Monday, June 28, 2010

Loch View

The Sumo rattled on yet another pothole on the uneven and lonely hill road. There was dense vegetation all around.

“At this rate, I will soon need a restroom,” 40-year old Divya said from the back seat.

“I’ve been needing one for 10 minutes now,” Chandrasekhar, her 70-year old father said from the front seat.

Saar, are you sure you have the right direction?” Shanmugam, the driver, looked at Divya’s husband Ramesh through the rearview mirror and asked.

“I don’t know, ask our navigator!” Ramesh said and looked back at his 17-year old son, Aakash who had somehow folded his lanky frame into the rear of the vehicle and was crouched on the small seat.

Aakash consulted the print out of Google map he was carrying. “I think so. We must be very close to the resort,” he said.

Shanmugam exchanged glances with Ramesh again through the rear-view mirror. “The thing is, I am from this region, but I’ve never heard of the place,” he said.

“You said the same thing about the lake, but there it is,” Aakash pointed to the fairly large lake that was glittering in the late evening sun to their left, down the slope of the hill they were attempting to climb.

“True, nobody except for the people from the last village we passed through knew of the lake,” Divya was forced to support her son.

“Which was half an hour ago. I haven’t seen a single human being after that,” Ramesh said, throwing a laughing glance at his son.

“We saw that little goat herd girl,” Chandrasekhar observed.

“But she didn’t know about the resort,” Ramesh retorted. “Your resort seems to be a little too exclusive, Aakash,” he said.

“Oh she was too little,” Divya came to the girl’s defense. “Plus I think you scared her.”

“And the resort is not exclusive—it’s just new, and not many people know about it,” Aakash rose to the bait. “But I showed you the reviews on the Internet.”

“Yeah but how do you know they are reliable? For all we know, it could be a rundown motel type of place,” Ramesh said, looking out of his window. “And with every passing tree, I am getting convinced that it will be the case.”

“Oh don’t tease him Ramesh. You were the one who did all the booking!” Divya chided.

“Oh I let myself be swayed by his ‘save the earth’ plea. And now I think it is 25 K down the drain,” Ramesh said, but his eyes were laughing.

“All I want to say is, if we turn back, Madurai is two hours from this place. I definitely need to make a rest stop much before that!” Chandrasekhar said.

“It might get trickier to drive when it gets dark saar,” Shanmugam supplied helpfully. “There doesn’t seem to be any street lights here,” he said, putting the car through another pothole.

“None of you have a sense of adventure!” Aakash complained, rubbing his head where it hit the roof.

“Oh sweetie, we are with you, aren’t we?” Divya said and patted his arm that was on her seat back.

“I was in the Army!” Chandrasekhar said with wounded pride. “I’ve seen wars! I have plenty of sense of adventure! I just need to pass urine.”

“I think we should just stop and allow him to do his business,” Ramesh said. “Shanmugam, stop the car,” he ordered.

Shanmugam maneuvered the car to a side and all of them got out.

“Be careful appa! Watch out for the snakes!” Divya called out as Chandrasekhar made his way into the woods. Shanmugam also disappeared.

The trio walked over to the slope side and looked at the lake which was visible through the trees. It was quite scenic.

Aakash brought out his camera and took a few pictures. “Be sure you don’t catch thatha peeing in the background,” Ramesh laughed as Aakash made him and Divya pose for a few pictures.

“I don’t know whether you are teasing the kid or my dad,” Divya muttered.

“Hey look, someone is walking our way,” Aakash said viewing through his camera.

They turned and there was indeed an old man coming towards them. He was shirtless, thin and wizened. His was wearing a once-white dhoti and had his white thundu wrapped around his head. He had a long dirty cloth bag hung from his thin shoulder.

As he neared them, he pointed a finger at them and said: “One misstep and it is death!” in Tamil.

The three moved away from the edge of the road involuntarily.

Ramesh cleared his throat and asked: “Do you know where Loch View resort is?”

The old man cackled. “Death! Death! Evil death!” he chanted.

Chandrasekhar returned by this time. “He looks mad. Why are you talking to him?” he asked the three.

“Go beyond Sadayandi’s abode and he will abandon you,” the old man said, in what sounded like some sort of an old Tamil poem. By this time, Shanmugam also returned.

“Hey wait! It says Sadayandi temple is the landmark!” Aakash said excitedly and brought out his much abused map. “It says the resort is just 10 minutes past Sadayandi temple!”

Shanmugam turned to the old man: “Ei perisu! Is Sadayandi temple nearby?” he asked.

“Don’t pass Sadayandi’s abode after dark! You will die coughing up blood!” the old man continued his strange poem.

“Old man, keep quiet!” Shanmugam reprimanded him sharply. “Saar, let’s get going. This man seems completely mad.”

The family rushed to the car.

“Go go! Bhuvaneshwari is looking for you! Follow her at your own peril!” the old man guffawed.

* * *

“What a weird old man!” Divya shuddered.

“Totally insane,” Chandrasekhar agreed.

“Who is Bhuvaneshwari? What was he talking about?” Aakash mused.

“Forget whatever he said,” Ramesh responded. “He must be a schizophrenic and completely delusional.”

“Look, I think it is the Sadayandi temple!” Divya pointed to the right of the car. There was a shrine some way up the hill, with a set of steep and rough steps leading up to it. It seemed overgrown with flags.

“Which means the resort is 10 minutes away.” Aakash said jubilantly. It was.

The resort was built on a vast plot overlooking the valley and the lake. It was a beautiful Chettinadu-style bungalow set at the end of a very pretty long drive way. They stopped the car at what looked like the back porch. A bell boy came running out, followed by a sprightly white man, who looked to be in his 50s.

“Hello, I am Stephen,” he said in an unmistakable British accent. “Welcome to Loch View resort. Hope you didn’t have too much trouble getting here,” he said and shook their hands.

“No problem except for a hairy warning about Bhuvaneshwari from a strange old man,” Ramesh said with a smile.

“Oh,” Stephen laughed. It appeared a little forced to Divya. “You must’ve met Periyakaruppan then,” Stephen laughed. “He is cuckoo. But let me not keep you here. This way please,” he led them into the bungalow.

It seemed to have been remodeled from the inside, as they walked into a largish reception area, very tastefully decorated in various shades of earth colors. Antique pieces like a grandfather clock and show cases were everywhere. He went behind an antique table and motioned them to the chairs in front of it.

Stephen looked them up on his computer and did the formalities. He then picked up a couple of keys and got up. “Come, let me show your rooms,” he said and led them into the building.

He showed them the dining area, which had been converted from a large open courtyard which was inevitable part of houses in the South. It now had a translucent fiber glass roof.

He then led them up a beautiful old flight of stairs made of teak wood. As they were climbing up, a woman burst into the dining area. Burst was the best way to describe her entrance because she reverberated with energy, fitness, and all things outdoors. She was wearing cargo pants and a sleeveless t-shirt and was lugging some serious photography equipment. Her blond hair was pulled back in a severe pony tail. She must be in her late 30s/early 40s.

She looked up at them. “Oh hello, new guests!” she said in an American accent.

Stephen waved at her. “Hello Stella. Did you have a good day out?” he asked.

“Great! Caught quite a few birds,” she said, motioning to her camera. “Now I am very hungry!”

“Good, dinner would be served in 20 minutes,” Stephen said. “See you.”

“Stella is a wild life photographer and a friend,” Stephen explained as they walked up. Their rooms were spacious, beautifully done up, and overlooked the lake.

Stephen handed over the keys to them and said, “I’ll see you at dinner,” and left.

“Are you happy now?” Divya asked her son.

“Oh you must give him time to figure out how eco this eco-resort it. Our son has high standards,” Ramesh said as he supervised the bellboy depositing the luggage.

“Stop teasing him. Going green is not a bad thing,” Divya retorted.

“It’s ok ma, I’m used to his teasing. And I like this place. I’ll explore it tomorrow,” Aakash said.

Other than Stella and them, the only other guests at dinner were a couple from Chennai.

“I’m a film maker,” the man introduced himself. “Well, mostly ad films now, but I am working on a feature project,” he shrugged. He was quite good looking. “I am Bala and this is my girlfriend Gowri,” he introduced.

