Why should I believe you? Maya looked back up at the guru again. ‘Please think back to the stories of trouble Sylvie might have taken to you. Given that you’re from Tibet, I’d imagine, Sylvie would have expressed her feelings of distress about the condition of her motherland.’
‘I mourn the loss of Sylvie.’ The guru’s voice was drenched with sadness. ‘And I see what you’re going through, but we rarely discussed our country of origin.’
‘Does your discipline advocate taking one’s own life, even for a just cause?’
The angry voice of Samuel came from behind. ‘Take care how you speak to our master.’
Eyes moist, the guru replied, ‘No, we don’t advocate any such thing.’
Maya twitched in her seat, a stool without any support for her back. Would Samuel try to throw her out if she asked more probing questions? She drew in a deep breath and decided to take the risk.
‘You said you didn’t discuss Tibet with Sylvie. Please think again. Her zeal … well, that seemed to have come out of the blue. It surprised Ivan as well. How would you explain her sudden advocacy for her old country?’
A slight ripple became evident underneath the guru’s calm voice. ‘The issue of Tibet wasn’t foremost in Sylvie’s mind, if it was in her mind at all.’
‘But … but … at the immolation she must have been thinking of you. She carried lilies.’
The guru sat with his palms open, showing no sign of tension or duplicity, only signaling his willingness for more discussion. Still, Maya had a hard time swallowing the answers he and his assistant had supplied so far.
‘What you’ve been led to believe is wrong.’ Now Samuel joined in the conversation. ‘We didn’t know about the self-immolation until after it had happened. Why did she carry lilies? Beats me.’
Although his words lashed at her back, Maya again ignored Samuel and asked the guru, ‘Are you suggesting there were complications in Sylvie’s life that nobody but you were aware of?’
‘Yes. I might have been the only one privy to them. As you know, secrets are like jewels. You must protect them.’
A gentle breeze blew in through the window. Several candle flames fluttered; one died. Samuel got to his feet, knelt before the platform, pulled a matchbox from his pocket and relit the candle, which flared with double intensity. Only then did Samuel reclaim his stool, his expression one of agitation.
‘Sylvie’s dead,’ Maya plunged on. ‘Could you share her secrets with me?’
The guru shut his eyes. Instantly, his eyelids relaxed, two domes bathed in a gentle light, and he became still. Was he channeling Sylvie and asking for her permission? Where did he have to transport himself to for that? Maya, never having witnessed any channeling firsthand, wondered if it was a tool for manipulation or some sort of con artistry.
Her gaze descended on Samuel. He, too, had his eyes shut, seemingly in a trance-like state. Both faces looked smooth and blissful, whereas she experienced turmoil within.
The guru snapped his eyes open and said in a warm, level voice, ‘You’re still here, Maya, as I thought you might be. You still want your answer, stubborn girl. OK, here it is. Sylvie came to visit me every now and then. One of the last times she came because … brace yourself … she’d strangled her beloved kitten with her bare hands.’
Maya’s eyebrows rose; her throat closed in on her. She could so easily imagine pet-loving Sylvie curled up in a chair. She could see the kitten, Augustine, flowing from a corner, purring and rubbing her head against Sylvie’s legs, then jumping up to the cushion of her lap. Sylvie would hold her and stroke her, she would never … could never … Maya tried to imagine Sylvie’s slender arm stiffening as she reached for Augustine’s neck … Impossible.
Maya shook her head. ‘Sylvie was a cat person; she bonded with all cats.’
The guru’s expression became keen. ‘Much as she was a cat lover, she felt like doing it. That’s how she put it. It was in her mind constantly. A monster standing before her and ordering, “Do it, do it, do it, do it now.” She had to obey it. Although she hid the evidence from everyone, insisting the kitten had been killed by a hit-and-run driver, she found she couldn’t lie to herself. Day and night, it tore away at her insides. She couldn’t eat, sleep or do her lab work. Before long she dropped out of the meditation classes. We didn’t see her for a while. She came back once or twice. She looked worse.’
