I stood there, my feet bolted to the ground. I thought I would cry but the tears didn’t come. Emptiness. I left with Baba shouting his curses behind me. His words crashed against my eardrums and didn’t reach my brain. I didn’t leave. I couldn’t do it. The face of that little child Anirban hovered in front of me. I couldn’t see Boudi being left alone. What would Dada think of me? Would he not haunt me if life after death exists? Baba called me a coward when I went back to my room, still smarting from the assault. In the evening, I cried into Brahmi’s arms, who told me I was the exact opposite—brave.
‘You need to stand by your Boudi,’ she said.
We spent the night together, mostly silent.
23 March 2000
Baba and I haven’t talked in two days. He walks about in the house like an evil warlord. Maybe he’s sad, maybe he’s unhinged now but I don’t care. All I know is I’m ashamed that it was him who brought me to this world. My hope that Boudi would come back was dwindling. The phone was unhooked so I didn’t know where Maa had taken Anirban. The more time went by, the more I got fidgety, wondering if he was even in the city any more. I couldn’t go and see Brahmi, scared that Boudi might come when I’m not at home. It was in the evening, and Baba was watching the TV like nothing was wrong in the world while everything was, when there was a knock on the door. My ears were pricked and I ran to the door. Baba followed after.
I opened the door and there she was. Just as Didimaa had foreseen.
Boudi without her burqa. I gasped. She looked straight through me at Baba. Her eyes empty, like the soul had been sucked out of her. Baba opened the door wider, and welcomed her inside. Baba and Boudi looked at each other for the briefest second. Boudi walked inside.
Baba closed the door behind her.
‘Call Maa,’ she said. ‘I’m ready to do what you say.’
She used the word Maa. She couldn’t look up to see me.
‘Boudi, you can’t do that,’ I said and Baba raised his hand to smack me and I readied myself to fend off that blow when Boudi shouted.
‘Raghu! It’s what I have decided.’
‘You can’t do this,’ I said.
‘It’s not your decision to take,’ she said.
‘Shut up, Raghu,’ said Baba.
‘One more word, Baba, and I will not stop at just one blow.’
Baba’s glowered at me in anger, probably wondering if I would go through with it. He knew I would.
‘That’s not the way to talk to your father,’ said Boudi. ‘Get out of the house if that’s how you have to talk to him. Your Dada wouldn’t have wanted to see you like this.’
‘He wouldn’t have wanted what you’re doing either!’
‘I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING FROM YOU,’ shouted Boudi with a dying screech. ‘STAY QUIET OR GET LOST.’ She looked at Baba and said politely, ‘Ask Maa to come home.’
I looked at Boudi, at her dead eyes, at her pale skin. Maa–Baba had made her bow down, killed her spirit, did the worst that could have possibly happened to her. She looked . . . dead. Her child was all she wanted. No matter what I said, it wouldn’t have changed things.
Baba dialled the number. While Baba talked to Maa in the other room, a single word escaped my lips.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Does god even exist?’ she answered.
‘Did you—’
‘My parents told me it was what I deserved.’
There was nothing else to say. Baba came and asked Boudi to talk to Maa. Baba put the phone on speaker. Boudi talked politely, and so did Maa, who even cried. I heard Anirban crying in the background. Boudi requested Maa to come back home, and Maa told Boudi how happy they were to be a family again.
There was nothing left for me there.
I packed a little bag, apologized for everything to Boudi, told Baba that I would never see him again, and left the house. While leaving, Baba shouted and reminded me that I was a coward. That I would stay at a friend’s place for a few days and come back home with my tail between my legs. I looked at both Baba and Boudi, standing next to each other, and my heart broke. I looked at the house, the stairs, the nameplate, and took it all in for the last time.
I knew I was never coming back. Brahmi was waiting for me when I got there. It’s time to do what we had always planned to.
