Chapter 4

Sheetal’s dead. The statement had no meaning.

The time was now 11:30 a.m

I had spoken to her hardly ten hours back. I could still hear

her voice in my head.

Any romantic calls?

Her laughter was still echoing in my mind; over and over. I

was lying down on the bed, looking at the ceiling, my eyes

brimming with tears. The world seemed different. It was

scary; like the one I saw in my dream.

Just a few hours back, I was happy; I had Sheetal.

Now there was neither!

Who could possibly do this to her? She was soft and

shy. Nobody can hate her. She was such a darling.

Do you suspect anyone? The officer’s question came into

my mind. Yeah right! Suspect! As though she was doing an

underground operation and got caught in the act. I have

always heard about gory murders happening in papers and

on TV.

But I never expected it to happen in my own life. That too

to Sheetal!

“Reena!” a voice called out; bringing me back to reality.

I got up. My mom walked into the room, followed by my

dad.

“Are you okay, Reena?” my dad asked, his face grave.

“I am ok,” I said, wiping away the tears

“Ma, Her body . . .” My voice trailing off.

“I am sorry about Sheetal,” Mom and Dad said in unison.

“Please get me out of here, Dad. I don’t want to stay here,” I

said, still crying.

“Just relax. We will start in a while. The detective wants to

talk to us before leaving,” Mom said.

I stood up, my body still trembling in fear. I felt feverish.

We walked out of the room into the hall. Sheetal’s mom

was sitting in the sofa. She was a small woman, fair and

skinny. She had black hair, graying in places. She wore a

brown saree. Her features were very different from Sheetal’s;

Sheetal looked more like her dad. She looked up at us when

we entered the hall. Her eyes were bloodshot. She must have

been crying for a long time, I thought.

It was an awkward moment. What should I say to her now?

Whatever I say will make her misery even worse and I don’t

want to remind her again about the terrible thing that had

happened. Thank God, my mom came to the rescue.

“Shanthi, I am sorry about . . . .” My mom started, but

couldn’t finish.

Sheetal’s mom looked away trying to control the unbearable

pain inside.

I turned away. I couldn’t watch. Not today. Not any time after

today. Yet I had to say something before leaving. Without

looking up, I said, “I am sorry.”

She remained quiet. Naturally, it would be hard for her to

talk at this point in time. Leaving me to my thoughts, my

mom walked to her. I looked around for my dad.

He was talking to Officer Amir, gesturing me to come over.

“You better leave. If you have to go out of the city, inform

us. We may want to question you anytime. Is that okay?” the

detective asked me.

“Yes sir,” I said.

“Okay then. Take care,” he said, turning towards Officer

Gaurav.

We walked out of the house, watching the uniformed men

trying to put up the crime-scene tape to barricade entrance

to the stairs.

Dad drove the car while my mom and I sat in the back seat,

not bothering to talk the entire way home.

Once home, I went to my room and closed the door. I stood

there for what seemed like an eternity. I was not quite stable,

my eyes wandering around without any focus. Everything

scared me. The whole world looked menacing now. The

thought of the killer still out there somewhere made me

shake.

Who was he? Why did he have to do this to Sheetal? I assumed

that it would have been a male. But I was also sceptical about

that. I went up to the bed and lay down.

I thought about the events which took place from the

morning, and eventually I dozed off. I had no dreams. Only

nightmares! The world had showed me its true colours. It was

no longer a happy place to live in. It was filled with unseen

monsters. I could see the happy face of Sheetal. The happy

moments we had in college. Those were glorious moments!

Just like they came, they vanished into thin air.

Then there was blood!

Those horrific eyes, filled with blood!

Staring right at me!

I woke up screaming, my dress drenched with sweat.

“Reena! Are you alright?” my mom asked me, running into

my room.

My breath came in gasps. I couldn’t even speak.

“What happened? Why . . .?”

“Wat . . . water” I stuttered.

“Hang on dear!” she said, hurrying over to my table to get

the bottle.

I felt better now.

“Did you have a bad dream or something?” she asked with

concern.

“Just leave me alone for now, Mom. I will come out once I

feel better,” I said, without looking at her.

She didn’t reply.

“I am fine, Mom. Please . . .” my voice trailed off.

“Take a nap. You will feel better,” she said.

Yeah, right! Sleep meant more nightmares. Sleep was

becoming an ordeal for me, a time filled with gore and blood.

It scared me, more than reality. I sat there, looking around.

One question echoed in my mind.

Who would want to kill her?

Rrrring!

I jumped up with a start, coming back to reality.

