Paakhi

T W E N T Y O N E

Shaan's brain continued to attempt to put together the varying pieces of information that they had managed to gather so far, as they followed the receptionist through the corridor and up a majestic and grand flight of stairs. Here, there were rooms lined on both sides. A rough assessment told him that there were about thirty rooms in this building.

Apratim had given this woman a green signal for their entrance, but Shaan did not trust him one bit. Even as they wordlessly followed the woman, he was entirely too preoccupied with taking in their surroundings to ensure he knew a way out for the both of them in case the need arose. Aside from the sound of jingling keys from the bunch in the woman's hand resonating in the corridor, there was pin drop silence. It was difficult to believe that behind these closed doors, they really did have people living.

Shaan had never really been on the best terms with his parents, but this set up made him feel somewhat sad. These were real people; someone's mother, someone's father, someone's grandparent- completely cut off from the world, left by themselves at a juncture in life when they needed the most amount of love and support. Taking a deep breath in, Shaan forced his mind back at the scene before them.

After the last mess up, Aritro had done a good job keeping his mouth shut and following him without any contradictions whatsoever. So far, they'd done a decent job together. And if he was being perfectly candid, he hadn't expected them to even reach this far.

Upon reaching a door number 14, the woman paused to go through the bunch in her hand. Shaan gulped, "You have them locked in their rooms?"

The woman only half turned towards him as she fumbled for the required key, "Not all of them. But Shikha Aunty has shown violent fits ever since her arrival, she needs to be kept in isolation for the most part."

Aritro visibly gulped after hearing this last statement of the receptionist, his eyes widening at Shaan.

"She isn't supposed to have visitors, but since you know Atreyi, I think it will help jog her memory up."

Aritro was shaking his head anxiously now and Shantanu found him glaring at the man with anger. His eyes screamed You don't dare open your mouth.

After what seemed like a decade to Shaan, the lock finally clicked open and the receptionist walked into the room gingerly. But she had raised her hand with a gesture for asking them to wait outside. And so, they did.

"Good morning, Aunty." She greeted with a friendly voice, as he heard her fuss over the woman. He wasn't sure if she did this all just as a part of her job, but for what it was worth, she sounded like she genuinely cared.

The old woman, with a somewhat frail voice sounded very pleasant and happy in her presence and Shaan struggled to picture that voice having violent fits. A couple of moments later, the woman opened the door in invitation and said, "Come in."

Shikha Bandopadhyay didn't look anything like the voice he had heard. Her voice had been leaden, tired and hoarse...almost aged. But she didn't look like she was a day over fifty years of age.

She was definitely not a face he had ever seen before. Yes, there was resemblance with Vandana- like the delicate lips and the sharp, high cheek bones, but that's pretty much where the similarities ended. He didn't know the woman; she wasn't supposed to know him either. So then why was it that she was smiling so warmly at him?

And why was it, that that smile wasn't particularly motherly? It was almost...almost...

"Do you recognize him Aunty?" The receptionist asked hopefully, and Shikha Bandopadhyay smiled widely, "I do."

What the hell was she talking about?

Shaan turned to his side reflexively, somewhat glad to not be here all alone. But then he saw the condition of the man next to him; Aritro was looking pale and frozen. It didn't take long for him to conclude that it wouldn't be too prudent of him to expect too much help from there.

"That's Rajeev." Shikha Bandopadhyay beamed with almost childlike innocence at him, and he struggled to recall Vandana ever mention a Rajeev to him.

The receptionist looked somewhat pleased. "Well, are you?"

Shantanu blinked, "I'm sorry?"

"Did she recognize you? Are you Rajeev?"

Was she really always this gullible? Because if she was, it made her a really shitty caretaker cum receptionist, or whatever the hell her job description entailed. She had literally given him a hand-out.

Shantanu gave her his most convincing smile as he nodded, "Yes. Yes, I am. I'm so glad she recognized me."

Elated, the receptionist smiled at the woman lovingly. For a fleeting moment, his stomach flipped with guilt, "Okay then, I'll leave you two to catch up." Well, that was easy. "Um..." she whispered, when she had neared Shaan, "...You see that switch by the bed there?"

He followed her gaze and nodded, "Ring that in case of any, you know, emergencies."

Shaan gazed at the switch again, "Okay, thank you."

And with that, the woman left.

Shantanu gulped, and his eyes scanned the bedroom in silence in search for some inspiration. He had never had to interrogate someone not particularly mentally stable without any professional help before, so he was going to have to be slow and play it really, really safe. He had to make sure not to trigger a manic episode for the woman.

"What took you so long, Rajeev?"

Shantanu looked back at the woman, trying not to feel as uncomfortable as he did that instant. In doing so, he struggled to remind himself that the older woman thought she was talking to Rajeev; whoever the hell that was, not him.

"I'm sorry." He said, sounding as apologetic as he could.

The woman's eyes were now tear stricken, a reflex that led her to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. When she did, she let out a low sniffle and her head hung low. And from this particular angle of her face, she reminded him too much of Vandana.

Shaan suddenly started feeling claustrophobic in the room. He had felt whatever he had for Vandana; so strongly and for so long, that every little thing was triggering memories of her- memories he could swear he had all but forgotten. Seeing her mother like that, he remembered dropping her off at the main road after that day on the beach. She had barely looked at him the entire time in the auto ride. She had looked exactly as her mother did that instant, and he had struggled with figuring out what more to say to her.

"Vandana." He had finally said gently that day, wondering if it was a good time to confess his feelings. But then again, what would he say to her? What he felt for her was something that was so much more than just love.

"Shaan; I need to say something to you." She'd cut him then, finally turning to look at him.

Shaan had nodded eagerly.

"You have been such a good friend to me for all these years; you have cared for me, protected me in your own way and I am so grateful to you for that." Even before she had said the rest, Shaan had felt his stomach dip; this was not how love confessions usually started, "Everything I have ever hidden from you in the past, or hide from you today is only because of how much you mean to me."

Back with her riddles!

"...I'm going to leave this house; I'm going to leave real soon. And I will do it my way; on my own."

Shantanu stared on; confused, "What are you-"

"-I'm asking you to not look back after you leave from here. Don't call me, don't look for me. Stay as far away as you can from anything that has anything to do with me."

At this, Shantanu had felt uncontrollable rage. She had the right to make her own choice, but who had given her the right to tell him what to do? He hadn't managed to say anything for almost the whole of the remaining auto-ride; from the fear of saying something unparliamentary that he would later regret.

At last, he'd calmed himself down.

"I can respect that." And after a pause, "But I stand by my words; I hope you never need it, but if you ever do need my help, don't think twice. Reach out to me; and I will do everything in my power to help."

Vandana had gulped, "Why...?"

He had steeled himself, blinking, "I guess it doesn't matter anymore."

***