Forget Me Not, Stranger

by Novoneel Chakraborty

  It’s farewell, Mini.

  Before she knew, Rivanah was already sweating in the air-conditioned floor of her office. Out of fear, she walked briskly to the boardroom again. She didn’t dare to turn and check if anyone was watching or following her. The moment she entered the boardroom, she heard people applauding. The session was finally over. She noticed Argho on the opposite side. He did look at her but Rivanah couldn’t guess if it was an intentional gaze or a casual one. Mr Bajaj and Mr Khanna walked out of the boardroom together. Everyone else started to file out too. Once the crowd became thin, she went towards the exit only to be stopped by someone.

  ‘You left these,’ the man said. He had few Ferrero Rochers in his hand. It was the same greenish-eyed man who had saved her in the elevator and once more in the backstairs. He had an amused expression on his face; he had obviously seen Rivanah stealing the other Ferrero Rochers from the plate.

  ‘I’m sorry. Actually, I can’t resist these,’ she said apologetically.

  ‘It’s okay. Stealing chocolates isn’t a crime.’ He flashed a smile and Rivanah’s mind buzzed with a new-crush alert. She took the chocolates from him.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said.

  The man turned and started walking away, when she stopped him saying, ‘Excuse me! I’m Rivanah Bannerjee.’ She extended her hand for a handshake.

  ‘Call me Nivan,’ he said and shook her hand with a firmnesss that evoked certain forbidden thoughts in Rivanah’s mind. Before she could follow him further to know which department he worked in, she remembered she had something more important waiting. Rivanah called Sadhu Ram, clicked a picture of the Word document on her screen, and sent it to him on WhatsApp as directed. He asked her to be extra alert.

  Rivanah was expecting a call from Sadhu Ram but it didn’t come. She left office early and took a cab home. She noticed a bike was always moving parallel to her cab. The rider whose head was hidden inside a mercury-coated helmet kept looking sideways. Rivanah’s heart was in her mouth. There was no prize for guessing who this rider could be. What if he attacked her? She rolled up the window of the cab and asked the driver to go faster, but it didn’t matter how fast he drove, the rider was always parallel to her. Did he come to know about the police guy following him? Rivanah was getting nervous with every passing second. She kept Sadhu Ram’s number open on her phone.

  Finally, at one of the traffic signals, the rider halted right next to Rivanah’s cab and climbed down the bike. Her heart almost stopped. She checked if the cab’s door was locked; it was. The rider came right up to the window and removed his helmet. It was Ekansh. For a moment, she didn’t know how to react. Next, out of rage, she rolled down the cab’s window. But before Rivanah could ask him why the hell he was stalking her like a fool, he said, ‘I have found a way to apologize to Tista.’

  Somehow he didn’t look like his former self.

  10

  ‘What the hell are you talking about, Ekansh?’ Rivanah said. Before she could get around to asking him why he was following her, the traffic light turned green. Vehicles behind them were honking, with drivers hurling abuses at them for holding up the traffic on a busy street. Ekansh wasn’t ready to go back to his bike. Rivanah didn’t know what to do, nor did the cab driver. He kept inching the cab ahead while Ekansh kept jogging alongside.

  ‘Ekansh!’ Rivanah rebuked, ‘Get your damn bike and meet me at the other side of the signal.’ To the driver she said, ‘Bhaiya, signal ke aage side kar dijiye.’

  The cab driver mentally abused Ekansh for cutting his drive short. Once he crossed the signal and parked the car, Rivanah paid the fare and got down. Ekansh by then had parked his bike right behind the cab. She went straight to him.

  ‘What’s your problem, Ekansh?’

  ‘Rivanah, I’m sorry,’ he said, removing his helmet once again.

  ‘Why are you doing this to me? We are done. Like done! Let’s not re-establish contact ever again.’

  ‘Can we please sit and talk?’

  ‘No! We can’t!’ Rivanah was furious. She looked around only to realize her pitch was loud enough to attract attention. Heads were turning in their direction. It made her uncomfortable.

  ‘Okay, let’s go,’ she said.

  She wanted to be done with this once and for all. Rivanah rode pillion as they headed to the nearest CCD outlet.

