Banquet on the Dead

by Sharath Komarraju

  Praveen pursed his lips as though giving the matter some thought, but snapped out of it and shook his head vehemently. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t believe it. Grandmother killed herself. Nobody killed her.’

  Hamid Pasha smiled at Praveen, and Nagarajan felt he could see compassion in his eyes. ‘All I am saying, my boy, is think it over. The world is not as good as it seems.’

  ‘No,’ said Praveen. ‘I know my brother. He wouldn’t do it.’

  And into the silence that settled on the three of them, the final bell of Vijaya Talkies, signifying the end of the evening show, rang, and Nagarajan heard Shankar’s gas burners come to life downstairs, no doubt in anticipation of the crowd that would soon fill the street.

  ‘Come,’ said Hamid Pasha, jumping off the table and smelling the air, ‘let us have some samosas!’

  17

  GIVEN BELOW ARE the transcripts taken from the voice-recordings of testimonies given by witnesses Nagesh and Ashok (last names unknown), reproduced with the permission of Inspector Valmiki Nagarajan, Inspector, Hanamkonda Branch.

  QUESTION: Name and address for the record.

  ANSWER: Nagesh. I live behind Andhra Bank, sir, near Kothur Flag.

  QUESTION: When were you given the job of planting sprouts outside Kauvery Nilayam?

  ANSWER: 11th October, sir. My father told me that he got a call from Swami saab, and that he wanted me to go and do the work for them.

  QUESTION: When was the work planned for?’

  ANSWER: 13th October, sir. I was there in the morning up until mid-afternoon, you could say.

  QUESTION: Time?

  ANSWER: Ten in the morning to two-thirty in the afternoon, sir, or thereabouts.

  QUESTION: Tell us what you heard.

  ANSWER: I was doing my work, sir. I had levelled the ground, put some manure in it, dug it up nice and loose, watered it... it is very important that it is watered well before anything is planted, sir. As it is, the ground near Kakaji colony is very dry and hard. By around one, sir, I think I was finished with the initial work and I was ready to plant the sprouts. I had just opened the packet of sprouts, when and I heard the cry, sir.

  QUESTION: Describe what you heard.

  ANSWER: It was not a full-throated cry, sir. It was more like a whimper—like the lady was not sure whether to cry out loudly or not; you know? I know that sounds stupid, but that is what I felt when I was thinking over it that night, sir. If the lady was really dying, why did she not cry out loudly? Anyway, she only said one word. ‘Swami.’

  QUESTION: And you took that to mean...?

  ANSWER: Swami saab, of course. Maybe because it was not a loud cry, I did not think much of it.

  QUESTION: To whom did the voice belong?

  ANSWER: Kauveramma, sir.

  QUESTION: No doubt about that?

  ANSWER: No, sir. I have heard the old lady many, many times. I could not mistake her voice.

  QUESTION: Not even when she was yelling?

  ANSWER: No, sir, not even when she was yelling. Besides, she was the only one in the house who called Swami saab by his name, sir.

  QUESTION: Go on. What happened next?

  ANSWER: I heard a splash, sir, exactly two seconds later.

  QUESTION: How are you sure that it was two seconds?

  ANSWER: (After a pause) It seemed like two seconds, sir. I cannot be sure, of course.

  QUESTION: Then perhaps if you are not sure, you should not say ‘exactly’ two seconds?

  ANSWER: (Shamefaced) Yes, sir, you are right. I heard a splash around two seconds later. It was a decent-sized splash, like you would hear when a person jumps in.

  QUESTION: And that sort of thing is common in the household, a splash in the well in the middle of the day?

  ANSWER: It used to be, sir, when they used to swim in the well. But nowadays nobody does, so it was not a very common thing, no, sir. I was quite surprised to hear the splash, if you ask me; especially because of the cry that came before it.

  QUESTION: You found it surprising, and still you did not go investigate?

  ANSWER: The gate was locked, sir.

  QUESTION: Could you not have called to someone to open it for you?

  ANSWER: I looked, sir. I could not find anybody around.

  QUESTION: Did the idea of climbing over the gate not occur to you?

