Chapter 36
The police had arrived as soon as they were notified. The unofficial questioning had begun the very moment they arrived. The police left with the simple instruction for all that we might be summoned to the police station for more rounds of questioning. I was miserable, hoping to find some clue, but the police were clueless and the rest remain tight-lipped fearing consequences. The only closure I hoped to get was from Manto's parents and for that, I had to wait patiently. I did not want to barge in their time of grief.
Prashant wanted to leave and I agreed. Rohit was flustered at the events. However, he was sympathetic and understanding. He allowed us to leave. All eyes were on Prashant and me and they had worry written all over it. I wanted to escape all of it, the foremost being Manto's haunting eyes and her face covered in blood. I didn't believe in ghosts but I was sure if Manto was given a chance, she would haunt me forever for not sparing two minutes.
Prashant wanted to walk but I refused it politely. All I wanted to do was go home and cry. I wanted to call my ma and bare open my heart to her. Perhaps, she would convince me not to be guilty of killing Manto. I wanted to hear her soothing voice and apologize to her for never taking out time to call her. Prashant and I decided to walk to the station before parting ways. He did not talk much and I did not mind.
As soon as we were out, the accident site covered in blood, shook us to the core, making us live those gruesome moments again and again. Both of us looked towards the top of the building to see if Manto was still hovering around and could be saved by our nimble decision. But we couldn't do anything then and we were not doing anything now. She left us with a sense of uncertainty about everything around us.
We were brought out of the trance by the loud honking of a car. Both of us turned in unison to see Agam calling out to us. He offered to drop us home, while I was hesitant, Prashant accepted the offer easily.
"Thank you," he said the moment he sat in the car.
"Where do you stay Prashant?"
"Dadar."
"Umm, then it would be easier to drop you first. Why don't you sit at the back because you will be the first one to exit?" Prashant agreed. I sat next to Agam. The sight of Manto's blood wheezed past us but it remained permanently etched in my memory. So much so that every time I closed my eyes to gain a sense of semblance, I was shaking by the horrors of it. Sensing my apprehension to sleep, Agam switched on the stereo system to play some music.
"Don't overthink Abhilasha," Agam spoke softly.
A soft "hmmm" escaped my mouth.
Agam prodded Prashant if he was close to Manto. He shook his head in answer.
"I barely interacted with her." He said after some thought. Agam listened to him with rapt attention.
"Who was close to her in the office?"
"No one. She remained aloof, but she was on good terms with Abhi. She talked to her often." Agam looked at me, hoping to know more.
Prashant guided him with the directions to his house. Though the traffic was light at this hour, we reached Prashant's place a little later than the expected time displayed on Google Maps. Prashant got out and asked me to take care of myself. I offered him a small smile which definitely didn't reach my eyes.
"Where was Manto's body taken? I asked Agam as soon as we rolled out of the neighbourhood.
"J J Hospital."
"Well, that's near my place," I said to myself.
"Yeah," Agam responded as if I meant it for him.
We drove peacefully. I kept myself occupied with the sights outside the window while Agam concentrated on navigating us through the Mumbai traffic.
"Why are you so...?" I kept fishing for the right word not wanting to offend him. "inquisitive?"
"I find it a little off for Manto to commit suicide in office. I mean why...."
"Come to the office and then...." I spoke for him.
"She stayed alone." He looked at me to gauge my expression.
"How do you know?" I asked surprised
"Bini told me."
"Oh, Bini, the gospel of truth." I retorted sarcastically.
He was surprised at my outburst.
"What...what was that?"
"Nothing. Just...ignore."
"Okaaayyy." And the stretch in his voice spoke otherwise.
"Something was going on in her head. I just don't know what. However, I am going to figure that out." He didn't reply and I continued. "I need to know if I could have helped her and if there was some truth..." and I trailed off not wanting him to know about what Manto spoke to me. However, his sharp, astute mind would have definitely guessed I was hiding something from him.
"Drop me here," I told him out of the blue. "Or you will get stuck."
"It's okay. I will take a detour." He offered generously.
"Will I get parking someplace here?" He asked.
"And you think I have a clue?" I spoke irritated.
"Ahh well. Okay, let me find a parking space."
"On this busy street." I showed him my displeasure in being held up.
"I will drop you home."
"Thanks, I did not know I was a baby."
He was irked but controlled himself from showing his anger. I opened the door and scrambled out midway. I don't know what made me go ballistic in few minutes. I did not look back to see where he went or where he parked his car. I just wanted to be home.
On reaching home I was disappointed to find it locked. I was on the verge of tears. I couldn't understand what was happening. Why was I so emotional and irrational? Manto's death had riled me up; agreed. But I was level headed, I argued with myself. I was practical and cold-hearted, isn't it how my sis described me?
