“What…..how…..” I staggered. “ Who knew running into some stupid guys will make my name end up in newspaper”
“ So, my daughter is on the newspaper “ Dad said proudly and patted my back. I winced.
“ Dad, again forget that I’m injured, your-got-her-name-on-the-newspaper daughter will not control her instincts.”
Dad flinched playfully.
My dad is a very touchy-feely person unlike me or mom. Whereas, I even tend to bend people’s arms on sudden touch on instinct.
After that, dad had bragged for more than half an hour about how much he is proud of me and how I must have gotten my bravery from him (in your dream dad, you jump seeing a lizard). I will spare you boredom and Myself embarrassment by not going to details. I must say I can’t. I shot of zoned out when he started his all so famous I-am-your-Dad-that’s why-you-are-so-good lecture. Usually when dad does that, it’s like mum’s life’s duty to interrupt him with sarcastic comments. But those didn’t come, which lengthened dad’s lecture a bit more. At last when I thought it’s near to end, I said “mum won’t you say anything?” Her eyebrows were knitted together, and her gaze was unfocused. Maybe she zoned out too?
“ This can’t be good” mom said after a long pause.
“ Why? I know Suda, you don’t like publicity” Dad said “ But don’t you think Nyssa’s bravery is going to inspire other girls to be brave and fight for their own safety?”
Mom simply shook her head “ Still, I have a bad feeling about it.”
As if on the cue, the land phone rang. Mom went to receive it.
“ Yes . . . . . . . No . . . . . . I won’t allow . . . . . . She is injured . . . . . . . No, sorry” mom cut the line and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“ Who?” I asked. What I heard from mom’s words on phone, it was about me. But what?
“ Reporters” mom said and shot dad an this-is-what-I-feared look. But he ignored her. “ Why didn’t you allow?”
Now it was mom’s turn to ignore him. She came and sat beside me, carefully placing a hand on my shoulder. “They want to take your interview. They want to make a bigger story on you. I don’t think that would be very good. What do you think?”
“ I agree mom” I said, but before I could say anything else, the phone rang again. Again a reporter. Then again. Every fifteen minute, a call from various reporters came. When mom finished refusing the reporter for the fifth time her cell phone rang.
“ Is the whole day going to pass this way?” Mom groaned, as dad handed her the mobile, then she frowned. “Damini?”
“ Damini aunty? Why?”
“ Let’s see.” Mom said as she received the call, and put it on speaker.
-“ Hello!” The voice of Damini aunty rang out.
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-“ Hello! Everything alright?” Mom asked.
-“ Well, yes. Just the reporters are giving a headache. Are you getting calls too?”
-“ Yeah. But I told them no.”
-“ Same here. In fact Oli is barely talking, much less give an interview. “
-“ Is she alright?” Mom asked. There was silence for sometime, then Damini aunty spoke “ I guess, the girls should talk a bit. This incident reminds her of. . . . .” She stopped “Anyway, how’s Nyssa?”
-“ ‘Says she’s fine.” Mom assured “ Want to talk?”
-“ Not now Suda-didi, I just called to check on Nyssa and to know what to do with these reporters “
-“ Just straight no. If Oli does not want to give an interview, they can’t force her to.”
-“ Okay.” Damini aunty sounded relieved and cut the line. Maybe she too, shared mom’s publicity-phobia.
Mum then went to kitchen again, instructing Dad to refuse any request coming from a reporter, to which he begrudgingly agreed. I had a feeling Mom is going to cook something good today (a) because a Dad’s home after 4 months (b) her daughter is injured. Mummys always cook something yummy when their little girls are injured. Yikes! I let that feeling fuel my enthusiasm.
I asked dad to help me over to my room. There I sat on my bed, and flopped open my physics book. Exams are nearing. I have tests in a month. As much as I hate to say it, I got to study before my boards, or I can’t take psychology as my higher studies.
I studied the properties of electric waves for what felt like an eternity, then mum called me to eat.
Steaming rice with ghee, fried potatoes and fried Bata( fish). Your typical yet the best bengali breakfast. And about the Bata? No words shall be spoken. That’s my favourite fish. Well, after Hilsha. Nothing can rival Hilsha. So anyway, I was stuffing the food heartily, and dad was saying that how bad it is that they don’t get this food in Bhopal.
