Diamond Hearts (Volume I & II)

40. Blasts: Before and after

Three days back, Los Angeles

Jyotiraditya :

Being youngest among Bhardwaj cousins, I was immensely loved and cosseted. Sports bikes, imported cars or exotic vacations, I just had to name it and dadu would get everything at my feet. I never had to take burden of responsibilities until my elder brother Vedang rebelled against my grandfather leaving for Himalayas.

And that was the day my life changed. Overnight, I had to give up on things I loved and take my position as heir of Bhardwaj Empire. At twenty four, I was shoved into the business world with responsibility of a whole Conglomerate, not that I wanted to. It was thrown straight to my face. But I was still happy because I had her.

We were to tie a knot. Living in ecstasy and bliss, I stayed oblivious to diabolical play of fate until that night came. An egregious night that took her away and my life changed again, for worse. All because of one man, if could hate him I would. Ironical, after everything he made me go through, I still loved him, what better way to substantiate it than roaming around like an imbecile in an unknown city, banging at doors of strangers just to fulfill his one wish, like he had fulfilled my ones as a child.

He loved all his children. Always taught me family comes first. Then how could he be so ruthless with her? She was erased and forgotten. Glimpses of her existence lay hidden in shreds unknown to us and he didn't try to find her. Did he never miss his daughter, his own blood and flesh? Oh he did, everyone did. His breakdown proved. So, here I was, finding the woman who didn't get to live her life the way she wanted, because of the same man who destroyed my love life.

I was also angry with my father. Despite knowing that Bua lived in LA, all these years he hadn't confronted the proud, egoistic industrialist who happened to be my grandfather. This was last house for the day. In two places, people seemed to recollect that for a very short while there lived man called Naman Malhotra along with his wife and a son. But no one remembered Kalindi bua. Her three decades long, half-burnt picture wasn't of much help.

Running a hand through my hair, I sighed exasperatedly and signaled my assistant to ring the bell. A white woman in her mid-thirties opened the door. Shaking my head, I turned on the heels thinking it was another wrong address.

"Pardon miss, we had been told that the Malhotras lived here." Pranit, my assistant initiated.

"No, this is Smith's." The lady replied.

"Have you seen this woman? Maybe in the neighborhood?" Pranit inquired showing her bua's picture.

"No, we have lived here for almost a decade; I haven't seen her ever," She answered before closing her door.

Kicking the flat tire of our rented car, I walked to a nearby garden and took a seat on a bench as Pranit contacted our hotel for sending another vehicle.

"Hey, what're you doing in my garden?" An old woman, in her early sixties shouted from the window, getting up from her armchair.

"Sorry, grandma. We didn't realize it was yours. Have you heard of any Malhotras staying close by?" Pranit sauntered towards her door as the white lady came out holding a wooden stick.

"I'm not your grandma, you knucklehead. And Malhotras, what about them?" She questioned and that made me get up instantly from cold bench.

"You know them? Could you please, give us an address or phone number, anything? My boss and I have been searching for them since weeks. Wait, have you seen this woman?" Pranit showed her the picture.

"Why are you looking for her?" The lady glanced at me wearing her specs after having a look at the worn out photo.

"She is... She is family," I stared at her with hope, although the word bua still seemed foreign to me.