I was hungry but I had survived with hunger. When my parents could not offer me money to buy food or my mom was too busy to cook, I had learnt to go hungry for hours. I never let it go to my head. I called up bua frustrated to find out she was at her relative's place and wouldn't be back before 10 in the night. I couldn't even complain. I was never early and it was still 6...
I picked up my phone and reached out to Agam, why I have no clue. Perhaps the desperation to have some human company and not be alone. He picked up my phone on the fourth ring.
"You reached home?"
"Where are you?" I was straight to the point.
He took a few seconds to reply. "On the road."
"Can you pick me up?" If he was flustered, I didn't care.
"I am sorry?"
I had no sense of shame. "Pick me up from the place you dropped me." I hung up not waiting for an answer. I did not have to wait long. He picked me up and did not ask any questions, silently driving away from the busy area I lived in to a place where the traffic though heavy, was smooth.
"Music?" He asked after he had carefully managed to reach a road where he could drive steadily.
"Hmm."He played bass. I hadn't heard it before. I know my knowledge of music was pretty bad. I hadn't been exposed to much except rock, classical Indian and Bollywood. The music did nothing to lift my spirits, instead, it agitated me. The piece was devoid of vocals. I put my mind to the tune and let it take over me. With every drum, my heartbeat spiked, turning my stomach into a pit of deeper worry.
When we reached the Worli Sea face, I still hadn't made an effort to ask Agam where we were going. And I believe I still had no intentions. I had become bolder in the last few days, maybe because I had started to trust Agam in a small unknowing way.
He stopped his car abruptly and asked me to get out of the car. I wasn't thinking straight. Had I been, I would have lashed out at him from the word go.
"Let's walk." He suggested.
"I don't want to."
"But I want you to."
I reluctantly pulled myself out. I had no energy to argue, plus he was doing me a favour. We walked in silence; it wasn't cathartic if that is what he thought. It was agonizing, instead, and I wanted it to end as soon as possible.
When he spoke next, he was treading a fine line between intruding on my space and being a genuine friend.
"You couldn't have saved her even if you wanted to. She must have made up her mind to give up on life." He continued when I made no sign to argue or speak. "And this was her decision, alone! Remember that. You are not to feel guilty of what happened."
He understood my resigned stance not feeling bothered by my silence or refusal to talk. "Abhilasha, don't let your guilt crush your conscience and soul. You have done nothing wrong. Believe me and yourself."
"What if I wronged her by not listening to her? What if I wronged her by not paying attention to her? What if I wronged her by never asking her? What if I wronged her by never telling her...?
"There are so many ifs Abhilasha, but not a single I did. If only punishments were handed out based on ifs, we would all have been sinners in some of the other capacities. Because your if and my did would always result in different consequences."
"How do I...she haunts me..."
"You want her to. I am sure she must have found her peace, the one she was looking for."
"What if she was looking for peace in this world and not the other?"
"There is again an if. But possibly yes she wanted peace here. But she didn't choose that. Had she chosen peace here she would have fought for it, choosing her family and her friends as her warriors in this fight? She didn't reach out."
"She did." And I couldn't control myself anymore.
"Can I take a moment?" Agam slowed down his pace while I walked ahead. I stared at the upheaval in the waves but that was nothing compared to the upheaval within me. I finally let myself loose and forgot about the onlookers who saw me crying relentlessly. I couldn't stop my tears from flowing. When I couldn't bear the pain anymore I looked heavenward and cried Manto's name softly.
"Can you see me? Are you happy to see me like this?" I shouted. When nothing could console me and stop my incessant guilt, I broke down into sobs which turned finally into wails. I sat down feeling helpless, weak in my knees. People around kept staring but I had stopped past caring.
Agam took me in his arms and stroked my back, offering no words in consolation but just his presence and warmth. I held him tighter, hiding my face in his chest. I was clinging like a needy person. Even if he hated it he didn't flinch for a moment, letting me be.
When I stopped crying, I still didn't extricate myself from his arms. He didn't bother either. After about what seemed like hours to me he turned my face to him and looked me in my eyes, which I am sure had turned red and puffy with my incessant crying.
"Let it go. Just for now. Tomorrow let's bid her farewell and then if there is a need, we will search for some answers in the past." He searched for an answer in my eyes when I didn't muster the courage to speak. I blinked my eyes in approval. He held my hand and spoke, "Ready to go?"
"Where?"
"Home." He announced chuckling.
I felt a twinge of sadness. I wanted a little more of him and his kind attention. I was not ready to go home and be engulfed by my sad thoughts and loneliness. Then again I couldn't bring myself to ask that. So, I followed him into the waiting car like a meek puppy.
I hopped on quickly, fastening the seat belt. If there was any awkwardness that we felt on account of our physical intimacy, both of us didn't show. We remained cool as cucumbers.
"Thank you." I broke the silence hoping to continue talking and not let it die. He did not speak much, nor looked at me, focusing his eyes on the road.
