NOVONEEL CHAKRABORTY

FORGET ME NOT, STRANGER

RANDOM HOUSE INDIA

 Contents

Prologue

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Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Follow Random House

Copyright
 About the Author

Novoneel Chakraborty is the bestselling author of six romance thrillers. Forget Me Not, Stranger is
his seventh novel and the third in the immensely popular Stranger trilogy. He works in the Indian films
and television industry, penning popular television shows like Million Dollar Girl, Twist Wala Love,
and Secret Diaries for Channel V. He lives in Mumbai.
You can reach him at:

Email: [email protected]
Facebook: officialnbc
Twitter: @novoxeno
Instagram: @novoneelchakraborty

He runs a blog—NovoSphere—on life and its lessons at: www.nbconline.blogspot.com

By the same author
A Thing beyond Forever
That Kiss in the Rain
How About a Sin Tonight?
Ex

Stranger Trilogy
Marry Me, Stranger
All Yours, Stranger
 For . . .

The two souls I can’t name.

One happens to be the most prized experience of my life.
The other, the most significant event.
Three things can’t be long hidden:
the sun, the moon and the truth
The Buddha
 Prologue

She was lost in the dark, dense forest. It was worse since she wasn’t alone. Someone was following
her, and had been for quite some time.
Her eyes were used to the darkness by now. She kept running, unsure of the direction. She had not
seen the face of the person she was running from but she had an eerie feeling she would be cornered
the moment she stopped. And so she ran, even though her legs were about to give way. She paused for
a moment to catch her breath, and turned to look. Some dead leaves crackled in the distance and fear
woke up in her guts once again.
Rivanah Bannerjee started running again. She checked her phone for the umpteenth time but there
was still no network. She quickly checked the messages she had sent Danny. None of them had been
delivered yet. She couldn’t even shout for help because, for one, there was nobody in the forest and,
two, it would only alert her follower and help track her down all the more easily. Just as she was
about to collapse from exhaustion, Rivanah noticed a light in the distance. From where she was
standing, Rivanah couldn’t say what the source of the light was. But a light in the middle of the forest
gave her hope. She took a deep breath and ran towards it with gusto. As she approached the light, she
saw that it was inside what looked like an abandoned house. A huge banyan tree had spread its
branches all over the wooden house—like a curse hanging above it.
When she reached the house, she peeped in through the window. Her breathing slowly regained a
normal pace. There were four lanterns, one at each corner of the room, giving it a hauntingly erotic
ambience. The room was barely furnished otherwise.
Right in the middle of the room was a naked man on his knees with his back to her. Around the
man’s neck were wrapped two shapely female legs. The man’s mouth was right between the girl’s
legs. The girl suddenly popped her head up—her eyes were rolled back in ecstasy. As Rivanah got a
good look of the girl’s face, her heart stopped. She was staring at her own image! The Rivanah who
was clutching the man’s hair with both hands suddenly looked directly at the Rivanah peeping in
through the window.
‘Hello, Hiya!’ the Rivanah inside the house said to the one outside. The man paused for a moment
but didn’t turn. He slowly held her throat with both hands and said aloud, ‘Death is the ultimate
orgasm, Mini.’ He tightened his grip on her throat. Rivanah started to lose her senses. She could feel
the pressure of the man’s hands choking her windpipe. She tried to break free but couldn’t. There was
nobody who could help her except for her own ‘image’ standing by the window, helpless. The
Rivanah at the window felt her feet turn to ice. She desperately wanted to escape. She felt her breath
becoming shorter as if the man was pressing her throat instead of the girl’s inside. An acute survival
instinct finally gave her the energy to move. Rivanah went around the house looking for the main door.
When she found it, she couldn’t push it open. She banged hard, kicked it a few times but it wouldn’t
budge. The Rivanah inside the house was choking. The kicks on the door were relentless now and
grew more intense. Finally the door crashed open and Rivanah ran towards the man who was holding
the naked Rivanah by her throat. Before she could reach him, the man turned around to face her.
She opened her eyes wide. All she could see was a whitewashed ceiling with a static white fan.
She saw Danny lying by her side, his face turned away from her. For a moment Rivanah thought she
was still in her nightmare. She forcibly turned Danny’s face towards her. She relaxed.
‘What happened?’ Danny asked in a sleepy voice.
‘Nothing,’ Rivanah said, feeling guilty for having disturbed his sleep. It was a nightmare, after all
—a super-weird one all right, but a nightmare nevertheless.
‘Go back to sleep,’ she said. Danny obediently closed his eyes.
A quick look at her phone told her it was 10.45 in the night. Rivanah was about to get up to fetch
some water when she heard a bell ring a couple of times. She ambled to the window and noticed an
ice-cream wallah within the building premises. A family of four was buying ice creams from him. The
sight made her miss her college days when Ekansh, her ex-boyfriend, would come over to her place at
midnight and together they would have ice creams from a particular joint run by Ekansh’s friend.
Though the thought of Ekansh made her feel sour, a sudden urge to have ice cream possessed her. One
look at Danny and his open mouth and soft snores told her he wouldn’t come along. She picked up her
wallet and quietly slipped out of the flat.
She bought herself a bar of khatta-meetha-aam-flavoured ice cream. After finishing one, she bought
another to take back to her flat. By then the family of four had gone. Taking the money from Rivanah,
the ice-cream wallah too turned to make an exit from the building premises.
As Rivanah walked towards her building entrance, there was a loud splash. Somebody had thrown
a bucketful of water on her from above. Drenched from head to toe, she angrily looked up to
reprimand the culprit but saw no one.
‘Asshole!’ she screamed out. There was a strange smell emanating from her clothes. She sniffed—
and stopped dead in her tracks. What she had mistaken for water was, in fact, kerosene! Rivanah
looked up again. Something like an arrow was travelling fast towards her. A flaming arrow.
‘Oh my God!’ she gasped, knowing well it wasn’t a dream any more. The smell of the kerosene
was real. The fire was real. She was real. Her fear was real. Rivanah had only a few seconds to
move before the fiery missile touched her and burnt her to the ground. But her feet seemed to have
frozen with fear. Just like in the nightmare. As the fireball neared her, her mind had already started a
countdown—5—4—3—2 . . .
 1

‘Hey, you should call Aunty back. She has already called thrice,’ Ishita said once Rivanah came out
of the shower.
‘I don’t know why Mumma keeps worrying even though I’m in Kolkata, my hometown,’ Rivanah
said, picking up her phone. Rivanah was feeling sick ever since she had come back to Ishita’s PG
from Hiya’s house in Agarpara. She could feel fear flutter in her guts. Will the stranger really kill
her? Was he a stalker cum serial killer?
Ishita had been coaxing Rivanah to eat something but she didn’t feel like it. Rivanah tried to sleep
but feared that when she opened her eyes, she would see the stranger standing right in front of her,
waiting to kill her. Just like he must have compelled Hiya Chowdhury to kill herself, she thought.
Ishita had asked her to take a long, warm shower in order to relax. It sounded like a good idea. And
now that she was done with the shower, Rivanah was indeed better.
‘Hello, Mumma, what happened?’ She finally called her mother back.
‘Mini, come home. Now!’ Her mother sounded petrified.
Rivanah’s heart skipped a beat. Something terrible must have happened.
‘What’s wrong, Mumma?’ Rivanah sounded equally terrified.
There was no response for a moment and then her mother said calmly, ‘Nothing. I’m just feeling
lonely. Come home now, Mini!’
This was strange. Suddenly her mother sounded as if everything was all right. ‘You scared me,
Mumma. Anyway, I’m coming home. And I’m bringing Ishita along.’
‘No, not now,’ Mrs Bannerjee shot back instantly.
‘Why?’
‘We have to go out for lunch to your baba’s colleague’s place.’
‘Today?’
‘Yes, today. In fact, in a few hours. So come home immediately.’
‘Okay, Mumma. I’m coming.’ Why did her mother sound so . . . unlike herself?
‘What happened?’ Ishita asked, entering the room with two cups of green tea. She gave one to
Rivanah.
‘No, thanks. I need to go now. Have a luncheon to attend,’ Rivanah said, combing her hair in front
of a full-length mirror in the room.
‘With Ekansh?’
Rivanah shot her a glance and sighed, ‘Baba’s colleague.’
‘Okay, I get it,’ Ishita said, sipping her green tea. Rivanah shrugged.
 ‘Your mother wants to introduce you to another of your arranged-marriage guys.’
Rivanah rolled her eyes realizing Ishita was right. How could she have missed that?
‘Wish me luck,’ Rivanah said, and left.
A few hours later, Rivanah’s father met her and her mother outside the Esplanade metro station, and
they drove in his Alto to Kalikapur. Rivanah didn’t say much during the journey. It was obvious in the
way her mother had asked her to ‘dress properly’ while she herself wore her latest buy—a Baluchari
sari. They could try but Rivanah had no intention of getting married just yet. She was sure her parents
hadn’t told her the real reason for the luncheon fearing she wouldn’t go with them.
The Bannerjee family were received warmly by Manick Dutta on their arrival.
‘So nice to see you, Mr Bannerjee,’ he said, hugging Rivanah’s father. Rivanah thought it was odd
that he referred to her father by his surname. Generally all his colleagues addressed him by his first
name.
‘It’s been a while since I met your family,’ Mr Dutta added.
Been a while? When did he meet Mumma and me? Rivanah wondered. He must be confusing us
with someone else, she thought. Soon all of them settled on a spacious L-shaped couch. It was a posh
and neatly kept flat.
‘My wife and son will be here soon. They have gone to the AC market. As you already know,
Rishabh is here only for a week, and his mother prefers shopping with him.’
So his name is Rishabh—the man my parents want me to spend the rest of my life with. She
noticed a couple of family photos in frames on either side of the huge LED television. Mr Dutta’s son
looked much older than she was. If that is really his son in the photograph, she thought and casually
glanced at Mr Dutta. He was smiling at her.
‘How are you doing, Mini?’
Calling me by my nickname when we are meeting for the first time? This is a first, thought
Rivanah.
‘I’m good, uncle. How are you?’ Rivanah said, maintaining a warm smile.
‘I’m good too. How long will you be in Kolkata?’
‘A few more days.’
‘That’s nice.’
A servant came in with a tray carrying three glasses of water. The Bannerjees took a glass each and
sipped on the water idly, waiting for Mr Dutta’s wife and son to return. In the meantime, Mr Dutta
shot a volley of questions at Rivanah. It was evident from the nature of the questions that he wanted to
judge her as a person.
‘When do you go to office?’
‘What do you do on weekends?’
‘How many friends do you have?’
‘Do you have more male friends than females?’
Questions that were none of his business and yet she had to answer them because that was why she
had been brought there: to answer whatever the boy’s family asked. As time passed, Rivanah became
increasingly bored and, as a result, started yawning more and more, to a point when it became
embarrassing.
‘Do you want to sleep for a bit, Mini?’ Mr Dutta asked.
Rivanah glanced at her parents once and then at Mr Dutta.
‘No, uncle, it is just that I haven’t slept well for the last few days, with all the travelling.’
‘Totally understandable. Youngsters these days have a mad schedule indeed,’ Mr Dutta
sympathized.
‘Why don’t you take a short nap? You’ll look fresh by the time Mr Dutta’s family gets back,’ Mr
Bannerjee chipped in.
Look fresh in front of Mr Dutta’s son, that’s the whole point, Rivanah thought.
‘We will wake you up the moment Rishabh and his mother arrive.’
Rivanah gestured to her mother to come along for a second. ‘Bhola, show madam the bedroom,’ Mr
Dutta said aloud.
The servant immediately appeared from the kitchen and escorted both Rivanah and Mrs Bannerjee
to the master bedroom.
‘Isn’t it odd to sleep like this at someone else’s place?’ Rivanah said, keeping her voice in check.
‘And what was it that you were doing sitting there? Yawning away like anything.’ Her mother
sounded cross.
‘I’m sorry but I couldn’t help it. I’m feeling very sleepy.’
‘Then just sleep. I will wake you up when his son and wife come,’ she said and walked out of the
room. Rivanah sighed with yet another wide-mouthed yawn. She sat down on the bed. A moment later
she lay down closing her eyes, telling herself she will not sleep. But she dozed off as soon as her
head hit the pillow. When Rivanah woke up, she wondered why the interior of the room was so
familiar. And then it hit her—she was lying in her own bedroom.
 2

‘Mumma!’ Rivanah screamed as she sat upright with a jolt. Her mother came running, looking
worried.
‘What happened, Mini?’ she asked.
‘How did I come to my room? And did Mr Dutta’s son and wife ever come?’
‘What are you talking about, Mini?’ her mother asked, looking aghast. ‘You came back from your
friend’s place, had lunch and slept like a log.’
‘Like a log? How many hours has it been?’ Rivanah got off her bed and picked up her mobile phone
from her study table.
‘It is 9.30 p.m.!’ she said aloud.
‘I thought you were tired so I didn’t wake you up,’ her mother said and then, turning back, added,
‘Come along now. Dinner is almost ready.’
‘Mumma, tell me you are kidding.’ Rivanah stopped her mother.
‘Kidding about what, Mini?’
‘You, Baba and I had gone to Mr Dutta’s place for lunch today, right? I was feeling sleepy, so I
went to his bedroom to sleep. What happened after that?’
Her mother’s worried look was back.
‘What are you talking about, Mini? Are you all right?’ Rivanah looked hassled as she left her
mother in the room and rushed to her father downstairs. He was sitting at the dining table waiting for
dinner to be served. He was holding a copy of Tagore’s Gitanjali. He dog-eared the page he was
reading and looked up to see his daughter standing right in front of him.
‘Tell your mother I’m very hungry,’ he said.
‘Baba, didn’t we go to Mr Dutta’s house today for lunch?’
Mr Bannerjee looked at her for a moment. Then, removing his specs, he said, ‘We were supposed
to but he had some work, so we didn’t go. Why, what happened?’
Rivanah’s jaws dropped.
‘I don’t know what she is talking about,’ Mrs Bannerjee joined them.
‘What is she saying?’ Mr Bannerjee looked at his wife.
‘That we went to Mr Dutta’s place and she felt sleepy and . . .’
‘Did you have a nightmare, Mini?’ Mr Bannerjee asked Rivanah, cutting his wife short.
Rivanah, for a trice, seemed lost. Then she nodded. Was it all a dream? Her coming home, going
to Esplanade metro station with her mother and then being picked up by her father, going to Mr
Dutta’s house, him saying his wife and son are out. Rivanah immediately called Ishita.
 The number you have called is not reachable right now.
She checked her call log and found a call from her mother during the day.
‘See, you called me in the morning,’ she said, showing the phone to her mother.
‘Of course, I did. I called and asked you to come over because we had to go to Mr Dutta’s house.
But the meeting was cancelled by the time you came home. Then you slept until you woke up a few
minutes back,’ her mother said, with a surety even Rivanah couldn’t question.
A frustrated Rivanah sat with a thud in the chair right opposite her father.
‘You should eat properly,’ her mother said and moved towards the kitchen to serve them dinner.
Rivanah didn’t notice Mr and Mrs Bannerjee exchanging a furtive glance.
‘This is what is wrong with your generation,’ Mr Bannerjee started, ‘You think money is everything
and compromise on your health in the process. All this forgetfulness happens when you eat junk all
day. These American food joints are spoiling our kids and their future, I tell you.’
Rivanah pushed her chair back and got up to leave.
‘Mini?’ Mr Bannerjee sounded worried.
Rivanah went straight to her room and opened her wardrobe to look for the salwar suit she had
worn to Mr Dutta’s place. She remembered it distinctly. It couldn’t possibly be a dream, she thought,
furiously ruffling through her wardrobe but she didn’t find what she was looking for. Disappointed,
she turned around to see her mother standing by the door.
‘Can you tell me what’s wrong with you?’ Mrs Bannerjee asked.
‘Mumma, where’s that salwar suit that we bought the last time I was here?’
‘Which one?’
‘The peacock-green one with the red border.’ Rivanah could have easily referred to it as the one
she wore to Mr Dutta’s place but she didn’t.
‘Oh that! It’s in my wardrobe.’
Rivanah glared at her mother. ‘What is my dress doing in your wardrobe, Mumma?’
‘I had given it to be washed and kept it all ironed after you left. Forgot to put it back.’
Rivanah wasn’t convinced.
‘Show me,’ Rivanah said and walked out of her room. Her mother followed.
Her mother opened the wardrobe in the master bedroom and there in one of the shelves lay her
neatly ironed dress. ‘Now do you believe me?’ Mrs Bannerjee said, sounding hurt. Rivanah nodded
and after thinking for a moment muttered under her breath, ‘I’m sorry, Mumma. Let’s have dinner.
Baba is waiting.’ Maybe I am turning paranoid, Rivanah thought.
All through dinner, her parents kept talking but Rivanah wasn’t listening. She tried Ishita’s number
a couple of times but each time the automated voice told her the phone was not reachable. After
dinner Rivanah checked her phone again. There were two missed calls from Danny and one message
from Ekansh. Rivanah read the message first.
Hi, what’s up?
The time of the message was 4.46 p.m. She checked the time of Danny’s calls: 3.30 p.m. and 7.58
p.m. Rivanah immediately called Danny. He picked up on the fourth ring.
‘Hey baby, where are you?’
 ‘Hi! I’m sorry, Danny. I just dozed off in the afternoon.’ Rivanah decided against recounting to him
the confusing events of the day.
‘You didn’t send me your convocation pictures. How was the event?’
Images of her, along with Ishita, following her colleague Argho to her deceased college-mate
Hiya’s house flashed before her eyes.
‘Hello?’ Danny was waiting for her response.
‘Oh, sorry. The event was great. I have few pictures on Ishita’s phone. I shall ask her to share them
with me. I will WhatsApp you.’
‘Ishita?’ Danny sounded clueless.
‘The girl because of whom we met,’ Rivanah said and remembered how Ishita had told her about
this hot guy who had swept her off her feet at first sight. How they had had a bet to woo this guy. And
that hot guy was now her boyfriend. Certain memories take your soul out for a sunbath. Her meeting
Danny for the first time wrapped in only a towel was one such memory.
‘Oh! Now I remember. Your old roomie?’
‘Right. She is working here in Kolkata now.’
‘That’s good. And when are you coming back? I miss you.’
A smile featured on Rivanah’s face. Nothing can beat the feeling of being desired by someone. ‘I
miss you too. Just a couple of days more and I’ll be there.’
‘Now that will give me a good night’s sleep.’ He kissed her over the phone. She kissed him back.
After the Nitya incident, when Rivanah had wrongly doubted his loyalty, Danny had suddenly become
this close-to-perfect boyfriend. Which girl would not desire someone who is hot, caring and gives
ample space to you to the extent that even if he had an inkling that you were in touch with your ex, he
still doesn’t ask you awkward questions. But the other important question was: was she a close-to-
perfect girlfriend to him? Rivanah was yet to confess to Danny about what had happened in the flat
between Ekansh and her—that they had made love as if nothing had ever gone wrong between them.
And it was scary because this feeling was like a seed which could proliferate into a gigantic tree with
innumerable forbidden branches sprouting fresh leaves of illicit desires.
‘Hello? You there?’
‘Yes, yes. I’m here.’ Rivanah came out of her momentary trance.
‘I said I love you.’
‘I love you too, Danny,’ she said and cut the line. She sat on her bed lost in thoughts when her
phone buzzed with a WhatsApp message.
How are you? No response?
It was Ekansh again. He was online. So was she now. Rivanah replied.
I’m good. How are you? And Tista?
She sent it and fixed her eyes below Ekansh’s name on WhatsApp where it was written: online.
Then it changed to typing . . . and then online again. A response came:
Can we please meet?
Sure. Tomorrow around noon?
Now?
 Now? It’s past 10! Mumma and Baba won’t allow it.
Like old times?
He shouldn’t have used those words: old times. Not now, not ever. She knew what he meant though.
It wasn’t the first time Ekansh wanted to meet her at a time when moving out of her house was next to
impossible. Back when they were in college and in a relationship, she would sneak out of the house
after her parents had slept. Rivanah typed out a four-letter word and pressed Send. Her message read:
Okay.
 3

Rivanah waited until her parents were done watching their favourite Bengali soap and retired to
bed. When her mother came to leave a bottle of water in the room, Rivanah feigned drowsiness and
wished her goodnight. Once her mother left, switching the lights off, Rivanah waited for some more
time before sneaking out. This was such a familiar routine. The fact that she was still good at it told
her how invested she had been in what Ekansh and she had called a ‘relationship’. And love. Does
love end when a relationship ends? Or does a relationship end because love has ended? And what
were Ekansh and Rivanah into now? She didn’t dare name it. But was this too because of what they
had been earlier? Isn’t the aftermath of love also . . . love?
Her mind still full of such thoughts, Rivanah took the keys out from under the old shoe rack beside
the terrace door, unlocked the door and closed it gently behind her. Theirs was a two-storeyed house,
so the terrace wasn’t at a huge height. All she had to do was jump from the cemented parapet; Ekansh
would catch her. She felt an awkwardness clinch her muscles. It is one thing to write ‘like old times’
in a message but it wasn’t old times. They weren’t a couple any more.
‘Jump,’ Ekansh said softly. Rivanah nodded and jumped as he caught her in his arms. He held her
the way he used to and yet it felt different. She quickly severed herself from any kind of bodily touch
from him. They quietly walked to Master da’s tea stall where boys from the locality were playing
carom while gossiping and drinking lemon tea. As they neared the stall, Rivanah stopped. What if the
boys told on her? She would become the talk of the town by the next morning. How had she dared to
do such things before? And why was she fighting it now? Was it because she really felt Ekansh and
she shouldn’t be seen together or because she didn’t want those ‘old times’ to replay?
‘Let’s not go there,’ she said. Ekansh gave her a look of understanding and took a lane leading to a
small park. She followed. Sitting on a lonely bench in the park, the distance between them was
palpable. Rivanah could almost see their past selves on a bench on the other part of the park. But
unlike their present, their past selves’ hands were clasped together.
‘Why are we here, Ekansh?’ Rivanah asked abruptly.
‘Tista’s surgery is tomorrow.’ There was a forlorn look on Ekansh’s face. As if he already knew
what was going to happen inside the operation theatre the next day.
‘But you told me earlier there’s a 30 per cent chance of survival. I’m sure she will make it,’ she
said.
‘What if Tista dies, Rivanah? Will you marry me?’ Ekansh blurted. Rivanah couldn’t help but give
him a shocked look.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean it the way it sounds.’
 ‘Then what did you mean, Ekansh?’
‘I haven’t slept since we both came back to Kolkata.’
Rivanah could tell he was telling the truth by the look in his eyes—tired, withdrawn and somewhat
lifeless. She had noticed it when she met him that night in her flat in Mumbai but she didn’t say
anything lest he interpreted as concern. Though Rivanah had deliberately chosen to meet Ekansh at
this hour, she didn’t want him to read too much into it.
‘All I keep thinking about is what will happen if Tista doesn’t survive the surgery,’ Ekansh said.
‘Have you been really thinking that, Ekansh?’
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
‘What do you mean no?’
‘You have been thinking of what will happen to you if Tista doesn’t survive the surgery. And hence
your question to me. You are simply being selfish.’
Ekansh sat back on the bench and looked at the night sky.
‘This was always my problem, wasn’t it? I was always selfish in love. When I was in love with
you, and now when I’m in love with Tista.’
In the silence, Rivanah could hear a frog croaking somewhere close by, and at a distance she could
again see their old selves laughing, her head on his shoulder. He used to love it when her hair fell on
his face. Then Rivanah saw their old selves turn quiet suddenly. She remembered that, back then,
every time they became quiet, they would end up speaking at the same time. ‘Ekansh.’ This time, it
was only she who spoke. He didn’t look at her.
‘Tista will be all right. And then we will stop meeting like this,’ she said.
Ekansh turned his head towards her quizzically.
‘What?’ she shrugged.
‘Can’t we . . . ?’
‘No, we can’t be friends any more,’ Rivanah responded to his incomplete question.
‘Tell me honestly, Rivanah—don’t you want to be my friend?’ By now Ekansh had turned around
and was facing her.
She took her time to answer. ‘No, I don’t.’
‘Then what are you doing here?’ He didn’t know why he held her hand while saying it. She didn’t
know why she didn’t push it away. She slowly looked down and then drew her hand out of his grasp.
‘I’m guilty of the same thing I’m accusing you of. I too am selfish,’ she said, choking up.
‘Aren’t we all, in one way or the other?’
Maybe he is right, Rivanah wondered, but kept mum. She stood up and asked, ‘What time is the
surgery tomorrow?’
‘They will take her in the OT around ten in the morning.’
‘I’ll try to see her before that,’ Rivanah said, and walked away. She saw Ekansh’s shadow stand up
and follow her but she didn’t turn back. While moving out of the park she noticed the old Rivanah and
Ekansh breaking from a tight embrace and kissing passionately. She could feel a lump in her throat.
 Ekansh helped Rivanah climb on to the cemented parapet and then left. Rivanah locked the terrace
door, kept the keys under the shoe rack and went downstairs to her room. She opened the door
noiselessly. Once inside her bedroom, she let out a long sigh. Ekansh’s query echoed in her mind:
What if Tista doesn’t survive the surgery tomorrow? Her relationship with Danny won’t be accepted
by her parents anyway. Rivanah shook her head vigorously. What the hell am I thinking? She was
about to lie down on her bed when the lights in her room came on. Before she could speak, she heard
a man say, ‘Where were you, Mini?’
Rivanah looked up and got the shock of her life.
 4

