Silent Downfall

Chapter Thirty-Two

"I know what you are thinking, Waseef. Life had been unfair to Mayank, no doubt, but he too had been unfair to Mamma."

"Can't deny that."

"Remember the match in which Mayank blatantly refused to shake hands with you and stomped straight out of the field?"

Waseef cleared his throat. "I am afraid it has happened more than once. And not just this."

Aanvik shook his head. "Well, he seemed excessively hostile for the first time following the incident. I am glad that Mayank isn't into politics or history. Otherwise, I am quite sure he would have blamed you for World War II as well. Perhaps even the first one."

"And for feeding Adam that apple, I suppose?"

"Ah, kid, don't feel too bad about it. He is always butchering everyone and everything, in his imagination. The last time I voluntarily opened his diary, I found the Irish team inside the refrigerator, frozen to death. It's nothing; I have seen worse." Aanvik frowned. "When you are in intense pain, it sometimes helps to hold someone responsible in your thoughts. Tormenting them therein is even better."

"As long as it doesn't become a habit. Continue."

"Three years went by. I talked to Mamma occasionally. Mayank was as crazy as ever. Then one evening, I learned from Mamma that she was ill. High fever, but nothing to be concerned about. At least that's what she said. About a week later, her husband kindly let me know that she did not make it. Mamma, just like that, was gone."

"I still believe that she had a lot to say the last time we talked," he continued, "but she did not say much. After a very long pause, she simply said that... that she loved us."

Aanvik could no longer overlook the lump forming in his throat. He stopped at once and wiped his moist eyes with the back of his palm. Waseef stood motionlessly and observed him in silence, battling the urge to walk over and hold him in a deep embrace. He let out a faint sigh and waited, allowing his friend to recollect himself.

"I wish I could see Mamma one last time," said Aanvik about a minute later, "and feel the warmth of her hand. The warmth over which I had full claim as a child turned over time into a treasure I could only dream of."

"And Mayank," he added. "I cannot tell what was going on inside his mind. Even if I were given a chance to peek into it, I would have chosen not to take it out of fear of the petrifying catastrophe I would find there. Shranav was mad at his disturbing withdrawal. He believed that Mayank should have shown this care when she was alive."

"Can't agree more."

Aanvik sighed. "I won't comment on that. Anyway, following her death, we started to grow increasingly concerned about Lucian. With Mamma gone, we had no idea how he was being treated. I tried to contact his father, but with no luck. Meanwhile, Mayank began to give us an even harder time. He started hurting himself more frequently and in all sorts of ways. We often found a small bruise here, a little cut there, and a minor burn somewhere. Shranav and I tried to get professional help for him and begged him to cooperate, but he was not ready to listen. He did not want help. He wanted Lucian."

"It's surprising how he managed to keep on playing."

"Oh, it's a good thing that he did. The game comes with its own pressure, but it has always helped him tackle a part of his grief and fury. Perhaps it's one of the greatest reasons why he hasn't ended up in a lunatic asylum yet."

"Makes sense. But no one ever realized something was wrong with him?"

"People think he has a few loose screws in his head, and that's all. Well, most of the time, he remains in dead silence. He is never actively hostile toward anyone unless he is provoked first, in one way or another," replied Aanvik. "Um, I sometimes earn a blow or two, but I don't count."