t it?”
Lakshman sighed in exasperation with that same air of burden that left her feeling inferior. “I don’t think anything really matters anymore, Sunaina. It’s like every conversation I hear now just makes me so mad, I’m so mad all the fucking time. What kind of place is this? What am I here for?!”
His words echoed in her mind. “I know what you mean, that’s why I left too.”
“And yet, when you’re here you fit right in,” he sneered.
“Wow,” she pushed herself off the too-small stool. “You are so delusional. You think nobody notices your Comme des Garçons t-shirt just because it’s under a non-designer jacket? You think everybody’s under the impression that you’re living a bohemian backpacker’s life while supplying enough wine to knock out an army. You’re no better than any of them no matter how much you stare down your nose –”
He shut her up with a kiss too quick and awkward to have been something.
Outside the dust had settled but the storm was far from over and Sunaina looked as though she might need his windbreaker soon. Lakshman hated the idea of her walking home in the rain. He considered reaching for it, just at the foot of the piano and wrapping it around her but worried that she’d be gone before he stood up.
Sunaina was still seizing. “I should go.”
He pushed himself in her way as thunder wailed outside. Lakshman slowly shook his head and the way his eyes darkened it told her that that was it – the moment he’d reveal the big truth. She waited for him to tell her why he’d left her, the burning question hung mid air eating up every last molecule.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he sagged.
“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”
He shrugged in a way that said – that’s that. “I don’t owe any answers for breaking your heart, Sunaina.”
What he really wanted to say was – I have never known the loss of trust, I don’t know how to fill it up. He watched the pain turn to disdain in her eyes.
The spell had broken. Sunaina pushed past his pleading palms and her moist eyes. Neither the garden nor the thunderstorm scared her anymore, all she knew was she had to escape him. Because looking at Lakshman was like looking directly into the sun, even in the throes of melancholia, and she wasn’t ready to burn again. The first drops of rain hit the road as she thudded her way back to the Ashoka tree-lined pavement.
Sohrab sat waiting for her at the back porch. He had the entire conversation planned in his head and the moment he saw her running through the little entrance he imagined that she would run right into his arms. Just as he began to raise his arms she arced around him and dashed inside. He pushed himself off and made a beeline through the glossy but empty kitchen and up the stairs where Geetika was on her way down, still seething. She regarded the pair in front of her, a paused chase sequence, and narrowed her eyes at the man behind her niece. Sunaina defiantly jutted her chin out, demanding another hateful word and she left them to their games.
Sohrab caught up with Sunaina easily and grasped her shoulders imploring her to give him a chance to explain.
“Mum’s really sick, Sunaina.” His breath hitched. “She has a severely perforated bowel and needs surgery. It’s not looking good.”
A part of her wished she’d never left her bed that night.
“Dad’s lost his mind. He’s booked their flights, he’s just deaf to reason right now. Everyone’s been telling him to get the surgery done here – Asim uncle even called up his friend at Fortis – but he’s adamant about going home.”
It took her a beat to recall that home meant the other side of the world.
“They’re leaving tonight.”
“Oh,” was all she could muster.
“I want you to come with me,” his grip tightened on her wrist. “I’ll look after you and love you and god I don’t know Sunaina, I’ll never let you down.”
“Okay stop, Sohrab please. Stop before this gets too much.”
He settled halfway but the desperation in his eyes remained.
“My grandfather died because of a botched up surgery, it was nothing. A removal of the appendix. But he never made it back and dad never forgot. And on top of that, dad wants me to actively spend more time with Elina and seriously consider settling down with her.”
She brushed his hands off her arms. “Jeez why is marriage such a life goal for everyone? Do you even want to? With her?”
“NO! Sunaina, I don’t even look at her with those intentions,” he stroked her hair. “And why would I?”
“I don’t know, you two seemed friendly enough last I saw you.” She didn’t mean it. She understood his predicament. She was offering him a way out.
He closed his eyes and sagely shook his head. “Elina just needed someone to bitch her ex out to. That being said I won’t deny that it is easier to talk to her on some level because she is closer to my age.”
“Easier to talk to – than me?”
“Snap out of it” he reprimanded her. “Wherever you’re about to go right now, just stop. I’d give up talking to everyone if it meant I got to have you with me everyday.”
“But I don’t know if I can marry you.”
“And I haven’t asked you to.” He replied.
“Then why did you just ask me to run away with you?” she scowled.
“Because this is what I’m afraid of,” he gestured to the space between them.
