The
Memories
Two months after friends confess killing Richa, Police are yet
to recover Richa’s body.
The headlines followed by
an account of the two friends who had confessed to the crime and the photograph
of Richa, caught Mishka’s attention.
The latent detective within
her, whom she kept hidden under the lawyer’s garb, struggled to get out. But Mishka
cruelly held it low and wouldn’t let it out. She was working on a big financial
fraud case, and she couldn’t let the detective distract or deflect her from
winning this case. Irritated, that she couldn’t even go through the FB posts
peacefully at the end of the day without such unsettling news flashes
continually teasing her, she flicked
aside her mobile and strode out of the balcony where she had sat down to relax.
She marched down to the kitchen to fix herself a stiff drink to clear her head.
The cool breeze that blew in through the living room windows invited her
outside and with the drink in her hand she let herself out into the small
garden outside. A sigh of pleasure escaped her. The gardener had created a
quiet haven for her, yet she did not have the time to enjoy the pleasures the
garden promised. A small gurgling artificial brook at the corner of the lawn soothed
her and she went and sat beside it and dipped her feet into the cool water enjoying
the tingling sensation it caused. She lay down on the cool grass and breathed
in the sweet scent of the Jasmine and Rose that wafted in along with the cool
breeze.
The delightful senses washed
over her as she lay there, eyes closed, unthinking, for a long time. Her muscles
relaxed and sleep seemed to overwhelm her. She pulled herself up and went
inside. With all the tension ebbing out of her body, she decided to stop
working or worrying for the day and give in to sleep, though it was just 8 o
clock, far earlier than the normal time her system shut down. But today, sleep
arrived just as she hit her bed and she slept like a log till the shrill sound of
the alarm woke her up at 6 in the morning. Waking up, she realized she felt
much more fresh and energetic than she usually did. That made her determined to
change her lifestyle and shed off some workload. What use was the money she
accumulated if she could not enjoy the simple pleasures of life? Ready to face
the new day with renewed energy, she had a quick shower, dressed up in a smart
black pencil-skirt, powder blue linen shirt and black heels. Finishing off her
ensemble with a golden spiked dangler and Armani watch, she picked up the keys
to her Audi, locked the doors, eased the car out of the garage and waving a
cheery goodbye to the chowkidar who had just arrived, she drove out to her
work-zone, the Mumbai high court, where
her influential clients and big case awaited her eagerly. Today was supposed to
be the last day of the three year long case and she prayed that the judge give
the verdict today itself. She just needed to get out of the case. She ceased to
care whether she lost or won this case. But nature seemed to be in tune with
her happy mood today and wouldn’t let any trivial matter to dilute it. She won
the case and got her client off the hook. A party was immediately organized for
the epic win, but Mishka opted out and
decided to leave the car in the court parking lot and walk back home. On her way
home, the picture of the missing girl from
her FB news feed kept popping up in front of her eyes and along with it some unwanted
memories surfaced . Without being aware,
she started jogging trying to shake off those unbidden memories, but they
kept rising like the mist from a lake on cold wintry mornings and threatened to
blind and choke her. A salty taste in her mouth made her realize that she was
crying and she stopped in her tracks and looked around her. Seeing a small park
on her right, she went in and sat down on a park bench facing a small pool
where kids were splashing around to ward off the afternoon heat. Her head began
throbbing. She sat there pressing her temples and taking deep breaths. As the
panic attack subsided she got up and made her way back to her small but stylish
1BHK apartment with the small terrace garden she had only come to appreciate. Pouring
a liberal amount of vodka over some ice,
she went to the small brook in the corner of the garden and lay down
allowing the cool water to soothe her tired feet. This time, she let the
memories wiggle out of the dark corner of her mind where she had locked it this
many years. But now it won’t stay confined and she let it flow out like the
waters of the brook of her garden.
She barely remembered those days. She was just
7 years. And her brother was 17. He had been more like a father to her than her
own father, who was an important police officer in Assam. During those days, Assamese
youths believed that mainstream India neglected their motherland and so, many
of the youths took up arms and started fighting for her independence under the
aegis of a revolutionary organization they named ULFA (acronym for United
Liberation Front of Assam). Mishka was unaware of the tension that gripped
Assam, but could sense the trouble brewing within her family and it left her
disturbed and agitated. She began seeing less and less of her beloved brother.
And of the times he was at home, he would play with her as usual but would
become aloof and strange as soon as her dad appeared. Soon fights would erupt
between the two and last half the night and he would be gone again. She didn’t
understand it at the time, but later came to know that her brother sympathized
with the revolutionaries while her dad was naturally against them. Her father
banned her brother’s friends from coming home. As the clash between the
government and the revolutionaries grew, so did grow the distance between
father and son.
