they’ll lose interest in the poor unfortunate thing in a week, and it’ll starve to death unless I look after it.’
‘I had a pet dog when I was a kid,’ Tara said. ‘I adored her. But she died after she’d been with us only a year. I was heartbroken.’
‘Oh, you poor thing!’ Sharon said. ‘My friend’s pug died a few months ago, and she’s been so upset her husband is thinking of getting her treated for depression.’
‘I can understand a kid being upset,’ Justin said. ‘But I wonder why adults are affected so badly when a pet dies. I mean, they
know
that animals have shorter lifespans.’
‘It’s more the case with dogs,’ Tara said thoughtfully. ‘People tend to treat a dog the way they’d treat a kid—and human emotions are wired to expect a kid to outlive the parents.’
Justin looked impressed ‘That’s pretty insightful,’ he said.
Vikram stood up. ‘I don’t think the two can compare,’ he said shortly. ‘Losing a child and losing a dog.’
Tara watched him walk to another set of guests and her heart thudded painfully. She should have known better than to go babbling on about parents losing a kid when she knew his brother had died. And it would be impossible to apologise later. He was so closed off on the subject.
It would never get better, Vikram thought as he mechanically responded to a remark a colleague had addressed to him. A chance comment could make all the blackness and grief of Vijay’s death seem as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Someone mentioning their own brother, an article about a road accident,a photograph of a young man with a smile like Vijay’s—all of those had the power to send him spinning back into the black void that his life had become after the accident.
And the guilt … Logically he knew he had no reason to feel guilty, but that didn’t change the fact that he did. There was a constant gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach—a whole squadron of ‘ifs’ hammering away inside his skull. If not for him his brother wouldn’t be dead. His mother wouldn’t have that constantly haunted look at the back of her eyes. His father wouldn’t go through life like a shell of his former self.
Vikram had had to break the news to his parents—he would never forget the look on his father’s face. A cheesy line from an old Hindi movie classic came back to him: ‘There is no burden on earth as heavy as the weight of a son’s coffin on his father’s shoulder.’ His dad looked nothing like the wrinkled white-haired actor who played the bereaved father in the movie, and he hadn’t broken down and sobbed when he’d learnt of his younger son’s death. He had squared his shoulders and put himself to the task of supporting and comforting his wife. But he’d been crushed all the same, greyingalmost overnight so that he looked a good ten years older than his age.
Tara moved away from the D’Souzas as soon as she could, and went in search of Vikram.
‘He’s talking to Lisa downstairs,’ one of Vikram’s assistants volunteered.
‘I didn’t know Lisa was here,’ Tara said. She’d run into Lisa a couple of times since she’d moved to Bengaluru. Once at a party similar to this one, and once accidentally in a store. Both times Lisa had been polite, but not very warm.
‘I think she came with Kunal Wilson,’ the girl said. ‘They’re supposed to be dating.’
Tara nodded and headed downstairs. She spotted Vikram and Lisa almost immediately—they were in an alcove near the foot of the stairs, and were standing very close to each other.
‘I’d feel so much better if you agreed. I don’t even know what you think about the marriage,’ Lisa was saying, her voice low and very intense.
Vikram laughed, and the bitterness in the sound made Tara wince. ‘I have no rights over you. It doesn’t matter what I think.’
‘You know it matters,’ she replied. ‘It mattersmore than what anyone else thinks—even my own mother.’
‘I have
‘I had a pet dog when I was a kid,’ Tara said. ‘I adored her. But she died after she’d been with us only a year. I was heartbroken.’
‘Oh, you poor thing!’ Sharon said. ‘My friend’s pug died a few months ago, and she’s been so upset her husband is thinking of getting her treated for depression.’
‘I can understand a kid being upset,’ Justin said. ‘But I wonder why adults are affected so badly when a pet dies. I mean, they
know
that animals have shorter lifespans.’
‘It’s more the case with dogs,’ Tara said thoughtfully. ‘People tend to treat a dog the way they’d treat a kid—and human emotions are wired to expect a kid to outlive the parents.’
Justin looked impressed ‘That’s pretty insightful,’ he said.
Vikram stood up. ‘I don’t think the two can compare,’ he said shortly. ‘Losing a child and losing a dog.’
Tara watched him walk to another set of guests and her heart thudded painfully. She should have known better than to go babbling on about parents losing a kid when she knew his brother had died. And it would be impossible to apologise later. He was so closed off on the subject.
It would never get better, Vikram thought as he mechanically responded to a remark a colleague had addressed to him. A chance comment could make all the blackness and grief of Vijay’s death seem as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Someone mentioning their own brother, an article about a road accident,a photograph of a young man with a smile like Vijay’s—all of those had the power to send him spinning back into the black void that his life had become after the accident.
And the guilt … Logically he knew he had no reason to feel guilty, but that didn’t change the fact that he did. There was a constant gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach—a whole squadron of ‘ifs’ hammering away inside his skull. If not for him his brother wouldn’t be dead. His mother wouldn’t have that constantly haunted look at the back of her eyes. His father wouldn’t go through life like a shell of his former self.
Vikram had had to break the news to his parents—he would never forget the look on his father’s face. A cheesy line from an old Hindi movie classic came back to him: ‘There is no burden on earth as heavy as the weight of a son’s coffin on his father’s shoulder.’ His dad looked nothing like the wrinkled white-haired actor who played the bereaved father in the movie, and he hadn’t broken down and sobbed when he’d learnt of his younger son’s death. He had squared his shoulders and put himself to the task of supporting and comforting his wife. But he’d been crushed all the same, greyingalmost overnight so that he looked a good ten years older than his age.
Tara moved away from the D’Souzas as soon as she could, and went in search of Vikram.
‘He’s talking to Lisa downstairs,’ one of Vikram’s assistants volunteered.
‘I didn’t know Lisa was here,’ Tara said. She’d run into Lisa a couple of times since she’d moved to Bengaluru. Once at a party similar to this one, and once accidentally in a store. Both times Lisa had been polite, but not very warm.
‘I think she came with Kunal Wilson,’ the girl said. ‘They’re supposed to be dating.’
Tara nodded and headed downstairs. She spotted Vikram and Lisa almost immediately—they were in an alcove near the foot of the stairs, and were standing very close to each other.
‘I’d feel so much better if you agreed. I don’t even know what you think about the marriage,’ Lisa was saying, her voice low and very intense.
Vikram laughed, and the bitterness in the sound made Tara wince. ‘I have no rights over you. It doesn’t matter what I think.’
‘You know it matters,’ she replied. ‘It mattersmore than what anyone else thinks—even my own mother.’
‘I have
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