“Another mail from him?” asked Raman in disbelief. “How is
that even possible?”
“That is what I don’t understand Dada. How can Shyam come
back? I hope someone is not playing a dirty joke on us.” said Alok shaking his
head.
“Read out the mail to me,” said Baba, pulling a chair for
himself and settling down in front of the desktop. His eyes betrayed any
expression that he so stoically hid underneath the cloak of his wrinkled face.
“Adarniya Baba and
Mai,
I hope you got my
previous mail. I was eagerly waiting for your reply but I was disappointed to
see that you had not replied. Have you forgotten your Shyam, Baba? You always
told me I was your favourite son, haven’t you? You always gave me everything I ever asked for. You have always loved me more than both my brothers. These years of separation have been a pain
and I long to be with you all again. Does Mai still make my favorite puranpoli
on my birthday? Can’t wait to see you all again.
Pranam to you both,
Shyam”
A lone tear escaped
unseen from Baba’s eyes as he saw Mai wipe hers with the end of her Navari
saree.
“I want to meet this boy, call him home tomorrow” said Baba.
Ever since the first mail had arrived, the Joshi family had
been in a state of shock and disbelief. Now with the second mail, Baba’s sons
were under suspicion. ‘Who was playing this
trick on the family? What could be their intentions?’
“ Alok, could it
be Shyam? Is he really back?” Raman looked lost.
“Dada, how could you say such things, I can understand Mai
and Baba being emotional, but you know Shyam is dead, don’t you? We have lit
his pyre with our own hands. The dead don’t come back Dada.”
“The language is just like our Shyam’s…the mail id is
Shyam’s…. the incidents he has been writing about are all true…it is
unmistakable. It has to be Shyam.”
“Hacking someone’s mail id is not a difficult job, dada, and
who knows, maybe it is the work of someone close to our family and who knows
all of us quite well.”
“But why now, after 15 years?”
Alok had no answer this time. That is what he had been
trying to figure out, why would someone try to come back to the family as Shyam
after 15 years?
“I have no idea, dada, that is what I am trying to figure out. Anyway, I’ll do as baba has asked me to. Let us meet him first.”
He replied to the mail, hands trembling as he typed Shyam’s
name, an eerie feeling creeping over him.
“Shyam,
Come home tomorrow at
11am. We all want to meet you.”
He couldn’t bring himself to write, Dear Shyam or sign his name at the end. ‘Let me see who this fake
Shyam is’ he thought.
Glossary:
Baba- father
Mai- mother
Dada- elder brother
Puranpoli- sweet pancakes
Navari- nine yard saree
