For a second, Bishan looked startled. “Arguments are a part of every healthy relationship. I admit that I did things which angered him, but at least I wasn’t stupidly obedient like his favorite, Sumeet. And yet Guruji chose and trained him to take his place. Even though Kirit and I are equally good singers. Guruji was partial and it made me mad. I feel that he ought to have waited and observed, to see who would really flourish in the music world. Who would really make Gwalior Gharana proud and who would keep his name flying high. I would have! And I will, but now he won’t be here to see it. To see that his choice was wrong!”
Bishan glared out at the horizon.
His self-confidence surprised Sonia.
“Perhaps he will. Perhaps his soul is here somewhere, waiting to see who really does him proud,” she supplied, softly.
Bishan stared at her with eyes bright with unshed tears.
His sobbing wouldn’t cease. Sumeet’s tears flowed with an intensity which touched Sonia’s heart. The young man’s face was blotched and swollen with grief, and he shut his eyes tight to block the tears, but they squeezed out from the corners.
“I can’t talk now, please leave me alone!” he sobbed.
Sonia and Jatin sat in chairs opposite him.
“You loved him a great deal, didn’t you?” she remarked. “Guruma told me.”
“Guruma… yes, I loved him like I would never love anyone else in my life. He was everything to me. Everything… All I know of life comes from him. And now he’s gone! I shall never see him again, never talk to him, never go to him for advice… Oh, what shall I do!” He clasped his hands over his face.
Sonia maintained a respectful silence, waiting until his sobs tapered into hiccups. Jatin poured a glass of water from a jug and handed it to him. Sumeet accepted the glass absently, sipping indifferently from it. At length, he brushed away his tears, sniffed, and glanced at them.
“I’m sorry, I - ”
“It’s all right,” Sonia cut in quickly. “We understand.”
“Life is strange. But death is stranger,” he murmured. “Here I am, grieving because my father is no more. But what about him? I must think of him. It was the best thing that could have happened to him. He was suffering so much! And his dear wish - to die while listening to music… His dearest wish came true! I should thank God for that. That he passed away peacefully, just as he desired. Do you think I’m making sense?” Sumeet asked Sonia eagerly.
“Yes, perfect sense. I think only the most fortunate people see their dying wish come true.”
“Thank you! You’ve made me feel so much better. Now I can live with the thought that Guruji is happy, wherever he is. He’s free from all suffering. He’s at peace”
The tears began squeezing silently out of his eyes again, but Sumeet seemed composed. Noiselessly, Sonia and Jatin slipped from the room.
The sitting room was beautiful. Red brick walls with huge windows which allowed the sun and trees to peep in. A tambora took a prominent position on a divan. A polished wooden rocking armchair with a flat red cushion sat opposite a music system.
“My husband’s favourite relaxing room,” Mrs Dharkar told them. “This armchair is forty years old, and this Tambora older than that. Nothing will change in this room. The furniture, the memories…”
Sonia moved to the music system. It was a cassette-cum- CD-player. A CD was still inside. The volume level was set high, much above the red line.
“Is this the CD he was listening to when. ”
“Oh yes. Nothing’s been touched. I’ve kept the room locked since… since last evening. That CD was a gift from Kirit, Bishan, and Sumeet. They recorded a Raag - Raag Hameer, a raag of inspiration - in a professional studio and presented it to their Guruji yesterday, as a parting gift. What fate that he should pass away as he listened to his own creations!”
“Can I take the CD along with me?” Sonia asked.
The older woman nodded. “Take whatever you may need and speak to whomever you think necessary. You shall have a free run of the estate. Just help me find peace of mind! And after you finish with this room, please join me for tea in the dining room.”
“Oh, you don’t have to…”
“No, I insist.”
The widow left the room, her back bent with the weight in her heart. As if all the grief in this house was infectious. Sonia closed her eyes, soaking in the atmosphere. There was something about this room. Where Raujibua had died. Something melancholy. A peaceful feeling, though, rather than any violent nature of death. Sad, yes, but something… she couldn’t place a finger on the exact sensation. More like what Sumeet had said. End of a suffering… peaceful passing away… fulfilling…
She had started her investigation with the intention of satisfying Mrs Dharkar’s whim, but after speaking to the three students, she was beginning to sense the undercurrents Raujibua’s wife had mentioned. Undercurrents of jealousy, certainly, but had any of it to do with Raujibua’s death?
Sonia opened her eyes and found Kirit watching her curiously.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Trying to figure out what Raujibua’s feelings towards each one of you really were” Sonia rose.
“He cared for us, but it was Sumeet he loved. There’s not an iota of doubt about that. All of us, we loved him each in our own way. As for Bishan, he had his own warped style of expressing his love for our teacher as well respect for Gwalior Gharana music!” The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that Bishan may claim to love music and his Guru, but his manner of exhibiting it was real strange. He did all those things that he had to abstain from during his training as a disciple of music.
