To break the awkwardness Boudi said, ‘We should all go to Ansal Plaza. My treat?’
‘What’s that?’ asked Maa.
‘It’s a mall, Maa,’ said Boudi.
‘Ansal? Are they the same?’ asked Maa looking at Dada. Dada nodded. ‘No one is going there!’ shrieked Maa. ‘Not even you and Mamoni! Did you forget Uphaar?’
‘That was more than two years ago,’ said Dada.
‘How does it matter how many years ago? People don’t change. No one will go to Ansal Plaza.’
Two years ago, a fire had broken out at Uphaar, the cinema hall we were to go to that evening but changed plans at the last instant. Fifty-nine people choked to death. Dada had boycotted the place.
The next day, Maa–Baba went to Kali Baari and prayed for our good fortune. They donated a small gold set of Maa’s to the gods.
Later, when Maa told Baba about Boudi’s promotion, Baba said, ‘So she’s Anirban’s boss now?’
‘She still wants to go to office,’ said Maa.
‘You see, no matter what you do, she will never change. She has her claws in our son.’
‘People don’t change,’ said Maa.
The conversation ended there.
While Maa came home, I stayed back at Dada’s place from where I left for Brahmi’s place to see if she would turn up at the window. Boudi said, ‘Be careful, Raghu. If you need help, tell me.’
‘Brahmi doesn’t need help. She will take care of herself.’
‘Then why are you so worried?’ she asked.
‘Because I need her.’
I left and like every day I stared at her window. And then something snapped and I found myself climbing the scaffolding faster than she or I had ever climbed. Within a minute I was at her closed window. I knocked lightly and there was no response. I whispered her name and it was futile. Learning from what I had seen in a movie, I wrapped my T-shirt around my hand and punched the glass which gave in. I let myself in. The room was empty. The bed—gone. The cupboard—gone. The candles lay strewn around. Her clothes weren’t there. Neither were her books.
Brahmi didn’t need me.
She had helped herself.
23 November 1999
Today’s the fourth day with no news of Brahmi’s whereabouts. Yesterday her Tauji had chased me out their apartment complex when I had asked him about Vedant.
To distract myself, I spent today evening in Dada’s flat watchingHip Hip Hurray, a TV show set in DeNobili High School. It’s fiction because schools like these don’t exist. No one in the show knows how to tie a knot, or tuck in his or her shirt, and every skirt ends above the knee. The story is about eleventh and twelfth graders but none of us behave as audaciously as they do. The kids also look much older. And what kind of a name is DeNobili High School? Why couldn’t their stories be more real? Like of a girl who misses her parents so much she pretends that they are alive? Like of a boy who misses that girl so much he feels like a hole has been punched where his heart should be?
Just after the show ended and before I left, I heard Dada and Boudi fight.
Maa–Baba often ask me how Boudi and Dada live, if Boudi is regular with her namaz, and if Dada lights incense sticks every day in the little temple Maa had tucked into one corner of their bedroom. Maa makes sure she’s never in their house when it’s time for Boudi’s namaz. One time, I caught Maa cradling Boudi’s prayer mat.
‘What are doing with that?’ I had asked her.
‘Nothing, I was just . . . cleaning the house,’ she had answered looking away.
To keep up with and to beat Boudi’s religious fervour, Maa–Baba have taken to praying more often. It’s not only on Tuesdays but Mondays and Fridays too that I have to go the temple. Arundhati doesn’t mind. ‘It’s so calming,’ she says. But it’s not, and it’s infuriating. My prayers for Brahmi have come to naught. Baba noticed my disinterest the day he came along. Tired and angry at Baba correcting my chants in front of the pundit and Arundhati, I had snapped, ‘I am sure our gods know English and Hindi and Bengali.’
‘And theirs don’t understand anything other than Arabic?’ Baba had retorted.
I asked Boudi the same. ‘I was wondering why Arabic? Like he could have chosen a more popular language, no? Or is it the only language he knows?’
