The following is a short story penned by me as participation in Write India, a year long short story writing contest where popular authors set guidelines, and one writes and submits the story in accordance to it. You can check out about the contest here:
This story is submitted as part of the month which is judged by Tuhin Sinha, who has written some amazing books like 'Of Love and Politics' and 'The edge of desire'. You can find his instructions below. Cool? Cool.
Apart from the regular rules of the Write India campaign, Tuhin Sinha himself had set the following rules:
- The paragraph provides an obvious lead in to a messy and chaotic play out between the three characters in Goa.
- Feel free to draw up your own equations and back stories between and of the three characters.
- Make it really passionate and unpredictable.
The passage given by Tuhin has been highlighted in florescent. Hope you guys like what I made of the story in itself.
* * *
In the middle of the flight, Kiara woke up to go the washroom. When she returned, she was too lazy to push her way into the middle seat. And with Rishaan readily offering to shift seats, the seating arrangement changed. With 20 minutes still remaining for the flight to land, a sleep starved Kiara took another power nap, this time holding Rishaan's right hand more firmly. Rishaan's other hand, though, nervously moved to touch Diya's. Her heart skipped a beat. Diya pulled her hand away. But a defiant Rishaan held her wrist again, this time firmly and more reassuringly. The changing behavioral dynamics between the three perhaps gave out a foreboding of what was to come in Goa.
When the flight landed at the Dabolim Airport, Rishaan felt uncanny... his excitement seemed replaced by an unknown fear that he found very difficult to decipher.
Throughout their cab ride to the hotel, Kiara looked pointedly away from Diya, while Rishaan simply held both their hands, trying to soothe flaring tempers. The silence was deafeningly loud, and even the cab driver looked behind nervously at the trio multiple times. Diya on her part, seemed to be lost, looking out the window at nothing in particular. The one time Rishaan tried to talk to Diya, the look she shot him made him raise both his hands in surrender and keep his mouth shut. She did let him hold her hand though, so Rishaan decided to focus on the small victories. Of course this meant he had to deliberately ignore Kiara who rolled her eyes at his feeble attempt at handling the situation.
* * *
Checking into the hotel at the Calangute Beach Motel turned out to be a another exercise in control, with Diya insisting she wanted a separate room, and it was all Rishaan could do to stop Kiara from losing her cool and shouting at Diya. Which is to say that as soon as he shut the door to their room, Kiara opened the floodgates at him instead.
“Why do you have to enable her craziness, Rishaan?” She demanded even before the door clicked shut.
“This is just a phase, Kiara. Diya’s going through some tough emotions.” He replied, making soothing motions towards his wife.
“And I’m not? You’re not? Why does she… Why is she taking it out on me?” Kiara asked, in tears. Rishaan caught her as she sagged, and helped her sit on the bed, hugging her gently. “Why not you too? Why am I the bad guy?”
Rishaan smiled in spite of himself. “No matter what happens, Kiara, Diya will always be our daughter. We just have to support her right now.”
“When she is pushing us away?” Kiara asked, anger bursting out finally, “Did you see how she edged away from me on the flight? How she pulled her hand away from you?”
“Kiara…”
“She hasn’t talked to me since last Friday. Ten days of treating me like I am some kind of monster, Rishaan! As if the last year wasn’t bad enough.”
Rishaan walked up to Kiara and held her by her shoulders. Her wiry frame crumpled as the fight bled out of her and she sank into his embrace. Rishaan stroked her hair and sighed.
“We need to do this, Kiara, you know that. We decided to tell Diya she was adopted. We knew this would come. Give her some time. Let her process it her own way. She loves you. You know that.”
“I know.” Kiara sobbed, as they both sat on the bed, holding each other. As they lay there, staring at the fan and the ceiling, Rishaan barely heard Kiara’s sobbing cease, or her breathing return to normal. He focused on suppressing his own fears, his own doubts; instead dwelling on his pride – his daughter Diya. He knew he had to be strong for Kiara’s sake; that he could not lose hope, but even as the day Kiara and Rishaan had feared for years drew closer, it was in Diya that he found his strength.