  ANSWER: It did, sir. But I did not think it would be a good idea. Kauveramma once accused me of lifting some items from her house, sir. I remembered it and decided it was not worth it. Besides, as I said, the cry was not very loud, sir, and everything seemed okay after the splash, so I went right back to work.

  QUESTION: When did you find out about the lady’s death?

  ANSWER: That evening, sir, when Swami saab sent for me.

  QUESTION: Did you feel then that it would have been better if you had jumped the gate?

  ANSWER: Oh, sir, of course sir.

  QUESTION: Go on. What happened after the splash?

  ANSWER: After the splash, sir? Nothing much; I finished my work, and just as I was about to pack up—I was giving the whole thing another dose of water—Gauri came out of the side-gate and walked away down the path.

  QUESTION: What time was this?

  ANSWER: I looked at my watch just before I saw her, sir. It was two-thirty. And I looked towards the gate because Ellayya had come there, calling after her. But Gauri just walked on without looking back. He was drunk, sir. I told him to go inside and sleep.

  QUESTION: Do you know both Gauri and Ellayya well by sight?

  ANSWER: Ellayya better than Gauri, sir, but yes, I do know both of them by sight. Gets drunk as a fish, does Ellayya. Never cares about what time of the day it is. If you ask me, sir, there is always a time for everything. He doesn’t know that. I don’t know how Gauri puts up with him. He is a lucky man, Ellayya.

  QUESTION: Did Gauri acknowledge your presence in any way?

  ANSWER: No, sir. She never does. She covers her head when I am around. It was so that day too. And I was by the wall, sir, watering the plants. I only saw her when she walked past me behind me—I heard her anklets, you know—and then of course Ellayya was there, calling after her. By the time I turned around she was gone.

  QUESTION: Did you wait until she came back?

  ANSWER: Oh, no, sir. I finished my job and I was gone.

  QUESTION: What time was that?

  ANSWER: I did not stay for longer than ten minutes after that, sir. So I would say by two-forty, at the most, I was gone from there.

  QUESTION: And you went straight home?

  ANSWER: (After a pause) As I said, sir, there is always a time for a glass or two. I stopped by at Sona Wines on the way back. But from there I went straight home, sir.

  QUESTION: By what time were you home?

  ANSWER: I would say four-thirty, sir. If you want the exact time you’d better ask my wife, sir. She will know.

  QUESTION: And you got the call from Swami saab at...?

  ANSWER: Seven, I would say. I was just growing drowsy, you know. But when the guy told me the old lady was dead, I was instantly alert. I sat up—like that old toy they used to sell with a tail to pull. It was like somebody had pulled my tail, sir.

  QUESTION: Do you have anything to add?

  ANSWER: Sir?

  QUESTION: Anything to add—anything that you noticed that felt out of place, anything that you feel would have a bearing on the matter? Maybe something you did not notice then but later on, on thinking of it, you felt was not quite right?

  ANSWER: (Long pause) No, sir, I cannot think of anything.

  QUESTION: If you do, come and let me know.

  ANSWER: Certainly, sir.

  QUESTION: Go and tell Ashok to come in.

  ANSWER: Okay, sir, thank you, sir.

  QUESTION: Name and address for the record.

  ANSWER: Ashok, sir. House number 3-10-28, Reddy Colony, opposite Post Office.

  QUESTION: When were you given the job for the compound wall at Kauvery Nilaya
m?

  ANSWER: (Long pause) I do not remember the date, sir. Must have been the 10th of this month. It was not very long notice; that much I know. I remember telling my father they should pay us extra. We are not their dogs, I told him, to go wagging our tails whenever he calls us.

  QUESTION: ‘He’ being Swami saab?

  ANSWER: Yes, sir. One day he tells us there is no need for any work on the wall, and a week later he comes and tells my father to send me out in two days to finish it. And I am thinking, ‘Man, decide!’ You know what I mean?

  QUESTION: When was the work planned for?

  ANSWER: 13th October, sir. The same day the old lady went over.

  QUESTION: What time did you hear the splash and the scream?

