Missing - Episode 10

Tete-A-Ten
Read Episode  9










Daruwala’s residence.
Greater Kailash, 
New Delhi.

Fanus Mistry sat down on the carpet near the teak wood bookshelf on the corner of Cyrus’s room. Boman Daruwala had beckoned his son’s only friend in desperation.

There was a poster of a “Blue Morpho”, one of the most beautiful butterflies in the tropical South Americas, just above the bookshelf. With a wingspan of eight inches of rich blue color blended with black and dull brown shades over a porcelain white background made for a stunning visual.

However, what always caught his attention was the little reddish brown caterpillar on the bottom left corner of the poster, with a caption that read “What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly”.
Boman Daruwala walked across the room and sat on the deck chair in front of the bookshelf.

“So son, are you going to talk or not?” He asked.

Fanus kept on staring at the poster after momentarily lowering his eyes and said “what do you want to know?”. Boman Daruwala slumped back into the chair.

“Tell me everything, you’ve been his friend for so long, tell me, where is he, where could he possibly go, who else did he meet with, did anyone want to harm him, did he hate someone, speak up and say something Fanus dikra”

Fanus Mistry offered no response.

“What are you drunk or what man? Why are you not sharing anything? Are you hiding something? Is something wrong? Tell me the truth. Tell me now”.

Fanus kept quiet again.

“Dikra, I don’t understand this silence, don’t you want to find your friend? Aren’t you worried? And if you are worried , what are you doing about it? Is there something we need to know? Your aunty and I have run out of ideas - but I’m not able to find what seems to be the problem?”

Fanus looked away without offering a response. Unable to get through to Fanus, Boman Daruwala got agitated.

“Ever since school you both have been friends, you know he is the shy type, he’ll never talk to me, and it turns out you are the same. What is it with you boys? Did you guys have a fight? Tell me,Is it about a girl ? Is there a girl in his life, did she dump him, is he heart broken, is that it, or is it something else, come on speak.Its been two days and we have no clue, no phone call, except for this message” Boman said raising his voice.

“I don’t know uncle Boman” he said.

“Then what do you know,  Boman thundered, dislodging his bifocals momentarily.

“Its not a girl. He said keeping his voice down.

“Its not a girl, what do you mean its not a girl, is it a ...?” Boman stopped as he realized the implication of what Fanus said.

Fanus looked up and reconfirmed his fears ”yes, it is a boy Uncle Boman”

Boman Daruwala rolled over his eyes as realization began to blur with each passing second in the quietness of the room. Boman clutched the armrest of the chair trying to check his emotional outburst.

“So he’s gay - my son is a homosexual, what a cruel joke. We will have the whole community laugh at us. He has shamed us. Let me get hold of him and I will fix him. He needs to get back to his senses.” Boman Daruwala shook his head in anger.
Fanus, expected the reaction and again, chose to remain silent. A few moments later Boman spoke “why didn’t he tell me?” Boman’s lowered his voice down to a whisper.

“He always did, Uncle Boman, he always did, its you who never heard, its you who never saw, its you who never cared to understand him, he just wanted to be loved the way he is, you are so insensitive”. He said.

“What nonsense is this, are you telling me I don’t know my son, are you telling me you know him better than I do,? Give me one good reason why should he be unhappy, I have given him the best of luxuries that my income could provide, he has always enjoyed freedom, he has never had to ask me for anything, how do you even have the audacity to say I am insensitive, what is it that you know and I don’t, how dare you say I don’t understand my child, who can love my son more than me?” said Boman as he stood up from the chair.

“You don’t get it Uncle Boman, do you?”

Fanus Mistry finally looked up and saw the “Blue Morpho” partially peeping out behind

Boman Daruwala and said “no one loves him the way I do, because no knows how much he is hurting right now, just the way I do. Because no one knows him the way I do.”

Sherry Daruwala just walked into the room to catch the last bit of what Fanus had to say.

She didn’t take a step after that. The couple looked at each other in a  momentary lapse of reasoning.