“I am so proud of her, you know.” He whispered. Silence responded, only broken by occasional sniffs from Kiara. He continued, “It took Diya less than a year to track them down.” Rishaan grunted as Kiara’s hand hit him on his side, but clearly her heart wasn’t in the blow. “No matter what happens tomorrow, Diya will always remain our daughter, Kiara.”
“This wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t taken after you.” Kiara said, and Rishaan laughed. He couldn’t control himself. “That stubbornness. That’s all you, love.” He replied, and caught her hand before a second blow could land.
* * *
Diya pushed away from Rishaan and strode forward towards the series of buildings at the end of the kachcha road. She could feel her heartbeat rising as she turned down the alley to the main entrance of the compound. She stopped right in front of the front gate, trying to calm the flood of thoughts and fears that threatened to overwhelm her. All that she had worked towards over the last years since she had been gifted her existential crisis had brought her to this point. She would find answers here.
“No matter what happens, Diya. We will be here for you.” Rishaan told her. Diya felt a surge of rage that ruined all the calm she had just about achieved.
“Did I say I want you? Who are you to me anyway?” She snapped. She felt a pang of guilt the moment the words were out of her mouth, and the cringe in her foster father’s face didn’t help. She told herself Rishaan deserved it for hiding the truth from her for twenty-two years, tried stamping out the guilt, but it refused to be extinguished. After all, Rishaan was her foster father only, Diya told herself one more time.
“We are your parents.” Rishaan said with steely resolve, collecting himself in that imperious manner he had about himself. “We always will be.” He finished as Kiara drew up. She just gave her a weak smile, and Rishaan put his arms around his wife. Diya grimaced.
“Yeah well, good parents would have told me about my origins much earlier.” She said and turned away without waiting for a reaction. The St Joseph’s Home for the Aged was where the answers would be.
* * *
“I’m not completely sure how responsive she will be. Please just be careful, and don’t upset her.” The attendant told Diya as he led her to the room. Rishaan and Kiara walked silently a little behind them. Kiara felt Rishaan’s hand grip hers tightly, echoing her own worries.
The adoption had been a sealed affair. Neither she nor Rishaan had had any clue about Diya’s birth parents, and to be honest to herself, she had no idea how Diya had found this woman in this place. They had thought it comprehensively before telling Diya the truth about her adoption. At twenty-three, she was a smart journalist and a strong soul who could understand the weight of the admission they were making. They had anticipated the anger, the fit, the blame games, even the silent treatment. Rishaan had been sure that after it all, Diya would return to their embrace, like after all their fights.
They had, however, not accounted for Diya’s journalistic prowess giving her any headway into her adoption details, or for a chance that she would be meeting her birth parents. Ten days back, their daughter had turned up at their doorstep, telling them the answers were in Goa, and throwing all their certainty into chaos. Rishaan thought he was being strong for Kiara’s sake, but Kiara knew the turmoil that her husband would be fighting in his own head. Kiara looked at Rishaan and smiled. They did not know what was coming, but Diya would need her parents, and they would be there for her. He nodded slightly, and they entered the room after Diya and the attendant.
The sitting room was not very large, but it had some carom board tables and some chess boards. Some of the residents were engrossed in listening to old music on the radio, others sat reading newspapers, while one old lady sat at the window looking out at the sky. The attendant tapped her gently and informed her about the visitors. Diya kneeled in front of her and whispered something. The woman looked down at her and frowned.
“I’m your grand-daughter, Isabel.” Diya repeated. The old lady tilted her slightly, but her expression never changed. Kiara’s hand tightened its grip on Rishaan’s as he began to take a step forward. She shook her head as he looked at her questioningly. Diya had to do this herself. If he intervened or tried to help, she would only take it the wrong way.
“I was born to your daughter, Maria?” Diya asked, a hint of worry in her voice.
The old lady smiled at the name, and replied “Maria monachae borae. Tu odkotha teka?”
Kiara looked to the attendant, who hastily replied, “She is asking if you know Maria.”
“I am her daughter. I was born twenty-three years ago, and placed into adoption at birth.” Diya said, rising to her feet. “My father was Anton.”
The old lady jerked at the name, and spoke agitatedly, “Antona vangda chedeyalanapana karun povle te. Tey mhuntali mogan asa khai.” She then fell silent, muttering “Tey mhuntali mogan asa khai.”
