Bhrigu Mahesh, Phd

by Nisha Singh

  ‘Is it not quite a long story?’ said inspector Chandu Srivastava. He had been listening in to the young man’s story with evident interest but pretended as if it was boring him to death. ‘But anyways, carry on.’

  ‘I am carrying on, Inspector, but not for your benefit.’ Prem Malik snapped back.

  ‘Mr. Malik, please proceed.’ Bhrigu said impatiently.

  ‘Sure. I just don’t like to be disturbed.’ he said looking furiously at the inspector who just looked away. ‘As I was saying, Savita and I would soon connect, and of that I was certain. I had broken the ice between us and it was now time to capitalize on it. One day, I got my chance when she came to teach Pranjal and he had gone to see the village fair with father. He was to come back anytime now and so she had to wait for him. That left her ample time with me alone. I gave her a glass of water and then sat next to her. I was very nervous of the awkward silence between us and somehow managed to ask her what she was doing in this village. She looked like an urbane woman and hence I thought this question was valid enough. I don’t remember what she replied to this first question of mine because I was just lost in her eyes. One thing led to the other and soon we were talking quite freely with each other. It was then that I learned that she was a widow with a son. As if that made any difference to my feelings for her. She was a single woman and that was all that I needed to know. After the removal of the first obstacle which is always the most difficult, everything went on smoothly. I became quite comfortable talking to her and soon we were good friends. At that time my holidays ended and I had to go back to Delhi. We bid each other good buys as friends. I got constant updates about her from Pranjal and could not wait to meet her again. That whole semester was consumed by my growing passion for her. My exams suffered a little because of my tender preoccupation but I was not very sorry about it.’ Here V.K Malik shook his head in the negative as if he disapproved of his son compromising his studies for as silly a thing as a crush.

  ‘The next time I came, I discovered that she had not changed a bit; the same innocent face and hypnotizing beautiful eyes shining under the luxuriant canopy of thick eyebrows…each time I saw her, I could not help but wonder how can anyone be so perfect…so beautiful.’ Prem Malik went on. I could see that he was not telling us a story anymore, but by the look in his starry eyes, he was living those memories all over again. The brat was fortunate enough to even have those memories where as I was so brutally deprived of them.

  ‘…and met me very warmly this time and also asked after my exams.’ The man was saying when my wandering mind came back to the present. ‘I was on the seventh heaven on seeing her concern for me. We were now officially friends and would often talk about Pranjal’s strength and weaknesses as far as subjects were concerned. To make the conversations a little livelier, I asked after her hobbies. The next think I knew, I was confessing my love to her.’

  CHAPTER 34

  A Perfect Picture

  ‘What?’ I shouted. ‘Just like that?!’

  ‘Yes.’ he replied, a little embarrassed. ‘I was already struggling with my intense feelings for her. I…I just could not control myself any longer. The three words came out on their own, like a reflex action.’

  ‘And what did she reply?’ I asked again, not knowing why I was feeling so cantankerous.

  ‘She…she was taken aback, as I knew she would.’ he replied, quickly. ‘I had given her such a shock. She did not say anything but quietly left. I thought I had offended her and that she did not like me and with this terrible realization I was almost convulsing with pain on the bed that night. The mental torture was far greater than any physical pain that I had till date suffered and I swear I could almost scream with pain. Next day, I waited impatiently for her. I…I wanted to apologize…I was so afraid to lose her that I was happy to just salvage our friendship but…but the reaction that I got surprised me and left me feeling as if the nothing had ever happened between us.’

  ‘And how was that?’ This question came from Chandu Srivastava’s quarter. He was listening so attentively to the narrative of the young man that his eyes almost dazzled with sheer curiosity.

  ‘I was getting to that part. No need to jump the gun.’ replied Prem Malik curtly. ‘As I was saying, Savita met me the other day as if nothing had happened. She was polite and cordial and talked to me like we had done before, as friends. It was as if she had forgotten the day itself and I did not do anything to remind her of it. I was happy that she was at least still talking to me. At that time, given the condition I was in, it felt almost like the blessing of God that I had not lost her forever.’

  ‘I was glad to still be on a talking term with her and did everything that I could to steal a conversation whenever I could find the opportunity. She never spurned me once but also did not give me any hint that could reveal what she actually thought of me in her heart. My holidays were coming to an end yet again and I started growing desperate to know if there was a possibility of a relationship between us. I was not satisfied with being a mere friend who was here today and gone tomorrow, as I had already mapped my whole life around her. I had even told father about it. He was at first apprehensive that I was marrying a widow with a teenage boy but as he himself was very fond of Savita, he soon acquiesced to my wishes. All that was now left was to get her to declare her love for me. A feeling lurked somewhere in my heart that her silence on the matter and the normal way she had behaved afterwards was proof enough that she was not averse to my proposal but then again, her modesty was coming in the way of establishing our relationship. I then decided to ask her again. I was desperate for an answer as this was my last semester and I was to take up as an intern in a private firm over the summer. If she did not say yes, I could never give it another shot.’