‘You scared me!’ Rivanah exclaimed. For a moment, she had thought it was the stranger in her
room. Her heart was still racing with fear. Her parents were standing by her wardrobe staring at her.
‘Where did you go, Mini?’ Mr Bannerjee repeated.
‘I went outside.’
‘How did you go? We checked the main door. It was locked from the inside.’ Mrs Bannerjee
sounded exasperated.
‘Oh, Mumma, I meant I was in the terrace. Why would I go outside at this hour?’
‘I checked the terrace,’ Mr Bannerjee said. ‘You were not there.’
‘Of course I was there. Did you check the portion behind the water tank?’ Rivanah was trying her
best to sound confident. Mr and Mrs Bannerjee exchanged a thoughtful glance. ‘The network wasn’t
holding up here, so I went there to talk to Ishita,’ Rivanah lied. ‘But why are you two so worked up
about it?’
Mrs Bannerjee came to Rivanah, caressed her head and said, ‘Nothing. We just panicked not seeing
you in your room. That’s all. Now sleep, Mini. You anyway keep working all the time in Mumbai.’
Rivanah, to make things look normal, kissed her mother and climbed back into bed.
‘Goodnight, Baba. Goodnight, Mumma.’
‘Goodnight.’ Her father left the room. Her mother pulled a thin blanket over her, and, switching off
the lights, followed her husband out. Rivanah finally relaxed. She had forgotten her phone in the room
itself. When she checked it, she found there was only one new message. It was from Ekansh.
Thank you for being there.
The message had come a few minutes after she had come back into her house. Had she met him for
his sake? Or was it because her own damaged self was seeking a repair through proximity to Ekansh?
Would Ekansh really want to get back with her if Tista didn’t survive the surgery? She immediately
hated herself for having such a filthy thought. And then a filthier question occurred in her mind: Whom
would she ultimately choose if given the option—Ekansh or Danny? On an impulse, Rivanah typed a
response to Ekansh:
See you at the hospital tomorrow.
To Danny, she messaged: I love you. Goodnight.
After sending both messages, she switched off her phone to avoid any further communication with
the world and shut her eyes tight. She dozed off after murmuring a short prayer for Tista’s well-being.
Next morning, Rivanah reached the hospital around ten. Tista’s entire family was there. So was
Ekansh. He came towards Rivanah the moment he saw her.
 ‘What happened?’ she said, seeing everyone crowding outside the room.
‘The nurse is dressing her up for the OT,’ Ekansh said.
‘Dressing?’
‘They need to wear a different uniform for the OT.’
‘Oh, okay,’ Rivanah said, and went ahead to greet Tista’s parents and a few relatives who had seen
her the other time she had come to the hospital.
‘Any idea how long the surgery will take?’ she asked Ekansh.
‘Two hours minimum—if there are no complications,’ he said and brushed his hand against her.
Was it an accident? Rivanah didn’t know. She felt as if Ekansh wanted her to hold him. They
exchanged a furtive glance and her presumptions were confirmed. Rivanah intentionally stood slightly
away from him. The fact that he too took couple of steps back told her his guard was up as well.
Rivanah saw two people walking towards them. They were Ekansh’s parents and she knew them
well. Especially his father who used to joke that Rivanah spared them the pain of finding a daughter-
in-law for their good-for-nothing son. Rivanah touched their feet. They blessed her like old times, but
it was very awkward. Before his parents could speak, Ekansh came forward and told them that Tista
was Rivanah’s friend as well. They gave them an unsure smile and went ahead to greet Tista’s
parents. Rivanah was itching to ask Ekansh what reason he had given his parents for their break-up.
Had he told them the truth? Or had he fabricated a web of lies to keep his image intact?
A nurse emerged from Tista’s room and asked, ‘Who is Rivanah here?’
Everyone turned to look at Rivanah as if a judge had pronounced an unexpected death sentence.
‘Tista wants to have a word with you before the operation,’ the nurse said. Rivanah glanced at
Ekansh who gestured her to go ahead. As she took a couple of steps towards the room, the nurse
spoke up, ‘Make it short. I have to take her into the OT in a minute.’ The nurse waited outside while
Rivanah, all eyes still on her, went inside Tista’s room.
Once inside, Rivanah shut the door behind her. She saw Tista lying on the bed in a green hospital
dress. The way she looked at Rivanah scared her. She looked like a doppelganger of the Tista she had
met for the first time in her Mumbai flat.
‘Hi, Tista,’ Rivanah said with a forced smile and went to stand by the bed.
The response came after few seconds. ‘Hi, Rivanah di.’
‘All will be good. Don’t worry.’
‘Rivanah di, do you still love Ekansh?’
There was a momentary shock in Rivanah’s eyes but she couldn’t tell if she hid it well.
‘Who told you . . . ?’ Rivanah immediately realized her response shouldn’t have started with those
words.
‘For how long?’ Tista asked, looking blankly at Rivanah.
‘We were together for four or five years before we broke up.’
‘Did you guys break up because of me?’
‘No! No, Tista. You came into the picture much later.’
For a few seconds, neither spoke, neither moved. Then Rivanah noticed a teardrop roll down
Tista’s cheek.
 ‘When Ekansh came to our flat for the first time, did you guys . . . ?’ Tista’s voice trailed off. And
the trailing voice brought back the memory of the evening Rivanah had locked deep in her conscious,
labelling it as ‘so what?’ But now with Tista inquiring about it the label had changed into ‘why’. Did
Tista know what happened between her and Ekansh that evening? How could she unless Ekansh had
told her about it? Or the . . . ?
‘I will have to take her to the OT now,’ the nurse interrupted. She was followed by two ward boys
who entered the room with a stretcher. They picked Tista up and lay her on the stretcher. All the
while, Tista’s eyes were fixed on Rivanah. Even though Rivanah was seeking an accusation in Tista’s
eyes, she couldn’t find any. And it made the guilt inside her churn her guts. She felt like throwing up.
As Tista was taken away, Rivanah too rushed out. She didn’t stop for Ekansh. While he was busy
with Tista, Rivanah took the elevator and went downstairs. She sat down on one of the seats in the
waiting area and immediately broke down. A few people sitting beside her gave sympathetic glances,
assuming some acquaintance of hers must be in a serious condition—not knowing it was her
conscience on the ventilator.
Earlier she had to deal only with the fact that she couldn’t tell Danny what had happened between
Ekansh and her that evening, but now her guilt discovered a stepsister named shame. Rivanah buried
her face in her lap as she sobbed and shuddered. Someone in the seat behind her was staring at her. If
Rivanah had turned around and looked, the person would have caught her attention. But she didn’t
even lift her head. A few seconds later the person stood up and left. Rivanah was still sobbing when
she heard someone say:
‘The heart leads but the mind misleads, Mini.’
Rivanah’s sobs paused instantly. In a flash, she turned around only to see a small recorder on the
seat right behind her. She rubbed her eyes and stood up. She went to the row of seats behind her and
picked up the recorder. She fast-forwarded it, rewound it but all there was in the recorder was a
single sentence in a male voice.
The heart leads but the mind misleads, Mini.
She kept the recorder in her bag, knowing only too well who must have placed it on the seat. She
was sure her chance to catch the person was long gone. Her phone flashed ‘Ekansh calling’ but she
didn’t answer the call. Feeling slightly dizzy, she went out, wary of the people around her, and took a
cab home. She slept till evening. Once her parents left for a function, she went to take a shower.
Sitting naked on the bathroom floor under the shower, she only had one thing on her lips—a prayer for
Tista. Ekansh had called her again, but she didn’t dare pick up the phone. The surgery must have
ended but she didn’t have the courage to find out how it went. If Tista had died, Rivanah would die of
guilt. If Tista lived, she would perish in shame. She was about to burst into tears again when her eyes
snapped open. The water from her shower was still cascading down her body. But Rivanah could
smell something. She stood up in a flash and turned off the shower. Something is surely burning, she
thought, quickly wrapping herself in the towel. She unlocked the bathroom door and was about to step
out into her room when the sight in front of her shocked her. There was a bonfire in the middle of her
room, with flames licking the ceiling. She could feel the heat and knew the fire would soon engulf her
as well, and yet she couldn’t move. Fear had clouded her instinct for survival.
 The stranger is here to kill me. I’ll die in no time. Just like Hiya Chowdhury, she thought. As the
fire in the room grew, Rivanah’s eyes fell on one of the many windows in her room. It had a word
written on it in red:
Your
She looked at the next window.
End
Then the next one:
Is
The fourth window:
Coming
And then the last:
Soon.
Rivanah collapsed on the floor.
 5

Mr and Mrs Bannerjee had rushed home after a panic call from their neighbour. By the time they
reached, there was already a small crowd gathered around the front door, along with a stationary fire
engine with its siren on. The firemen informed Mr Bannerjee that everything was under control; they
had arrived before the fire could do some real damage. When Mr and Mrs Bannerjee went inside,
they found their daughter huddled up in a corner of her room.
‘Someone was here, Mumma,’ Rivanah said, bursting into tears.
While Mrs Bannerjee hugged and tried to console her, Mr Bannerjee called up the police who
arrived within half an hour. By then Rivanah had come out of shock and was able to speak clearly.
‘Do you have any idea how the fire started?’ Police Inspector Rajat Das asked Rivanah. He was
the younger brother of one of Mr Bannerjee’s colleagues.
‘I don’t know. I was in the bathroom. I smelt something and came out to see my room engulfed in
fire,’ she recounted, with fear still lurking in her heart.
‘Do you have enemies? Or did you fight with someone recently? Anything untoward?’ Inspector
Rajat urged on.
Rivanah was lost in thoughts.
‘I’m asking because we have found some words on the window panes.’
‘What words?’ Mr Bannerjee was confused.
‘It said: Your end is coming soon.’
Mr and Mrs Bannerjee exchanged a worried glance.
‘Mini,’ Mr Bannerjee said, ‘are you hiding anything from us?’
Rivanah couldn’t tell them about the Stranger. Who knew what he would do if she involved the
police this time. Forget the Stranger, she had a few skeletons of her own to hide from her parents. She
looked at her father and shook her head.
‘Hmm.’ Rajat stood from the chair.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said, facing Mrs Bannerjee, ‘We shall be quick with the investigation. I’ll let you
know if something comes up.’ He turned to Mr Bannerjee and said, ‘Do accompany us to lodge an
FIR.’
‘Certainly.’ Mr Bannerjee followed Rajat to the door.
Rivanah was wondering whether she should tell the police about Argho. It was evident what his or
the Stranger’s intention was: to kill her. What if she didn’t live long enough to tell them the name?
As Inspector Rajat took his leave, Rivanah blurted out, ‘Argho has been following me.’
‘Argho? Who is he?’ Rajat came up to her once again. Her parents were behind him.
 ‘He works with me in Mumbai.’
‘You never told us about this guy Argho before!’ Mr Bannerjee said.
‘And why has he been following you?’ Mrs Bannerjee was quick to ask.
‘I don’t know,’ Rivanah said, feeling her mind go blank.
‘There has to be some reason for taking his name?’ Rajat asked.
Rivanah was in two minds. If she told the police that she thought Argho was the Stranger, then she
would have to tell them the entire story. What if the Stranger killed her if she confessed? Rivanah
swallowed a lump and said, ‘I’m not sure. I saw him glancing at me in the office.’
‘Just glancing at you? Hmm. Anyway, do you know where he lives in Mumbai?’ Rajat asked.
Rivanah nodded.
‘What’s his full name?’
‘Argho Chowdhury.’
‘Did he follow you here to Kolkata?’
‘Yes.’
‘How are you sure?’
‘He was there in the recently held convocation in my college a few days back.’
‘Did he study with you in college?’
‘No.’
‘Then what was he doing in the convocation?’
Rivanah took her time before saying, ‘I don’t know.’
‘Hmm. Any idea where he lives in Kolkata?’
Rivanah shot him an incredulous look and shook her head. For a second, she thought of giving the
inspector the phone numbers of the Stranger she had stored, but knew it would be useless since he
never used them under his name.
‘Hmm, you said he works with you. So it won’t be difficult to hunt him down and check if your
suspicion is right.’
Inspector Rajat finally took his leave followed by Mr Bannerjee. Her mother stayed back with her.
‘I don’t know what we have done to anyone to deserve all this.’
‘I’m not hurt, Mumma,’ she said trying to emotionally shelter her mother. I’m not hurt yet, she said
to herself.
‘Can I please have some water? I’m very thirsty.’
‘Yes. You should have some salt water, actually. You are perspiring a lot,’ Mrs Bannerjee said and
sauntered away. Mr Bannerjee came back and said, ‘You should have told us about Argho before.’
‘Baba, even I didn’t know it would come to this. In fact, I don’t have solid reason to suspect him.
It’s just that when the inspector asked if I have anyone in my mind, only his face came to me.’
‘But why would he do such a fatal thing? Does he have a grudge against you?’
‘I don’t know, Baba. I’m sure if the police nab him he will confess whatever it is. If he is the guilty
one, that is.’
‘Did he do anything during or after the convocation?’
‘Nothing.’
 ‘Hmm.’ Mr Bannerjee went away.
Rivanah picked up her phone and went to her Contacts. She had to talk to someone. She scrolled
down till she stopped at a name: Danny. And right below it was Ekansh. Calling Danny would have
been the right thing to do. But right things always had consequences. What if Danny sensed her
unsettled tone and asked questions? Telling him one thing would invariably lead to telling him a lot of
things, which she knew would complicate their relationship. Ekansh too could ask questions but with
him she now had the luxury to dodge them. Rivanah tapped on Ekansh’s name. She anyway had to
inquire about Tista’s surgery. She had already ignored it for too long. The phone was answered on the
second ring but Ekansh didn’t speak.
‘Ekansh, you there?’
‘Hmm.’ He sounded grim.
‘What happened? How was the surgery?’ Rivanah said, feeling a tinge of guilt that she couldn’t be
there with him when the surgery happened.
‘Tista hasn’t gained consciousness as yet. She is under observation for twenty-four hours. I . . .’
Rivanah could sense he was crying.
‘Where are you right now?’
‘Home,’ he said in a choked voice.
She knew he needed her. Did Tista tell him that she knows? The emotional desperation to be there
for Ekansh made her uncomfortable. But a truth from within struck the bell of her conscience—Ekansh
was more a part of her now, when they were separated, than when they were together. Whether she
accepted this truth or not was a different story.
‘Ekansh, I’m coming to your place,’ she said in one breath and cut the line.
Though she tried to coax her father, he wouldn’t let her leave the house on her own—not after what
had happened. Rivanah had to lie that an urgent office work had come up, else she wouldn’t have
insisted. They reluctantly agreed. Mr Bannerjee dropped her at Ekansh’s place. She didn’t tell him it
was his place to avoid unnecessary questions. Her father offered to wait outside but she promised to
call him once she was done. After Mr Bannerjee drove away, she walked for half a kilometre and
reached Ekansh’s actual house. The lights were off. She pushed the gate open and noticed a faded
board on it: Beware of dog. Ekansh used to have a bulldog named Engineer. It was a joke between
Ekansh and her that engineers studied to become MNC dogs. Every time she entered through the gate,
Engineer would come and wag his tail until she put him on her lap and let him lick her face. The dog
had died the year they graduated but the board had remained intact. Ekansh probably never got a pet
after that. She rang the doorbell, and Ekansh’s mother answered the door. If she was surprised to see
Rivanah, she didn’t show it.
‘Hello, aunty,’ Rivanah blurted awkwardly.
‘How are you, Rivanah?’ Ekansh’s mother usually called her Mini. The way we address people
tells us so much about our relationship with them, she thought.
‘I’m okay, aunty. Is Ekansh—?’
‘He is in his room,’ his mother answered before she could finish.
 Rivanah walked in as she closed the door behind her. Sensing she wasn’t very inclined to talk,
Rivanah took the stairs to Ekansh’s room. As she stood outside the door, she took a deep breath to
negate the flashes from the past which were becoming clearer and clearer every second. This was the
room in which they had secretly kissed so many times.
Rivanah knocked on the door.
‘Mom, I told you to leave me alone.’ Ekansh’s pitch had an irksome tinge to it.
‘It’s me, Ekansh.’
Ekansh let her in and shut the door. Before she could say anything, he hugged her tightly, almost
crushing her ribs. The way his hands gripped her back always aroused her before—and it was no
different now.
‘Ekansh . . .’ she murmured. He half broke the hug and then tore away from her, probably sensing
she was uncomfortable.
‘Any news of Tista?’ Rivanah asked quickly, not wanting to give time for memories to return. After
all, Tista was the reason they were together in his room. Whatever they had between them was not
supposed to be set on fire again. Deep relationships probably never die, she thought, and always
have the potential to be rekindled.
‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Tell me she will be all right.’
Rivanah had never seen Ekansh behave like a kid. It just told her how much he loved Tista. During
their relationship, she had never believed Ekansh could love anyone more than he loved her. But now,
getting a glimpse of his love for Tista, she had mixed feelings. She wasn’t sad about it. But she wasn’t
happy either.
‘She will be all right.’ Rivanah understood that Tista hadn’t told Ekansh anything yet, or else that
would have surely been his first question to her.
A few silent moments and a stare later, Ekansh added, ‘Thanks for coming here. I needed you.’
Words like these from your ex can steal your peace, especially when the real you knows you aren’t
over him completely.
‘I’m going to Mumbai the day after.’
Ekansh sat down beside the window without a word. He was staring at the floor. Rivanah could
tell he was thinking hard.
‘I know it is still early, but do you have any idea when Tista will be discharged?’
‘Rivanah . . .’ Ekansh raised his head and looked straight at her. It wasn’t a normal look. It looked
like something of uber importance had dawned on him and she was interrupting that realization. She
had a hunch that whatever he was about to say could alter a lot of choices in her life. It made her heart
beat faster.
‘Just say it . . .’ Rivanah said.
Ekansh shook his head and said, ‘Nothing.’
There was most definitely something but why won’t he say it? Rivanah wondered.
‘You can be honest with me, Ekansh,’ she said, feeling her throat go dry as she spoke.
‘That’s the problem. If we are always absolutely honest, we won’t be able to live in peace.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Rivanah frowned slightly.
 ‘It’s because peace is an illusion created by either ignorance or acceptance.’
What are you trying to ignore, Ekansh? Or accept, for that matter? She desperately wanted to
ask him but didn’t, since she understood his point. She was oscillating between honesty and peace
herself as far as her confession to Danny was concerned. Thinking about Danny, she wondered if she
should tell Ekansh about her conversation with Tista. One look at Ekansh, however, and she knew he
wouldn’t be able to handle it.
‘I’m not sure when I’ll be in Mumbai,’ he said.
‘I get it. Let me know when you visit Tista next. I need to see her once.’ And apologize to her with
all my heart, she said to herself, knowing full well a verbal apology would not be good enough to
cleanse the dirt of guilt within her.
Rivanah’s father came to pick her up from exactly where he had dropped her. Later in the night,
when Rivanah joined her parents at the dining table, Mr Bannerjee gave her a bunch of papers.
‘What’s this, Baba?’
‘One of Rajat’s constables was here when you were out. It has the names of the passengers who
travelled to Mumbai from Kolkata yesterday. The name you’d mentioned . . .’
‘Argho Chowdhury,’ Rivanah chipped in.
‘Right. Argho’s name is on the list, and the police have confirmed from the CCTV footage that he
did go through the security check at the airport yesterday.’
He couldn’t have set fire inside my bedroom, she thought.
‘If he has flown back to Mumbai, then what am I to check in these papers?’
‘These papers have the names of passengers who flew from Kolkata to Mumbai after the incident.
The police want to know if you recognize any name.’
Rivanah kept flipping through the pages, going through each name with utmost focus. She paused on
one name: Prateek Basotia.
 6