Gowri looked exotic with dusky skin, kohl rimmed eyes, a collection of body piercings including one on her lower lip, and a tattoo of a butterfly on her bare arm. She gave them a friendly smile.

“This is literally the back of beyond, isn’t it?” She said. “I’m glad we are here. At least I get Bala all to myself.” She threw him an intense look.

“I’m glad you are here too,” Ramesh said and was kicked by Divya under the table.

“This is a good place. Beautiful forests all around,” Stella said from across the table.

Stephen introduced his wife Mary. She was sweet and plump. “She is in charge of the kitchen and I, of the bar,” Stephen said.

Dinner was simple South Indian fare but was delicious and definitely healthy. “Most of it is grown here,” Mary said.

As the evening wore on, Ramesh asked Stephen: “So how come you are here?”

Stephen took a sip of whiskey. “Providence,” he said. “Mary and I have been Indophiles for many years. We love the Kambam valley and have done a lot of trekking around here and in Kerala across the hills.” Ramesh stole a glance at Mary, who didn’t somehow seem like a trekker.

Stephen continued: “We discovered the lake by chance a couple of years ago. We instantly fell in love with it. Then somebody told us about this old bungalow. You should’ve seen this place then! We had been thinking about starting an eco-farm for some time and this seemed to be the perfect place for it. Scenic, fertile, and with a readymade property!” he smiled. “So we did a lot of wheeling dealing, got this place and spent a lot of time renovating it. Some friends who visited a year back suggested making this a resort. Which has been working well for us,” he exchanged a warm look with Mary, who nodded her head in agreement.

“Who is Bhuvaneshwari?” Divya asked. An awkward silence ensued.

“Really Divya…” Ramesh said chidingly. He was embarrassed.

“They met Periyakaruppan on the way,” Stephen explained to Mary. She nodded, her face expressionless.

“We really don’t know,” Stephen turned to Ramesh and shrugged. “That old man has been a menace—he’s been to our property too, warning us about this and that. I have given strict instructions to the staff not to let him in.”

After dinner, the guests walked out to the verandah over looking the garden and the valley beyond. Lights that looked like lanterns hung from a couple of posts, throwing feeble light into the inky night that lay beyond.

They sat around on the cane chairs dispersed on the verandah. Bala sat on the steps and Gowri sat in front of him, leaning back on his legs.

“I find this place very spooky,” Gowri said.

“Ever since you heard the ghost story,” Bala laughed.

“What?” Divya asked in shock.

Gowri looked at her. “Apparently, this bungalow once belonged to a zamindar who died a horrible death here,” she said. “They say he was killed by the ghost of one of the women he…” she stopped, throwing a guilty look at Aakash.

Bala lit a cigarette and chuckled. “I think somebody stole a script from a movie.”

Stella laughed out loudly. “I don’t understand Tamil very well, but I seem to pick up some hints of more recent deaths hereabouts,” she said.

“Gosh! Really?” Gowri asked snuggling closer to Bala, her eyes wide with fear.

Stella shrugged. “As I said, I don’t understand Tamil too well. I might be completely wrong.”

“I’m sure you are,” Ramesh said lightly and threw an arm around Divya who had caught hold of his arm. Chandrasekhar patted Aakash’s arm.

Bala laughed again. "I also heard somewhere that our hosts past is a little smoky," he said.

"Who told you?" Gowri asked him in surprise.

Ramesh narrowed his eyes. "You are just trying to spook us," he accuse Bala.

Bala looked sheepish. "Well, someone back in Chennai told me that Stephen and Mary had gotten into some trouble with the law sometime," he said. "I did my research," he told Gowri by way of explanation.

All eyes turned to Stella in silent question. She shrugged, her face inscrutable.

Silence fell on the group. They all sat there, enjoying the January nip in the air, smell of jasmine flowers from the arbor just off the verandah, flash of a fire fly or two, symphony of crickets, and the secretive rustling of the dark trees.

At length Bala said: “Despite all the stories, this place is fantastic!”

* * *

Divya woke up with a start. She lay in her bed for a minute or two, disoriented by the darkness and feeling of strangeness. Then slowly she realized where she was. What had woken her up? Why was it so dark?

She looked around and slowly realized that the power was gone. She waited until her eyes got used to the darkness. She picked up Ramesh’s sleeping form near her. She lay there for some time, hoping that the power would come back.

When it didn’t, she got up and went to the window. She couldn’t make out much, as the moon was weak overhead. She opened one window wider. Cold night air kissed her face. It was chillier up here on the hill when compared to her father’s house in Madurai, but nowhere near as cold as it got at this time of the year at Bangalore.

A sudden strong breeze blew over the top of the trees on the hillside, making strange noises. She withdrew from the window and closed it. She was startled by a noise that sounded like a pebble hitting the window. She stood still. There it was again—a little clunk, barely discernible.

She felt a stab of fear. She took a step backwards. Her mind involuntarily raced through some prayer chants. She thought about waking Ramesh up. But as suddenly as it started, the breeze died down. The trees became still again. There was no more noise.

Divya gave herself a mental shake. She shouldn’t have sat up listening to those horror stories. What she heard was probably some wood creaking in the building. She went back to bed and snuggled close to Ramesh. She put an arm over him and held him tightly. He would push her away at some point at night, but right now, she felt safe in his warmth and solidity. She went back to sleep like that.

* * *

Aakash was woken up by his granddad moving about the room nosily. He opened one eye to see his granddad dressed for a walk, replete with a muffler and a monkey cap.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“About to be six,” Chandrasekhar replied and sat down to wear his shoes.

“You are going for a walk now?” Aakash asked in surprise.

“It is the best time to walk!” Chandrasekhar said briskly, struggling with his shoes.

Aakash scoffed. “Why don’t you come with me and see how beautiful the world is at this time of the day?” Chandrasekhar asked.

“No way!” Aakash started and then changed his mind, remembering where they were. “Ok,” he said and jumped out of bed. “Just a minute,” he said and rushed into the bathroom.

They were out in another 10 minutes and were fully rewarded for their industriousness with raucous bird song and a slightly misty dawn outside. The lake looked ethereal down in the valley.

They ran into Stella almost immediately. “Oh you are up and early!” she commented. She was dressed the same way she was the last evening. The inevitable camera was strung around her neck. She looked like she went to bed with it.

“I was in the Army. Old disciplines die hard,” Chandrasekhar was all old world charm.

“How come you are up so early?” Aakash asked her as they walked across the resort’s yard to a small iron gate.

“Best time to capture birds,” Stella replied and opened the slightly rusty gate. A small dirt path snaked its way down the hill. She looked at them both. “It’s a 15 minute walk to the lake from here. Coming?”

They shrugged and followed her down the path, which rolled gently towards the lake. The vegetation became thinner, ending in grassy plains. Stella stopped every now and then to take some pictures and rattled off the names of birds to Aakash. Chandrasekhar kept up a slow and steady pace.

The lake was beautiful with a light rolling mist on its surface. The hills reflected on its shimmering surface.

They soon realized they were not alone. A woman was standing at the edge of water. Her saree was getting wet at the bottom, but she seemed oblivious to it. She stood motionless. She didn’t seem to have heard them.

“Hello!” Stella called out as they neared her. She turned a startled face at them. She was strikingly pretty in an earthy way—dark skinned, big eyed, and innocent. She might’ve been well a model for one of those temple sculptures. She also looked to be in deep grief.

The trio was taken aback by her sorrow. “Are you ok?” Stella asked in Tamil, surprising the other two.

The woman looked at all of them mutely, her expression not unlike that of a frightened deer. Stella took a step towards her. “Look—“

The woman took a few frightened steps away from her. Then she turned and ran away from them, her saree billowing in the air, into the trees.

“Wait, they are Karuvelam trees—they are thorny!” Stella called out and ran after her. The other two followed her, with Aakash running and Chandrasekhar walking.

It was indeed thorny woods, with the Karuvelam trees growing thickly into each other and interspersed with palm trees. Birds scattered overhead, startled by the commotion. Long ominous thorns on dead and live branches snagged everything. Beyond a point, it was difficult to proceed.

There was no sign of the woman.

