It has been very disconcerting for Rashi to have Nandini enter our life. For the last year or so, our routine had been consistent. Every morning, I would first ensure that Rashi went to college on time and then cook lunch for Anil. After that, I would go to work at my beauty parlour. In the evenings, I would make sure to reach the hospital by the time the doctors came for their rounds to check up on Nandini. By the time I would reach home, Rashi would be back from college, followed soon after by Anil.
After dinner, we’d watch some television together before calling it a day. Interspersed in our everyday life were regular arguments about not bringing Nandini home – reasons for which would never surface in our conversations but were known to each of us. The same argument would have turned nasty in Nandini’s presence, but before things got out of control, I had taken charge of the situation. Luckily, she had been in her room at that time and hadn’t heard anything. I had still wanted to make sure of that and had decided to talk with her. I wanted to gauge how much she knew based on her response to Rashi’s treatment of her.
Before going to Nandini’s room last night, I had gone to the storeroom to open one of the boxes that contained Nandini’s belongings, which I’d got from didi’s home after the accident. Nandini had had most of her important things like her mobile, laptop and identity cards with her when the car had crashed. The police had handed them over to me at the hospital. I had kept all that in the box along with her other personal things.
As I had pulled back the brown tape on the box – the noise screeching through the silence of the store room – and lifted the cardboard flaps, it had felt as if old wounds that I’d attempted to stitch up were reopening. My fingers had drifted along the photo frames kept inside – moments of perfection captured for an eternity that were now clinging to me like unbearable objects. Didi’s face had appeared before me. I had felt guilty looking at her picture because I still hadn’t disclosed everything to Nandini. I had quickly retaped the box and slid it back into its original place. I hadn’t been ready for Nandini’s questions just then. I had kept my thoughts to myself for so long that I was scared about what would happen when they eventually erupted. Even though I have been running away from her questions for a long time, last night Nandini eventually asked the dreaded question.
Are they dead?
I had felt so alone in that moment even though my family was all around me. I had somehow managed to convince her that I would reveal everything to her soon. She agreed but I could sense that she wasn’t really satisfied. She had known that it wasn’t about her, but about me. I just hadn’t been ready . I could hardly sleep last night. Today morning, after making breakfast and packing Anil’s lunchbox, I took my blood pressure tablet and went to sit on the daybed in the porch. I have decided to spend time with Nandini and take her out to make her feel better.
Pursing my lips, I pull out my phone and type out a quick excuse to the head beautician of the parlour. “Good morning.” I look up from my phone to see Nandini smiling down at me, the sun behind her plunging her into a dark silhouette. “Good morning,” I greet her and say, “I hope you slept well.” She nods and says, ‘Much better than the hospital.” I smile and say, “I understand how that feels,” even though I’m fully aware that I have no idea how it must feel to be in her place. God has been entirely unfair to this young girl this past year. And yet, she has a smile on her face. Although I know a lot of pain is hidden behind it, I’m impressed she still has the strength to live another day.
“Uncle’s ready for office?” she asks. I assume she just wants to say something to me, and isn’t really interested in her uncle’s whereabouts. “Yes, come along.” I pull myself up from the daybed and start towards the kitchen, when Rashi’s ringing phone catches my attention. She is in the washroom and must have left her phone on the dining table. Usually, she never lets her phone out of her sight and hates it if anyone comes between them. But the nonstop ringtone forces me to check it.
The person calling finally gives up and sends Rashi a message. It is from a boy named Sahil. Chill. She’s just your sister. The message stays on the display screen for a bit. Curious, I give into temptation. I click on the WhatsApp icon to see the original message Rashi must have sent, which Sahil has replied to.
My sister is now staying with us. I just wish she would run away from this house.
I scroll up but that is the only message concerning Nandini. It makes me furious. I look up and see Nandini staring blankly at me. I’m sure she knows I have seen something that I shouldn’t have. I decide to speak with Rashi openly about it later, but for now I leave the phone exactly where I found it.
Excerpted with permission from Why Should I Trust You?, Sudeep Nagarkar, Westland Books.
