The Madras Affair by Sundari Venkatraman

Author:Sundari Venkatraman
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Published: 2015-09-19T18:30:00+00:00

Gautam turned away from the sight of Sangita hugging Butterscotch, his body wracked in pain. God! He was surely going crazy, seeing Sangita whichever way he turned. He could well comprehend why some people were desperate enough to commit suicide after a relationship failed. A lesser man would have probably done just that.

After a minute he turned again to look out of the window to see Butterscotch standing alone. He had been hallucinating! A bitter smile curled his lips. Some hope! His trembling hand sought the cigarette packet as he pulled one to light it. He dragged on it deeply, hoping it will calm him.

Gautam thought he heard a light knock on his door. He wasn't sure. He shrugged his wide shoulders within a blue T-shirt that hung lank on his frame as he had lost a lot of weight. He couldn't give a damn. He must have imagined it. Both his grandparents and Ramanna knew better than to disturb him. He had made it very clear that he wanted to be left alone in his misery. Only his threat that he'd leave for the United States had got his adoring grandparents off his back. At that moment, he didn't really care if he hurt them. He was sure that they of all people would understand that he would rather lick his wounds in private.

The knock was there again, louder.

Gautam spat out a profanity as he wrenched open the door and barked, “I thought I'd made it clear that I wanna be left alone...” The sentence trailed in mid-air as his shocked gaze met Sangita's.

She was shaken at the sight of Gautam's gaunt figure, a cigarette burning away in his right hand.

His golden-brown hair was a mess as if he had run his fingers through them again and again. There was a thick growth of beard on his cheeks and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked unkempt, to put it mildly.

She walked into the room, eyeing him warily. He looked like a caged lion, ready to pounce.

“To what do I owe the honour of this visit?” he asked sarcastically, the words slurring.

“Are you drunk, Gautam?” asked Sangita, her eyes fearful.

“And thus she greets me.” Gautam rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, indignation in his stance. “I'm fine, thank you, kind lady,” he said sarcastically.

“I asked you a question,” said Sangita doggedly. She was clear that she didn't want to deal with a drunken man.

“Believe me, I wish I were. I tried it last Sunday. It brought me no relief and I hated myself the next morning.” He paused to catch his breath. “Now tell me why you've come, Sangita? To find out if I'm alive or dead?”

The dart hit home, bull's eye. Colour suffused Sangita's face as her eyes darkened with hurt and anguish.

Gautam swore profusely as he felt like a heel when he saw her hurt with the pain he had inflicted.

“I'm sorry, Sangita. That was uncalled for.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh.

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