No matter how many times she heard the story she was still unsatisfied. It was always the same words, same sentences, and even the same speech patterns. Neither her mother nor her grandfather ever deflected from a single sentence of the story. It was as if they had rehearsed the script multiple times. She always felt that something was missing from the story as if something was being hidden from her but she never told anyone. Irrespective of how often she asked questions or heard the story, it always felt incomplete. She ignored the feeling because she thought she might be missing her father.
She climbed the stairs deep in her thoughts, "was that girl telling the truth? Is my father alive? If yes, why did mom lie about him? Why did he leave us? Why did he have another daughter? Does he have another family?" She shook her head to discard all the thoughts and reached her room. She closed the door behind herself and talked out loud, "na, not possible, I am thinking too much. Why would mom lie? Why would nanaji lie? If he never lies about mom and dad living in together, why would he lie about his death? My dad's photograph is on the wall. That girl definitely was a liar. I need to forget about her."
She opened her closet, took out a blue, printed t-shirt and brown pyjamas. She took off her clothes and kept them in the laundry hamper. She turned the shower on and let it run for a few seconds. She let down her waist-length, dark brown hair that had deep plum red highlights and then stood under the warm, pleasant water trying to wash away her worries. But her mind kept going back to the phone call.
"One phone call, just one phone call is enough to make you crazy, you idiot," she scolded herself. "Stop thinking about her. Think about your work, your designs, colours, fabrics, anything but that phone call, you super idiot. Spring fashion week is in 2 weeks and you have a lot of work to do. That phone call is not important. This should be your mantra: that phone call is not important, forget about it. Repeat after me: that phone call is not important, that phone call is not important. Good girl! Great! I am talking out loud with myself. Absolutely marvellous!" she facepalmed.
She heard a knock on her bathroom door.
"Yes," she shouted from the bathroom.
"Are you done?" a female voice said.
"You are back?" Ashma asked.
"No, my voice is reaching to you from another dimension," she joked.
"Mom! Give me five more minutes and I will be out," screamed Ashma over the sound of running water.
"Hurry up, I am hungry."
"Okay. I'll be downstairs in a moment."
"Be quick."
Ashma hurriedly finished her bath and came out of the bathroom wearing her towel. She blow-dried her hair, wore her clothes and came downstairs.
She was greeted with a smile on her mother's face. Ashma looked fondly at her mother. She was a beautiful woman who looked younger for her age. Her shoulder-length silver-grey hair added spark to her beauty. She mocked Ashma, "so, Priyanka finally kicked you out." Surya too smiled at the comment.
'Hey! I am her boss. You both need to stop saying things like that. Other people might get the wrong idea," she sulked.
"Okay, chief! Let's eat," said Surya.
"Ahh… Don't call me chief, nanaji. I don't know why my colleagues call me that but you two need to stop teasing me now," she pouted, again.
The house was filled with laughter. Both adults laughed at her pouting and they all surrounded the dining table for lunch. The dining hall was next to the kitchen so every family member helped Madhu to bring the dishes from the kitchen to the table. Madhu and Vidhi started placing the plates and spoons in their places.
"Madhu! What have you made for our Chief?" asked Surya.
"Nanaji!" screamed Ashma slightly annoyed, slightly amused with his tease.
"Everything I prepared is her favourite," replied Madhu.
"Thank you, Maasi (endearing term for aunty). I love you." Ashma went and hugged her from behind. Madhu was an old woman in her early sixties who was the housekeeper of the Dewan household. She looked after Ashma all her life. She was the first woman who held Ashma after her mother. Ashma too loved her with all her heart. Madhu was the one who was responsible for the whole household as both Ashma and Vidhi were working women. She cooked and cleaned for them and they treated her as their family member. "Now sit and eat. I will serve," announced Ashma. Everyone sat and started enjoying the delicious, steaming hot lunch.
The happy house was a little silent today as only Vidhi and Surya were talking with mild inputs from Madhu, Ashma was completely silent as her mind was still thinking about the call and the girl who claimed to be her half-sister. "What was the name that girl told me? Something Bong. Fantastic, you remember the man's name but not the girl's name. You moron." She kept ruminating.
"Are you okay?" Vidhi's voice brought Ashma back from her thoughts.
"What?"
"Are you okay?"
"Why does everyone keep asking me this question?" she snapped at her mother without realising the same.
"Because you look tired and you are very quiet today." Her mother replied with calmness and patience. "What happened?" she asked.
Ashma comprehended that she reacted harshly, so she coolly and calmly said, "nothing, as you said I am tired."
Vidhi stared at her closely and said, "no, something else is bothering you."
"How do you know that?" she tried to brush off her mother's concern.
"Because she is your mother," said Madhu.
"Because I am your mother, now tell me what is bothering you." Vidhi pressured Ashma.
Ashma took a deep breath and replied, "fine. I had a disturbing call today."
"What kind of a call?" asked Vidhi curiously.
"A girl from Korea called," started Ashma. The moment Vidhi heard the word Korea, a spoon fell from her hand. Her grandfather and Madhu stopped eating and immediately stared at her with their mouth open. Ashma gathered something was wrong as she noticed their extreme reaction with just the mention of the word 'Korea'. She instantly asked, "why did you guys react like that?" It became clear to her the next instant. "It means… it means… that… that whatever she said is… is… t… true."
"What? She? Who is she? What did she say?" asked Vidhi in a single breath.
Instead of answering her, Ashma asked her a different question, "who is Young-Soo, Mom?"
Vidhi pushed her chair backwards and instantly stood up. She was shivering and sweating at the same time. She asked in a quivering voice, "how do you know that name?"
Ashma was equally shaken. She had no idea what to say or to do. The story she knew all her life was all false. With just a phone call the lies were exposed and the truth was out. "That girl… that girl who called me said she is… she is my half-sister." She paused to check her elder's reaction. All three looked at each other and Vidhi's knees gave in. She sat with a thud on the chair. It was clear as a day to Ashma that her life has been a big lie till now and whatever the girl on the phone said was all true. "Is that true? Mom! Nanaji! That's true, isn't it? She is my half-sister. Young-Soo is my father. But my father is dead. You lied. You lied. Why? Why?" She stood from her chair and faced the wall with all the photographs. She asked with tears in her eyes, "then whose photograph is on our wall? Who is the person that I recognise as my father?"
No one spoke for a minute. They all kept their head held down.
"Who is he?" shouted Ashma.
"It's a distorted and photoshopped picture of him," replied Surya cautiously.
"Him?" was all Ashma could ask.
"Your father, Young-Soo," replied Surya. Ashma immediately stared at her mother for confirmation but Vidhi was completely silent. She sat on the chair in shock with her head bowed down. The truth she kept hidden all these years came into the light.
"What? Why? Why the lies?" with heavy steps Ashma stepped forward and asked in a sad voice.
"Stop talking, stop talking about him. He left us and went back to Korea," unexpectedly Vidhi shouted.
Ashma halted in her way and said, disappointingly, "am I the reason? He didn't want me? Was he ashamed of me? Why did he abandon me?" her shoulders dropped, eyes filled with tears. She was slowly getting angry at herself. She never wanted any validation from a male counterpart but why was it hurting so much that her father left her before she was even born.
"He didn't abandon you. He loves you," Vidhi replied without wasting any second. She understood her daughter was holding herself responsible for Young-Soo leaving them.
"What do you mean?"
"He was involved in every aspect of your life."
"You are lying. I never saw him, I never met him, you never said a word about him. We don't even have a single photograph of him and now he is dying and wants to meet you?" blurted out Ashma.
"What? What did you just say?" shouted Vidhi.