All eyes snapped back to the attendant, who stammered, “Um, well. She is… um… Apparently Maria ran off with Anton… Mrs. D’Silva isn’t very happy about it.”
“Could you ask her where we can find Maria?” Diya asked the attendant, who relayed the message to Isabel.
“Tya kutriya vangda asa tey Badyan” she replied, shaking a fist angrily at the attendant. He backed off and said, “She’s with Anton only. At Badem.” He paused, and then added “I’m sorry.”
Kiara caught Diya glance worriedly in their direction, and gave her a reassuring smile. Rishaan also nodded appreciatively. She turned back to the attendant and asked, “Do you know where this place is?”
“Yes of course. I have been her attendant for years now. I can take you there.” He replied promptly.
“Then let’s go.” Diya said, and bent to hug Isabel. The old lady hugged her back, searching her face for something. As they turned to leave, she exclaimed, “Maria mugoh!”
The attendant smiled and said, “She thinks you’re Maria.”
* * *
“A cemetery? They’re dead?” Kiara exclaimed as the car pulled up to the Badem Cemetery in Calangute. Rishaan just closed his eyes and sighed. Diya did not react at all. “Yes they are. My father died back when I was born. My mother died seven months ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell us, Diya?” Rishaan asked, sounding genuinely hurt for the first time. Diya ignored the inflection, and rounded up on her adoptive parents. “Why? Did you guys tell me I was adopted before I turned twenty-two?”
“That’s not fair, Diya.” Kiara said. “We told you when we thought you were ready. We did what we thought was best for you.”
“What was best for me?” Diya shouted, tears rolling down her eyes. “My mother died seven months ago. It took me a year to track them down. Maybe if you had told me earlier we would have been meeting a living person, not visiting a grave, for heaven’s sake!”
Stunned to silence, Kiara and Rishaan just looked at Diya, who was herself shocked at her outburst. She turned and sat back down properly at the navigator’s seat. The awkward silence built up, as Diya closed her eyes and tried to convince herself that she was right, that it was her parents’ fault. She wiped her tears angrily and got off the car.
As she walked into the cemetery and began looking for her parents’ graves, she heard footsteps follow her. She turned, ready to blast whichever of the two had decided to follow her, to find it was the attendant. “This way”, he told her and led her towards her parents.
“I bring Mrs. D’Silva every week to visit her daughter.” He said as he stopped in front of two grassed graves. Diya knelt down and felt the grass. She looked up to see the attendant still hovering, hopping from one foot to another.
“Could I have some privacy please?” She said flatly, but the attendant didn’t leave. He just stood there looking unsure about something. “What do you want? A tip?” Diya demanded.
The attendant stammered, “No… um… I heard what you said in the car –”
“That is none of your business!” Diya shouted. The attendant stepped back a bit, holding his hands up in peace. Diya took a deep breath and said as calmly as she could, “I’m sorry. I’m just… going through some stuff. Please let me be.”
“Well yes, but I thought you should know something about your mother.” The attendant replied hesitantly. Diya looked up at him questioningly, “What do you know about my mother?”
“I… umm… I have been Mrs. D’Silva’s attendant for years now. Before I used to bring her here… Well, um… I don’t know how to say this. Maria had been in a coma since the accident that killed her husband. She only died seven months ago because they finally pulled the plug on her. Pushed Mrs. D’Silva over the edge, it did.”
Diya just stared at the man. Her brain seemed to have stopped functioning altogether. Her mother had been alive. She had been… All this while she had thought that if she had been faster, if her parents had told her sooner… And all this time, her birth mother had been alive, and yet dead. Diya didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. All her research had not told her this one simple detail. All this time…
“Ma’am?” The attendant asked, breaking the silence, triggering all her pent up emotion. “Please… leave me alone.” Diya got out between her sobs. She cried, thinking over the last year, about how she treated her parents, about how much she wanted to know her birth parents. She cried and cried, and didn’t realize when she found Kiara and Rishaan on either side of her, one holding her, and the other stroking her hair.
“I’m sorry, Mom, Dad” she cried, surrounded by all four of her parents, “I love you.”
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