Stella ducked out of the woods, looking at a deep scratch the thorn had made on her arm. “Where did she go?” she asked in amazement.

* * *

“You really want to do this?” Gowri asked Bala. It was 10 in the morning and they were both standing at the bottom of the steep steps that led to Sadayandi temple.

“Come on, we’ll just have a look around and come back,” he said.

Gowri looked up undecidedly. “There doesn’t seem to be any one around,” she observed.

“Precisely—it must be a temple of an old village deity. Let’s just go and check it out,” he coaxed her.

Gowri sighed and started up the steps. They were hewn out of the hillside, bolstered here and there with a boulder or a log. It was a short but tough climb. They came to the top clearing where the temple stood.

It was not much of a temple--just a little brick shelter overhanging an amorphous rock installation, coated with vermillion. Orange flags fluttered everywhere. It stood under an enormous banyan tree with a large hole in its trunk, large enough to be a small cave.

They stood looking around. They must be very close to the top of the hill, as they had a great view of the valley and surrounding hills. Little monkeys chattered from the tree branches.

“What a strange temple!” Bala observed.

“Let’s go back,” Gowri urged him.

Before Bala could respond, there was a noise. They turned and were considerably shaken to observe a man emerging out of the hole in the tree. He seemed as surprised as them, as he stopped at the threshold and stared at them.

He looked like a village priest, with big knotted hair, broad stripes of holy ash on his forehead, and beads around his neck. He was shirtless and wore a dhoti. He was carrying a copper plate on which there was an assortment of prayer things and a dirty old cloth shoulder bag.

The priest was the first to recover. “Are you from the city?” he asked them.

Bala found his voice with difficulty. “Yes, we are from Chennai,” he replied.

“I thought so. You look like a film actor,” the priest smiled broadly.

Bala laughed. “No no. I am not. But I work in films though,” he said. The priest was instantly impressed.

“Oh really. Here, take some prasad,” he held out some flowers and holy ash. Bala took it respectfully and nudged Gowri to do so.

“Can you tell us about this temple?” Bala asked.

“Oh!” the priest seemed happy with this question. “Sadayandi Sami lived in these parts a thousand years ago. He was a powerful sidha and could perform many miracles. He could do transmigration and telekinesis. He spent most of his days in this tree hole. People flocked to this hill with all sorts of problems and he solved all of them. They built this temple when he attained Samadhi,” the priest said and looked around him. “Now nobody remembers—my family has been coming and doing puja here for generations, so I come. Now you have come.” He looked at the two of them with a smile.

Bala looked around him once more.

“You have come to the place run by the white dorai?” the priest surmised. Bala and Gowri nodded.

“When are you leaving?” the priest asked.

“In a couple of days’ time,” Bala replied.

“Oh, I see,” the priest said. He then rummaged in the cloth bag he was carrying and brought out a couple of charms strung in black thread. “Here, take this dayathu. It will protect you.”

Bala stepped away from him. “No! No thanks!” he said.

The priest looked at him. “Take it. It will cost you only ten rupees. It will protect you from evil and black force.”

Gowri gripped Bala’s hand tightly. “No. We don’t need it. Thanks!” Bala said firmly.

The priest sighed and put the charms back into his bag. “You city people don’t believe in such things, do you? The other couple refused too,” he said.

“Which other couple?” Bala asked.

The priest looked up sharply. “Nothing. I was just saying…” he said. “Pray to Sadayandi Sami. He will protect you. Have a safe trip back home,” he added and with a nod, went down the stairs.

“Bala, I don’t like this place at all!” Gowri said, her voice laden with fear.

“Don’t be silly Gowri. We are educated people. We need to be rational,” Bala gently chided her.

Gowri hugged Bala’s arm. “I’m scared!” she said.

* * *

In the meanwhile, Ramesh and Divya discovered that the resort had extensive farm lands, including a small patch of paddy field on a little table-like plot on the hill side. Several women were working in the field today. An old woman was sitting under the shade of a tree minding the children, a few of whom were sleeping in makeshift cradles made of sarees hung from the tree.

Vaanga,” said the old woman warmly when she saw the two of them. “Please sit,” she motioned to a wooden bench at the base of the tree. It looked like guests of Loch View liked to sit there often and enjoy the view.

“Are you from Chennai?” the old woman asked. She used the old fashioned name of “Pattanam” for it.

“No we are from Bangalore,” Divya answered.

“Oh I see,” the woman nodded her head sagely as if she knew everything about Bangalore. “People come here from oversees,” she informed them.

“Yes we noticed,” Divya responded.

“This dorai and amma are nice people. They have built all this in two years’ time!” the old woman continued, obviously warming up for some gossip.

“Did you come up here much before that?” Ramesh asked her.

The old lady shook her head. “We were afraid to come up this hill. They used to be all sorts of stories,” she said.

“What kind?” Ramesh goaded her.

“You know, the old jamin?” the old woman lowered her voice. Divya and Ramesh leaned forward involuntarily. “Not a good man. No woman was safe around him,” she said. “He ruined many girls. Used to bring them here by force. He was a jamindar, so nobody could do anything to him. But then his eyes fell on Bommi, the wife of a man who worked for him. The jamin put pressure on the man—that coward forced his wife to come with the jamin here. Bommi was a young girl from a good family. She was appalled at what happened to her. She ran up that rock,” the old woman pointed to a steep rock outcrop at a distance. “And flung herself down. But before that, she said she will take revenge on all men. She’s been roaming this hill ever since. The jamin died coughing up blood not too long after in this bungalow. Almost every year, some man dies hereabouts.”

Ramesh laughed.

The old woman looked offended. "You laugh Ayya. But it is true. Why, only last year a nice young couple came here. The husband fell off that rock," she said.

Ramesh and Divya turned shocked eyes to the rock.

One of the babies in the cradle became restive and let out a wail. The young women working straightened. "Ey Rasathi, it's yours!" the old woman called out. The mother made her way to the cradle.

Ramesh and Divya watched her pick the baby up and rock it, crooning. As the baby calmed down, the woman looked at them and gave a shy, friendly smile. Only Ramesh could manage a weak smile in return.

The woman regarded them for a minute and turned to the old woman and said fiercely, "Ey kizhavi, have you been running off your mouth again? How many times have dorai warned you! You are such a headache!"

* * *

“So could this Bommi be the Bhuvaneshwari that the mad old man was talking about?” Bala asked at the lunch table.

“A plausible hypothesis—provided we take the old man seriously,” Ramesh said lightly.

"And this priest we met at Sadayandi temple talked about some other couple in a rather scary way," Gowri said, her face troubled.

Ramesh and Divya exchanged looks. Bala caught it. "You guys heard something too?" he asked.

"Met an old lady at the field who told us about a man falling off the hill last year," Ramesh said reluctantly.

Bala turned to Stella. "You should at least know this," he told her.

Stella sighed. "I was not here last year--I was in Maharashtra," she replied.

“I don’t know, but I am quite creeped out,” Divya said.

“Ugh me too!” Gowri said and shuddered again. Every gesture she made was languorous and seductive.

“I think we should talk of pleasanter things,” Chandrasekhar remarked in mild admonition.

A silence fell on the group.

“I am a little hassled about the woman we met this morning. She literally disappeared into thin air!” Stella said.

“We lost her in the Karuvelam woods,” Chandrasekhar corrected her.

“But where could she have gone thatha? We looked for her everywhere,” Aakash protested, taking a gothic pleasure in it all.

“She’s from around here—she must know this place better than us,” Chandrasekhar dismissed it.

“She looked so sad!” Stella said in a wondering manner.

“She looked so beautiful,” Aakash said in an equally wondering manner.

“Talking of beautiful, how long are you guys going to be here, Gowri?” Ramesh asked and was kicked under the table by Divya again.

“Couple of more days,” Gowri replied.

“Oh good!” Ramesh said and gave Divya a warning look.

“You know, I would like to explore this place more—there is a story here,” Bala said, his brow furrowed in artistic abstraction.

“Good luck to you on that—I am going to enjoy a nice afternoon nap!” Ramesh said.

“I concur,” Chandrasekhar said.

“I am venturing into the forest this afternoon with Singaram, the resident guide,” Stella said.