Rivanah gave the papers back to her father saying, ‘I don’t know anyone from the list.’ She had to
first check if Prateek, her school senior and ex-colleague, was indeed the Stranger or not. But if he
was, why would he call her to his place like he had done months back and then humiliate himself by
recording his own self in a compromising manner only to help her out?
‘What happened, Mini?’ Mr Bannerjee asked.
‘Nothing. I think I’ll retire now. Goodnight, Baba, goodnight, Mumma,’ said Rivanah, pushing her
chair back. She got up and walked straight to her room.
Once inside, she opened Facebook and unblocked Prateek from her blocked list. She immediately
went to his profile. His cover photo was of a woman’s mehendi-adorned hands with a wrist full of
red bangles. Her hand was holding a man’s hand. The profile picture was of Prateek with a girl. A
look at his About Me section confirmed her guess. His relationship status was ‘Married to: Rati
Agarwal Basotia’. Rivanah clicked on the hyperlink and Prateek’s wife’s profile opened. She
appeared to be a typical Marwari girl with a domestic vibe. A casual glance at her timeline told
Rivanah that she had checked-in at the Yellow Chilli restaurant in Bangur Avenue with Prateek
Basotia at . . . Rivanah saw the time. It was about the same time the attack had taken place. Had
Prateek paid someone to do it? He had all the reasons to be upset with her. Rivanah scrolled down
Prateek’s timeline. He had got married three months back. On a hunch she ran to her parents’ room.
‘Baba?’ Rivanah said. The lights in the room were off. Both her parents woke up, startled.
‘What happened, Mini?’
‘Relax. I just wanted to check the passengers list once again,’ she said, switching the lights on.
‘It is right below that book,’ Mr Bannerjee said pointing towards a table. Rivanah picked it up.
‘Keep it with you tonight,’ Mr Bannerjee said sleepily. Rivanah nodded and took the papers with
her. She switched the lights off before leaving the room.
Back in her room, Rivanah opened the page which had Prateek’s name on it. And right below was:
Rati Agarwal Basotia. The two had clearly travelled together from Kolkata to Mumbai. Why would a
guy who got married few months back take such a big risk of attacking a girl because of a grudge?
What will he get out of it? It wasn’t Argho if the police were to be believed, and now it was almost
clear that Prateek’s name was a coincidence. Then it could only mean the Stranger was still at large . .
. unless . . . there were not one but several people involved. The thought itself made her heart skip a
beat. What if there were not one but multiple Strangers? As Rivanah lay in bed, she kept wondering if
she was missing out on any detail from the first day she had landed in Mumbai. An hour later, she fell
asleep with a myriad of directionless thoughts.
 Rivanah woke up late the next morning. She saw a few missed calls from both Ekansh and Danny.
She called Danny while brushing her teeth and rushed through breakfast, still on the call, mostly
listening to the latest news from his shoot. By the time she reached the hospital, it was around 10.30
a.m. The scene didn’t look good. Tista’s parents—especially her mother—were hysterical. Other
relatives were trying to calm her down but in vain. She took a couple of steps towards them but
nobody noticed her. She could see Ekansh’s parents standing with Tista’s relatives. With her heart
beating harder, she went to the nurse who was writing something on a paper.
‘What happened, sister?’
‘The patient collapsed.’
‘Collapsed?’ Rivanah’s throat had gone dry by then.
‘Tista died early morning.’
Rivanah thought her heart had stopped for a moment. Tista can’t die. Tista shouldn’t die. Tista
hasn’t died. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. The nurse made a soft announcement that the body
would be in the room for another half hour maximum.
Rivanah slowly turned towards the cabin door. It was a couple of metres away from her but she
had to summon all her energy to be able to come up to it.
Standing by the door, she could see Ekansh sobbing beside Tista’s bed. No medical equipment was
attached to her body any more. Her eyes were shut. Rivanah wouldn’t have guessed if she didn’t
already know. She still hoped Tista would miraculously open her eyes—and she would get a chance
to apologize to her. At that instant, Rivanah knew nothing would give her more joy than seeing Tista
and Ekansh together and happy. Tista’s calm visage told her coming back to life was still possible
while Ekansh’s ashen face confirmed the improbability of it. Ekansh lifted his head when she entered
the room. She had once believed Ekansh loved her truly and had changed her perception of him over
the years, believing he could not be loyal to anyone. But he had surprised her with his behaviour
towards Tista. A person can be good as well as bad, black and also white. Our experience of the
person is only a way to perceive him or her. And perceptions come with inherent limitations, Rivanah
now knew.
She placed a hand on Tista’s forehead, caressing it. Ekansh grasped Rivanah’s other hand. He
tightened his grip; it hurt but she didn’t move. Ekansh looked up at her and said, ‘She knew.’
Those weren’t just words but a pyre on which Ekansh’s life would station itself. The fire of guilt
shall slowly lick his conscience all his life like it would lick hers. Till those words were spoken by
him they had shared a past, but from now on, Ekansh and Rivanah would share the same fire of guilt
in them. She wanted to talk to him but stopped herself when Ekansh’s mother stepped into the room.
Rivanah quickly managed to free her hand from his grasp. Ekansh’s mother asked him to come out
with her; he followed her out. Rivanah too left Tista’s room but didn’t see Ekansh or his parents.
Back from the hospital, Rivanah was too dazed to think clearly. She picked up her phone several
times to call Ekansh but didn’t know what they would talk about. At night, he messaged her saying he
wanted to meet. Rivanah had just finished packing for her flight the next morning. She agreed and
asked him to pick her up from her place. She convinced her parents that she was going to her friend’s
place like the other day for some office work and the friend would pick her up and drop her back as
well.
‘What is your friend’s name and phone number?’
Rivanah gave them Ekansh’s number but told them the name was Pooja, someone they knew.
Ekansh picked her up and they drove to the Kankurgachi footbridge. Neither uttered a word during
the ride. Danny had called but Rivanah told him she was out with family and would call him back the
moment she reached home. The two climbed the bridge and sat on the steps. The footbridge was a
lonely place during the day. Even more so at night.
‘Why did you tell her?’ Ekansh asked.
‘What?’ Rivanah wasn’t expecting this question.
‘Why did you tell Tista what happened between us that evening?’ Ekansh asked sternly.
I didn’t, Rivanah thought. Someone else did. But I can’t tell you who that someone is.
‘Was this your revenge?’
‘Revenge?’
‘Because I ditched you.’
‘You really think I’m capable of doing something so cheap, Ekansh? Like, really?’
‘I don’t know. How else did she come to know?’
‘If you don’t know, how would I know?’ Rivanah raised her pitch a bit. It was frustration shielded
as anger—frustration of not being able to tell Ekansh about the Stranger. She stood up, paced the
bridge, came back calm and said, ‘Maybe she just understood it. A girl’s sense is very strong in these
matters.’
‘She understood it the day she died? You think I’m going to believe that?’
‘What are you trying to say, Ekansh? Please be clear.’
‘I said what I wanted to say. I know what I did to you wasn’t good, but by telling Tista what
happened between us that evening, you have scarred me for life.’
‘I haven’t scarred you for life, your own karma has.’
‘What bullshit!’ Ekansh stood up to face Rivanah.
‘Bullshit? If I had told her about this, why would I not confess to you? I was always there
whenever you needed me. Back then, when we were in a relationship, and now, when we aren’t. But
at both times you have shocked me with your behaviour.’ The irritation was evident in her face. They
could have done this over phone too if all Ekansh had in mind was blaming her unnecessarily.
‘I know you were and are there for me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to believe you on this.
There is no way a third person could have known what happened between us that evening in the flat. I
know I didn’t tell Tista anything. That leaves only one person who could have.’
Rivanah shot an angry glance at him.
‘Do me a favour now. Please don’t get in touch again,’ Rivanah said and started stepping down the
bridge’s staircase. Ekansh caught up with her calling her name, ‘Rivanah . . . listen, Rivanah.’
‘There is nothing to listen. Be it love or friendship, if you can’t trust the other person, there is no
reason why you should be together,’ she said.
 ‘All right. Go. If you think that by putting the blame on a girl’s sixth sense you would be able to
absolve yourself, then you are mistaken. Just imagine me telling your boyfriend about what happened
between us. Only then you will understand my pain.’
With that Ekansh had blown the lid off Rivanah’s anger.
‘It’s a free world, Ekansh Tripathi,’ she said, turning back. ‘Do as you please.’ She finally climbed
down the footbridge stairs.
‘Thank you for the suggestion,’ Ekansh shouted behind her.
Rivanah didn’t care to turn. She hailed a cab standing nearby and was on her way home. Her phone
rang flashing Ishita’s name. Rivanah wiped the tears from her eyes and took the call. ‘Where were
you, girl?’ she asked.
‘Sorry, I was at a remote place with my office team. Didn’t have network coverage there. I just
received a missed call alert. Did you find a lead to Hiya Chowdhury?’
‘Now who on earth is Hiya Chowdhury? What are you talking about, Ishita?’ Rivanah said. There
was total silence from Ishita’s side.
 7

‘Though I would have liked to go with you, Mini, I couldn’t manage to get leave,’ Mr Bannerjee
said, kissing his daughter’s forehead. Rivanah’s parents were seeing her off at the airport.
‘Don’t worry, Baba. I can take care of myself. I’ll be all right,’ Rivanah said. Though her father’s
anxiety was to be expected, especially after the attack, this time he seemed more uncomfortable than
last time she flew to Mumbai. She hugged him hoping it would help. So much had happened after the
Stranger’s attack that it didn’t seem as threatening to her now as it had then.
‘Take care, shona.’ Mrs Bannerjee kissed her daughter’s cheeks. And whispered in her ears, ‘I
have packed a box of nalen gurer sandesh for Danny. Baba doesn’t know.’ Rivanah couldn’t help but
kiss her mother back.
‘I’ll miss you both,’ she said.
Right then one of the security personnel came up to Mr Bannerjee and asked him to move his car
from the gate since he wasn’t allowed to park there.
‘You guys leave now. I’ll call you right after my security check,’ Rivanah said.
She waved her parents goodbye and waited till they drove out of sight. Then she walked briskly
with her luggage to the departure gate nearby; Ishita was waiting for her there.
‘Just tell me you were joking on the phone last night?’ said Ishita the moment Rivanah reached her.
Ishita couldn’t make head or tail of what Rivanah was talking about when she had said she didn’t
know who Hiya Chowdhury was, so she had decided to meet her in person this morning.
‘No, I wasn’t. Who is Hiya Chowdhury? And why would I joke about someone whose name I’m
hearing for the first time?’ Rivanah was as genuine as she was on phone the previous night. Ishita
showed her phone to Rivanah. There was a WhatsApp message Ishita had sent to Rivanah a couple of
days before. It read:
I’m off for few days. Let me know if you come to know anything about Hiya.
Why isn’t this message there in my phone when Ishita’s WhatsApp shows a blue tick? Rivanah
was clueless.
‘I haven’t read this message of yours,’ Rivanah said aloud.
‘Well, someone did.’
Was it the Stranger? Rivanah wondered. Ishita took a few minutes to relay all that Rivanah had
told her regarding the Stranger and Hiya after she reached Kolkata. She also recounted how they had
followed Argho to Hiya’s house, met her parents and realized Rivanah’s life could be in danger since
they both believed the Stranger might have killed Hiya.
 I remember the Stranger, Rivanah wondered, I also remember Argho but why don’t I remember
Hiya Chowdhury and the visit to her house then? Ishita can’t be lying about this girl named Hiya.
Why would she?
‘Now don’t tell me you have forgotten it all?’ Ishita looked a little unnerved.
Rivanah nodded. ‘I really don’t remember any of this.’
‘Oh my God. Does the Stranger practise some black magic shit?’
Rivanah swallowed a lump remembering the fire in her room. Your end is coming soon. Was the
Stranger really going to kill her? But why? What harm had she done to him? On the contrary, she had
always done whatever he had asked of her—except, she hadn’t confessed to Danny yet. The Stranger
had already avenged that by telling Tista about it. What more did he want?
‘I think you should go now,’ Ishita said, looking at the board. It was time for security check.
‘Yeah, I suppose I should.’
‘But I’m really worried for you, dear. Just take care and let me know if I can help. If something out
of the ordinary happens, do inform Uncle and Aunty,’ Ishita instructed, hugging her friend. Once she
broke the hug, Rivanah pulled her luggage and went inside. She went straight to the security check and
realized she hadn’t collected her boarding pass. She could sense a tension brewing within her and it
made her head reel. She sat down for a moment holding her head. Nothing was making sense. If Ishita
was to be believed, she already knew a lot about Hiya, so then why could she not remember anything?
Just then her phone rang. It was her father.
‘We just reached home. Are you done with your security check, Mini?’
‘Yes, Baba. All done,’ she somehow managed to speak.
‘Good. Call me once you board,’ he said and hung up.
Rivanah knew she couldn’t sit there for long. She went to collect her boarding pass. Right after the
security check, she saw Danny’s missed call on her phone. Only she knew how much she craved to be
in his strong arms that moment, safe and sound. She immediately called him back.
‘Hey baby.’ He answered on the first ring.
‘I love you, Danny.’
‘Whoa, I’m having a morning wood and your voice isn’t helping much.’
Rivanah managed a smile. ‘Just hold it. I’ll be there in three hours.’
‘I’m not a fucking Viagra that I will hold-on for that long without you here. So give me enough
reason to prolong my hard on,’ Danny said naughtily.
He didn’t know she wasn’t quite in the mood.
‘Actually Danny . . .’
‘Airports have washrooms, right?’
He is really in the mood now, Rivanah thought, and decided it would be better to tell him about
what was troubling her when they met.
‘Hold on, cowboy,’ she said and cut the line. Rivanah located the ladies’ washroom, went straight
inside the toilet and shut the door. She quickly raised her top to expose her royal-blue bra and clicked
a pouting selfie showcasing her soft cleavage. She sent the picture to Danny.
 That’s such a lifesaver. Thanks, baby. Have a safe flight back. Your cowboy is waiting. In fact,
both your cowboys are waiting. He WhatsApped back with a wink emoticon.
She replied with three kiss emoticons. And then sat on the toilet sink trying to think clearly. Why
the hell can’t I remember Hiya Chowdhury? Who deleted Ishita’s message from my phone? Nothing
made sense; she gave up. Rivanah slept through the entire flight.
By the time she reached her flat in Lokhandwala, Andheri West, she had prepared herself to meet
Danny with as much eagerness as he had voiced on phone few hours back. She noticed the door was
already slightly ajar. With a frown she pushed the door open and was taken aback. The entire room
was stuffed with heart-shaped balloons. There were so many that she couldn’t even step inside. She
caught hold of a balloon and read what was written right across the centre: Will you marry me?
She checked two more balloons, and they all had the same thing written on them. A smile touched
her face. This was completely unexpected.
She called out to Danny. ‘Baby, you there? How do I come in?’
‘If your answer is yes,’ Danny said from somewhere inside the flat, ‘take the lighter kept under the
doormat and burst the balloons to come in.’
She picked up the lighter, and burst the first balloon. Then she burst another one, and another one.
She managed to squeeze into the flat and close the main door behind her.
‘Keep coming,’ Danny said.
With a smile, Rivanah punctured another one with the lighter. Slowly it turned into a game she was
starting to enjoy. The more balloons she burst, the deeper she went into her own flat. Finally she saw
Danny right in the middle of the room, where he had positioned himself amidst the balloons.
‘How did you do that?’ she said, checking him out. He was in his boxer shorts. Only his boxer
shorts.
‘Do you think I’m in the mood to talk?’ Danny said and lifted her. He took her to the bedroom
where he had sprinkled rose petals all over the bed.
‘I must say I’m impressed,’ she said as Danny placed her on the bed.
‘Now time to impress me,’ he said and tugged down his boxers. He was kneeling on the bed while
Rivanah was lying on her back looking at him. Her eyes slowly went down to his raging hard-on. She
moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. After the weeks-long dry spell, a sexual monsoon
loomed large as Rivanah pushed him on the bed with her feet. She then sat on top of him, putting both
her legs on either side. In a flash, she removed her tee. As she bent down to kiss him, he unhooked her
bra. It came off as she sat straight again. She was getting aroused slowly. She started rubbing her
pelvis on his hard-on, turning it even harder. He unbuttoned her jeans, unzipped it and, with her help,
tugged it down along with her panties. He was surprised how wet she was. As he held his penis, she
lifted her back only to sit on it gently, allowing it to quite deftly go inside her. With her hands on his
chest, Rivanah shut her eyes tight and started slowly moving her pelvis. As the initial pain of insertion
slowly turned into pleasure, her mind kept switching between pleasure and reality. Though she didn’t
like how things had ended with Ekansh, she now felt it was for the best. With Ekansh in her life, she
had to constantly juggle between whether to tell Danny the truth or not, but now when she was sure of
not seeing Ekansh’s face ever again, she could well bury the sexual slip in her subconscious labelling
it as ‘a nothing’.
Danny flipped her without warning, and from her being on top, it changed into the missionary
position. Danny took her legs on his shoulders, rubbing his face on her calf, while Rivanah still had
her eyes shut, clutching the bed sheet tight with both hands. His intense and strong thrusts felt like he
was making her disappear. With every passing moment, she felt as light as a feather. All her defences
seemed conquered, all her filters seemed compromised. If Danny had probed at that moment she
would have confessed what had happened between Ekansh and her in the flat. Feeling his breath on
her face, she opened her eyes. Danny had leaned forward and was now close to her. His lips pursed
hers, and in no time, he took her tongue in his mouth. She understood that confession was the easy
part. What was difficult was the explanation. Why were she and Ekansh intimate in the flat even
though they had broken up long before that? Until that moment, she had sworn to herself she hated
Ekansh up to the hilt. How could she dress the complex thoughts that propelled her to first indulge in
the act with all her heart and then keep it a secret from Danny with words? How does one explain the
plausibility of such a thing? Rivanah wondered, as she felt Danny squeezing her boobs with both his
hands and sucking on her nipples alternately. He had increased his pace by now and she had wrapped
her legs tightly around him to escalate her pleasure. Soon the thrusts became even harder, the moans
louder, and they both climaxed as Danny came inside her. Both were panting as he looked at her and
said, ‘Sorry, I came inside you.’
‘It’s okay. I’m on my safe period. Hopefully!’ she winked at him. He kissed her. Danny flipped her
once again, bringing her on top of him. She placed her ears on his chest and could hear his heart beat
fast. He held her tight in his arms. They slept in that position for a good five hours. When she woke up
with a start, it was close to lunchtime. The fact that she should have been at work made her sit up. But
right then, a strong pull made her collapse on the bed again.
‘No office today,’ Danny said in a groggy tone.
‘Why?’
‘Because I said so. One more day of leave won’t change anything.’
Rivanah looked at him and caressed his already ruffled hair. To her, he seemed like the most
desirable man on the planet. She picked up her phone and texted her teammate to manage without her
for one more day. Next, she called her parents and told them she had reached Mumbai safely and
would have called sooner had she not slept. The moment she put the phone down, Danny pulled her
towards him and pinned her hands to take control of her.
‘Relax. I’m not going anywhere,’ she said, with a warm smile.
‘Yes, you are,’ Danny said.
‘Huh?’
‘To fairyland.’
Before she knew it, Danny was kissing his way to her navel. She somehow managed to push him
away saying, ‘Let’s eat something first.’ She climbed down and took out a pair of shorts and a
spaghetti top from her wardrobe. She could sense Danny’s eyes on her all the time. It made her blush.
As Rivanah went to the kitchen to fix a meal, Danny came from behind and scooped her up, lifting her
off the kitchen floor.
‘Danny!’
Before she could say anything, he took her to the bathroom and placed her under the shower. As the
water came cascading down, she knew how much he had missed her. And with every kiss, she
realized how much she too had missed him.
‘I want to eat her first,’ he said. She knew what he meant as he went down on his knees, putting the
tip of his tongue on her belly button. Rivanah gripped his hair tightly. He had always been passionate
in his lovemaking. The pleasure hormones released by Danny’s touch made her feel lucky, accepted,
wanted and thoroughly desired. Danny stood up. As they smooched under the cold shower, she
realized whatever had happened was for good. Now she won’t have to fight guilt. Ekansh was finally
history and so was whatever had transpired between them.
After a prolonged fondling under the shower, they finally had lunch. Having catered to the two most
basic requirements of human beings—sex and food, they collapsed on the bed. Rivanah and Danny
slept in a tight embrace, as if never wanting to let go. Listening to Danny’s soft snores, she too closed
her eyes.
Rivanah woke up startled and anxious. She had had a nightmare . . . someone was following her . .
. she was running in a forest . . . all alone . . . discovering a wooden house . . . and then seeing
herself in a sexual act with a man whose face was hidden . . . and as he tried to press her throat
and kill her . . . Rivanah relaxed when she realized she was lying beside Danny. It had been some
time since she had had a nightmare. In the silence of the room, she could hear her heart beating fast.
Danny shifted slightly asking her if there was any problem. She said no and asked him to go back to
sleep, got down from the bed to fetch some water when she heard a bell ring a couple of times. She
went to the window and saw an ice-cream wallah who had brought his small van inside their building
—Krishna Towers—for eager children. An intense desire for ice cream propelled her to leave Danny
alone in the flat and rush out to get one.
As she was coming back after buying an ice cream for herself, just when she was about to step into
her wing, someone threw a bucket full of water on her—or so she thought. Looking up towards the
terrace, she hurled an abuse at whoever it was. But she stopped dead when a staunch smell of
kerosene infiltrated her nostrils. She had been drenched in kerosene! And when she looked up again,
she saw a flaming arrow approaching her. She knew she had to move away or else . . .
 8