  ‘And did she?’ I asked.

  A broad smile was now playing about the lips of Prem Malik. Clearly, the answer was a ‘yes.’ I don’t know what Savita saw in him because this leper of a man was in no way deserving of a woman with such great qualities as her.

  ‘She…she did not say ‘yes’ per se but just gave me her number. That was as good as a ‘yes’ wasn’t it? She said that we could talk over the phone after I went back to Delhi and also that she wanted to know me better. I was so thrilled…so ecstatic that I thought I could not breathe as my happiness was suffocating me! Only one week into my holidays and we used to meet over the Ghosi Lake and talk to our heart’s content. For a little added thrill, I would even sneak into the compound of her house and stand below her room. On receiving my text message, she would come to the window where we would talk in sign language. It was all so exciting! Her beautiful face set my heart racing every time I saw her. When the time for my departure came, I gave her my handkerchief soaked in my favorite perfume. I wanted her to remember me even when I was gone. She did not say anything but kept it without any protest.’

  ‘And what did she give you in return?’ Bhrigu asked. He was now looking at the man in the same way as he generally does when he knows that something is amiss.

  ‘Why? She had already given me her phone number and I also took with me some pictures of her. I still have them in my phone. Want to see?’

  ‘No. Thank you.’ I said, stiffly.

  ‘Yes, please.’ said my friend and that settled the matter.

  While he was rummaging in his shirt pockets to fish for his cell-phone, Bhrigu was looking at him intently. I don’t know what now passed through his brain but I was pretty confident that it was not something that was passing through my brain right now.

  ‘Here.’ said Prem Malik as he finally found success in locating his phone and opening a picture folder named ‘My dream rose.’ I don’t know why but blood boiled in my veins as I read his pathetic attempt at poetry. A street Romeo of the worst degree, I might add.

  Controlling my tongue which was aching to spill something caustic, I peered into the cell phone that Bhrigu was now holding in his hand,
to look into the innocent, smiling eyes of Savita, with her hair loose and falling all over her shoulders. She was wearing a small, black bindi on her forehead and the faintest suggestion of a red lipstick. As I looked at her, a slow smile spread across my lips and for a moment I forgot that I would no longer see her smile again. The next photograph was a selfie of Savita and Prem Malik together. He was blushing into the camera with a nervous smile where as she was smiling gently alongside him. I just could not look at the picture anymore and turned my head away. The third photo was a selfie taken by Prem Malik of Savita, Prem Malik and his nephew, Pranjal all huddled together. The cute, pudgy boy had his head in the centre, flanked by those of his teacher and his uncle and the more I saw them, the more they appeared to be a happy family. The rest of the pictures were of Savita alone. Although they were very similar to the ones that I had seen before, I knew that they had been taken at different times as the color of her saris was different.

  ‘That is quite a collection you have got here.’ said my friend as he looked at each photograph very carefully.

  ‘Yes. She had such a photogenic face but still the camera could never capture her natural beauty…’ Prem Malik paused here and then said in a low voice. ‘But I will delete them all now. They will only remind me of her more.’

  ‘Sure.’ said my friend and returned back the phone to its owner.

  ‘Are you done with my son?’ asked V.K Malik and I was reminded that he too was present in the same room with us. As his son had endeavored to give a detailed description of his passion for Savita, he had grown pensive; aloof, almost as if his mind had traveled to some other place. Now, as the narrative ended, he had come back to the present and was now claiming his part of the attention.

  ‘Yes’ said Bhrigu with his sardonic smile. ‘Just a couple of routine questions more.’

  V.K Malik looked at us disapprovingly but said nothing.

  ‘Sir, ask whatever you have to ask.’ Prompted Chandu Srivastava and received a sharp look from Prem Malik.

  ‘Mr. Malik, where were you when the news of Savita’s death reached you?’ asked Bhrigu, ignoring the inspector.

  The man was quite for a while and then he said in almost a whisper. ‘I was lurking about her gate.’

  ‘Lurking about her gate?’ I shouted. ‘What can you possibly mean by that?’

  ‘You…you see I was so anxious about making Savita a part of my life that I could not wait any more. I had decided that on that day I would propose marriage to her.’ He said with a quaver in his voice. ‘But…but then my nerve failed and with a heavy heart I was soon bound towards my house. As I reached a Jalebi shop, I saw that it was crowded with people talking at the top of their voices. I knew instinctively that something resembling a scandal or a tragedy had precipitated and the crowd had gathered to extract the maximum juice out of it. Driven by curiosity, I went closer and tried to find coherence in the confusion of excited voices. After struggling for a few tense minutes, a single clear sentence reached me. ‘Was she murdered?’ Hearing this, I inched towards the man closest to me and put the question before him. It was then that he informed me about the tragedy that had destroyed my life forever.’

