When Strangers Meet (50000 ebooks sold): 3 in 1 Box Set

by K. Hari Kumar

  ‘He never blamed you or anyone for his drinking habits.’ Kanna tried to drive away my guilt.

  ‘You know who is responsible for all this! We all know. Just… just… just tell me what do I do now?’

  ‘The money…’

  ‘Yes! Yes, I will get the money.’ I declared.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Kanna checked.

  ‘I am!’ I knew I would have to beg from a few more people than I had anticipated, but I know I could arrange that amount. I would break all the bonds, even the ones that were not mature yet. The banks would charge me with high rates of penalty for breaking immature bonds. But I had to do it. I had to make it up for my father. I am the reason that has left him half dead and now I must bring him back to life.

  Martin patted on my back, ‘Hey brother, I will arrange for some hassle free sum as soon as possible. You just do not worry.’

  ‘We are all with you, Krishna!’ said a calmingly sweet voice. It had been Padma. I stared at her with my crimson eyes. I wanted to apologize to her for my arrogant behavior shown fourteen years ago. I wish I could take back those words that I had said which ended our short-lived relationship. I smiled beside tearful eyes acknowledging her efforts. Words, all those words I had said to Padma took her away from me. All those words that I had said to Appa were now taking him away from everybody.

  Just words! Words of hurt! Words that hurt. Why did I have to say all those words?

  Martin pressed my palms warmly to notify me of their presence.

  Padma ascended from her chair and took our leave, she reasoned, ‘Krishna, I will have to leave you now. I have to pick up Lakshmi from school. ’

  ‘Lakshmi?’ I asked.

  ‘My daughter.’

  ‘You… you are married?’ I asked in shock.

  ‘Well, seasons change, don’t they? Goodbye everyone, I will see you later.’ She turned around and started leaving.

  Seasons change. But she was not wearing anything that portrayed her as a married woman. No ring or mangalsootra. There was no mark of kumkumam on her forehead, the symbol of every Hindu woman’s marriage. I looked at Kanna, startled.

  ‘She got divorced two years ago.’ Kanna explained noticing the startle on my face.

  That was the second most depressing news I had received that hour. As I looked at her leaving out through the door of The Café, a melancholic strain passed through my soul. Deep down that melancholy, I felt responsible for her divorce. Maybe she could not let go off me. After all, First love is first love.

  I got back to my current priority which was gathering the requisite amount of money and getting to my father who was admitted somewhere in Delhi. I asked Martin, ‘Hey, can I depend on you for the tickets too. I need to pack up my stuffs and fetch some money.’

  He agreed, ‘Hmm... Would you like to leave tomorrow?’

  ‘Make it for tonight itself. I do not want to waste any more time here,’ I turned towards Kanna, ‘book two tickets in any class.’

  ‘Anna! I cannot make it. Not right now. My wife is expecting our first baby anytime this week. I could only come after…’

  ‘What?’ I could not believe it! My little Kanna is not little anymore, ‘Hariprasad! I am so happy for you!’ I cried. This was the first time ever I had summoned him by his real name, Hariprasad. He had always been my little Kanna, but now he had grown up. I could not decide which way I should let my tears flow. There were both tears of pain and joy. I hugged Kanna tightly once again.

  Padma was right, Seasons change.

  Thirty Four

  Chennai Central Railway Station

  06:25 pm

  I returned to my quarters with Kanna. He helped me with the packing. We talked for a little while about all those years we were together and the years we were not. Kanna left for Tuticorin in the evening after tea.

  Martin had booked my ticket and had arranged around one lakh in cheque for me. He promised some more money by next Tuesday. I was more than grateful to whatever help he had already done for me. I felt burdened by this gratitude. He drove me to the railway station in his Maruti Swift. My train was to arrive at about fifteen minutes past seven. Martin could not stay for a long time at the station; he had to attend a client in Ambattur.

  After he had left me at the station, thoughts came bouncing back into my mind.

  Thoughts of fear, guilt and pain.

  That sudden fear aroused once again which had held me back from going home all these years.

