Whisky, Women and World

Chapter 14

Later that evening, after a long and intense day of practice, Apu found himself at a crossroads. For years, he had wrestled with the idea of facing his past, of revisiting the place he had left. Now, standing at the threshold of his childhood home, he felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The decision to return had not been an easy one. He had spent hours playing out various scenarios in his mind, weighing the potential consequences of each choice.

The building, as he approached, stood as a testament to time. Its terracotta hut with its ancient charm welcomed him back with open arms. The sprawling garden, once his mother's pride and joy, still thrived, enveloping the house in a lush sea of greenery. Apu's heart swelled with nostalgia as he recognized most of the plants he had grown up with, each carrying memories of his childhood. But a pang of sorrow struck him as he noticed the absence of the majestic mango tree that had once graced the landscape. He wondered why it had been cut down and felt an ache in his heart for the loss of a cherished symbol from his past.

As he stood there, the weight of time bore down on him. Twenty-three years had passed, yet the memories felt as vivid as ever. The echoes of laughter and the warmth of his mother's embrace enveloped him, drawing him into a whirlwind of emotions. He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scents of the earth and the blossoms, and he felt a sense of belonging that he had long suppressed. Stepping closer, memories flooded his mind like a torrential downpour. He could almost hear the sound of his father's voice, the gentle rustling of the leaves, and the laughter of his friends echoing through the walls. It was as if time had stood still in this small pocket of his past.

A tender breeze swept through, carrying the distant laughter of children playing outside. As he stood there, lost in memories, a small boy rushed from the hallway and stood in front of him, seeking his attention. The boy scowled, questioning Apu about his presence in their home. Apu explained that he had come to visit a man named Unni, and the boy asked him to wait inside the house while he went to fetch his father.

Summoning all his courage, he pushed the door open, and the scent of incense and home-cooked meals enveloped him. The familiar sight of the living room greeted him and the walls adorned with photographs of his family. His gaze settled on the picture of his parents, their loving smiles and stares frozen in time. Emotion welled up inside him, and he paid his respects to the ones who had shaped him into the person he had become. The open hall in the center of the house beckoned him, just as it had done when he was a young boy. Apu took a seat on the floor, feeling the coolness of the terracotta tiles against his skin. He looked up at the sky through the grilled roof, its colors slowly transitioning from warm hues to a canvas of deep blue speckled with stars.

Darkness embraced the world outside, but the silence of the house seemed to grow, offering him a moment of solitude. Apu's thoughts drifted back to another past, his mind landed on a pivotal moment when he had confessed to his father his desire to withdraw as a Kathakali artist, to go to Mumbai, and become an actor. His father had firmly opposed the idea, believing that Apu's destiny was intricately tied to the family legacy as the greatest 'katha' (artist) of their village. Unable to bear the weight of expectation, Apu had left home the next morning, embarking on a path he believed was meant for him. With a heavy heart, he recalled the conversation he had just had with his brother, Unni. The hurtful words, the judgment, and the disdain had pierced him deeply, reminding him of the rift that had grown between them over the years.

As Apu waited, his heart beat faster with anticipation, unsure of what awaited him. When Unni finally walked in, their eyes locked, and the years between them seemed to fade away, if only for a moment. Unni's eyes held a mix of surprise, disbelief, and perhaps a hint of nostalgia. He studied Apu's appearance—the graying hair, the beard, the sunken body and contrasted it with his own. Unni had inherited their father's features, with black-dyed hair and a protruding jaw. Apu smiled as Unni's son who was introduced as Shaji and was named by their father, finding the boy's resemblance to his younger self endearing.