Friendship

By Rahul Jain

I woke up dreading this day, which had finally arrived. My ex-girlfriend was getting engaged to my best friend. As I heard Amma scream in the background, I did not feel like leaving the bed. Unfortunately, the guy Smitha was getting engaged to, Chidu, was my cousin. That was probably the reason I hadn't punched him.

“Get up, Mani!” Amma screamed again at the top of her lungs, and I squinted to prevent the glaze from her gaudy saree. She was decked up like a bride, or at least like the bride’s mother. Engagements and marriages are good opportunities for people to hide their financial troubles. You could always arrange for an above-average piece of jewelry for a few hours. Our relatives kept wondering why my mother had such good taste in ornaments, which never repeated. After all, her son was a cab driver, and the husband was a retired railways foreman. Amma had her arrangement with the local jewelry store. She will be the social butterfly adorning jewelry from the shop, and her marketing skills will flock customers to it. Two customers a month was the deal, and Amma was a high performer.

“What, Amma?” I rubbed my eyes, raising my voice in rebellion.

“Everyone in the house is ready, but you are still luxuriating in your sloth. I am leaving with Appa. You come, don’t come, I don’t care. However, if you decide not to come, pack your bags and start sleeping in your cab starting this evening. Got it?” She announced the verdict and stormed outside the room, but not before she pushed the curtains wide open.

The sunlight hit my face, making me cover my face with a pillow. It made me practice for the afternoon when I ducked after seeing both Smitha and Chidu together. They would smile, radiant in their mean parlor bliss and Nalli silks’ costumes, while I would hide in the local shop's most expensive yet cheap knockout. They would look at me with pity, almost sad for my soul. After all, I had lost both my love and my friendship. And it all changed in a few weeks, just like that.

This is why she left me, isn’t it – Chidu was a head trainer in the gym of a national chain, having an earning potential of three times more than me. I was earning incentives by driving day and night over the weekends, while all Chidu had to do to show a dream of being fit to another wealthy but obese client. They all wanted transformation. And Chidu was a charmer. Much better than me, Smitha’s ex, who was absent every weekend, ensuring that the drunk customer in his cab reached home safely. It doesn’t matter if I saved enough money to buy more cars or for marriage. She wanted me to be around, and I wasn’t. Chidu was there with her, though. For all those nights when she was sick, and I was a hundred kilometers away, I called Chidu to take care of the love of my life, and he did. Once, twice, and then until Smitha stopped calling me. Later, when I met her at a cafe, Chidu joined us and told me they were dating.

Chidu paid the bill, looked into my eyes, and said, “Please do not forget to come to our engagement. You are the reason we are together today.” What a joke! I stood up, and the plastic chair fell with the force of my calves. Smita looked at me with folded hands, stood up, and said, “ I never loved you, Mani. I thought I did, but only Chidu showed me what true love means. I know this hurts you, but this is better for all three of us.” Ha! And just like that, she put the last two years of our incessant expectancy and hopeless romanticism down the drain. She also came clean in front of her future husband, who sipped his filtered coffee, looking at me with condescending eyes.

I wanted to laugh at that instant. On myself. On my hopes. On my naivety. On her hypocrisy. On his treachery.

I did not realize I was crying at that moment of helplessness. The moment when you want to smother the people in front to death, but the diktats of the society ask you to man up and move on. I stuttered my pathetic body out of the cafe, away from the eyes of those filthy souls.

Sharath’s call took me out of my self-loathing thoughts. Chidu and Smitha can go ChiSmi off. I picked up his call and waited to stop yawning before I could curse the only other member left from the three musketeers group of me, Chidu, and him. I could not hear him, and I shoved the thin blanket to the side to scratch my crotch, get my heels on the ground, and scoot onto the balcony to answer the bugger.

“Hello!!!” I shouted this time but only heard back a static, and the sound pierced my ears. For a moment, there was a blank. I felt blood in my mouth, and my vision turned blurry. The shriek of the static vanished, and I wondered if I had gone deaf.

“CAW! CAW! CAW!” A colossal crow made its loud raspy signature call, scaring me to death. I looked into the sadist’s eyes and threw the matchbox from my boxer. I felt its stare and realized I had nothing to light my Kings now.

The cigarette without a light reminded me of my lonely soul, which had no purpose for living. It just existed. Just surviving. Just breathing. What if it stopped? Would that make my pain lesser and my heart lighter? Would that let air back into my lungs, making it easier to get rid of this putrid smell and this awful sense of jugging blood in my veins?