  This boy will never come back to MY HOUSE… TO ME until I am alive, if he comes to my house, he will have to walk over my dead body. Let him come the day I die, to do away with my funeral. Appa had said.

  I will make sure that I come back to your dead body! Goodbye!

  Why did I have to say that? I could have apologized instead of striking back in that language, the language of our unbending egos.

  Should I go? Would Appa die the moment I step into the room where he is being kept? No! It’s impossible, I am just being paranoid. Superstition is what this is. I must not give away my mind to such unscientific and baseless fears. My leaving him has brought such a fate unto him. Only if I get back can I bring him back to normal. Why did I have to leave?

  ‘Damn it! Shit!’ I cried out loudly, and this sudden burst of emotion attracted everybody’s attention. All those people who were present around me gazed at me as if they had seen a madman. Indeed I was being a mad man from the inside. I sat on my briefcase. I pouched my right palm over my forehead to pinch my stress. My heart pounded faster, again!

  I started walking from there. I wanted to stay away from people at least till I got in the train. I wanted isolation. Strangers made me tenser. I reached the starting point of the platform. There lay a stone bench, lonely and misty in every sense of the world. This was the same bench where I had slept for months, all that time when I was struggling to find a break.

  Nostalgia.

  I moved towards the bench, I gently bent to touch the surface of the bench. It had grown coarser and dirtier than I had known. A small drop of saline water dropped on the dirty surface of the bench. Meanwhile, an announcement was made in the station, the train was to arrive in a few moments and before I could know it, it had arrived. It was time to leave. But everything was coming back to me.

  The big old Grand Trunk was tied to the Chennai Central railway station majestically. I checked the list that was pasted outside the train’s door. My seat was confirmed. Thanks to Martin and his friend. I stepped into the train with my briefcase. Briskly browsed through the seat numbers and finally found my seat. Seat no. 63, I had the side seat. Three teenagers and four bachelors were travelling with me in my coupe. There was a beautiful woman in the next coupe and almost everybody was interested in getting her to notice them. Her bodily features were full of oomph and ouch. She would give a tough competition to all those men when they try to sleep. But I was least interested, my mind was preoccupied.

  Fifteen minutes later, the train had started moving. I bid goodbye to the big city. The train had set on its next journey. Journey that will take me back to my dying father.

  Journey that will end it all.

  Journey, that will see me argue and fight it out against my own fears.

  A Journey of Hope.

  Thirty Five

  May 21 2011

  Somewhere in Southern India

  03:15 am

  Everyone in the coupe was fast asleep, some men were dreaming lustily about the bodily amusing middle-aged lady from the next coupe while others were simply asleep. All the lights were down inside the compartment, the only source of illumination were the passing track lights outside. I rose from my throne and slowly walked towards the washbasin located at the rear end of the compartment. I pressed the lid of the tap upwards. A stream of water poured down on my hands and rest of them hit the metallic sink. With my right hand, I gathered few ounces of water and splashed it on my dried up face. I repeated this process four times until I could feel my drowsiness fade aw
ay into the night’s darkness. I released the lid and the water flow stopped. I moved towards the door, pulled down the latch with my embarking right hand. My muscles almost tilted the axis of the latch. The door unlocked and I pulled it backwards as I rested my bottom on the door that had opened behind me.

  I looked outside, it was dark, the moon was hard to find among the school of dark clouds, but there was some whiteness at a spot. I recognized it as the lunar marvel trying to peep in through the clouds that had gulped it.

  As I dwelled upon the happenings of the past, both long unforgotten ones and the forgettable more recent ones, I produced a cigarette from my pocket and placed the filtered end in my mouth. I screwed the lighter and there was a spark, which went off in seconds, another try, and this time the lighter produced a bright flame that did not extinguish. I brought my face closer to the flame, there was the earthy smell of tobacco catching the first flames and soon the cigarette was ready for consumption. I turned off the lighter and placed it back in my pocket.

  ‘What if his words came alive?’ I thought as I puffed in a few vapors of tobacco.

