The Memories

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.