The Soul of Truth Read online

  A sudden movement and an angry presence is felt. This is the soul of a man killed violently.

  “I was murdered. It was not an accident. I had come to the Gulf from Tamil Nadu. I married late as I wasn’t too interested in starting a family of my own. But my old parents kept pestering me. And in the end, more to keep them happy, I agreed. My wife was young and beautiful. Life suddenly was perfect. I fell deeply in love with my bride and she with me. It was difficult for us to stay away from each other. I promised to bring her over to Bahrain as soon as possible. And that made my parents unhappy again. They were hoping to have their daughter-in-law at home to help them in their old age. But we only wanted to be with each other. And since that was right by us, we didn’t feel guilty about leaving our parents. Our life was bliss once she came over. She was beautiful, smart, loving—the ideal wife. She was so charming that very soon she had a huge circle of friends. She was elected the president of the Tamil Women’s Association. Then, gradually things changed. I started hearing rumours about her, but I never took them seriously. I was well aware of the jealousy towards good-looking smart women in our society. But slowly, I felt the difference in our lives too. A distance. Imperceptible but unsurmountable. We were still the loving, successful couple. But our life had lost something vital. And her mobile phone. I started feeling jealous of an inanimate object. How I hated it! She seemed more animated when interacting with her mobile than with me. And a few messages which I saw in passing made me feel uneasy. One night, I woke up to realise that she is not next to me in bed. The bathroom light was on. She took a long time coming back. I pretended to be asleep. I saw her casting surreptitious looks towards the phone that she was trying to conceal beneath her pillow. The next day, I joked to her about the midnight messages. She wasn’t amused, and it ended in a quarrel. She started sleeping in the guest bedroom. After two days, we knew we couldn’t live like that and made up with renewed love. But a few days later, I woke up again to find her gone from my side. I got up and checked the bathroom, but she wasn’t there. I walked into the kitchen and saw her, smiling and texting on her phone. Anger consumed me. I rushed at her and snatched the vile phone away from her. The messages shocked me beyond belief. Very intimate and sexual, it left me in no doubt that the sender and my wife were lovers. The messages even discussed ways of getting rid of me so that they could live together in peace. My wife—planning to kill me! It was just too hard to come to terms with. I staggered back to the bedroom. I heard her going into the guest room. I stayed awake for a long time. I knew that we had reached the crossroads in our life—we had to make a firm decision the next day about our future. I don’t know when I finally fell asleep. When I woke up, the house was very quiet. I went to her room. She was still sleeping. I walked into the kitchen and switched on the light. With a boom, the gas cylinder exploded and I was engulfed in flames. Within minutes I was dead. I could hear my wife’s screams. The officers ruled it as an accidental death. But I know better. I was betrayed. I was murdered; my wife murdered me!”

  The soul keeps fuming, even as it drifts away aimlessly in its quest for revenge.

  Unbelievable stories. The perils of human life.

  A human incarnation is supposed to happen only after a hundred lesser incarnations. The most precious of all births. And, yet…

  Is the human mind a dark dungeon of unknown secrets? Will nothing, even knowledge, shed light on that darkness? Are we meant to succeed by any means—by love or by betrayal, by sharing or by killing, by skills attained by hook or by crook?

  Science has taken man to unprecedented heights. But we have misused those achievements. We use science to tear apart, to strengthen our hands of destruction.

  Yes, man is on the dock. We have to answer for our deeds and misdeeds.

  A faint wraith of a lady who had bled to death while giving birth to her fifth baby wanders in and then out. The pain of being separated from her children seems to have sucked her into a whirlpool of despair.

  The soul of a Nepali who had committed suicide sounds desperate. He has been wandering since his death, and there is no end to it. This is the punishment for suicide. Life has its own meaning. Birth, life, death…to be fulfilled, not to be sabotaged.

  Live life to the full. Enjoy, but never be the cause of sorrow for another being. A simple philosophy but people find it hard to stick to simple rules. They complicate matters. They bring selfishness and wealth into the equation and kick love and life out of balance.

