It was 6 a.m. the next morning when Aditya’s phone buzzed on his bedside table. He reached out for it and saw that it was Rohit calling. Meera was still asleep next to him. Not wanting to disturb her, he stepped out of the bedroom onto the balcony.
‘Hello, Rohit. What’s wrong?’
‘Tanvi. She is missing. Can you come here immediately?’
Aditya was in two minds whether to rouse Meera or not. Finally, he gently nudged her awake. ‘Hey, we need to go,’ he said.
They were on the road within ten minutes. The streets were relatively free of traffic at that early hour, but not completely deserted. The city never sleeps, Aditya thought, as they sped towards Paradise. He drove the car into the compound and parked it near the
main entrance of the house. The Honda was nowhere to be seen, and Aditya wondered if Rohit was at home.
However, he opened the door before they could ring the bell.
‘What’s up? Where is Tanvi?’ Aditya asked him as they stepped inside.
‘This morning, at around five-thirty, I realised she was missing. I looked everywhere in the house but could not find her. That’s when I saw that the car is missing. And I called you. She must have driven off somewhere—I am so worried, Aditya,’ Rohit said, pacing nervously across the room.
‘Is she capable of driving a car in her current state?’ asked Meera.
‘Must be. I mean, she has not been driving these last months, but ...’
Aditya called a contact in the Road Transport Department. He gave him the details of the car and Tanvi’s description. ‘Please alert me as soon as you hear something,’ he told the contact.
‘It’s all my fault,’ said Rohit, agonised.
‘It’s not. Don’t worry, we will find her,’ Aditya reassured him.
An hour had passed before Rohit’s phone rang. ‘Hello,’ he answered at the first ring. ‘What? Okay, I will be right there.’
‘Pratap Chauhan called. Tanvi is at the office,’ he said, and they all rushed out.
They drove in Aditya’s car to Bakshi Pharma’s office in BKC. As they approached the building, Rohit exclaimed, ‘There it is, our car!’ The Honda was parked near the main entrance, its front wheels on the sidewalk, its bonnet mere inches from a lamppost.
It was not yet 8 a.m., and the building was more or less empty. The cleaners were at work when they reached the office floor. Pratap Chauhan, always among the early birds, was standing outside his cabin, looking nervous.
‘Thank God you have come,’ he said.
‘Is she in there?’ Rohit asked, moving towards Tanvi’s cabin.
‘Not there. Here,’ said Chauhan, opening the door to his own office. Aditya followed Rohit in, Meera and Chauhan behind them. Tanvi was sitting at Chauhan’s desk. Dressed in her hospital gown, her long hair unkempt, she was playing with the glass paperweight, humming a tune they could not recognise.
‘Hello, Pratap uncle. Where is Papa? Didn’t he come with you?’ she asked Chauhan.
‘Tanvi,’ Rohit began.
‘Who are you?’ she asked him.
‘You don’t recognise me? I am Rohit ... your husband.’
Tanvi did not respond. She began to fiddle with the paperweight again. Aditya moved closer to Meera.
A few employees had gathered outside the cabin, curious to know what was going on. They had heard Tanvi was not well, but seeing her in this condition clearly surprised them. Chauhan asked one of them to call security. He promptly obeyed.
‘Tanvi Rohit ventured again, taking a step forward.
‘Get out!’ Tanvi screamed and hurled the paperweight at Rohit. It missed him by inches, smashing the French window behind him. A gust of wind blew in through the shattered glass.
‘You killed my father,’ Tanvi shouted, looking at Chauhan.
‘That’s absolute nonsense, Tanvi!’ said Chauhan, outraged at the accusation, not to mention embarrassed, as a sizeable chunk of his staff were watching the scene by now.
‘You are a murderer. I will kill you,’ Tanvi continued.
‘Please take her away,’ Chauhan instructed the two burly security guards who had arrived at the cabin door. They walked over to Tanvi, lifted her off the ground without ceremony, and carried her out of the cabin and across the reception area towards the exit. Tanvi continued her tirade, hurling abuses and threats at Chauhan, who tried to maintain his composure as best he could.
Rohit was distraught. ‘I am very sorry,’ he said to Chauhan, before heading for the exit.
‘It is okay, she is unwell. I understand,’ Chauhan replied, adjusting his tie.
Bidding Chauhan a hurried goodbye, Aditya and Meera left. Aditya saw that the staff who had gathered to watch the spectacle had scattered by now. Waiting for their coffee break to gossip about the boss, he thought.
As they entered the elevator, Meera muttered to Aditya, ‘She is crazy. Something must be done about her.’
She is right. Something must be done about Tanvi, Aditya concluded.