“I’m afraid if I lose it, I don’t think it’s something I’ll ever recover from. You’re something I’ll never recover from.”
“And what if I asked you to leave everything behind and run away with me? Would you be able to do that? Leave your home, your parents, and come to me?”
He deliberated in silence. There was no hint of sarcasm to her words. He allowed the dream to replay in his head, the one where he began and ended his day holding her in his arms. He waited to see if the backdrop might change.
Sunaina held her breath without knowing it.
Sohrab dropped his eyes to their entwined fingers and her heart plummeted. With a ragged breath she felt the force of an unmitigated heartbreak, now fully convinced that she should never have left the safety of the inn.
“It doesn’t matter,” he half-smiled. “I’ll go anywhere you take me.”
“Wait, what?” she shook her head clear.
“Look I’ll be honest I never planned for any of this to happen, and I mean any of it – for Christ’s sake I came here thinking it’ll be a holiday and so far it’s been a rollercoaster not always the good kind and I don’t think I got a seatbelt.” She chuckled. “I didn’t know you’d be you. You’ve been unexpected. The best kind of surprise. But,” he paused, “there are loose ends that need tying up.”
She clocked an eyebrow in question.
“Ma’s in a critical condition, that’s just what we need to focus on right now.”
She smiled a brief sad smile. “So where does that leave us?”
“I’ll come back for you, if you’ll wait for me,” her heart soared at his words.
He kissed her hand and in the morbidity of the moment it was so absurdly valiant, Sunaina would never forget it.
“It’ll take me some time but I will come back.”
“That doesn’t answer my question though.”
“I don’t have all the answers just yet,” he shrugged plainly.
Sunaina shook her head. “We’re going in circles.”
“Can you wait for me or not?”
She nodded without giving herself time to think about it. He stood up to leave but found a hand pulling at his wrist.
“Don’t go.”
The table was too quiet.
Hassan glared at his sister as the steaming bowl of sambhar was placed on the table. Geetika on her part appraised the over-the-top brunch spread and told the maid to fry more papad. She met his eyes for a second before returning to the newspaper where she was halfway between solving the crossword and sudoku puzzles.
He turned to look at Asim and wondered how long the peace would last. The Commander lazily sipped at his third cup of tea and admired the crisp edges of the plate of vadai. Hassan looked to Dev at the sound of a throat clearing. He meaningfully shook his head once and that was enough to pacify him for the moment.
It had taken one phone call. One call that lasted seventeen minutes and fifty seconds and Tina had retracted all her demands. The divorce papers had been signed, any day a judge would approve it and that was that.
Hassan looked back at Dev and tried to discern if there was an improvement in the atmosphere since the night before, though Vir’s terse presence at the table confirmed a cease-fire for the moment. Much to his relief Geetu playfully swatted her husband’s offer for help and maybe even cracked a smile.
Vir on his part was disgusted with the way his parents were canoodling on the breakfast table. He was also wary of his grandfather’s presence, which might’ve been a comfort at one point, a source of old stories. There was always a sense of completeness at having him present on the table but now all he felt was the cold hiss of dread in his stomach. Gayatri and Surya were stupefied into reverence, swiping through their Instagram feed comparing who looked better and where people were vacationing. Surya had been restrained from shoveling down the food because it was the day of the mehendi and she had four hours of sitting still ahead of her. Kama reached forward and aligned her fork and knife, darting nervous looks around as if, like Vir, she suspected the picture perfect peace to be disrupted too soon.
Geetu pushed her paper and pen to the side with finality, brunch was about to begin with or without Sunaina. She leaned forward and took her glasses off from their perch at the tip of her nose. Hassan shivered as if doused in an ice bath, she was about to broach the topic of her bloody book again. His eyes widened at her as if to persuade her into silence. He mouthed a ‘no’ at her and she shook her head to let him know she’d already made up her mind. He kicked Kama’s foot from under the table but it didn’t garner much response, not until it was too late and Geetu was already calling attention to herself with a strange hawk.
“Daddy,” Hassan violently shook his head at her. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Vir turned to Gayatri and Surya neither of whom had bothered to look up.
“What’s happening?” Kama squinted at her.
“I think I owe everyone an apology for my behaviour, especially to you Vir. I promise from hereon it’s just happy vibes only.”
Kama slid her chair back noisily. “Well since it’s a morning of announcements I might as well throw in my fair share too.”
