24. Two blobs of smoke

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A frown came up on Nidhi's face. "This is not the time to joke. Dad is getting late."

Rudra abandoned the file and raked his hand through his hair as disbelief and identity crisis tore through his senses. His voice turned hoarser as he mumbled, "I am adopted."

She heard the hurt in his intonation and saw the way his eyes had turned bloodshot, hints of moisture developing in the corners of his orbs, but she was still discombobulated. "Look, Rudra, joking about these things is normal between us, but now you are taking it a bit too far."

He chuckled humorlessly and thrust the dossier into her hands. "Am I?"

She took it from him and saw the label on the cover. Rudra Sharma, it said.

"These are legal papers," his voice shook with fury and torment, "that say I was adopted. From an orphanage."

Her neck snapped towards him, and her lips parted because of the way tears spilled out of his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. He appeared utterly devastated, and the solemn expressions on his features were enough to convey that he wasn't quipping. Nor was he lying.

Before she could conjure a coherent set of words that would make sense to her and to him, he rushed past her and descended the stairs at an enormous speed. He didn't even halt to respond to any of the numerous questions Shweta and Avinash were asking him about the pace with which he collected his keys and bag before striding out the door. He didn't cast a glance at his mother despite her requesting him to eat something before leaving. He just ignited the engine and whooshed the bike away with a velocity that left his parents astonished.

Shweta was at the door of the house, viewing the bike retreating away from her with much dismay. "He seemed angry, Avinash. He was fine before you sent him to fetch the file, wasn't he?"

Avinash nodded as lines of worry creased his forehead. "He was. Absolutely. Neither did he get me the dossier nor did he tell us what went wrong."

She pursed her lips. "You sent Nidhi to call him down. The two of them must have engaged in some pointless squabble."

"Mom? Dad?" Nidhi's unsteady voice came from behind them. "We didn't fight."

Shweta charged up to Nidhi with a scowl on her face. "Why was he so furious then?"

Nidhi trembled as she forwarded the dossier to Shweta, and she promptly recognized it. So did Avinash. The mother had her lips parted and her eyes swelled while Avinash gasped and landed on the couch with a thud as his hands went to hold his head in despair.

Tears streamed down Shweta's cheeks, and she sobbed audibly. Her worst nightmare had just come true, and she was unable to handle the overwhelming ocean of emotions hitting her from all sides and suffocating her. Yanking the file out of Nidhi's hands, she said, "He found out, didn't he?"

"I forgot to put it back in the locker," Avinash muttered. "How foolish of me!"

Nidhi sniffled as her orbs dampened too. "Is he really adopted?"

***

Rudra rode the bike all the way to the only place where his restive mind could find solace in all of Delhi. Instead of choosing to attend the important classes of the day, he elected to plop on a bench in front of the famed monument of Qutb Minar. He was not certain about how to react to the situation. He was enraged at his parents because of the truth that had been concealed from him for his entire life. He was saddened to know they didn't share blood and Shweta was not the woman who gave birth to him. He was anxious to know who his real family was. Was he abandoned right after birth? Was it an illicit affair that brought him into the world? Did his mother love him? Did his father ever hold him in his arms? Where were they now? Were they even together? Were they even alive? What if someone killed them due to a conspiracy and rendered him to be an orphan?

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