The Forbidden Daughter

by Shobhan Bantwal

  With a sudden heavy heart Isha realized what Priya was doing. Her little girl was subconsciously looking to replace her father, the man who’d read to her, hugged her, and kissed her good night. It brought back a flood of memories of past happy times, and Isha quickly averted her eyes and went back to her sewing, lest her emotions get out of hand.

  Harish had chosen to read to Priya in the drawing room instead of the bedroom, implicitly letting Isha know that he had no intention of encroaching on their privacy. And for that she was grateful. He was a gentleman.

  After reading a few pages, he sent Priya off to bed, assuring her that he’d see her again the following Thursday for their weekly chess game. Isha and he watched with some amusement the child reluctantly drag her feet toward the bedroom.

  “She’s a bundle of curious energy. I’m sorry she’s made you the target of that,” Isha said to Harish.

  “Please don’t ever apologize for Priya or Diya,” he chided. “I happen to like your children very much. And I like Milind and Arvind, too.”

  “You really mean that, or are you being polite? Every mother likes to think her children are special, you know.”

  “But your children are special. They’re both delightful.”

  “I’m afraid I have to agree.” Isha gave him a pleased grin.

  “Priya seems very interested in science, especially medicine.

  The other day, she asked me some really interesting questions about heartbeats that wouldn’t normally captivate a child her age. She’s fascinated by hearts and stethoscopes.”

  “I noticed that when you let her borrow yours in your office.

  She talked about it for several days after that visit—something about how the chest makes interesting sounds.”

  “Maybe she’ll pursue a medical career when she grows up.”

  Startled, Isha stared at him across the room, her needle and thread poised in midair. Wasn’t that what the sadhu had hinted at? Something about Priya being a healer?

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  He looked wistful. “I wish I had kids like yours.”

  “So why don’t you get married and have some of your own?”

  “Maybe I should.” He held her gaze with a contemplative expression. “I hadn’t given it much thought until I started to spend time with your children and Kumar and Sheila’s. I’m beginning to realize I’m missing a lot in life.”

  “Then do it, Harish. Do it soon. God gave Nikhil very little time with his child. He never even got to see Diya, let alone hold her and enjoy her. One never knows what lies ahead in life. Live yours to the max while you have a chance.” She shut her eyes for an instant. “I wish I’d spent more time with Nikhil, taken some interest in his business, traveled, laughed more with him, and even just talked. If I only knew then . . .”

  “I’m really sorry about Nikhil. I’m sure it’s hard to lose someone you cared so deeply about.”

  “I’m slowly learning to accept it as my naseeb.” Destiny.

  “It’s all part of the long grieving process,” he said wisely.

  “Acceptance takes time.”

  “I’m realizing that. But the hard part is coming to terms with the fact that someone deliberately set out to kill him. If it were an accident or illness, one can accept it as God’s will . . . But premeditated murder is difficult to live with.”

  His brows rose high. “Good Lord! It was deliberate?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I’d suspected all along that Nikhil’s murder was intentional, and it was later confirmed by the police. Nikhil must have gone to the superintendent about Dr. Karnik’s illegal abortions and—”

  At once realizing what she’d said, Isha skidded to a stop. She had no business bad-mouthing one doctor to another, especially in a close-knit community. She couldn’t risk tarnishing Karnik’s reputation, even though she had some sort of proof sitting in her home at that moment. If Karnik ever found out about it, she’d be in grave danger.

  “Abortions?” Harish’s eyebrows snapped together.

  “It’s nothing. Please forget I said anything.” Oh dear! He looked like he was determined to find out more.

  164 Shobhan Bantwal

  “No, I want to hear this,” he insisted. “My family and I have had our suspicions about Karnik and a few other ob-gyns in this town, but this is the first time I’m hearing about it from someone else.”

  “Why do you have suspicions?” She had never thought of Harish as a suspicious sort.

  “It’s a little beyond coincidence that some obstetricians seem to have mostly male births amongst their patients. Nature isn’t that selective, unless it’s given a helping hand.” He leaned forward in his chair, his gaze firmly fixed on her face. “Tell me . . .

  please.” When she shook her head, he said, “I promise not to tell another soul.”

  She turned it over in her mind for a second. She knew his sister-in-law was an ob-gyn, and she didn’t want to point fingers at anyone in his family. Also, although there was no doubt that the man who sat across from her was trustworthy, she didn’t know if it was safe for him to know such things. Knowing dirty and dangerous secrets about his fellow doctors could be both uncomfortable and risky for him.

  In the end she decided to tell him all. She’d come to know him well. He was the persistent type and would find out the truth one way or the other. “You have to swear you won’t say or do anything that might end up hurting you.”

  “Why would it hurt me? I’m a pediatrician.”

  “You seem to be a man of principles, just like Nikhil. I’m afraid you’ll inadvertently get involved in this because of what I’m telling you. It could mean trouble for you. I don’t want that to happen.” God, she most certainly didn’t want another man dead because of Karnik, especially a man who’d become an ally, a trusted friend of the family.