Fanus covered his face to hide the tears. The room was charged with multiple emotions yet not a word was exchanged. The only noise came from the air conditioner vent periodically vibrating.

“And two days earlier, he was …” Fanus couldn’t speak as tears burst out.

Sherry asked “What happened two days earlier? Tell me, tell me now , speak up, what happened to my son?”

“He was raped”

• “Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”

Read Episode -11

Image Courtesy : Here

Missing - 2

Tete-A-Ten

Read Missing - 1 here.

Radcliffe School 

Principals Office

Juhu Vile Parle Scheme.

Mumbai –16:30 HRS. -18:30 HRS.

He had never seen Tara Dutta look flustered.It took three years and nine months for Chenthil Kumar,Chief Editor of Ulka Communications,to experience that moment.
He entered into Tara’s half tinted glass cabin noticing her perspire profusely.

'Tara,did you know, horses sweat,men perspire and women glow?'He asked.


Tara Dutta looked up, slowly sliding the rimless glasses above her crease less forehead. The short pixie hair cut was a contrast to her soft white top,the hairstyle was slightly darker, with an espresso tone to the color.The point-cut fringe angled to the right side of her face and made her eyes appear more intense and focused. Her eyes perpetually seemed to ask a counter question without really verbalising it.Questions, which people at work always wanted to know, but would never dare ask. 
Those high arching brows added to her look of slight surprise and continuous interest. Smartly dressed in a soft cotton white top and a beige skirt, with minimal accessories but for a pair of elegant pearl earrings just about making their presence felt. The long tip of the nose pointed towards her boss.


Chenthil,stood at the door expecting a reaction.But it didn’t come from the expected source.After a few uncomfortable moments of silence he broke the ice.

'Err no, just checking if you were ok?'

'Chenthil,I need to excuse myself for a couple of hours, something has come up.'

Chenthil knew she would preempt all questions he could possibly ask.

'The submissions are ready and I’ve looked into the copy you sent  - its ok -I think we can go for print, the meeting with Ismail Associates is taken care of and the
final deck for Dupon Energy is ready -it should be in your inbox as we speak'.

'Perfect as ever,thanks,I will be around when you come back'Chenthil remarked with a hint of disappointment.

'Yes, I will be back, soon' she said.




The ride to Radcliffe was no more than thirty minutes, but today it tested her patience. The counter on the traffic signal snapped her patience.

'Don’t take that road, how many years have you been driving a taxi? Don’t you know which roads to avoid? Come on step on it.' 
The driver looked suspiciously at the woman passenger on his rear view mirror. The kohl had smudged, the short hair fell across her forehead. Tara looked up at the mirror at the same time and saw the driver staring at her. She put on her Prada shades to avoid further contact.
The taxi halted at a signal as she thought of Shekhar, her grip on the mobile phone tightened. She clenched her teeth without  breaking a single crease on her face. The fights, the nonchalance, the ignorance, each incident floated in her mind one after the other.


The cab started to move again as she flipped through Roohi’s photos on her smart phone. Memories of Roohi’s premature birth, the  subsequent slow development had accentuated the cynicism in her life. Her dream of being the perfect mother had been shattered nine years ago when she learned that Roohi developed "Duodenal Atresia" or a double bubble in the intestines. It was hard for her to take this shock after a near perfect seven month planned pregnancy. Doctors couldn’t convince Tara that it was not her fault.Remarkably,Roohi had caught up with the class,and by the time she turned nine,she was like just any other kid.

Finally, the taxi stopped in front of Radcliffe. Tara paid off the cab and rushed inside. The principals office was a quiet place in spite of so many people in the room. Shekhar turned around and looked at Tara,but before he could say something,Tara took charge.

'Ok,here’s what we do now. Shekhar inform the police. Principal sir can I speak to the class teacher, the helpers, the security guard and the janitors right away?' Both the gentlemen looked at each other.

'We already did that' the principal offered.


