What The Eyes Don't See

30 | The Devil's Choice

How does one make that kind of a choice?

All Anay could think as he was being carried by the spirit in his arms up to the floor of the auditorium was about the face of his mother when she would know that her husband was still alive. It was possible that he was alive, for his body had never been seen after his death, which was due to an unfortunate accident by the side of the road. He himself had identified his father's body when the police had called him, but was he really sure? The doubt was in him then too, and now he was terrified that his family had cremated someone else in his father's stead.

He thought about how the news of his father being alive would play out with his family. That reunion could be the one thing that would give him that place in the family again, the place that he didn't know he wanted until recently, but now he did. But then she would also know what a criminal her husband was, and that would tear the family apart. Maybe she'd be the one to put a knife into her criminal husband's chest if no one else did.

As he drew closer, he saw that his father's eyes were sunken, there were barely any teeth in his mouth, and his body was filled with sores. No, the man was just a shadow of his former self. He was suffering the punishment of his crime. But can any punishment be enough for such a sin as he had committed?

Should his family even know about his existence then? Would he not be putting them in endless agony when his father met his death, which would be sooner rather than later?

As he neared his father's eyes, the man cried out to him. It was an inhuman groan, a plea, a call to rescue. But that had the exact opposite effect on him. This man was a monster. He felt a shudder running through his spine as images of the crimes committed by his father in this same auditorium danced in front of his eyes. He turned to look at the spirit of the boy who was carrying him. He looked into those agonizing eyes and saw the sea of pain within. All that horror had come from a whole world of hurt. His monstrous father was the cause of that hurt.

And there she was—his love, his Shanaya. The pure, innocent Shanaya. She was looking at him with terrifying eyes. She wasn't saying anything now, as if she had resigned herself to the fact that Anay would surely save his father and kill her. Blood is thicker than water. She might think that, for a boy, paternal duty comes before anything else. So what if the father is a criminal? Boys have a duty toward their father. Girlfriends come and go, but there is only one father. Shanaya had her head bowed. She looked like a goat ready for sacrifice.

But she did not know the mental tussle that Anay was going through. He was thinking about the unfairness of it all, the unfairness of involving her in his life. What was her fault, except that she was his girlfriend? He had been unfair to Shanaya too, right from the beginning. From his school days, when he had kissed her in the corridor and then never followed back. From the day he was told that she was bad luck for him, and he entertained that thought even briefly. From when he had considered her not worthy to be told what was going on in his life and kept her away. Those were silent and unspoken acts of torment. And would he now torment her any further for no fault of hers?

As he was placed down on the floor, and he felt the coldness of the wooden surface on his bleeding back, he looked up at the face of the person he had hurt the most.

It was the face of Deep Mishra, now as this undying ghost, his archenemy.

That face, so full of hurt, so full of anger, so full of a need for vengeance, was looming over him. He was a victim, but a victim isn't justified in seeking justice for himself on his own terms. He wasn't justified in fucking up his life and killing Renee and nearly killing Vishwa and Kautuk. Whatever the need for justice, he wasn't justified in putting him through this grueling test where he would lose whichever way he turned.