Cracks

Anu woke in the morning to find Sujoy sprawled on the living room sofa. He hadn’t even taken off his shoes. She had waited up for him till midnight, having tried unsuccessfully to reach him on the phone, and then fallen asleep. It was Monday morning but it didn’t look like Sujoy was heading to work. Anu nudged him. Sujoy opened his eyes with a start but the look of confusion changed immediately to one of annoyance.

‘What is it?’ he asked brusquely.

‘It’s 8:30, don’t you have office today?’

Sujoy grunted and turned over on his side.

‘Can you at least go to the bedroom and crash? Jeet will be out anytime and I don’t want him to see you like this.’

Sujoy seemed to consider this, then with great effort, hauled himself up. He clutched the back of his head; he had a massive hangover. Unsteadily, he managed to lumber across to the bedroom and fell on the bed with a thud.

Anu walked to the door and banged it shut.

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Mala stood in the kitchen stirring something over a fire. It was in their house in Maharani Bagh, where the windowless kitchen was lit by the glow of electric lights even during the day. Music played in the background, she liked to cook to the sound of piano. A man walked into the kitchen and put his arms around Mala’s waist. She turned her face up and smiled at him. And then, the man slowly turned his face to the door. It was Ronojoy. He had a sly look in his eyes, as he looked at Sujoy…

Sujoy sat up with a jolt – his chest was pounding, neck clammy with sweat. Sunlight streamed into the room. It hurt his head, he shielded his eyes. He had his watch on, it was noon. He washed his face and walked out to find Anu sitting at the dining table. She looked upset.

‘We need to have a chat.’

‘Relax. I was at Dada’s place.’

‘So? Is that an excuse to switch your phone off and come home drunk in the dead of night? Where is this going, Sujoy? To be frank, I’ve had quite enough of it,’ she spat.

‘You know what? Same here. I’ve also had enough.’

Anu looked stunned.

‘I see,’ she said after a long pause. ‘Very well then, I won’t come in your way. You can sort your life out.’ She strode purposefully away towards the bedroom.

Sujoy sat there with his chin in his hand, staring outside. Something was happening on the window-sill of the neighbouring building. Two chaps – gardeners from the look of it – perched precariously on the ledge of the tall building, were dismantling a nest. A couple of large black kites wheeled above, it was clearly their nest and they seemed very agitated. One swooped down to nearly snatch a branch away from their hands but was beaten back with a broom. Lots of other birds, crows mostly, had gathered as well and the air was filled with their loud cawing. The men didn’t relent, they swept away all the twigs and grass from the sill before easing themselves back into the building through a small window. The kites returned to perch where their nest had been. One looked down and produced a shrill, piercing call. Days spent building their nest had come to naught, they would have to start again.

In a few minutes, Anu stormed out of her room with a suitcase and headed towards the main door. ‘I will pick Jeet up from school. Don’t call me and don’t come to Ma’s place, I don’t want to see you.’ The door slammed shut, she was gone.

Strangely, Sujoy didn’t feel upset at all. In fact, he felt relieved. There was so much turmoil inside his head, the last thing he needed around him was an atmosphere of domestic bitterness. Sujoy hated unpleasantness, in fact he had an almost pathological aversion to it. But of late, the air at home reeked of it. He was too young to remember how it must have been at home between his parents but judging from stray memories and what he had heard from Ronojoy, it may have been somewhat like this. No, it must have been worse. Much more had gone wrong back then.

He remembered that he had a few calls to make. First, to his office to tell them he was unwell and wouldn’t be in. He did that and then dialled Ronen Uncle.

‘Hello Sujoy, how come you suddenly remembered your old uncle?’ his voice was warm as usual.

‘Ronen Uncle,’ Sujoy hesitated, ‘I was wondering if you could give me Apu Kaka’s number.’

There was a brief silence before Ronen Uncle replied, ‘Apu’s number? I thought Ronojoy would already have spoken to him…’

‘Yes, I know he has been informed about Ma. I wish to speak to him about something else.’

Ronen Uncle couldn’t have known what Sujoy wanted to speak to his uncle about but it was clear that he was uncomfortable with the idea.

‘Sujoy, don’t take it otherwise but could I suggest something? Why don’t you send him a mail first – Apu is quite prompt with mails – and then follow it up with a call. He may be better prepared to er … speak with you.’

Sujoy considered this. ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘Let me take down his mail id from you.’ He scribbled the id Ronen Uncle read out and thanked him.

Fetching his laptop from the sofa, he typed out a few lines:

Apu Kaka, I need to discuss something important with you. Please let me know what is a good time to call and on what number. Sujoy.

He clicked send. Looking up from the computer, Sujoy thought of the possible consequences of what he had just set in motion. Ronojoy’s warning came to mind. But he couldn’t simply pretend that nothing had happened and carry on living his life. He had to find some kind of equilibrium again.

