Dakhma, p.10
Dakhma, page 10
‘I will pay whatever you ask, but I want you to come right away, you know, before my husband comes. He wouldn’t approve of this.’
‘I need to pick up some stuff from my place first. Do you have a car?’ the investigator asked.
‘Yes, I will take you.’
‘Cool! Let us go then.’
Anahita and Hira went to his place first. While Anahita waited in the cab with Keshav, Hira went inside to collect his gear. Varun called in to check if she was all right. He had just gotten out of his meeting.
‘I am all right. I am heading home now,’ she told her husband over the phone.
‘Great! Can you send Keshav after you reach home?’ Varun asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Anahita looked at the driver, who was standing outside the car. ‘I might need him again.’
Varun paused briefly and spoke to someone. Then he said to Anahita, ‘It is okay, darling. I have got another cab here. I have a meeting in Versova at six. Will head home after that. Would you like to go out for dinner?’
Varun’s question surprised Anahita, because he hadn’t taken her out to dinner in almost a year now. She said, ‘Okay.’
‘Great, I will call you as soon as my next meeting gets over.’
After disconnecting the call, Anahita checked her Instagram. There were no new messages from Mehr. She locked the phone and kept it back inside her purse. The gate of the residential society opened and out came the paranormal investigator with a huge black bag, the kind used by delivery executives. He placed it on the backseat next to Anahita and himself sat on the front seat next to Keshav. Soon, the driver started the car, and they were off to Paradise Heights.
28
MNP Headquarters
THE PRESENTATION ON HIS MACBOOK WAS JUST A formality. Varun felt no real need for it. He did not want the reports and newspaper cuttings that he had laid out on the table. Those were there just to create an impression. The effort impressed Bhau, but he awaited eagerly for Varun to reveal his big breaking news.
‘Did you see that?’ Varun pointed towards a printed report that showed some transaction details. Bhau tried to fathom what the numbers meant. ‘These are money transfers from NRI accounts to an NGO called Sanraksha. And guess who runs that NGO?’
Bhau looked at Varun cluelessly.
‘Savita Devi.’
‘Who is that?’
‘Savita Devi is the maternal aunt of the current chief minister’s driver. Guess what’s even more interesting?’ Varun toiled with excitement. ‘She died five years ago.’
‘I hope you can prove that.’
‘Oh, I can, but I won’t. Let the right time come, we will do it. For now, I just want all the attention on this big transaction that is going to happen in the city. The big push for development in Mumbai. You must wonder what Sanraksha, or a dead aunt of the CM’s driver, has to do with the city’s development propaganda?’
Bhau looked on, waiting for Varun’s revelation.
‘It is a bribe from someone to the CM. Somebody really wanted a huge infrastructure project. Actually, it is the largest infrastructure project in the state. You know … politicians returning favours to old friends who funded their victory.’
Bhau knew perfectly well what Varun was talking about. In fact, everyone had talked about it in the media. Some leading news channels spoke very highly of the advantages of the project – from employment opportunities it would create for lakhs of daily wage workers to the ease of commutation for travellers. Social media influencers flooded their timelines with hashtags like #PublicTransportStopsPollution, #indiasbiggestmetrostation #greatdaysformumbaikars #MeraMetroMahaan #meraCMmahaan etc. The media houses ‘aligned’ with the ruling party did everything they could to showcase the project as a step towards increasing the use of public transport and promoting a cleaner environment.
‘The Metro Shed Project!’ Varun revealed finally.
‘Brilliant!’ the old politician expressed his joy. ‘What is your next step?’
‘Let me finish my appointments first. I have a plan of action. We will not expose the corruption first. Let’s fiddle with the youth’s emotions with a new face of revelation, a young Messiah – Abhinav Deshmukh.’
29
7E, Paradise Heights
FIRST, HIRA PULLED OUT AN EMF sensor from his kit, followed by weird-looking goggles with some sort of audio receiver on its left side. He wore it around his head. Anahita looked on curiously at the mumbo-jumbo setup. Next to come out of the big black bag was a flashlight.
