“Assalamvalekum, Khaala, is Aarusha at home?” I enquired.
The woman eyed me nervously for a moment. It was difficult to read her expression.
“W… Who are you?” she asked.
“I am her friend, Salim,” I said.
I saw the colour drain from the woman's face. Her knees buckled down and she held the door for support, the wooden frame hardly supporting her heavy body.
“We met yesterday night at a pub and as it was getting late, I dropped her here, actually the street below. I was passing by this way again in the morning, so thought I would drop in and greet her,” I said, trying to explain.
“What do you want?” the woman asked me in a choked voice.
“Nothing really. Just wanted to meet her,” I said.
“Come,” the woman said straightening up and grabbing a scarf from behind the door.
“Where?” I asked surprised.
“Aarusha's house,” the woman answered, tightening the scarf around her head.
“She doesn't live here?” I asked.
“No,” the woman said.
“Then?” I enquired.
“You'll see,” the woman said, locking the door behind her.
Only Aarusha could provide me the answers to last night. She was the only witness and hence I had to go along with the woman. She didn't seem to respond to my incessant queries as we descended the stairs.
“I have a bike,” I said as we came out of the locality. Before long, we were speeding away to a place only she knew and I had no choice but to follow her directions. The woman sat behind me just like Aarusha did the other night and I couldn't help noticing the similarities between the two.
Twenty minutes later, she made me halt at a place that seemed strangely familiar. As soon as I braked, my eyes registered the paanwaalahon the opposite side looking at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Give me a minute,” I requested the woman after hurriedly parking the bike and crossed the street.
“You also have a shop at Kings Road?” I enquired, tapping the Bihari on the shoulder.
“Kings Road? No, I can't afford a shop here. This has been my humble location since the past fifteen years,” the paan-waalahsaid, showing me his stained teeth.
“Huh? Anyway, why were you looking at me like that?” I asked.
“You're the same guy from last night, who was smiling at me, aren't you?” he asked back.
“Hmm, you have a good memory but you said you don't…” I was saying when he interrupted with a chuckle.
“Of course, I do. It's not often I see guys wearing shiny jackets and leather boots enter the graveyard.”
“Graveyard?” I repeated and turned to look at the opposite side of the road. Blue walls, covered with hand-painted sketches, nonsensical graffiti, national slogans strewn randomly parting to accommodate a big dome shaped gate through which I could see heaps of tombs.
I could see the woman eyeing me patiently from a distance. Something heavy seeped into my chest as I held my head, shaking it violently, trying to come to terms with a missing memory. I punched the side of my head in frustration, seeking an explanation for the events.
I don't remember when I crossed the street and joined the woman. She didn't even as much give me a second glance but just acknowledged me with a “You want to meet her, don't you?” I nodded and she walked towards the gates. I hesitated and then followed.
Aarusha must have come to the graveyard to visit long gone relatives; I answered the voice inside my head. That was what Abbu did during Eid as well.
“Why have you brought me to a graveyard?” I asked.
“You'll know soon.” We walked on the damp mud, taking care not to step on the bones beneath our feet. Graves of all kinds surrounded us, some ancient and withering like the remains of the people inside while a few polished till their marble stones glistened. Some small enough to accommodate one adult arm, testament to a life cut short and others, wide enough to hold the sleep of generations of families. The wild grass and shrubs soon engulfed us as we rounded a corner under the afternoon sun.
The woman looked neither here nor there but kept walking ahead; her face bearing a look of silent determination. She trudged along stepping on dead leaves and bones and halted at the end of the third lane, making me almost bump into her frame.
The Other Side
139 It was as if she was expecting it. She caught hold of my hand lest I fell down on a grave. Her firm fingers reflected the same kind of look when her eyes met mine.
“I still don't understand why we are here!” I said, breaking the silence.
“You wanted to meet your Aarusha, right? So I brought you to her abode,” she said.
“Huh? And where would that be? On those coconut trees?” I mocked, the anger evident in my voice.