3

I thought I must have misheard when several voices outside yelled, ‘Snake! Snake!’ Seconds later, I turn around and there’s the king cobra behind me, having made its way underneath the parting curtains from the waiting area into Shome’s chamber.

Its hood is raised, its tongue flicking, its body in several coils on the floor. It seems to be gazing fixedly at me: my left leg is a couple of metres from its head. Shome’s chamber is old-fashioned and large: this creature might not even have noticed the fucker cowering behind his desk.

The fucker cowering behind his desk might not even be this creature’s mission.

I’m still (strangely) lucid, because of course I think of Manasa. This isn’t a random visitor. I think of Arati stabbing me in the back. I think of my consent to being her pathway to Tuntuni.

So, finishing me is still her task! The distributors of the Shakti must have found me unreliable and treacherous from the start. They’ve been using me for target practice, for others to earn their stripes.

Perhaps Arati is after two birds, or even three, including Ramesh. Look how easy I made it for her, though, by taking the trouble to be in the same room as Shome. By the way, I cannot read a snake’s mind even though I can’t look away.

Arati, I’m happy we had those hours together last night. I’m happy I parted from you believing we were friends. And I’m happy to be the friend who will help, by her death, to take away so much of your pain. It’s the only choice for you to make.

It would be even easier to let go of this nothing life if I hadn’t been shown that cruel dream hours before my death. Suck on this, motherfuckers, if you thought that child would make me beg.

The silence after the screaming is eerie: the waiting room must have emptied. They wouldn’t have known this snake was on a mission.

Actually, there is a sound. The king cobra seems to be growling, almost like a small dog. I think with total clarity: Shivani, they have come for me. I turned out to be unfit for purpose too, which, as a judgement coming from bigoted, divisive nationalists, is really a compliment, I reckon.

When the snake moves, I have already closed my eyes. When I look again, and turn around, I cannot be sure exactly when Shome passed away. His eyes are still open, looking somewhere past my left shoulder. He hadn’t even tried to run.

The snake isn’t visible just now. But the chamber is truly large. It could be biding its time in a corner, awaiting its next order.

Because look, there’s Arati walking in through those curtains. Perhaps she wanted to say goodbye to this old friend in person.

I’m determined not to plead. I’ve had enough of being toyed with. I’m no hero, but I’ll keep the promise I made in Dhanuka’s office. No one will see me cower.

Without a word, Arati walks past me and around the desk, and gives Shome a push. He falls out of his chair. I again wonder where the snake is hiding.

‘Can my mother and Anjali and Raja stay at your house?’ she asks me. ‘The channel people have promised to lend us a car. Ma will pick up Raja from school, and also call Anjali at the mall. Can they stay until things die down?’

I nod, absolutely puzzled. I suppose that is pragmatic. My flat will be empty, and Arati will be with Tuntuni. I was also the one who had insisted on demanding shelter for her family.

‘I’m going to deal with Ramesh, and then I’ll be with Tuntuni. I don’t know exactly when I’ll return. Thank you for taking them in.’ Arati continues to announce the biggest things in an almost-absent voice.

Yet, at the same time as I see a flash of her giving birth (which might be where she wants to be transported), I realise the kitchen door last night was no barrier at all. That wasn’t what saved me. It has been my friend’s choice, repeatedly, not to harm me.

At once I find my voice, as well as things to say. Everything else, even the likelihood of a king cobra in the room, is blotted out by my delight. This is still the friend I love, and moreover I have incredible news she might not know!

‘Arati, before you go, there is so much I need to tell you. I’m sorry I came here but I couldn’t help myself. But I did get something enormously valuable out of this bastard …’

‘You should leave before the police arrive,’ she interrupts. ‘Go home, and watch my interview on the news. And keep watching, because you’ll see Vivekananda Road as well.’ In her mind, she is already at the sweet shop.

The waiting area is deserted, toys lying where they were dropped, as well as two phones. The crowd begins thirty metres away from the clinic entrance. There is such disbelief as we step out that no one even asks a question, so I yell that the snake is still inside. ‘Call the police, and the zoo. And get somebody from the hospital as well, because the doctor has been bitten.’

Luckily, I had found a parking spot right opposite the clinic and my way on to CIT Road is abnormally clear.