‘This is no ordinary flashlight,’ he said, as if he could read Anahita’s mind. He added, ‘It is an ultraviolet ray dispenser. UV rays can fluoresce visible light in total darkness. You might have seen in films how police can see invisible blood stains by throwing UV light on walls, etc. The Da Vinci Code? No?’
Anahita seemed clueless but nodded to get on with the proceedings. Hira pressed a button on the EMF sensor. A beep.
‘This is a digital sensor. Most of the paranormal investigators in India still use fake analogue ones. Those can malfunction easily. But this is advanced stuff, professional. Come with me.’ He moved towards the kitchen, holding the EMF sensor in front of him as he walked. Anahita followed.
‘What does it do?’ She asked.
‘It detects erratic energy fluctuations. These ghosts or spirits are nothing but energy. They have an electromagnetic field, and this device detects it. The moment it detects an energy, it will go beep!’
After scanning the kitchen, the living room, and the study room, they moved into the master bedroom. Every time they finished scanning a room, Anahita would ask if he had found anything, but he would just tilt his head. As they passed one room after the other, she felt increasingly uneasy.
‘Look, if you are scared, you can wait outside until I complete the scan. It is okay, I have got this.’
‘No, I would like to see how it works.’
‘You know, sometimes these spirits do not come because they fear the occupants of the house. In fact, half the time they try to scare off new occupants or trespassers only because of fear. Just like animals. It is a defence mechanism.’
‘Won’t you scare the spirit then?’
‘Well, what can I say? I have a knack for befriending spirits.’
He smiled – the ego apparent on his face, even behind that bush for a beard. They entered the bedroom and Hira waved the device as he walked from one corner to the other. Nothing beeped. He arrived at the glass door.
‘That’s where I saw her,’ Anahita said. Every strand of hair on her body stood on end as she mentioned her encounter.
Hira inched closer towards the door. Anahita expected a sound from the instrument that he was carrying. She waited anxiously. Just as he was about to open the glass door, the doorbell rang.
‘I will get that,’ Anahita said, and went out of the room.
‘Get what?’ Hira was so engrossed in the investigation, he had missed the sound of the doorbell entirely.
After Anahita left for the door, Hira sighed and quickly opened the backside of the EMF sensor and punched in a numeric code. It returned an error. ‘Damn, you stupid thing!’ He cursed the device. ‘Why did you stop working?’
Outside the glass door, the skies had turned grey again. His device was returning an unusual error.
30
WHEN ANAHITA OPENED THE DOOR, MEHR STOOD there, waving at her. It was the second time that week her friend had shown up without notice. ‘You didn’t message … ’ Anahita began
‘Surprise!’ Mehr winked. She definitely looked younger in person than in her Instagram profile picture. ‘Can I come in?’
Anahita moved away, allowing her friend to enter the house. She noticed Mehr’s silky cherry-coloured stole. ‘Wow! This looks lovely.’
‘Thanks, needed something to match my glass frames. Besides, it was windy. So, what’s happening?’ Mehr asked, ‘I saw a pair of shoes outside. Is Varun home?’
‘No,’ Anahita replied as she shut the door behind her.
‘Then?’
‘A woman’s ghost is haunting this house.’ Anahita didn’t mince any words. That’s how she was with Mehr.
‘What?’
Anahita pulled Mehr towards the bedroom. ‘Come, I will introduce you to … ’
Just then Hira came out of the bedroom, bumping into Anahita. The EMF device fell on the floor. As Anahita apologized profusely, Mehr let out a snort. ‘Who the fuck is this weirdo?’ Hira seemed to take offence to Mehr’s blunt rudeness and glared at Anahita. Feeling embarrassed and awkward, Anahita immediately introduced the man to her friend, ‘This is Hira Tejwani. Paranormal investigator and writer.’
‘Para … what?’
Hira appeared baffled. The device that had fallen started beeping suddenly. The alarm took Anahita by surprise, but Mehr started chuckling.
‘Did you find the ghost?’ Anahita asked.
‘I … I … I think I will go. I will come back another time.’ Hira stammered as he pocketed his device. He picked up his bag hastily.