The arrow fell right beside Rivanah’s feet. The ground where the kerosene had spilt caught fire
immediately. Survival instinct pushed Rivanah to dash towards the building entrance. The fire trailed
her rapidly. It was about to touch her when one of the two security guards seated at the entrance came
and poured an entire bottle of water on it, extinguishing the trail. The guard looked up at Rivanah who
was screaming her lungs out. He tried to calm her down but her screams only escalated. A few
residents of the colony peeped out of their windows. Rivanah stopped her screams and said, ‘He will
kill me.’
‘Take her to her flat,’ one of the inhabitants shouted at the guard from the first-floor flat.
‘Is there someone living with her?’ asked another.
‘Call the police maybe,’ said a third.
A woman who lived on the ground floor took Rivanah to the elevator with the help of one of the
guards and then to her flat, while the other guard went to the terrace and the other flats to try and find
out who could be behind all this.
Danny was shocked to see Rivanah shuddering when he opened the main door all confused. She
hugged him tightly. The guard felt awkward and, without clarifying, left the couple and went up to the
terrace to join his colleague. Danny closed the door behind.
‘What happened, baby? When did you go out? And why are you smelling of . . .’ Danny sniffed and
added, ‘kerosene?’
‘He tried to kill me.’
‘He?’ Danny’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Who is this he?’
‘Argho Chowdhury.’
‘Who is this guy?’ Danny said, cupping her face and compelling her to make an eye contact.
‘He works in my office.’ And I am sure he is the Stranger. But she couldn’t tell Danny that.
‘Why the hell would he try to kill you? Are you hiding anything from me, Rivanah?’ Danny’s eyes
showed evidence of genuine care. And what she had for him was a lie.
‘No.’
A guilt-laden no. That’s all she could manage before averting her eyes.
‘Then is he a lunatic to try to kill you?’
Rivanah looked up at him and said softly, ‘I’m scared, Danny.’
He hugged her tighter.
‘You don’t have to be as long as I’m with you,’ he whispered in her ears. ‘First, take a shower and
get rid of this smell.’
 Danny guided her to the shower and closed the bathroom door. Rivanah took off her clothes and
stood under the shower. The image of the fireball flashed in front of her eyes. What if she had not seen
it coming? She would have had burnt to death by now. She slowly applied the shower gel to get rid of
the kerosene smell, all the while trying to get a grip on herself. Why the hell does Argho want to kill
me? Revenge? For what? Have I forgotten something the way I forgot about Hiya Chowdhury a
few days back? Am I suffering from amnesia or Alzheimer’s?
Rivanah came out of the shower after almost an hour. She was feeling and smelling fresh. Danny
was working on his laptop.
‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked.
‘Better.’ She came to him and kissed him on the cheeks.
‘For you,’ he said as he pushed a mug with steaming black coffee towards her.
‘Thanks.’
‘The guards told me they didn’t notice anyone or anything odd in the terrace.’
I was sure they didn’t, Rivanah thought.
‘Now tell me what you haven’t told me yet,’ Danny said.
Rivanah’s heart skipped a beat.
‘Who is Argho?’ he said.
Rivanah swallowed a lump and then spoke, ‘I think he is the Stranger.’
There was a deep frown on Danny’s face.
‘You mean . . .’
Rivanah nodded as if she had read his mind.
‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ He sounded cross.
‘I never thought it would come to this.’
‘That’s not the point. The point is that you didn’t tell me about it.’
‘I’m . . . sorry . . . Danny.’ Only she knew she was apologizing for more than one thing.
In the silence that followed, they stood hugging each other with Danny caressing her back.
‘I was just talking to a friend. He said he has good connections with the police.’
‘Hmm,’ Rivanah said, feeling Danny break the hug. As they settled on the bed, Rivanah picked up
her phone. Should I message the Stranger and ask him what the fuck he wants from me? She
scrolled down her Contacts. It had been some time since she had had any sort of communication with
him. But was there any point in messaging him? He had made his intention clear: he wants her dead—
for reasons best known to him. If Ishita was to be believed, they had together guessed that the Stranger
may have killed Hiya as well and projected the entire incident as a suicide and was now pinning it all
on Rivanah. But . . . why? She heard Danny’s phone buzz.
‘My friend messaged saying he will take us to his uncle who is the assistant commissioner of
Mumbai,’ Danny said.
‘Thanks, Danny,’ Rivanah said. It was time something was done about the Stranger.
 9

Rivanah was the first to wake up the next morning. Giving a peck to a sleeping Danny, she went to
fetch the milk packets and the day’s newspaper from her doorstep. As she crossed the living room to
reach the kitchen, she noticed a sketch board. She frowned; she hadn’t noticed it lying there before.
She tossed the newspaper on the sofa and sauntered to the kitchen to put the milk packets in the fridge
and then came right back to stand in front of the board. There was a sketch of a pair of eyes, a nose,
lips and ears but the contour of the face was missing. Danny never told me he sketches, she
wondered and checked the sketches under the first one. Each of them had her name signed at the
bottom-right corner. She was about to turn around when she felt a pair of hands around her waist.
‘What are you doing, baby?’ It was Danny.
‘Did I sketch these?’
‘Of course, you did,’ Danny said and licked the back of her ears subtly. It tickled her senses but her
mind was elsewhere. If she had sketched them, why didn’t she remember it? Just like she didn’t
remember Hiya Chowdhury? Why did Ishita have to relay everything she had experienced herself
only days back? Rivanah was deeply immersed in her thoughts.
‘What happened?’ Danny said, sensing a certain stiffness in her.
‘Nothing.’
‘Not in the mood?’
She gave him a weak smile.
‘I understand. Anyway, get ready,’ he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. ‘We need to go to the
police first. Then I have to meet the producer of my film.’
‘How is the film going, Danny?’ Rivanah said and felt a tad guilty for not having asked sooner. She
had been so preoccupied with what was happening in her own life that she had forgotten that Danny’s
life too, somewhere, touched her. The last time she had inquired about him was when she had talked
to him on phone from Kolkata.
‘So far so good. Two more shoot schedules left. One in Mumbai and the other one in Delhi.’
‘Great. By the way, I have to go to office today. I can’t take any more leaves.’
‘That’s why I said, get ready quickly.’

Danny and Rivanah picked up his friend from Bandra, and together they went to the friend’s uncle’s
place in Mumbai Central. All through the drive, Rivanah kept quiet but her mind was constantly
probing the reason for her forgetfulness. First Hiya, and now the sketches. This, she understood, had
to be the second dot—forgetting Hiya was the first. But she had never forgotten the Stranger. Were
these two dots exclusive of the Stranger? Or, would she get the third dot only when she joins the first
two properly? Every question was a dead end and it made her all the more frustrated. Moreover, now
she only knew as much about Hiya Chowdhury as Ishita had relayed to her. What about the stuff she
may have known earlier? How the hell had she become so forgetful?
Danny’s friend took them to his uncle, Assistant Commissioner Dharmesh Waghdhare, whose house
had a constant influx of constables. At fifty-five, Mr Waghdhare had a rather amicable personality for
a police officer. He met the trio over breakfast. It was Danny who narrated what had happened the
previous night.
‘So nobody has seen the person who threw kerosene on her?’
‘No. I asked the security guards and other people this morning, but nobody saw any one,’ Danny
said.
‘Aren’t there any CCTV cameras in your building?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Do you suspect anyone?’
Rivanah glanced at Danny and then said, ‘There is a senior in my office.’
‘Argho Chowdhury,’ Danny added.
‘And why would he do such a thing? Spurned lover, you think?’ Dharmesh asked, finishing his poha
and taking a sip from his mango shake.
‘I never got any love-struck vibes from him, which is why I’m all the more confused—why would
he do something like this?’ Rivanah wondered aloud, fully aware that she wasn’t making much sense.
She wanted to disclose the Kolkata incident to Waghdhare and that a complaint had already been
registered with the Kolkata Police, but, because of Danny’s presence, she didn’t. She had still not told
him about it and disclosing it now would only put a strain on his trust. According to the Kolkata
Police, Argho had an alibi. He flew out of Kolkata a day before the incident. But he could have
bribed someone else to come to her house and create the deadly mess.
‘Hmm, you don’t seem to know of any possible reason, but you still think Argho could be trying to
kill you? That’s a big allegation,’ he said. Waghdhare had years of experience which had sharpened
his instinct for crime. He felt Rivanah was hiding something. Or that some important part of the puzzle
was missing.
‘The thing is, I can get this Argho guy picked up for interrogation, but I would rather catch him red-
handed. If he is guilty, that is.’ He looked at all of them one by one as he spoke. ‘So I’ll ask one of my
men to follow him for a week or so. Let’s see what comes up.’
‘What if he attacks again?’ Rivanah blurted.
‘My man will be there. Any suspicious activity, and Argho Chowdhury will be taken into custody.’
Rivanah moistened her dry lips anxiously and glanced at Danny. ‘So we will leave now, uncle,’ his
friend said, as he stood up.
‘Sure,’ Dharmesh said and turned to Rivanah to say, ‘My man will contact you in some time. Give
him all the details of Argho Chowdhury, and when you are in office, make sure you don’t make it
obvious that he’s a suspect. Also, remain alert always.’
 ‘Sure, sir,’ Rivanah said, and left with Danny who dropped her to her office. Once Rivanah was in,
she was extra conscious of Argho’s presence. Though their cubicles were far apart, if she pushed her
chair back a little, Argho’s cubicle would be visible to her.
Argho came in half an hour late. The promised phone call from the policeman came within minutes
of Argho’s arrival in the office. Rivanah told him whatever she could about Argho. The policeman,
Sadhu Ram, asked her to calm down and to make sure her suspicion wasn’t obvious. The rest he
would manage since he had already collected Argho’s photograph, address and phone number.
Though Rivanah had piles of work, she kept her eyes on Argho. If he went to the washroom, she
excused herself and paced up and down right in front of the men’s washroom. She was sure Argho
would message her from inside the washroom from one of the Stranger’s numbers. But nothing
happened. Instead, there was a momentary, awkward eye contact with Argho when he came out of the
washroom.
‘Hey, congrats,’ he said.
‘Huh?’ Rivanah was stumped.
‘I saw you at the convocation ceremony in Kolkata.’
‘Oh!’ She could feel a cold sweat forming right behind her ears. ‘Thanks,’ she managed to say.
What else did he see? Ishita and me following him to his cousin Hiya’s place? she wondered as
Argho moved on.
Once she was back at her cubicle, they exchanged a few casual glances, but nothing out of the
ordinary. Rivanah was slightly embarrassed by the thought that if Argo was really the Stranger, then
he had seen her in all kinds of nudity; both physical and emotional. How do you face a person in that
case? Later in the day, she somehow controlled the itch to keep an eye on him, reminding herself that
all will be clear in a week’s time. One week, Rivanah leaned back on her chair and wondered, and
finally the whole mystery will end. Talking of mysteries, it struck her that she should continue
sketching if she knew the craft. The sketches at her place told her she wasn’t exactly a novice. But one
more issue still remained: why did she forget about the sketches, like she had forgotten about Hiya?
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Rivanah heard one of her team members say. She opened her eyes and sat up
straight on her chair and saw most of the employees rushing off somewhere. She quickly caught up
with one of them.
‘What happened? Fire drill?’ Rivanah tried to guess.
‘No, yaar,’ Rekha, her teammate, said. ‘You weren’t here last week. It was announced that Samir
Bajaj would deliver a lecture on successful business start-ups. He is here.’
‘Samir Bajaj?’
‘The entrepreneur of the year: Samir Bajaj. Of Bajaj Corps.’
‘Oh,’ Rivanah said, making a face as she followed Rekha to the boardroom. The whole thing
sounded dead boring to her.
The boardroom was packed with employees, making Rivanah feel claustrophobic. The two chairs
in the centre were reserved for Samir Bajaj and the CEO of her company, Anil Khanna. There were a
few mineral-water bottles kept in the front, a bouquet and couple of small trays with Ferrero Rochers
on it. They were her weakness. She went near the chairs and as others were busy chit-chatting and
tapping on their mobile phones Rivanah picked up a handful of chocolates and stealthily went and
stood in a corner.
The lecture was exactly as Rivanah had predicted: BORING. Sometime in the middle of it, she
managed to step out of the boardroom, popped one of the chocolates into her mouth and went back to
her cubicle. There was nobody in the entire floor except for few office boys. She had last seen Argho
in the boardroom with his colleagues. Rivanah thought of checking her Facebook but what she saw on
her desktop monitor made her go numb. A Word doc was open and had bold, red-coloured words in
font size 36:
It’s farewell, Mini.
Before she knew, Rivanah was already sweating in the air-conditioned floor of her office. Out of
fear, she walked briskly to the boardroom again. She didn’t dare to turn and check if anyone was
watching or following her. The moment she entered the boardroom, she heard people applauding. The
session was finally over. She noticed Argho on the opposite side. He did look at her but Rivanah
couldn’t guess if it was an intentional gaze or a casual one. Mr Bajaj and Mr Khanna walked out of
the boardroom together. Everyone else started to file out too. Once the crowd became thin, she went
towards the exit only to be stopped by someone.
‘You left these,’ the man said. He had few Ferrero Rochers in his hand. It was the same greenish-
eyed man who had saved her in the elevator and once more in the backstairs. He had an amused
expression on his face; he had obviously seen Rivanah stealing the other Ferrero Rochers from the
plate.
‘I’m sorry. Actually, I can’t resist these,’ she said apologetically.
‘It’s okay. Stealing chocolates isn’t a crime.’ He flashed a smile and Rivanah’s mind buzzed with a
new-crush alert. She took the chocolates from him.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
The man turned and started walking away, when she stopped him saying, ‘Excuse me! I’m Rivanah
Bannerjee.’ She extended her hand for a handshake.
‘Call me Nivan,’ he said and shook her hand with a firmnesss that evoked certain forbidden
thoughts in Rivanah’s mind. Before she could follow him further to know which department he
worked in, she remembered she had something more important waiting. Rivanah called Sadhu Ram,
clicked a picture of the Word document on her screen, and sent it to him on WhatsApp as directed. He
asked her to be extra alert.
Rivanah was expecting a call from Sadhu Ram but it didn’t come. She left office early and took a
cab home. She noticed a bike was always moving parallel to her cab. The rider whose head was
hidden inside a mercury-coated helmet kept looking sideways. Rivanah’s heart was in her mouth.
There was no prize for guessing who this rider could be. What if he attacked her? She rolled up the
window of the cab and asked the driver to go faster, but it didn’t matter how fast he drove, the rider
was always parallel to her. Did he come to know about the police guy following him? Rivanah was
getting nervous with every passing second. She kept Sadhu Ram’s number open on her phone.
Finally, at one of the traffic signals, the rider halted right next to Rivanah’s cab and climbed down
the bike. Her heart almost stopped. She checked if the cab’s door was locked; it was. The rider came
right up to the window and removed his helmet. It was Ekansh. For a moment, she didn’t know how to
react. Next, out of rage, she rolled down the cab’s window. But before Rivanah could ask him why
the hell he was stalking her like a fool, he said, ‘I have found a way to apologize to Tista.’
Somehow he didn’t look like his former self.
 10

‘What the hell are you talking about, Ekansh?’ Rivanah said. Before she could get around to asking
him why he was following her, the traffic light turned green. Vehicles behind them were honking, with
drivers hurling abuses at them for holding up the traffic on a busy street. Ekansh wasn’t ready to go
back to his bike. Rivanah didn’t know what to do, nor did the cab driver. He kept inching the cab
ahead while Ekansh kept jogging alongside.
‘Ekansh!’ Rivanah rebuked, ‘Get your damn bike and meet me at the other side of the signal.’ To the
driver she said, ‘Bhaiya, signal ke aage side kar dijiye.’
The cab driver mentally abused Ekansh for cutting his drive short. Once he crossed the signal and
parked the car, Rivanah paid the fare and got down. Ekansh by then had parked his bike right behind
the cab. She went straight to him.
‘What’s your problem, Ekansh?’
‘Rivanah, I’m sorry,’ he said, removing his helmet once again.
‘Why are you doing this to me? We are done. Like done! Let’s not re-establish contact ever again.’
‘Can we please sit and talk?’
‘No! We can’t!’ Rivanah was furious. She looked around only to realize her pitch was loud enough
to attract attention. Heads were turning in their direction. It made her uncomfortable.
‘Okay, let’s go,’ she said.
She wanted to be done with this once and for all. Rivanah rode pillion as they headed to the nearest
CCD outlet.
‘Tell me, what is it?’ Rivanah snapped, once Ekansh had placed his order.
‘Firstly, I’m sorry,’ Ekansh said.
‘Your sorry irritates me, Ekansh. You always say sorry but you are never really sorry. So please cut
the crap and tell me why you were following me. You were saying something about Tista?’
‘I couldn’t sleep after Tista passed away. I felt restless all the time thinking that Tista knew what
happened and I couldn’t even say sorry to her.’
‘Again sorry? Listen, you either come straight to the point or I’m out of here.’
Ekansh understood that Rivanah was losing patience. ‘I won’t be able to live in peace if I don’t
apologize to her.’
Rivanah stared at Ekansh like he had lost it completely. ‘Didn’t Tista die in front of both of us?’
Ekansh nodded.
‘Then what is this “I want to apologize to her” bullshit?’
‘Planchette.’
 ‘What?’ Her disbelief pushed her to reconfirm with him.
‘I will call upon her soul and apologize.’
She knew what a planchette was. Once or twice during college, some friends had talked about it
eagerly, but nobody had ever tried it. Rivanah didn’t even know if it was real. Can souls be really
recalled? Rivanah knew she couldn’t be a part of this nonsense.
‘Ekansh, I can’t help you in this, and please don’t follow me or try to contact me again. I’m sorry
for whatever happened with Tista, I really am, but I too have a life. Let me live it peacefully,’ she said
and started to walk away.
‘Don’t you want to apologize to Tista too?’ he asked. His high pitch made the other customers look
at them with curiosity. She gave him a you-are-incorrigible look and stormed out.
Rivanah knew she was being rude but she didn’t care. To cut all ties, one had to be rude at times.
She had already tried it the other way and it hadn’t worked.
Once Rivanah reached home, she called Danny. He didn’t answer but a minute later messaged that
he was in a meeting and would call back right after it ended. Loneliness brought the memory of Tista.
Her face started flashing in front of Rivanah along with Ekansh’s last words to her: Don’t you want to
apologize too? Ekansh’s guilt was spreading its roots deep in her as well. She had chosen to ignore
it, Ekansh hadn’t. But now, after meeting him, she was forced to pay attention to it. And who was
responsible for this guilt? Who had told Tista about the unplanned ‘escapade’ between Ekansh and
her?
Rivanah called up Sadhu Ram. ‘Sadhu Ramji, any news yet?’
‘Just been two hours. As of now, nothing. Argho Chowdhury lives in Andheri East. I’m right
outside his building.’
‘All right.’
‘Don’t worry, I shall let you know if I get anything.’
‘Okay, thank you.’
Rivanah thought of messaging the Stranger; it didn’t matter to her then if it was Argho. He owed her
an explanation as to why he had told Tista and made everyone’s life miserable. Including the one who
was dead.
Why did you tell Tista the truth? Rivanah tapped her phone hard to write the message and sent it to
all the numbers she had saved of the Stranger.
Why didn’t you tell Danny the truth? came the Stranger’s reply. Rivanah frowned, reading the
message, and dialled the number from which she had received it, pressing her phone against her ears.
‘Hello, Mini,’ the Stranger said in a male voice.
‘Get this right: I will not tell Danny the truth, okay?’
‘Then I will,’ the Stranger replied in a poised manner.
‘You will not!’ Rivanah brought the phone in front of her mouth and almost screamed at it.
‘I sure will.’ The tone remained unaffected.
A few seconds of silence later, Rivanah added, ‘Please. I beg you. I’m done with Ekansh. Telling
Danny the truth may not go well. I just don’t want to take a chance.’
‘If you don’t take a chance, you will never know how true your love is.’
 ‘I already know how true our love is, so please spare me.’
‘You have no idea, Mini, how much these assumptions of yours excite me to prove you otherwise.’
Rivanah swallowed a lump.
‘You are simply impossible,’ she said and hung up.
The next second the Stranger messaged back: Guilty as charged. A pissed-off Rivanah put her
phone away and opened her laptop to distract herself. There was no way she was going to tell Danny
about what had happened between Ekansh and her. Definitely not now, when everything was back on
track between Danny and her. She was about to log in to her Facebook when another message popped
up on her phone.
Please!
It was a WhatsApp from Ekansh. Rivanah didn’t care to reply. She put her phone on silent mode
and continued logging on to Facebook. She checked her phone again. There was a missed call from
Ekansh. This guy has turned nuts! Does he really think I will help him with . . . what was the word .
. . planchette? She wondered and, after a thoughtful moment, typed the word on Google. For the next
one hour, Rivanah read whatever Google had to offer on planchette. And most of them were real life
incidents—or so the articles claimed. There was one particular article which piqued her interest the
most. It said that a planchette was done by a group of relatives to connect with the spirit of a person
who was murdered. And they claimed that through planchette they identified who the murderer was. It
sounded like a television script but it intrigued her. Could it be true? If yes, then all her problems
would end in one go. Was it worth a try? What will she lose even if it’s a bluff? Rivanah picked up
her phone and stared at Ekansh’s name for some time before finally dialling his number. He answered
on the second ring itself.
‘Hi. I knew you would call.’
She ignored the comment and came straight to the point.
‘I shall help you communicate with Tista, but I have a condition.’
‘What condition?’
‘You too will have to help me communicate with someone.’
‘Who?’
‘Hiya Chowdhury.’
 11