  A cold wind comes swirling through the open doors. The souls in the mortuary glide out through the doors and float above the bedecked city. Bright lights and flowing automobiles. Like a beautiful temptress, the city is still beguiling—even to the dead.

  At the bus stop, we see a crowd of souls waiting to board the bus with the living. They had died in a bus accident. They long for this one last journey.

  A cold breeze caresses us. A forerunner of the much-awaited rains that might come in the next few days.

  We wander till dawn, before returning to our abandoned bodies. Is it guilt we feel? Why? They are in deep slumber. Never to wake up again. Never to be tangled in the web of mesmerising human relations. They are at peace.

  The sirens from the ambulances rushing to the hospital pierce the air. New dead. New friends. New stories.

  Four fresh bodies are rolled in. Deaths in a road traffic accident. Were they in one of the speeding cars we saw earlier?

  More work for the weary mortuary attendants.

  The night moves relentlessly towards dawn. The souls disappear with the approaching light. I hug close my deep secrets and slip into the numbing, tantalising dreams of death.

  The Fifth Night

  Rain. Lashing rain. Filling the womb of the desert. Cracks in the sidewalks turn into rivulets. The parched earth embraces the rain like a long-lost lover.

  Rain is a rare visitor in the desert, knocking on our doors just once or twice a year.

  Rain is the whimsical lover. Evoking a million tender emotions in human hearts. In this desert, never giving enough, she leaves longing in her wake—love and dreams painting rainbows in the arid wilderness.

  I first realised the magic of rain while in college. When my heart burst into a thousand love songs to its rhythm. When flowers of myriad hues bloomed in the garden of my thirsty heart. My own forget-me-nots, Ruby’s face smiling from them.

  The dim dusk dissolves in the rain.

  The dust in the air gets washed away with the droplets and flows merrily away in the sewers.

  The faithful are coming out of the mosque after the evening prayers, huddling together under the roof, waiting out the rain. A calm acceptance. Different people, different lives, different experiences, different woes but united by a simple faith in the Almighty.

  The rain abates after a while. The worshippers disperse.

  The city looks even more enchanting after the rain. Lights shine like jewels on a bedecked princess.

  Winter is almost here. It will soon be harvest time for the sweet fruits of the soil.

  I can see our PRO waiting in the lobby with a sheaf of papers. Surely these are my transport forms.

  As always, he looks weary and nervous. He keeps running his fingers over his bald head.

  Our firm delivers materials to construction companies. We have more than two thousand employees. I was the materials storekeeper there.

  Bahrain is an island country. Very small in size and population but at the forefront of growth and development in the region. There are numerous Indians here, and quite a few of them are Malayalis.

  Bahrain values individual freedom more than most other Arab countries. It is a high-income economy with a high human development index. Most women here hold higher education degrees.

  King Hamad University hospital is the biggest hospital in Bahrain. That is where my body is waiting..

  The PRO hands each official document to the mortuary worker. Police Clearance Certificate, Death Certificate, Company Clearance Certificate,
the letter from Radhika to the Indian Consulate, Clearance Certificate from the Bahrain Foreign Office, documents for the airport authorities. Everything seems in order. He hands over my air ticket and confirms my home address.

  Arrangements are being made for my body to be flown to Kochi the next day.

  My colleague Rajan would be accompanying the casket. The mortuary workers are to hand over my body along with the documents to Mr Rajan, the PRO explains to the worker. Official duties over, he is again in a hurry to leave the mortuary.

  I will be flying home tomorrow.

  My thoughts turn to Radhika, my wife. The embodiment of love in our short, married life.

  Our honeymoon days.

  Radhika loves the sea, just like Ruby and me. Walking barefoot on the beach one evening, she smiled at the crunch of sand under our feet, and said, “If only we had all this sand in our Periyar, right, Appuetta?”

  “Ha, then the sand mafia would have smuggled it all away by now.”