Hira’s sudden shiftiness confused Anahita. ‘But what happened?’
Before Hira could reply, Mehr interjected. ‘Yeah, go away, you fraud. Don’t you dare come back to this house to fool my friend again. You understand?’ Mehr’s tone had changed from mocking to serious.
Hira was already putting on his shoes in haste and yelled from the door, ‘You should see a doctor, woman!’ Then, he ran out of the house as if he really had seen a ghost, slamming the door shut on the way out.
‘And you called this idiot to exorcise the haunted house?’ Mehr asked, eyebrows raised.
‘I swear he is genuine – a little boastful, but genuine. He has even written a book. I don’t know why he ran away like that. That sensor was beeping suddenly. Did you see? Maybe it detected a ghost in the house. Maybe he saw the ghost.’
Mehr put her arm on Anahita’s shoulder. ‘Tell me, what makes you think this house is haunted? Who is haunting you?’
‘The woman who committed suicide in this house. Her spirit is haunting me.’
31
The Indie, Versova
VARUN HELD AN UNLIT CIGARETTE IN HIS HAND AND waited outside the building. A couple of girls working at The Indie had come out to smoke. They stared at him, wondering why he wasn’t lighting his and if he was a creep who had only come to the smoking area to ogle at others. Varun did not mind the stares.
A receptionist came and called out to Varun. ‘Mr Anand?’
‘Yes?’ He turned.
‘Madam will see you now. Please come with me.’
Varun threw the cigarette and walked inside. The girls who were smoking rolled their eyes, seeing a completely unused cigarette wasted like that. ‘He could have given it to us if he didn’t want to smoke,’ one of them murmured.
Meanwhile, the receptionist showed Varun the way to the editor’s cabin. When he entered, he was caught by surprise for a minute – the woman on the editor’s seat had a familiar face.
‘Hello, Mr Anand!’ The editor greeted. She, too, was trying to place the face that she knew she had seen before.
‘Mehrab Hussain … Mehr?’ Varun asked in disbelief.
‘Varun?’ Mehr was in half a mind to kick him out. But she knew she couldn’t, since he had come for Bhau’s work. She had to bury the demons of the past. Varun Anand was not Anu’s husband, but her financier’s PR guy. This meeting is strictly professional.
‘What a small world! Didn’t realize we’d meet so soon,’ Varun said.
‘Me neither. Please, take a seat, Mr Anand.’
‘Varun.’
‘Mr Anand.’ She tried to sound indifferent, but inside she felt tremors. ‘Let us get on with our meeting. I have another important appointment after this.’
‘Sure, Mehr.’
‘Mehrab Hussain, please.’
32
7E, Paradise Heights
ANAHITA OPENED THE BOOK SHE HAD FOUND THE OTHER day in the study room. Mehr waited eagerly. Anahita had told her everything about the woman who committed suicide, the ghost who appeared outside the glass door, the missing daughter, the nightmares and the vulture that made cameos at her balcony. At first, Mehr dismissed them as Anahita’s imagination, until Anahita told her about all the strange books in the library and the journal with the brown cover.
On the second page of the book, something was written in blue ink. Anahita could not identify the script. She closed the book and handed it over to Mehr.
Mehr looked at it and said, ‘It’s Gujarati.’
‘Really? Do you know anyone who can read it?’
‘Dokh-me-nashini,’ Mehr read out
‘When did you learn Gujarati?’
Mehr smiled.
Impatiently, Anahita asked, ‘Okay, what does it mean?’
‘I am not sure.’
‘Can you read the rest?’
Mehr moved to the second page. ‘It is a name, I think.’
‘A name?’
‘Yeah,’ Mehr said, ‘Parizaad.’
33
The Indie, Versova
THE MEETING WASN’T COMFORTABLE, BUT IT WAS PART of his work. He expected some warmth from the editor since she was a friend of his wife. However, Mehrab Hussain’s reception was the opposite. After coming out of the office, he called his wife as promised. He really wanted to eat at an Italian restaurant. Truth was, he did not want to eat what Anahita made. The aftertaste of the previous night’s dal-chawal made him feel sick.
