Forget-Me-Not: Taste of Freedom

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

November 2012

Abhay's old house was in a quiet corner on Pali hill-a sprawling mansion two floors high, majestic in its appearance with Classical style columns and pediments. As Dia stopped her car inside the gates, the three of them stared up at the all-white bungalow, letting out a collective sigh. "Wow," Dia murmured. It was Saturday afternoon, and Vidhi, Geet and Dia had driven together to meet at Abhay's place, as they had decided that night. The thought of what they were going to do there was nagging each one of them, but they were trying to keep their nerves in check.

As they got out, the front door opened and Abhay appeared in the doorway. Unlike the other times they had seen him, he was now dressed casually in a ratty old t-shirt and half-length chinos. He was smiling slightly as he waved at them. He must have heard Dia honking; she smiled back at him, feeling nothing of her old animosity, and said, "You look different."

"I'm on holiday."

Vidhi and Geet didn't say anything.

"Come in," Abhay said, ushering them inside. They took off their shoes by the shoe rack, and Geet gasped softly as they moved in. They were hit once more by the splendor of his house, by the sheer size and space that it offered. The floors were shiny, polished marble; the furniture was dark wood and floral patterned upholstery, very classical, just like the exterior. Paintings hung on the wall, at strategic positions to catch and hold the eye. Vidhi was staring at a huge photograph on the wall when Abhay snapped a finger before her eyes, bringing her back to reality.

"Your family?" she asked, motioning to the picture.

They both stared at the portrait of four, and Abhay felt a slight tensing in his muscles; the picture was taken ages ago, when he and Kaira had still been children, and his parents had still been together. He nodded. "Yeah. My parents, and my younger sister."

"Is she still in Pune with your mother?"

"No; she's in London, getting an MBA."

"Oh."

"So, are we ever going to go inside?" Dia asked.

Abhay flashed her a playful grin and said, "If you don't want to, you can stay here."

"No, thank you very much. I want to see the rest of your place."

Before they did anything else, Abhay gave them a tour of the house. It had been many years since he had been here himself; as he showed them into the various rooms and told them about his house and its occupants, a myriad of memories crept up. Memories from his childhood, from his adolescent years, and from his youth. He spoke with obvious affection about everyone but his father, Vidhi thought to herself. Even back then, when they'd talked about his family, he'd seldom said anything about his father. She shook herself, scolding herself for remembering old times, different times. Things had changed now. There was no reason to think of the past and yearn for it. Some things could never come back.

"So..." Geet said, after they'd finished watching the house, and complimenting him on it. "What now?"

"Let's go to the living room," Abhay said. They followed him outside, and he gestured to the huge sofas. "Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Water, something to drink?"

They declined.

Abhay went over to the full screen television, and picked up the remote. After inserting Ananya's pen drive into the USB slot, he returned to settle down on the ottoman. Everyone else had gone quiet, he realized. He turned around to look at Dia's tense expression, Geet's calm one and Vidhi's agitated one.