  She laughed, like tinkling bangles.

  We sat leaning on a moored boat, watching the sea. The wind played with strands of her hair.

  As I watched her gazing at the sea, I was filled with tenderness about this new person in my life. She trusts me, with her whole life, and the thought of that huge responsibility made me proud and overwhelmed at the same time.

  “What are you thinking, Radhika?”

  “Nothing, Appuetta. Why?”

  “Are you scared?”

  “Why? Sitting on this shore, beside you, shouldn’t I feel the safest on earth?”

  “The sea. Are you scared of the sea? Don’t you feel it’s a treasure trove of secrets? Of monsters and unknown fears?”

  “Don’t we have worse monsters on land, Appuetta?” She quipped with a naughty smile.

  I burst out laughing. Radhika was smart and sharp. From the shy bride, she had quickly transformed to my friend and companion.

  “But why did you ask?” She was not ready to let go of the topic.

  “Just curious—when I saw you looking at the sea so thoughtfully.”

  “Hmmm… I see you lost in thought all the time. I should be asking you the questions.”

  Her steady gaze perturbed me. I tried to laugh off the unease. “’Unceasing are these . . . waves in the sea and desires in the heart’.

  Appuetta, do you remember these famous lines?”

  “Yes, Radhika. They’re so true.”

  “Do you have such desires? Or regrets?”

  I felt disturbed. Where was Radhika leading with her questions?

  “What regrets, Radhika? I am always worried about the problems at home. That’s all.”

  An uneasy silence descended between us. I was worried that Radhika was hinting about Ruby. My thoughts flew to the trunk in the attic, full of love letters from Ruby. Before marriage, I had thought of destroying them. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t sever that final bond with my aching past. One of these days Radhika might stumble upon them. What then?

  “Lost in thoughts again, Appuetta? Is this why we came here? To sit in silence?” Radhika’s voice woke me up from my reverie.

  “The sea is in constant motion Appuetta, but she is deep and still too. She is mysterious and yet open, for all to see. Isn’t this the best place to open up our minds as well? I am all yours. And you, mine. Don’t you then think it’s best not to have any secrets between us?”

  I could hear my heart thumping louder than the waves. My thoughts were in disarray, tossing and tumbling, over and over. I needed to get a grip on them. What am I expected to do? What is right? What is wrong?

  Radhika was running her soft fingers over my forearms. She was looking at me with that disconcerting gaze again.

  “Life is a mixture of pain and happiness, Radhika.”

  “True, Appuetta. But I can feel an unbroken undercurrent of despair in you. And it worries me. That is why I asked.”

  “Hey, no, it’s just your imagination.” I tried to laugh off her concern and change the conversation. “Look there, Radhika. The sun is bleeding into the ocean.”

  “That is so poetic, Appuetta! There is a poet in you. Do you write?”

  I laughed. “Oh, no. You know me. I’m not one for risky ventures!”

  “You should! There are unsung poems, and untold stories trapped inside you. You’re such an avid reader anyway.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked her in surprise. In these few days, she seemed to have read me very well.

  “The books on your shelf.” Radhika burst out laughing. “Elementary, my dear Appuetta.”

  I laughed with her.

  “Yes, I do love collecting and reading books. I bought them for myself when I collected books for our local library. I helped start the library in our village.” I said, with obvious pride in my voice.

  “I know. Everyone here thinks very highly of you. You are meant for great things, Appuetta. You should start writing. And read more. I want my Appuettan to be best in everything. You know, I used to write little poems in our college magazine. But I am not talented like you. I do enjoy just sitting beside you and talking to you about them though!”

  Radhika’s words moved me. My wife. My pride. And her obvious pride in me. It made me feel very special. I looked at her with new eyes. Was it adoration or guilt? Was I taking her for granted? When my mind kept wandering off to Ruby, was I being unfaithful to Radhika? Did she suspect that? Was that the purpose of this conversation?

