The run to the basement of the house was tiring. My car was safely parked in the basement, among others. My attire was shredded due to the friction in that room. I was covered in bruises and cuts, clotted all over my body. The pant was torn from top to bottom, as though I had drifted my ass off on the road. I started the car and headed back home.
I was late. She was home already. I had a little surprise planned for her. Of course, I had to change my attire. She was in the bedroom, lying on the bed like a scientist contemplating a new theory.
"Hey." I said this as I knocked on the open door. "How was your day?"
"Not as good as yours." She replied. I could feel the sorrow in that room.
"Want to talk about it?" I offered.
"To whom?"
"Me of course."
"No."
"Okay. I'll prepare dinner."
"Already done."
"Let's have it."
"Not hungry."
She got up from the bed and headed straight to the kitchen. Her eyes were puffy, her hair was a mess, and she was completely out of the mood for anything. What was the worst thing that could cause her so much pain?
"Kaira." I spoke. "What is going on? You can tell me."
She looked at me with rage that could perhaps threaten a murderer. Whatever she has gone through must have been rough. Did her patient die? Or maybe she got into a row with other doctors. She let out a sigh and looked down at the floor.
"I know you had a bad day, but..."
"Bad day?" She said before I completed. "It is the worst day of my life, and it's all because of you."
I was staggered and baffled at the same time. I felt guilty and wondered what I should do.
"Because of me?" I retaliated. "What have I done?"
"What have I done?" She repeated herself, mocking my ignorance of some sort. "You took away everything; that's what you did."
She looked at me, more confused than before. She sighed, this time a sorrowful one.
"Today I was fired." The started. "They told me I had lost a lot of patients goodwill and the lives of some who I could have saved. They tried contacting me, and I did not receive any."
I stepped closer and gently held her arms near the shoulder.
"I'm sorry." I apologized profusely while rubbing her arms gently. "But I did this to protect us."
Shea backed herself up to get out of my proximity.
"I would have been fine on my own, Rey. But you did not listen to me." She looked away, trying her best to control her tears. "When will you stop making it all about you?"
That last bit hit me on the face like a slap. I was offended, but I calmed down because I did not want to worsen her situation.
"That's not true. I did that for us, and you know that."
"Oh please." She said. "You know what? You think you're always right, but you aren't. You just have a smudged ego, puffed with your fucking pride." She said.
"Hey." I retaliated. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"See, you just proved yourself." She said this and walked back into her room.
"First, learn to take responsibility for your mistakes." The patience meter was at its maximum, on the verge of bursting.
"What did you say?" She turned back, triggered, and raged, fully aggressive. "You're telling me it's my fault?"
I stayed silent, staring into her eye. I knew I messed up, and so silence was perhaps the viable thing to do.
"How dare you?" She shouted. "Now it's my fault. I need to take responsibility."
I gestured for her to lower her voice.
"Let everyone know it." She screamed. "You know how pathetic you are. Because of you, we don't even have kids. You're just afraid and scared of everything."
"That's a different issue."
"No Rey. That is the truth. You can't take anything for granted. Just afraid of everything."
"That enough." I shouted. At this point, her tears started running down her face.
"I can't do this anymore." She was crying. "I'm going home."
She went back to the room and slammed the door shut. I sighed. It was a rough one. I sat on the sofa, partially repenting for some things that I said. I was in a sort of cognitive dissonance that troubled me. Furthermore, I could hear her crying inside. I did not want to go in and console her because I knew what I had, and it was not wrong. At least not entirely.
An hour later, or so it seemed, a taxi parked in front of the house. Then she opened the door. I saw her carrying an airbag.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Home." She said it without even looking at me.
"Don't just go like that. Let's talk about this."
She opened the door.
"Please." I continued. "I'm sorry, okay."
"There's nothing to talk about." She said. I could tell her tone was stuffed with the bubble in her throat.
She continued. I tried to stop her the best I could, but she did not listen. She took off in the taxi. Did not tell me how she would go, for how long, did not reply when I requested her to let me know once she reached there.
That day, the house was quiet. I could feel the emptiness permeating the house—an abandoned drought-waste land that is of no use. I sat on the couch, imagining the consequences this might bring, and without realizing it, I fell asleep.
