‘Hello?’ My voice is sandpaper.
There’s silence. Then her voice, clipped and frantic. ‘Aditi. Where are you?’
I don’t answer.
‘I saw the list,’ she says.
I don’t answer.
She continues, ‘Aman was on it.’
I want to say he missed the flight. Changed his mind. But my lips part and nothing comes out.
‘I’m coming,’ she says before I can say anything. The line cuts.
‘It’s too late,’ I say after it cuts.
Thirty minutes later, I see her through the glass. She’s running. Eyes scanning until they find mine. She’s arguing withthe guard. A little later, he lets her go. As I look at her, it’s hard to fathom I was angry with her. Did any emotion mean anything in front of what I’m feeling right now?
She drops beside me on the floor and pulls me into a hug so tight I feel something crack deep inside. I sob like a child. I shake and she holds me closer and it only makes it worse.
‘I should’ve called you,’ I whisper.
‘Stop,’ she says. ‘Just stop.’
Her hand finds mine.
Raghav is nearby. Hovering. Why is he not broken? I feel anger prick at my skin. I see him hand tissues to a mother holding a photocopy of her son’s passport. I see him place a gentle hand on an old man’s shoulder. I see him crouch to pick up a crying kid’s fallen toy and hand it back with a nod.
‘No survivors confirmed yet,’ I say. ‘Maybe.’
She nods, but we both know what yet really means.
‘I keep thinking . . .’
‘Don’t do this,’ she says. ‘Please don’t go there. It’s not because of you.’
‘It’s not,’ I say. ‘It’s because of them . . . Maa . . .’ I say between sobs. ‘Papa . . . Bhaiya . . . his family . . . it’s because of them.’
Raghav appears. His jacket in hand. He drapes it around me. Places juice, biscuits, a charger near me. His jacket... that brought me bad luck. He should have never placed it on me in the night.
‘I have called Aman’s brother,’ he says. ‘He will be here soon.’
‘Don’t be oversmart!’ I scream at him. ‘They don’t deserve to be here!’
Raghav gives me a long look and walks off. I watch his back disappear into the crowd. Carrying grief like it’s his job? Does he even feel it? He doesn’t.
I lean into Tejal. My body into her. I feel if I don’t clutch her, I will float away into nothingness. Her thumb strokes mine,absentmindedly, like she’s rewinding the months we didn’t talk. Erasing away everything.
The ambulances outside haven’t moved. Their lights still flash. Red, then blue, then red again. We stay there. Together. And that’s when I see two people carry a stretcher out. On it, a charred body. Hard. Falling over. Lifeless. A person. Now nothing.
14
Raghav
We’re asked to move.
Not gently. Not cruelly either. Just . . . officially.