  ‘Tell me, what is it?’ Rivanah snapped, once Ekansh had placed his order.

  ‘Firstly, I’m sorry,’ Ekansh said.

  ‘Your sorry irritates me, Ekansh. You always say sorry but you are never really sorry. So please cut the crap and tell me why you were following me. You were saying something about Tista?’

  ‘I couldn’t sleep after Tista passed away. I felt restless all the time thinking that Tista knew what happened and I couldn’t even say sorry to her.’

  ‘Again sorry? Listen, you either come straight to the point or I’m out of here.’

  Ekansh understood that Rivanah was losing patience. ‘I won’t be able to live in peace if I don’t apologize to her.’

  Rivanah stared at Ekansh like he had lost it completely. ‘Didn’t Tista die in front of both of us?’

  Ekansh nodded.

  ‘Then what is this “I want to apologize to her” bullshit?’

  ‘Planchette.’

  ‘What?’ Her disbelief pushed her to reconfirm with him.

  ‘I will call upon her soul and apologize.’

  She knew what a planchette was. Once or twice during college, some friends had talked about it eagerly, but nobody had ever tried it. Rivanah didn’t even know if it was real. Can souls be really recalled? Rivanah knew she couldn’t be a part of this nonsense.

  ‘Ekansh, I can’t help you in this, and please don’t follow me or try to contact me again. I’m sorry for whatever happened with Tista, I really am, but I too have a life. Let me live it peacefully,’ she said and started to walk away.

  ‘Don’t you want to apologize to Tista too?’ he asked. His high pitch made the other customers look at them with curiosity. She gave him a you-are-incorrigible look and stormed out.

  Rivanah knew she was being rude but she didn’t care. To cut all ties, one had to be rude at times. She had already tried it the other way and it hadn’t worked.

  Once Rivanah reached home, she called Danny. He didn’t answer but a minute later messaged that he was in a meeting and would call back right after it ended. Loneliness brought the memory of Tista. Her face started flashing in front of Rivanah along with Ekansh’s last words to her: Don’t you want to apologize too? Ekansh’s guilt was spreading its roots deep in her as well. She had chosen to ignore it, Ekansh hadn’t. But now, after meeting him, she was forced to pay attention to it. And who was responsible for this guilt? Who had told Tista about the unplanned ‘escapade’ between Ekansh and her?

  Rivanah called up Sadhu Ram. ‘Sadhu Ramji, any news yet?’

  ‘Just been two hours. As of now, nothing. Argho Chowdhury lives in Andheri East. I’m right outside his building.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I shall let you know if I get anything.’

  ‘Okay, thank you.’

  Rivanah thought of messaging the Stranger; it didn’t matter to her then if it was Argho. He owed her an explanation as to why he had told Tista and made everyone’s life miserable. Including the one who was dead.

  Why did you tell Tista the truth? Rivanah tapped her phone hard to write the message and sent it to all the numbers she had saved of the Stranger.

  Why didn’t you tell Danny the truth? came the Stranger’s reply. Rivanah frowned, reading the message, and dialled the number from which she had received it, pressing her phone against her ears.

  ‘Hello, Mini,’ the Stranger said in a male voice.

  ‘Get this right: I will not tell Danny the truth, okay?’

  ‘Then I will,’ the Stranger replied in a poised manner.

  ‘You will not!’ Rivanah brought the phone in front of her mouth and almost s
creamed at it.

  ‘I sure will.’ The tone remained unaffected.

  A few seconds of silence later, Rivanah added, ‘Please. I beg you. I’m done with Ekansh. Telling Danny the truth may not go well. I just don’t want to take a chance.’

  ‘If you don’t take a chance, you will never know how true your love is.’

  ‘I already know how true our love is, so please spare me.’

  ‘You have no idea, Mini, how much these assumptions of yours excite me to prove you otherwise.’

  Rivanah swallowed a lump.

  ‘You are simply impossible,’ she said and hung up.

  The next second the Stranger messaged back: Guilty as charged. A pissed-off Rivanah put her phone away and opened her laptop to distract herself. There was no way she was going to tell Danny about what had happened between Ekansh and her. Definitely not now, when everything was back on track between Danny and her. She was about to log in to her Facebook when another message popped up on her phone.

  Please!