Apu Kaka would be sleeping now in New Jersey. A few hours would pass before day broke in that part of the world. A world where Sujoy’s biological father lived with his wife and fourteen-year old daughter. A family oblivious to the carnage he had left behind in his own country, decades ago.

The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. It was Ronojoy.

‘Sujoy, are you okay?’

‘Yes, I am fine, just a bit hung over. I came home straight from your place.’

‘Well, I just got a call from Ronen Uncle. He said you asked him for Apu Kaka’s number.’ Ronojoy paused before continuing, ‘Are you sure it is the right thing to do? Wouldn’t it be better to wait a while?’

‘No Dada, in my current state of mind, waiting is not an option. But I promise you that I will try my best to be tempered and civil when I speak to him. It will not be an outburst.’

‘Well, guess I won’t be able to dissuade you then. Keep his age in mind at least, and the fact that he has a family that has nothing to do with our past.’
Then added: ‘And call me after you have spoken, please?’

‘Sure. I’ll let you know. By the way Dada, one other thing – Anu left home this morning. She will be at her mother’s place for a while. You might get a call from her at some point. You know things have not been great at home. It’s perhaps best for all of us, Jeet particularly, to be apart for a bit. I am not quite myself now and will needlessly be taking out my frustrations on people around me.’

Ronojoy’s worst fears were coming true. He sighed and said, ‘I am worried about you, Chhotku. Do you think it will help to talk to someone like Doctor Mirza? I know you are sceptical but he did help me a lot. I can set it up very easily…’

‘Not right now, Dada. If I need to, I will let you know, okay?’

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At the other end, Ronojoy called Anu.

She picked up immediately. Her voice was subdued, ‘Dada, I don’t know what to say to you. Guess this has been coming for some time but it had become unbearable now. I’m sorry, but if you have called to ask me to go back…’

‘No, Anu, not at all. That’s not why I called. Chhotku is very upset right now. Ma’s passing away has stirred a lot of pent-up emotions in him. I know that cannot justify his behaviour with you or Jeet but…he needs a bit of time, Anu. It is actually not a bad thing for the two of you to stay out of his way for a few days. If you think it will help if I spoke to Jeet, I would be glad to drop by and bring him over to my place for half a day. Only if you think it’s a good idea.’

Anu’s voice was muffled with sobs, ‘Thank you, Dada. I don’t know what to say to Jeet. He is so young. Sujoy has been very testy with him too…you know how much he adores his father. Listen, I’ll call you later Dada, okay? But thank you for calling, I really appreciate it.’ She hung up.

Ronojoy felt vexed. Trouble always seemed to arrive in waves for them.

This pattern of recurrence had instilled in Ronojoy – and he was sure in Sujoy as well – a mistrust of calm. He was always watching over his shoulder. Any peace was merely transient; misery was always lurking, biding its time.

Was this what people meant when they said they were cursed?

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All this had left its scars on Ronojoy’s personality. He was acutely aware of his inability to let anyone get too close to him. Even in school he had made very few close friends, fearing perhaps that these friendships too would end abruptly, leaving him vulnerable to pain. Later in life, he tried forging more enduring relationships with women, again without success. The moment any relationship reached a point where a commitment was desired, he had faltered. Though looking at Sujoy now, he thought that might have been prudent.

Ronojoy’s most serious and longest lasting relationship had been with Sree. She was an economist with the India office of a US based think tank. They had been introduced by a common acquaintance at a book launch in one of the Delhi hotels. She was Ronojoy’s type – self-assured, quiet, witty and not clingy; the attraction had been immediate. They had seen each other for nearly three years and it was the closest he had ever come to contemplating a life together with a partner. Sree too had hinted at it, she wasn’t getting any younger, after all.

Yet, Ronojoy kept deferring a decision till her patience ran out. Sree was not given to histrionics, but he remembered her words from their last meeting:

‘This is not heading anywhere, Rono. I can feel it. You are the sort of guy who can never care too much for another. To you, if it works out that’s okay and if it doesn’t, that too is fine. You lack the glue that keeps people together. Others are never integral to your existence. And I don’t want to spend my life with such a person. You make me feel dispensable.’

What disturbed Ronojoy most was that there was truth in what she had said; he dealt remarkably easily with the breakup, almost as if he had always expected it.

None of this would have been such a problem if he had been by nature a loner. But he wasn’t. Often, when he returned home in the evenings, he would crave the company of another soul. He would look up from the road outside hoping the lights would be on in his apartment, knowing that they could not be. And when he thought of the years of loneliness that lay ahead, he was filled with dread. Did sadness breed more sadness?

Had his brother and he lost the key that would let them out of this vicious spiral?