  ANSWER: It was not a scream, sir. It was more like someone who was having second thoughts about screaming. You know? It was almost as if the lady was thinking, ‘Should I be screaming now or not?’ It was—it was—a question, almost. And then, of course, there was a splash. It was five minutes past one, sir.

  QUESTION: Did that not make you suspicious or curious?

  ANSWER: (Pause) I took a walk up to the main gate and tried it, sir. But it was locked. These people lock their gates at all times, you know. Stupid, if you ask me. Paranoid! But I suppose that is what makes rich people rich, huh?

  QUESTION: What happened when you went to the gate?

  ANSWER: Nothing, sir. I stood there listening for a while, but there was nothing. So I thought everything must be okay and went back to work. I figured someone from the family fancied an afternoon swim.

  QUESTION: You did not consider jumping the gate or the wall?

  ANSWER: Ha, no, sir. Only a fool would jump the gate at Swami saab’s house. I got into a lot of trouble last time I tried doing so. There was no way I was going to do it again. Even if you mean no harm, sir, they make you pay for it, they do. Paranoid, I tell you. Makes you wonder what they have got hiding in their house, doesn’t it?

  QUESTION: How long were you there?

  ANSWER: I was there until two, sir. I’d packed up all my things by then and was getting ready to go. I had to be in time for the matinee show at Ashoka Talkies, sir.

  QUESTION: And you saw nothing else in that one hour?

  ANSWER: Oh, I did, sir. I did. Venkataram Sir came out and talked to me for a bit—about nothing important, sir. He asked me what I was doing and I told him. It is always good to have someone to talk to when you work, sir.

  QUESTION: Anyone else?

  ANSWER: Just when I was leaving I saw Gauri emerge from the path which led to the side-gate. She came out and she walked away from me.

  QUESTION: Can you—describe her?

  ANSWER: Well, sir, she was Gauri. If you know Gauri and I know Gauri, what is the need to describe her? Dark, short, walked with that little twist of her hips with each step. You know. And she had her pallu over her head.

  QUESTION: You are sure she was Gauri.

  ANSWER: Oh, yes, sir. No one in the house is that dark, and no one walks with that twist in her hips. She was Gauri all right. The sun was not out that day, though, so I wonder why she had the sari covering her head, but yes, she was Gauri. For sure.

  QUESTION: She could not have been, say, her sister?

  ANSWER: (Pause) But her sister was not here on that day, was she, sir?

  QUESTION: We don’t know. I am asking you if that was possible.

  ANSWER: (Another pause) It is possible. But her sister has not been here for close to two months now, sir. So I don’t think it was her. And if it was not Gauri’s sister, it had to be Gauri, no question about that.

  QUESTION: You said she came out of the side-gate and walked away. You were working near the main gate, were you not?

  ANSWER: A little further up from the main gate along the wall, sir, but yes, closer to the main gate than to the path.

  QUESTION: So you must have been a good twenty or so metres from the place.

  ANSWER: Yes, but as I said, sir, I know Gauri well. It is hard not to recognise her in these parts. She looks unlike anyone else in the house. It had to be her.

  QUESTION: What else did you see?

  ANSWER: Nothing, sir. I got on my bicycle and rode off to Ashoka. I was getting late for my show, sir.

  QUESTION: When in the evening did you come to know about the death?

  ANSWER: Around six, sir. I had just come home and washed my hands and feet. One of Doctor saab’s compounders came to tell me I was wanted at the old lady’s house.

  QUESTION: Do you have anything to add?

  ANSWER: No, sir.

  QUESTION: Anything you think you have missed out?

  Anything you think will have a bearing on the incident?

  ANSWER: No, sir.

  QUESTION: Thank you, Nagesh. You may go now. I will call for you if I need you.

  ANSWER: Yes, sir.

  Hamid Pasha closed the booklet. With a delicate forefinger and thumb he removed his reading glasses and put them back into their case. Then he closed his eyes and threw his head back against the chair’s back-rest. The dry air from the fan hit him full in the face. He opened his mouth, licked his parched lips with his tongue, and sighed deeply.

  ‘Begum,’ he said.

