tales of Suchita

Sagar removed the keys from his bag and paused in front of the main door. He took a deep breath and let it out. He inserted the key and lowered his eyes. He closed the door, softly, so no one in the house would get disturbed. He lifted his eyes a fraction when he realized the house was dark. Oh, was his mother having one of her episodes?

He turned to the kitchen and found a plate of food kept on the platform. He smiled broadly but quickly schooled his features to look impassive. This time though he kept his eyes up. The dark house meant his father wasn’t home yet.

After finishing his lunch, he cleared up, all the while careful of not making any sounds. Sounds set off his mother into frenzy and he had no idea what mood she was in currently. He went to his room, happy no one had found out as yet that he had returned. Though it was a hollow solace – they’d look at the time and would know whether he was back or not – he cherished these moments of peace whether long or short.

He kept his bag aside. He would get to his homework once his father returned. He had learnt the hard way that the best way to keep his father’s disciplining hand at bay was to appear busy, especially with homework. Sagar sat on his bed and removed the feather from his pocket. It looked worse than before but he did not see that. What he saw was a beautiful feather that had been brutally treated and though the scars were visible, it hadn’t dimmed its shine.

“Why do you have that?” said a hoarse voice from his bedroom door.

“Because he didn’t want it,” he explained patiently, without turning. He stroked the feather lovingly. “How’s mom?”

“Asleep for now,” said Chandra, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. She was tiptoeing. If their mother woke up while Chandra was away, there would be havoc – something Sagar and she avoided as much as possible. They didn’t want their father to complain that they hadn’t been taking care of their mother while he was away.

“What do you mean he didn’t want it? Did you even give it to him?” She tried to snatch the feather from his hand but he was too quick for her. Sagar had always been the quick one – he had to be when his father got angry.

“Chandra…” he said warningly and his sister backed away raising her hands in supplication. “Have you eaten lunch?”

“Do not treat me like a child,” she spat angrily. “You forget I am older and smarter than you.”

“And yet it has been me who has been executing all of your pranks, no?”

“Pranks? Is that what you call it? Please they have been so much more than mere pranks. They have been pieces of art!”

“Chandra I think you need to stop.”

“Brother let me decide what I need to do or not do. Did you give him the letter?” When Sagar nodded, she jumped, squealed and came to sit next to him. Holding his hands she asked, “And what did he say?”

“He doesn’t care Chandra. I have told you this before also, he doesn’t even remember you anymore! Besides there’s Priya…”

“Stop,” she thundered, getting up from the bed. She slapped Sagar hard across his face.

Sagar yelped then got up and sat down on the floor. Another lesson he had learnt early on – how to avoid blows. With his sister who liked to use her hands, he used height to his advantage. With his father who preferred his legs, he used distance.

“Why are you angry with me?”

“Because you, Sagar, are a pathetic excuse of a human being.” She breathed through her nose, holding the bridge in an attempt to calm her anger. “Does he even know it is me?”

And though he knew he shouldn’t, he grinned. And though he knew he shouldn’t be saying the next few words, he said them nonetheless. “No. He tore the letter. He was disgusted…”

Chandra slapped her brother again.

“He was disgusted by the letter. He threw it in the dustbin,” he continued relentlessly, unable to tell his mouth to shut up even though his brain could see the danger ahead.

She wanted to slap him again but stopped. He already had a line forming on his right cheek and she didn’t want him to miss school because she couldn’t control her temper. Unfortunately, she needed her brother to go to school so she could, with his help, put her plan into motion. None of them knew the real story behind why she had to change schools and part of the story was that she wasn’t allowed to enter Green Heights High School ever again.

She grabbed him by the collar and said, “Why do you think our father has been good to you for the past week? You think it’s because you are doing well in school? No it’s because I have been saving you from him so you can go to school and do my work. Don’t you forget that Sagar. You are here because of me, because I as your big sister have always protected you.”

“Bullshit,” he whispered. “You don’t give a shit about me.”

Suddenly both of them heard a dull groan. Chandra let go of his collar and Sagar picked up the discarded feather and shoved it into his pocket. He straightened his shirt and hair and wiped his face.

When the door opened, they saw the silhouette of their mother. A bent shape, looking like it wore all the sorrows of the world.

“What’s happening here?”

“Nothing mom; just asking Sagar about school.”

“How are you feeling mom?”

“Oh what do I tell you Sagar…I’m so ill…nobody understands what…Sagar , where is Sagar? I had him in my…” her voice faded as she turned away.

Chandra glared at him She said tightly, “We will finish this conversation tonight.”

Sagar lowered his eyes and nodded.

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