The chaos was interrupted by a ping from the only friend left in my life. He would probably become a foe when I made another girlfriend, if that was ever going to happen.

‘Where are you? The engagement is about to begin, and Aunty told me I need to drag your sorry ass to the function.’ – read his WhatsApp text. I twitched, knowing that Amma had planted an accomplice to ensure I brought my dejected soul to face more disparagement. I wish she knew about my relationship with Smitha. I hope they all knew about our relationship. Smitha may have thought twice before cheating on me.

I recalled there was a matchbox I had hidden earlier inside the washroom. Perfect timing. Amma kept wondering if it was Appa who filled the toilet with a cigarette smell early in the morning or me, and we both had each other’s back. We told Amma that it was the neighborhood smoker who made the ambiance putrid, the one who had his toilet adjacent to ours.

I rushed in and started doing my business, lighting the cigarette quickly. As the cigarette turned into fumes, fulfilling the purpose of its being, my thoughts wandered to Chidu and Smitha again. I tried to quieten the noise by closing my eyes, but the chaos did not subside. Suddenly, I felt I could not breathe, and as I opened my eyes, the toilet seemed full of smoke from my half-lit cigarette. It was odd. This was three inches of nicotine wrapped in paper, not a pile of old crap burning in the backyard.

The heaviness in the air made it feel like an impending loom. The silence was eerie, and even the water from the tap stopped dripping. For a moment, I thought I had gone deaf till I realized something was coming towards me. It felt like someone I knew, as I could hear the person whining in pain. I tried hard to recall who he was, but my head felt heavy, and my eyes turned watery. Through the blur and the smoke, the figure slowly approached me and stopped a few feet away. I tried to speak, but no words would come out of my paranoia, and the sweat now dripped from my face because of all the fear. Suddenly, the figure rushed towards me with a scream, and I closed my eyes, feeling something had entered inside me.

I finally could shout and jumped from the commode. I opened my eyes, and the loo looked as it was before. The cigarette was half lit but on the floor, and my heart was racing fast, almost as if it would come out of my rib cage. My profuse sweat dripped on the floor without noise, and I cleaned myself hurriedly to open the door. No one was at home, so I decided to shower with the door open lest I hallucinate again.

As the water cleansed my body and brought my thoughts back to reality, I lathered the soap hard on all places where Smitha had kissed or touched me. That would have been almost everywhere, and the thought of her touching Chidu now in the same way and maybe even more made me nauseous. Did she allow him to kiss her with her tongue? Did she blow him, as she never even licked my manhood? My hands rolled over and over my chest, forming a thick lather, and somewhere my disgust over the illicit relationship that blossomed behind my back mixed with my tears in the shower.

I wiped myself dry with the battered towel and put on the dress. I went to the mirror to comb my hair and noticed my face seemed hazy. As I raised my eyebrows, I saw something red on the side of my head. It came as a rush, and I realized it was blood. I touched my head – it was dry, and I couldn’t spot any blood. As I looked back in the mirror to reconfirm, I spotted the exact figure I saw in the loo earlier, lurching behind my back. I got terrified and looked back. There was nothing, and I turned again to see the mirror. The figure was out of the mirror and pounced on me. I fell on the bed, terrorized.

At that instant, the sun seemed to be back in the room. As my mind cleared from the nightmarish hallucinations, I remembered whose face the figure resembled. I immediately dialed Sharath’s number on my mobile.

He picked up, but I couldn't hear him. The static was back again, this time louder, and I cut the call. I dropped him a message - ‘ Saw a weird dream last night about you. Hope you are ready and weren't kidding the last time when you called me to rush.’

“Okay, come.” was his reply after two minutes. He did not call back, and I understood that he must have gone to the shower now to get ready. He was more laid back than me and was just trying to ensure I left the house.

Maybe the pangs of hunger were driving me crazy earlier. I thought of eating the rotting apple and the tea Amma had left for me in the kitchen. I went to the kitchen and fed my stomach with the fuji apple, and as I finished it, I felt a weird taste in my mouth. I looked at whatever was left of the apple, and saw a tiny caterpillar inside, which made me nauseous again. The apple was not only rotten, but it was hosting other creatures as well. I spat the morsel in the sink and switched on the tap, which threw out unusual air noise. What the hell was happening? I decided to change the bitter taste of my mouth and gulp Amma’s special tea. I had assumed it would have turned lukewarm by now, considering she had made the same at least half an hour ago, but it was piping hot, almost burning my tongue, damaging my food pipe, and burning my stomach.

