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Word Count : 2100

Audio Theme : Vals | Istanbullu Gelin |

https://youtu.be/6MRv4oHslSQ

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31  |  The Right One & The Destined One

Straightening her back, she turned her head around to stare at the rainy vista outside the window. The harsh pelting of raindrops had ceased just an hour ago, and due to this, the weather had turned chilly and the zephyrs chillier.

"Any photographs?" She voiced out faintly.

"I beg your pardon, ma'am?" Bakhtawar looked at her in confusion, unable to grasp the sudden change in her demeanor and failing to hear her words at the same time.

"Pictures, Bakhtawar; can you find me any pictures of Tejas Pandit?"

He replied with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Alright, let me check."

She nodded and continued, "Also, how did Tejas come to this stage? Under what circumstances was he left to live as a vegetable?"

Bakhtawar carried on with the work at hand while answering her questions simultaneously. "He went missing early in the morning on May 1, 2014, forcing the Pandits to file a missing person report that day at night itself. Eventually, the police issued a missing-person report twenty-four hours after Tejas's disappearance due to the existing government procedures. They began with the search, but nothing was found on May 2 as well. In due course, the senior Dogra—Mr. Giriraj Dogra—stepped up to help his most trusted confidante, Devaraj Pandit, find his grandson. And that's exactly what happened: on May 3, 2014, at around six in the evening, some of the Dogra security personnel found Tejas bloodied and battered inside a shallow trench, one kilometer away from the Pandit household. He was immediately rushed to the hospital. With a diagnosis of severe brain damage, multiple broken bones, broken ribs, and internally injured kidneys and intestines, seventeen-year-old Tejas Pandit was finally declared a vegetable on the tenth day of his admission to the hospital. The Pandits were devastated. Manoramaa must have been around fourteen or fifteen at that time. No matter how much the Dogras or the police department tried, the reason behind Tejas's current state is still a mystery to date." Ceasing the quick movements of his digits on the keyboard, Bakhtawar stopped with his monologue too. Pirouetting the laptop around to face its screen towards his boss, he said, "Here; this is his picture."

Tightly clinching her fingers together on the table, Hinduja shifted her eyes from her assistant's visage to focus her gaze on the laptop screen in front of her.

Thick yet sharply arched eyebrows, hooded brown eyes screaming mischief, a thin nose, thick lips upturned to form a faint smile, cropped straight black hair, a wheatish skin tone, and a face of maturity with hints of boyish charm. In the photograph, sitting next to Tejas Pandit was another person—a girl.

Almost immediately, her razor-sharp gaze softened.

"That girl sitting next to him is Manoramaa." Bakhtawar interrupted. And instinctively, her gaze turned blank again.

"She has changed." She whispered.

"Most people do, under the weight of adversity."

Nodding her head, she rotated the laptop around and picked up the Tupperware bottle kept next to her PC. "Send me the details of the hospital Tejas Pandit is admitted to, along with Manoramaa Pandit's current residential address."

Their gazes locked as Bakhtawar offered a sharp nod. And then he immediately got up from the chair he was seated in and started packing his laptop inside his laptop sleeve. But then something dawned upon him as he glanced at his boss once again.

"By the way, it's May already. And in the month of August, it's her death anniversary." He muttered.

Glancing at him, Hinduja smiled. "So?"

Bakhtawar sighed. "Come on, Hina! Have you talked with Vijaypath Bhai?"

Hinduja chuckled. "So, you finally dropped that 'ma'am' thing? Great! I like it."

Bakhtawar rolled his eyes. "Hina, please; I am serious. You know how sensitive Vijaypath Bhai is, in reality."

Hinduja, in return, heaved an even louder sigh. "Nineteen years, Bakhtawar; it's been nineteen years since that buffoon left our parental home, initially for medical school and then for his profession. And till date, he still thinks that I know nothing about the things that have transpired in his personal life over the past two decades or are still transpiring in the present time. He is still unaware of the fact that I know about Alizeh or the fact that I know that Alizeh was your sister."

"Cousin-sister." He corrected.

"A sister, nonetheless." She shrugged her shoulders. Scratching her forehead as a comforting gesture, she continued. "Sometimes life dispenses you with chances, Bakhtawar. The first chance becomes your right one, while the second chance becomes your destined one. Alizeh was Bhai's right one, but, lamentably, never his destined one."

Bakhtawar grinned, half amused, half surprised. "Since when have you started giving credence to illogical concepts like fortunes and destinies?"

Slowly lifting her left hand from her lap, she glanced at the wedding ring around her ring finger and the Sankha-Pola enclosing her svelte wrist, her gaze soft and fond. "Since the day I got married," she whispered gently.

Bakhtawar's grin widened even more. "And you think that, perhaps, Vijay Bhai might get a second chance, too?"

Hinduja chuckled. "Who knows? Maybe someone somewhere out there is waiting for her second chance too."

"Alright then, I'll get going."

Hinduja smiled. "Okay."

***

"Look here, little potato!" Vijaypath poked his nephew's rotund belly.

The said little nephew frowned while caressing his round tummy with his shot chubby fingers while shoving a piece of vanilla-flavored chocolate-chip-infused cake that his father had baked some days ago into his mouth.

"Stop making that face!" Vijaypath Rao poked his nephew's stomach once again. "Or else, your mother will think that I have fed you shit instead of cake!"

Regardless, Anirudh Dogra continued munching on the piece of sweet delight in his tiny right hand.

Vijaypath Rao sighed. "Anyway, look here now. If at all any hotshot dude in the Karate Academy bullies you, you'll show him who you are. Okay?"

