Judaiyaan [ON HOLD]

Fathers

Birju left the cafe with a broken heart. He had too much. The fact that he had to let go of his mother and the sight of Samaira giving an infinite care towards Ridant made him only want to spill the tears in his eyes. He saw it through his own eyes how Samaira deliberately held Ridant's hand and talked as if he was never there. He could not believe that he had to lose both women he loved on the same day. Neither Samaira nor Ridant would understand how bad it crushed him. No one knew how devastated he was.

“Thank you, Mr. Das.”

Birju stepped out of his car and looked at his house. The five-stairs house was way too big to be resided by three family members, ten helpers and three chauffeurs. Its already quiet ambiance was getting worse by the absence of the lady. For Birju, it was a home. Was. It was a home when Mahika was still there, filling every room of the house with her laugh and Gayatri Mantra-chanting every morning. Now they all disappeared along with the lady. If there was ever something lacking in this house, it was Mahika.

“Birju! Finally. Come here, son. The match is about to begin.”

Birju stopped. His father, Piyush, just came out of the kitchen with two cans of beer and a bowl full of french fries. He brought it to the living room where the television was showing a cricket match between RCB** and CSK**. Birju was a big fan of Virat Kohli, contrary to his father who was a die hard fan of Mahendra Singh Dhoni. When Mahika was still here, they would watch the match together and bet on who was going to win. The winner would be served with the lady's signature dish, a special Hyderabadi mutton biryani. Since she was not here, Birju had lost the appetite for anything.

“Is this all you can do? Acting like nothing happened?” Birju asked, making Piyush frown his forehead.

“What are you talking about? This is your Kohli. He is playing. Come sit here.”

“Mama is missing, Dad! She is gone! How can you be so okay while she is out there waiting hopelessly to be helped?” Birju shook his head in disbelief.

Piyush put down the TV remote and walked to his only son. He tried to rub his shoulder to calm him down, but he instead got an unexpected response. Birju brushed his hand off rudely leaving him no choice but to form a smile.

“You are right. She is gone. But life goes on, puttar**. You can not mourn her forever. We should get a move on, it helps us cope with the difficult situation.”

Birju misunderstood his words. He could not find a way to say it better. What he just said about Mahika was so unacceptable. Birju did not want to admit that he really lost his beloved mother. He believed in his heart that Mahika was alive. It was just a matter of time till they met again. One thing he did not realize yet was how the time works. He believed in time and future while time itself, in this age, was flexible and independent of fate.

“If there was ever her funeral, the waters of the Ganga had not even dissolved her ashes. Her perfume still wafts throughout the room in this house and you already think of how you will forget her? Your own wife?” Birju took a step forward, glared at his father fiercely.

“It doesn't make sense to me. All of it. Do you really think it was an accident? Such a big ship just drowned away in a storm? With no trace of the accident left?”

Piyush wiped his face and sighed. “Birju, the authorities said so. I don't have the power to intervene. What else can ordinary people like us do? You tell me now.”

“Anything! We can do anything. There is always a way. You just are not willing to do that. Maybe it's easy for you to come out of the mourning over her unconfirmed death, but not for me. I will find out about this. I will solve this. I will bring justice to my mother. You can stay enjoying your life and move on. I won't.”