‘Sylvie had meditated regularly for a long period. One would expect such a practice to get her back to—’
‘No doubt the effect of meditation spills over and makes us happier, calmer and wiser overall, but the practice alone can’t save us from our shadow selves or memories of acts we’ve committed in the past, dear girl. We’re still individuals responsible for our actions. There’s no avoiding karma, no escaping the consequences of our thoughts, actions or beliefs, whether or not we meditate.’ The guru paused, as though for emphasis. ‘The poor girl had become dangerously delusional. She actually believed she’d be able to bring her cat back to life. She came to see me because she couldn’t. The cat was dead.’
‘Sylvie, the scientist, filled her time doing research to benefit people everywhere. I mean, how many people care about malaria when we hardly come across any cases locally? It’s not easy for me to imagine that an angel like her could harbor such sick impulses. Or that she’d be able to continue to conduct herself professionally in a scientific environment.’
‘Let me explain the chain reaction, cause and effect, if I may, that drives our lives.’ Words cascaded out of the guru’s mouth. ‘An impulse can originate simply as a fleeting thought in your head, an image planted by you or someone else, or a shadow you can’t get rid of. The power of association in your mind magnetizes similar elements to it, a copy-and-paste job, you might call it, and soon you’ve given in to a small bad habit. You think nothing of it. Then, over time, that small bad habit fuels far worse ones. You begin to contemplate the unthinkable. Are you with me so far?’
Maya nodded, adjusted her position on the stool and gestured for the guru to elaborate.
‘Pardon me, Maya. I’m sorry to have to break through what you hold precious. Sylvie, the young, beautiful, star scientist, with the world at her feet, fooled her loved ones.’ The guru’s voice dropped slightly but still rang with conviction. ‘I believe this dark side of Sylvie was brought about partly by substance abuse.’
For an instant, Maya looked without seeing. She recalled her conversation with Jeet about Anna’s possible flirtation with drugs. She couldn’t imagine Sylvie smoking pot or drinking excessively. ‘Our Sylvie?’
‘Yes. She was incoherent. Being smart, she could see right away that she was on a downward spiral. She paid me a visit because she reasoned I had special powers to “cure” her.’
Maya had a sinking feeling, perhaps just what Sylvie had experienced, of sliding down and down and not reaching any solid surface. With effort, she rose above it. ‘And did you have any such power?’
‘No. Besides, in our practice, we respect the choices an individual makes. Although I counseled her, I could see that she would handle the matter as she saw fit.’
Why couldn’t you have sent her to a doctor or the emergency room, or asked her to speak with her family? Why did you stay so passive? Maya’s eyes roved the room. It was furnished simply, every object in its place, which indicated how much the guru loved a sense of order. Sylvie came to see him, a storm bulldozing the perfection of that arrangement. No wonder he couldn’t help her find a way out of the trap she’d fallen into.
That understanding, however beneficial, couldn’t cool the anxiety inside Maya, a brute emotion trying to rise and assert itself. Sylvie must have felt this way too and far worse. Poor Sylvie, without any help, without a lifeline.
‘Sylvie came from a respectable family. Her mother is a college professor and her sister, Veen, is an architect. They all adored her. They’d have helped her, if she’d only asked.’
The guru smiled slightly. ‘Be aware that w
hen a woman is in love, her lover often becomes the most important influence in her life. She might decide to take her counseling from him, not her family, not her friends. She might decide to live according to the rules he sets. Perhaps I wouldn’t be remiss if I said a woman’s fate, in certain instances, is determined by the man she loves.’
Maya bristled. ‘I’m much too independent, and I thought Sylvie was too.’ She paused. ‘Are you blaming Ivan?’
‘Well, a rejection from him, on top of her guilt for killing the cat, might have been the last straw.’
Maya opened her mouth and turned, only to find Samuel shooting an angry glance at her, as if signaling that her questions were a sign of disrespect to the guru. Although a pang of awkwardness followed and she was all wound up, Maya jumped in to make her point. ‘Unfortunately, Ivan seems to see the matter differently. He’s considering criminal prosecution.’
