Hasta-prāpya-stabaka-namito bāla-Mandāra-vṛkṣaḥ

Chapter Four

Mandar stood on the terrace of his family home, taking in the last hour of sunlight and trying to digest everything that had happened to him that day. He remembered an old song that Āī had taught him, with G. D. Madgulkar's words set to Rāga Yamana to suit the evening mood. He sang in his melodious baritone, spinning out the alluring notes and remembering how he loved to spend time up here, above the crowded busy world, under the vast empty sky.

Yā kātaraveḷī

Pāhijesa tū zavaḷī, pāhijesa tū zavaḷī

At this evening hour,

I want you near me, I want you near me

Divasa zāya buḍuna pāra

Lalita nabhī megha cāra

Pusaṭa tyāsa zarikināra

Usavi tīça sāṃza khuḷī, sāṃza khuḷī

Pāhijesa tū zavaḷī, pāhijesa tū zavaḷī

The day is leaving, sinking away

Just four playful clouds in the sky

As its blurry shimmering border

Unravelled by that silly evening, silly evening

I want you near me, I want you near me

Mandar had learned his name today; he had met his wife Pallavi who was now remarried to Raghav, the same man who had looked after him as he lay bleeding in the street, who had chosen the name Rajiv for him, but who wouldn't throw him a kind word now. Mandar had talked Raghav through a panic attack; then he had stood transfixed as Kirti castigated herself for leaving him to die, and he had found comfort in Farhad, who handled the stressful situation calmly and capably. Mandar was recovering memories of his family ... and now he knew that that woman was Sulochana Kākū.

He should call Amma. He pulled out his phone and did just that. Dr. Ramya answered quickly.

"Amma, it's Raja. Mandar. I'm with my family, but alone on the terrace so we can talk."

"Yes, Mandar, say whatever you are feeling."

"Before that, Amma, I have to tell you this. The woman who brought me to you wasn't a stranger. She is from my own family, my Sulochana Kākū. Fortunately, Pallavi showed me her photo while we were on our way in the car, so I was prepared. I didn't let Sulochana Kākū see that I remember what she did. Amma, why would she abandon me instead of taking me home?"

"Raja, Mandar, I don't know. That woman with the letter Su on her bindī? I never saw her before she showed up at my clinic with you. She said that she was riding in a taxi on the highway when she saw you stumbling along, bandaged and drugged, so she took you into the taxi. When she saw the sign for my clinic, she thought that a psychiatrist would know what you needed, so she came in and asked me to take charge. I believed what she said."

"Amma, I miss you already. I am starting to remember my Āī-Bābā, my little brother Nikhil and my little sisters Manasi and Amruta, my Kākā and Kākū - but just that one untrustworthy person in my family makes me feel unsafe."

"Remember what we say in therapy - if you know someone is on the wrong side, he can't lead you astray. You and Vishnu will be careful, in case Sulochana Kākū plays any more tricks. What about Pallavi? Are you remembering your wife at all?"

"Yes, Amma, I remember some conversations with Pallavi, and our wedding. We could have been happy if I hadn't disappeared. Amma ... Amma, I found out that my Bābā threw Pallavi out of the house."