“Grief! I feel no grief. Only anger. Hot, burning anger! Why did Guruji have to quit like that? It’s so unfair!” he snarled.
“Most people don’t know exactly when a heart attack is going to strike them!” Sonia said wryly.
“But he was not supposed to die of heart attack. He was ill! He had some more years before he needed to say a final goodbye to us! He had so much more to teach us! He was a storehouse of musical knowledge—precious knowledge which only he possessed. He had no right to leave without completing his task. I feel so betrayed! So lost, lonely! I loved him so much!”
“And yet you had arguments with him?” Sonia inserted gently.
For a second, Bishan looked startled. “Arguments are a part of every healthy relationship! I admit that I did things which angered him, but at least I wasn’t stupidly obedient like his favorite, Sumeet! And yet Guruji chose and trained him to take his place! Even though Kirit and I are equally good singers. Guruji was partial and it made me mad! I feel that he ought to have waited and observed, to see who would really flourish in the music world. Who would really make Gwalior Gharana proud and who would keep his name flying high! I would have! And I will, but now he won’t be here to see it! To see that his choice was wrong!”
Bishan glared out at the horizon.
His self-confidence surprised Sonia.
“Perhaps he will. Perhaps his soul is here somewhere, waiting to see who really does him proud,” she supplied softly.
Bishan stared at her with eyes bright with unshed tears.
His sobbing wouldn’t cease. Sumeet’s tears flowed with an intensity which touched Sonia’s heart. The young man’s face was blotched and swollen with grief, and he shut his eyes tight to block the tears, but they squeezed out from the corners.
“I can’t talk now, please leave me alone!” he sobbed.
Sonia and Jatin sat in chairs opposite him.
“You loved him a great deal, didn’t you?” she remarked. “Guruma told me.”
“Guruma…yes, I loved him like I would never love anyone else in my life. He was everything to me! Everything… All I know of life comes from him. And now he’s gone! I shall never see him again, never talk to him, never go to him for advice…Oh, what shall I do!” He clasped his hands over his face.
Sonia maintained a respectful silence, waiting until his sobs tapered into hiccups. Jatin poured a glass of water from a jug and handed it to him. Sumeet accepted the glass absently, sipping indifferently from it. At length, he brushed away his tears, sniffed, and glanced at them.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s all right,” Sonia cut in quickly. “We understand.”
“Life is strange. But death is stranger,” he murmured. “Here I am, grieving because my father is no more. But what about him? I must think of him. It was the best thing that could have happened to him. He was suffering so much! And his dear wish—to die while listening to music…His dearest wish came true! I should thank God for that! That he passed away peacefully, just as he desired. Do you think I’m making sense?” Sumeet asked Sonia eagerly.
“Yes, perfect sense. I think only the most fortunate people see their dying wish come true.”
“Thank you! You’ve made me feel so much better. Now I can live with the thought that Guruji is happy, wherever he is. He’s free from all suffering. He’s at peace.”
The tears began squeezing silently out of his eyes again, but Sumeet seemed composed. Noiselessly, Sonia and Jatin slipped from the room.
The sitting room was beautiful. Red brick walls with huge windows which allowed the sun and trees to peep in. A tambora took a prominent position on a divan. A polished wooden rocking armchair with a flat red cushion sat opposite a music system.
“My husband’s favourite relaxing room,” Mrs. Dharkar told them. “This armchair is forty years old, and this tambora older than that. Nothing will change in this room. The furniture, the memories…”
Sonia moved to the music system. It was a cassette-cum-CD-player. A CD was still inside. The volume level was set high, much above the red line.
“Is this the CD he was listening to when…”
“Oh yes. Nothing’s been touched. I’ve kept the room locked since…since last evening. That CD was a gift from Kirit, Bishan, and Sumeet. They recorded a raag—Raag Hameer, a raag of inspiration—in a professional studio and presented it to their Guruji yesterday, as a parting gift. What fate that he should pass away as he listened to his own creations!”
“Can I take the CD along with me?” Sonia asked.
