Second Lives (17 page)

Sometimes I would feel ill for no reason. My head would ache, I would sweat profusely and my heart would beat very fast. The symptoms would last only for an hour or two, and then I would be fine again.

My mother took me to our family doctor when I was eight. We had been consulting him for decades and he had seen me being born. The old man listened patiently to her, asked me a few questions, and examined my mouth and stomach as he always did, irrespective of what ailment anyone went to him for. He pronounced that I was perfectly healthy, except for a mild attention deficit disorder which would go away with time. Deep in my heart, I knew it wasn’t that simple.

I developed a vicious temper around the time I entered my teens. I could feel the anger building up inside me periodically, seeking an outlet. It was almost a physical sensation. After that, it was merely a question of finding someone to pick a fight with. I was bigger and heavier than most of the boys my age so I rarely had any trouble overcoming my opponents. Once I beat up a classmate so badly that he had to be hospitalised. His parents went ahead and filed an FIR with the local police. That wasn’t a major problem but my father had to personally come to school and meet the principal to prevent me from being expelled.

What took the heat away from my behavior was the fact that I was a champion sportsman.

I had more strength, speed and agility than anyone in my class. During our annual athletics meet, I would finish first in all the sprints. I was the youngest member of our school swimming team, competing against boys two years older and usually winning. On the football field, my solo runs became legendary. I would dribble past any number of the opposition and where I couldn’t, I would push or kick my way through. Referees rarely called fouls against me.

The only sport I hated was cricket. I didn’t have the patience for it, or the skill. When I tried my hand at batting, I would keep missing the ball. The first ball I bowled during a school match turned out to be a beamer which hit the batsman in the stomach and put him out of action for the rest of the game.

I became acutely aware of girls at a time when all the other boys would generally either annoy or ignore them. There were good reasons for that. At that age, there was a marked difference in maturity and sexual consciousness between the sexes. Many of the girls had already reached puberty while most of the boys had squeaky voices and only the faint smudge of facial hair. To top it all, several girls were taller than the average boy, which gave them an air of superiority.

However, I got a lot of female attention. I would often get asked out for dates, which meant going for a walk or having an ice-cream together. I knew that my raw physicality and alpha male aggression were attractive to the opposite sex. And I wasn’t bad-looking either.

But whenever I spoke to or sat next to a girl, something would go off inside my head. I would feel this irresistible urge to reach out and touch her. It didn’t strike me then that she probably wouldn’t have minded it. Sometimes, I would abruptly walk away if I felt that I couldn’t control myself any longer. To prevent what I assumed would be serious embarrassment, I started to avoid the company of girls as much as possible.

I couldn’t get them out of my mind, though. I hadn’t fully understood what sex was yet but every night, I played with myself, picking a random girl to fantasise about. It didn’t matter whether they were fat or thin, pretty or ugly, short or tall. I suppose the only subconscious preference I had was for fair skin.

The first time I had an orgasm was when I imagined a naked girl lying on a bed, blood spouting out of a dozen wounds on her body and seeping into the white sheet beneath her. I have no idea why that image came to my mind but it sent me into a sexual frenzy, much to my own astonishment. After that, I knew I could only climax when the girl in my thoughts died violently. There would always be a shadowy figure doing the actual killing, either by strangling or slashing her with a knife.

It was only much later that I realised the figure was me.

I had never felt as calm in all my life as I did after killing Bholi. There was no remorse, no guilt. Just immeasurable relief. In that single moment, I knew both my disease and its medicine. The beast trapped inside me had paced about restlessly for far too long, craving freedom. It had finally been released.

There was another destiny awaiting me, though. One that I had been born for. I wanted that desperately too but it would take hard work, patience and skill. I was ready for it. After all, I didn’t have to kill the beast, just tame it to follow my orders.

43

Neel

We held a council of war. And decided it was time to leave Goa. It was imperative for each of us to get back to our respective lives. The professional, social and administrative backlogs had to be cleared without further delay.

Omar had a film shoot coming up. And I’m sure he was being sorely missed by the high society of Mumbai. I guess he would also have to do something about the creditors who were after his blood. Sara had been fretting about her store for the past couple of days. It was her passion. I suddenly wondered if she had been seeing someone before coming to Goa.

My own case was less urgent. I had resigned my commission in the Army. It was accepted without much hassle. I had already completed my eight years of obligatory service. Looking back, I didn’t really regret my stint. There had been some memorable moments. But one part of me felt as if I had just been let out of jail.

We agreed to get together again as soon as possible. None of us wanted to drop what we had started. We owed it to Rachel to complete her investigation. And find out who had killed her.

Omar was the first to go. Sara and I dropped him to the airport in the Innova.

I took the wheel on our way back. Sara sidled over and put her head on my shoulder. It felt great. We had been playing it really cool in front of Omar. I had noticed him giving us speculative looks. Maybe he still suspected something.

Sara put her hand on my thigh.

‘Sara, I’m driving…’

Her hand moved higher. ‘So?’

‘I can’t concentrate on the road if you do that.’

She began to pull down the zipper of my Levi’s. ‘Do what?’

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was just about managing to keep the Innova on a straight course. Luckily, there was little traffic.

Sara slid her hand inside. She smiled.

I hadn’t felt this horny in years. It was like I was thirteen again instead of thirty.

‘I’ll stop somewhere…’

She put her face close to my ear and whispered, ‘No, don’t. Just keep driving.’

When a girl’s got her hand inside your pants, there’s no option but to listen to her.

Sara began to expertly pull down my jeans. I lifted myself off the seat to help her. The Innova careened to the left. I managed to turn the wheel before we went off the road.

I croaked, ‘Sara, we’ll have an accident!’

Without a word, she moved her hand away. I figured she had finally realised what a risky thing we were doing. A wave of disappointment washed over me.