'No, I want to talk to them again. We need to form a team and comb the entire school' she said keeping the turmoil inside her tightly capped. As Tara went through the drill of speaking to each staff member it became clear that Roohi was not in the school premises. 

Tara's phone rang and it was Chenthil calling. She disconnected. A text message followed : Check Facebook and see how O&M put up a similar story you edited today'.Tara ignored the message.

'Ok,that's it Tara,I'm going' Shekhar started to briskly walk out of the principals room.
'Wait Shekhar, are you mad? Where will you find her in Juhu? We need to go with the cops be practical' she said.

'Tara,I can't,Its my daughter'. Shekhar walked out of the room to Tara's amazement. It was after a long time that she had seen the other side of Shekhar.


'Ok, Mr. Principal, I'm going too , can you give my mobile number to the police when they find time to get here?' Tara stormed out of the room without waiting for a response. 'Shekhar wait , I'm coming'  she said. Shekhar kept walking without looking back.

'Listen to me Shekhar,lets us first figure out how are we going to cover the area?' she screamed.Shekhar stopped at the Radcliffe exit gate. 
'I will cover the Ville Parle station, and roads number one to seven. You cover eight to thirteen.Iskson temple, Prithvi theater and then finally the beach'he said.

'We should first go to the beach' she said.

'Negative, first the, station.'

'Its more likely she would've wandered over to the beach.'

'Somebody could've kidnapped her and would head to the station'

'Shekhar stop it,don't say that' Tara broke down her long standing composure.


The middle aged couple stood in front of the Radcliffe gate barely holding on to hope.Tara  broke into tears.

Shekhar took Tara's hands off her weeping face and said 'Lets keep calm,think of the best way to do this. I think we should divide the area,why don't you go towards the beach,and  I'll head towards Parla'he said.Tara looked up to Shekhar and nodded without saying a word.

Chenthils incoming call distracted the moment again. The message repeated : Check Facebook.

Shekhar glanced at Tara's cellphone and said 'it just' might be a good idea to post it on Facebook!'

'Facebook?' she said looking up.

'Yes,you know use the power of social media,let people know'

'Yea but the net has enough junkies as well.'

'Well we will have to test our luck, wouldn't we?'

Shekhar and Tara went off in opposite directions, each searching for a common truth, 
Roohi.



Read Missing - 3 here.

“Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”

For Getting Her...

Hetal,When will you go?

I will, I will, just a little bit more time.

I cant wait any longer.

Why are you getting so impatient?

Because It hurts.I can’t eat.

Ma,I will change the nurse.

Hetal Desai,42,CEO of Jamnabai Industries walked out of the room.

Jamnabai slumped back on her pillow with a glass of water.Trying to wash away the bleeding gum.Her tooth ache was unbearable, like a nail hammered into a bone.

She knew the pain quite well.She’d first felt it thirty five years ago. First for carrying 

Hetal and a scorching sun on her back for 12 kilometers  and second, for getting her to the dentist to remove her wisdom tooth.

But today,she did not recall any of it though,she was just another bed-ridden old woman.

Gyanban Thoughts -  Little do parents realise,that the race they make their children ready for,is sometimes the same reason they are left behind.There are scores of small incidents strewn through our lives which we realise only when the tables turn.This Mother's day lets celebrate the precious moments we ve missed out.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

---

The Shot

‘I want a cake,now.’ He screamed.

Sowmya looked back at him,and then resumed her cooking.

‘You are mean,its my birthday – I haven't eaten one in so many months.’

Sowmya didn’t respond.

‘Ok, I’m going out & wont come back’he said running out of the kitchen.

Sowmya shouted‘Appu,come back, now’ clutching the insulin syringe.

Gyanban Thoughts - Spare a thought for the scores of people who suffer from diabetes,more worrisome is the increase of childhood diabetes, something which was not that common a few years ago.Spare a thought for all those mothers who have to fight their emotions and cultural negligence to refrain their children from eating sweets,which in the Indian context is huge.There is a sweet for every occasion ,reason, or no reason. Childhood obesity begins from indulgence at home and serves as a root cause for most complications.