The plan seemed perfect. Rivanah would go to Ekansh’s place right after office. And together they
would call upon the spirit of Tista first and then Hiya through planchette, and help each other get rid
of their personal burdens. Ekansh wanted to apologize while Rivanah wanted to ask Hiya who her
killer was. Ekansh enquired why she wanted to know who killed Hiya when the entire college knew
she committed suicide; Rivanah simply put forward her second condition: no questions. But she
didn’t let Ekansh go without asking him a few questions of her own.
‘Was Hiya my friend?’ she asked.
‘She was your batchmate. The topper.’
‘What else do you know about Hiya and me?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just answer me, Ekansh.’
‘Nothing more. But why are you asking me? Whatever I know, you too should know, right? In fact,
you would know more since she was your batchmate, not mine.’
Rivanah didn’t answer. Now, standing by the window of her bedroom, she wondered how she
could answer something she didn’t remember about herself.
Danny called for her attention.
‘Can we go for dinner tomorrow night? Maybe I’ll get free early,’ he said, sipping on green tea
while phone-browsing.
‘Sure, we can.’ She didn’t want to refuse now and raise an alarm. But she knew that she would
have to call Danny after work and, on the pretext of an important meeting, go straight to Ekansh’s
place to finish the chapter of the Stranger’s identity once and for all. Then she would come back to be
with Danny. Forever. Forever: the root of all flowery assumptions in a love story, she thought and
knew no one could severe oneself from this concept since it is forever that makes the fight for love
worth it. Somewhere, the fact that she was ready to remain committed to Danny forever helped her
justify her lie to him. And what was the truth anyway? That Ekansh and she had fucked that night in the
flat? It was one of those random slips which . . . Rivanah checked her thoughts . . . well, it wasn’t a
random slip. Such vulnerability towards someone happens when that someone defines almost the
whole of your past. And more often than not, it is a permanent vulnerability. After all, time isn’t a
strong-enough detergent to wash off certain spots of memories.
The planchette though, Rivanah thought, was her best bet to clean up her life once and for all.
First, she wouldn’t meet Ekansh ever again after this, and second, she would know who the Stranger
is since she was sure he was the one who had killed Hiya. She would then move on with Danny to
happier and less-confusing times.
The next day Rivanah went to her office on time. Seeing Argho reminded her that she had received
no intimation from Sadhu Ram. She wanted to call him but stopped herself, deciding it was better to
give Sadhu Ram his own time. Not like he would hold on to information. Tonight something would
anyway come up. Only nine hours remained before they dabbled in planchette.
In the afternoon, she received a message from Ekansh asking if their plan was still on. She wanted
to clarify that it was his plan, and that she was only helping him, but sent a dry ‘yes’ instead. She
didn’t want to give him any signal to lurch on to and initiate something which may progress into
anything even remotely close to a relationship.
After work, Rivanah called Danny and told him she had a meeting and wouldn’t be able to join him
for dinner. But she promised she would prepare his favourite dish the moment she was home. Danny
said he would wait. Rivanah took a cab and rushed to Ekansh’s place. He was putting up at an out-of-
town friend’s place in Santa Cruz.
Ekansh opened the door before Rivanah could press the doorbell.
‘I saw you coming into the building,’ Ekansh said. She gave him a tight smile noticing his dark
circles were more pronounced than ever but chose not to comment. He looked desperate. She didn’t
know what weighed on him more—Tista’s death or his guilt. Did our break up ever weigh on him?
Rivanah thought and stepped into the rather tiny flat.
‘You want to drink some water?’ he said.
‘Let’s go through this quickly, please.’
Ekansh looked at her and nodded.
‘I have arranged everything. Come on in,’ he said.
After a slight hesitation she followed him inside. It was a small, dimly lit bedroom with no
furniture. A rolled-up mattress lay in one corner. In the middle of the room, she noticed, was the Ouija
board used for planchette, as Google had told her a day back. It was an ancient portal to connect to
the dead. Till that moment, she had been eager, but now, as she saw the Ouija board, she felt scared.
Would Tista’s and Hiya’s spirit actually come to them? Her throat went bone dry.
‘I need some water,’ she told Ekansh. He was busy placing a candle at each corner of the Ouija
board.
‘Sure.’ He stood up and went out of the bedroom. Rivanah came forward and knelt down to notice
a coin at the centre of the board. There was a sound and Rivanah’s heart was in her mouth. She turned
to see Ekansh bringing her a glass of water.
‘I’m sorry.’ He realized he had petrified Rivanah.
‘It’s okay.’ It was not. She nervously took the glass of water from him and gulped it down in one go.
‘So how do we go about it?’
Ekansh kept the glass away and sat down beside the Ouija board. He took a deep breath and said,
‘We both sit opposite each other.’
Rivanah sat down right opposite Ekansh. He brought one of the corner candles and put it at the
centre of the board and said, ‘We need to put our index fingers on the coin.’ He put his finger on it.
Rivanah followed. He stretched his hand saying, ‘We must hold our hands.’
Rivanah wasn’t sure.
‘It’s important, Rivanah.’
Reluctantly she stretched her hand. Ekansh clasped it.
‘We need to close our eyes and call upon whom we want to first.’
‘Tista.’ Rivanah wanted to say Hiya’s name first but the hair on her nape had stood up at the thought
of it.
‘We need to call Tista to our mind with utmost attention and focus.’
‘How will we know she is here?’
‘This candle will extinguish on its own,’ he said, glancing at the candle in the centre.
On its own . . . the thought made Rivanah’s tension rise up, shortening her breaths.
‘And with these letters and numbers, we can interact with her,’ Ekansh said, gesturing at the Ouija
board. Rivanah swallowed a lump. How can Ekansh be so cool about all this? she thought. He
looked like he dealt with spirits on a regular basis. Perhaps he was more concerned about his
apology than anything else. Typically selfish Ekansh, Rivanah concluded.
‘Let’s close our eyes and start chanting her name,’ he said and closed his eyes. Rivanah too closed
her eyes and together in their minds they started chanting Tista’s name. Rivanah started having flashes
of all the good times she had spent with Tista, especially that scene with her questioning eyes, as she
looked at her before going in for the surgery. She could never forget those eyes. They had an
accusation in them, as if her trust had been breached. And rightly so. Had she not let the sexual slip
happen with Ekansh that evening in the flat then . . . Rivanah felt Ekansh’s grasp tighten. On an
impulse, she opened her eyes and found him staring at the candle. Its flame had died. Rivanah could
hear her own heart beating. Her body was mildly shivering. Was it real? Was Tista’s spirit in the
room? Suddenly she felt a haunting energy in the room. It freaked her out.
‘Tista, are you there?’ Ekansh spoke up. He sounded brittle. Rivanah didn’t move. She only kept
moving her eye balls from right to left, scared to see an apparition. She suddenly felt Ekansh pushing
her finger which was on the coin. And before she could even fight it, the coin was already moved to
the right, to the space in the Ouija board marked ‘yes’. One glance at Ekansh and she knew he wasn’t
pushing the coin at will. Or was he? There was something eerie in the air and Rivanah felt she
couldn’t breathe any more. Her hands and legs felt heavy and muscles stiff.
‘I’m sorry, Tista,’ he said. Rivanah could sense his lips shiver and voice shudder as he spoke, ‘I
know I broke your trust. But I’m apologizing now.’
Nothing happened.
‘Will you please—?’
One of the windows in the room opened suddenly. Rivanah was about to stand up but Ekansh held
on to her tightly. She was profusely sweating by now. I’m not doing this again, Rivanah promised
herself, as she heard Ekansh speak again. She had never felt her heart beating so hard.
‘Will you please forgive me, Tista? I love you and I mean it.’ Ekansh was staring at the coin hoping
it would move to his left. A moment later, their fingers on the coin felt a push to the ‘yes’ part of the
board. Was it really a spirit or was it Ekansh’s own guilt manipulating him to push the coin, Rivanah
couldn’t tell.
‘Thank you so much, Tista, for liberating me from this guilt. I miss you.’
Rivanah was glaring at Ekansh. He understood why.
‘Goodbye, Tista,’ he said and the next moment he let Rivanah’s hand go.
‘Are we done?’ she whispered.
‘Yes. Should we call upon Hiya?’
‘No!’ Rivanah stood up.
‘What happened?’
‘I changed my mind. And I’m leaving.’
Ekansh could tell she was scared. Rivanah walked to the drawing room with Ekansh behind her. It
was a foolish idea to even participate in this, she thought. One more minute, and she would have
fainted there.
‘What’s the matter, Rivanah?’
‘Nothing. And, by the way, we are now officially done. Please don’t try to contact me.’
‘I thought we—’
‘Just don’t do that, Ekansh. We are done. Period,’ she said and was about to storm out when her
phone rang. It was Danny. She gestured Ekansh to keep quiet, with a finger on her lips, and took the
call.
‘Hey, baby.’ For Danny, she was having a long day at office. She tried her best to sound tired.
‘Hey, where are you?’
‘Office. I told you I have a long meeting.’
‘Hmm.’ He didn’t sound convinced.
‘What happened?’
‘Someone just messaged me saying you are with Ekansh at his place. I was pretty confident you
weren’t, but I was passing by your office, so thought I’d stop over.’
How could she underestimate this ‘someone’, Rivanah cursed herself and said, ‘Where are you
now?’
‘I’m right outside your office. Can you come out for a minute?’
Rivanah pressed the mute button quickly and looking at Ekansh said, ‘You need to help me out.
Fast!’
 12

‘Give me five minutes. I’ll be downstairs,’ Rivanah told Danny on phone and disconnected. She
wasn’t sure if it was Argho who had messaged Danny, but she decided she would take care of it later.
First, she had to reach Danny.
‘But we can’t reach your office in five minutes,’ Ekansh said, picking up his friend’s bike keys from
the key holder near the main door.
‘We’ll have to,’ Rivanah said and rushed out of the flat. Ekansh followed.
They zoomed to her office on Ekansh’s friend’s bike. The traffic was intense and they had to stop at
almost every signal. Rivanah’s tension grew by the minute as she constantly kept checking the time on
her watch. What if Danny calls back? With such a cacophony of horns all around, he’ll
immediately know I’m not inside the office. Four minutes after they had left, they had only crossed
half the distance. She told Ekansh to speed up. He looked at her via the rear-view mirror and changed
the gear. He didn’t stop at any signal even though most were red. When they were just one traffic
signal away from her office, Ekansh was cornered by three traffic policemen.
‘Damn! Not now,’ Rivanah lamented. As Ekansh stopped his bike and took off his helmet, he turned
around and said, ‘You take an auto and leave. I’ll sort this out.’
Rivanah didn’t waste another second. While she was climbing down the bike, Danny called again.
She let the phone ring for a bit while she hailed an autorickshaw and then cut the call. She
immediately WhatsApped him:
Two minutes, baby. Meeting is getting over.
Okay.
She prayed hard that she would make it on time. No more Ekansh. No more visiting the past. No
more lies to Danny. Rivanah didn’t like one bit of what she was doing. And to negate the dislike, she
kept telling herself, I will make up for it. I really will.
As the autorickshaw took a turn from the Linking Road signal, she noticed a Xylo near the main
gate of her office building. Danny was sitting on the driver’s seat perusing his phone. Even if she
wanted to, she couldn’t afford to get down from the autorickshaw there. She asked the driver to go
around the office building and eventually got down near the back gate. She paid the fare and
WhatsApped Danny:
Where are you? I’m at the back gate.
Oh, I’m at the front. Wait, I’m coming, Danny replied. Waiting for him, Rivanah wondered what a
fool she had been to have involved herself with Ekansh for the planchette. Like always! Every time
she convinced herself she had improved, she ended up doing some stupid act or the other. And her
instinct told her it would continue till she was done with Hiya. Or maybe till Hiya was done with her.
She would have herself died of fear in Ekansh’s flat had she been there for a minute longer. She
wanted to know who had killed Hiya Chowdhury and who the Stranger was, but not this way. This
way, she would only die and join Hiya wherever she was. Rivanah saw a Xylo taking a turn on the
back lane. She waved and walked towards it.
‘I had a talk with Sadhu Ram,’ Danny said the moment Rivanah got into the car and wore her seat
belt. She looked at him expectantly.
‘He said Argho is presently at his flat in Andheri. I also passed him the number from which I
received the message. Sadhu Ram got it checked. It came from the tower closest to Argho’s place.’
‘Goddamn it! Can’t we just get him?’
‘I asked him the same thing. But we need more definite clues to round Argho up since the number
wasn’t registered in his name.’
‘Oh!’ She took Danny’s phone and checked the message:
Rivanah is alone with Ekansh at his friend’s flat in Santa Cruz.
She swallowed a lump because every word of it was true. She checked the number next. A chill ran
through her spine. It was Ekansh’s Mumbai number which, she was sure, the Stranger had duplicated
and used to message Danny.
‘Do you recognize the number?’ Danny asked.
Rivanah shook her head hesitatingly.
‘I ran it via Truecaller. It did throw up a name—Ekansh,’ he said.
Rivanah frowned as if it was news to her.
‘Anyway, where do you want to go for dinner?’ Danny asked, shifting the gear.
‘Home.’
‘Huh?’
‘Remember, I’m supposed to prepare dinner for us tonight,’ she said smiling.
‘Oh yes. Sounds super.’
Rivanah leaned back on her seat, switched on the FM to a channel which was playing a soft
romantic number and tried to relax, hoping Danny would not probe further, when she heard him speak.
‘Don’t take it otherwise, Rivanah, but is there something that I should know but you aren’t telling
me?’
Rivanah glanced at him not knowing how or where to hide her emotions. Yes, there are things I
haven’t told you yet. But, trust me, they aren’t important. Not any more. Those things involve me—
and only me. I know what involves one involves the other too in a relationship, but, trust me, I
won’t let it affect what we share with each other. She locked her jaws tight in order to gulp her
emotions before they made their presence obvious.
‘Has that scoundrel been disturbing you a lot?’ he asked.
Rivanah spoke after a pause, ‘Not really.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think he knows I have been to the police so I haven’t heard anything from him again. Nothing
after the kerosene episode.’
 ‘Hmm.’
Danny surprised Rivanah by clasping her hand gently. He looked at her as he drove on a rather
empty lane.
‘I don’t want a veil between you and me, Rivanah. If we love each other, we shouldn’t have filters.
You get my point?’
Do I get his point? Or do I already know what he means but can’t believe in it enough to
implement it? But Rivanah found herself nodding in agreement. The only filter that love is capable of
building in us is secrecy. When we are in love, we don’t want our own selves to be an enemy of our
relationship. And the more we stick to this want, the more vehemently the filter of secrecy is built.
Though it is to protect something we long to have—the relationship—it is also potent enough to
destroy it.
Once they reached their flat, Rivanah went to the kitchen to prepare lemon rice and pepper chicken,
which they had with red wine. Every time Danny appreciated the preparation, Rivanah’s guilt got a
massage. Done with dinner, she went closer to him and, making herself comfortable in his lap, wine
glass in hand, asked, ‘Danny, you know I love you, right?’
‘Yeah? I never knew that! Mind explaining?’ he said, with an amused smile.
Rivanah looked into his eyes and held his chin in her hand, tilting his face a bit, and then planted a
hard kiss on his lips. The moment their tongues met, she pushed herself inside his mouth and within
seconds squeezed the blood out of his lips.
‘You want more proof, mister?’ This time a wicked amusement reflected in her face.
‘I don’t mind,’ Danny said, maintaining eye contact. Rivanah slowly emptied the entire glass of red
wine over his forehead and then started tracing it as the wine cascaded down his face. She licked his
forehead, his cheeks, his ears, his chin and finally she came back to his lips from where she sucked
the blood out from the tiny wound she had made seconds back. They were about to smooch again
when Rivanah’s phone rang. She pursed Danny’s lips as she picked up her phone. He broke the kiss
and asked, ‘Who is it?’
Rivanah cut the call and said, ‘Nobody.’ She proceeded to kiss him when the phone rang again and
Ekansh’s name appeared on the screen. Danny caught Rivanah glancing at the phone in a spiteful way.
‘Why don’t you just take it?’
Rivanah understood even Danny was affected by it as much as she was. She picked up on the last
ring.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Rivanah . . .’
When will he stop using that goddamn sorry word! Rivanah wondered.
‘I came out with you in a hurry,’ Ekansh said over phone. ‘I forgot my driver’s licence. And now
they have locked me up at the Goregaon police station.’
‘What?’ Rivanah couldn’t hide her shock.
‘Could you please come and bail me out?’ Ekansh said. ‘I called all my friends here in Mumbai.
Nobody is available right now. The ones in Navi Mumbai will take forever to reach.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Rivanah kept shooting furtive glances at Danny trying to maintain a calm demeanour.
‘Okay,’ she said.
 ‘Thanks a lot.’
‘Okay. See you in some time. Bye.’ She hung up and gave an exasperated look at Danny.
‘Office call and you have to go,’ he said.
Rivanah nodded.
‘Then why are you looking so guilty about it? Work first. Should I drop you? It’s already eleven.’
‘I will take an auto or a cab. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. And . . .’ she took his face in her hands
and, kissing his nose, said, ‘I will make up for this real soon.’
‘You better! And be safe. Call if need be,’ Danny said. Only a woman knows how much a man’s
concern can turn her on, she thought.
‘I will,’ she said, kissing the tip of his nose with a smile.
Soon Rivanah was in a cab heading towards the Goregaon police station. The traffic had eased out
in the last hour. As her cab took a left turn from Mega Mall, a biker joined them from behind. The
biker had his head covered with a helmet just like Ekansh had a day before.
What the fuck! Rivanah thought. When will this guy understand we are done with each other? She
asked the driver to stop the cab. The driver slowed down first and then halted the cab on the left.
Rivanah got down immediately and turned to see the biker had stopped right behind the cab.
‘What’s wrong with you, Ekansh?’ In the calmness of the night, it sounded like a shout even though
it wasn’t quite.
The biker rode the bike to reach her.
‘What? Will you explain this?’ she said, first shrugging and then putting both her hands on her hips.
‘You are going to have it from me if you tell me you lied about the lock-up thing.’ The biker didn’t
move except for stretching his right hand towards her. His fist was closed. She noticed the biker was
wearing gloves. A familiar smell reached her—It’s Different, Hugo Boss. Rivanah’s heartbeats
slowed down. His fist opened and . . . Is he going to slash my throat? Rivanah thought and felt her
knees lose strength by the second. The hand caressed her cheeks. She saw something drop to the
ground. She looked down. It was a white piece of cloth. Before she could lift her head, she heard the
biker speed away. There was no way to note down the number on the plate. It was only seconds after
the biker left that Rivanah regained her composure and picked up the white cloth. In black embroidery
it read:
People use love to justify their dishonesty. You ONLY have two more days to confess, Mini.
 13

‘Madam, chalna hai ki nahi?’ the cab driver asked, realizing Rivanah was standing like a fool even
after the rider had long gone.
Rivanah nodded and got into the cab again. Was it Argho? Is he really going to tell Danny the
truth if I don’t confess in two days? Rivanah kept wondering as the cab drove to the Goregaon police
station. Standing outside the station entrance, for a moment Rivanah didn’t know why she was there.
Her phone buzzed with Danny’s call. She picked it up on an impulse.
‘Did you reach office?’ Danny asked.
‘No,’ Rivanah blurted.
‘What? It’s been half an hour. Didn’t you get a cab or what?’
It was then that she remembered the lie she had cooked up and made up an excuse for her slip up, ‘I
meant I’m about to enter the office building.’
‘Oh, okay. Call me once you leave. I’m not sleeping until you are back.’
‘Sure.’
Rivanah cut the call, paid the cab driver and then got out of the cab. She went straight inside the
police station.
There were two vest-clad constables sitting and laughing outside a lock-up. The old man inside the
lock-up, a convict by the looks of it, too was laughing with the constables. There was no sign of
Ekansh. Rivanah went to the inspector sitting with his legs on the table and flipping through a foreign
issue of Maxim. Rivanah coughed to get the inspector’s attention. He looked up at her, startled. He
kept the magazine aside and withdrew his legs from the table, shooting an inquiring look at Rivanah.
‘I’m here to meet Ekansh Tripathi,’ Rivanah said. The inspector’s reply was blocked out by the
beep of a WhatsApp message on her phone. It was from Ekansh:
Thank you.
‘Please excuse me,’ Rivanah told the inspector and called up Ekansh.
‘Hey, nice to get your call,’ Ekansh said picking up the phone.
‘Where the hell are you?’
‘I’m on my way home. Why?’
‘Who bailed you out?’ Rivanah asked. By then she had already started walking away from the
inspector and towards the entrance. The inspector kept staring at Rivanah cluelessly.
‘You sent a lawyer and bailed me out ten minutes ago.’
‘What?’
‘Why are you sounding so surprised?’
 ‘Did you tell anyone about the incident except me?’
‘No. Why would I?’
Only one person could have known where Ekansh was.
‘Is something up?’ Ekansh asked.
The inspector saw Rivanah step out of the police station. He was too lazy to ask her why she was
there in the first place. He picked up the magazine again.
‘No, nothing,’ Rivanah said and continued, ‘Ekansh, I want you to listen carefully to what I’m about
to say next.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘I want you to delete my number after I disconnect this call. Whatever we shared—good, bad, ugly
—it is all in the past and we should put it behind us and move on. Do you get what I’m trying to tell
you?’
‘Hmm. You don’t want us to be in touch any more.’
‘Precisely.’
‘But I need you, Rivanah.’
Rivanah rolled her eyes and continued, ‘Please don’t say things like that. When you had me, you
never needed me. Now when you can’t have me, you shouldn’t need me.’
‘But—’
‘Ekansh, this is for our own good. I expect you to understand this and ask no further questions. Stay
good.’
‘So this is it? We become strangers?’
The last word sent a shiver down Rivanah’s spine. What if the Stranger was watching her?
‘Yes, this is it. We don’t become strangers. We simply stop believing the fact that we are not an
option for each other any more.’
There was silence at the other end.
‘Goodbye, Ekansh. Take care,’ Rivanah said, expecting a reply but he said nothing. She
disconnected the line. A few seconds later, she deleted Ekansh’s number as well as his chat messages
from her phone. She looked around for a cab but couldn’t find any. She opened her phone and tapped
on the Ola app. There was a cab available within 5 minutes. While booking the cab, she heard
something and looked up. At a distance, there was a bike with its headlights on. The rider was
intentionally accelerating the bike to draw attention. In the darkness, she couldn’t tell who it was and
yet she knew it could only be one person. Her phone rang with an unknown number. She swallowed a
lump and put the phone against her ears.
‘Hello, Mini,’ said a man’s voice.
‘What do you want?’ Rivanah’s voice was shivering.
‘I want you to know your own worth, Mini.’
‘That’s what you have been telling me for a long time now. I want a different answer. And a correct
one.’
There was silence. Rivanah was looking straight at the biker and knew the person would have his
eyes on her.
 ‘So, you won’t answer?’ she asked.
‘So, you won’t confess?’ the Stranger shot back.
Rivanah became quiet for few seconds and then said, ‘I will confess, but I want something in
return. You can’t always push me to do anything you want.’ Though Rivanah was putting forth a
condition, she couldn’t sound confident about it.
‘What is it?’
‘I want to see you. As in, I want to see your face.’
There was silence at the other end.
‘The moment you reveal your identity to me, I shall confess to Danny,’ Rivanah said, knowing it
was akin to Hobson’s choice for the Stranger, so even though he was being given the freedom to make
a free choice, only one option was actually being offered. There was no way the person on the bike
was going to reveal his identity to her. Finally she had trapped the Stranger in some sort of dilemma.
Her face broke into a sly smile.
‘I shall meet you, Mini.’
The smile disappeared from Rivanah’s face.
‘You mean you are going to reveal your identity?’
‘I shall reveal my identity to you.’
Rivanah swallowed hard and said, ‘Now?’
‘Soon. You will know when I do.’
‘But no tricks. No masks. No nothing.’
‘Promise. No tricks. No masks. No nothing,’ the Stranger said.
‘I’ll wait,’ Rivanah said and noticed her Ola cab had come up. The biker switched the headlight off
and allowed the darkness to absorb him.
Rivanah got into the cab and was on her way to her flat.
‘Bhaiya, AC on kar dijiye please,’ she told the driver wiping the sweat off her brow.
‘Madam, AC on hai,’ the driver said.
And yet she was sweating profusely. She took out the wet, fragranced tissue from her purse and
rubbed her face and nape with it. She kept looking behind to see if the Stranger was following her, but
could spot no one. Something struck her. She took her phone and dialled Sadhu Ram’s number. He
picked up the phone and sounded groggy.
‘Yes, madam.’
‘What is Argho doing now?’
‘He came back to his flat two hours back. I’m sitting right outside his apartment gate.’
‘Oh okay, thank you,’ Rivanah said and cut the line. Argho can’t be the Stranger then, she thought.
What she and Sadhu Ram didn’t know was that Argho’s bike was missing from the apartment’s garage
that moment.
 14