The older woman nodded. “Take whatever you may need and speak to whomever you think necessary. You shall have a free run of the estate. Just help me find peace of mind! And after you finish with this room, please join me for tea in the dining room.”
“Oh, you don’t have to…”
“No, I insist.”
The widow left the room, her back bent with the weight in her heart. As if all the grief in this house was infectious. Sonia closed her eyes, soaking in the atmosphere. There was something about this room. Where Raujibua had died. Something melancholy. A peaceful feeling, though, rather than any violent nature of death. Sad, yes, but something…she couldn’t place a finger on the exact sensation. More like what Sumeet had said. End of a suffering…peaceful passing away…fulfilling…
She had started her investigation with the intention of satisfying Mrs. Dharkar’s whim, but after speaking to the three students, she was beginning to sense the undercurrents Raujibua’s wife had mentioned. Undercurrents of jealousy, certainly, but had any of it to do with Raujibua’s death?
Sonia opened her eyes and found Kirit watching her curiously.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Trying to figure out what Raujibua’s feelings towards each one of you really were.” Sonia rose.
“He cared for us, but it was Sumeet he loved. There’s not an iota of doubt about that! All of us, we loved him each in our own way. As for Bishan, he had his own warped style of expressing his love for our teacher as well as respect for Gwalior Gharana music!” The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that Bishan may claim to love music and his Guru, but his manner of exhibiting it was real strange! He did all those things that he had to abstain from during his training as a disciple of music. We are all supposed to quit smoking and drinking and absolutely no womanizing. Bishan followed each one of these vices with a regularity! Of course unknown to Guruji. Then we are supposed to do riyaz—vocal training—every dawn for at least three hours, and disciples of the Gwalior Gharana are expected to perform Shiva pooja—worship Lord Shiva. But, of course, our man Bishan had his own routine and his own deity of worship!”
“You sound very bitter!” Sonia observed.
“Do I? Then it’s the first time. I’ve stayed clear of Bishan for several weeks, but today, somehow, with Guruji gone, it’s difficult to stomach the fact that Bishan tricked him with his wild ways!”
“And Raujibua was unaware—”
“Until three days ago. Somehow he wised up to the situation. I’m not sure how, or who told him, but they had a massive showdown! I’m glad that Raujibua finally knew the truth about the kind of man Bishan really is.”
“And that satisfies your urge for justice?”
Kirit’s stance changed instantly. “Goodness, I hope I don’t sound as if I’m thrilled with Bishan’s fallout with Guruji! I didn’t mean it that way at all.”
“What did you mean?” Sonia asked, folding her arms.
Kirit seemed flustered. “Well, I feel that a disciple should perform all his duties. Do riyaz regularly and develop his own music. But Bishan seemed to get away with the cake in both hands! Had he been trained to take over Guruji’s place in the world of music, I think I would’ve personally warned Guruji of Bishan’s misbehaviour. Thankfully, it did not come to that!”
“No, because Sumeet was the chosen one!”
“Yes. To be very honest, though I was jealous initially, I do realize that I would’ve felt worse had it been Bishan that Guruji had chosen to succeed him. At least Sumeet deserved it. He is the perfect disciple and he served Guruji like none of us did. I tried hard, but somewhere along the line, I failed Guruji.” The wistful expression returned to his face.
A maid appeared in the doorway, requesting Sonia and Jatin to join Mrs. Dharkar in the dining room. Sonia turned to Kirit, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.
“We’ll surely meet again. Until then, bye!”
She noticed, as she and Jatin followed the sari-clad maid, that Kirit hadn’t moved from his place.
Mohnish was talking with the hostess when Sonia and Jatin joined them. Mrs. Dharkar gestured to the black-cushioned high-back chairs.
“Find anything useful?” Mrs. Dharkar asked anxiously.
“Too soon to pass an opinion,” Sonia answered honestly, not wishing to raise the lady’s hopes. “Though, I’m still probing.”
“Do that.” Mrs. Dharkar passed Sonia and Jatin tea in delicate ceramic golden cups.