Later, as she was leaving, Bala caught up with her. “Hey Stella, can I ask you something?”

Stella raised her eyebrow but said, “Shoot!”

“The recent deaths you heard about—do you know whether it involves a young couple from here?”

Stella frowned. “You mean at the resort?” she asked. Bala nodded.

Stella shook her head. “As I said, I don’t know. I shouldn’t have brought that up—half understood rumor is worse than mere rumor,” she said and hefted her camera equipment on to her shoulder. “You really shouldn’t be worrying about it Bala. This is a very beautiful spot. Enjoy it!”

“I will,” Bala said thoughtfully and waved at her.

* * *

Aakash stood at the verandah undecidedly. He didn’t know what to do. Everybody was asleep. Thatha was making such a ruckus with his snoring that it was impossible to stay in the room.

“Hey champ, couldn’t sleep?”

He turned around to see Bala coming out of the bungalow. “Yes,” he smiled.

“Come along then—let’s do a reccy of this resort,” Bala said and walked down the steps.

They walked a bit in companionable silence. “Do you believe in all the stories?” Aakash asked eventually.

Bala gave him a sidelong glance. “I think there is a rational explanation to everything,” he said. “Hey what do we have here?” he exclaimed.

They had come a little distance away from the bungalow and were at the threshold of a fenced enclosure. They could see chickens, guinea fowls, a couple of cows and a black Labrador inside. They also saw Mary talking to a man.

“Hello!” Bala called out.

Mary turned. When she saw them, she smiled and waved them in. The Labrador came bounding at them, barking. “Misty come here!” Mary commanded. When the lab bounded back to her, she petted it crooning “Good dog.”

She smiled at the two of them. “So you stumbled into our animal farm. Come here Aakash—would you like to see our brand new calf?” she invited.

Aakash stepped forward tentatively towards the barn, followed by Bala. “See, this is Mani. He is just three weeks old. Come on, come and pet him,” Mary invited, patting a small beautiful calf.

Bala looked around. The farm smelled seriously of animals and birds. Tiny fluff balls of chicken wandered with their mother hen. The rooster was fighting with a contender. Guinea fowls strutted around. Misty ran around, excited beyond words.

He noticed the high fence around the enclosure. “Why so much fence?” he asked curiously.

“Well, there is forest around us—sometimes, wild animals come in,” Mary replied.

“You mean like tigers and leopards?” Aakash asked, eyes widening.

Mary smiled at him. “No, more like jackals and wild dogs,” she replied. “But don’t worry, the fence is electrical. We switch it on at night,” she said and straightened. “I am done here. Are you ready to go back?”

Bala and Aakash nodded and followed her out of the enclosure.

“The fence—what do you do if there is a power cut?” Aakash asked, his mind obviously still on the electric fence.

“We have a small generator,” Mary replied and exchanged smiling glances with Bala.

“Do you miss home?” Bala asked.

Mary smiled. “This is home,” she replied.

“Don’t you get scared up here?” Aakash asked.

Mary chuckled. “No, not really.”

“Even with the stories of Bommi going around?” Bala asked lightly.

Mary’s pursed her lips impatiently. “They are just baseless stories. We’ve been quite happy and safe here. We have even convinced the villagers who don’t mind coming up here for work nowadays,” she said.

“And your guests?” Bala asked.

Mary gave him a sharp glance. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Have they been safe and happy?” he asked, holding her gaze.

“Are you trying to insinuate something?” Mary asked, coloring a little.

Bala held up his hands. “I was just asking,” he said.

“Well, I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk such nonsense with other guests,” Mary said sharply. “The villagers with their cock-and-bull stories are painful enough!”

“I’m sorry,” Bala said, but looked far from it.

* * *

Bala was ready to go for a walk around the lake by 4:00 p.m.. Gowri demurred. “Had enough of scampering up hills for the day,” she said.

Luckily, they met Ramesh and his family for tea at the dining room and all the men of the family were up for a walk. Stella had not returned from her excursion.

“Don’t tire yourself too much, appa!” Divya warned.

“Pshaw! I walk more than this at home!” Chandrasekhar dismissed her concern.

“Come back soon!” Gowri called after Bala.

He nodded and winked at her. The four men set out down the path towards the lake.

“I find something palpable in the air here, you know,” Bala said. “Some mystery, some menace…”

Ramesh and his father-in-law exchanged glances.

“Perhaps you are taking the stories too seriously,” Ramesh observed.

Bala looked at him in surprise. “But don’t you feel it? Don’t you feel something portent?”

“All I feel is thirsty. Hope Stephen has more of that whiskey he served us yesterday. Excellent stuff!” Chandrasekhar observed drily.

“Do you think we will see that woman again now, thatha?” Aakash asked.

“I don’t know about the woman, but the mad old man is there,” Ramesh said. Indeed, the old man was sitting under a tree near the lake shore, singing. He turned and grinned at them.

“Still here?” he asked. “Very good! Very good!”

The group nodded at him but continued their walk.

“What do you expect to find here?” the old man called after them.

Bala stopped and turned. “What do you think?” he asked the old man.

“Come on Bala, don’t engage with him!” Ramesh urged.

The old man scratched his head. “You’ve come so far from home chasing old stories,” he said.

“I feel more like the story is chasing us,” Bala replied.

The old man laughed suddenly. “Fool!” he said. “Fool!”

“Let’s go!” Ramesh coaxed.

“Go go!” the old man waved them away. “Go back!”

Ramesh literally pulled Bala away. They walked around the perimeter of the lake for some time. They spotted several birds, a few of which Aakash could identify from what Stella had told him that morning. They decided to get back as gathering rain clouds darkened the dusk. The old man was not there when they came back near the tree.

Half way up the path to the resort, they found the woman. She was lying on the ground, seemingly unconscious. Like an uprooted sapling.

“Do you think she is dead?” Aakash asked.

Bala stepped close to her and called out to her but she didn’t move. He crouched beside her. He was not able to find out whether she was breathing. He put out a hand to shake her. She moaned feebly but didn’t open her eyes.

Chandrasekhar turned to Aakash. “Go get some help from the resort. And bring back some water,” he said.

Aakash nodded and flew up the hill.

Bala shook her again. “Please open your eyes,” he said. She opened her eyes with great difficulty briefly, but closed it again in exhaustion.

Aakash came back with a few farm workers. One of the ladies crouched near the woman and sprinkled some water on her face. “Please get up thayee,” she said. When the woman’s eyes fluttered open, she helped her to sit up. “Inda, drink some water,” she held the water to her mouth. The woman drank some and seemed to revive a little.

“I think she is starving,” the farm hand said.

“Let’s take her back to the resort,” Bala suggested. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman.

There was a general consensus and the woman was half carried up the hill. They sat her down in the verandah, where Mary, Divya and Gowri were waiting. Mary uttered a faint exclamation when she saw the woman, but nobody noticed it.

Somebody found a bottle of Fanta and made the woman drink it. She considerably brightened after the ministrations.

“What is your name?” Divya asked her. The woman looked at her in confusion, but didn’t respond.

“She looks to be in some kind of shock,” Chandrasekhar observed.

“What now?” Ramesh asked.

“Where is Stephen?” Bala asked.

“He apparently drove down to Dindukkal on some business right after lunch. Will be back soon,” Gowri informed.

Just on cue, Stephen’s Bolero turned into the gate. “What happened?” Stephen asked with a frown as he got out.

“We found a destitute woman,” Ramesh responded.

“She seems to be dehydrated and starving,” Bala added.

Stephen looked at the woman and his face changed. He looked up at Mary. “She must be from the village—I’ll send her with someone there,” he said.

“Nobody from the village here recognizes her,” Ramesh pointed out.

“So we will take her to a police station. Perhaps to Dindukkal,” Stephen said.

“At this time of the day?” Bala asked.

“I suggest you take her there in the morning,” Chandrasekhar said. “Not a good place to take a woman at this time of the day.”

“Maybe she would be able to tell us about herself in the morning,” Divya said.

“Steve, no!” Mary said with a touch of hysteria in her voice.