  It was a WhatsApp from Ekansh. Rivanah didn’t care to reply. She put her phone on silent mode and continued logging on to Facebook. She checked her phone again. There was a missed call from Ekansh. This guy has turned nuts! Does he really think I will help him with . . . what was the word . . . planchette? She wondered and, after a thoughtful moment, typed the word on Google. For the next one hour, Rivanah read whatever Google had to offer on planchette. And most of them were real life incidents—or so the articles claimed. There was one particular article which piqued her interest the most. It said that a planchette was done by a group of relatives to connect with the spirit of a person who was murdered. And they claimed that through planchette they identified who the murderer was. It sounded like a television script but it intrigued her. Could it be true? If yes, then all her problems would end in one go. Was it worth a try? What will she lose even if it’s a bluff? Rivanah picked up her phone and stared at Ekansh’s name for some time before finally dialling his number. He answered on the second ring itself.

  ‘Hi. I knew you would call.’

  She ignored the comment and came straight to the point.

  ‘I shall help you communicate with Tista, but I have a condition.’

  ‘What condition?’

  ‘You too will have to help me communicate with someone.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Hiya Chowdhury.’

  11

  The plan seemed perfect. Rivanah would go to Ekansh’s place right after office. And together they would call upon the spirit of Tista first and then Hiya through planchette, and help each other get rid of their personal burdens. Ekansh wanted to apologize while Rivanah wanted to ask Hiya who her killer was. Ekansh enquired why she wanted to know who killed Hiya when the entire college knew she committed suicide; Rivanah simply put forward her second condition: no questions. But she didn’t let Ekansh go without asking him a few questions of her own.

  ‘Was Hiya my friend?’ she asked.

  ‘She was your batchmate. The topper.’

  ‘What else do you know about Hiya and me?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Just answer me, Ekansh.’

  ‘Nothing more. But why are you asking me? Whatever I know, you too should know, right? In fact, you would know more since she was your batchmate, not mine.’

  Rivanah didn’t answer. Now, standing by the window of her bedroom, she wondered how she could answer something she didn’t remember about herself.

  Danny called for her attention.

  ‘Can we go for dinner tomorrow night? Maybe I’ll get free early,’ he said, sipping on green tea while phone-browsing.

  ‘Sure, we can.’ She didn’t want to refuse now and raise an alarm. But she knew that she would have to call Danny after work and, on the pretext of an important meeting, go straight to Ekansh’s place to finish the chapter of the Stranger’s identity once and for all. Then she would come back to be with Danny. Forever. Forever: the root of all flowery assumptions in a love story, she thought and knew no one could severe oneself from this concept since it is forever that makes the fight for love worth it. Somewhere, the fact that she was ready to remain committed to Danny forever helped her justify her lie to him. And what was the truth anyway? That Ekansh and she had fucked that night in the flat? It was one of those random slips which . . . Rivanah checked her thoughts . . . well, it wasn’t a random slip. Such vulnerability towards someone happens when that someone defines almost the whole of your past. And more often than not, it is a permanent vulnerability. After all, time isn’t a strong-enough detergent to wash off certain spots of memories.

  The planchette though, Rivanah thought, was her best bet to clean up her life once and for all. First, she wouldn’t meet Ekansh ever again after this, and second, she would know who the Stranger is since she was sure he was the one who had killed Hiya. She would then move on with Danny to happier and less-confusing times.

  The next day Rivanah went to her office on time. Seeing Argho reminded her that she had received no intimation from Sadhu Ram. She wanted to call him but stopped herself, deciding it was better to give Sadhu Ram his own time. Not like he would hold on to information. Tonight something would anyway come up. Only nine hours remained before they dabbled in planchette.

  In the afternoon, she received a message from Ekansh asking if their plan was still on. She wanted to clarify that it was his plan, and that she was only helping him, but sent a dry ‘yes’ instead. She didn’t want to give him any signal to lurch on to and initiate something which may progress into anything even remotely close to a relationship.

  After work, Rivanah called Danny and told him she had a meeting and wouldn’t be able to join him for dinner. But she promised she would prepare his favourite dish the moment she was home. Danny said he would wait. Rivanah took a cab and rushed to Ekansh’s place. He was putting up at an out-of-town friend’s place in Santa Cruz.