  He mulled over that for a bit. “Tell me this: How did your husband get caught up with something like abortion in the first place? I don’t see the connection between a tire dealer and a medical ethics issue.”

  “There is a direct connection in our case.” She proceeded to tell him everything from the start, including her in-laws’ obsession with wanting grandsons and not granddaughters.

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  “They blatantly asked you to have an abortion?” Harish’s expression showed total dismay.

  “Yes. And Karnik was more than willing to perform it. In fact, the way he suggested it, I had a feeling it was very commonplace for him.”

  “Did your in-laws ask you to do the same thing when you were expecting Priya?”

  “Back then we didn’t know it was going to be a girl. We didn’t have a sonogram done. Thank goodness, because if we did, I’m sure they’d have forbidden me to have Priya, too.”

  “My God! Is there no sense of morality whatsoever in your in-laws?”

  “That’s the ironic part,” she said with a wry laugh. “They consider themselves the personification of high-caste morality.

  Even their justification for an abortion is what they claim the scriptures prescribe—that only a son can bring his parents mok-sha.” Salvation.

  Upon a parent’s death, a son was supposed to pour Ganga-jal—holy water from the Ganga River—into his parents’ mouths and thereby guarantee their souls’ direct entry into swarg. Heaven.

  It would ensure liberation from the tedious karmic cycle of birth and death.

  Harish shook his head. “I can’t believe people still use that silly notion to justify their actions. I suspect the real reason is their ego—having a boy to carry on their precious name and all that.”

  “I think that’s what got Nikhil so riled, that the parents he loved and respected so much could be two-faced, so full of righteous bluster on the one hand and so ruthless and amoral on the other.”

  “Why would he hide it from all of you?” Hari
sh looked genuinely puzzled.

  “His father had warned him not to make waves in a small town like ours, where the Karniks are respected members of the community. And Nikhil didn’t like to upset his father. I’m sure he didn’t confide in me because I would have told him the same thing—to stay out of Karnik’s dirty dealings, mainly because it could lead to ugly repercussions.”

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  She glanced at the framed photograph of a radiant Nikhil and herself, which she placed on the end table. They’d been on their honeymoon in Mount Abu. “But even my worst fears could never have foreseen murder.” She pressed a hand over her mouth to keep the emotions at bay. “I believe someone killed Nikhil for triggering an investigation into Karnik’s business affairs.”

  It took Harish a minute to absorb that. “I can see how Karnik would consider Nikhil a threat to his livelihood and his reputation.”

  “I know your sister-in-law is an ob-gyn and I don’t want you to think I’m including her with the likes of Karnik.”

  “Don’t worry. Prachi has strong opinions on women’s rights.

  She’d never dream of performing abortions just to get rid of girls, especially when she has a little girl of her own.”

  Isha took a short breath of relief. “Thank goodness for a few good doctors.”

  “Hopefully more than a few,” he said dryly. “I know every one of them through the local medical association and they seem so dedicated, so humane, including Karnik. I can’t imagine the mild-mannered old man could be capable of murder.”

  “Neither could I, until I found out it wasn’t a robbery gone bad but a foul murder that was probably planned and executed by someone whom Nikhil and I knew so well. I still can’t believe such a gentlemanly individual could possibly be involved with such primitive violence. I guess he hired some killer to do his dirty work for him.”

  “Of course. Karnik wouldn’t soil his own hands with something gruesome like that. Did Nikhil seem different just before he passed away? Did you notice anything strange?”

  She attempted to recall those difficult, stressful days prior to Nikhil’s death. “There was a lot of tension around the house with my pregnancy progressing and Baba and Ayee gradually increasing the pressure on us. There were arguments, and naturally it led to problems between Nikhil and his parents, and as a result between him and me.”

  “Did he even hint at anything?”

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  She shrugged. “The whole stupid affair was a strain on our nerves and Nikhil was in a surly mood. The stress left him brooding a lot, which wasn’t his usual nature. He had a short fuse, but he also got over it quickly, and he always laughed a lot.

  He was a charming, likeable man.”

  “And your in-laws don’t see their son’s death as a direct result of this illegal abortion business?” Harish still looked dubious.

  “I’m not sure if they don’t see it or choose not to see it, because if they do, then the blame shifts to them. I can’t say for sure, but maybe if they hadn’t pressured us, Nikhil wouldn’t have been so rebellious and so adamant about exposing Karnik.”

  “You mean if his parents had never suggested abortion, Nikhil would have left the matter alone despite knowing that Karnik was performing illegal abortions?”

  “I really don’t know, Harish. Maybe I’m just deluding myself, dreaming up every excuse to blame my in-laws for what happened.” She folded the dress she was working on and laid it aside. “Perhaps Nikhil would have done it anyway. I’ll never know.”

  “But your in-laws were wrong in pressuring you to do something that went against your conscience. And it’s insane for them to blame you for producing girls.”

  “No more insane than blaming a baby for being the cause of her father’s death and her grandmother’s heart problems.”

  His frown deepened. “They blame Diya for Nikhil’s death?”

  She nodded. “According to my mother-in-law, Diya is a bad omen. That she’s bringing doom upon the family. First her father dies, and now this health issue. As the baby’s mother, I’m evil, too.”