There was an unusual buzz in Rivanah’s office. Everyone, especially her own team members, looked
happy and energetic. Rivanah soon found out that one of their important clients was happy with the
software that her team had developed and had hence thrown a party for all of them after office hours.
The news, however, didn’t excite Rivanah much. She would have skipped the party if she had a
choice. The moment she sat on the chair in her cubicle, her eyes fell on a pamphlet placed at her desk.
It read: Self-defence classes for women. She looked around and saw the same pamphlet on every
female employee’s desk. Rivanah saved the phone number given on the pamphlet and folded it neatly
before keeping it in her purse. The place was near her residence. She made a mental note of giving it
a shot in a day or two. With the Stranger making his fatal intent clear more than a couple of times,
self-defence may come in handy, she thought.
All through the morning, Rivanah kept checking her phone from time to time, constantly debating
with herself whether the Stranger would actually reveal his identity to her. And if so, where would
they meet? But no message came from the Stranger. It wasn’t only about his revelation this time. There
was a consequence to the revelation as well. If the Stranger actually revealed his identity, she would
have to confess the truth to Danny. The fear of the consequence kept convincing her that the Stranger,
as always, wouldn’t reveal himself after all. It was one of those ploys of his to put her on the back
foot. Rivanah was too mentally preoccupied to pry on Argho during office hours until she received a
phone call from Sadhu Ram.
‘Why did you call me last night?’ Sadhu Ram asked.
‘What?’ The question had come out too abruptly for Rivanah to make any sense of it.
‘What made you call me?’
‘I wanted to check if Argho was at home.’
‘Why suddenly?’
‘Someone had followed me on a bike.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this last night?’ asked Sadhu Ram.
‘I would have but you told me Argho was at his flat, so I thought . . . why, what happened?’
‘I’m keeping a track of the kilometres his bike has been driven so that I know if he has driven
without me knowing. Last night when I checked, it read 1203 kilometres, and this morning when he
drove to office it read 1250 kilometres. And he drove straight from his house to the office which is
only twenty kilometres.’
Rivanah was quiet. She knew what Sadhu Ram was hinting at.
‘It means he had taken the bike somewhere last night without my knowledge,’ Sadhu Ram said.
 The obvious interpretation was: Argho was the Stranger. For the first time in the morning, she
pushed her chair back and stood up to have a look at Argho. He was in his cubicle working with his
back to her.
‘Hello? Are you there, madam?’ Sadhu Ram spoke over the phone.
‘Yes, yes, I’m here.’ Rivanah sat down on her chair and continued, ‘What do we do now?’
‘Did you notice anything last night that would prove it was Argho following you on bike?’
Rivanah thought for a moment. She hadn’t seen the biker’s face or even noticed the model of the
bike. In fact, she didn’t know Argho had a bike.
‘I don’t remember much except that the biker’s helmet was black.’
‘Hmm. That’s not much of a help. Please update me immediately if anything happens. Even if you
are remotely suspicious of anything, just let me know.’
‘I sure will.’
The phone call ended. Rivanah once again glanced at Argho, who was still working, and thought: If
this guy is the Stranger, then he needs to be given the best actor award.
Before moving out with her team around 8 p.m. to the Little Door eatery in Andheri West, where
the client party was supposed to take place, Rivanah called Danny up who told her he too would be
late. Rivanah, on one hand, was in no mood to party, but on the other hand, didn’t want to go back to
an empty home so early. Reluctantly she asked Danny to pick her up on his way home post the party. A
part of the pub was cordoned off for the office team. When Rivanah reached there with her teammates
it was rather quiet, but within an hour the place started warming up with people, alcohol and music.
After Rivanah had her third Budweiser, she excused herself to go to the loo.
Just as she was about to pull up her panties after relieving herself, her phone beeped with a
message.
I’m at the party. See you soon.
It was from one of the numbers belonging to the Stranger. Rivanah couldn’t get up from the seat. Is
he really out there in the party? Is he someone I know? Just then she heard a knock on the door.
‘Are you done?’ a female voice asked.
Rivanah quickly pulled up her panties, flushed and moved out. She washed her hands, wiped it dry
and then, taking a deep breath, stepped outside. The music seemed even louder now. Her eyes were
zeroing-in on each and every person in the restaurant. Some were drinking by the bar, some were
sitting on couches in the corners and some dancing on the floor. The disco lights made it impossible
for her to recognize anyone besides her colleagues whose faces she was familiar with. Finally she
located Argho. He was by the bar outside in the open where people were allowed to smoke. Rivanah
immediately called Sadhu Ram.
‘Hello, I just received a message on my phone saying the Stranger is here.’ She was careful nobody
overheard her.
‘Don’t worry, I’m already keeping an eye on anyone who so much as approaches you. Just act as if
all’s well.’
‘Thanks,’ Rivanah said sounding relieved. She turned around to locate Sadhu Ram but couldn’t see
him. She turned to see Argho standing right behind her. She would have spilt his drink had he not
pulled his hand back on time.
‘Oops, sorry,’ she said.
‘Not a problem. Enjoying the party?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. See you around,’ said Argho and went inside. Too casual, Rivanah thought feeling an urge
to keep an eye on him but knew Sadhu Ram was on it anyway. She went up to her teammates and
picked up her beer pint which she had left mid-way before excusing herself to the restroom.
‘Shots time, everyone!’ one of her teammates screamed coming in with a tray full of tequila-shot
pegs, lime and salt. Everyone picked up their pegs except for Rivanah.
‘Don’t tell me you aren’t going to have it?’ asked Rekha, the teammate she was closest to.
‘Not tonight.’
‘Not tonight? Then when? Come on!’
‘Please . . .’
‘If you aren’t drinking, I won’t either.’
‘Don’t be a spoilsport, Rivanah,’ said another teammate.
‘What’s happening?’ It was their US client, Mark Gems. Everyone stood up seeing him.
‘Rivanah says she won’t drink,’ Rekha complained.
‘What?’ Mark sounded almost offended.
‘No I mean, I—’ Rivanah mumbled.
‘What if there’s a prize? 500 dollars to the one who gulps down the maximum shots!’ Mark
announced. There was a collective joyous hoot.
Rivanah was in a fix. She couldn’t say no to her client while she knew she wouldn’t be able to
resist the temptation of the tequila shots if she tasted one. I won’t go for more than two, she promised
herself.
‘All right,’ she said resigning to the situation.
‘That’s the spirit girl!’ Mark said as her teammates lined up in front of the table they had kept the
shots on.
‘On the count of three . . .’ Mark said and continued, ‘1—2—3!’
There were seven of them, including Rivanah, and each one of them picked up their peg, did a
bottoms-up and sucked on the lime dipped in salt. Mark gestured to one of the waiters who readied
another set of shots for them. After each round, the pepping continued and the pressure got to Rivanah.
After a total of seven rounds, only three people were left. One of them was Rivanah. The taste of
tequila diluted her resolve. By the ninth round, only Rivanah and another guy, Sudhir, were left. On
the tenth, Rivanah backed out. Sudhir was declared the winner of 500 dollars by Mark.
‘Now just make sure Sudhir doesn’t take the 500 dollars home. Your drinks are on him,’ Mark said,
winking at the group. Everyone laughed out.
‘Let’s burn the floor now. Come on!’ Mark said and made the entire group hit the dance floor.
Rivanah’s head was already reeling. She thought she was in control but in reality she was high from
the numerous tequila shots she had consumed. Rivanah wanted to simply sit by a chair outside but she
was pulled to the dance floor by Mark.
 The in-house DJ changed the song from a slow one to a fast Punjabi number. Rivanah started
grooving to the beats of the music with her teammates. The tequila shots had invaded her conscience.
The fact that the Stranger could be watching her flew out of her mind. After a long time she was this
drunk. Every problem seemed trivial. Every guilt seemed avoidable. She felt as free as a bird. It was
almost as if the alcohol had turned her into a child once again and everything in life was only a wish
away. Just then her eyes fell on the guy who had saved her twice: once in the elevator, then at the
backstairs. He had also noticed her stealing chocolates from the boardroom. Rivanah was having
trouble recollecting his name. But she was very clear about one thing: she had a huge crush on him.
He was busy chit-chatting with a male colleague by the in-house bar with a drink in his hand. Rivanah
stopped dancing.
‘What are you looking at?’ Rekha screamed in her ears to negate the sound of the music.
‘Who is that guy?’ Rivanah asked her. Rekha followed her gaze and replied, ‘That’s Nivan. VP,
sales.’ Rivanah held her gaze for some time, the way a naughty thought makes you do, and then moved
out of the dance floor. Tipsily, she headed straight towards Nivan.
‘Excuse me,’ she said. Nivan, along with the male colleague, turned to look at her.
‘I wanted to thank you,’ Rivanah said in a tipsy voice.
Nivan exchanged a clueless look with the male he was talking to.
‘What for?’ Nivan asked.
‘You saved me some time back.’
‘OH. KAY,’ Nivan said, by now convinced she was extremely drunk.
‘I’ll get a refill,’ the male sitting beside Nivan said and excused himself.
‘So I really wanted to pay back tonight,’ muttered Rivanah as she tried to stand upright.
‘Really?’ an amused Nivan asked.
‘Yes. By dancing with you. May I?’ Saying so, she pulled Nivan to the dance floor. Once there
looking at him in the eye, she whispered, ‘Thank you.’
Some of the office people had stopped dancing. It was quite a sight after all—Rivanah pulling the
VP, sales, to the floor for a dance. But more than being concerned, it was entertainment for them. As if
by a divine plan the music turned into a raunchy English number. Rivanah turned around, gyrating her
pelvis rather sexually against Nivan. Before Nivan could think of what to do, Rivanah placed his
hands on her waist. Though she was inebriated yet his touch made her labia twitch. Her hips were
almost rubbing on to his pelvis as she wildly grooved to the English number. Nivan leaned forward
and whispered in her ears, ‘I’m overwhelmed with your payback. And I think I don’t deserve more
than this,’ he said with a half-smile.
‘No more?’ Rivanah asked.
‘No more,’ Nivan said. Looking over at her teammate, Rekha, he said, ‘Take care of her.’
‘Sure, sir,’ Rekha replied, going red in the face.
Nivan excused himself to rejoin the male colleague he had left at the bar.
Rekha took Rivanah outside in the open while she kept blabbering ‘I want to pay back Nivan’.
Rekha made her sit by a chair and went to get her a glass of water. Rivanah was finding it difficult to
focus. If she was drunk before hitting the dance floor, she now felt sloshed. She placed her head on
the table in front of her and shut her eyes. She felt like she was levitating in the air. She could hear the
DJ had changed the song inside. She was about to stand up to dance on her own when she heard a
voice.
‘Hello, Mini.’
 15

Rivanah kept staring at the blurry image of the person in front of her. She tried hard to make out the
face, but everything seemed hazy. The voice was of a male, she was sure of that. Even the face
seemed familiar but . . .
‘I’ve been waiting to meet you, Mister Stranger . . .’ she slurred.
‘I’m here, Mini. Right in front of you. Revealing myself as promised,’ the Stranger said.
‘But . . . but . . .’ She stretched her hand to touch him. She wanted to convince herself it was all
real. Her fingertips traced his forehead to his nose to his lips to his chin.
‘Who are you?’ she asked.
‘Who are you, Mini?’ he asked back.
‘I’m Rivanah Bannerjee.’
‘That’s only a name, Mini. And names don’t define people.’
Rivanah kept looking at the blurry image of the Stranger, wishing she had not drunk so much,
wishing she could hug the Stranger and explain that making out with Ekansh was a slip on her part,
that she isn’t a bad girl, after all, even if she isn’t ready to confess anything to Danny yet.
‘Do you love me?’ she asked. She had no idea why she had asked him that question.
‘Love? Does any one of us even know what love is? We all try to understand it. And the point
where we think we have understood it is also the point where we let go of the chance to understand it
completely.’
‘I love Danny,’ she said.
‘I’m sure you do.’
‘I don’t want to confess.’
‘You’ll have to.’
‘Why?’
‘I told you something in the very beginning, Mini. Do you remember it?’
‘What?’
‘Know. Your. Worth.’
‘Will I ever know my worth?’
‘I wouldn’t have wasted my time otherwise.’
Rivanah wanted to reach out for his hand but she frowned, hearing someone shout out her name.
‘Rivanah!’ It was Smita, another colleague of hers. Rivanah turned around.
‘You burnt the dance floor, yaar,’ Smita said. Rivanah turned back to look at the Stranger.
 ‘Done partying?’ She felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned around and saw it was Danny.
There was no sight of the Stranger.
‘Huh?’ Rivanah wasn’t ready for Danny. What is he doing here?
‘Hi, I’m Danny. Rivanah’s boyfriend.’
‘I’m Smita. Her colleague.’
‘Good to meet you, Smita. Is the party over? May I take Rivanah home?’
‘Yeah sure. We are wrapping up right now.’
‘But I want to stay and talk to him,’ a sloshed Rivanah blabbered. Danny and Smita exchanged a
clueless glance.
‘Talk to whom?’ Danny asked.
‘Nobody,’ Rivanah said. Danny understood how much under the influence of alcohol she was. He
helped her into the car and drove straight home.
Next morning, she woke up remembering nothing. The memory of the Stranger coming and talking
to her by the bar in the open seemed so distant that she wasn’t sure if it was a memory or a wishful
thought. When she checked her phone, it had seven missed calls from Sadhu Ram. She looked around
for Danny. Before she could locate him, his phone buzzed. It was Sadhu Ram.
‘Hello, where are you guys? I have been calling all day.’
‘We were sleeping. What happened?’
‘I regained consciousness only an hour back. Are you safe?’ Sadhu Ram sounded genuinely
concerned.
‘Yeah, I’m all right. But what do you mean you regained consciousness?’
‘I was knocked out last night.’
‘Knocked out?’
‘I had gone to the washroom while the party was on, after which I don’t remember anything. The
Little Door guys took me home.’
Shit!
‘When I woke up, I was sure something must have happened to you.’
Rivanah was lost in a trance.
‘Hello? You there?’
‘Yes, I’m here. Where was Argho at the time?’
‘He had already moved out of the party. I have already checked. He stayed with a friend in Bandra
after he left the party. He has a strong alibi.’
‘Does that mean he isn’t the—?’
‘That’s what it seems like as of now. I think it is someone who is very close to you . . .’
Just then Danny came out of the bathroom in his boxers.
‘Nothing like a cold shower,’ he said and noticed Rivanah holding his phone to her ear.
‘Whose call is it?’ he asked.
Someone close to you, she thought, and vaguely remembered how Danny had suddenly appeared in
front of her at the party.
‘Sadhu Ram,’ she blurted.
 Danny took the phone from her and talked to Sadhu Ram. He recounted the same story to him.
Danny hurled his phone on the bed after disconnecting the call and looked at her.
‘Did anything happen last night at the Little Door?’
I was talking to the Stranger and then I saw you in his place, Rivanah wondered and said aloud,
‘No. I don’t remember anything strange.’
‘Can you tell me what time I reached the party?’ Danny asked in an interrogative tone.
Rivanah said she wouldn’t know.
‘I thought so. Even if something had happened, you wouldn’t be able to tell.’
Rivanah kept staring at Danny as he wore his tee.
‘When did you come last night?’ she asked. Danny paused for a trice and said, ‘I don’t remember
the exact time. Should be around 12.30. Why?’
‘Just like that.’
‘I haven’t seen you so sloshed before.’
Rivanah hung her face in utter disappointment. She knew she shouldn’t have drunk so much. Damn
the client, damn those tequila shots and damn her teammates. And, above all, damn her own self.
She remembered nothing concrete. Not even whether the Stranger had approached her or not. If he had
not, then all was fine. But if he had, then she knew what was coming next. She had to respect her part
of the deal. She hadn’t received any message from the Stranger yet. Rivanah got ready and left for
work, hoping against hope that there was more time.
‘You were amazing last night,’ Smita said. Rivanah immediately threw a what-are-you-talking-
about glance at her. Smita took out her phone and showed her a video of Rivanah gyrating her hips
against Nivan. She might have enjoyed it the previous night but in the morning it looked plain vulgar
to her.
‘No, I didn’t do that!’ she said, feeling flabbergasted to say the least. She took the phone in her
hand and watched the entire clip. By the time the video ended, her expression had changed to one of
utter embarrassment. What would Nivan think of me? A cheap despo! Rivanah immediately deleted
the clip.
‘Arrey, why did you delete it?’ said Smita, snatching the phone back.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Rivanah shot back. ‘Did I do anything else?’
‘Well, after you went and pulled Nivan to the dance floor and danced like crazy with him, I don’t
think there was much left to do. And it’s good you didn’t. Your boyfriend was there shortly after.’
‘You met Danny?’
‘Yes. You are lucky to have such a caring boyfriend.’
‘Thanks.’ I indeed am, Rivanah thought. But first things first.
‘Did you say his name was Nivan?’ When he had told her his name for the first time, she hadn’t
registered it, but she was too tongue-tied to ask him again.
‘Uh?’
‘The guy I danced with last night.’
‘Yes. Nivan; VP, sales.’
Oh god! This gets worse. I had a sexy dance with my VP with no memory of it.
 ‘I need to apologize to him.’
‘Well, even I think you should, though he didn’t look too offended. Still, you never know.’
Rivanah knew where the Sales head’s cabin was. She just didn’t know who occupied the cabin
until today. She excused herself and went straight to the cabin. With every step forward, she felt her
heart beating faster. The man inside the cabin wasn’t just her senior at work. He was someone on
whom she had had a secret schoolgirlish crush.
‘Hi sir, I’m sorry for last night. I wasn’t in my senses and . . .’ Rivanah kept mumbling the apology
to herself softly while preparing herself to knock on the door. The moment she knocked, she heard a
voice very close to her ears.
‘You dance really well.’
Rivanah turned around and saw Nivan standing very closely behind her. Nivan took a step back and
she wondered why. She wasn’t complaining about the closeness. The thought made her feel guilty but
the pleasure in the guilt made her go red in the face.
‘Thank you,’ she mumbled.
‘You’re welcome. Please excuse me,’ Nivan said. Rivanah moved so he could enter his cabin but
the moment he tried to step inside, she stopped him by his arm. He looked back at her. She let go of
his hand immediately.
‘I’m sorry for this. And for last night,’ she said.
‘Last night?’
Does he really not remember or is he intentionally pushing it? ‘I’m sorry to have pulled you to
the dance floor and . . .’
‘That’s fine. You were drunk. I got that.’
Rivanah smiled at him saying, ‘Thanks.’
Nivan went inside his cabin while Rivanah traipsed towards her cubicle like a little girl who had
spoken to her crush for the first time. She hoped her apology was enough to take care of the
embarrassment she had caused herself and probably him too. She casually checked her phone which
displayed a couple of WhatsApp messages from Danny and a message from one of the Stranger’s
number. She checked the time. It had come a minute back. She stopped dead in her tracks.
I kept my promise, Mini. I was right there in front of you last night. We had a little chit-chat too.
Now it’s your turn.
Rivanah missed a heartbeat. He must be lying. He couldn’t have possibly revealed himself to her
when she wasn’t in her senses. Or was it all planned? Or was it all a . . .
You are bluffing. She messaged back.
LOL was the response.
Rivanah stared at the message for some time and then typed back:
What was the colour of my dress last night? She waited impatiently for a response.
He replied: Pink.
But she was wearing a purple dress . . . Rivanah paused. Her undergarments were pink. Rivanah
swallowed hard.
How do you know that? she messaged.
 Why do you always forget that I have my ways, Mini?
Did the Stranger really come in front of her?
‘Shit!’ she blurted out.
‘Any problem?’ It was Argho. Rivanah was quick to realize she was blocking his way. She shook
her head and moved aside to let him pass. And she kept looking at him. When will she know for sure
if Argho was the Stranger or not?
Rivanah went back to her cubicle and was about to call Danny and ask him not to believe in any
message or call unless it was actually from her. Chances were the Stranger may manipulate Danny the
way he did by messaging about her presence in Ekansh’s flat the other night. Just then, her desk phone
rang. It was from the security guard, informing her that there was a parcel in her name.
‘I’m coming,’ Rivanah said, put the receiver down and went to the security post.
A large parcel was waiting for her. She took it after signing in the register and then tore it open. It
was a white, one-piece dress in floral print. A sudden smile appeared on her face, the kind that
happens when you aren’t prepared for something but really like it when it happens. Her phone
vibrated with a message:
I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in this dress.
Rivanah couldn’t believe the Stranger had gifted her that dress. She had known the Stranger for a
good while but he still didn’t stop surprising her. Admiring the dress, she started walking towards her
cubicle when she messaged back: Thank you. But why this gift?
You should look beautiful when you confess an ugly truth to Danny.
Rivanah paused reading the Stranger’s message. Another message popped up precisely then:
Don’t disappoint me, Mini.
There was nothing she could think of except: Why this dress in particular? Why the dramatics?
The dress is bugged, Mini. I want to hear you confess. The message popped in her phone as if the
Stranger had read her mind.
Coming in front of me when I was sloshed wasn’t part of the deal. You have cheated me. She
messaged back sitting on her chair in her cubicle feeling a restlessness brewing in her.
The deal was that I would come in front of you. Then you would confess. I didn’t ask you to
drink. My part of the deal is done, Mini. It is time for you to comply.
Rivanah read and re-read the message. No, she can’t simply comply, she kept telling herself. A
message popped up after some time.
9 p.m. tonight, Bungalow 9, Bandra. I’ve booked a table for Danny and you.
After Rivanah read the message for the third time, she smiled. It wasn’t the end of road for her after
all, she thought. She had a plan to catch the Stranger.
She called Danny and told him that she had booked a table for them at Bungalow 9. Danny
promised her he would be there directly from work. Next, Rivanah called Sadhu Ram and noted
down his email, immediately after which she created a new email address for herself. She couldn’t
trust anything or any medium any more. She wrote Sadhu Ram an email where she mentioned all the
details—from her dress being bugged to the venue and time Danny and she were supposed to meet.
She also wanted to clear her doubts regarding a bugged dress. How far should a person be if he
wanted to hear a conversation?
Sadhu Ram confirmed that chances were the person would either be inside or just around the
restaurant. Rivanah asked him to stay away from the scene in case the Stranger already knew who he
was. After sending the last mail to him she sat back in her chair waiting for the clock to strike 9. She
stared at the floral dress she had placed on her table.
‘That’s a lovely one!’ Rekha said, seeing the dress. ‘Where did you order it from?’
‘It’s a gift,’ Rivanah said with a tight smile. A few seconds later she picked up the dress and tried
to feel it. She felt the microphone placed inside the cloth around the shoulder. The Stranger had taken
the trouble to not only buy the dress but stitch the microphone inside. Rivanah sighed. Tonight she
would finally know who the Stranger was.
 16