He called Anahita. ‘Hi, darling. My meeting just got over. By the way, you won’t believe whom I met. I will tell you over dinner, would love to see the surprise on your face. Are you ready?’
7E, Paradise Heights
While Mehr sat in a corner trying to decipher the content of the book, Anahita answered on the phone, ‘I am so sorry. I forgot about our dinner. Can we do it another night?’
‘Why? Is everything all right?’ Varun asked.
‘Well, actually, my friend Mehr is with me.’
‘Mehr?’
‘Yes. Remember we met her at the party?’
‘What? What do you mean Mehr is with you?’
‘Why, what’s wrong?’
‘Anu, Mehr can’t be there with you … ’
Through the phone, Anahita heard the shuffling of Varun’s feet and the creak of a door opening. He asked someone to take the phone. Anahita held her breath, wondering what her husband was up to, until a woman answered. ‘Hello, Anahita?’ It was a voice Anahita would always recognize instantly.
‘Mehr?’ Anahita mumbled.
‘Yes, what happened? Is everything okay? Your husband asked me to speak to you.’ Mehr’s voice sounded tense on the phone.
‘But … you are … right here.’ The phone slid down Anahita’s hand and hit the floor. She stared at the person in front of her. She looked like Mehr; sounded like Mehr. What on earth … ? But Anahita was now starting to see that something was off … it was Mehr all right, but too young … almost exactly like the Mehr she remembered from nine years ago. As Anahita stared at this younger version of Mehr, sitting in front of her, the maroon-coloured glasses faded and the cherry stole disappeared. The lingering smile on her face faded, little by little, like pixels of an image, and the person started disintegrating into thin air.
Who was it … this apparition-Mehr, stuck in time. Was it a figment of Anahita’s troubled imagination or … a ghost?
Her mouth completely dry, Anahita mumbled, ‘No … no, no!’
‘It is okay, Anu. Close your eyes,’ the fading figure spoke. ‘Breathe in … Breathe out. Everything is not under our control.’
Anahita closed her eyes tightly. She realized it was not Mehr in front of her. It was an illusion created from her memory – a hallucination. No wonder Hira had run away. He did not see another woman in the house; what he had actually seen was Anahita acting eerie – switching from timid and polite to cynical and rude.
Anahita pushed her fingers inside her ears, sealing them from every sound that emanated outside – the sound of raindrops, frantic ‘hellos’, ‘are you okay’ from the phone on the floor. In the total silence, Anahita could hear her teacher explaining how air entered the alveolar sac. The image of the alveolar sac appeared in the darkness.
Sounds from the past came hurling at her – Keshav shouting at the little boy on the day she arrived in Mumbai, her husband yelling at her for being careless, her mother scolding her for seeing her friend, Hira babbling at the door that she should see a doctor, Dr Malhotra telling her that someday Varun will come to know about the baby … and finally, a scream … the one from the classroom of Good Shepherd’s Convent in 2005.
It was Mehr’s scream, as she struggled against Christopher’s attempt to rape her.
13 August 2005, Saturday Good Shepherd Convent, Gurgaon
When she flung open the door, Anahita saw Mehr lying on the desk, helpless. Christopher, who had Mehr pinned to the ground, looked at Anahita in horror. He had not accounted for this intrusion. Anahita’s pulse rate rose, for what she saw made her want to throw up. White hot light flashed before her eyes, blinding her momentarily.
When the flash of light faded, she saw something else. Anahita was no longer in the classroom. Someone was on top of her, pinning her down. She felt a stinging sensation surge in her belly and make its way to her eyes – a searing pain.
A flash of white light.
She was in the classroom again, with Mehr holding out her hand, crying for help. Christopher charged towards Anahita. Instinctively, Anahita went for her bag lying on the desk and pulled out her geometry box. She took out the compass and as Christopher reached to grab her, she drove it into his left eye – the one with the scar above it. The boy yelled in agony. Anahita pulled the compass out, sending drops of red plunging through white viscous fluid in his eye.
