"It all happened on that dreadful night. I belonged to one of the noble families during the time of the zamindars in late twentieth century. My late grandfather was a merchant in the British era and this Luthra bungalow was erected by him."
Karan ultimately began with his narration, his grip on my shoulders firm and his other free hand playing with my fingers. His enigmatic touch was so full of flavour, bringing out the reality of life from inside me, the life where there was the need of a true companion to submit one's pains to the other.
"So this was the reason why I felt your house to be built in the ancient era." I shook my head.
He continued, taking the discussion ahead. "Yes it was. My grandfather had two sons, my father Mahesh being the eldest and my uncle Dushyant the youngest. My father was a prodigal spoilt brat and my uncle was diligent and hardworking. My father used to spent his time gambling whereas my uncle quickly learnt the family's traditional business."
"You mean your uncle was more responsible kind of a son than your father?"
"He was and when my grandfather died, he had put the entire business to my uncle's name, aggravating my father for the worst. They brawled and my uncle was humble enough to put a portion of the property in my father's name. I was a child of hardly seven years old then and my uncle's wife used to make me work errands for the family. My father used to drink and gamble daily, and I used to suffer in the hands of my aunt for his deeds."
"This was so horrible, Karan. A little boy working errands! What about your mother? And does this mean that the Luthra bungalow belongs to your uncle?" My enchanting box of questions unwrapped all of a sudden.
"You need to listen to the entire thing to get the answers to all your questions, Preeta."
"I'm just getting curious, Karan. So don't your uncle have any children?" I was trying to get to Sameer's topic as quickly as possible.
"He has a son named Sameer, who is six years younger to me. My aunt put me to work errands because my cousin was an infant and she couldn't look after the household chores. Sometimes when I felt tired of working, I used to hide behind the pillared platform in the living room and listened to the discussions of my uncle with his colleagues. I was picking up the art of our family business easily unless..." His voice trailed off, sounding like the painful notes of a little child who had faced enough suffering in life.
"Isn't this the same place where I had hidden while keeping an eye on you and your friends?" I exclaimed when I heard it.
He simply nodded in affirmation before continuing, "I turned thirteen and Sameer seven, and he used to play with me whenever his mother wasn't around. Being the responsible elder brother and a skilled cook, I used to prepare relishing cuisines for him. Everything fell apart one unfortunate evening when I had gone to the market to buy groceries..."
Karan drew in an uneasy breath and and I could feel his fingers dig against the skin of my shoulder. I stayed quiet in my position, giving him the time to compose himself until he wanted to continue. "When I returned, I found my uncle with a knife which was dripping blood and my father was lying on the ground with his body insanely stabbed. I used to already dislike my uncle because he supported his wife and abused me many a times. I couldn't keep my calm seeing my father's dead body and immediately smacked my uncle's head with a vase..."
He paused, most probably waiting for my reaction. "Why will your uncle stab your father? Had they fought again for property issues?"
Karan's hand left my shoulder and he shifted to lean against the wall next to us. His eyes were welled up in tears and I knew how difficult it was to remember such a horrible past. I gently brushed my palm across his wrist to pacify the pace of his haunting memories and he stiffened, slumping his shoulders.