  ‘Oh God! Please find way out, I do not want him to die! O Lord of Tirumalai, help me!’ I prayed.

  I exhaled a weave of smoke into the atmosphere. I looked at the K engraved on the wrist of my right hand.

  A tear fell from my eye.

  As the Sampark Kranti Express passed over Krishna Bridge, my heart passed through a bridge that separated hope from fear. Dawn was still awaiting its final call before the night could shed out every inch of its eerie darkness.

  There was some hope in the darkness, the hope of a bright dawn waiting on the other side.

  Moreover, all I needed was some more hope.

  Book 3

  When Strangers Meet

  Thirty Six

  May 22 2011

  Ghittorni Metro Station

  08:45 AM

  The fat man emotionally stared at the empty paper cup that he was holding in his plus-sized hand. He had sucked in the cappuccino an hour ago, but he did not throw away the cup, instead he kept holding onto it. Jai was yet to finish his cup of cappuccino. He had hardly made it half way through. He got so much involved in Iyer’s story that he totally forgot about the cup of cappuccino in his hands. Iyer held a pitiable expression on his bulky face and nodded his head in despair. He turned his head to Jai and began speaking, ‘All these years, I just exempted myself from believing that my father doesn’t care for me. However, the past two days created enough thoughts to countervail all those years of abrasive thinking. I inferred that I was a fool! A big fat fool!’

  ‘Wow! I… I still can’t believe it!’ Jai succumbed.

  ‘Believe what?’ Iyer asked.

  ‘Lots of instances from the story you narrated. However, the most impossible one was the tug of war against your Appa at that Muslim wedding. It is difficult for me to digest that incident.’

  ‘Why is it so difficult to digest?’

  ‘Come on! You do not look like somebody who would hit your own father! Your face looks quite innocent for that matter.’ Jai explained wanely.

  ‘What is written on a face?’ Iyer sighed thoughtfully, ‘Look at me! What was I and what have I become now?’ He handed a photo from his wallet. It was the same black and white passport sized photograph.

  Jai took the photo from Iyer. He observed the boy in the photo. He was young, handsome and in his late teenage years. ‘Is this you?’ He asked while marveling at the boy’s handsome facial features.

  ‘That was me!’ The fat man corrected Jai.

  Jai handed back the photo, ‘you were handsome then…’ he said as he tried to match the face in photo with the one in front of him, ‘You have changed a lot. It is natural, I guess!’

  Iyer sighed. ‘Can I ask you something?’ he asked hesitatingly.

  ‘Shoot!’

  ‘Would you do me a favor?’

  ‘Hmm…’ Jai thought for second and then agreed, ‘okay! But what is it?’

  Iyer pushed his right hand into his shirt’s pocket and pulled out a neatly folded white envelope. A flash of panderance passed over the dark skin of the fat man. He held it closer to his chest and started explaining, ‘This envelope contains all the money I could arrange. A cheque of five lakh rupees,’ He moved the envelope towards Jai, ‘Would you give this to my Amma. She’s at Medanta Medicity.’

  Jai was puzzled at this favor put forth by the Tamilian ‘But why can’t you…’

  ‘I am scared!’ Iyer interrupted, ‘What if those words came alive?’

  ‘What? What words?’ Jai recoiled in his seat.

  ‘Those parting words, I will make sure that I come back to your dead body! That is what I had said! My last words to Appa. All these years those words have haunted me keeping me from going back home.’

  ‘Are you crazy?’ He pounded heavily on the back of the seat.

  ‘I just do not want him to die, especially since he is in a critical stage!’

  ‘It is 2011 A.D; you cannot be so much superstitious! I mean, damn it! Give me a break!’ He exasperated at Iyer’s explanation.

  ‘I’m scared!’

  ‘You think that your father will die the moment you step in front of him? Just because of those stupid things the two of you said fifteen years ago?’

  Iyer nodded shamefully in agreement.

  ‘He is gonna die anyway! You know that? The only way you can save him is by getting that cheque in there! Do you get me?’ He held Iyer by the shoulders and shook him, ‘Do you get that?’

