tales of Suchita

The daydreams had been at a bare minimum thanks to all the excitement this new academic year had brought for Radha. Suddenly his real world had seemed infinitely more challenging than anything he could dream. This change of pace had invigorated him and he had really enjoyed hunting for his thief.

But things had taken a nasty turn and he was no longer enjoying himself. That events would turn so ugly was a shock to his system he didn’t know how to handle. Radha had prided himself in being able to read the human mind. He had thought he understood human psyche and thus would become a great detective one day. All his confidence, everything he had learnt lay in shambles around him.

He was so demotivated and the fact his friends weren’t speaking to him made him so lethargic in class he couldn’t even find it in him to pay attention in Anjum miss’s class.

When the bell finally rang, it was a relief because now he could wallow without concern but it was also torture to see Mayur and Sagar trying to make friends with Prinyanka’s gang. They kept glancing back at him – either to rescue them or join them Radha couldn’t be sure.

Had Radha been in a good mood, he perhaps would have helped out his friends. But since he wasn’t feeling all that friendly, he ignored them and left the classroom. He walked aimlessly, dodging the students running around on sugar rush, playing, fighting, planning. He reached Parshu uncle’s table and sat on the chair kept there. For once Parshu uncle did not shoo him away.

Inevitably, since his mind had little else to think about, it wandered back to his three prime suspects. He had more or less ruled out Mayur and Sagar – they had been with him for too long. It couldn’t be them. Priyanka seemed like the perfect candidate but he hadn’t been able to provide a clear motive for her. They had only recently met…if not her then who – Mayur or Sagar? But it couldn’t possibly be them? Hadn’t he already decided it couldn’t be them? But then it had to be someone close to him…had to be…no? And round and round the information went in his head till he felt sick and tired.

“Hi,” said a meek voice next to him.

Radha looked up, inordinately happy to see Sagar. “Hi.”

“I just want to tell you that you are still my friend.”

“Thanks Sagar.” He saw his friend shuffling uncomfortably and patted the chair next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I should tell you something…no…I need to tell you something.”

Radha nodded, his heart thudding.

Sagar removed the feather from his pocket. It had wrinkled and its vanes were sticking to each other. It no longer looked like the beautiful feather he had hidden. “I didn’t throw it away. I…it was so pretty…I hid it.”

Radha took the feather from his hand and said, “I’m not sure how this can help us.”

Sagar shrugged. Then he dug into his pocket and removed an envelope. It was tied together with a beautiful golden coloured silk ribbon. He handed it to Radha. This was in a better condition than the feather but not by much. “This is for you. It was kept on your table when I came to class. I was waiting for a good time to give it to you. I didn’t think you would want anyone else to know.”

Radha snatched the envelope out of his hand but instead of tearing through the ribbon, he abruptly paused. He turned over the envelope in his hand, thinking. This looked too detailed and neat for it to be a boy’s handiwork. Priyanka…but then just because she was the only girl he knew didn’t automatically make her guilty. Besides he didn’t even know if she could be this artistic.

He shook himself. He could think about his maddening suspect list later. First the envelope. He carefully untied the ribbon, feeling the soft texture. The paper too was a soft yellow hue, scented if he wasn’t mistaken, though it was faint now.

He opened the envelope and pulled out the letter – good paper. Definitely a girl, he thought. May not be Priyanka but…the firecrackers…stop! he said to himself.

He opened the letter and began to read.

My love, have you still not been able to identify me? I leave you so many clues and you who calls himself a protégé of the great Mr. Holmes hasn’t been able to figure out who I am? Am I this good then? Even as I bare my heart to you in this note, do you not know who I am?

Do you not see?

Shocked at what he read, feeling afraid and uneasy, Radha tore the letter into small pieces and threw them in the bin near Parshu uncle’s table. Without giving Sagar a second glance, he ran away.

Sagar on the other hand was wearing a satisfied smirk…a smirk that said he had gotten the exact response he had hoped to get.

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This is the eighteenth post in the series. To know more about Radha, click here.