“Look Stephen, it’s just a matter of one night. It’s too late to take her anywhere. Plus it looks like it’s going to rain,” Bala said. It was indeed looking as if it was going to rain, with streaks of lightning snaking in the horizon.

“She can stay with us in the servant’s quarters,” one of the farm hands suggested.

Stephen looked undecided and disturbed. He seemed to weigh the options and then said heavily, “Alright. Take her there.”

Gowri, who was facing the entrance suddenly exclaimed: “Stella!”

* * *

All heads turned to the drive way, where Stella was hobbling in, supported by the guide she had taken with her. As she came closer, they saw that she was badly injured.

“Stella! What happened?” a few of them rushed to her.

“It’s ok guys—not as bad as it looks,” Stella replied with a grimace. They helped her on to the verandah.

“Is anything broken? Do you need a doctor?” Mary asked anxiously.

Stella grimaced as she lowered herself on one of the chairs. “No, at least I don’t think so. Just feels like a lot of cuts and bruises,” she said.

“Steve, we should take her to a Doctor,” Mary said.

“Relax guys, I think I would clean up nice after a shower. And perhaps some aspirin,” Stella said, and carefully deposited her camera equipment on the floor.

Stephen turned to the guide. “What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know ayya—I was walking ahead and she was following me. Suddenly I hear grunts and I turn, there she was, on the ground!” the man said in an unsteady voice.

Stella grinned. “I didn’t see what hit me. I was busy photographing when something hit me with a lot of force and grounded me. It was over before I could get my bearings. Maybe a small, fast animal,” Stella said.

“Where was this?” Mary asked sharply.

“Pretty close to this place, can you believe it?” Stella said, sipping on the water someone had thoughtfully provided her. “We were in the jungle all afternoon and we saw nothing but monkeys and some reptiles. And while we were coming back, this happens,” she said. While she was trying to be nonchalant, it was clear that she was quite shaken by the experience.

As she lowered the bottle, her gaze fell on the mystery woman, who was watching Stella with an unblinking stare. “Fuck!” Stella said involuntarily.

Ramesh grinned. “As you can see, we’ve been having a bit of a drama ourselves,” he said.

“We found her on our way back from the lake,” Bala said.

“I wish she wouldn’t stare at me like that,” Stella said ruefully. “Hello, how are you?” she asked the woman in Tamil.

The woman didn’t respond.

Stella looked around with a raised eyebrow.

“She seems to be in some state of shock,” Divya explained.

“I think she needs some food and rest. I have a feeling she would clean up nice after a shower too,” Bala grinned at Stella.

Perhaps only Ramesh noticed the flicker of pain on Gowri’s face.

Stella laughed. “I’m sure,” she said and got up with a grunt. “Well, it’s time for my shower.”

“I’ll bring the first aid kit around,” Mary said.

“I have some analgesics,” Divya added.

“Thanks guys,” Stella said and picked up her equipment. “Thank you Singaram,” she told her guide and went inside, followed by Mary and Divya.

“Uma, take this woman to your quarters,” Stephen ordered and turned back into the bungalow.

Bala, Ramesh, Chandrasekhar, and Aakash stood watching the farm workers take the woman away.

“Beautiful stranger,” Bala murmured. “This holiday is turning out to be quite interesting.”

“I wonder why Mary was so upset,” Ramesh said.

Bala looked at him. “Do you think there is something they are not telling us?” he asked.

“I think there is a lot they are not telling us, probably because it is none of our business,” Chandrasekhar said. “And we’d better go in—it’s started raining,” he said, wiping a rain drop from his face.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll check on our Anamika and come,” Bala said.

* * *

Aakash walked into the common room. It was empty. Dinner was still 45 minutes away.

He felt jittery. All the events of the day confused him and scared him. He had fought an urge to hide in his mother’s arms and had come down. To be brave and alone.

He picked up the remote and switched on the TV. The reception was grainy. Must be the rain.

He looked through the magazines that were lying around—none that interested him. He walked up to the small book shelf that was near the door. They all seemed to be action thrillers or romances. He liked comics better.

He heard it when he was browsing through the books. An argument. From the office. He put his head out of the room. The office door was shut, but it was filtering voices from inside.

Definitely Mary and Stephen. Aakash leaned a little closer.

“I can’t call the hospital now. I’ll call them tomorrow,” Stephen was saying.

“You said you had taken care of it! You said we had nothing to worry!” Mary exclaimed.

“I had! You know I had!” Stephen responded.

There was a muffled exclamation. “All this hard work—all the sweat and tears! All for nothing!” Mary wailed.

“It’s just for one night Mary. We’ll have this all under control tomorrow morning,” Stephen said in a soothing voice.

“If we survive the night,” Mary said. It sounded as if she was crying.

“Darling, you are over reacting! We can handle this. Trust me,” Stephen said.

“We should’ve listened to everybody. We shouldn’t have meddled with things,” Mary continued.

“Hush! Somebody might hear you. We have a houseful of guests. Let’s be practical,” Stephen said in a quiet voice.

There was some muffled noise. Then Mary’s voice rose again: “I thought we’ve finally found peace Stephen. That we didn’t have to run anymore.”

“We don’t have to. We have this under control. Trust me,” Stephen said again. “Now go, it’s time for dinner.”

The door opened. Aakash ducked back into the common room. Mary passed by. She looked quite upset.

Aakash waited for her to get out of sight. He then crept out the room and made his way upstairs. Forget the macho stance—he wanted his parents right now.

* * *

She was so beautiful. Even in this dusty and unkempt state, her prettiness was undeniable. On her better days, she could be voluptuous, like a film actress. Bala stood at the doorway of the room, looking down at her.

She was sitting on the ground, her back against the wall, and eyes looking out of the window, lost.

“Hasn’t spoken a word ayya,” one of the servants said.

“Did she have something to eat?” he asked.

“A little.”

Bala nodded. “Go on with your work,” he dismissed her who stepped out.

The woman did not stir. Bala sat down a little distance away from her, facing her.

“Who are you Anamika?” he asked softly. “Where have you come from? What makes you so sad?”

The woman did not respond. Bala sat looking at her.

The rain picked up pace outside. There was a sharp clap of thunder which made the woman jump.

“You know, my patti used to tell me that I should say ‘Arjuna! Arjuna!’ when I got scared of thunder,” Bala said with a smile. “Maybe you should try it too.”

A bright flash of lightning followed the thunder. The woman flinched and turned her face. Her eyes met Bala’s and held.

Bala felt as if he was plunging vertically down. He closed his eyes. How could it happen? How could he fall in love like this in an instant?

* * *

Dinner was a muted affair. All noises were drowned by the clatter of rain on the fiber glass roof anyway.

Stella was in her room. Divya carried the information that her injuries were bad indeed and she might need to visit a doctor in the morning.

Bala was looking distracted and picked on his food. Gowri kept giving him troubled glances, but he seemed oblivious of them.

“Oh what a ruckus!” Divya said, looking up at the direction of all the clatter. “It’s beginning to give me a head ache!”

“I think it’s time to go to bed,” Chandrasekhar said and got up from the table. “All this excitement has exhausted me.”

Divya sighed. “Yes, I agree,” she said and got up. “Aakash kanna, what do you want to do?” she looked at her son.

“I am tired too,” Aakash said. He turned to Ramesh. “Appa, do you think we can go back to Madurai tomorrow?” he asked.

Ramesh looked at his son. He then ruffled his hair affectionately. “Of course! Now go to bed. We’ll see whether we can leave right after breakfast,” he said.

“What about you?” Divya asked as the three of them started.

“I think I’ll spend some time downstairs—perhaps read something,” Ramesh said. “Give time for my dinner to settle.”

“Ok, don’t be late,” Divya said, trying to control a yawn. Ramesh watched them go up the stairs.

He turned to see that Bala and Gowri were engaged in a low voiced argument.

“Don’t be ridiculous Bala! It’s pouring outside!” Gowri was pleading with him.

“I won’t dissolve in the rain, Gowri,” Bala retorted. “I’ll just go check on her. I’ll be back in 15 minutes.” He walked out of the dining area. Gowri followed him.

“Please Bala, don’t leave me!” she said.

Bala stopped and turned. He held out an arm. Gowri took it. He pulled her into an embrace. He released her after a few moments and walked out into the rain, without a backward glance.