Another flash of white swept across her vision.
‘I need to pick up some stuff from my place first. Do you have a car?’ the investigator asked.
‘Yes, I will take you.’
‘Cool! Let us go then.’
Anahita and Hira went to his place first. While Anahita waited in the cab with Keshav, Hira went inside to collect his gear. Varun called in to check if she was all right. He had just gotten out of his meeting.
‘I am all right. I am heading home now,’ she told her husband over the phone.
‘Great! Can you send Keshav after you reach home?’ Varun asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Anahita looked at the driver, who was standing outside the car. ‘I might need him again.’
Varun paused briefly and spoke to someone. Then he said to Anahita, ‘It is okay, darling. I have got another cab here. I have a meeting in Versova at six. Will head home after that. Would you like to go out for dinner?’
Varun’s question surprised Anahita, because he hadn’t taken her out to dinner in almost a year now. She said, ‘Okay.’
‘Great, I will call you as soon as my next meeting gets over.’
After disconnecting the call, Anahita checked her Instagram. There were no new messages from Mehr. She locked the phone and kept it back inside her purse. The gate of the residential society opened and out came the paranormal investigator with a huge black bag, the kind used by delivery executives. He placed it on the backseat next to Anahita and himself sat on the front seat next to Keshav. Soon, the driver started the car, and they were off to Paradise Heights.
28
MNP Headquarters
THE PRESENTATION ON HIS MACBOOK WAS JUST A formality. Varun felt no real need for it. He did not want the reports and newspaper cuttings that he had laid out on the table. Those were there just to create an impression. The effort impressed Bhau, but he awaited eagerly for Varun to reveal his big breaking news.
‘Did you see that?’ Varun pointed towards a printed report that showed some transaction details. Bhau tried to fathom what the numbers meant. ‘These are money transfers from NRI accounts to an NGO called Sanraksha. And guess who runs that NGO?’
Bhau looked at Varun cluelessly.
‘Savita Devi.’
‘Who is that?’
‘Savita Devi is the maternal aunt of the current chief minister’s driver. Guess what’s even more interesting?’ Varun toiled with excitement. ‘She died five years ago.’
‘I hope you can prove that.’
‘Oh, I can, but I won’t. Let the right time come, we will do it. For now, I just want all the attention on this big transaction that is going to happen in the city. The big push for development in Mumbai. You must wonder what Sanraksha, or a dead aunt of the CM’s driver, has to do with the city’s development propaganda?’
Bhau looked on, waiting for Varun’s revelation.
‘It is a bribe from someone to the CM. Somebody really wanted a huge infrastructure project. Actually, it is the largest infrastructure project in the state. You know … politicians returning favours to old friends who funded their victory.’
Bhau knew perfectly well what Varun was talking about. In fact, everyone had talked about it in the media. Some leading news channels spoke very highly of the advantages of the project – from employment opportunities it would create for lakhs of daily wage workers to the ease of commutation for travellers. Social media influencers flooded their timelines with hashtags like #PublicTransportStopsPollution, #indiasbiggestmetrostation #greatdaysformumbaikars #MeraMetroMahaan #meraCMmahaan etc. The media houses ‘aligned’ with the ruling party did everything they could to showcase the project as a step towards increasing the use of public transport and promoting a cleaner environment.
‘The Metro Shed Project!’ Varun revealed finally.
‘Brilliant!’ the old politician expressed his joy. ‘What is your next step?’
‘Let me finish my appointments first. I have a plan of action. We will not expose the corruption first. Let’s fiddle with the youth’s emotions with a new face of revelation, a young Messiah – Abhinav Deshmukh.’
29
7E, Paradise Heights
FIRST, HIRA PULLED OUT AN EMF sensor from his kit, followed by weird-looking goggles with some sort of audio receiver on its left side. He wore it around his head. Anahita looked on curiously at the mumbo-jumbo setup. Next to come out of the big black bag was a flashlight.