She walked over to the wine cooler and pulled out a prosecco.
“Kama, I think your story can wait,” Hassan grit his teeth at her.
“Nonsense. Everyone, I’m done with the first draft of my next book,” she threw out her arms grandly. “So far the editors have loved it, they’re calling it the season’s hottest horror. By god’s grace it’ll be out in a few months.”
No one joined Surya in clapping.
“You know nothing about writing fiction.”
“That’s besides the point daddy. Just be happy for me won’t you?” she shimmied over with the wine.
“What’s it about?” Dev offered. Geetu elbowed him in the gut.
“Oooh it’s a murder mystery like no other. It’s set in Darjeeling where a family of four lives with their mother and stepfather. Now the kids don’t like him because he’s a total gold digger, the mother’s like this super chic tea estate heiress. But then one day he turns up dead –”
“Or maybe they’re just being delusional and nobody actually died,” Geetu spoke through grit teeth.
“Nonsense! Anyway so what happens…”
A loud thump interrupted her speech. It was the very specific sort of noise – that of a knee bumping into a doorway. Everyone turned to see Sunaina standing red-faced at the entrance to the living room with her arms theatrically splayed.
“Morning everyone!” she sang.
“Beta it’s almost twelve in the afternoon,” Hassan looked at her with disdain.
Gayatri narrowed her eyes conspiratorially but Surya spoke up first.
“Oh it’s okay, she just had a late night ya. Let her be.”
“Late night?” Hassan looked confused.
“Late night?” Geetu echoed dangerously.
If possible Sunaina blushed a deeper red and rushed to take the empty chair next to Vir. Surya snaked a finger around the neck of her t-shirt and pulled to reveal a constellation of bruises that vanished lower into her collarbone.
“I see hickies!” she announced.
Sunaina slapped her hand away even as Gayatri offered a high-five.
“I feel so attacked right now, can you just not?”
Kama laughed once without humour. “Excuse me, what do you even know of being attacked?”
Dev bit his lip to remain stoic.
Hassan shot daggers at his daughter from across the table. “What’s going on Sunaina?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Geetu sneered. “Was it that boy?”
“What boy?”
“The ‘boy’ boy, Hassan uncle!” Surya slapped the table, laughing uncontrollably.
“Fuckin’ hell you’re such a bitch!” Sunaina turned around and slapped her across the face hard enough to knock her down.
Asim banged a fist on the table. “Girls!
Use your words not your hands. Honestly have you taught your children nothing?”
“Hey everybody! Good morning.” Sohrab walked in from the living room looking not at all freshly showered in a t-shirt last seen in Vir’s cupboard. Hassan let out a savage roar and ran toward him like a bull. On the other side of the table Surya had picked herself up and scratched out at Sunaina, knocking over the jug of water all across the mahogany table.
Sohrab didn’t have time to react. He registered the man headed toward him and drew back a fist, only aiming for a protective shot. No one in that room had anticipated that Hassan would be knocked out by a single punch to the nose. Kama screamed in horror, the prosecco already a mess around her feet. Asim’s disgusted face moved into view, unimpressed with Hassan’s antics even upside down.
Sohrab looked at him with horror. “I’m sorry. I freaked out. Are you okay?”
He looked up at Sunaina who seemed to have frozen midway in her catfight.
“Sunaina, I didn’t mean to hit him I swear.”
“Help him up, you idiot!” Asim was flipping out.
Sohrab bent forward and offered his hand to Hassan who gripped it and then with both hands secured around both of his hands, pulled himself up. But he only made it halfway. Hassan deftly bent forward and head-butted Sohrab right out the double doors that led to the backyard. Geetu let out a bloodcurdling scream as the men fell into a pile of shattered glass and wood.
“Oh hell no!” Dev bellowed.
“What the fuck have you done,” he ran out the now gaping hole in the wall and launched himself onto the struggling pair. One thick fisted punch later everyone was silent. Everyone was panting.
Surya stood whimpering into Kama’s shoulder, hand pressed onto her cheek where Sunaina had slapped her so hard the skin had blistered. She waited for Sunaina to look at her but ultimately left when she didn’t. Geetu stood conflicted between her husband and brother, and her daughter. She wondered silently if there was anyone who wanted to comfort her in that moment. The three men all bruised and bloodied in their own motley ways unfurled from each other and lay in a line like breathless planks. Hassan had landed on his right arm and could feel the broken bones swelling, though the adrenaline that still blipped through him dulled everything else.