The other woman nodded. “At least it will clear my doubts. Please, just go ahead and do that. Prove that my suspicions and my instincts are incorrect!”
“All right.” Sonia sighed. “Can I meet Kirit, Bishan, and Sumeet?”
“Right away?”
“If it’s possible. Not together, of course, and preferably in their rooms or cottages. I believe they have their own rooms here?”
“Yes. This is their home. They have single-room cottages but they take their meals with the family. Give me a minute while I send Vandana to organize the meetings.”
Mrs Dharkar rose and exited from the Hall of Music. Sonia turned to Mohnish and Jatin.
“Instinct stronger than evidence? Not the first time I’ve come across such a situation,” she remarked. “But this time, what if instinct wins over evidence? What if instinct is proved accurate?”
Kirit stood by the bed, in the simply furnished room. A tambora - a musical instrument - rested against the wall. Jatin perched on the bed, which was covered with a pink-checked bedsheet. Sonia sat on a chair by the table, her hand causally riffling through the photos placed on it. A copper-plated ornate double photo frame took a prominent place on the table. Kirit’s face smiled back from one frame, but the other side was empty. Which of these snaps was going to be put on the other half of the photo frame, she wondered idly. She studied the minimal decorations of the room and Kirit’s neat appearance.
Kirit was in his late twenties. Square-rimmed glasses sat on a chiseled nose. A pronounced jawline gave him the look of an athlete. But he was an artist. And it was evident when he spoke, soft-voiced and musical.
“I can’t begin to tell you what I feel about Guruji’s passing away. It’s a shock and a terrible one!” Kirit sighed, moist-eyed.
“You have been training with him - for how many years?” Sonia asked.
“Ten years. I did go back home, on and off, but I’ve spent a large part of the last ten years slogging to achieve an accomplished singer’s status.”
“And you think that you are finally there?”
“Guruji thought so. That’s why he declared that my training was complete. I am now free to step out into the world and establish myself with the singing of Gwalior Gharana.”
Sadness tinged his tone. He stared down at his square-nailed fingers, hesitating. As if making up his mind. He glanced up.
“Guruma said that I could speak my mind to you. But how can I tell you that I feel so incomplete, so horrible? There was so much I would’ve said to Guruji. I never got a chance to tell him how much I appreciated what he did for me. I was caught up with unimportant ideas - thoughts, feelings that I had no right to feel. I believed that I was justified in what I thought, but I realise now that nothing justifies going against your teacher’s wishes. I have failed him in many ways. I have failed my father, because that was what Guruji was to me. He was like a father to me - to all of us.”
Tears flowed freely down his cheeks. “I wish I had listened to him. He was right and I was wrong!”
Jatin flashed his Boss a look. She was staring at Kirit, puzzled.
“Raujibua was right about what?” she asked the young man.
“About everything,” the singer mumbled. “About everything!”
The tiny yellow flowers of the mustard field bobbed with the wind. Vandana led Sonia and Jatin past the yawning hole of a huge stone well, then up a narrow mud path.
“I’m sure Bishan is here, since I couldn’t find him anywhere at all. He is prone to swinging moods and I’ve often found him in his favourite spot. Behind the water pump shed. Look - there he is” Vandana pointed out a lone figure leaning against a Banyan tree. “Will you wait here a minute, Miss Samarth? I’ll just explain Mom’s request to him.”
Sonia nodded. She watched Vandana trudge over the path and tap Bishan on the shoulder. There was something about the girl that was rather appealing. Her confidence, the way she held her head?
“A rupee for your thoughts, Boss!” Jatin said. He picked up a stalk of straw and chewed on it.
“Just wondering if we are wasting our time”
“Boss, a case is a case. Even if it is to prove that there is no case!” He grinned.
“Right!” She returned his smile, as she watched Vandana retrace her steps.
“Go ahead, Miss Samarth,” the girl said. “But be warned. He almost snapped my head off!” A faint smile curved her lips.
“Thanks”
“You can find your way back to the house, can’t you?”
“Oh yes, we can, don’t worry. But it would be good if we could meet Sumeet immediately after this.”
Sonia and Jatin turned and headed towards Bishan. Black wavy hair was prematurely peppered with grey. His white kurta encased broad shoulders.
His deep black eyes glinted with anger. “What do you want?” he demanded harshly.
Sonia raised surprised eyebrows at his hostile tone.
“Didn’t Vandana explain? We’d like to talk to you.”
“Why? Why did Guruma ask me to speak to you? I don’t know you. You are not even connected with the family!”
“Perhaps because sometimes talking to an outsider helps relieve the grief?” Sonia suggested mildly. She chose a flat stone to sit on and motioned Jatin to do the same.
“Grief ! I feel no grief. Only anger. Hot, burning anger! Why did Guruji have to quit like that? It’s so unfair!” he snarled.
“Most people don’t know exactly when a heart attack is going to strike them,” Sonia said wryly.
“But he was not supposed to die of heart attack. He was ill! He had some more years before he needed to say a final goodbye to us. He had so much more to teach us! He was a storehouse of musical knowledge - precious knowledge which only he possessed. He had no right to leave without completing his task.