  He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “Is that why you left them, Isha, because they made life impossible for you?”

  She nodded reluctantly. “If it were only me, it wouldn’t matter so much, but I wasn’t going to let them crucify my daughters.”

  “I now understand why you stayed in the convent and why you want to raise your children on your own. At first I won-168 Shobhan Bantwal

  dered why you had given up the comforts the Tilaks could afford to give you and their granddaughters.” He studied the happy young couple in the photo for a moment. “I’m really sorry about everything.”

  “No sorrier than I am,” she said. “I keep praying that Ayee will be healthy again and that she’ll stop laying the blame at Diya’s door. If Ayee dies of a heart attack she’ll go with a curse on her lips.” Isha shuddered at the notion of a dying woman’s curse falling upon her child.

  He looked at his watch and rose to his feet. “I better get going. Thanks for the delicious dinner.”

  “It was nothing.” She stood up and followed him to the door.

  “I’m sorry I burdened you with my problems.”

  “I’m glad you told me, Isha. It’s all beginning to make a lot of sense.” He took her hand in both of his. “You were forced to take a bold step and you did.”

  “I . . . did what I . . . had to.” The unexpected physical contact was disturbing. Her pulse shot up. Oh no! It couldn’t be.

  This was crazy. He was only being sympathetic.

  “I enjoyed the evening very much,” he said, the sincerity in his eyes telling her he was being totally honest. His hands seemed a bit unsteady, too.

  “Y-you’re welcome.” Was his pulse as erratic as hers?

  “Perhaps you’ll let me reciprocate? You can bring the girls and have dinner with my family sometime?”

  He held on to her hand. Her heart was hammering against her ribs. But it felt good, so she didn’t attempt to reclaim it. Instead she smiled at the thought of meeting his family. They sounded like nice, uncomplicated people, just like him.

  “I’d like that . . . if it’s okay with them,” she said. She wasn’t sure they’d approve of their precious son socializing with a widow and her two small children. They were likely to misconstrue what was only a friendship—if it could even be called that.

  Abruptly he dropped her hand and wished her good night.

  Then, picking up his umbrella, he was gone.

  The house suddenly seemed very quiet. Empty. It surprised her that she should feel that way. Her children were sleeping in THE

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  the other room. There was no cause to feel lonely and blue. And yet it was there, that void in her heart that never seemed to heal.

  This was silly thinking. I’m losing my mind. It had to be the constant drizzle outside that was dampening her mood, she told herself. The monsoon season would forever be associated with Nikhil’s death and the choking grief that had come afterward.

  Thank goodness, by the end of the month the rains would be gone.

  What she needed right now was something constructive to keep her mind occupied. So she went into the second bedroom, switched on the light, and pulled off the cover from the vintage sewing machine. She started working on another one of the many dresses she had begun during the week.

  It took a while for the tingling in her right hand to go away.

  Chapter 20

  After reading the same paragraph for the third time and not absorbing a word of it, Harish knew his attempts were hopeless. He flung the medical journal on the nightstand and shut off the bedside lamp. Lying on his back, he stared into the darkness.

  Generally he fell asleep the moment his head settled onto his pillow, but tonight sleep was a long way off. His mind seemed to be in overdrive at the moment.

  It was far t
oo occupied with other things—Isha Tilak for one.

  He couldn’t help recalling the evening’s events. It was one of the most momentous evenings of his life, if not the most. He had driven Isha and her girls to Sunday dinner at his brother’s house earlier. It had been a couple of weeks since he’d asked Isha if she would like to meet his family, and it had taken him nearly that whole time to introduce the subject to them.

  Explaining to them her rare circumstances hadn’t been easy, especially since they knew who Isha’s late parents and her in-laws were—well-known families with deep roots in Palgaum.

  At first they were shocked to learn that she had walked out on her in-laws—something unheard of, even in this day and age, especially when a woman had children. They looked at him with surprise and wariness, probably contemplating his relationship to Isha. But then their curiosity to meet the mystery woman overcame everything else.

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  “Of course,” Satish said. “Please invite her and her children.”

  “I’d love to meet her,” was Prachi’s eager response. No surprise there, since Prachi was a warm and gregarious soul.

  His father remained silent, while his mother’s first question after a moment’s hesitation was, “Is she vegetarian or nonvegetarian?”

  “What difference does that make?” Harish asked.

  “Arré, she is a pukka Brahmin.” Purebred Brahmin. “They are usually strict vegetarians, and I have to know what kind of dishes to cook, no?”

  “She eats chicken, I know,” Harish replied with a shrug. He’d never understood why women made such a big deal over something as basic and simple as food.

  So after that little introductory discussion, they had all agreed to entertain Isha and the girls a few days later. That had happened only hours ago.

  During the evening, his father had on his schoolmaster face.

  He threw occasional glances at Isha. Harish could tell Dada was doing his usual study-and-assess thing before saying too much—always the cautious observer and researcher. He was a hard man to please, but once he took a liking to or disliked someone or something, it was hard to change his opinion. Harish could only hope Dada had put Isha on his “likeable” list.