“Faacck!!!” I shouted in exasperation and picked up the bike’s key from the table. I went out in scorching heat, regretting not leaving with my bickering parents earlier in their Alto. I thought of taking my cab for a moment, but then I was clear about not using the cab during family functions. Also, the cab and its back seat reminded me of all the times when Smitha and I made out during the rainy days when our libidos matched at the pinnacle. I rolled the bike’s accelerator hard, beeping the horn in its full glory, and rushed towards Sharath’s house. Partly to reach on time, partially to run away from the excruciating pain of my ex, and partially because the sun was burning my lifeless skin.

—-

The tires screeched as I came to a seemingly daunting halt in front of Sharath’s house. He lived on the second floor of a depreciating house. The GF housed the owner, the first floor a middle-aged family, and the second floor was a terrace with just one room, where Sharath stayed. He chose the terrace so that he could use the open space for his exercises during the day, and at night, he drank to his heart’s content, sometimes inviting losers like a few of his other good-for-nothing friends and me.

He came rushing down the stairs, water still shining on his wet head. The asshole had himself taken a bath a couple of minutes ago but dared to rush me half an hour back. I wanted to scream at him, but he was coming down with a lovely smile, like always, the one that could get him away from murder as well.

He noticed my frown and asked me, faking an angry tone - “ What? If your ex cheated on you, should we stop smiling or what?” I did not reply and kicked to start the bike, but it would not start. I tried once more, and then again, and then again. It did not start, and my Mojdi came out at the last kick. My ankle touched the silencer trying for another kick, and I burned some skin.

“Facck! Facck! Facck!” I screamed again and continued – “This is the worst day of my life!”

“Oh, is it? What about the day she called you at the cafe and broke up in front of Chidu? I thought you said that one was the worst.” Sarcasm and Sharath went hand in hand. I looked at him with all the fury I could muster, and his blatant guffaw irritated me further.

Before I could break his neck with a punch, he took out a quarter of Royal scotch from his Nehru Jacket. I could smell alcohol on his breath from last night when we sat together bitching about my pathetic life and cursing the cheating ex. And the manipulative ex-friend, who now had everything in life.

He threw the bottle towards me, challenging me to catch the elixir for my soul. I opened the seal and gulped the quarter down in defiance. Sharath enlarged his eyes and snatched the bottle away from me. “Man up, and stop brooding. I will drive,” he said. The bike started on his first kick, and his eyes looked at me mockingly.

I stole my eyes from his gaze and made my way to the pillion, hazed by the sudden rush of alcohol in my blood. He took out another quarter from his jacket and gulped half to give me the rest. “Finish it,” he said. “ How many bottles do you have?” I asked innocently. “Enough for you to forget the backbiters,” he replied.

I nodded as he sped the accelerator, knowing very well at that point that probably only death could bring peace to my dejected soul. I closed my eyes to stop the tears from making their way down to my unkempt beard. Some did still, and soon I realized they weren’t my tears; it had started to rain. Sharath continued to drive, and I asked him to stop in the shade.

“What? And make love to your whine? Forget it.” He scoffed, “Let’s just get over with it, dude.” I knew he was right. The rain was just picking up, and if we were lucky, we would be able to reach the venue before the water trickled down inside our clothes, making our underwear wet. We could not afford to procrastinate, and if we got any later, we would miss the ring ceremony. I would then never hear the end of it from Amma.

“I hallucinated a couple of times this morning. I saw you all battered and bloody, and I am not sure where that came from.” I shared with Sharath, almost shouting over his shoulder. “ You are going mad, dude. Last night’s weed hit you in the morning.” He yelled back, his head leaning towards mine.

We reached the venue. His front was a bit wet, and my back complemented him. His back and my front completed the second set, and we looked like jokers. The Shubh convention center, good enough to host thousands of crowd members, was adorned with flowers, temporary decorations, and never-ending shamianas.

The decoration was a medley of themes and colors – pink and blue. Each represented a different shade of the couple. For outsiders, pink represented happiness, aka Smitha, and blue represented strength, aka Chidu. In my heart, I knew the truth — pink meant her superficial and deceitful love, and blue depicted Chidu’s cold heart towards the promise of our friendship.

The venue seemed deserted, and while the rain could be held responsible, the silence in the air was heavy. We parked the bike along with a few others on the side and rushed inside before we got wet any further. Were we the last, and had everyone left already? Was this the right venue? We confirmed the names at the entrance.