Rivanah reached Bungalow 9 before Danny. She had changed into the floral dress in her office
itself. She was escorted by one of the restaurant managers to the table reserved. She looked around to
see if she could locate any familiar face but found none. Rivanah settled down and ordered a beer to
calm her nerves. She kept checking her phone with every sip. Around 9.15 p.m., Danny was escorted
inside by the same manager. As he came to the table, Rivanah stood up. They hugged, pecked each
other on the cheek and took their seats.
‘You look lovely,’ Danny complimented.
‘Thank you.’
‘Why don’t I remember you buying this dress?’
‘That’s because I bought it today itself. I wanted to literally look like your better half.’
‘You look way better, my better half,’ Danny said and leaned forward to kiss her cheek again.
A waiter came and placed the beverage menu on the table along with the food menu. Danny took the
former while Rivanah picked up the latter.
‘I want some red wine,’ Danny said and looked at Rivanah inquiringly.
‘I’m done drinking for the night,’ she said sipping the last bit of beer from her pint. She couldn’t
afford to get drunk tonight.
‘You suddenly sound so health conscious,’ Danny said and added, ‘Remember how you used to go
to the gym once?’
‘Yes,’ Rivanah said. The time when the two had connected for the first time seemed long time ago.
‘I never went there to get a good figure,’ she said with a naughty amusement on her face.
‘Is it? Then what for?’ Danny responded with the same naughtiness in her tone.
‘I wanted to set my life right,’ she said and blew him a kiss.
Rivanah helped Danny choose his red wine while she zeroed-in on a sushi platter.
Danny picked up his glass of red wine and gestured at her. Rivanah knew how Danny would do a
‘cheers’ with her. She smiled naughtily and asked, ‘Here too?’
‘Why not?’ Danny whispered back.
‘Okay,’ Rivanah said. She took a small sip from his glass. He followed suit and they kissed letting
the liquid merge.
‘Cheers!’ Danny said, breaking the kiss and gulping down the wine she had in her mouth.
‘Cheers!’ Rivanah repeated, conscious of the fact that the Stranger was privy to every word of their
conversation.
 ‘So, why this sudden dinner plan? Any more surprises coming up?’ Danny said gazing into her
eyes. Rivanah’s guilt broke the gaze. She took another sip from his glass even though she had said she
wouldn’t drink.
‘I’m a little worried about something.’ She paused seeing Danny’s expectant face. And then
continued, ‘There’s a friend of mine . . .’ she said, with her throat drying up every second, ‘who loves
her boyfriend a lot. Like, genuinely. But she had a slip.’
‘Slip?’
‘She cheated on him. Just once. Not wilfully, though. It just happened. She didn’t intend to cheat on
him, and in her heart she still loves her boyfriend. Only her boyfriend.’ Rivanah stopped suddenly,
realizing she was justifying this ‘friend’ of hers a little too much.
‘Hmm, and whom did she cheat on him with?’
‘Her roommate’s boyfriend,’ she said, looking at Danny who was lost in thought while sipping his
wine.
‘Actually, the roommate’s boyfriend was an old friend of hers,’ Rivanah corrected herself. Danny
still didn’t respond.
‘I mean the roommate’s boyfriend was this girl’s ex,’ Rivanah finally blurted out. Danny shot a
sharp glance at her as if he had already judged this imaginary friend of hers.
‘If it was her ex, then I’m sure it wasn’t just a slip. Like, if I meet my ex and it ends up in a . . . wait
a minute. Did you mean she simply kissed him when you said she slipped, or did she fuck her ex?’
‘They . . .’ She took yet another sip from Danny’s glass and said, ‘They fucked.’
‘Whoa, then it obviously isn’t a slip. By the way, are you sure you don’t want to have wine?’
Rivanah shook her head and said, ‘Why do you think that?’
‘Because you are drinking all of mine,’ Danny said in a lighter vein.
‘Not that. Why do you think it was not a slip? How are you so sure?’
‘You slip with strangers but you don’t slip with people you already know. Especially your ex.’
Rivanah frowned. It didn’t make sense to her. She probably didn’t want it to make sense. All she
wanted to hear from him was: it was just a slip, why bother? And since it didn’t come the way she
desired from Danny, Rivanah felt all the more frustrated.
‘Anyway, what’s up with this friend of yours?’ Danny asked.
‘She is in a fix whether to tell her present boyfriend about it or not.’
‘Hmm. Okay.’
By then, the waiter laid out the sushi platter. But instead of the platter, Rivanah’s eyes were on
Danny. He was about to say something when she cut him short saying, ‘What do you reckon? What
should the girl do? Tell her boyfriend everything?’
‘I don’t know. If it is not important, then she probably shouldn’t,’ he said, gobbling up a sushi.
‘It’s yum—’ but before he could finish his sentence, she shut his lips with a kiss. He had finally
said what she wanted to hear. There was no reason whatsoever for her to confess anything. Danny’s
opinion was, of course, more important and valuable to her than the Stranger’s demand which now
seemed all the more futile. The slip wasn’t important for her so there was no reason why she should
tell Danny about it. Period. She knew this from day one. It was the Stranger who had pushed her to
believe otherwise. She took a bite of the sushi wondering if the Stranger had heard Danny’s point of
view. But he wouldn’t know she wasn’t going to comply with him. Doesn’t matter what he said, he
hadn’t kept his part of the deal. Coming in front of her when she was in an inebriated state was a
sheer breach. And now he would get in return exactly that—a breach. Danny took out his phone,
stretched his hand and the two of them squeezed together beaming ear to ear for a selfie. Rivanah
grabbed the phone from him to see how the selfie had come out. They looked happy together. No
confession was bigger than the happiness that seemed to emanate from the selfie for her.
‘What are you looking at?’ Danny asked, taking the phone from her. Rivanah simply smiled and
said, ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
The waiter was back. ‘Would you like to order your main course, sir?’ he asked Danny.
‘Certainly.’
‘You order. I’ll be back from the restroom,’ Rivanah said.
‘But what do you want to have?’
‘I chose starters. You choose the main course for us,’ she said with a heart-warming smile and
headed towards the restroom.
In the restroom, Rivanah received a call from Sadhu Ram’s number.
‘Where are you?’ Rivanah said the moment she picked up the call.
‘Hello, Mini.’
Rivanah almost bit her own tongue.
‘The first thing you will do after you step out of the restroom is confess,’ the Stranger said.
‘No, I won’t. Didn’t you hear? It is not important for Danny.’
‘It is important for you, Mini.’
‘No, it is not. Who are you to decide what’s important for me and what’s not?’ Rivanah was
surprised at the way she was talking to the Stranger. But this is what is needed, she told herself. This
person was responsible for the life-threatening incidents in her life only weeks back, but she couldn’t
take it all lying down. A couple of seconds later she heard the line cut. She looked at her phone
expecting another call but all that came was Danny’s WhatsApp stating he was getting bored. Rivanah
quickly stepped out. She was about to join Danny at the table when five men barged into the
restaurant. She identified one of them. It was Sadhu Ram. She looked at the others. Probably his men,
she thought, until she looked at the one who was right in front of Sadhu Ram. She knew this man too. It
was Argho Chowdhury.
‘We caught him red-handed with an ear piece,’ Sadhu Ram said with a victorious smile.
 17

Rivanah, Danny, Sadhu Ram along with his men and Argho were at the Bandra police station. The
way the entire thing had played out reminded Rivanah of Abhiraj and how he was caught at Starbucks
some time back. The difference being previously it wasn’t the Stranger who was caught.
‘So, it’s all very simple: confess everything, or else we will do things our way,’ Sadhu Ram said,
oddly relaxed.
‘Confess what?’ Argho shouted. ‘I don’t know why I’ve been brought here! Rivanah, what nonsense
is going on?’
‘Talk to me, not to the girl,’ said Sadhu Ram, holding Argho’s chin up. He was handcuffed and
made to sit on a chair in the middle of a cell, while Rivanah, Danny and the inspector in charge of the
police station were standing in a circle around him.
‘What were you doing at Bungalow 9?’
‘I had a date.’
‘With whom? Where’s the girl?’ Sadhu Ram took Argho’s phone from his subordinate. They had
confiscated it from him at the restaurant.
Argho looked at Sadhu Ram and said uncomfortably, ‘I don’t know her.’
Sadhu Ram smirked as if he was expecting it. ‘That, I believe. You won’t know her because there
was no date. I have been following you for a week now, but haven’t seen you with any girl.’
‘You have been following me? For what?’
‘Forget that and answer me first. Who is this girl you just mentioned?’
‘We connected on Tinder,’ Argho said. He was speaking softly now.
‘Tinder? I know Tardeo but where is Tinder?’ Sadhu Ram said, looking at his subordinates for
clues.
‘It is a dating app,’ Rivanah spoke up. ‘It is an app that you can download for free in your phone.
You have to sign in through your Facebook account, after which you can find a match with prospective
people.’
‘I have to check your phone. What’s the password?’ Sadhu Ram gave the phone to Argho after
unlocking the handcuffs. He made a pattern on the screen to unlock it. Sadhu Ram took the phone away
and went to Rivanah. She tapped on it few times and opened Tinder. There were five matches.
‘Which one?’ Sadhu Ram asked Argho.
‘Kanika Negi.’
‘Does the name ring a bell?’ Sadhu Ram asked Rivanah. Negative.
 Sadhu Ram scrolled down and, along with Rivanah, read through the messages on the Tinder chat
screen. There had been around fifty messages exchanged between Argho and Kanika. It was evident
they didn’t know each other and had casually decided to meet up at Bungalow 9 that night. That
couldn’t have been a coincidence; Rivanah was sure of it. The moment they reached the first message
—a ‘Hi’ from Argho—a new message popped up right at that instant. Both Sadhu Ram and Rivanah
read it and looked at each other with fright. The message read:
Argho is innocent. Mini is not.
The next instant, Kanika unmatched Argho from Tinder. And her profile wasn’t live any more.
‘Who is Mini?’ Sadhu Ram asked.
‘I am,’ Rivanah said, her throat going dry.
‘You are Mini?’
‘It’s her nickname,’ Danny butted in.
It was clear now that Argho wasn’t the Stranger. Or at least he wasn’t alone in this.
‘Why did the message say you are the culprit?’ Sadhu Ram looked at Rivanah.
‘I . . .’ She glanced at Danny and said, ‘I have no idea.’
‘Hmm.’ Sadhu Ram turned towards Argho and said, ‘What about the difference in the kilometre
reading on your bike?’
‘What difference? I only use my bike sometimes, not every day.’
‘I know you don’t use it every day but—’
Sadhu Ram told him about how he had found there was a difference in the kilometre reading on his
bike that particular day. As the two argued over the matter, Rivanah understood once and for all:
Argho wasn’t the Stranger. He was a pawn in an elaborate game. Just like she was. She couldn’t help
but feel astounded at how elaborate the game really was!
‘What about the ear piece?’ Sadhu Ram asked. Rivanah could tell even Sadhu Ram sounded
frustrated now.
‘That’s my ear piece. Kanika asked me to put it on as a mark of identification.’
Argho took the phone from Rivanah and showed them the message where Kanika had written: Put
on an ear piece. I’ll recognize you with it. The same Kanika whose profile had been deactivated
now.
‘Madarchod!’ Sadhu Ram shouted, stamping his foot on the ground. He simply couldn’t take it that
twice the Stranger had made a complete fool out of him. He apologized to Rivanah for the curse. Half
an hour later, Sadhu Ram and the inspector on duty let Rivanah and Danny go. Argho was also
allowed to leave as it was evident he was being set up.
‘But you may have to come up to the station if summoned,’ the inspector on duty said.
‘Sure. I’m not guilty of anything, so why wouldn’t I cooperate?’ Argho said taking his phone from
Sadhu Ram.
Outside, Rivanah and Danny were waiting for Argho. As he appeared, Rivanah apologized to him.
‘As you already know there has been some confusion. I’m really sorry for this,’ she said.
‘I didn’t know you had a police guy behind me! What is this all about?’
 Rivanah felt pushed to tell him about his cousin Hiya’s connection but held herself back at the last
moment. By now it had become a long story. Too long indeed, she thought and said, ‘Honestly Argho,
even I’m yet to figure it out.’
‘I completely fail to understand how I can be roped into something this serious about which I have
no clue!’
Rivanah shot an embarrassing look at Danny so he could bail her out of the situation. He
understood.
‘We are sorry, Argho. It’s just that even we have been misled. I hope you understand. Rivanah’s
intention wasn’t to malign you in any way. It was all a misunderstanding. There’s a stalker who is
creating trouble. Probably the same person who connected with you via Tinder—Kanika Negi.’
Argho stood there looking around as if he still needed to be convinced.
‘If the person wanted to frame me, then why would he or she message saying I’m innocent?’ Argho
argued.
Rivanah wanted to speak but didn’t. It wasn’t about Argho, she knew. It was about her. Only she
knew the subtext of the last message from ‘Kanika Negi’. Argho was just a tool to mislead her, corner
her and make her do things which the Stranger wanted.
‘I hope it gets sorted out for you fast,’ Argho said looking at Rivanah. ‘Whatever it is.’
‘I hope so too.’
Argho took a cab and left. Danny climbed into his car. Rivanah excused herself and, taking a
couple of steps away from the car, called her father.
‘Baba, did Inspector Rajat Das get in touch with you?’
‘No, what happened?’
‘Nothing. I think we should take the complaint against Argho back.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘I am, Baba. Please take the complaint back.’
‘Hmm. But if not Argho then who attacked you?’
‘I don’t know. Let them find the person if they can. But it wasn’t Argho.’
‘Okay, I will talk to Rajat.’
Rivanah talked to her mother for a minute and then joined Danny in the car. After a short distance,
Danny stopped the car at a street corner.
‘What happened?’ Rivanah asked. She had just put on some music to distract herself. Danny
switched it off. Their eyes met.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Danny asked. There was a sudden harshness in his tone. She knew why.
‘I was about to Danny.’
‘About to? When? I thought you’d planned the dinner for me. For us. I thought you had dressed up
for me. But—surprise, surprise—it wasn’t!’ He now sounded cross. And rightly so, Rivanah thought.
‘The dress, the look, it was all for you, Danny.’
‘Shut up. Even the dress was bugged. You knew it. I didn’t. Why?’
‘It was just . . . just . . .’ Rivanah couldn’t think of anything to say. And with that, she knew she had
given Danny enough reason to raise a finger at her. And at her love towards him.
 ‘That’s because you don’t trust me.’
‘It is nothing like that. Sadhu Ram asked me not to involve anybody.’
‘Anybody? Okay, so after being in a relationship for more than a year now, I’m anybody to you.
Great!’ Danny started the engine and put the car on gear.
‘I’m sorry, Danny.’
‘Don’t I-am-sorry me.’
Rivanah saw that Danny felt the same disgust she had felt every time Ekansh said sorry to her.
‘I genuinely—’
‘Rivanah, I will tell you this once.’ Danny cut her short, glancing intently at her and continued, ‘I
don’t like the fact that you hide things from me. If there’s anything, just let me know. Share it with me.
Anything at all, okay?’
Rivanah had to clear her throat mildly before nodding. When they reached their apartment, Danny
climbed out of the car saying, ‘Please lock the car before coming. You always seem to forget.’ He
was gone before she could say anything.
In the silence of the garage, Rivanah could feel the sting of Danny’s words. Everything in her life
was an irony. The one she loved first—Ekansh—had ditched her, the one who loved her next—Danny
—was being kept in the dark by her. She reclined the car seat and shut her eyes, desperately wishing
everything to be okay when she suddenly opened her eyes again. Hello, Mini. The entire car echoed
with the two words. In a flash, she turned back and saw a small phone placed on the back seat. It had
been connected to the car’s Bluetooth. The Stranger had heard her entire conversation with Danny
before he got out of the car. She quickly took the phone in her hand.
‘You just awarded yourself a storm, Mini. Be ready now.’
Rivanah shut her lips so tight with fear that they turned white. Swallowing a lump, she said, ‘No
please, we can negotiate this, right?’
‘I’m not in the mood to negotiate any more, Mini.’ The line went dead. Rivanah saw a bike vroom
past right in front of her car and out of the garage. She could neither see the number plate, nor the
model, though she knew who it was. The one she knew nothing about.
 18