But I was wrong.

Sara had been adjusting her position. She now bent low over my lap. I felt her warm, moist breath on me. I continued driving. I’m not quite sure how. My eyes and hands and feet guided the vehicle forward. Even though I didn’t seem to have any conscious control over them.

A short while later, my body insisted that it could take no more. I was ready to explode. Sara lifted her head and looked out of the windscreen. ‘Take the next left. It goes to the beach.’

The beach was small and deserted. Fringed with palm trees. I guess you wouldn’t find it on a tourist map of Goa. The road petered out into a dead end. I gratefully stopped the Innova.

We tumbled out. Sara took me by the hand. We lay down on a dry patch of sand just out of reach of the breaking waves. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. No one was. I was beyond caring anyway.

We didn’t bother taking off our clothes. Our bodies were already at fever pitch. Sara pushed me down until I was spread-eagled on the sand. We made love with a fierce urgency. The sounds and smells of the sea played in the background. I felt like I was flying.

I had tried the cocktail. The real thing was way, way better. When it was over, we lay on our backs. And stared up at the cobalt sky, dotted with stars.

Without looking at her, I said, ‘You still haven’t answered my question, Sara.’

She remained silent.

I went on. ‘I never thought I would recover from what happened or be able to feel any emotion other than grief. Grief worse than the most terrible physical pain you can imagine.’

She held my hand and gripped it tightly.

‘But these last few days with you have given me a ray of hope. Hope that I can live normally again, that my heart can begin to heal.’

I turned towards her. Her cheeks glistened.

‘Neel, I…’ She paused.

I reached out and wiped her tears. ‘Sara, please don’t say no. It would be perfect; you and I. Getting together after knowing each other half our lives.’

‘Neel…I love you.’

‘I love you too. Always have…’

‘I don’t want you to get hurt again.’ Even in the semi-darkness, I saw the sadness in her eyes. ‘Neel…I don’t know how much longer I have left to live.’

44

Sara

Dear, sweet Neel.
He didn’t say a word after that, just held me close in his arms. I think he had sensed there was something wrong with me but wasn’t prepared for what I told him. He didn’t probe further.

It was true that I loved him. More than I had loved anyone else since…
Roy
.

I simply didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t deserve Neel, that was for sure.
Not after everything that had happened.
But it would be so easy to say yes now and let the future worry about itself. My heart ached at the thought of the happiness that was so close and yet so far!

I was worried about Neel. He was very vulnerable after what had happened to his family. His mind was so ravaged that anything could push him over the edge. I couldn’t figure out whether losing me now or later was worse for him. It was complicated either way.

Anyway, he had left already so the decision was automatically deferred. I would have to face it sooner or later, though.

I had stayed back in Goa for an extra day. There was someone I needed to meet.

When I opened the door and saw him standing there, I had mixed feelings. There had been good and bad times with him, the good being really good and the bad really bad. I was seeing him after ages but he had hardly changed.

I knew every contour of that face very well. It was full of strength and vitality. The forehead was broad, which gave the appearance of a receding hairline, even though he was blessed with a thick mop of dark curls. The nose was aquiline, a legacy that had passed down three generations. The chin jutted arrogantly and the eyes were black as night, inscrutable but warning of hidden danger.

I gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek. It was very platonic.
I remembered a time when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

‘How are you, Sara?’ He still spoke in that slow, soft monotone.

‘Not too bad. Come on in.’

I led him to the rear patio and we sat down, looking out at the sea. It was evening but there were still a couple of hours for the sun to set. I asked the cook to make a pot of Darjeeling tea and fresh onion pakoras.

I smiled and said, ‘It was good to hear from you after all these years.’

‘Things have been really hectic so I’m taking a break here. It was such a pleasant coincidence that you happened to be in Goa at the same time.’

‘Yeah, I read about that.’

‘This is a really nice place you’ve got for yourself, Sara.’

I didn’t say anything. It seemed pointless to mention that it was part of my divorce haul.
I’m sure he would have guessed as much.

‘How are the others? The only one I’ve met anytime recently is Omar.’

‘You know Rachel’s dead, right?’

‘Yes, of course.’ He shook his head. ‘She was the last person I would think of as being suicidal.’

‘She didn’t commit suicide,’ I paused. ‘She was murdered.’

There was a brief flicker in his eyes. ‘Murdered?’

I took a deep breath and told him everything. More or less. He listened with a blank look on his face. He had never been the expressive, emotional type anyway.

When I had finished, he said, ‘This is shocking. I can hardly believe it.’

The tea and pakoras arrived. I poured out two cups, and the rich aroma of orange pekoe wafted to my nostrils. Both of us had it black, without milk or sugar, just the way it’s meant to be. But he barely touched the pakoras. I figured he was really disturbed by what I had said.

‘Can you help us? If anyone can, it’s you.’

‘What do you want me to do, Sara? This is a matter for the police.’

‘The problem is that they’ve bungled every step of the way. It’s almost as if they don’t want to clear up this case.’

He took a sip of the tea and said, ‘You think they might be protecting someone?’

I reflected. That possibility hadn’t struck me. ‘I…don’t think so. It’s plain incompetence. They just haven’t been able to join the dots.’

‘Have you told the police what you’ve found out?’

‘Not everything,’ I admitted.

‘Why not?’

‘Well, that detective was very intimidating. He practically threatened to arrest us because he thought we were interfering with his investigation. If we go to him now with more information, he’ll definitely put us behind bars,’ I sighed. ‘What do you expect us to do?’

He reached out and held my hand. ‘I can imagine how difficult all this has been for you.’

I flinched at his touch but didn’t move my hand away.
We did go back a long way, after all.

After a moment, he said, ‘Let me see what I can do.’