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‘Kasturi!’ she said, sounding very worried. My heart skipped a beat. ‘Dad is missing.’
‘Again?’ I wailed, slapping a hand on my forehead.
‘Yes...’
‘Check the garden?’ I suggested.
‘He’s not there.’
‘The terrace?’
‘No, not there either!’
‘Umm … oh god … the shed?’
‘No, not there!’
A nagging suspicion reared its ugly head. ‘Is his car in the garage?’ I asked.
‘No,’ said Mum after a pause, sounding in awe of what Dad was capable of. Doctors had strictly told Dad to not drive for another two weeks at least.
‘Did you call him?’
‘About fifteen times!’
‘And?’
‘He’s not taking the call obviously! What if … what if something has happened? I don’t know why I ever married your father! You know, when your Dadi-Dada came to our house with the proposal, that very day one man had proposed marriage to me. If only I had… ’
‘Bye Mum, will call you in a bit,’ I said, cutting in. I knew the whole story already.
I dialled Dad’s number and he picked up in an instant.
‘Dad,’ I said, exasperated. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Driving!’ he said jubilantly.
‘Why?’ I asked, shaking my head incredulously.
‘Just wanted to check if everything was working all right,’ he said. I knew he was not talking about the car and I could not help but smile.
‘Is it?’
‘Of course,’ he said happily.
I slumped into the seat of the car, a wide grin plastered across my face as I dialled Mum’s number to tell her that Dad was all right.
I waited for Mum to pick up the phone and thought about the one thing I had to do.
Get Purva back.
26
11 June 2013, Delhi.
I might be rather thick most of the time but twenty-one unanswered calls are enough to make it abundantly clear to me that Purva does not wish to talk.
Why am I surprised? Did I expect him to welcome me with a jaimala after all the drama I have done? Pitajee told me today that he thinks I have the mental agility of a soap dish. I think I will kill him. Yes, that will be the noble thing to do.
