Chapter 6

Chapter 6-

Aman was becoming increasingly concerned by the way Anjaliji was mumbling to herself all through the rickshaw ride from the café to the office. She kept turning the pages of the folder in her lap back and forth. Was she trying to make sense of it, correlating dates and events? Or was she in shock and losing it?

He had to mute a call from ASR for fear that he would recognise his sister’s voice. He would surely get an earful about not taking the call but for now, there were more pressing matters.

When they arrived at the office, he led her into the backroom. He tried to assess her condition, but BT was already in the board room where he had set up a projector. 

Aman left her side with reluctance.

“Target ne Raizada mansion me bohot dinon se camera surveillance lagake rakha hai” BT said, casting a glance at the wall behind them. Perhaps he had his own suspicious about who was behind it. Wasn’t it usually the husband or wife who wanted to catch their cheating spouse in the act? “Ussi ke footage me se hume yeh clips mile”.

He turned on the projector and the screen came to life. “Jo aap dekhne jaa rahe hain, who kaafi dardnaak hai”

A man in a white kurta filled the screen, his back to the camera. He was seen entering one of the rooms of the house. A blue bracelet on his hand, he reached for a bottle of pills on the dresser and casually replaced them with different ones that he retrieved from a pocket in his kurta. 

“Hum confirm toh nahi kar sakthe hain” BT said, sounding slightly apologetic “Lekin hume shaq hai ki who bacha giraane ki davaai hai”

Aman’s jaw dropped. He turned to the mirror, knowing well that he couldn’t see her but before he could think any further, the clip changed. 

It cut to what appeared to be a video of ASR and Khushiji’s mehendi function and…was that Anjaliji’s god bharai? Aman recalled that both events had been on the same day, it was also the same day that Anjaliji had suffered a miscarriage.

Things turned even more bizarre when the same blue bracelet clad hand was then seen sprinkling…was that glass pieces on a door mat? 

What the hell?

With rising trepidation, Aman watched the screen as Anjaliji appeared once again and stepped right into the shards of glass. 

“Hey Bhagwan!” 

He had to cover his mouth with a fist to keep from screaming out. 

The pain on her face made his gut clench. BT who had probably seen it before, shook his head sadly and actually placed a hand on Aman’s shoulder for support.

And though he could not imagine it, it got worse. So much worse. The same pair of hands were seen now fiddling with the fairly lights wrapped around the staircase, sparks could be seen flying at the fraying end near the steps.

Aman grasped the edge of the table and watched in horror as Anjaliji, her feet dragging and trailing blood behind her, made her way to the same steps. 

“No…no…no”

Aman’s mind could not grasp the futility of trying to prevent an event in the past from occurring. 

Blood pounding in his ears, he didn’t hear her shriek when she got electrocuted and he didn’t hear the devastating thud with which she fell. But a soft moan that came from somewhere behind him pierced through the deafening silence on screen and in the room. 

“Hume lagta hai ki aap iss bechari aurat ko pehchaanthe hai aur hume bataane ki zaroorath nahi hai ki who neela bracelet kiska hai” BT said, softly. “Target sirf cheater ya criminal nahi hai, Sir. Woh ek paapi hai jisne apne haathon se apne bache ki jaan le li, aise logon ko bhawan bhi maaf nahi…”

Aman cut him off with hurried thanks. Asking him to leave all the evidence as is and promising him his due payments, he hurried past the man. 

When he opened the door to the side room, he found her sitting on the floor. Her back to the wall, she had probably turned away unable to look at the screen anymore and slunk down. Her hands clutched at her knees, she looked at him when he entered, a vacant stare in her eyes. 

He knelt beside her, raising his hand to her head. What comfort, what solace could he offer? His eyes burned with tears. God had taken Priya from him but Anjaliji, all her misery had been caused by a man, the very one who had vowed to love her. 

No, he decided, it was sacrilege to even call him a man. He had to be a demon. 

It took him a second to realise that she had spoken, her voice was so low. 