It was the phone ringing. I walked over to the table and

picked up the receiver.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Hello Reena. Shekhar here,” Shekhar was also close to

Sheetal. As far as I knew, he was a nice guy.

“Tell me,” I said, my voice showing no emotion.

“What happened, Reena?” he said, his voice betraying pain.

“What?” I asked him curtly.

“Sheetal’s murder,” he said, his voice sounding serious.

“How did you know?” I asked him, surprised.

“Sheetal’s dad called me now. The funeral is at 5 p.m. He

asked me to convey the message to Sheetal’s friends, including

you,” he said.

“Oh!” I sighed.

“I am sorry about Sheetal. She was close to you. Do you

have any idea.. .I mean… who did this?” he asked, sounding

anxious.

“I have been asking the same question to myself! But I don’t

have any idea. You were also close to her. Did she say anything

unusual lately?” I asked him.

“Not that I can think of. The last time I called her, she told

me that she was in no mood to talk. I guess it was last week,”

he said.

“Oh! When did you call her last week? I met her last Monday.

She didn’t tell me anything,” I said.

“I think it was Thursday. I was bored so I called her just for

a chat. She said she was in no mood to talk. I asked her why

and she said nothing. After pleading with her for a long time,

she told me it was Rahul,” he said.

“Rahul? But she didn’t tell me anything about it! I wonder

why. I called her this morning,” I said, confused.

“You called her this morning? When?” he asked, shocked.

“Shekhar, I really don’t want to go into that. If you will excuse

me, I have some work to do,” I said curtly, surprised at the

tone of my voice.

“Okay. Will meet you in the funeral. Bye,” he said and hung

up.

I replaced the receiver and lay down on the bed, staring at the

ceiling. Now that was weird. I had no idea why Sheetal didn’t

tell her problem to me. She always confided her problems to

me. Was she hiding something?

I lay down in my bed with a lot of questions in my head.

And what was up with Rahul? For the last four years, she had

never told me even once that she had a problem with Rahul.

I didn’t know when I dozed off. When I woke up, it was 4:30

p.m. The funeral was at 5 p.m.

Dad drove the car while my mom and I maintained silence.

I knew she didn’t want to talk to me after my outburst. I

reached Sheetal’s house and I could see a large crowd

standing outside, lots of familiar faces, my friends, her

friends. Without looking at any of them, I marched straight

into the hall with my parents. Shekhar stood in the far end

of the hall with Rajesh and some of Rahul’s friends. But I

couldn’t find Rahul. Ramya, Suji, Priya, Ayesha and Ishita

were sitting beside Sheetal’s mother, gloom and shock on

their faces. Sheetal’s mother was sitting beside Sheetal’s body,

her face red. Her dad sat beside her. He was a short man, a

tad fat, bald. His eyes were red and his face was swollen. I

could understand his pain. While Sheetal’s mom was strict,

her dad was a fun-loving person and he was very close with

his daughter. I was only able to look at him from the far

end of the room. I didn’t have the courage to go up to him.

Everyone stood up. The funeral procession was about to start.

The ladies were requested to see her face for the last time.

That was the most difficult moment! Sheetal’s mother started

crying. My eyes began to well up again. I could see all my friends

crying now, even the guys. Sheetal had been a wonderful

friend. I don’t know about others. But for me, she was the best.

The place became gloomier after the proceedings started. I

quickly left the house. Dad wanted to go for the procession,

so Mom agreed to drive. I opened the car door when I

remembered something. I turned towards the entrance.

Rahul’s friends were just starting for the procession. Kishore

was among them. Rahul introduced him to us a couple of

years back. He also played for the district team. I had talked

to him once or twice. He was a stud, tall and hefty. He had

black hair and was reasonably fair. I slowly approached him.

When he saw me, his eyes showed signs of recognition.

“Hi Reena. I . . . I am sorry about Sheetal. I know how you . .

. .” he said, trying his best to seem concerned.

“I am fine,” I replied, cutting him off. “Where is Rahul?”

“He said he is not well,” he said.

“Oh! But he must have come for yesterday’s game in Vellore,

right?” I asked him with curiosity.

“He didn’t play the match yesterday. I was quite shocked since

he has never missed a match from his college days. Especially

because the game yesterday was the semi-finals,” he said.

I was stunned into silence.

“Did . . . did he come for the match, just to watch at least?” I

asked him, anxiety building inside me.

“No. He didn’t come for the match. He was right here in

Chennai.”

Without saying bye to him, I walked back to our car in a

trance, with only one question in my mind.

Was Rahul the one who was ringing the bell when Sheetal

hung up?