Sharath looked at me wondering the same, and I saw a few figures moving ahead, almost like a haze. The pathway from the parking to the main hall, adorned with flowers, closed in on us as the shamiana got heavy by the second because of the pouring rain. We started running, worried that it would fall upon us. As Sharath and I pulled the heavy wooden door of the hall, it creaked, and a bright light shone from inside, bringing the noise from inside like a rush, and Sharath and I were relieved.

We entered the hall, and many of our friends from the gym, the colony, and the school came forward to greet us. To Sharath with smiles, and me with pity. Smitha and I were like open secrets in my close friend circle, and even though Amma and I never talked about it, I had a hint that she always knew about her and me.

The thought of Amma made my eyes search for her, and I saw her talking backstage to her cousin, Chidu’s mom. They were intently talking about the arrangements, and I had this sudden rush to go and sob into her arms. My legs moved forward, and Sharath caught my arm, “Where are you going?”

“I wanted to let Amma know I have come,” I said.

“It’s okay, Mani. She saw me earlier, and my eyes told her you had come. Don’t go near her right now. You are pitch drunk. Have a smoke, and eat something to cover the smell.” He said, and pulled me to another side of the hall, along with other friends from our gang. The unhappy humans stepped out, and we saw Chidu standing there as well, trying to catch a puff or two before he got engaged to the love of my life.

He looked at me, arrogance and ego still filling his eyes. He blew his smoke in the air, staring at me, almost mocking my defeat and my existence. Sharath blocked Chidu’s vision and lit his cigarette, making it clear to Chidu which side he was on. I borrowed my light from Sharath as well and lit a cigarette too. It was almost as if we made a statement: ‘ you did not honor the bro code, and now you are no longer a part of the coterie.’ Two other friends joined our backs, too, as Chidu and a few of his friends laughed loud to dissipate the tension before it brewed into anything else. They went inside the hall, and our eyes followed their entourage till they merged into the crowd.

Sharath patted my shoulder, “You don’t need to go inside. I will get your plate from inside, and we will show our faces to relatives once we wear off the smell. We will say hello, and then we all can go to my place to drink this day off. What do you say?”

I smiled at my brother from another mother. “Sounds like a plan,” I said.

—-

As Sharath went inside, I thought of washing my face once to reduce the smoke smell. A little bit of water gushing in my mouth may get rid of the alcohol smell, too, before I suppressed it further with whatever Sharath brought me to eat. I told my friends I would be back, and they nodded.

The food had just been served, and there was no one in the wash area yet. This was a little ahead of where we were smoking, right beside the kitchen, where I could see the chefs and the helpers doing their best to satiate the hunger of over 500 people inside the hall. I opened the tap in the stone basin, five of them in a row, and splashed water on my face. The mirror in front of the long basin had turned green over time and needed to be cleaned by acid before it hosted another ceremony. I judged Chidu and Smitha’s family for choosing this cheap venue.

I gargled with water, but it tasted funny. Probably the tank wasn’t cleaned for a while, and I spit the water. I noticed it was red, just like blood. I was petrified, and I shouted to call my friends. No one came, and I looked back to see the whole section was empty. I looked at the passage and then the kitchen, and there was no one around. I looked into the mirror and saw blood on my mouth again. I leaned in closer to check and saw a cut on my head, which was scary. I jumped back and fell on the stoned floor.

I heard someone crying, and my face turned toward the origin of the sound. The cry sounded like a sobbing cacophony, and instead of empathy, it incited a feeling of disgust and fear inside me. I noticed an older woman in the corner, with her head down, taking the rest on her hands. The hands rested on the knees, and she seemed broken, inside-out. I was intrigued by her presence, as she appeared out of place to otherwise a location that organized celebrations.

I walked up to her and said, “Aunty?” When she did not look up, I shouted again, at a higher note this time. She did not stop. I then touched her arm, shaking her body, and she immediately stopped crying. “Are you okay, Aunty?”

“Buzz off,” was her reply. I was taken aback at the blasphemy, but she had at least stopped crying. “What happened, aunty?” I asked again.

She tried to wipe her face clear and stood up. She looked like she badly needed a shower, and I could see ringworms on her neck. The tears mixed with dust left marks on her face, and she started smiling. Her smile made me recognize who she was. “I miss you,” she said.