  ‘But’ I protested. ‘The tragedy occurred when Savita was on her way to the Pradhan’s house from yours. You very well know that she leaves in the morning for your place and when you knew that she would not be home at that time, why did you go there?’

  Prem Malik observed a profound silence at my question. He seemed to become too overcome with embarrassment to say anything.

  ‘When did you leave for Savita’s house?’ Bhrigu asked, looking sharply at the man. ‘In the wee hours of the morning, isn’t it? Couldn’t sleep that night because of your nerves, right?’

  He gloomily nodded his head. ‘I thought I would catch her when she came out the gate and accompany her all the way to my house. That way, if she was angered or hurt by my proposal, she would still have to walk alongside me and hence I would ensure that she would listen to all I had to say to her. With this thought in mind, I waited for a long time; sometimes nervous and defeated and at other times hopeful and happy but when she did not come out, my nerves failed me and I returned home. I thought she would not teach that day.’

  ‘But Savita did go to take tuitions that day which could only mean that she had left early, even before you could make it to her house.’ I said, surprised. ‘Where did she go so early in the morning? Nataraj Bhakti told us that she would leave in the morning only to teach your nephew first and then the Pradhan’s grandson and that, that day was no different. He said nothing about her going anywhere else.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that.’ said Prem Malik. ‘I only know that standing there outside her gate, I lost all track of time and by the time I returned, the day was bright and clear upon me. I loitered around a bit, planning what to do next and then as I was headed towards my home, I noticed the crowd. By that time, Savita had already left my home and…’ he gulped with pain. ‘And also this world.’

  ‘And what did you do when you learn of it?’ Bhrigu asked. I could see that my friend was struggling with some kind of strong emotion because the tip of his lips quivered for a fraction of a second but then he was his same old, poker self again.

  ‘I ran to the place indicated by the villagers; the…the scene of the crime but by that time the police had already cordoned off the place and had removed her…her body. Driven out of my senses, I ran back home and shut myself in my room.’

  ‘He did not come out for two days straight’ supplied his father. ‘However hard I tried, he would not open his door and then with his face as pale as the moonlight, he opened the door and collapsed in my arms. We had to put him on a glucose drip as he had become very weak and could not even move without support. He floated in and out of consciousness for a week. It took him ten days to come to terms with the tragedy. The poor boy!’

  Father and son looked at each other as V.K Malik gently pressed his son’s shoulder. ‘He is a fighter, my son is.’ he said again. ‘He will recover.’

  ‘Recover?’ I said with a sting. ‘I think he is thriving.’

  Ignoring my comment, Bhrigu said, ‘Can anyone corroborate what you just said?’

  ‘I can take you to that shop.’ said Prem Malik quickly. ‘One or the other of its regular customers would surely remember me.’

  ‘Right.’ said my friend. ‘I think that will be all. Please don’t leave the village until the investigation is over.’

  CHAPTER 35

  A Heady

  Cocktail

  ‘You know what, Sutte?’ said my friend when we were back at our room at the Bhakti Niwas. ‘This case is proving to be very instructive to me and my research.’

  ‘How?’ I asked, curious.

  ‘Because it is contradicting one of my theories and here I was actually hoping that I could back it up with solid proof.’

  ‘Your belief? What belief?’

  ‘That intelligence always trumps beauty at the end.’ he said with his half-smile. ‘But then again, no topic is black or white, is it? There are always a thousand different colors that are ever so difficult to observe and analyze to draw a definite conclusion. And that makes my job inherently more interesting and also equally challenging. But hey, there is no fun without a good challenge, is it?’

  ‘Don’t talk in riddles again.’ I said with a little irritation. ‘You have had a go at your suspects. Tell me, do you see a light anywhere?’

  ‘For you, investigations are all about catching the killer, aren’t they?’ he asked languidly.

  ‘Why, yes.’ I replied, confused. ‘What else are they for? For celebrating the killer?’

  ‘Do they not present several different possibilities? Every possibility a glimpse into the human nature? I have accumulated a lot of data during my term as a police inspector and a private investigator but let me tell you this; I
still have a very long way to go before I can even begin to see a clear picture. That’s the pain and pleasure of what I have embarked upon.’

  ‘So are you finally confessing that the philosopher, who said that human nature is very complex, is right?’

  ‘When did I say that it is complex?’ he said with his insufferable smile. ‘I only said that it is challenging.’

  ‘Because it is complex.’ I returned.

  ‘Because it’s just the beginning.’ he said now grinning broadly.

  ‘Leave it be.’ I said impatiently. ‘I just want you to tell me that that man, Prem Malik, has had something to do with what happened to Savita. I am almost sure that he wasn’t a good influence on her.’

  ‘Prem Malik.’ he said the name slowly and deliberately. ‘For once you are right. He is not the ideal man any good woman hopes for.’