Under The Mango Trees

Chapter Thirty Five : In Between A Gentleman's Duty

I was asked to help Dev carry more bags of Pavitra since the elevator was out of service that day. I was so preoccupied with why Lila wasn't replying to me back that I had absently followed him down and let him remove the bags from his car. He was as silent and unbothered as someone who lived for the sole purpose of completing his assigned duty that I forgot about offering my help. It was only when he had strode till the entrance of the building with two large bags in each hand that it struck me to take those bags, instead of idly worrying about Lila.

I rushed after him and quickly held the handle of one of those bags, but that irritated him, I could see by the way how his clean-shaven jaw clenched into a perfect square. He stopped in his tracks but didn't let go of the bag. I felt timid then, also flummoxed at his coldness that was absent in our first meet at the wedding when I had asked him to untie the drawstrings of my pants. Heat rose at the memory and I stammered in a hoarse voice, "I-I can take it."

His head tilted towards the numerous bags that were still left by the car, not speaking anything, but indicating me to let go and take up those bags if I was so enthusiastic about helping. That was when I looked freely into his eyes, those eyes which were full of warmth the last time we had met. Now, they were the eyes of an uncaring stranger. Those uncaring eyes suddenly flashed to me and I let go of the bag like I had accidentally touched a hot vessel, averting my eyes to the ground and hurrying towards his car. I was aware that I acted this way because of the confusion at him not recognizing me. Even if he didn't recognize me, it didn't seem appropriate for someone like him to behave this way. Aloof and cool.

I didn't need one more person to stress over, so I tried to shake away my instinct which always presaged the worst outcome these days and grabbed two tote bags which were stuffed to the point that they resembled fat soft toys. Wind was knocked out of me at every stair that I clambered up. When I felt faint with sweat and exhaustion, I decided to take a break halfway, hunching over the bags and inhaling deeply. I could hear my loud, erratic heartbeats and breathing and I was so attentive to getting my body's functioning stable again that I didn't take heed of Dev's presence until I heard something like a scoff. There was a knowing smile on his face, but not the respectful, knowing smile that I had seen at the wedding. This was a mocking, knowing smile that I didn't know he was capable of.

He wordlessly picked up the bags and climbed up before I could protest and when I had processed what had happened, he was running down again for round three. How incredibly fast!

"Are you employed as a delivery boy somewhere?" I joked almost nervously as I ran down after him, but he didn't reply. I wasn't sure if he had even heard me. I was possessed with a need to hear something from him, anything because it felt as if I had done something wrong. Guilt had a tendency to grow and swell in silence till one felt that it would be the death of them unless resolved. And any emotion that consumed one's entire being could render them desperate. So that was how I approached him, desperate to know what was fixed in his mind to scorn at me like that. Was I guilty of making him do all this labour . . . ?

"Pavitra says that your brother wants a divorce," I started again with renewed efforts, picking up a bag which he immediately grabbed from me, making me feel and appear useless. I said with helpless agitation, "I can carry them too." The little smile was back on his face, this time more teasing and less intimidating, but he was still unresponsive. I sidled beside him, trying to grasp the handle of the bag that he held tightly. "Do you know why your brother wants a divorce?"

The smile vanished and he marched with such deliberately long steps that I couldn't keep up even with my free hands. So that was it. It wasn't me who had committed an error, but my sister. He was honouring his brother by not speaking to me. That suited his personality too. The loyal type who respected relations with others above everything else. I could see that in every step he took without complaining or even a sigh that could betray his grudge. If I was in his place, I would expect to be fully compensated by my sibling for doing his dirty work.

When all the bags were deposited by the door, my mother invited him in for a drink which he refused firmly, but politely. I could see how strange he made my mother feel too with his austere look. There was no lack of respect in that look, but a lack of familiarity. I trailed after him, not because any bags were left to be transported, but because of finding some answers. Some answers that only he could give me.

"Hey! Wait!" I hopped down, my voice echoing in the stairwell which reminded me of the days when I chased Lila for one of her races. I saw him adamantly advancing towards his car without a second glance, giving me a clear, bold message that he was ignoring me. His task was finished and so was his connection with me. Fortunately, his windows were rolled down so I clutched at it, determined to wiggle some answers out of him. "Sorry I wasn't much of a help. But can you tell me, please, what is wrong with their marriage? Everyone is worried at home. I don't know how far we can survive without knowing the truth."

He glanced at me and his hands relaxed on the steering wheel, his voice softened too. "Ask your sister what's wrong. It's her fault."

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