  ‘Please! Please! Do not force me! You just hand Amma this cheque leaf for my sake. I cannot go in there! It might sound like mere superstition to you, but I just don’t want to take any chances. Already I have staunched him a lot, got him this far.’

  ‘You are impossible!’

  ‘Just take this and hand it to Amma, please!’ Iyer requested the teenager.

  Jai sighed and accepted the envelope containing the cheque from Iyer, ‘All right! I will do this for you!’

  ‘Thanks da!’ he said gratefully.

  ‘But you will come with me to the hospital, right?’

  ‘Okay! But I won’t step inside the building.’

  ‘Sure!’

  ‘Do you know where it is? Medanta Medicity?’

  ‘Oh Yea! It is a famous place in this region, one of the best medical facilities available in the country.’

  ‘How far is it?’

  ‘It is in Gurgaon, will take about an hour from here.’

  Krishnaprasad Iyer got up from his seat and proceeded towards the door. Jai collected his bag and he realized that he had run away from home and probably his parents were looking for him all around the city with the cops. If he goes back to the city, He will get caught.

  ‘Hey Listen!’ Jai called Iyer.

  Iyer stopped and turned around, ‘what is it, boy?’

  Jai did not know how to put up his point in front of that man who had just narrated his life’s story in entirety without even caring to know the boy’s real name: if it were really John Abraham. The fat chap definitely needed Jay’s help and his problem was very genuine. Jay’s problem could be tackled if he sneaked out carefully. How hard would it be to dodge Gurgaon Police? Jai decided to go with the man and help him out. Grant his wish!

  Iyer was still waiting for Jai to speak. Finally, Jai dodged, ‘Please let me buy the tickets for us!’ He smiled.

  Iyer smiled back and opened the door and took exit. Jai followed, while going out of the room he felt a strange emptiness. He turned around. The Pathan was still there. Jai had got himself so engulfed in Iyer’s narration that he hardly noticed anyone else entering or leaving through that door. The bulky man smiled and led Jay’s way.

  Thirty Seven

  Jai and Iyer walked towards the ticket counter and Jai quickly purchased two tickets for Huda City Center. The woman at the counter produced a forceful smile as she threw two tokens through the small opening at the glass interface. She
stared at Jai for a moment as if she was trying to understand something that had crossed her. Jai felt weird. He started walking away. He turned around and she was still observing him carefully. She had begun to freak him out.

  ‘Weirdoes!’ Jai whispered into Iyer’s ear as they packed away from the counter.

  Few feet behind, the woman inside the ticket counter waved her head in suspiration.

  ‘Weirdo!’ She said to herself while observing Jai.

  The two started walking towards the security check. The station was still as empty as it was two hours ago. There was hardly any movement inside the station. Jai was the first one to go under the scanner. He came out clean, and then he was asked by the police officer to place his bag on the conveyor belt that would pass the bag through an X-ray machine. Security measures had been tightened up in all parts of the country especially in those places where the Indian Premier League games were being played. Delhi was one of those places, playing host to the Daredevils. Delhi Daredevils played Pune Warriors a day ago and today Chennai Superkings were scheduled to meet the Royal Challengers from Bengaluru. Jai was a diehard supporter of the Delhi based franchise. Jai wondered which team Iyer supported or if he watched cricket at all. A majority of middle aged and orthodox minded folks disliked the whole idea of clubbing the game of cricket this way. They thought it to be divisive.

  What the hell? This was entertainment, sport and edge of the seat excitement packed into a single deck.

  Jay’s bag came out of the scanner. He picked it up and loaded it on his back. Iyer was already waiting for Jai. Jai suspected if the security people had checked him at all.

  ‘Did they check you?’ he asked.

  ‘They were busy on their radio consoles!’

  ‘Yea right!’

  They stepped on the escalator that went upstairs to the platform. The train was already awaiting departure. They made it in time. As soon as they stepped inside the bombardier train, the doors closed automatically. There was an announcement and soon the train was in motion. The two took a seat near the door itself. The entire train was as good as empty.