A Heart of Stone with a Coat of Gold

A Psalm of Life

Slowly but surely, the evening twilight faded into darkness. Anu didn't switch on the lights in the living room. She just remained seated on the table, in the shadows, the ambient light from the nearby rooms imbuing a yellowish hue to the air around her. Across the room, Reema was tickling Aryan, who had finally woken up after a hearty sleep. The little kid was giggling in abandon, which seemed out of place in the morose atmosphere of the room.

Neel had been cooped up in his study since their earlier encounter. She heard the study door open once, followed by the shuffling of feet behind her, towards the kitchen. She didn't turn and he didn't say a word. After a few minutes, the study door shut with a thud.

Moments later he came out again, and briskly walked to the crib, picking up Aryan. Reema seemed disappointed. Neel paid no attention, instead, his tone was stern and curt, "Reema, if I remember correctly, you kept on grumbling on the whole ride about your Maths teacher, and the long exercise she gave you to do. So, don't waste your time. I am going for a walk with Aryan. You will go to your room right now and finish your homework. When I come back, I will check. You are not to disturb your sister in the meantime. Do you understand?"

Reema didn't reply, she merely scowled, cursing herself for babbling so much during the ride. Neel didn't give in. He hmphed and repeated, "Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." She finally mumbled. Neel nodded and ambled to the other end of the room where Anu sat, dejected, crestfallen. Reema stuck out a tongue at his back and trudged towards her room.

Neel's voice didn't change, the voice was still laced with steel, "Anu, I am going out." He restated, then continued, "I have something for you in my study. Go there."

"I don't want to see anything." She whispered.

"You will go." The decibels rose by a notch.

"Why?" Her voice was going weaker.

For some strange, the faintness in her voice irked him more. "Because I am ordering you to. I will repeat once again, I am ordering you. Do you have an problem with that?" He cocked his head as if expecting a reply. Anu didn't. She felt too tired for a fight. She simply got up and headed to his study with long heavy steps.

Neel stared at her back in the dim light. Her silhouette seemed slumped, defeated; for some peculiar reason, it angered him more. He frowned as he patted his son's back. With a final shake of his head, he exited the door.

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Anu scanned the study. She was still confused, what did Neel want her to see? She edged to the bookshelf, running her fingers over the faded spines of the old books. A few books had been stuffed the other way around, their yellow leaves visible instead of the spine. Mostly Classics: Shakespeare. Tolstoy. Premchand. The ones in the section for finance references looked ancient as well, Graham, Markel. Not a sign of a new book or a modern author. It was something she had noticed earlier, his strange love for second-hand books. Or the aversion for new books. But why?

She tore her eyes from the shelves as she turned towards his desk. Something caught her eye. A lone paper, folded in two, flitted under a paperweight in the light breeze, entering from the open window. A teacup lay adjacent, the top covered with a saucer.

She pulled out the heavy wooden chair and sat down. It was uncomfortable; the bottom was hard and there were no cushions. On top of that, the chair was too high for her; it probably was right for Neel, since he was a lot taller than her.

She pulled out the paper and unfolded it. Words in deep-blue fountain ink, gleamed at her, a surreal semblance to Neel's eyes. She read.

Dear Anu,