‘But truth can never be erased.’
A glance at the guru and the genial expression on his face infuriated her. She wished he didn’t take Ivan’s threats of bringing up the matter to the police so coolly. Nothing seemed to knock him off-balance. Still, she’d hoped he’d show more surprise and sorrow about Sylvie’s death.
‘But please consider all the evidence.’ The rumble of a bus disturbed the air and drowned out the rest of Maya’s remark. ‘Ivan speculates that there might be an affiliation between your meditation group and Sylvie’s death. He says he’s already talked to the police.’
‘How well do you know this Ivan?’ the guru asked when the bus had passed.
Something in the guru’s voice, a faint warning, caused Maya to lean back. ‘Oh, he’s a new acquaintance.’
‘I would suggest you stay away from him and his associates.’ The guru’s eyes conveyed a silent but clear message of caution. ‘He is – how do you say it? – very bad news.’
Maya stared at the triangle of sudden afternoon light illuminating – almost burning – a corner of the room. ‘Ivan, on the other hand, talks of his suspicion of the meditation practice you teach.’
Maya heard the harsh noise of a stool scraping. Samuel stood up in one abrupt motion and pointed a finger at her. ‘Enough – you must leave immediately.’
‘Please, I didn’t mean any disrespect.’
‘It’s all right, Samuel.’ The guru extended his hand in a calming gesture. ‘Please take your seat and go into meditation.’
‘I can’t meditate when this woman is present.’
‘How many times have you been told you mustn’t let any outside influence disturb your sitting?’
Samuel dropped down to his seat and shut his eyes, although his lips remained tight and his eyelids showed movement.
‘Time for my mid-morning prayer walk.’ The guru turned to Samuel and said, ‘Since you have errands to run, I’ll go alone.’
‘I apologize for taking so much of your time,’ Maya said. ‘Shouldn’t someone accompany you?’
‘Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be fine.’
‘Perhaps we’ll continue this conversation another time?’
‘If you so wish. You came to talk about Sylvie but that’s not all you had in mind. You’re in a spot of trouble yourself, are you not?’
Maya was taken aback. She hung her head.
‘It has to do with a man who had once a claim on your heart. Am I correct?’
Yes, another fairy tale gone wrong. ‘I’m trying to cast him out of my mind.’
‘You’re frustrated and confused by his actions. Believe me, in time, there’ll be a satisfactory solution for everyone concerned.’
Maya dabbed at her eyes and looked up at him, surprised that he’d figured this out. If only everything was that simple, that natural, that predictable. If only every herb in her garden flourished.
‘I must go now.’ The guru folded his hands at his heart center and examined the white flowers in the vase. ‘May the purity of the flowers touch your heart. May you carry nothing but affection within you. May you merge with the flow of universal peace.’
Maya stood, absorbing as much of the guru’s quiet strength as she could, and drew herself to her full height.
Samuel opened his eyes and got to his feet.
‘Show her the letter,’ the guru said to Samuel, rose and slipped out of the room through an interior door.
Samuel led Maya to the front entrance, saying, ‘Please wait,’ and disappeared into a small office. He returned and handed her an envelope. ‘This is from Sylvie, received on the day she died.’
Maya checked the postal stamp; the date was accurate. Inside, handwritten on a fancy notecard, was a succinct, two-paragraph message from Sylvie thanking the guru for all he’d done for her. Maya recognized the loopy, angled-to-the-left, elegant penmanship as being unmistakably Sylvie’s.
By the time you receive this …
Maya diverted her gaze for an instant.
In case there are attempts to blame you, I want everyone to know that my decision is mine alone. You didn’t coerce me or make the arrangements. You were unaware of the date and time. In all these years, you’ve given me nothing but love. And now I must leave you lovingly.
Silver
Slowly, Maya returned the letter to Samuel. A deep, achy sadness welled up inside her.
‘Do you now see it?’ Samuel asked in a bitter tone. ‘Our guru isn’t so concerned about himself, but I trust this letter will put an end to your rude inquisitiveness.’