“Humne apni raajkumari ko khud maar daala”

“What?” he said, withdrawing his hand and pulling back to look at her. Had she lapsed into a state of shock?

“Jab Chotey ne unhe ghar se nikaal diya tha, tab sabke peet piche hum unse milthe rahe” she said, speaking feverishly. “Chupke se unhe ghar me bhi vaapis leke aate the, tabhi toh woh yeh sab kar paaye…tabhi toh, humaari bachi ke maut ke zimmedaar hum khud hain”

“Anjali” he said, shaking her arms. “Jo kuch hua… usme aap ki koi galathi nahi hai. Aa paisa sochna bhi mat.”

“Par unhe vaapis lekar toh hum hi aaye the na” she said, turning to face him with desperate eyes. “Unhone humaare Chotey ki jaan khatren me dal di…Khushiji ke saath, unke parivaar ke saath…aur humne unke baare me hi itna bura socha. Woh donon toh hume sach bataane ki koshish karthe rahe aur ab…itna bada dhoka. Ek pal me humaari bachi humse chin gayi…humari raajkumari.”

She broke then, gut-wrenching sobs as she held on to him. 

He let her cry for as long as she needed, sliding down to sit beside her on the floor. She spoke on and off, between tears, of how she had met him at the temple four years ago. How he had wooed her, wanted to marry her despite everything and how her gratitude had painted her loved for him. 

She had consciously decided not to doubt him despite his prolonged absences and not even when everyone suspected him. 

“Apne pati se pyaar karna, unpe vishawaas karna galath nahi hai” he said, gently rocking her. “Aapke jagah pe koi aur hota toh bhi yehi karta. Apne aap ko sambhaliye, Anjali”

She sat back, wiping her tears in futility. They didn’t seem to want to stop. 

“Hum bees saal ke the jab humaari Mamma ne suicide kiya” she said, her voice low and hoarse. “Paapa ne unhe aise hi dhoka diya tha aur woh bardaasht nahi karpaayi…fir, humari kismet me kuch aur kaise ho saktha hai?”

He stared at her, suddenly frightened. He had to call ASR, he even pulled out his phone but she reached for his hand as support to stand up. 

“Hume chalna chahiye.”

He booked a cab and insisted on dropping her home.

They passed the journey in silence; she was staring out of the window, and he was struggling to think of what to say to her. Looking at her profile, he suppressed a shudder. 

She wouldn’t do anything stupid, would she? 

 When they arrived, he got out of the car and came around to her side. He was still wondering what to say when she said,

“Amanji, aap police me complaint karva dijiye” she said, nodding at the folder in his hand. “Hum nahi chahthe ki who iss ghar me vaapis aaye”

“Aap uski fikar mat kijiye” he promised, “I’ll have them pick him at his office straightaway. He will never return to your home.”

She nodded and turned to leave but he stilled her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Anjaliji…”

“Honsla rakhiye, yehi kehna chahthe hain na aap?”

He shook his head. “Aane wale din aapke liye bohot mushkil hone wale hain, hum aapko koi jhoota dilaasa nahi dena chahthe. Sirf itna kahenge…jab aapne apni Mamma ko kho diya tha oh aapko kitni taqleef hui thi who yaad rakhiye aur…aur aisa koi kadam mat uthaiye jisse aapke parivaar aur chahne walon ko firse aisi taqleef uthaani pade”

She blinked at him for a few seconds and then her mouth opened slightly. 

“Humaara woh matlab…humne jo kahan…” she stammered and then shut her eyes briefly. “Aap ghabriye mat Amanji, zinda rehne ke kuch wajah aur baaki hai humaare paas. Hum apne Chotey…Nani aur baaki parivaar ke saath aisa kabhi nahi karenge. Aur fir humse jo galathiyan hui hain, unhe sudhaarna bhi toh baaki hai”

“I think its time for us to tell ASR” he said, sighing with relief.

“Aap divorce ke papers aur police ka report hume bhijva dijiye” she said, “Parson Chotey ka janamdin hain aur hum khud unse milne jaenge.”