  Radhika was much younger to me and Ruby. But she had grown up in our village. I had seen her often at the temple, though I had never consciously noticed her. How could I? I had eyes for only one person. But, had Radhika noticed me and Ruby? She might have seen us together. She must surely have heard the rumours about us.

  “Appuetta, say something. Are you worried the sea will eavesdrop on our conversation?”

  “I love watching the sea, Radhika. It calms me, and my ceaseless worries about our family.”

  “Appuetta, see how the waves caress the shore? They are each other’s strength. The way I am yours, and you are mine. Share your burdens with me, please. I am not merely your wife. I want to be your best friend and soulmate too.”

  “Deepu, Oppol, Sumathy…when will I ever fulfill my responsibilities to all of them?”

  “But you are doing everything right to fulfill that! Now, you have me on your side. Together we will make sure our family does well. Please, don’t despair Appuetta. Worrying will not help. Do have more faith in yourself—and in us.”

  Radhika snuggled up to me. I could feel the warmth of her love. When she called me “Appuetta”, my world became that much brighter. Her sweet words were like a soothing balm on my wounded soul.

  “Radhika, I know about the futility of worrying. But, we humans, are strange. What do we think with? Our brain? And is it the heart that aches? I think the mystery of the human mind will never be solved. Try as I might, I can’t stop worrying about the future.”

  “Appuetta, I understand. But worrying won’t solve the problems. Together we will face them and solve them to the best of our abilities. Trust me, please. And be happy. I can’t bear to see you unhappy.”

  Radhika looked exceptionally beautiful in the glow of the sunset. At that moment, I felt I could spend my whole life just looking at her.

  “My dream is to come to Bahrain with you. But not now. Only after we have fulfilled all our responsibilities at home.” She smiled.

  “I know, Radhika. I wish I could take you with me now. But… we can definitely think about it once Sumathy is married.”

  I felt an excruciating tenderness for Radhika.

  “Appuetta, isn’t this the most beautiful evening you have seen? Is Bahrain pretty? Does it have a sea?”

  “Yes, Radhika. It has a beautiful beach. It is one of my favourite places to relax when I get off work. Do you know that Bahrain used to have the best pearls in the world? Like this necklace I got for you?” Gently, I fingered the pearl necklace around Radhika�
�s neck. “But the oil industry has trumped the pearl industry.” I smiled.

  “Do you know the meaning of the word, ‘Bahrain’, Radhika?”

  “No.”

  “It means ‘Two Seas’ in Arabic, so called probably due to the unique feature of the presence of freshwater springs beneath the saltwater ocean. Saudi Arabia and Qatar are its neighbours. It is a small but very prosperous country.”

  Radhika got up and brushed off the sand from her sari. She walked to the sea and washed her hands in the water.

  Watching her walk back, my heart again turned into a churning whirlpool. Here is my wife. The person I would be spending the rest of my life with—for better, for worse. How can I keep the biggest secret of my life from her? How can we have a good life together with that secret hanging over us? How can I love Radhika with all my heart when every cell in my body cried out for Ruby?

  “Appuetta, you’re looking pensive again. I told you we don’t have any problems that can’t be solved. I will always be with you. Now, what more can I say or do to make you happy?”

  Looking into her face, the words tumbled out without any preamble. “Radhika, would you like to know about my past?”

  Radhika looked up. “I don’t know, Appuetta. I would have been happy not to bother about the past if you were happy in our present. But when you sink into this gloom, I wish I knew what was bothering you so I could share it and lighten it for you. You are a very nice person, Appuetta. Too sensitive. Your mind is your biggest enemy. It will keep questioning and judging and forcing you to dissect and analyse each one of your actions. Let go, Appuetta. There is nothing in your past that should weigh you down so much. Or, if you think there is, share it with me, and I will help you get over it.”

  My eyes had already betrayed me and the tears upset Radhika.

  “No, Appuetta. Don’t worry. You don’t have to tell me anything. I love you with all my heart and that is enough for both of us.” She tried to wipe off my tears with her sari.