Living in a Mirage

Last Chapter

"You were the one who taught me," he said. "I never looked at you without seeing the sweetness of the way the world goes together, or without sorrow for its spoiling. I became a hero to serve you, and all that is like you."

― Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn

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Music came back into Manik's life slowly. Of course, Nandini was the source of it, like every other miracle in his life. It was the sound of her steps, her laughter, the sweet giggles, her sighs, the high notes when she was angry or annoyed, and the low notes when she was trying to imitate him with those beautiful brown eyes twinkling with mischief. Then there was the chiming of her bangles and the tinkling of her earrings, her humming under her breath, tapping her feet when nervous or impatient. Every sound Nandini made was music...

Then, with time, his headache reduced, and listening to music didn't hurt his ears, heart, and soul. His new psychiatrist thought it had been one of the side effects of taking medication he didn't need. As for Dr Shah, he hovered, swearing to want to redeem himself. Not that he had ever cared much about Dr Shah, but as he was one of the pawns and the victims of Mr Malhotra's plotting against him, Manik let him be.

With Nandini lying beside him, safe and sound in his arms, his sleep improved too. Everything changed for the better. If earlier it seemed his whole system was slowly shutting down, breaking apart because of Nandini's absence from his life, when she came back, everything started to heal and function once again.

There were times when his pessimistic brain would build up scenarios where happiness could be snatched away from him, often resulting in Manik dreaming about his father coming back into their lives to disturb the peace. One day, that fear ceased, along with his father.

It was a cloudy day - like every other day in London - when the news reached him. Three months and a few days after he had last seen his father, Madhav, his father's ever-loyal assistant, contacted him to inform him that Mr Malhotra had died of a heart attack last night, at eighty, leaving him as the only heir.

"What about Nyonika?" Manik asked.

"Mr Malhotra had divorced her a month ago," Madhav responded.

Manik didn't know why he laughed so hard at the news. Maybe because his parents' divorce was absurd. Over the years, they had told him countless times that he was the reason they hadn't divorced, yet he had never believed them. He still couldn't. Was he really the only thing that linked them together?

He met Nyonika at his father's funeral, doing her best to lay claim to the wealth Mr. Malhotra had left behind. But, much to her disappointment, because Mr Malhotra left no will, Manik was his only heir. Nyonika left, clinging to her current target, who, for once, looked to be her age. Many of Mr Malhotra's assets had been liquidated by him in his last desperate attempt to bribe the board members to let him reclaim his position to be in control of his empire he had loved so dearly. How ironic it was that, despite spending his whole life building that empire, Manik himself was the sole proof of Mr Malhotra's existence after his death. Barely. The only reason Manik did not drop his surname was out of respect for his grandfather, whom he had never met but who had provided him with more security and financial influence than his own parents.

"Do you now regret things you have done to your father?" Madhav asked once they were done with the needed procedure of inheritance, allocating his father's estate to him.

Manik sighed, looking at the man up and down. He seemed mournful. What had his father ever done to earn the unconditional loyalty of the man, Manik still wondered. "Did he ever regret what he had done to me, or anyone, for that matter?"