It was Amma. To my horror, I had never seen her this disheveled, wearing tattered clothes, her hair all white. A sudden flash of lightning further made me notice the dark circles under her eyes, and I barely managed to blurt ‘Amma’ to her. She started crying again, and as my hands went to console her, she started screaming in a pitch that made me want to close my ears.

I felt someone’s hand on my shoulders and jumped back.

“Are you okay?” It was Sharath, with a plate full of starters. He looked at me as if he was looking at a fanatic and that I was someone who was embarrassing him. My other friends were standing at a distance, looking at me perplexed and worried.

“Dude, I don’t know what is happening. I keep having these hallucinations, and they are scaring the shit out of me.” I let it all out in one breath.

“Eat Macha, eat. You need some food in your system to talk sense. You are going through a turmoil, which happens when you fall into severe depression.” Sharath coaxed me into eating a few bites, which was yummy. I hated that I liked it, and it suddenly brought some energy inside my famished spirit.

The other friends from our gang joined us with a few more plates, and for the next few minutes, we talked about going to some place to visit during the upcoming holiday season. All boys, all bikes. The bikers' trip. I thought about the loss I would make in my taxi business as holiday seasons are very good for the cabs, but then a time out with the boys will be good for my mental health. It will also be an escape from reality back in town.

“Let us go and finish off the formalities. When I went in, aunty asked us to be near the stage. I would tag along with you; hope that is okay?” Sharath asked me. His parents resided in Kerala, and I was the only family he had.

We dragged our loser selves toward the stage. The rings had been exchanged, and people were just coming and greeting the newly engaged couple. I thought the whole celebration was a sheer waste of money. Who celebrates the engagement these days? Even marriage receptions were a sham, but since everyone celebrated them, I could still get convinced of the logic.

For a moment, I thought – what was bothering me so much about this liaison? Was it the pain of losing my love? Was it the pain of losing my best friend? Was it the betrayal? Was it my ego? Or, simply put, was it jealousy?

Sharath nudged me to move ahead in the line, and Amma and Appa joined us. Amma looked into my eyes and asked if I was okay. I blinked my eyes with a smile. Appa behaved nonchalantly, and I know he was mentally counting the minutes before he got done with the gift-giving routine and crashed the buffet spread.

Amma came beside me and caught my arm. Her touch made me want to hug her and cry my heart out. Behind me was Sharath, and in front of us was Appa. Amma looked at me and asked if I was drunk, and I nodded in negation. She sighed. A mother always knows.

As we climbed the stairs of the makeshift stage and went near Chidu and Smitha, they froze looking at me but managed to put on plastic smiles. Appa gave them an envelope and shook hands with both of them, and superficial pleasantries were exchanged. Post that, Amma stood beside Chidu, and I stood beside Amma. Appa stood beside Smitha and Sharath beside Appa. Six of us were on the stage, and many in the hall went quiet.

The photographer asked us to smile, and we did manage to fake one. Amma brought her lips closer to me and said, “You are a far better human being than he is, and you deserve a fairy much better than Smitha.” I looked at her, and she kept smiling, her eyes still in front of the photographer’s camera. I had tears in my eyes, and it was difficult to smile now, but Amma’s words brought me instant relief.

My eyes did not meet Chidu and Smitha’s as I went down the stage. I looked at Sharath, and as we came further from the stage, I told him we had to get out of there. Sharath nodded and took out the bike keys. My eyes looked for Amma and saw that she and Appa were catching up with some relatives near the stage.

Sharath and I rushed out of the hall. It was raining heavily now, and the weather was even more somber than before. We were the only ones who came out, and Sharath asked me what I wanted to do.

“I want to get drunk and knock my brains out.” I wished.

“Sure,” he replied as he brought the wet bike back to action.

—-

Sharath swayed on the highway while the rain battered our new clothes. The water formed small brooks on the side of the road, and the potholes came to life as beautiful spots on the canvas of the tar road. There were hardly any vehicles on the road as the rain god unleashed fury on our town, cleansing all its buildings. The fields on the side looked all glee and green, and I could imagine frogs jumping in the puddles.

I wish the rain could wash away my pain. I wanted it to cleanse my soul and clear my memories. They say that time heals everything, but I know we humans just learned to live with the pain. The memories you share with that person whom you wished you could grow old with haunt you. That smile, which used to make my day, was the one that mocked my existence today. What they say may be true. I will never be able to forget her, and only death would be the panacea to my quagmire.

My tears mixed with the rain, and as I kept my head on Sharath’s shoulder, I wished God would instantly relieve me of this unflinching pain through sudden death.