The next day, I woke up to the sound of the newspaper hitting my door. The house was in a mess, and so was I. Of course, I was in no state to tidy it. I departed as fast as I could because I had to go to Coimbatore, which was a six-hour drive.
I was devoted to the investigation. My objective was to meet this family doctor because his unreasoned fallout, or what I assumed it to be, was peculiar.
Six hours and a half later, I was in Coimbatore. It was a tiresome drive. I was drained; my sugar level was struggling to maintain the predetermined level. I still had to go in search of his clinic. He was apparently a successful doctor with a well-established independent practice. He was quite respectful, from what I gathered.
I was on the periphery of the city when I spotted a restaurant. Immediately, I pulled over and rushed over to it to get refreshments for the further journey. Fortunately, they served a freshly prepared lunch with delicious desserts. I was ready to continue. But before I left, I tried to reach out to Kiara. She did not text me or message me. Technically, she should have reached her destination by now. I called her, but she did not answer. I tried again, but there was just no reply.
Likewise, I went out towards my car. To my dismay, cops had gathered around my car. They were getting it on their truck, which is only permitted when there is wrong parking or any special reason. I had no such reason. I ran towards them.
"Hey." I shouted. "What are you doing?"
"Are you Reyansh Joshi?" One of them asked.
"I am. Why are you taking it?"
"You're under arrest." He said. "We're ceasing your vehicle."
"Under arrest? For what?"
He commanded his subordinate to detain me, completely ignoring my question.
"I've got the right to know for what I'm being arrested." I asserted.
"I've got the right to shut you up." He retaliated.
One of his subordinates pushed me over to their truck and cuffed me. My hands were on my backside to completely restrain me.
"You're making a mistake." I said. He ignored me again.
They directed me towards their vehicle, which was an Ertiga. I shook my shoulders and pushed the man aside.
"I'm not going to come with you unless you get me a lawyer." I said.
The sub-inspector in charge, who was taking a smoke at the side, came close. He inhaled another breath and puffed it out. Then threw it on the road.
"So, you want a lawyer, huh?" He said.
Suddenly, I felt his fist shoved in my stomach; the men behind me held me tightly this time and threw me into their vehicle. He eventually got in, seated in the passenger seat beside the driver.
"You ask for the lawyer again, and I swear I'll get you down with a lati charge." He threatened.
There was something wrong. Firstly, they did not tell me for what reason they were detaining me. Secondly, they did not show any warrant, which is a necessity, except in a cognizable offense, which I had not committed. Lastly, they cuffed me, which is a serious offense.
⁕ ⁕ ⁕
Two hundred and fifty kilometers west, at the Coorg railway station, at about eight in the morning, a bald man in his sixties was waiting for the train. He was accompanied by his wife, who was half a decade younger than him. They were both dressed in traditional clothes. The man was dressed in a Kuppia with a long coat over it that extended to his knees and the sleeves to his elbows. His wife was in a bright, lustrous red sari with bangles in both her arms.
The train finally arrived at the station after being delayed for about an hour. Kaira alighted the train with her luggage, struggling to walk after a nine-hour journey.
"There she is." Said the man while pointing at her.
"I see her now." Replied his wife.
Kaira was slowly walking towards them. She struggled to carry her luggage.
"Hi Dad. Hi Mom." She said. Then she proceeded to touch their feet. Her mother touched her cheeks. A genuine smile on her face. Watching them, she sentimentally smiled.
"You must be tired. Come, let's go." Said the dad. She nodded, still in her sleepy state. "Let me carry it." He offered.
The train blew a long horn and departed from the station. It was a small one, with a few passengers who got down there. A few stations further was a junction where the businesses are established, which is quite a busy one. They got in a Sumo and drove back to the house.
The house was located at a distance from the station on agricultural land. It was a large ancestral property. The house was a triplex with a large backyard. They were a joint family, fortunately, with a rare history of hostility among them, all thanks to the elders.
The Sumo took a detour onto a dirt road that led to their house. Soon after that, they alighted and headed into the house. The house was in jollity, in contrast to her house, which was almost void of life, with more things than beings.
She met and greeted her relatives. It was almost like a "meet and greet" carnival. She had visited her house after many years. That is why her relatives recounted her days of yore.
TO BE CONTINUED