Sonia sipped the tea thoughtfully. “Rimaji, my knowledge of classical music is really pathetic. Can you tell me what exactly is Gwalior Gharana?”
Mrs. Dharkar sighed. “My husband would’ve been the ideal person to answer your question, but I’ll tell you whatever I know. A Gharana literally means a dynasty, a family. A musical Gharana usually comes from the name of a particular city, like Jaipur, Kirana, Gwalior. Gwalior is a city in northern India. In the early eighteen hundreds, Daulatrao Shinde ruled over Gwalior and he appointed people as court musicians. They were looking for a new form of music. Niyamat Khan, a noted veena player, combined the then popular form of music called ‘kawali,’ ‘Tappa,’ and ‘Thumri,’ which projected the universal theme of love, with the pure classical base of music in the form called Dhrupad. Niyamat tried personification—personification of musical terms. For example, he used the word mukhada, which means a face, in explaining music. The face of a person is beautiful, so we recognize a beautiful musical piece by its mukhada. He tried to incorporate these terms in his new form of music. Daulatrao Shinde liked his music so much, he declared that it should be called Gwalior Gharana.
“Different Gharanas have different styles and their own philosophies and ideologies. And it is called a Gharana because it is actually a tradition of knowledge and philosophy and there are different schools of music. They are also very rigid. Musicians are known to say that they would rather give their daughter but not their bandish—composition!”
“And what about riyaz and Shiva pooja?”
“Raujibua was extremely strict about both. He was orthodox and pious and expected his students to follow the rituals, which maintained the purity of music. After bathing, you have to face the direction of the dawning sun in your wet clothes and sing in the base voice till the sun rises. It is said that is how you attain the power of the sun, which in turn helps to attain musical power. It is a very important part of the training. Not everyone can withstand the rigorous routine. You see, hundreds of students came to Raujibua with the hope of learning music. Only a select few ever entered the teacher-student pact.”
“A pact?”
“Raujibua tested the talent of the students and only those he approved were involved in the Ganda Bandhane ceremony. This is a big ceremony in which the Guru ties a thread to the wrist of the selected student and promises to teach him his music and the student promises in turn to learn sincerely. Kirit, Bishan, and Sumeet are all such students.”
“Now I understand. I’ve been wondering why only those three are staying on the estate,” Sonia remarked. “And who is the best singer of the three?”
“Definitely Sumeet! He has also been here much longer than the other two and is the oldest. But the other two are quite good, too. Bishan especially shows promise. Both he and Sumeet can sing the Kadak Bijlee ki Taan in a raag. A raag is a musical note pattern which regales the audience. And a taan—how can I explain what a taan means? It’s something to be experienced. Let me put it like this.” Mrs. Dharkar paused momentarily. “It is the caressing, expanding, winding, rocking back and forth, crescendo, and glissando, and stretching of notes within a raag. A Kadak Bijlee ki Taan—a sudden expression of intricate note patterns—is one such taan. Extremely difficult and only a maestro who has put in years of devoted riyaz can perform such a taan.”
“And Sumeet could sing this taan?”
“Yes, and so could Bishan. Though Raujibua was extremely proud of them, he had forbidden both of them to sing it, since it requires tremendous energy.”
“Thank you, I feel quite learned with all this information.” Sonia spoke sincerely. “Do you think I could read up some more on it? Do you have a book I can refer to?”
“Oh yes, our library is well stocked. After tea, I’ll give you a book that I like very much.”
“One last question, Rimaji. Have you any idea how Panditji’s will is placed?” Sonia asked hesitantly.
Mrs. Dharkar nodded. “My husband was very rich. Being a renowned artist, he made a lot of money. Some is tied up in charitable institutions, but the bulk has been left to me and, after me, to Vandana. He has also left sizable sums to Kirit, Sumeet, and Bishan, to get them started in life.”
Sonia took in this information thoughtfully. “But Bishan had a fallout with his Guruji. Did that not affect Raujibua’s will?”
