Short story series. Lost friend.

MY LOST FRIEND

     It was last summer when he had visited me in my country home. I was pleasantly surprised to see him after so many years. He was my childhood friend.  Though the environment in the countryside was very pleasant and peaceful, he appeared to be lost in some deep disturbing thought, but he kept it to himself.

     My intuition kept telling me that something was terribly wrong with him, but I did not want to intrude his privacy. He stayed with me for four days, and in those four days I had that bickering feeling that he wanted to tell me something but was hesitant.  Nor could I initiate it. Then he left suddenly, leaving me confused and concerned.

     I returned to the city for my job as the mini vacation was over, leaving my parents at the country home.   They loved to stay there. I would pick them up later in the month.  But the thought of my friend kept recurring in my mind. What could be so important that he had to come to meet me at the country home where I had gone just for few days?  Why did he not wait for me to return to the city where we both lived? I could find no answer.

     Life went by, days, months, years. But there was no sign of him. I kept thinking about him. But that’s all I could do. He had not left any information for me.  He was out of touch. I just waited. I was in a way deeply concerned because he was my closest childhood friend. We grew up together, went to college together and then parted for our respective careers, with jobs in different cities.

     After few months, I received a sealed envelope. On opening it, to my surprise I found one letter and one photograph. The letter was written by my friend, signed by his signature style. He had very beautiful handwriting, which I had always admired. It read “SUDHIR S.” in his distinctive writing style.

     The letter was short and just mentioned that he wanted to meet me and talk about something important. He could not write about it in the letter. It was really urgent and essential to talk. The photograph was of him, his wife and two children, whom I had never met.  What sense did it make? Why had he sent his family picture to me?  I was unable to come to any conclusion.    

      I remembered the days he had visited me at the country home. Even at that time I had that strange intuitive feeling that something was really wrong with him. That was four years back and now suddenly this letter!  I left my thought to that, closed the envelope and kept it carefully in my handbag. Later in the evening I opened the letter again and noticed that he had not mentioned any place or time for meeting, nor did I know how to contact him. He had not even sent a contact number to me. Once again I was left baffled. It was in a way building up a strange tension in my mind, but I was helpless. I had no clue of what actually was happening between him and me.

      Later that month, he called me and gave me an address and told me to be present on a particular day at the given time at the place mentioned, without fail. Or else it would be too late.  He said that it was his last chance to clarify the matter and that he could not talk further on the phone. Without any choice, I agreed to be there. After all he was my dearest friend. Though not in touch for long time, we still shared a strong emotional bond.

      I reached the place he had mentioned, on time. It was a Sunday morning around 8 am. To my astonishment the place was a prison, which he did not mention earlier. Anyway, I had to meet him. I inquired with the officials, ‘Sudhir Sharma’ I said and the jailer in charge led me to a visiting cell. I had noticed a strange look on the official’s faces. Quite quizzical and curious, but I could not understand the reason for that look.

      He came to the room, dressed in the prisoner’s clothes. He looked pale and sick, his deep set eyes were lost in distant thought. I went weak in the knees. What was going on?  He was not the happy, charming, mischievous Sudhir I had always admired, but a strange person in my friend’s garb. He came and sat beside me, noticing the expression of shock and concern on my face. I was hesitant to even talk to him after seeing his condition and the look in his eyes. It was a bit scary. We sat silently for a while. Questions and thoughts were rummaging in my mind like some boxer’s blows, one after the other.

      I did not know what to talk and he did not know how to say it. My mind was whirling, how do I ask him the reason for him being into a prison. I decided to keep quiet.  After a few restless breaths, he said in a low lost voice. He sounded as if he was at some place far away.  I kept quiet, a bit anxious now.

“I am being hanged.                                                                                                                                                                                     I have been given a death sentence.                                                                                                                                                              At 9.30 am. exactly one hour from now.”  

 He said looking at the clock on the wall opposite us.  Silence. Only silence filled the room.                                                         I was dumbfounded. Where had the words gone?  I could not even inquire about the facts related to the situation. The visuals of our carefree youthful days just floated in front of my eyes. I could not stand this anymore. I felt dizzy. 

He kept quiet after that one long sentence. Silence gripped us.

 He was being sentenced to death??? Why??   I asked myself. It took me some time to recover from the shock, while he just sat there gazing at nothing.  Then slowly, hesitantly he began to talk. I listened.

     Life had been very good to him. He said.

     Since our youthful days I had known him to be a Happy-go-lucky type of person. Enjoying each moment in his stride. Always friendly, compassionate and caring towards others. Intelligent and inventive in his academics. After college he had been successful, well settled and prosperous. I had not attended his wedding as I was abroad on a business tour. And therefore, never met his wife or family.

      He went on, ‘You know I married according to my parent’s wish. I was initially hesitant as I believed in love marriage and wished to marry my girlfriend, Sheila. You know her, she was our classmate.’ I nodded affirming the fact.      He said, “But, I gave in to my parent’s wish. I compromised with my emotions. Accepted life as it came. Tried to live and give the best to my wife. Time passed by.  Two beautiful daughters were born to us, a gift from God. I was very happy. I fell in love with my lovely daughters. They were my life and breath. Business was flourishing. I had all the material comforts and luxuries I needed. Nothing seemed to be missing in my life. I was on top of the world.” He fell silent. As if he was trying to relive those lovely days and moments he had cherished.

