Chapter 10 by Gitanjali Maria | #WriteWithChitra #StoriesConnectUs

Chapter 10

Breathing hard, Manorama looked around the room. There were papers and files strewn all over the oak-tree floor. Chairs were turned upside down and drawers pulled out. Her mind drifted to the family day function that she had attended in this same office a few years ago. The place had been meticulously decorated then, tables  groaning under food and gifts.

She turned to look at the cupboard door. It was shut now. She shuddered at the memory of what she had experienced inside it. Her horror was still fresh, her heart still palpitating.

As the minutes ticked away, the rational part of her brain kicked in, replacing fear with logic and reason. How could Renu be there? Wasn’t she …dead? An accident, that was what it had been reported. It had been over a decade now.

And Ranjit, she had never heard about him after they parted ways. She had blocked him on all communication channels and even shifted cities to just get away from him and her past.

As her mind cleared and breathing  became normal, she suddenly realized that she had not actually seen anyone –not Renu, not Ranjit. She had just heard them. They were only voices and not physical beings. It could well be voices in my head, she tried to argue. But then Vinod, with the salt-and-pepper beard, with whom she had had a conversation, was he also not real?

‘Is everything fine, Manorama? Was somebody in there?’ a voice asked, and she turned to look at the boy. For a moment, she had forgotten her saviour.

‘Why did you come here? Where is your mother?’ Manorama asked, her voice rising in anger, the boy’s strikingly familiar face reminding her of her husband’s infidelity, his clandestine relationship with Mrs. Bakshi, whoever she was.

The boy broke down, terrified sobs escaping his thin, chapped lips. ‘Ma, I don’t know where ma is. I thought I heard her voice when I was in the balcony, when I was shouting for someone, anyone, to help me. I thought I heard her speak to someone on the phone. I thought I heard her take your name, Manorama. But when I went in check’, he started crying now, ‘she was not there. So I ran here, hoping that I might find papa’

What he didn’t tell her was that he was hoping to see her, to find her, ever since she answered his call in the morning, when the whole world seemed to have vanished. And Manorama didn’t tell the boy that she was thankful he had come at the right moment and saved her.

‘Vinod was here, he was there when I came in. We spoke …’ she started.

‘Vinod! Vinod!’ She called out, searching for him below the desks, behind the doors, and in the other rooms. But Vinod was not to be seen.

‘Did you see Vinod?’ She shouted at the boy, shaking him by his shoulder. Had he said something or done anything bad to Vinod?

The boy seemed lost and the only the cawing of crows answered her.

Manorama remembered what Vinod had said to her.

He had told her that it had been 25 years since that night they had gone to bed together; reminded her about the cardinal sins and what they had each been guilty of. Were there other sinners too like her, left behind?

What was the boy’s sin? He was too young. But then a voice reminded her that she was also this age when she had taken Renu to the bell tower.

Still staring at the crow outside, she asked the boy, ‘What is your sin? Your unpardonable fault?’ When there was no answer, she tried a different question, ‘Do you know about the seven sins? ‘

There was still no answer. ‘Vivek?’ she asked again.

‘Manorama,’ he finally said, his voice trembling. ‘I just received a text message.’

‘What! What is it?’ She turned to look at him.

The boy read in a low voice, the phone, unsteady, in his trembling hands.

The acts of mercy.

1. Feed the hungry
2. Refresh the thirsty
3. Clothe the naked
4. Visit the sick
5. Shelter the homeless
6. Visit the imprisoned
7. Bury the dead

‘What is this message? Nonsense! Who sent you this at this time?’

‘Ma. Ma sent me this,’ he replied, his lips quivering.

‘Your mother?’ Manorama asked incredulously. ‘Where is she then?’

‘I don’t know… her phone was on the table at home when I left.’

‘Let’s go to your house and see.’ Manorama wanted to get out of this place with  the strange cupboard. She also wanted to see who this Mrs. Bakshi was.

‘You know the way, right?’ Manorama asked, sitting at the wheel, pulling on her seatbelt, a practice that had now become a habit.

The boy nodded. She and the boy zoomed away in the car. The roads were deserted, the buildings silent, and the streets empty.

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Read –
Chapter 1 by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
Chapter 2 by Sumira Khan
Chapter 3 by Krusha Sahjwani
Chapter 4 by Sandeepa Mukherjee
Chapter 5 by Neha Gupta
Chapter 6 by Mohana Talapatra
Chapter 7 by Snigdha Mallik
Chapter 8 by Kanchana Banerjee
Chapter 9 by Harini Srinivasan