The car, as well as Manorama’s thoughts, were rushing at full throttle. Her almond-shaped eyes were now only spottily lined with kajal and darting across the road, trying to look for any semblance of life. Her overworked mind scrambled to string together the pieces of information that had manifest themselves since this day began.
This day – what day was it even? Her phone said ‘12:45pm, Tuesday’, but who was to know, really? Not like she had to worry about signing the right date on the exam papers that she had left strewn all over her place! The thought made her giggle, and the sound made her think about her children. Where were Divya and Aarav? She couldn’t stop herself from thinking of all the horrible things that could have happened to them, and the last of her kajal came flowing down her cheeks like rivulets.
Vivek, in the passenger seat, was breathing hard beside her.
‘Are you about to throw up? I can stop on the side.’ Manorama looked over at him and discovered that he was desperately probing the pockets of his jeans and shirt.
He gestured for an inhaler with his hand and Manorama, out of habit, looked in her rear-view mirror and switched the left indicator on before swiftly changing lanes, bringing the car to an abrupt halt. She pushed Vivek’s seat back and rummaged through the car interiors for his lost inhaler. Plastic found her hands and she briskly handed over the inhaler to Vivek. He pumped it thrice and took deep breaths until his breathing returned to normal. Calm descended on his face, and Manorama couldn’t help but gawk in awe at its uncanny resemblance to Vinod’s. This face was living proof of her husband’s infidelity: his erroneous lust.
Finally, able to breathe, Vivek felt Manorama’s intent eyes on him and cleared his throat. ‘What was that you asked me back at papa’s office? The seven sins?’ Manorama was instantly carried back fifteen years in time (her time), to her historical literature class at Hindu College. The Divine Comedy by Dante had always intrigued her and been her favourite. Of course, back then, she had not known that it would come to haunt her living days so.
‘Have you heard of Dante’s Inferno? There are seven deadly sins known to man – envy, wrath, greed, lust, gluttony, sloth, and pride. They are known as the capital vices or cardinal sins in Christianity. Vivek and I had a theory, that the world and all its inhabitants would be punished for their sins, in death, when the time was right. All but the most malevolent,’ she said, and as she spoke, she felt a vague sense of déjà-vu clouding her mind. She tried to focus on Vivek, whose eyes had grown wide with some kind of realization.
‘What is it?’ she asked. She knew that look all too well. What had this young boy done? Vivek’s face grew somber, and he held tight onto his inhaler. All these months he had been telling himself that he was not at direct fault, but could this theory be true? He needed to hold on to the truth a little longer and find Ma first. ‘Nothing, I just …’ he let the awkward pause hang heavily in the humid heat of the car.
Manorama turned on the ignition and rolled up the windows. On a reflex, Vivek turned on the radio and an old, familiar song filled up the dreary silence. Manorama sat up straight. She suddenly felt like on the cusp of something, or maybe she was just turning insane. ‘Can it be possible?’ she mumbled incoherently to herself and Vivek’s ears stood up. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked genuinely concerned.
‘What’s your mother’s name?’ she asked.
Vivek stammered, ‘S … Smita, Smita Bakshi.’
Her déjà -vu grew stronger. This conversation felt too eerily familiar, and the name – Smita Bakshi! How could she know a name so well and still not know whom it belonged to? She could hear Ranjit snicker at her faintly, ‘you really think it’s that simple?’ his voice tinged the air. She turned up the volume of the radio to drown out his voice. Like a lightning bolt, the epiphany struck her.
She pulled the handbrake and the car jerked, throwing Vivek’s head towards the windshield. He put his hands in front just in time to soften the blow. She turned towards him, touching his shoulder, her eyes filled with renewed spirit.
‘Okay, you’ll think I am crazy, but you have to hear me out.’
‘Umm…okay.’
‘Have we met before? Have you driven me to your place before or vice-versa?’
‘No, not to my knowledge. Wait, why are you suddenly asking? Do you know me or my mom?’
‘I don’t know about that. But I think this isn’t the first time we’re together in this car.’
‘What are you saying, Manorama?’
‘I’m saying that we’ve lived today before. We’re reliving it, and I don’t think it’s the first time!’
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Chapter 1 by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
Chapter 2 by Sumira Khan
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Chapter 9 by Harini Srinivasan
Chapter 10 by Gitanjali Maria
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