“I can barely see the road,” Sharath said.

“Let’s stop at the next available shade. Maybe we could finish the remaining bottle in your Nehru Jacket.” I shouted to overpower the noise of rain between me and my rider.

He nodded. As he did so, he turned his face toward me, and suddenly, a truck came from the opposite direction. It honked, seeing the puny bike and its two riders at the last moment, and both the vehicles steered in the opposite direction to save a potential crash. Maybe, by a fraction of a second, Sharath and I had just saved our lives. We halted the bike immediately on the side of the road, our legs deep into one newly come-to-life brook. The truck driver stopped his vehicle too, and after cursing us for a while, his abuse got lost in the sound of the rain as he carried on with his journey.

We realized there was a bus stand where we had halted, and Sharath and I ran inside it to save ourselves from the never-ending downpour. “Let’s start again after the rain stops. I don’t think we should die because your chick decided to get engaged to your best friend.” Sharath said. I nodded, rubbing my hair to wash off some water from my head.

“What if we did?” I asked him.

“I will still be on your side.” He smiled as he replied.

We were exhausted, dehydrated, and intoxicated. Sharath had taken the support of my shoulder and was snoring in a few seconds. His snoring beat the downpour, and I smiled at his innocence. I should be happy that Sharath was with me. I don't know what would have happened had Smitha taken Sharath and not Chidu.

I also started yawning and felt like my body could break into pieces at that instant. I took the support of the wall of the bus stand, and after a while, I fell asleep. Before sleeping, I noticed a homeless guy curled up near the corner of the bus stand, his face invisible because of the hoodie.

My slumber took me back to my house, on my bed, on a bright morning. My head was in Amma’s lap finally, and she was putting oil in my head. She massaged it hard as I closed my eyes and repeated the same thing she said at the function: “You deserve a better life partner. It’s time to move on.” Sharath was standing on the side of the bed, eating a banana, and he nodded. “You are right, aunty. It’s time for him to move on.” I closed my eyes again.

There is some magic in a mother’s touch. There is some magic in your best friend’s uninhibited companionship. I decided to attempt moving on. Their belief made me stronger. Their love made me want to start a new chapter in life.

I woke up to someone shaking me profusely, shouting at the top of his lungs. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” I opened my eyes and saw that the homeless guy, the one with crooked teeth and a battered hoodie, having boils on his face, was using all his strength to move my arms. I jumped at once, feeling disgusted by his touch.

He noticed my discomfort and started laughing loudly. That laugh gave me jitters as my eyes searched for Sharath, who was nowhere to be seen. I looked outside the bus stand, it was bright and sunnier than ever, and the road had regular traffic. I tried to call Sharath, but the network couldn't connect. Despite all the vehicles on the road, this guy’s laughter pierced my eardrums, and I turned my head away. I saw that almost a hundred feet away, a crowd was gathered. I assumed Sharath would have gone to see what the commotion was about. I stepped outside the bus stand to get away from the laughter of this creepy homeless person. He continued to guffaw as I moved away.

I rushed to see what had happened, and it seemed like there was some accident. I made my way through the crowd, and everyone was so engrossed in the incident that no one noticed me. Some people were busy calling ambulances, while others took pictures. I reached the front of the inner circle and saw it then.

Sharath was lying on the road, blood on the tar encircling his head. I ran to him and felt that he had no pulse. I wanted to shout, but the voice would not come out of my mouth. I stepped back, unable to believe what I was just seeing. I looked around for help and noticed my bike, further away, crashed on the side of the road.

A few feet away, I saw Amma crying hysterically with a body in her lap. I feared something had happened to Appa. Amma resembled the attire of the person I hallucinated about earlier. I took small steps to face the inevitable, tears now rolling down my eyes and my whole body trembling out of anticipation of bad news. I moved into the crowd, albeit slowly, one by one.

As my eyes flared after recognizing the body in my mother’s lap, I noticed my sobbing Amma was running her fingers lovingly through the dead body’s head. Appa was sitting on her side, his one hand on his head and his other palm clasped in the palm of his dead son. My feet went back, and I felt blood inside my mouth.

I reached a place where the crowd formation was now feet away from me. I still had to make sense of what was happening. My breathing had vanished, and I could not feel my heartbeat. Almost as if my body was now hollow, and my soul was struggling to leave it.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned back to see Sharath standing tall and smiling.

“Didn’t I tell you I will always be on your side?” He said.

By Rahul Jain