‘No, I don’t see it all.’ She paused for a moment and, with a dismissive wave of her hand, stepped outside.
Glass beads of rain shocked her cheeks but also awakened her. As she walked toward her car, her head spun with the motherlode of information received in this visit. It was quite a list: Sylvie getting addicted to recreational drugs, losing control, murdering her cat and taking her own life, Ivan being implicated somehow in her tragic end. But there were several missing links in all this.
Maya started her car. Despite the guru’s warning, she’d have to approach the handsome, chivalrous, ‘very bad news’ Ivan.
NINETEEN
After her visit with the guru, Maya drove home, her shoulders slumped from the gravity of the encounter. She exited her car, wondering if the guru had divulged all the secrets about Sylvie or if any crucial fact was still missing. If, in fact, his safety was in doubt.
In the front yard, she drank in her white lilies. They each looked like a star when viewed from the front and she was reminded of Sylvie.
She entered the house, stood in the doorframe of her living room and looked toward the window. Eyes shut, Uma lounged in a chair, one hand drawn across her chest and pressing on the opposite shoulder. A book and an iPad rested on an end table.
How unusual for Uma not to fill every spare moment either leafing through a novel, huddling over her iPad to surf the Internet or preparing yet another delicacy in the kitchen. Something was up.
Maya cleared her throat. Uma stirred and lifted her gaze; her eyelids were heavy. In the purplish afternoon light coming through the window, her usually serene face was wrinkled with concern.
‘Oh, you’re back.’ Voice tight, Uma continued to massage her shoulder.
Maya dropped down on a chair and crossed her legs. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Well, no. I … I’m a bit on edge. I don’t want you to be concerned, but … someone hit me … hit my back with a rock. It scared the crap out of me. Kind of medieval, don’t you think?’
‘What?’ Maya jumped up and stared at a small, reddish bump on Uma’s shoulder. What if the rock had hit Uma’s head? How much more serious would that have been? It could have claimed her life. Steaming inside, Maya squeaked out a deeply concerned, ‘Who did this, where and when?’
‘I wish I’d seen his face. After my walk I went to get groceries from the corner market, came home, put down the bags on the porch and unlocked the door. Man oh man, something hit me hard on the shoulder. I felt a shot of pain and blacked out for an instant. When
my vision cleared, I spotted the rock lying behind me on the porch and saw a cyclist racing down the road. He had on a blue nylon jacket. Not sure it was him, but he was moving fast and no one else was around.’
‘I’ll take you to the doctor right away, but let me call the police first. This is assault and battery.’
‘Oh, no, we don’t need the police, nor do we need a doctor visit.’ An edge of fear was evident in Uma’s voice. ‘I’m fine. A little swelling is about all I’ve suffered.’
‘You should see a doctor.’ Maya pulled her cellphone out, called her primary-care physician, Dr Moore, and left a message about scheduling an emergency visit with Uma. She turned to her mother. ‘That coward – he didn’t confront you, he was probably waiting in an alley, watching your comings and goings. You know what? That rock was meant for me.’
Uma looked panicked. ‘For you?’
‘Yes, hurting you would hurt me and the guy knew that,’ Maya said firmly, looking into Uma’s eyes. ‘You’re paying for me. I’m so sorry, Ma.’
Still standing, Maya tried to feel the comforting touch of the rug under her feet; it wasn’t there. She couldn’t put her finger on whom she might have spoken to recently who could have become angry enough to start throwing rocks, but maybe she should back off on her investigation, if only to protect her mother.
‘Don’t be sorry, my dear, and don’t blame yourself. You’re obviously in somebody’s way. You won’t let them cover Sylvie’s ashes with lies. You’re doing what you’re compelled to do.’
Maya tuned into the raging vehicle noises outside the window to drown out the dreadful feelings twisting through her. ‘If you want to catch the next flight back to Kolkata, I’d understand. I know your gentleman friend Neel would like that.’
Season of Sacrifice Page 14
