Shape of the Sun

Saying goodbye is not always hard

The news outlets were just soaking it up. They had revealed their true vampiric selves, eating up everything alive. There was no way the Reddy family was going to escape this one so easily.

No matter how slick Bhairav, the old geezer was, Anand didn't think he could escape the media who was having a field day rubbishing his family to pieces. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, a wry smile on his face.

As if he couldn't link this to someone so close. Anand felt a slight chill but he knew that his time was up. He had to go and now. Dad had told him that he couldn't be anywhere near India when Bhairav recovered, and he had no intention to stay and suffer his wrath either. Someone as useless as he couldn't stand it.

But it wasn't like he could leave without saying goodbye. Anand set his phone down, ignoring an incoming text with Shilpa's name on it. He didn't want her to know that he was leaving, it felt a certain kind of bittersweet.

"Sir, we are here."

"Okay, thank you." He patterned his speech after a certain someone related to Bhairav. That figure in his mind also had a powerful presence that had made him both envious and respectful, even in his hedonistic heydays. Anand was glad he was leaving the country, he'd say it over and over.

The driver came over to open the door and he stepped out and into the police station. As soon as the officers saw him, they approached with enthusiastic smiles and after a few pleasantries and repeated assurances, he was led to a cell at the far end of the corridor, a little ways from the others. It also looked different inside and was furnished to boot. One would think it was a loft and not a prison.

Dad looked well. Anand was happy.

"You are watching the news, Dad?"

"Hmm. I have nothing else to do here, do I?"

"Mmmm. Have you seen what they are saying about Priyanka Reddy?" He was curious.

"Yes, what a tragedy. She was so young and beautiful."

"It doesn't change anything."

The older man said nothing to that, allowing his son to finish tying the belt of his coat in silence. It was a bit cold in. Shakti had forgotten. He couldn't feel anymore.

Anand made a bow, a satisfied expression on his face that made his father smile which in turn, startled him. It had been such a long time since he had done so. It had been when he was very young and his mother was still alive. It made Anand feel a certain type of way he couldn't quite word.

None of these escaped the older man's eyes and he patted his son gently on the arm with his right hand, the left turning off the television that went on and on about the misbehaving Reddy daughter. Shakti thought the little time left was to focus on his family.

"There, there. What does it look like for a grown man to be crying?"

As if in response, his son wiped his face on his sleeve, not willing to admit defeat. When he looked back at his father, it was a face that successfully reflected stubbornness notwithstanding the tear marks left on his face. Shakti chuckled and motioned for him to sit. Anand didn't want to do so until he did, claiming that he would feel uncomfortable. Shakti had no choice but to give in and sit on the bed, leaving the armchair for his son.

The two men looked at each other for a moment. Anand spoke up first, breaching a subject that they were both well aware of.

"I'll be traveling to Italy today."

"I know." He had bought the ticket and paid for the school.

"Yeah. How long would you be here again?"