  There was no reply. He heard the blade of the vegetable knife hit the wooden board again and again. He heard the water run in the sink. The door of the fridge opened and closed every now and then. A steel vessel clanged against the granite top; and the mixer sprung to life for a minute before sputtering back to silence.

  All these suggested that she was there. So Hamid Pasha cleared his throat and called out, ‘Begum.’

  ‘Haanji?’ she said.

  ‘Are you listening?’ he said. The cacophony of activity continued from the kitchen.

  ‘Haanji,’ she said.

  ‘I do not know...’ said Hamid Pasha, and when he said those words he involuntarily grimaced, for he hated saying those words about anything to anyone, least of all to his wife, and least of all about a case he was dealing with. But circumstances were such. ‘I do not know where I am,’ he said, ‘or where I am going’. On receiving no answer he said, ‘Begum?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘There is neither head nor tail to this story, begum. Did the old lady die because she forgot to take her glasses with her and therefore took the wrong path to the well? Or did she die because she was filled with misery at her failure to build a happy family? Or did one of them kill her?

  ‘I think she was killed, begum, but perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps it is because I look for the worst in men that I think one of them had to have killed her. But it is not that, begum. There are things that do not make sense—they do not fit!’

  ‘Haanji.’

  ‘The glasses—they do not fit. The hands, the servantgirl’s sister—they do not fit. The people working at the gates do not fit. The chlorine bags and the bloodied water—they do not fit. Lakshman telling us that Praveen could have scaled the wall—does that fit? Then we go and find Praveen is going to kill himself because he thinks he is responsible for his grandmother’s “suicide”. Does that fit anywhere? It does not.

  ‘Durga and Gauri have a meeting by the well in the afternoon. There is another man in Durga’s life. Swami saab has his hands full with the communists next door. Raja saab wants money to watch movies and buy cigarettes. Karuna—what does Karuna Mayi want? Why is she here if she wants nothing and hates everything? No, she wants something too. I wonder what that is...

  ‘But Swami saab has an alibi. So does Karuna Mayi. The former slept through the whole afternoon. The latter only arrived in the evening from Hyderabad. Ah, Hyderabad— what was that other link with Hyderabad in Praveen’s story? Yes, Kalanjali school of dance and arts. Has that got anything to do with any of this? Or is it just one of those stray pieces of data that do not mean anything? How am I to know? How am I to know, begum?’

  ‘Zara aake pyaaz kaatiye,’ the begum said.

  Hamid Pasha lumbered to his feet and went
into the kitchen. He took a knife in his right hand and stared down at the blade. ‘So easy it is to kill someone with this, begum,’ he said, ‘and yet people go to the trouble of pushing some unfortunate soul into a well’.

  ‘Haanji.’ A basket of onions was pushed in his direction.

  Hamid Pasha took one, peeled it and sliced it in half. ‘Gauri’s sister,’ he murmured, while his hands went through the motions of cutting. ‘Venkataramana was sure that it was Gauri’s sister he saw that day, but everybody else in the house thinks it was Gauri. Even Nagesh and Ashok claim it was Gauri. Should I ask Gauri to back them up? But her own words will not work either way. She could be lying.

  ‘And Venkataramana could be mistaken. The man is the kind who literally sleeps the whole day. Who can take him at his word? Or are all the others mistaken? Is it possible, then, that the lady with her head covered was not Gauri?’

  ‘Haanji.’

  ‘But she had to be Gauri. Gauri’s own story corroborates it; so does Kamala’s and Lakshman’s. It must have been Gauri who walked up and own the path; but for some reason she had her pallu down on her shoulders when she walked up, and over her head when she walked back.

  ‘But even there I am not sure; Kamala says her head was bare. Lakshman says the head was covered. Gauri does not remember either way. I do not know even this simple fact, begum. Not even this simple fact!’

  ‘Haanji.’

  ‘And still,’ said Hamid Pasha, gathering the tiny diced pieces of onion and dropping them into the bowl next to him, ‘I keep coming back to hands.’ He sniffed, and his eyes blinked against the burning. ‘Ah, begum,’ he said, ‘you could have asked me to cut brinjals, boiled eggs, anything but onions!’