      He went on, ‘Then one day I received a phone call when I was in my office. The voice was of my past flame, my girlfriend. It was Sheila. I was surprised to hear her voice after a long long time. But more than the voice, I was surprised or rather shocked to hear what she was saying. It was a voice that I always loved to hear. It was the voice that made me happy. But that day the same voice brought a storm in my life. My entire world collapsed in those few moments.  She sounded calm and composed, but her stern statements disturbed me beyond words and expectation. She said she had not married yet. That she had been waiting for me all along. She had no regrets in life. That she was successful in her life and was living it peacefully. She then said that she wanted to share something with me. I just kept quiet as I could not take in so much at a time.  She went on, she had gone to my native village for some social visit, and that she met my aunt by chance. She was informed that my parents were no more. She had known my entire family all along. Then slowly, hesitantly, she added, that my parents had convinced me to marry a girl, who was a landlord’s daughter in our village. And they did not know anything about her. That the jamindaar had forced them to marry his daughter to me in return of the money they had taken from him for my education. That girl was in love with the Collector’s son who lived in the nearby village. My parents, unaware of her whereabouts had hastily agreed and arranged for my marriage, to free themselves from the debt and thinking that it was a good match. I was not even consulted and straightaway let to marriage. That she was still in relationship with him and had twin daughters by him. I went blank. How could it be possible? My wife was living with me in the city and we were happy. I argued that maybe it was her past for which I need not bother in the present.  She agreed to my point but also added that the twin daughters were not mine and that they were of that person, who had been visiting my home whenever I had been out of station.                                                                       I was shocked. My entire world collapsed in those few moments.                                                                                                       Lastly, she reminded me how I had ignored her and given in to this marriage. I had no words to defend myself.                                   After the phone call, I decided to verify the facts she had revealed. That evening I informed my wife that I would be leaving for a business trip the next morning, and that it might take about a week to return.

      Now I noticed that always on the mention of my every such trip, she would never question the whereabouts. Where was I going, why was I going, nothing. Because I realized now that at the back of her mind, my departure was desperately awaited, for her to have immediate plans for herself. Next morning, I left as per the decided timing for the airport. But this time I went to a friend’s house. Stayed there till evening and then returned to my colony and went to another friend’s place nearby my house. And from where my house was clearly visible. I kept a watch on my house. And to my dismay, as I had never expected, I saw my wife coming out of the house with a strange person, beautifully dressed and in a gay mood. They went in his car. My daughters were left behind with the maid. After 3 hours they returned, went up to my house. More than an hour had passed, but that man had still not left my home. My temper was mounting. I could not take it any longer. I walked past the compound, up to my house and opened the door with the master key. To my surprise, my daughters were locked away in the bedroom with the maid and the two lovebirds were having a gala time. My wife was shocked to see me. She came towards me and was about to ask questions, but before that I hit her hard and she fell down. I attacked the man and banged his head as hard as I could against the wall. He fell unconscious. My wife tried to get up and balance herself, but I hit her hard on her head with a lampshade nearby and she fell flat. I had lost control of my senses and in my anger I did not know what I was doing. Suddenly there was complete silence.

      Neighbors came running as there was beating and screaming and things falling. The noise had created a scene. The police was called, I was arrested and taken to custody, the procedures followed.  Questioning sessions, court case, and hearings. My wife and her lover were declared dead. None of it affected me. I was out of my mind. I had lost everything. That one phone call, the information it gave me shattered my whole world. My two twin daughters were truly not mine. The DNA tests confirmed the other person to be their father. Bringing an end to my last ray of hope.

     I lived for the three of them and see now I am here sharing my woes with you.  A helpless millionaire awaiting execution  in the next hour. Tell me who is to be blamed?”

     I was speechless. What could I say? What did he expect from me? Why had he called me here, now? I just kept quiet.

     He went on, he had accumulated wealth in shares, properties and other assets. He said he had made it legal and safe. There was nothing to worry about. Only he wanted that his wealth should fall in safe hands and should be used meaningfully because it was his hard earned wealth.  And so he had called me. He had made all the legal documents and transferred all the wealth in the name of a trust. And he wanted me to be the caretaker of the trust. He handed me the documents in the presence of the prison officials. I was speechless. Had he left any space for me to utter even a word?  He stood up to leave. “Take Sheila’s help if you need, she is into social work can guide you.”   “Sheila Raina?” I muttered.

‘NO, Sheila Sharma, she had taken to my surname since we parted. And inform her about me as well. I won’t be able to tell her.’ Another blow for me.

He came closer to me, gave me a hug. I went cold and numb. My senses stopped responding. He turned away to go.  Stopped little further, turned towards me and his last words to me were,         

    “Never give in to other’s wishes, believe in your own inner voice. Only that can give you real life, rest all is fake.”

     I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that time was running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath.  “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”                        Because I knew that in the next quarter of this hour, he would be down the gallows. And I will be left without a dear friend.