Ramesh walked out into the verandah and went to stand near Gowri, who was openly crying now. He was not sure whether Gowri noticed him, but she eventually turned a teary face to him: “He’s not going to come back,” she said.

“Nonsense! He will be back in 15 minutes, as he said,” Ramesh said lightly and looked at her. She looked young and vulnerable, with her kohl running. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Come, let’s wait for him.” He led her to the chairs.

She sat down and dashed away her tears with the heel of her palm. “You must be blind if you didn’t notice the way he looked at her,” she said.

“I was looking at you,” Ramesh said quietly. Gowri forgot to cry for a moment and stared at him.

Just then, one of the night staff came half running. He was carrying an umbrella, but still was drenched. He stopped for a moment to look at them and then hurried inside.

Moments later, Stephen emerged, armed with an umbrella, torch and a stick. He was accompanied by three other men, variously armed with sundry weapons. Mary brought up the rear of this group. Then the men left hurriedly. Mary stood there watching them.

“What happened?” Ramesh asked.

She jumped and turned, clearly noticing them for the first time.

“Looks like some wild animal got in and took Mani away,” she said, her face crumpling.

“Mani?” Ramesh asked in incomprehension.

Mary sobbed. “Our little calf. Our tiny adorable calf!” she said.

* * *

She was not at the quarters. The staff there were as surprised as him to discover that she was gone.

“How could you let her go like this?” Bala asked sharply, realizing that his voice had risen not in anger but in panic. Ever since he had seen her, he had been terrified that she will disappear.

“Maybe she went to the toilet,” one of the servants suggested.

“Can you please check?” Bala asked, his heart running like a train. Please Anamika, please don’t be gone!

After a little flurry of activity, they came back empty handed. “No ayya, she is not there.”

Bala ran his hand through his hair.

“She must’ve gone outside. I have to check!” he said and turned. He realized that it was pitch dark outside, with the clouds hiding the moon. “Do you have a torch?”

Ei Kamachi, bring ayya a torch,” a matron like woman ordered. She then turned to him. “Ayya, perhaps we should get the night watchman—it is treacherous walking in these areas at night in the rain. Especially people like you,” she said.

Bala looked back at her wildly. “No! No! There is no time to lose. She might be in danger!” he took the torch from her and stepped out into the rain.

He didn’t know where he was going. The darkness and the pouring rain were disorienting. The torch gave out feeble light that illuminated very little. It was slippery underfoot. He almost fell a couple of times.

“Anamika!” he called out. “Anamika!”

He realized that the warmth on his cheeks were his tears. He couldn’t lose her. Not just when he found her. He thrashed his way forward.

He mut've walked for perhaps 15 minutes when a lightning bolt illuminated the sky briefly. He saw her, standing at a distance, drenched and motionless.

“Bhuvaneshwari!” he called and ran to her.

* * *

Gowri flinched at the lightning. Ramesh took her hand. She held on tightly.

Mary sat on the steps of the verandah, looking out anxiously, impervious to the rain that was drenching her.

“He is not coming back,” Gowri said. A statement. Absolute.

“Don’t be silly,” Ramesh squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Gowri looked at him. Her eyes were dry. “I know he is not coming back,” she said and pointed to her heart. “I know it here.”

Ramesh put an arm around her. She leaned on him and put her head on his shoulder.

The rain continued unabatedly.

* * *

He found her. He found her! Just a few more yards and he would reach her.

Another flash of lightning and he could see she was standing on some rocky outcrop. “Bhuvaneshwari!” he called out. His torch now picked up her form.

She turned. He could see that she was smiling. “Is that you?” she asked.

“Yes! Yes, it’s me,” Bala panted as he walked up the incline to where she was. “Don’t move!” he called out.

“I won’t,” she replied.

He was near her now. He put out a hand and caught her arm. “Why did you run away?” he asked.

“I knew I would meet you,” she replied, reaching out and touching his face.

“You foolish girl! You gave me the fright of my life,” he admonished and put an arm around her waist. Her fingers froze on his face.

“No! No!” she said and stepped back.

“Bhuvana, no!” Bala cried as his feet slipped. And suddenly they were falling, falling. He held on to her tightly as they hit something solid.

* * *

The three of them sat on the verandah, like three statues. For a long time.

Then there was noise of footsteps in the muddy water. Heavy footsteps.

Mary got up.

The men came slowly, weighed down by their burden. They walked silently to the verandah and lowered Stephen on the ground. Mary screamed.

“Stepped on the fence…shock…water…” the halting explanations were submerged by her screams.

“I told you! I told you! She got you! She got us!”


Copyright: Priya Thiagarajan

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

The Recruiters

Retired Bank officer Ramasubramaniam sat at his table near the window overlooking the courtyard of his building complex, rolling the shells in his hand thoughtfully. He looked outside with unseeing eyes, his brows furrowed. The unseasonably warm Sunday afternoon caused sweat to bead on his forehead, but he seemed oblivious to it. His lips moved silently in a chant.

The air hung heavily around him, oppressive. He thought that he could feel a menace in it. He was worried. Not in the familiar, prosaic, petty way that a middle class man with a bank job and two kids worried, but in an inexplicably bigger, deeper way.

He looked back at the shells in his hand and reluctantly arranged them driven by an inner force, for another reading. He came from a family of astrologers, experts who mixed the science with an ancient knowledge. As an educated man and rationalist, Ramasubramaniam had tried to deny his lineage, his unfortunate gift of natural intuition, but its force had been too strong. He usually did his readings for friends and those few who somehow heard of him and came to him. He hated it, but he was very good at it.

However today, he was not doing the reading for anybody. He had merely succumbed to an anxiety that had been eating him up for the past week, keeping him awake at nights. He looked down at the reading and felt a punch of anxiety in his solar plexus. Bad. Very bad portent.

A sudden breeze ruffled the papers on his table. He looked out to see the woman walking by the swimming pool that had its pride of place in the quadrangle. She was of an indefinite age, anywhere between 35 - 50. Her wild hair, her flowing clothes and her jewelry made her look like some exotic bird of paradise. Ramamsubramaniam had encountered her several times around the complex, always feeling a slight unease at her presence, enhanced by the derisive smile she always gave him.

Today, she looked up and met his eyes. Even though Ramasubramaniam’s apartment was on the sixth floor, he thought he could see her eyes flashing. He definitely felt the energy of her glance. And unbelievably, he could sense her smiling at him. She then walked on, her skirt fluttering in the bright sun, her hair ruffled by the breeze that rose from the hot surface of the swimming pool.

Ramasubramaniam wished he knew why he felt that she was behind all the anxiety he felt. The swimming pool glittered blindingly below him.

--------

Navin switched off the television, overcome with a terrible ennui. Gosh it was so warm! He was sweating despite the overhead fan going full speed. Maybe he should switch on the a/c, but then he would have to engage in a pointless conversation about why he did with his wife. He had rather not, so he slumped back on the sofa, picking up a newspaper and fanning himself.

Maybe he should go for a shower, but that also would engender a conversation with Harini. He had decided long ago that discretion was the better part of valor. He could hear her talking on the phone. He was happy as long as it kept her in the other room and not where he was, asking a hundred questions and dispensing half a dozen unsolicited advices.

He sat there, undecided about what to do. Inertia was his besetting sin, along with a mild, gentle personality that thrived on avoiding confrontations. Which is why he had had let his parents make most of his life decisions--what to study, what to wear, who to befriend, who to marry...

Left to his own, he would’ve never married Harini. He knew they were incompatible going into the marriage. They were like chalk and cheese: she of the narrow perspective and dogmatic views; he of the sensitive nature and intellectual bend. She had had laughed at all his choices, coined him useless, and set out to reform him. He had given in and sunk into a deep, secret hatred for her.

Perhaps he could walk out of this farcical marriage. Perhaps build a new life for himself. Perhaps he can start the process now, if only he could force himself to get up from the sofa.

The conversation ended and Harini walked into the living room. “Why are you fanning yourself? You could’ve switched the a/c on. You are so lazy!” she commented and proceeded to close the windows and doors to switch the a/c on.