Were we friends? I wondered. If I needed a label to understand what was transpiring between us, I did not try to understand. However, I was sure my heart was warming up to him despite his stoic, indifferent and caring attitude.
"Are you hungry?" This was so out of the blue that it did not register in my mind for the first few minutes. He broke away his eyes from the steering to look at me questioningly.
My reply was quite lame, "I am sorry but I did not hear you." What could I have said, I am trying to figure us out and didn't hear what you said or yes something is wrong with my head; which though believable would have made me looked crazy. I inadvertently rolled my eyes at my own stupidity.
"You want to grab an early dinner?" And with a pointed question like this, I was obligated to answer. I was hungry and it seemed like the best option considering I couldn't go home.
"Yes,"
"Great!" I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he was spending time with me on a working day.
"How are you not working today?" I turned to look at him.
"After last night's debacle, I was terribly hungover and down with a splitting headache. So, I took a day off." He explained.
"Oh, so what were you doing at the office in the afternoon?"
"I dropped in to hand in a few documents related to a story."
"Uh...huh..." I grunted.
"Umm..." He hesitated and then continued. "Thank you for dropping me home." I smiled at him offering no words.
That was it and I should not expect more. This was the best he could offer me in terms of his gratitude for my act of utter selflessness.
"What about Shash and Nandi? Did the two reach their destination?"
"I got a message from Shaaket at five-thirty in the morning and I suppose Nandita had to catch a flight an hour later. So, I suppose they were okay..."
And I stifled a laugh, drawing the image of those two scampering for their clothes early in the morning, rushing to reach the airport.
Agam looked enquiringly, "What made you laugh?"
"The image of the two after their post-coital bliss," I spoke unabashedly.
"Ewww... that's gross Abhilasha, coming from you."
"Are you judging me?"
"Umm...no. Just...leave it." And he gestured with his hand for me to drop the topic. I still couldn't bring to control myself and continued laughing. He parked his car at a kerb of the lane which though deserted was located on a very busy road.
"We need to walk to the restaurant. I hope you don't mind."
"I don't have a choice."
"Pretty much."
It wasn't a long walk. It was situated right at the corner. Its exterior screamed of an old fashioned house but it had been turned into a small restaurant by the owners. I walked in to be enthralled by the interiors. It was stunning and that was the understatement of the year. It was beautifully decorated and exuded an old-world charm of the French style but modernized through the minimalistic technique. The furniture was traditional and the different styles of art pieces hanging on the wall completed the look. We rang the bell to let the owners know we had stepped in. We were ushered in by a good-natured hostess to a cosy table overlooking the sea. Tonight I couldn't have asked for more.
"This is a very fancy place." I gushed.
"Papa's princess wouldn't settle for less." Agam contorted his face to mock me.
For the lack of a clever answer, I resorted to the very basic, "funny", and ended it there.
"Would you like a glass of wine to begin with?" The waiter questioned us with eagerness to please.
"Water is fine, unless the lady feels otherwise," Agam replied ceremoniously.
I rolled my eyes at him and politely declined the offer. My heart sank looking at the menu card. The restaurant served French cuisine, of which I had no idea. I was about to make a fool of myself. The names were fancier than the ingredients and I was sure I would pronounce them wrong. I made a silent prayer, hoping against hope that Agam would order for the both of us.
"Anything you like?" I dreaded his words immediately.
I found one I could pronounce confidently, and though it contained fish, I made up my mind to thrust it down my throat without a fuss.
"Salmon tartine," I told the waiter, and he approved immediately. "Good choice, ma'am'" and I beamed with pride. Agam ordered himself a Coq Au Vin and Quiche Lorraine. The waiter disappeared immediately giving us some space to enjoy the view and the ambience of the place.
"Do you come here often?" I asked him dreamily.
"Nope, just when I need someone to boost my ego. And nothing beats the way the waiters do it here."
I laughed without care. He joined me too.
"Will you come for Manto's funeral?" I enquired expectantly.
"Yep, I am hoping to clear my schedule for that. Would you like to speak to her parents?"
"I am planning to. I don't know how they would react to..."
"You as the last person of contact before she committed suicide. You are overthinking it."
The food arrived which abruptly halted our conversation. The waiter served us, engaging Agam in small talk about the food and business on weekdays.
"Chew upon things later, for now, enjoy the food," Agam told me as soon as the waiter left.
Agam served me a large portion of his quiche and the moment I dug in, the frothy chicken with cream and mushroom sauce made me wish I had ordered it for myself. He offered me more but I felt ashamed of robbing him of his food. I ate the salmon tartine, and though it tasted well, it wasn't much to my liking because it had aubergine rather than salmon.
Agam and I fell into an easy conversation about casual things and then drifting into a comforting silence, where words were not required. I did not bother to start a conversation again, enjoying the view, food and Agam's silent presence much more than anything tonight.