‘This is no ordinary flashlight,’ he said, as if he could read Anahita’s mind. He added, ‘It is an ultraviolet ray dispenser. UV rays can fluoresce visible light in total darkness. You might have seen in films how police can see invisible blood stains by throwing UV light on walls, etc. The Da Vinci Code? No?’
Anahita seemed clueless but nodded to get on with the proceedings. Hira pressed a button on the EMF sensor. A beep.
‘This is a digital sensor. Most of the paranormal investigators in India still use fake analogue ones. Those can malfunction easily. But this is advanced stuff, professional. Come with me.’ He moved towards the kitchen, holding the EMF sensor in front of him as he walked. Anahita followed.
‘What does it do?’ She asked.
‘It detects erratic energy fluctuations. These ghosts or spirits are nothing but energy. They have an electromagnetic field, and this device detects it. The moment it detects an energy, it will go beep!’
After scanning the kitchen, the living room, and the study room, they moved into the master bedroom. Every time they finished scanning a room, Anahita would ask if he had found anything, but he would just tilt his head. As they passed one room after the other, she felt increasingly uneasy.
‘Look, if you are scared, you can wait outside until I complete the scan. It is okay, I have got this.’
‘No, I would like to see how it works.’
‘You know, sometimes these spirits do not come because they fear the occupants of the house. In fact, half the time they try to scare off new occupants or trespassers only because of fear. Just like animals. It is a defence mechanism.’
‘Won’t you scare the spirit then?’
‘Well, what can I say? I have a knack for befriending spirits.’
He smiled – the ego apparent on his face, even behind that bush for a beard. They entered the bedroom and Hira waved the device as he walked from one corner to the other. Nothing beeped. He arrived at the glass door.
‘That’s where I saw her,’ Anahita said. Every strand of hair on her body stood on end as she mentioned her encounter.
Hira inched closer towards the door. Anahita expected a sound from the instrument that he was carrying. She waited anxiously. Just as he was about to open the glass door, the doorbell rang.
‘I will get that,’ Anahita said, and went out of the room.
‘Get what?’ Hira was so engrossed in the investigation, he had missed the sound of the doorbell entirely.
After Anahita left for the door, Hira sighed and quickly opened the backside of the EMF sensor and punched in a numeric code. It returned an error. ‘Damn, you stupid thing!’ He cursed the device. ‘Why did you stop working?’
Outside the glass door, the skies had turned grey again. His device was returning an unusual error.
30
WHEN ANAHITA OPENED THE DOOR, MEHR STOOD there, waving at her. It was the second time that week her friend had shown up without notice. ‘You didn’t message … ’ Anahita began
‘Surprise!’ Mehr winked. She definitely looked younger in person than in her Instagram profile picture. ‘Can I come in?’
Anahita moved away, allowing her friend to enter the house. She noticed Mehr’s silky cherry-coloured stole. ‘Wow! This looks lovely.’
‘Thanks, needed something to match my glass frames. Besides, it was windy. So, what’s happening?’ Mehr asked, ‘I saw a pair of shoes outside. Is Varun home?’
‘No,’ Anahita replied as she shut the door behind her.
‘Then?’
‘A woman’s ghost is haunting this house.’ Anahita didn’t mince any words. That’s how she was with Mehr.
‘What?’
Anahita pulled Mehr towards the bedroom. ‘Come, I will introduce you to … ’
Just then Hira came out of the bedroom, bumping into Anahita. The EMF device fell on the floor. As Anahita apologized profusely, Mehr let out a snort. ‘Who the fuck is this weirdo?’ Hira seemed to take offence to Mehr’s blunt rudeness and glared at Anahita. Feeling embarrassed and awkward, Anahita immediately introduced the man to her friend, ‘This is Hira Tejwani. Paranormal investigator and writer.’
‘Para … what?’
Hira appeared baffled. The device that had fallen started beeping suddenly. The alarm took Anahita by surprise, but Mehr started chuckling.
‘Did you find the ghost?’ Anahita asked.
‘I … I … I think I will go. I will come back another time.’ Hira stammered as he pocketed his device. He picked up his bag hastily.