-“ Okay, okay Deep, enough for today, now listen up.” Mom interrupted and turned to me “ Nyssa, when I’ll be gone to work, I would like you to prepare the proves we need to ensure the criminal’s punishment. Your dad will help you.” I nodded.
After I finished my food, mom got dressed, bade us goodbye and went off to work.
- * * * * *
-“ Can I know what are you doing?” Dad demanded as he entered my room. I was standing at one side of my room, in front of the punching bag. Well, not standing exactly, I was rolling my neck, shoulder and hand (the good one). Rolling my waist, thigh and ankles. Most basic stretching.
-“ Exercise?” I mumbled.
-“ Don’t you think resting would be a better option after yesterday?”
-“ But dad, I have to make my sore muscles work!”
-“ That can wait a day.” He snapped.
-“ But I have to be up for tuition as soon as possible. It won’t help if I just sit back and wait.” I threw back. That seemed to satisfy him. Parents always appreciate anything done for studies. Yikes!
Dad shrugged and sat on my bed folding out the laptop he was carrying, then waved me over. “ Enough for one day, now let’s do the job your mum assigned you with.”
I smiled and went to sit beside him and took out the kubotan from my pocket.
The flat end of it is detachable.
?
I slowly unscrewed it like a lid. Inside was a small Hollow. I dumped the stuff inside on my palm. A small chip recorder. It records every word spoken by me or people in my surroundings. I picked it up and gave it to Dad who instantly started to download the contents recorded in it. “I thought you a joking when you said you carry it everywhere”
I smiled. Why won’t I? People keep diary I keep voice records. Mum always says that it’s good to keep valid tracks of things we do. And this day it came to help me.
The chip was a gift from my uncle (husband of my maternal aunt). He is an electronic engineer. He gave me the recorder at my 16th birthday gift. He also helped me cut the groove in my kubotan to store it. I have always carried it since then.
Within a few minutes all the recordings were downloaded and we started to locate the exact clip we wanted. Everything was clearly recorded, from the click of pens from the tuition class to Oli’s screams, rods hitting our backs to chains slashing at limbs. Those sound were making me queasy. My heart pounded thinking what would and could have happened if something went wrong. It was really a horrible horrible feeling. As each sound from last night played out, my brain started showing me flash backs.
I shook my head, trying to keep out the horrors. Dad put an arm around my shoulder. “It’s okay beta, you don’t need to relive those moments, I will take it in another room.”
“Na baba, the more I will try to pretend last night never happened, the more it will eat away my brain. Also at least I got out from their clutches, my dignity still intact, many girls can’t, how horrible is their life? I am okay.”
Dad cropped the necessary parts and stored it in a pendrive when the doorbell rang. He went to check and then came the booming voice of my maths tutor, Anik sir.
Why is he here? I thought as dad called me over to the drawing room.
I went by myself, since the stretching did pretty good to my sore limbs. Anik sir smiled at my sight, “ Are you okay Tanisha?”
-“ Yeah” I said as I sat on the sofa.
“You don’t look like it.” He frowned at my bandaged arm. Urgh! The same thing happened when I broke my ribs in a Karate tournament. No one believed that I'm doing fine ( they had reasons).
I shrugged and looked at him. He understood that I want to know why is he here, and started to explain. “ I read the article today. So, I thought I should check on you two. After all, it all happened while returning from my classes.” He sighed and shook his head. He told us that had also gone to Oli’s house this morning. Then Dad started to give him the whole tale. Why Dad?
Anik sir listened intently. Then gave me a get-well-soon wish and left.
I went to my room to study physics again. After a few minutes Dad came to my room. I looked up to find him standing pale faced.
-“ Dad, anything wrong?”
-“ Um…….Nyssa……..The thing is…..Inspector Dhar called.” He said slowly.
-“ Inspector Dhar.” I repeated “ What did he say?”
What he said made my hand to automatically reach up to flick my ponytail.
-“ Um……The guy you stabbed…..he… he is dead.”