The Last Love Letter

Chapter 42

The next morning, Akash woke up before Subah. He was groggy for a few seconds, but as he fully woke up to the fact that he was in Subah’s room, he was relieved to realize that all was well. Deciding not to disturb her, he prepared a cup of tea for himself and turned to look at her. Just looking at her calm face as she slept was so peaceful that Akash didn’t get annoyed with himself when he realized that his tea had turned cold. He brought the cup to his mouth and discovered, for the first time, that cold tea didn’t taste all that bad. How long had he been staring at her face?

After he finished his tea, he quietly slipped out and freshened up in his own room. At 9, he was back in Subah’s room, only to find that she was still sleeping. The medicine, he thought, and wondered if he should wake her up. He decided not to and parted the curtains to look out the window. From where he stood, he could see cars and people moving soundlessly past restaurants, souvenir shops and designer stores. The pavement was full of people of all ages, hurrying to get to their destinations to start their day. He imagined them calculating prices in their heads as they moved, wondering if it would rain before they reached their journey’s end, cursing politicians for the state of affairs and mulling over whether it was the right time to snack on their next vada pav. He allowed the curtain to fall back in place and turned towards the bed.

At that moment, he saw Subah stir and open her eyes. She smiled. He smiled back.

Without asking, he prepared a cup of tea and placed it next to her as she sat up and leant against the headboard. ‘How are you feeling today?’

‘Reborn.’

‘Good enough to visit the gallery?’

‘Yes, I want to be near my babies.’

Knowing she was referring to her paintings, Akash smiled. ‘That’s wonderful. I’ll be waiting in my room. Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll call a cab.’

‘Sure, but let’s walk. The exercise will do me good. I don’t think it’s more than 200 metres anyway.’

He nodded and returned to his room. The fact that she was feeling better had changed the equation between them. From that moment on, he would have to be careful she didn’t get the wrong idea. He was there to support her, nothing more. And as soon as he felt she was well enough to take care of herself, he would leave on the first plane.

An hour later, they walked to the gallery. It was around 11, and there weren’t many visitors. Mr Taraporewala was there, talking to some people, and as soon as he saw Subah, he beamed and rushed towards her.

‘Such a pleasure to see you, Miss Subah. How are you feeling today?’

‘Thank you, I’m fine.’

‘Hello, Mr Akash.’

‘Good morning, Mr Taraporewala.’

‘The newspapers have been kind. Have you seen the coverage?’

Akash and Subah exchanged looks. They’d completely forgotten to check the newspapers.

Mr Taraporewala escorted them to one side, where there were many newspapers scattered on a circular table. ‘Sorry for the mess. I was trying to cut out the coverage to prepare a folder and send it to your hotel.’

Subah was touched. So was Akash.

Mr Taraporewala started to shuffle through the newspapers. ‘Okay, so let me arrange them in some order. Yeah, this here is DNA. Here are The Indian Express and Hindustan Times. Even, surprisingly, The Times of India. A few Marathi papers too.’
He placed them in order and invited her to take a look.

Akash looked around for a chair so Subah could sit and read. There was one in the far corner, and he walked across and carried it back. ‘Here, sit.’

She looked up from the DNA newspaper she was reading, smiled and sat down after thanking him. Akash picked up another paper. The two of them silently consumed the news coverage for the next twenty minutes, as Mr Taraporewala went around helping people who walked in.

Akash was happy. The newspaper coverage was much better than he’d hoped. Most was a mix of what he had shared in the press release and what the reporters had observed during the opening. Mr Gaitonde’s remarks were widely reported.
Even though it was to be expected, the fact that more than two-thirds of all the reports focused on the attack on Subah made Akash feel a shade uncomfortable at the increasing commodification of the news. And yet, on the whole, he was happy. At least the people of Mumbai now knew about the exhibition.

He excused himself and moved to another table, where he opened his laptop to check the live updates on social media. Here, too, the results were better than he’d expected. He used his phone to take pictures of the news articles and added them to all the social media extensions he was using in the campaign.

‘Thank you, Akash, this is fantastic.’ Subah walked towards him, her hands extended. There were tears in her eyes.

He took her hands and hugged her. It was a friendly hug. ‘You deserve all the attention, Subah. You’re one special person.’

They heard Mr Taraporewala return and disengaged themselves.

Subah hugged Mr Taraporewala.
Akash excused himself again and called home to speak to his mother. Then he called Rohit and explained the events of the previous night in detail.

‘This is a typical case of PTSD. You need to be careful, Akash. Many victims of this kind of violence have suicidal tendencies. You did the right thing by staying in her room. I honestly feel she should return here to Delhi. Familiar surroundings will help her recover faster.’

‘Let me see if I can convince her to come back. From what little I know of her, she is very stubborn and will not leave her exhibition halfway through.’

‘You think I should arrange for Bala to go there? She’s feeling better now, and having the two women close to each other will make things a lot easier.’

‘That’s a good idea. But two problems come to mind. One, the cost, and two, she will be of little use in a strange city. Come to think of it, she most likely will be more of a liability for Subah than any help.’

‘Money isn’t a major issue. I can take care of it. But I think you’re right about the other reason.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Anyway, let’s see how well she copes. Stay close to her, and if you see anything odd, just call a doctor, okay?’

‘Sure, thanks.’

‘Bye.’