“I think it did. In fact, he did mention that he wished to make changes in his will. But before he could implement them, he passed away.”
Jatin flashed his Boss a quick look. This piece of information had definitely aroused her interest.
“Can you give me that book now?” Sonia asked.
“Of course.”
They followed Mrs. Dharkar to the library. Low-roofed and long, it gave the impression of a cozy tunnel. Books lined the walls and thick rugs covered the stone slabs. Mrs. Dharkar riffled through the pile of books on the table, then, frowning, she turned to the shelves nearby, scanning the titles. Finally she extracted a book and handed it to Sonia.
“This will do for the time being. It’s very basic but provides sufficient knowledge. The book I was actually looking for is not here. Probably one of the boys has borrowed it.”
“There’s something else I need before I leave,” Sonia said, accepting the book. “Horoscopes of the family.”
“I know. I’ve kept them ready. Mohnish informed me and I’ve also heard how you work miracles with the horoscopes. I only hope you can work some marvel for me!” The lady sighed.
Sonia impulsively squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Rimaji, I can tell you this much: If there is any hanky-panky in this business, I won’t rest till I find out what it is!”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” Mrs. Dharkar responded with a satisfied smile.
The first day of November was cold. Overnight, the weather had changed and a chilly wave seemed to hit the city. After her morning meal, Nidhi hunted out sunny spots and settled down to warm herself up. She knew it was useless hanging around her Mistress inside the office this morning, when she was in such a mood. And when so much noise seemed to rock the whole earth! And anyway, her Mistress wouldn’t notice her missing, she was so busy caught up with bits of papers.
Jatin had similar thoughts. He felt less tolerant of the loud, blaring music which emanated out of Sonia’s office, which seemed to instigate her thought processes, but which definitely punctured his desire for peace! Thankfully, his Boss had assigned him work, and he was glad to get out of the office.
Unaware of the prejudiced thoughts of her colleagues, Sonia was blissfully dancing with the Beatles’ rock and roll. The song and music entered her brain like a drug, triggering her energy and thought levels, and finally, when the song ended, she felt as if she were walking on air! As the next number thundered, she turned to the horoscopes laid out on the table. Pandit Raujibua Dharkar, Mrs. Dharkar, and Vandana. And below, Kirit, Bi
shan, and Sumeet. Her eyes travelled along the horoscopes, gauging and calculating.
She had arrived at the office that morning with a fresh mind. She knew that she had to be absolutely impartial in this investigation. Since she was dealing with Mrs. Dharkar’s intuition and with doubts which could be totally unfounded, she had to be careful. Working with only feelings and no proof was tricky business. So far, the interactions with the dead man’s family had yielded nothing concrete. Sonia had found no reason to believe that anything was amiss in the Dharkar household. Petty jealousies were a part of life, specially those that sprouted from professional rivalry. It did not necessarily mean that any one of the members would attempt murder. Mrs. Dharkar had a strong feeling that someone had killed her husband. Which seemed almost ridiculous, considering he had died of heart attack—a most natural cause of death. But Sonia had learnt the hard way never to scoff at a person’s intuition. The human mind is a stronger force of reckoning than most give it credit. And she had promised herself never to ignore the warning, however remote or subtle, the heart and mind gave. She had every intention of considering Mrs. Dharkar’s suspicions with serious respect. She would try to pin down the remotest possibility of foul play. She had laid out the horoscopes, with a huge responsibility weighing on her shoulders.
But the dancing had changed something. She once again experienced the familiar tingle of thrill as she studied the natal charts. The edge of excitement sharpened. Her eyes fell straight on a very strange planetary position. She caught her breath and stared at two of the horoscopes. And then a third. She bent over them and scrutinized the combination of stars and planets and all her assumptions suddenly veered off-course. This was it! This had to be it! If she was right…The Beatles song continued in the background, and on an impulse Sonia rose and began dancing again. She felt a restlessness, a driving force to uncover the truth…. She had to find out if she was right!
The Astral Alibi Page 25