Navin sat unmoving. She plopped next to him and picked up the TV remote. “What, nothing interesting on TV? When are you going to finish those stupid books you bought last month? I never see you reading them. I don’t know why you buy them!” she commented and switched the TV on.

Navin tried to movie away from her. “I wonder why it is so hot! Summer hasn’t even started!” Harini continued, as she watched the weather report on the news channel. “Mona was telling me that a boy in C Wing had a heat stroke. Can you believe it? Heat stroke in March! Global warming, what can one say?” she said.

Navin felt an irrational prick of anger. ‘You know nothing about global warming! Nothing! So don’t pretend and add it to your repertoire of shallow, little-understood conversational refrains that you pick up to make you look oh-so-with-it!’ he screamed in his head.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Harini asked and turned back to the TV without waiting for an answer. He felt the heat of her body as she leaned back and cozied up to him. He was repulsed. He got up with a start.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Out. For a walk,” he replied, a little wildly.

“Walk? In this heat? It’s close to 40 degrees outside! You are so impractical at times!” she commented, keeping up with the litany of character judgments that she started on the third day of their marriage, three years ago.

“I... I need to pick up a razor,” he said.

“We just bought a pack last week!” she frowned.

“I... I am planning to change the brand. This...this one seems to give me a rash,” he stuttered.

She looked at him but refrained to comment. He quickly made his escape. He pulled a T-shirt on top of his sweat pants, picked up his wallet and got out of the house.

She was right, that hateful woman. It was terribly warm outside. The brightness was blinding and the heat hit him like a physical blow. He pressed on, making his way around the swimming pool, across the quadrangle to the exit of the complex.

He went to the store just outside the gate and bought a razor. Otherwise Ms. Hawk would notice and start another diatribe. He stood there, undecided about what to do next. He saw autos lined up in the shade, their drivers playing cards on the roadside. Maybe he can take an auto and go--where? Visit a friend? Go to the airport? Leave the country?

He noticed the tender coconut stand near the store and bought one. It was such a hot day that even the coconut water was lukewarm. He drank it, paid and turned around and started walking towards his complex. He was trapped. In his own cowardice.

---------

Navin saw the woman just as the lift doors were closing. He held it open and she walked in, all billowing clothes, flowing hair and jangling jewelry. She met his gaze and smiled. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Navin was struck by her eyes. They were large, light brown eyes with yellow flecks in them, and rimmed heavily with kajal. They also had a curious energy to them.

They rode up in silence for a bit. Then the woman turned to him and said, “I sense a strong unhappy aura around you. I would like to help you.”

Navin stared at her.

“Would you like some help?” she asked, a faint amusement crinkling the corners of her eyes.

Navin continued to stare at her. Unexpectedly, she reached out and took his left hand and held his palm between hers. Navin struggled to take back his hand, but soon gave up as he felt some kind of energy spreading up his arm and entire body. He felt light for the first time in many years. He met her gaze in wonder and couldn’t look away.

He was faintly aware that the lift had come to a halt. “This is my floor. Would you like to come to my house?” she asked. Navin nodded mutely. She lightly held his arm and took him down the corridor, in front of a door that held strange insignia. She took out a key that jangled in an elaborate key chain and opened the door.

The first thing Navin noticed was the smell--incense overladen with a chemical flavor, not too strong, but unmistakable. He then noticed that the house looked something like the inside of a buduouir, exotic and filled with strange knick-knack. On one wall, there was a strange map, plotting something that he hardly recognized. And for a woman, she seemed to possess a preponderance of electronic gadgets.

She motioned him to a sofa. He sat down and looked at her. He had seen her about the complex many times, but other than her exotic appearance, hadn’t thought too much about her. Harini had and had carried bits and pieces of gossip that she gathered from her equally jobless friends: how the woman kept to herself, had no visitors, but came and went at all strange hours. About how she frightened the kids once. About how someone had noticed her walking around talking to herself.

“All of it is true, you know,” the woman said and sat near him.

“Sorry?” Navin looked at her uncomprehendingly.

“All the gossip your wife carried about me--all of them are true,” she said.

Navin noticed that she had a deeply seductive way of talking and moving--a little languorous, a little knowing.

She laughed suddenly and put out a hand to touch his cheek. No touch had affected Navin so profoundly as this one ever.

“I... I don’t even know your name,” he stammered.

She fixed him with a look. “Does it matter?” she smiled slowly. “Let us work on that unhappiness first,” she said.

Navin nodded wordlessly. She held out a hand. He diffidently moved his own out and took it. She drew his hand to her chest, closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“What do you want to do most? Run away or kill your wife?” she asked. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “You can choose either or both.”

Navin almost choked. “What...what are you saying?” he blurted out.

She leaned over. “They leave in two days. You can kill her and leave with them,” she said.

-----------

Rajiv removed the headphones and rubbed the back of his neck wearily. His eyes were smarting from staring at the computer screen for a long time. Gosh, it was hot like hell. And that cheapskate husband of his mom wouldn’t fix an a/c in his room.

The house was silent. He thought of opening his door and taking a look. He then decided against it--it was possible that he would see his mother crying her eyes out. Again. He was tired of holding her after she fucked up her life for the nth time.

It was not as if he didn’t love his mother. He did. Despite all her other flaws, she was a terrific mother. But he had suffered her stupidity for far too long.

How many times would she make the same mistake? How did she hone into jerks like this all the time? He was 19 and he could see how bad she was at judging people. She never learnt. She repeated her mistakes and got hurt every time.

Well, the same nature that made his mom sensitive and creative also made her needy and vulnerable. She needed someone to support her. Rajiv grimaced--he was more than capable of supporting her, but she thought he was still a baby. How could she look at his 6 foot and 80 kgs frame and think that was beyond him.

He contemplated going to bed. His digital alarm clock showed close to 11:00 p.m. Maybe he should take a shower and go to bed.

There was a knock on the door. “Raju?” his mom called from the other side.

Rajiv groaned. “Come in,” he called out. It was too hot to have this session!

His mom opened the door and walked in. She wasn’t too tall to begin with--but today she looked small. She walked around his room, her long artistic fingers flitting over surfaces, like dusky butterflies.

“For God’s sake, sit down mom!” Rajiv gritted his teeth.

She looked at him in surprise and sat down on his bed. She played with the edge of her kamiz.

“What did he yell at you today for?” Rajiv asked.

His mom tried to smile, but her mouth quivered. “He had asked me to get something at the bank. I...I messed up,” she said.

Rajiv felt like punching something. She tried very hard at messing up. Really. His friend Savitha told him that this behavior was called passive-aggressive.

“Now what?” he asked her.

“He...he’s in his office,” she said.

An awkward silence prevailed. He knew his mom wanted him to say something, make her feel better, but he had no patience to do that. Fuck, he had so much college work to do with his exams coming up.

“How...how is college?” she asked.

Like she cared! Gosh, she’d stopped caring about anything ages ago! Her easel and paint brushes were gathering dust somewhere in the attic. Now she was an indifferent cook, a terrible housekeeper, and generally totally useless. Trying hard to please that asshole but failing at it miserably.

“Ok,” he answered shortly. He suddenly felt sad and lost like a little boy. Where did his bright, funny, and spontaneous mom of his boyhood go? Who was this dull lifeless woman?

“You want something to eat?” she asked.

Rajiv felt a vein throb in his forehead. “Oh please, stop talking crap to me! Like you cared if I ate or slept or washed!” he hissed.

His mom looked at him with hurt eyes. Strangely that made him see red.

“For fuck’s sake mom, stand up to him! Ask him to take a freaking leap! Do something! Don’t just sit there and whine and look hurt!” he realized that his voice had risen.

His mom looked apprehensively at the door and shushed him. He felt like hitting her. He swore and got up. His mom watched him as he found his shoes and wore them.

“W...where are you going?” she asked.

“For a walk,” he growled and went out.

------

Rajiv had intended to go for a long walk. Far away from all of it. But the heat knocked him off. At fucking 11:00 p.m. at night! Unbelievable!

The courtyard was lit like a Christmas tree but deserted. He walked around the pool and found a cement bench near a flowering bush. Its night blooms scented the air with their fine fragrance. He sat looking at the rippling water.

