Choice

By Annesha Ghosh

"Hello"

-Hello, is it Mr. Nikhil Sharma?

-Yes, speaking.

-Mr. Sharma, could you please come down to the Central Jail? Your father has died this morning. There are some formalities.

It's a splotchy humid afternoon, a typical in Mumbai monsoons. Nikhil was returning home with a bag full of his father's items - clothes, a pen that mostly didn't work anymore and a photograph of his childhood - yes, that's how simple his papa was. If only he could prove that papa didn't deserve a life in jail, if only he could remember... Nikhil rubbed off the streaming tears quickly when the kaali-peeli took a turn from the main road into a narrow lane.

"Where... where are you going bhaiya?"

-Bhaisaab, this is shortcut, nahi to there will be a huge jam saamne

"Oh, ok...", Nikhil had no option other than to rely on the driver. Not only was he less affluent with the lanes of Mumbai, but also, he was not in the right headspace. He was always close to his dad Ince childhood. So when ma and papa separated, the fight over him became dirty. He still remembers watching them from behind the curtains, with frightened little eyes. He remembers almost everything from childhood, like burning flashes, everything...except that day - the day on which his grandmother died.

Wait…what? A creaky signboard disrupted Nikhil's train of thoughts. The taxi has already moved forward but he is sure that the signboard read "Change your past gift shop". That's so weird. Must be a gimmick. But…what if…?

Nikhil stopped the taxi quickly and paid off the confused driver. He then walked back and yes; there it was! A tiny, old, and almost brittle door with the weird signboard that hasn't been cleaned in ages! Nikhil pushed the door to enter a weirder empty room. Full of creepy artefacts and questionable lighting. He decided better to leave when a broken voice called from behind "How may I help you?"

-Umm…I saw your signboard

-Yes, what gift do you need? We have a good collection.

Nikhil had a look around at the creepy sculptures again and blurted out, "No thanks...umm...I was actually looking for the struck-out part...change your past"

That's when he saw the source of the voice. An old man, slightly bent with the weight of age and a perpetual irritated face. He looked grave when he replied, “We don't do that here, not anymore."

-But please! It's important!

The man turned and looked directly into Nikhil's eyes, “It’s always important! Today you want to bring your mother back, tomorrow you'd want to resurrect the fallen ice cream! Don't you realise it’s dangerous?" His voice was filled with contempt and anger.

Nikhil couldn't say anything. His eyes were filling once again, so he turned away and started leaving when the voice called out,” What do you want?"

Nikhil turned back, “I want to save my father. I know he didn't kill my grandma, but he suffered throughout his life for it! I want to change my life of having to grow up with my mother and her disgusting husband! I want to stop suffering from this painful memory loss sickness, that started from that day!"

The man's face visibly softened. He sighed, “But son, you must remember one thing. This is a onetime ticket. Make sure you don't do anything that you'd regret later."

-I... I understand!

The man took out an interesting looking machine from his drawer. It looked like a huge retro phone with many levers. The man now pulled out a metal plate and said, “Take this and keep it safe. Once you push the button in it, you'll be pulled back. Now, tell me the date you want to go to, and be precise."

-It was two days before my 10th birthday, that's what my mother had mentioned later. So, 13th July 1990.

The man pulled a lever, and everything went blur. When Nikhil slowly came to senses, he was in a very distant yet familiar place. He was in his childhood home. He could hear voices from downstairs. He carefully went outside and saw his papa, his dear Papa, talking to his younger self in the hall, “Listen Niki, they'll come again, they'll try to take you from me. Please don't come outside, okay? Papa loves you." Nikhil's heart was breaking. Nobody called him Niki anymore. He wanted to cry out and call his dad and hug him but then the killer won't be caught. He needed to know who had framed his dad.

The bell rang. Little Niki got scared and ran to hide in the kitchen. Dad was shaking too. He carefully opened the door when an old woman forced herself in - Nikhil's grandma.

"Where's Nikhil? Nikhil beta?", grandma papa aside and asked.

Both Nikhil and Niki are now hiding.

"Listen, you can't take Niki away from me", papa sounded fierce.

-Of course I can! He isn't safe with you! What do you feed him? We know you have lost your job, thanks to your craziness! I wonder what my daughter had found in you!

Papa's face was shifting between angry to sad to again angry. Yes, he had some psychological issues - anxiety, possessiveness, OCD, but instead of taking care of him, Nikhil's mom had cheated on him. This drove him mad, but he dearly loved his son, his precious, his own, and dared no one to lay hands on Niki.

Grandma was searching room after room by then. Nikhil could have stopped her, pacified her but he couldn't breathe. He was feeling a claustrophobic déja vù. Plus, he needed to save her from her killer, not face her before that.

Grandma found a scared, hidden Niki from the kitchen and pulled him out from the dustbin area. He cried and tried to shake her away, but she held him tightly. Papa was furious by now and was screaming, “Let him go!" in loop. He even picked up a knife and threatened her. Nikhil gathered all his courage and started getting down the stairs to save the situation when it happened. Niki had found a heavy paper weight and flung it at his grandma. A blunt hit on her head and she fell. Blood spread all around. The knife from dad's hands and Niki couldn't wrap his mind around what he just did. He fainted.

Papa was frantic! He didn't know what to do. He held and choked the paperweight, rubbed it protectively on his shirt, then checked on Niki. Realising Niki was alive, he measures his next steps. He brought a cloth and cleaned the bloody floor. He then carried the body and hid it in the storeroom. He washed the shirt and kept on washing till the stain was gone. After that, he put on their favourite song "Jamaican Farewell" and fed soup to a shaking and frightened Niki when he gained his senses.

And Nikhil? He sat frozen upstairs. He knows the story from here. Ma got worried and sent Police to check on her mom. The body was found. Niki was diagnosed with PTSD that stayed with him as temporary memory loss, and his father surrendered. His father was framed indeed, but by himself. His psychological issues had saved him from a life sentence, and Niki grew up with his strict, overbearing mother and her selfish husband.

But why didn't he do anything? He had the choice...or did he? Helping his father run away would anyway keep them apart. He wanted a life with his father, not in his mother's home, and definitely not in prison!

The bell rang. The police have come. Nikhil pressed the button.

By Annesha Ghosh