  Ekansh opened the door before Rivanah could press the doorbell.

  ‘I saw you coming into the building,’ Ekansh said. She gave him a tight smile noticing his dark circles were more pronounced than ever but chose not to comment. He looked desperate. She didn’t know what weighed on him more—Tista’s death or his guilt. Did our break up ever weigh on him? Rivanah thought and stepped into the rather tiny flat.

  ‘You want to drink some water?’ he said.

  ‘Let’s go through this quickly, please.’

  Ekansh looked at her and nodded.

  ‘I have arranged everything. Come on in,’ he said.

  After a slight hesitation she followed him inside. It was a small, dimly lit bedroom with no furniture. A rolled-up mattress lay in one corner. In the middle of the room, she noticed, was the Ouija board used for planchette, as Google had told her a day back. It was an ancient portal to connect to the dead. Till that moment, she had been eager, but now, as she saw the Ouija board, she felt scared. Would Tista’s and Hiya’s spirit actually come to them? Her throat went bone dry.

  ‘I need some water,’ she told Ekansh. He was busy placing a candle at each corner of the Ouija board.

  ‘Sure.’ He stood up and went out of the bedroom. Rivanah came forward and knelt down to notice a coin at the centre of the board. There was a sound and Rivanah’s heart was in her mouth. She turned to see Ekansh bringing her a glass of water.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He realized he had petrified Rivanah.

  ‘It’s okay.’ It was not. She nervously took the glass of water from him and gulped it down in one go.

  ‘So how do we go about it?’

  Ekansh kept the glass away and sat down beside the Ouija board. He took a deep breath and said, ‘We both sit opposite each other.’

  Rivanah sat down right opposite Ekansh. He brought one of the corner candles and put it at the centre of the board and said, ‘We need to put our index fingers on the coin.’ He put his finger on it. Rivanah followed. He stretched his hand saying, ‘We must hold our hands.’

&n
bsp; Rivanah wasn’t sure.

  ‘It’s important, Rivanah.’

  Reluctantly she stretched her hand. Ekansh clasped it.

  ‘We need to close our eyes and call upon whom we want to first.’

  ‘Tista.’ Rivanah wanted to say Hiya’s name first but the hair on her nape had stood up at the thought of it.

  ‘We need to call Tista to our mind with utmost attention and focus.’

  ‘How will we know she is here?’

  ‘This candle will extinguish on its own,’ he said, glancing at the candle in the centre.

  On its own . . . the thought made Rivanah’s tension rise up, shortening her breaths.

  ‘And with these letters and numbers, we can interact with her,’ Ekansh said, gesturing at the Ouija board. Rivanah swallowed a lump. How can Ekansh be so cool about all this? she thought. He looked like he dealt with spirits on a regular basis. Perhaps he was more concerned about his apology than anything else. Typically selfish Ekansh, Rivanah concluded.

  ‘Let’s close our eyes and start chanting her name,’ he said and closed his eyes. Rivanah too closed her eyes and together in their minds they started chanting Tista’s name. Rivanah started having flashes of all the good times she had spent with Tista, especially that scene with her questioning eyes, as she looked at her before going in for the surgery. She could never forget those eyes. They had an accusation in them, as if her trust had been breached. And rightly so. Had she not let the sexual slip happen with Ekansh that evening in the flat then . . . Rivanah felt Ekansh’s grasp tighten. On an impulse, she opened her eyes and found him staring at the candle. Its flame had died. Rivanah could hear her own heart beating. Her body was mildly shivering. Was it real? Was Tista’s spirit in the room? Suddenly she felt a haunting energy in the room. It freaked her out.

  ‘Tista, are you there?’ Ekansh spoke up. He sounded brittle. Rivanah didn’t move. She only kept moving her eye balls from right to left, scared to see an apparition. She suddenly felt Ekansh pushing her finger which was on the coin. And before she could even fight it, the coin was already moved to the right, to the space in the Ouija board marked ‘yes’. One glance at Ekansh and she knew he wasn’t pushing the coin at will. Or was he? There was something eerie in the air and Rivanah felt she couldn’t breathe any more. Her hands and legs felt heavy and muscles stiff.