In response, Anirudh Dogra shoved the last piece of cake into his small, tubby mouth.

"Ayyo! Tirupathi Balaji! What should I do of you, you round little potato?! All you do is eat all day long. Now listen carefully." Saying so in frustration, he picked the toddler up to make him stand on his feet. And then, pointing at the child's crotch area, he asked, "You know what this thing is called, isn't it? Have mamma and papa ever taught you about this?"

The toddler bobbed his head up and down like the pendulum of a wall clock.

"Nunu!" He blabbered while clapping his hands.

Vijaypath Rao clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Aiyyo! Your generation is such a wasted generation already! You people call it 'nunu'?! Back in our time, we used to call it 'nuni'.  Oh, how beautiful those good old days were!" Coming out of the memories of his diaper days, he carried on with his words of wisdom. "Anyway, listen to me now. If someone tries to touch you on your 'nunu', you will not let them touch you at all, okay? And you'll immediately come back home and let your mamma and papa know about it—no matter what kind of alien gibberish you speak. Yeah?"

The kid bobbed his head like a pendulum once again.

"Secondly, if some nincompoop tries to bully you, you know what to do, don't you?" Taking hold of the toddler's right leg, Vijaypath motioned it upwards, imitating a kick in the air. "You'll kick him on his nunu. The nunu is the place where the sun doesn't shine, and little potato, if at all you do kick someone on their nunu, let alone the sun, nothing else would ever shine on their nunu again. Also, don't ever do this to a girl, okay? Girls are mostly kind and cute, letting aside a few witches of some different species." He finished his speech with a thoughtful mien.

Correcting the light creases on the pristine white Karate Gi the kid was dressed in, he said, "Your parents took early leaves today so that she could drop you at the academy personally, since it will be your first day at the academy today. They must be here, anytime now. Come, let's watch Munna Bhai MBBS on Netflix."

The kid glowered at his uncle, knowing what was to come next.

Around an hour later, Mahadevan looked on as his wife entered the living room of their home after placing her set of house keys inside the wooden cabinet attached to the wall next to the main door.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Just a little." She smiled.

Getting up from the sofa, he poured her a glass of water from the jug kept on the center table and then passed it on to her. "Vijay Bhai and Ani are watching some movies in his playroom. How about you freshen up first, and then we drop that brat in the Karate Academy?"

Gulping down the entire glass of water in one go, she replied. "Sounds good. I'll go and take a bath then."

His lips turned up infinitesimally as he watched her walk towards the playroom instead of their bedroom.

Stepping inside her son's Winnie the Pooh-themed playroom, Hinduja focused her gaze on the uncle-nephew duo, both of whom had contradictory expressions, veiling their respective faces. Vijaypath continued singing along to the lyrics of the song Munna Bhai MBBS, which was playing on the tablet in front of them, while Anirudh looked sullen because of the auditory torture his tiny eardrums were going through.

Hinduja exhaled. She couldn't blame her poor little kid, could she? Absolutely not!

Her brother's singing skills were comparable to Sunny Deol's dancing skills. God forbid, even Tansen must be crying in the holy heavens at the moment.

In the meantime, Anirudh's gaze finally fell upon his mother, who was standing next to the door sill with her arms crossed across her chest.

"Mamma!" He squealed.

Hinduja chuckled while slowly making her way towards her kid. "Laddu!" Vijaypath, too, shifted his attention from the dancing figure of Circuit on the tablet screen to his sister.

"Mamma!"

Quickly collecting the child's squishy, short, and plump frame in her dainty arms, she twirled him in the air. Loud giggles reverberated in the playroom as Vijaypath affectionately gazed at his sister and bratty nephew.

Years ago, he had imagined this very scene unfolding in front of his eyes with a certain someone from the past. Alas! That fanciful image in his mind from the past must always remain a dream now--- and forever.

Eventually, the laughing, twirling, tickling, and giggling session of the mother-son duo came to an end as Hinduja shifted her attention towards her brother.

"Bhai, I need to talk to you."

His eyebrows knitted together as he pondered her words for a few seconds and replied. "Alright, go ahead."

Handing over a Doraemon squishy toy to the giggly toddler in her slender arms, Hinduja adjusted the pallu of her saree. "Do you have any aesthetic surgeons in your contacts?" She questioned.

"An Aesthetic Surgeon?" The crease between his brows deepened further as Vijaypath Rao stared at his sister with perplexity. "What do you need an aesthetic surgeon's contact information for? What's going on, Molu?" He shot back.

Hinduja rolled her eyes while simpering in disbelief. "Decrease the speed of the horses running in your overly active brain, Bhai. I am asking this because I need it for a friend. Her husband has already lost all his hair at the age of twenty-eight, so they are in search of a good aesthetic surgeon." Scratching the back of her arm in order to subdue the tickly feeling caused by Anirudh's incessant tickling, she pushed on with the ongoing conversation." So, now, can you tell me? Do you know any good aesthetic surgeons?"

Alleviated of the worries coursing through his heart, Vijaypath nodded. "Yeah, I do. There is this one guy who works as an aesthetic surgeon in Dhanvantri Hospital: Dr. Chandrakant Bhullar. I'll send you his contact information. You can forward it to your friends later on. Yeah?" He smiled.

"Okay, Bhai. Thank you." Saying so, she handed over Anirudh to him. "I'll go and freshen up a bit. Then we can all go together and drop him off at the academy."

"Okay." Vijaypath answered back while relocating his focus back on the movie playing on the tablet. 

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