Again a deep sadness enveloped him. Tears started coursing down his cheeks. He had nobody other than his mom in this world, and now even she was lost. Irretrievably. That asshole husband had robbed him of his mother--the flighty, great fun mother who painted and made things with her hands. Beautiful, colorful paintings and curious fun things. And had turned her into a dithering, good-for-nothing secretary.

He vaguely noticed another person walking in his direction. He bent his head, ashamed of his tears and hoped that whoever it was would pass him by. But the person stopped and stood in front of him. He could see two legs, clad in white pajama and Kolhapuri chappal. He had no choice but to look up.

There was a man of about 30 in front of him, dressed entirely in white. He was of medium height, had already thinning hair and wore glasses, through which two warm, friendly and sympathetic eyes looked at him. Rajiv vaguely remembered seeing him in the complex before.

“Hi, can I sit here?” the young man asked. Rajiv wiped his tears with the heels of his palms and nodded.

The young man sat next to him. “Extraordinarily hot, isn’t it?” he asked pleasantly.

Rajiv didn’t answer. The young man threw him a glance and then held out his hand. “I am Navin,” he said. Rajiv shook his hand after hesitating briefly. The young man’s grasp was firm and curiously energetic. Rajiv muttered his name.

“Good to meet you Rajiv,” Navin said.

Rajiv remained silent.

“I can sense your pain. Can I help?” Navin asked.

Rajiv looked at him in surprise.

Navin touched Rajiv’s arm lightly, near the wrist. Rajiv tried to move but was stunned by a curious energy flowing into him, spreading and soaking up the hurt. He looked at Navin in wonder.

“That asshole husband of your mother is easy to get rid of. Would you like to do it and go away with your mother?” Navin asked in a soft voice.

Rajiv swallowed and stared at Navin, inexorably drawn.

Navin smiled at him pleasantly. “We are leaving in two days. You can come with us,” he said.

--------

Ramasubramaniam was having a curious dream. It was filled with blinding light. It was like standing next to the sun, scorching and burning. There were curious sounds, heavy footsteps, and the inexorable pull of something very powerful and strange. Several people, known and unknown, flitted through like a maniacal montage. He knew at least some of them were dead. They were coming. No escape. He had no powers to resist them. He screamed.

“Wake up! Wake up!” he was being shaken awake.

Ramasubramaniam opened his eyes with an effort. It was his wife. “You are having a night mare! Wake up!” she said, her voice half fearful. “Have some water,” she said, picking up the bottle from the night stand and holding it out to him.

Ramasubramaniam took the water from her like a child and drank thirstily from it. His heart returned to its normal rate. “Ennachunna? You never have bad dreams! What happened?” his wife asked.

Ramasubramaniam looked at her familiar face--the diamonds on her ears and nose flashed sporadically as they caught the lights coursing in from outside. He was relieved to be there, in their bedroom, in the familiar, soothing presence of his wife of 37 years.

“I am scared, Veni,” he said.

“About what?” she said, wiping the sweat off his brow with her saree pallu.

“About all of us. Our safety,” he said.

Veni looked at him thoughtfully. “What is going to happen?” she asked, familiar with her husband’s flashes of intuition.

“Some strange force. Something very powerful...” he muttered. “I don’t know what it is, but it scares me,” he said.

Veni sighed. “Must be the heat. It has been so unseasonably warm! Let me reduce the a/c temperature. Pray to God and go back to sleep,” she said.

----------

Bhargavi stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror for a long time. She had three of the five signs of aging that the puerile ad on TV enumerated--black spots, sagging, and faint crinkles around the eyes. Thank God for her brown, Asian skin that didn’t age as much! She looked down at her naked form. She was in no great shape either. Everything that shouldn’t sag or bulge, did.

Bye bye, youth!

She buried her face in the palms of her hands and swore. At this rate, she was never going to get out of the bathroom, leave alone the house. She tasted the salt of her tears. Damn it! She thought she had done crying! Fucking hell!

She took in a deep breath, looked away from the mirror determinedly, and pulled the towel from the ring. She wrapped herself in it and stepped out into the bedroom.

She picked up her mobile phone to see if there were any missed calls. There were none. And that made her want to weep all over again. She was tempted to fling herself on to the bed and do just that.

The rational side of her brain knew that unraveling like this over a worthless man was fucking insane. But try convincing her hormone ridden, biological clock driven, emotional side!

Had she really thought Gautam was her safe harbor, the home she had been looking for all her life? Had she not known that he was a philandering, two-faced son-of-a-bitch going in? She had known. Oh she had. That was part of his charm. The Casanova complex.

How damning to be defeated by a cliche!

How many lies she had accepted, how many humiliating little escapades in the last two years. Theirs was an open, modern relationship, wasn’t it? Hadn’t she “understood” all the scars in his psyche, the impact of a troubled childhood, and some of the things that he couldn’t help? The lost little boy who needed to be held when he came back, crying crocodile tears after every transgression, begging for her to forgive him and just love him. Tiger fucking Woods of the East!

Bhargavi took a deep breath. She hated this familiar direction her thoughts took nowadays all the time. She needed to get out of it. Break away from it. She had been married to a womanizing dick head. Now no more. End of story. Beginning of a new life. She was a woman. Women were supposed to be strong, weren’t they?

She selected her attire for the day with some care. She had read somewhere that grooming was an important indicator of being integrated with the mainstream of society, a sign that one understood and lived by the common rules and etiquette. The days of going to work in mismatched footwear were over.

She bit her lips as she caught herself contemplating before the mirror again. This is what she hated most of the fiasco. That he had been able to rob her off her self confidence.

When she had had met Gautam, she had been a confident young woman--confident about her worth, her attractiveness, and her place in the world. When he was done with her, she was turned into this quivering mass of self doubts, this pathetic creature who spent too much time in front of the mirror.

She felt a searing, white anger rise in her. How dared he? How dared he take away from her the most important of virtues? How come her entire edifice of self worth had been so fragile that it had come crashing down with a single “fat cow” description?

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She will conquer this. She will regain her glory. Fuck him!

The basement was like a furnace when Bhargavi went down to get her car. She was prespiring by the time she reached her Honda. She slid in to the driver’s seat, wiped the sweat from her brow and switched the a/c on. Even the powerful a/c of the car was not going to be enough for such a hot day. Strange it was so hot in March.

She started the car and came out of the basement. She drove around the building and exited. That’s when she saw him. A teenage boy waving at her for a ride. She normally didn’t offer anybody rides, but there was something about this fresh-faced boy that made her slow down. She stopped in front of him and opened the door lock.

He smiled at her and got in to the passenger seat.

-----------

The beach was deserted. High tide was in. Although there were no lights on the beach, the sky was bright enough to give the feel of an extraordinary full moon. It was still sweltering hot.

There were about a hundred of them. They all stood in a huddle, but they didn’t speak to each other. They were strangely calm, as if in a trance.

The woman was there. Tonight, she was dressed in all white. He hair was piled high on her head. She looked like a high priestess. She stood in front of them, bathed in the mysterious light, eyes closed, focusing on something.

She opened her eyes at length and looked around the group. “Its time,” she said. As if on cue, the sky lit up with a very bright light. The people on the beach squinted when they looked up.

“Step forward, it’s time to go,” the woman said and held her hand out.

------------

It rained the next morning, cooling things down. Its gloom hung specially over the apartment complex as the chilling discoveries were made one after another. A young woman found dead and her husband missing. A middle aged man dead and his wife and step son were absconding.

Based on several leads, police forced open the woman’s apartment. They encountered an empty flat. Nobody had seen when she had moved her things out.

If the police found a trend of dead people and missing family or friends across the city, they didn’t seem to do anything about it.

The incident found traction in the local and regional news channels for a day. As leads petered down to nothing and no arrests were made, everybody moved on to the next sensation.

Four years later, a bright young MBA student did a project on the real estate bubble bursting in the city. He hypothesized that the inversion point occured when a cluster of unsolved murder cases happened curiously on the same day in residential buildings across the city. When he submitted his report to his guide, that worthy professor laughed until there were tears in his eyes on the student’s implication of an alien abduction theory. He advised the student to do some “real” data analysis if he wanted an A.

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