Seven

13. Comprehension

Sunday, December 23, 2018

The news could not be fabricated, not in the case of six incidents. Khaleed had done a neat collation for each of the names that he had given; place, time and cause of death. There was no dispute about the place, each had died in the exact location that Raghuveer remembered and at the time he specified. The only difference was in the cause of death. Shiraj had died from an undetected brain tumour that had erupted and had caused a brain stroke, Dr Mitra from an unexpected heart attack. Deepshika had been shot by the union leader who had given a full confession that he had acted under orders from Mr Gupta and Arjun had died from knife wounds inflicted by Muthuswamy, who had been arrested and now awaited trial. A ruptured appendix had resulted in Annapurna's death and Satish was a victim of a sudden brain stroke caused by the bursting of an aneurysm. There was no evidence of any bullet injuries except in Deepshika's case, and the bullets had not been from Glock 17.

Raghuveer was nonplussed and bemused, unable to connect the facts in plain writing and his vivid memories. Finally, he gave up trying to make sense of things, though a cold voice occasionally echoed in his head. One which sternly forbade him from harbouring guilt.

Friday, June 14, 2019

Tarun received his birthday gift a day earlier when Dr Anand pronounced the Brachytherapy radiation treatment had succeeded beyond expectations, and he could consider himself ninety-eight per cent cured. The tiny remaining piece of tumour, shrunk to negligible proportions, would not cause any issues in future, as the implanted radioactive seeds would ensure that it could never grow again.

That afternoon, once they reached home and everyone gathered for an impromptu celebration, Raghuveer entered the puja room and sank to his knees. Never a fervent believed in God or the divine, he somehow could not deny the inexplicable intervention of the supernatural. Despite none of the factual recounting or the logical explanations matching with the memories he had, he knew what he had done. Accepting that the last thing he heard that guilt was useless he refused to submit to that emotion. Regret yes, remorse of course, but he would veer from feeling guilt.

He let his thoughts wander, though he could not stop wondering about how Kamakshi had also changed over the six months. A devout woman, the puja room had numerous pictures and figurines of various gods and goddesses. Her monthly cleaning ritual would take her more than five hours, as she diligently wiped the glass-covered prints and scrubbed the brass idols, the lamps and other paraphernalia. Now the walls were bare, gone were all the photographs and the multitude of the figurines. All that remained was the solid brass singhasanam and a single set of idols which were placed in it. The brass lamps hanging from the roof gleamed, the empty walls a resounding proof of Kamakshi's waning faith in God.

Raghuveer sagged, that was equally inexplicable and ironic, her faith dwindled as he had started to believe in the existence of God. He knew that he was partly responsible for that too; one was his insistence that they meet Dr Anand and now she believed that the doctor and his new approach was responsible for Tarun's cure. Her gratitude had manifested by a newfound faith in medical sciences and a reducing belief in divinity. The other was the argument they had, for which he had not apologised till date. Kamakshi had turned hysterical when she had seen him shoot himself and sworn that she would give up all her religious rituals if he survived.

He smiled, he had never given up any opportunity to make fun of Kamaskhi or pretend to be highly irritated when she organised those prayer meetings. And he would often mock that he would pray to God that she give up this meaningless displays, which would have her laughingly reply that she would not mind what he prayed for as long as he did pray. And today, it was strange that when he got what he wanted he was not quite happy.

His knees ached, reminding him that he had been sitting for quite some time but he refused to move, while he was at it, he might as well pray. Though it did feel awkward and he did not know what to say. As he sat with his head bowed, he heard his grandmother, 'Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances.'

Maybe that was good advice, he thought, he had a list of things to be grateful for. He lost all sense of time as he sat on his knees, writing a list of things he should be grateful for; his family, his friends with extra gratitude for Khaleed, his army mates, the doctors, the list seemed endless.

"Naanaaa..." the excited cry of Trisha broke his reverie and he groaned, the past few months had taken a toll on his physical health, his bones creaked from sitting on his knees for so long. He staggered to his feet, holding out his hands to steady himself, Trisha's excitement filling the house as she called to him. As he stepped out of Puja room he almost collided into her, her laughter not abating as he held her to stop them from falling.

"Come Naana, you have to see this"

Raghuveer allowed himself to be pulled, only partly listening to what Trisha was saying, though her elation at a seemingly mundane incident was infectious. He laughed at what she said, her joy was another thing to be grateful; he had almost forgotten how radiant his daughter looked when she smiled. Trisha and Tarun were close and being twins the sibling bond was stronger. Trisha had suffered the most during the past months, especially when she could give in to her sadness only in the privacy of her room.

They stopped when they reached the verandah, where his parents, Kamakshi, Tarun, Khaleed and Ameena were already there. Trisha dragged him outside and clung to his arm, dancing as she pointed out to something. Raghuveer threw his other arm around Tarun and pulled him close.

Glancing at his family standing beside him, all watching with similar expressions of wonder, he felt the familiar rush of gratitude and joy swell through him. When he felt Khaleed's hand on his shoulder, he let go of Tarun for a minute to grasp it tightly, there could never be enough words to let him know how much he valued their friendship. With them beside him, he could fight his internal battle, even if logic dictated that neither regret nor remorse was necessary.

Tightening his arms around his children, he looked at what had delighted his daughter so much that she had dragged the entire family out onto the veranda.

Painted across the sky was a bright rainbow; its fiery reds and glittering blues sparkling in the afternoon sunlight, the arch a clear band of colours as the ends plunged into the distant earth. It was a beautiful sight, exciting on its own. What added to the marvel was a reflection of the rainbow, the cold jewel tones glowing against the azure sky, as it stretched upwards, as if trying to reach the heavens above.

He stared at that stunning display of colours, a rare marvel of nature, a double rainbow.

Maybe, there was hope for him, after all. 

And with that we come to an end of the tale. How was it? I would love to know what you thought of the whole tale, please do let me know.

Thank you for reading,
Nyna