Hira’s sudden shiftiness confused Anahita. ‘But what happened?’
Before Hira could reply, Mehr interjected. ‘Yeah, go away, you fraud. Don’t you dare come back to this house to fool my friend again. You understand?’ Mehr’s tone had changed from mocking to serious.
Hira was already putting on his shoes in haste and yelled from the door, ‘You should see a doctor, woman!’ Then, he ran out of the house as if he really had seen a ghost, slamming the door shut on the way out.
‘And you called this idiot to exorcise the haunted house?’ Mehr asked, eyebrows raised.
‘I swear he is genuine – a little boastful, but genuine. He has even written a book. I don’t know why he ran away like that. That sensor was beeping suddenly. Did you see? Maybe it detected a ghost in the house. Maybe he saw the ghost.’
Mehr put her arm on Anahita’s shoulder. ‘Tell me, what makes you think this house is haunted? Who is haunting you?’
‘The woman who committed suicide in this house. Her spirit is haunting me.’
31
The Indie, Versova
VARUN HELD AN UNLIT CIGARETTE IN HIS HAND AND waited outside the building. A couple of girls working at The Indie had come out to smoke. They stared at him, wondering why he wasn’t lighting his and if he was a creep who had only come to the smoking area to ogle at others. Varun did not mind the stares.
A receptionist came and called out to Varun. ‘Mr Anand?’
‘Yes?’ He turned.
‘Madam will see you now. Please come with me.’
Varun threw the cigarette and walked inside. The girls who were smoking rolled their eyes, seeing a completely unused cigarette wasted like that. ‘He could have given it to us if he didn’t want to smoke,’ one of them murmured.
Meanwhile, the receptionist showed Varun the way to the editor’s cabin. When he entered, he was caught by surprise for a minute – the woman on the editor’s seat had a familiar face.
‘Hello, Mr Anand!’ The editor greeted. She, too, was trying to place the face that she knew she had seen before.
‘Mehrab Hussain … Mehr?’ Varun asked in disbelief.
‘Varun?’ Mehr was in half a mind to kick him out. But she knew she couldn’t, since he had come for Bhau’s work. She had to bury the demons of the past. Varun Anand was not Anu’s husband, but her financier’s PR guy. This meeting is strictly professional.
‘What a small world! Didn’t realize we’d meet so soon,’ Varun said.
‘Me neither. Please, take a seat, Mr Anand.’
‘Varun.’
‘Mr Anand.’ She tried to sound indifferent, but inside she felt tremors. ‘Let us get on with our meeting. I have another important appointment after this.’
‘Sure, Mehr.’
‘Mehrab Hussain, please.’
32
7E, Paradise Heights
ANAHITA OPENED THE BOOK SHE HAD FOUND THE OTHER day in the study room. Mehr waited eagerly. Anahita had told her everything about the woman who committed suicide, the ghost who appeared outside the glass door, the missing daughter, the nightmares and the vulture that made cameos at her balcony. At first, Mehr dismissed them as Anahita’s imagination, until Anahita told her about all the strange books in the library and the journal with the brown cover.
On the second page of the book, something was written in blue ink. Anahita could not identify the script. She closed the book and handed it over to Mehr.
Mehr looked at it and said, ‘It’s Gujarati.’
‘Really? Do you know anyone who can read it?’
‘Dokh-me-nashini,’ Mehr read out
‘When did you learn Gujarati?’
Mehr smiled.
Impatiently, Anahita asked, ‘Okay, what does it mean?’
‘I am not sure.’
‘Can you read the rest?’
Mehr moved to the second page. ‘It is a name, I think.’
‘A name?’
‘Yeah,’ Mehr said, ‘Parizaad.’
33
The Indie, Versova
THE MEETING WASN’T COMFORTABLE, BUT IT WAS PART of his work. He expected some warmth from the editor since she was a friend of his wife. However, Mehrab Hussain’s reception was the opposite. After coming out of the office, he called his wife as promised. He really wanted to eat at an Italian restaurant. Truth was, he did not want to eat what Anahita made. The aftertaste of the previous night’s dal-chawal made him feel sick.