And
one morning her mother’s worst fears were realized. Mishka had been rudely woken
up from her sleep by a loud wailing sound. The dawn had just broken and a thin
ray of light seeped in through the window above her bed in the room she
occupied with her parents. An unknown fear gripped her when she did not find
her parents besides her. She climbed out of the bed and followed the keen
wailing sound to the living room, beyond the courtyard. She first saw her
father, a picture of dejection, sitting on a sofa clutching and pulling the
hair on his head and mumbling something under his breath. Confused, she sought
out the wailing sound and found that it belonged to her mother, whose hair and
clothes were in disarray, crying and holding a sheet of paper in her hands. Instinctively
knowing that something bad must have happened to her beloved brother, she too
started wailing. Her aunt who stayed with them was also distraught with
grief, but she saw the little girl
crying and rushed in to pick her up and go out to the verandah and comfort her.
It was her aunt who told Mishka that her brother had left them forever. He had
joined the revolutionaries and would never be coming back home again. Mishka
was aghast. She was unable to comprehend what her aunt was saying. A hundred
thoughts ran through her mind. No, her
darling brother would never abandon her. What if he had joined the
revolutionaries? Why can’t he come home? And who were these revolutionaries, by
the way? But the despair of her family rubbed off on her and she started
wailing again. Trying hard to stay calm and hold off her tears, her aunt asked her to be strong for her
parents. Mishka didn’t understand what her aunt was saying. A single thought
was encircling her mind. He’s going to come back, he’s going to come back. Many days, then
months passed. The thought wouldn’t leave her, but neither did her brother come
back. Her father threw himself fervently into his work, spearheading all operations
against the revolutionaries in the hope of finding his son. He killed many
young boys, in the process.
Ultimately, the grief and guilt got to
him and he committed suicide. Her mother was never the same again. She stopped
talking and had to be fed forcefully. She lived in that state for a year, always sitting in the living room, eyes glued
to the front gate in the hope of seeing her first-born sauntering in through
those gates, a smile on his face. But
the day never came and a year later, she breathed her last breath calling out
to her son, on that same sofa, eyes still peeled upon the gates.
Had it not been for her
Aunt, Mamu, Mishka too would have withered away, all life snubbed out of her,
as the remnants of a smoked cigarette. Just before her brother disappeared,
Mamu had become engaged to an Engineer, Ranen, who worked in Mumbai. Soon after
Mishka’s mother’s death, Ranen married Mamu and they legally adopted Mishka as
their daughter. They moved to Mumbai and Mishka was enrolled in one of the most
prestigious schools there. Soon she started to adjust to her new surroundings and
began to tuck away the memories of that dark year in the darkest corner of her
mind. But the hope that her brother was alive and would return one day, still
glimmered in a corner of her heart. As she grew up, she became enamored by Agatha
Christie books and began nurturing the dream of becoming a detective and
finding her brother. But her adoptive parents would not
hear of it. They wanted a normal life for her and she also did not have the
heart to hurt them. So, she became a corporate lawyer, instead.
After Naren retired from
the Navy, both he and Mamu returned to their birthplace, Assam. Mishka’s job
demanded that she stay back in Mumbai and she was somewhat relieved that she
did not have to go back to her dark past. The last glimmer of hope of finding
her brother alive has died as soon as she gave up on her dream to become a
detective. And since then she thrust all the remnant of the memories of her
earlier life into the deepest, darkest corner of her heart and carried on the
business of living. A brilliant lawyer, she soon created a niche for herself in
the corporate world and was living a comfortable life. She had lots of friends
to keep her company, but Naren and Mamu was unsuccessful in all their attempts
to get her married off. But they were persistent ones and every phone call
would end with the issue of her being single at the ripe old age of 38 years.
Though she consistently
told Naren and Mamu, that she had moved on and the memories of that terrible night
and the events thereafter did not bother her anymore, she was all too aware
that she was lying. Whenever some news of a missing person or of extremist
activities came on TV or popped up on her social media news feed, those
memories would rear their ugly head and threaten her peace. She would then
quash those flashbacks with liberal amounts of alcohol. Alcohol was not her
problem as long as Naren and Mamu were with her. But after they left, she could
not bear those flashbacks all alone. And so she began seeking refuge in hard
drinks and now that refuge was turning into a vicious prison cell which would
not let her free.
Of late, she began to
admit to herself that she was in trouble. She has started realizing that she
had become an alcoholic and that she needed help. Today’s episode made her
realize that she needed immediate help. She decided to look up a good therapist
and also join an Alcoholic Anonymous Mumbai group. It felt good that she had
allowed her memories to tumble out today. It was long overdue. And now she felt
a strange sort of emptiness within her, like the emptiness of the womb a mother
feels after giving birth; a bit sad and so much relieved. Emotionally, she was
done; mentally, she was drained; spiritually, she felt dead and physically, she
could smile. Now she can really move on and keep going.
