“How’s that?” Bishan demanded, looking stunned.
Sonia held up the Hindi book on classical singers. “I don’t know how many of you have read this book. There’s a true story in this, a story which supplied Kirit with the seed of his plan. About a famous singer of Gwalior Gharana named Hassu Khan, a singer whose voice was known to be a miracle. His popularity rose because of his divine singing but it also angered the already established court singer, an older man named Mohamad Khan. As the competition between the two singers increased the envious Mohamad Khan decided to get rid of Hassu Khan, in the most clever fashion possible. One day, in a Sangeet Mehfil - a singing gathering - Mohamad Khan praised Hassu Khan and asked him to sing Raag Malhaar. Unaware that this request held a cunning reasoning on the part of the older singer, Hassu Khan began. This raag contained the Kadak Bijlee ki Taan, a taan required great effort on the part of the singer. Hassu Khan sang it. Mohamad Khan praised him highly and said “Shabbash Bete! Once more!” Encouraged, Hassu Khan sang the taan again and burst a vein. Soon after this incident, Hassu Khan died!”
Silence breathed in the room. Sonia’s gaze travelled from one face to the other.
“Kadak Bijlee ki Taan. A very poignant taan, one which requires every ounce of energy to sing and which can kill the person who is singing it and can startle and create an uneasiness amongst the listeners. Not only that. It can also kill a listener with a weak heart and a body that is frail and dying. Such is the impact of the powerful taan, which flashes like a lightning - bijlee - just like its name. And Kirit knew it. He was aware that if Raujibua, who had forbidden his disciples to sing this taan, heard it, he would be so shocked that anything could happen. Anything - that he could even die! And he was correct. When Raujibua, who was ailing and already emotionally rattled and upset by his disciples, heard the CD, the electric taan sung by Bishan stunned him with its forceful effect and brought on his heart attack. A very natural death, but also a cunning murder. No knife, no poison, no stains, no telltale proofs. Clean and bloodless. Right, Kirit?”
Kirit was white, his lips pinched. He rose unsteadily and wordlessly walked out of the room. Vandana’s horrified expression spoke volumes. She flew after him, her face pale with consternation. Bishan looked astounded. Sumeet’s face expressed incredulity. Only Mrs Dharkar appeared composed.
“Rimaji, can we have some chai?” Sonia suggested. She suddenly felt drained.
“Right away, in the dining room,” Mrs Dharkar said crisply. “Come along, everyone”
The Tambora rested on the divan, a lone instrument sharing the melancholy peace of the shadowy sitting room. A figure slipped into the room and paused. Then, slowly, it moved to the armchair and kneeled before it, clasping the arms of the chair, as if trying to soak in the presence of Raujibua. Tears fell on the worn, polished wood. At last, with sudden resolve, the figure rose and headed straight towards the CD player. As a hand extended to the volume button, the room was abruptly illuminated.
“Sumeet, I accuse you of mercy-killing your Guruji, Pandit Raujibua Dharkar!” Sonia’s voice rang out, coldly.
Startled, Sumeet straightened. He stared into the determined faces of Sonia, Jatin, and Mrs Dharkar. From the other side of the room, Vandana, Kirit, and Bishan emerged, their faces hard and unsympathetic.
“You did it, didn’t you? You were the one who suggested the taan!” Bishan exclaimed, angrily. “You made me sing it!”
“Sumeet?” Kirit spoke in a quiet voice.
Sumeet’s shoulders slumped and he sighed. His face was tearstained, but his voice was steady when he answered. “Yes, I did it.”
“But why?” Kirit asked, bewildered. “You loved him!”
“That is precisely why he did it,” Sonia said. “As I said before, the base of this whole episode is love. Sumeet’s all-eclipsing love for his Guruji. Sumeet was the perfect student, but more than that, he was the perfect son. He nursed his Guruji, met his smallest need, followed every word of his strictly and religiously and saw that his teacher was completely comfortable and satisfied in whatever he required. But then the end of the training neared and the thought terrified him. How would his Guruji cope without him? The older man was suffering too much. I think it was then that the idea entered Sumeet’s head that he had to end his Guruji’s suffering, and as per his Guruji’s wish, ensure that he died listening to music. That, according to Sumeet, was his last duty to Raujibua. He planned the CD as a gift, making Bishan sing the special taan, and also squealing on Bishan and Kirit, by informing Raujibua about the other students’ secrets, making the sick man emotionally weak. And as a last coup, he turned on the volume over the normal range, just before the taan, to ensure the effect he desired. Raujibua suffered a massive heart attack right before his eyes. Sumeet succeeded in his mercy-killing. That’s the way it happened, didn’t it, Sumeet?”
Sumeet’s breathing was shallow. “I loved him a lot. Who would look after him after I left? Some undeserving student would replace me, undedicated like Bishan, trying to take my place. How could anyone ever take my place? How could Guruji live without me? And his illness - so often he would writhe in pain as I held his hand, trying to offer him comfort. How often he said to me that even death would be better than that! It was heart-rending! I couldn’t bear the thought of him in some hospital, fighting for his life, away from