He called Anahita. ‘Hi, darling. My meeting just got over. By the way, you won’t believe whom I met. I will tell you over dinner, would love to see the surprise on your face. Are you ready?’
7E, Paradise Heights
While Mehr sat in a corner trying to decipher the content of the book, Anahita answered on the phone, ‘I am so sorry. I forgot about our dinner. Can we do it another night?’
‘Why? Is everything all right?’ Varun asked.
‘Well, actually, my friend Mehr is with me.’
‘Mehr?’
‘Yes. Remember we met her at the party?’
‘What? What do you mean Mehr is with you?’
‘Why, what’s wrong?’
‘Anu, Mehr can’t be there with you … ’
Through the phone, Anahita heard the shuffling of Varun’s feet and the creak of a door opening. He asked someone to take the phone. Anahita held her breath, wondering what her husband was up to, until a woman answered. ‘Hello, Anahita?’ It was a voice Anahita would always recognize instantly.
‘Mehr?’ Anahita mumbled.
‘Yes, what happened? Is everything okay? Your husband asked me to speak to you.’ Mehr’s voice sounded tense on the phone.
‘But … you are … right here.’ The phone slid down Anahita’s hand and hit the floor. She stared at the person in front of her. She looked like Mehr; sounded like Mehr. What on earth … ? But Anahita was now starting to see that something was off … it was Mehr all right, but too young … almost exactly like the Mehr she remembered from nine years ago. As Anahita stared at this younger version of Mehr, sitting in front of her, the maroon-coloured glasses faded and the cherry stole disappeared. The lingering smile on her face faded, little by little, like pixels of an image, and the person started disintegrating into thin air.
Who was it … this apparition-Mehr, stuck in time. Was it a figment of Anahita’s troubled imagination or … a ghost?
Her mouth completely dry, Anahita mumbled, ‘No … no, no!’
‘It is okay, Anu. Close your eyes,’ the fading figure spoke. ‘Breathe in … Breathe out. Everything is not under our control.’
Anahita closed her eyes tightly. She realized it was not Mehr in front of her. It was an illusion created from her memory – a hallucination. No wonder Hira had run away. He did not see another woman in the house; what he had actually seen was Anahita acting eerie – switching from timid and polite to cynical and rude.
Anahita pushed her fingers inside her ears, sealing them from every sound that emanated outside – the sound of raindrops, frantic ‘hellos’, ‘are you okay’ from the phone on the floor. In the total silence, Anahita could hear her teacher explaining how air entered the alveolar sac. The image of the alveolar sac appeared in the darkness.
Sounds from the past came hurling at her – Keshav shouting at the little boy on the day she arrived in Mumbai, her husband yelling at her for being careless, her mother scolding her for seeing her friend, Hira babbling at the door that she should see a doctor, Dr Malhotra telling her that someday Varun will come to know about the baby … and finally, a scream … the one from the classroom of Good Shepherd’s Convent in 2005.
It was Mehr’s scream, as she struggled against Christopher’s attempt to rape her.
13 August 2005, Saturday Good Shepherd Convent, Gurgaon
When she flung open the door, Anahita saw Mehr lying on the desk, helpless. Christopher, who had Mehr pinned to the ground, looked at Anahita in horror. He had not accounted for this intrusion. Anahita’s pulse rate rose, for what she saw made her want to throw up. White hot light flashed before her eyes, blinding her momentarily.
When the flash of light faded, she saw something else. Anahita was no longer in the classroom. Someone was on top of her, pinning her down. She felt a stinging sensation surge in her belly and make its way to her eyes – a searing pain.
A flash of white light.
She was in the classroom again, with Mehr holding out her hand, crying for help. Christopher charged towards Anahita. Instinctively, Anahita went for her bag lying on the desk and pulled out her geometry box. She took out the compass and as Christopher reached to grab her, she drove it into his left eye – the one with the scar above it. The boy yelled in agony. Anahita pulled the compass out, sending drops of red plunging through white viscous fluid in his eye.
Another flash of white swept across her vision.
