Two Lines

thirty

"What do you mean, Kanak?"

She was crying, looking at her folded hands which were trying to break each other.

"Mrs. Tara Gayakwad. I mean, Late. Mrs--"

"She's my mother. So what?"

"My dad was the one who--"

"Shut up!"

Bhaskar stood abruptly, his force startling her.

"Bhaskar... I know that---"

"Oh fuck! You left me because you thought I would hate you if I... If I came to know about your dad?"

"Bhaskar..."

He was pacing fast, breathing fast and thinking fast.

"You should have said something, Kanak. You should have asked something... You..."

She was confused. She had expected a different reaction. His seething anger and hatred was to be welcomed but he wasn't doing anything related to recordings in her pre planning program of brain.

Why was he not following according to the story in her head?

"Bh--"

"You fucking shut up!"

His wasn't loud but his words were louder. He was definitely angry but not the way she needed him to be.

"What do you think? That I don't know who killed her?"

She was stumped in shock, deafening silence after his question proved to be painful and her voice cracked up.

"Who?"

"I was the one for whom she died. I was the one who saw her dying. I was the one whom she saved."

With each word his frustration grew. His body was shivering. Was it rage or pain, she couldn't understand.

"I was responsible for her death!"

She tried to touch his hand which was pale bundled fist, trying to believe the reality.

And of course, it was all real.