That night, Rivanah tried her best to win Danny over, but he wouldn’t warm up to her touches or her
deliberate conversation-initiating queries. She knew she should have shared everything with him but
it had all happened so quickly that she had decided to tell him later. She had been confident that he
would be all ears. She wasn’t expecting this cold shoulder. The way he reacted told her how less we
know our partners. Living with them day in and day out, we create our own biased versions of them
and start projecting our interpretations of the person on to their personality—which more often than
not is far from reality. Like she would never know if Danny and Nitya had ever been close or not.
Like Danny still didn’t know Rivanah had things hidden from him. Rivanah wanted to discuss this
with someone, but she was sure it couldn’t be the Stranger. He may have shown her glimpses of his
good soul, but overall he was a sadist, Rivanah concluded. But then . . . who else could she talk to?
While going to the office the next day, Rivanah tapped ten digits on her phone and then pressed on
the call button. She had deleted Ekansh’s number but she remembered it by heart.
‘Hi Rivanah. I knew you would call,’ Ekansh said, picking up the call almost immediately. Does he
really mean what he said? He knew? Does Ekansh know me more than Danny does? Rivanah
brushed aside these thoughts and said, ‘Ekansh, I want to ask you something. But promise me that you
will answer to the point.’
‘I promise,’ he said after a pause.
‘If Tista was alive, would you have told her about what happened between us that evening?’
‘Look, Rivanah, we have . . .’
‘Just answer the question, Ekansh,’ Rivanah said and added softly, ‘Please . . .’
She could hear him breathing.
‘No, I wouldn’t have told her.’
Rivanah sighed. She needed this reassurance to validate what she was doing with Danny. She told
herself that anyone in love would have done the same thing. Sometimes, lies are the only way to keep
a relationship running like a well-oiled machine.
‘Thanks,’ she said and hung up before Ekansh could say anything else. She thought he would call
her back but he didn’t. He probably knew, Rivanah wondered, that she would herself call him when
needed—the way she did minutes ago.
In office, there were a few awkward glances exchanged between Rivanah and Argho, but neither
said anything. He was Hiya’s cousin, but till now he had showed no inclination whatsoever in trying
to know if anything had happened between Hiya and Rivanah. He would have told Sadhu Ram during
the interrogation in case he knew something. Or was he too smart for the police? Rivanah tried to
forget the last thought.
For most of the day, Rivanah kept sending emotional messages to Danny but there was no response
from him. In the end, she thought she would resolve it the way most couple fights get resolved: with
time, by doing nothing about it at the moment. But she was in for a surprise. An hour before her work
was about to get over, she got a gift pack from the security. There was no name on it. She tore open
the gift wrap to reveal a small box. She unlocked it and found two pearl earrings along with a note
saying: Game for a fresh start?—D.
She immediately called Danny up. He answered on the third ring.
‘Danny, you dog, I’m going to kill you,’ she said and heard him laugh. ‘Stop laughing. This isn’t
funny. I have been messaging you all day like a moron.’
‘Serves you right,’ Danny said, with a hint of amusement in his voice.
‘Really? Meet me tonight and I’ll show you what suits you!’
‘Is that a promise?’
‘Like hell it is.’
‘I shall be waiting.’
‘You better.’
‘Love you loads.’
‘Love you back. When are you reaching home today?’
‘Latest by eight. And you?’
‘Should be there by nine.’
‘Great.’
Rivanah then Googled ‘best sexual surprises for boyfriend’ on her desktop. A series of links
appeared but just as she was about to open one, a beep on her phone stopped her. It was a WhatsApp
message. The message was in the form of an image. The image was a Google map pinning her office
as ‘Address A’. A blue line from this point led to a point somewhere in Kalyan which was in the
outskirts of Mumbai. The end pin was labelled, to her utter shock, ‘Hiya Chowdhury’. She maximized
the image on her phone. The message was obvious: Hiya, or some link to her, was in Kalyan. And
Kalyan was a good two hours away from where Rivanah was at the moment. She quickly calculated:
she had four hours before she had to reach her flat, just in time for Danny. Or should she go there with
Danny? But what if that irks the Stranger and she misses out on the vital information on Hiya? Once
again it was a catch-22 situation for Rivanah. There was no other friend whom she could request to
follow her secretly, just in case there was danger. Ekansh’s name crossed her mind but she wasn’t
sure. Only a few seconds later, she dialled Danny’s number on an impulse.
‘Hey baby, I’ll be home by nine. Some work has come up. I’ll call you the moment I’m done.’
‘In office itself?’
‘No.’ She swallowed a lump. ‘But somewhere nearby.’ If she said Kalyan, there can’t be any
excuse for her to be there at this hour, she thought. Yet another lie. But this would be the last, she
promised herself.
‘Just call me once around nine,’ she said, sounding pensive.
 ‘Why?’
‘I’ll wrap it up quickly then,’ she said, keeping the real reason from him. Just in case something
happened, someone should have the right doubt at the right time.
‘All right. I’ll call you at nine,’ Danny said.
‘Thanks. Muah. Love you.’
Rivanah took a cab to Andheri railway station, took the metro till Ghatkopar and then a local train
from the central line to reach Kalyan. Exhaustion made her doze off in the train itself. She was woken
up by a fellow passenger when Kalyan—the last station on the line—arrived. Little did she know that
someone was following her.
Once she came out of the rather busy Kalyan railway station, she took a cab without knowing
where to go. She glanced at the image of the map once and told the cab driver she would guide him to
the destination. Half a minute later, the person following her also hailed a cab and asked the driver to
follow hers.
After about twenty five minutes, Rivanah reached the spot marked on the map. From inside the cab
she tried to look out. There was nothing around. She opened the car’s door and stepped out. She had
no idea where she was. She tried to extract her location via Google but realized her mobile Internet
wasn’t working.
‘Madam, rukna hai ya jaun?’ the cab driver popped his head out of the window and asked. She
knew there wasn’t any chance of getting public transport in such a place and—her eyes fell on an
ATM a few metres away. Strangely, the light inside the ATM was flickering.
‘Madam?’ the driver egged on.
Rivanah quickly took out her purse. To her surprise, she was short of the fare. In fact, all she had
was a ten rupee note. She frowned, not remembering how much she was carrying. She told the driver
she would need to take money out of the ATM, realizing this could well be part of the plan. Was the
clue to Hiya inside the ATM? Was the flickering of light a ploy to attract my attention? Did
someone empty my wallet when I dozed off in the train so that I have no option but to use the
ATM?
‘Bhaiya, main ek minute mein aati hun. Paise nikalne hai,’ she told the cab driver, who made a face.
Rivanah proceeded towards the ATM. Another cab had stopped at some distance behind her. The
person following her stepped out of the cab and noticed her going towards the ATM. The person
waited for her to enter the ATM.
Rivanah went close to the ATM entrance and tried to look through the glass door. There was
nobody inside, and the lights were still flickering. She gently pushed the door open, still looking
around, and slowly stepped inside. Why would the Stranger call her to such a place with Hiya marked
on the map? There has to be something to it, she wondered, and glanced at the ATM screen. It was
out of order. She sensed something was wrong. Just like the Planchette idea, this too seemed like a
mistake.
You awarded yourself a storm . . . the Stranger’s words came rushing to her. Shit, shit, shit. Why
the hell did I come here! Rivanah thought, feeling anxious, and immediately turned around to leave.
She paused, hearing her name being called out. It was a male voice. She froze. Was it the Stranger?
But the voice was very familiar.
‘Rivanah!’ the voice called out again. She suddenly felt energy gushing to her feet as she turned
around in a flash to see Ekansh.
‘What are you doing here?’ Rivanah looked to his right where there was a tiny room for the security
guard. He was probably inside the room when she came in.
‘I was waiting for you,’ he said.
‘For me? Why?’ Looking at him, she felt scared like never before. Somehow he didn’t seem like
himself.
‘You said you know how to connect to Tista,’ he blabbered, as if he was under some spell.
‘I did? What nonsense are you talking? How did I communicate with you?’ She almost knew the
answer.
‘Through messages,’ he said confused, and showed her his phone. Rivanah read the messages:
Hi Ekansh, I know of a way of communicating with Tista. Don’t call me or message me back. If
you are interested then just meet me at 7.30 at this address . . .
She didn’t read the rest. It was yet again a case of SIM card duplication. The ease with which the
Stranger duplicated SIM cards told Rivanah how dangerous technology was and how fatal its impact
could be if in wrong hands. It was clear the Stranger was up to some game once again by calling
Ekansh and her at the same spot, but why? She wanted to rush back home, to Danny. Nothing was
going to be revealed to me about Hiya. It is all a joke, a sick joke which the Stranger has been
playing on me since my arrival in Mumbai. Rivanah turned towards the door without saying anything
to Ekansh. He held her hand. She turned to glance at him and said, ‘Leave me, Ekansh, and go home. It
wasn’t me messaging you.’
‘What do you mean?’ His grip turned tighter. She had neither the time nor the intention to clarify
anything.
‘Someone was just messing with you. Chuck it and go.’ It was the best excuse she could come up
with. She again turned around to leave but he pulled her towards him. They came dangerously close,
with Ekansh still gripping her hand while placing the other hand around her waist to hold her tight.
‘What do you think of yourself, Rivanah?’ Ekansh asked. His grip was hurting her as he continued,
‘You can call me anytime, cut the phone line without saying anything, tell Tista about us, call me to a
secluded ATM in the name of Tista, and then say it was all a joke? I won’t allow you to treat me as if
I’m some piece of shit.’ The strength with which he held her not only hurt Rivanah but surprised her
as well.
‘Ekansh, it wasn’t me. It’s someone who is playing with me. Now leave me.’
‘Who is it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Just like you didn’t know who told Tista the truth, right?’
‘Shut up and leave me,’ she said, trying to release herself from his grip.
Just outside the ATM, the person who had been following Rivanah to Kalyan station and then to the
ATM pushed open the door. It was Danny.
 Danny first looked at Rivanah, then at Ekansh, and then the way he was holding her. Ekansh let go
of Rivanah. She was too dumbstruck to speak.
‘I was outside your office when you called me. I kept telling myself that you love me too much to
lie to me. Especially after we had both decided you won’t hide anything from me.’ Danny sighed and
added, ‘I tried to make you as comfortable as I could but still this sluttish behaviour—why? You
could have just told me you are done with me,’ Danny said, looking acutely hurt. It was evident he had
misinterpreted the entire scene. But the word ‘sluttish’ stabbed Rivanah deeply. This name-calling
was the last thing Rivanah expected from Danny.
‘I think I should leave,’ Ekansh mumbled awkwardly. He looked at Rivanah. Whatever anger his
eyes were carrying against her a moment back suddenly changed into sympathy. Neither Rivanah nor
Danny cared to look at him. As Ekansh stepped outside and shut the door, Rivanah asked in an injured
tone, ‘Why would you call me a slut, Danny? That too in front of Ekansh?’
‘I didn’t call you a slut. I just said your behaviour is that of a slut. Ask yourself why I said that. If
you were not a slut, you wouldn’t have lied to me to be here with your ex. God knows how many
more times you guys have been together.’
‘Who said I lied to you? I myself didn’t know Ekansh was supposed to be here.’
‘Yeah sure, like I’m going to believe you,’ Danny said, without caring to look at her as he talked.
‘You have to, because it’s the truth. I came here because I was sent this,’ Rivanah tapped her phone
to show him the Google map image the stranger had sent her. He looked at it and then said, ‘Okay.
Look into my eyes and answer two questions.’
‘Ask me anything.’ Rivanah knew she was going to cry any moment now.
‘Were you with Ekansh as the message claimed the night I came to your office?’
It took her some time but she nodded. Danny swallowed hard.
‘But that’s because . . .’ she started.
‘Don’t explain,’ he said and continued to look straight into her eyes, ‘Is there anything that you think
I should know as far as you and Ekansh are concerned?’
Rivanah looked down.
‘Look at me, goddamnit!’ he shouted.
Rivanah slowly lifted her head up and then nodded.
‘What is it?’
She was crying now as she spoke, ‘I just can’t tell you.’ But she didn’t have to, for Danny knew:
that she and Ekansh were still in a relationship.
‘Is it what I think it is?’
‘I simply can’t tell you about it,’ Rivanah said, feeling shame and humiliation squeeze all the pain
out of her core.
‘So let me rephrase. It wasn’t sluttish behaviour. You are a slut. That’s what it is,’ Danny said in a
concluding tone.
‘Please don’t say that, Danny. I love you.’
‘Shut the fuck up.’
 ‘You just can’t come here, interpret everything wrongly and call me names, Danny. You have to
listen to me. Your inference isn’t the whole story.’
‘I. Don’t. Care. Any more,’ he said, locking his jaws.
Rivanah felt a sudden anger honking hard within her. But she didn’t know what she was angry
about: the fact that she didn’t tell Danny about the matter or the fact that his reaction was exactly how
she thought any man would react. Any man! If this was any man’s reaction, then what did Danny mean
when he said he loved her? Any man would have labelled her a slut misinterpreting the scene or the
truth which she nested within her—but not the one who loved her, for that man would have actually
understood it was indeed a slip and respected the fact that she too had the right to explain. In an ideal
world, that is. If she was a slut, then she would have continued fucking Ekansh, fucking every other
man she came across without feeling guilty about it. But her love for Danny was exactly why she
couldn’t confess to him in the first place. But by saying she was a slut, did Danny think he had washed
his hands off the relationship, off her?
‘So you are saying there’s nothing for me to react to, right?’ Danny said.
‘Right.’ Rivanah said it more out of anger than anything else. She knew he had the right to react but
she had a problem with the way he was reacting—like someone who never knew her.
‘If you really think there’s nothing for me to react, then why don’t you tell me the truth yourself?’
Danny asked.
I don’t mind your reaction, Danny. I just don’t get how you have already decided what my
intention was and given it a name, she thought, but couldn’t say it aloud. Anybody would reach
conclusions about you in no time, but when your closest one too does it, then what’s left to say?
Conclusions are made very swiftly, but to break them one needs time, she thought. And Danny didn’t
seem to be in the mood to give her time.
There was silence as Danny waited for her to speak. She knew whatever she said now would be
twisted by him, turned into an arrow and darted right back at her.
‘You continue to be quiet and still don’t want me to react the way I’m doing. Awesome!’ Danny
said.
As he was about to leave, Rivanah blurted out, ‘Ekansh and I slept with each other some time
back.’
Danny stood frozen for a few seconds and then turned around to look at her. ‘Were we together
then?’
Rivanah nodded like a programmed machine and hung her head in shame. She looked up when she
heard a loud bang. Danny had smashed his hand on the ATM door creating a crack in the glass. She
immediately took his hand in hers to check the extent of the injury.
‘Stay. Away,’ he said pushing her back. His touch had never felt so condescending.
‘Remember how you walked out on me because of Nitya?’ Danny asked, facing away from her. He
then turned around and, looking straight at her, said, ‘I think it is time to walk out again. Just that, this
time, it will be me walking out on you.’
‘Why aren’t you listening to me?’ Her frustration was evident in her tone. ‘It is not what it sounds
like.’
 ‘You just said you fucked your ex when we were in a relationship. To me, it sounds pretty simple.’
‘It just happened, Danny. It. Just. Happened. I have avoided Ekansh since then.’
‘I saw a minute back how much you guys have avoided each other. Meeting in a secluded ATM
after you told me you had some office work? I don’t know what you call it, but for me this is sluttish
behaviour.’
‘Please don’t say that. Had I been a slut, I would have continued to sleep with Ekansh. But I never
did that.’
‘And you think that, after what I saw here and whatever you confessed, I’m going to believe you?
Do you understand, Rivanah, I can’t turn a blind eye to your acts any more?’
Who is this Danny? Rivanah wondered. How can the person I love so dearly behave like a
stranger? One sight of me with Ekansh, and Danny has already judged me? Can one be so blinded
by love?
‘I love you, Danny. Only you. Why aren’t you getting it?’ Rivanah blurted out.
Danny smirked and said, ‘That’s what I thought too. And would have continued to think all my life,
had I not been led to this place.’
‘The one who led you to this place led me here as well,’ she said.
‘That changes nothing.’
Rivanah mentally cursed the Stranger for having stirred this and said aloud, ‘Let’s just go home, sit
down and talk it out. I can explain everything. Then I’m sure you will understand.’
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t be associated with a lying whore,’ Danny said and turned to leave. He knew
the last part was little too much but he didn’t care. If this was too much, then what was that she
confessed? A raging frown appeared on Rivanah’s face. On an impulse, she followed him.
‘You really want to know what a whore is, Danny?’ Rivanah shouted. This was the first time she
had raised her voice this high in front of someone she loved.
‘I’ll show you and then you can walk out on me,’ Rivanah said, her entire body shaking. She saw
Ekansh in the distance, perhaps waiting for a cab. She crossed Danny and called out to Ekansh.
Ekansh was taken aback seeing Rivanah come up to him.
Before Ekansh could speak, Rivanah grabbed him by his collar, pressed her lips against his and
with one hand clicked a picture of them kissing. She broke the kiss the next second and sent the
picture to Danny on WhatsApp. Looking towards Danny, who was still beside the ATM, she shouted,
‘Check your phone, Danny, to know what a real whore is like.’ Rivanah smashed her phone on the
ground. It broke into pieces but it wasn’t the only thing that broke.
‘Rivanah!’ Ekansh called out. She turned and said, ‘Don’t you follow me.’ And walked out of his
sight.
She found a cab at a distance and told the driver to take her to Dahisar.
It was the same area where she had taught Mini’s Magic 10. The destination didn’t matter to her.
All she wanted was to cry alone. It was already dark when she reached the place three hours later.
Looking around, the only lonely spot she could see was the skywalk. She climbed the stairs and took
the empty bench under a light, feeling progressively suicidal. What was left? she asked herself. A big
nothing. How do you build anything from that big nothing and still call it life? Rivanah cried.
 It was over with Ekansh long ago, and now it was over with Danny too. Next time it won’t be
‘falling’ in love for her. From here on, it would be suffering in love. But did she have the energy to
suffer in love again? She wiped her tears and tried to breathe, but her nose was slightly blocked.
Sitting under one of the lamp posts, she thought she heard footsteps coming towards her. She peered
into the darkness but didn’t see anybody. She sighed and was about to bury her face in her hands again
when she heard a voice say, ‘Hello, Mini.’
Rivanah slowly looked up—in anticipation. And fear. And disgust.
 19

For a split second, Rivanah thought she had simply imagined the voice, before she noticed the tips of
someone’s shoes at the edge of the light. The light overhead did not fall on his face, and most of him
was shrouded in darkness, but it didn’t take her long to guess who this someone could be.
‘Is that you?’ Rivanah said aloud. Her voice was brittle.
The response came after few seconds.
‘Yes, Mini.’
Her eyes were transfixed on the shining black tips of the shoes. Rivanah stood up, expecting the
Stranger to take a step back. But he didn’t. Rivanah took a step towards him. He was still. Slowly,
she began inching towards the Stranger. With every step, her heart beat faster. And every beat felt
heavy with anxiety. When she stood close to him, she could smell his deodorant—It’s Different from
Hugo Boss. It is indeed him! But his face and body remained shrouded in darkness. Rivanah took the
final few steps and stood only inches away from the tips of the shoes. Breathing had become difficult.
The fact that the Stranger hadn’t moved told her he wanted her to unmask him. She was about to reach
out when two hands shot out and, before Rivanah could understand what was happening, she was
turned around forcefully and blindfolded. Rivanah felt him tightening the blindfold. Slowly, the
Stranger pulled her into the darkness, away from the sight of any pedestrian.
‘I . . .’ Rivanah started, but she felt a finger on her lips and a whisper right next to her left ear,
‘Ssshhh.’ She felt a little aroused even in her state of emotional distress.
‘Pain is a seed, Mini. And it often grows into a tree we call strength. A seed of strength has been
sown in you today, Mini. You have no idea how emotionally stable a tree this will become,’ the
Stranger whispered. His breath tickled her ear as she allowed this idea to take root in her. She could
feel his cotton shirt as she grabbed it tight with both hands. Not able to hold herself back any more,
she buried her face in the Stranger’s chest and cried her heart out. She knew it would be useless to try
to get rid of the blindfold.
‘I never wanted to tell Danny the truth because the incident didn’t compromise my love for him.
Please say you know this. Please . . .’
‘I know, Mini,’ the Stranger whispered back.
‘Then why did you do this to me? Why did you lead Ekansh, me and Danny to the ATM today? This
is an irreparable damage. I don’t think Danny will ever understand why I couldn’t confess. It was
only out of love.’
‘I know Danny will never understand it.’
Rivanah frowned. She tried to touch the Stranger’s face but he wouldn’t let her.
 ‘You have to tell me why you did this to me!’ she said.
‘First, you tell me, Mini, what’s love if it doesn’t let you give your loved one some time to
explain? If it stands like a wall between you and your beloved? There are already a lot of walls in a
relationship, Mini. What’s rare is a freeway for trust.’
Rivanah listened hard as the Stranger continued, ‘This confession of yours wasn’t a test for you,
Mini, it was a test of Danny’s love. He is hurt not because you didn’t confess to him but because you
supposedly cheated on him. He doesn’t want to give you a chance to explain. It’s difficult to be with
someone who prefers his own assumptions to his partner’s reality.’
Rivanah wasn’t sure what she felt at that moment.
‘Ekansh ditched me, Danny didn’t understand me. And I loved both with all my heart. What else
can I do apart from loving someone honestly? I have tried the best I could, and it didn’t work. What
else remains for me to give anyone? I somehow managed to come to terms with Ekansh’s betrayal but
this . . . how will I be able to forget this scar, this hurt that Danny has given me by not understanding
me?’
‘To forget a hurt, Mini, we subconsciously seek a bigger and deeper hurt. Happiness is a vacation.
Hurt is our home.’
‘I was so confident nothing will go wrong between Danny and me.’ She choked. For the first time,
she felt the Stranger’s hand caressing her back. Somehow she couldn’t blame the Stranger any more
for stirring the storm he did in the ATM, because otherwise she would have continued to live a lie.
‘You will have to learn to let go, Mini. Life’s not about what you have. It’s about how much and
how easily you let go of what you have.’
There were footsteps. The Stranger placed one hand on Rivanah’s mouth, the other behind her
back, and drew her closer to his chest. She could hear his heartbeat. It sounded normal. Hers
definitely was not. The embrace calmed her. And he was . . . she lifted her head and felt his breath on
her face. As she tasted her own tears, her lips parted. She didn’t know whether the Stranger was
looking at her—she wished he was. But when she felt a thumb caressing her lips, she was sure he was
looking at her. She didn’t know which was scarier: the comfort she was feeling in the arms of a
stranger or a stranger making her this comfortable. But she knew whichever of the two it was, it was
the most compelling fear she had ever felt.
Two young boys walked past them, chatting cheerfully, not noticing them in the dark. Once their
voices became faint, the Stranger slowly released Rivanah from his grip. They stood a few inches
apart.
‘Why do you keep breaking me and then making me at the same time?’
The Stranger didn’t respond immediately. Rivanah thought he was gone. She stretched her hand and
relaxed when she felt him.
‘That’s what true love is, isn’t it?’ the Stranger asked. ‘Helping the other person grow by constantly
breaking and making them at the same time? Not the way you want them to be but the way they ought
to be.’
‘Do you mean you love—’ Rivanah felt a finger on her lips before she could finish.
 ‘That’s not important, Mini. What is important is why you forgot about Hiya all of a sudden after
you visited Mr Dutta in Kolkata? Ask yourself that. And get an answer soon. Time is running out.’
‘But you won’t kill me, right?’
There was no response. She couldn’t touch him any more with her hands. Rivanah quickly opened
her blindfold. She looked around and found herself all alone on the skywalk. Why did she forget
about Hiya after visiting Mr Dutta? Did she really visit Mr Dutta? Wasn’t it supposed to be a dream?
Her parents had confirmed it for her. The Stranger must be kidding.
 20

Rivanah had little choice but to return to the flat she shared with Danny. She used the spare key to
unlock it. She was sure she would find him inside and had no clue how to handle the situation. But
instead of Danny, she found a Post-it note on the refrigerator. It read:
I know it sounds rude but you haven’t left me with any other option. Please leave by tomorrow.
Thanks.
It wasn’t just rude. It was formal. Way too formal. And that was more hurtful. Two people claiming
to be in love until few hours back now behaving like strangers. Rivanah threw the note in the dustbin
and went to the bedroom. By then she had realized Danny wasn’t home. He wouldn’t be till the next
day—till she left. In only a few hours she had become an emotional disease he couldn’t bear to see.
She switched on the night lamp in the bedroom and looked at the nicely made bed. They had made
love on the bed time and again, whispering promises to each other and confessing their love. What
were those promises and confessions? Just a momentary illusion squeezed out by the hunger of the
body? Rivanah sat on the bed and caressed the bed sheet. The place which once had the fragrance of
their togetherness would have the stain of her tears tomorrow. But would the stains be prominent
enough to be noticed by Danny? Rivanah doubted it as a teardrop fell on the bed sheet. She lay down
on the bed, clutching the bed sheet tight, and quietly cried her way to sleep.
Rivanah woke up in the morning, took a little more than an hour to pack all her stuff except for the
ones gifted to her by Danny and pasted a blank note on the refrigerator. She didn’t have anything to
say and hoped Danny would understand. She had finally understood men. They would demand chance
after chance when they were at fault but wouldn’t give a woman any chance—it didn’t matter if she
was at fault or not. Their straying is always accidental but a woman’s straying is part of her
personality. Most importantly, a man’s mistake is a woman’s sin.
There was a surprise waiting for her in front of the main door. Her mobile phone. The one she had
smashed to the ground the previous evening. She picked it up trying to guess who could have kept it
there. There was no damage to it. Did the Stranger buy her a new phone, same model? Switching it on
she realized it was her phone; all repaired.
Initially Rivanah thought she’d go to Meghna’s place, dump her stuff and head to office but decided
against it midway. She couldn’t trouble her every time she was in a spot. Especially since Rivanah
had never bothered to keep in touch with her. The kind of spite she had felt seeing Riju with Meghna
last time eventually steered her mind off. With no clue where to go at such short notice, Rivanah went
to the office with her luggage. When her colleagues enquired about the reason for such a sudden shift,
she made up excuses.
 Rivanah thought she could find temporary accommodation with the colleagues she was close to, but
they all gave some excuse or other. She talked with two or three brokers for a rented place, but
nothing was available immediately. In the end she thought of putting up at a hotel near her office until
she found a flat. She booked a room. Rivanah was surprised—she wasn’t as disarrayed as she thought
she would be. She even faked a perfectly normal tone while talking to her mother. The Rivanah who
had come to Mumbai wouldn’t have been able to be so composed and practical after a break-up. It
was the Rivanah who had stayed in Mumbai and fought whatever had come her way.
In the evening, as she dragged her luggage into the office elevator on her way out and pressed the
ground floor button, a foot stopped the door from closing. She looked up to see Nivan.
‘Hey,’ he said and entered the elevator.
‘Hey.’ Rivanah was glad to see him. Nivan glanced at her luggage and said, ‘Did you just rob our
office?’
Rivanah smiled and replied, ‘House issues. Need to find a place ASAP.’
‘Oh. Didn’t the landlord give you any notice?’
Rivanah’s smile went dry as she said, ‘Not really.’
‘That’s quite indecent on his part.’
Rivanah nodded in agreement. The elevator door opened on the ground floor. ‘See you,’ Nivan said
and stepped out of the elevator before she could reply. She dragged her luggage out and went out of
her office building to fetch an autorickshaw. Had it not been for her luggage, she could have walked
the distance. To her dismay, no auto was ready to take her to the hotel such a short distance away. A
pitch-black BMW came to halt right in front of her. Rivanah didn’t notice who was inside it until the
window rolled down. It was Nivan. And her stupid smile was back.
‘Where are you going to put up tonight?’ Nivan asked trying to lean sideways away from the
steering wheel in order to make eye contact.
‘Hotel Hometel. It’s very close—’
‘I know where Hometel is,’ he cut her short. ‘But I think I’ve a permanent solution for you.’
‘You do? I’m listening.’
‘I own an empty flat right opposite the one I live in. You can stay there if it is okay with you.’
‘Thanks, but I think it would be a problem for you.’
‘Not really. I’m anyway thinking of letting the flat out. Might as well start with you.’
So it’s not charity, Rivanah thought, and said, ‘In that case, I don’t mind.’
Nivan got out of the car and helped her put the luggage in the boot. Rivanah cast furtive glances at
Nivan all through their ride, but not once did she see him return any. She would have loved it if he
had asked her something. That would have given her the licence to ask him some as well without
sounding like a probing psycho.
Nivan lived in a posh locality near the Lokhandwala market in Andheri West. Five minutes from
Krishna Towers where she lived with Danny. Used to live with Danny, she corrected herself. Once
inside the society premises, she knew she wouldn’t be able to afford the rent there. The Residency
Enclave was visibly an upscale area. She thought it’d be rude if she refused outright since Nivan was
concerned enough to have driven her to the place.
 He lived on the sixteenth floor. Flat number 1603. He pressed the doorbell and they exchanged a
formal smile.
The door was opened by an old female servant. She took Nivan’s laptop bag as a Labrador rushed
towards him, wagging its tail.
‘Meet Xeno,’ Nivan told Rivanah.
‘Say hello to . . .’ Nivan told Xeno, caressing him, and then turned to Rivanah saying, ‘It’s Rivanah,
right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Say hi to Rivanah,’ Nivan spoke into Xeno’s ears.
‘Niv!’ A lady called out from one of the rooms inside.
‘Please be comfortable, and give me a minute,’ Nivan told Rivanah and went in as Xeno sniffed
her. She patted its head lovingly and walked to the huge white sofa and sat down. Xeno too sat down
right beside her feet on the Kashmiri carpet. The servant who had opened the door came with a glass
of water. While sipping the water, a tiny part of her was praying that the woman who called Nivan
inside was his mother. Or aunt. Or whoever except . . . her eyes fell on a lot of photographs, mostly of
Nivan and another girl. But before she could take a closer look at the pictures, Nivan came out into
the drawing room.
‘Let’s go,’ he said and went towards the main door. Rivanah kept her glass on the tray on the centre
table. As she followed Nivan, Xeno followed her.
It was flat no. 1604, right opposite his, as Nivan had said. Rivanah realized there was no
nameplate on the front door as she saw him switch on the lights. He asked Rivanah to follow him
inside. She did along with Xeno.
It was a well-furnished flat. There was a little dust in the air, which told Rivanah it must have been
closed for some time, but it was a cosy place nonetheless. Nivan went to a corner and pressed a
button. Slowly the curtains which Rivanah had been mistaking for wallpaper drew themselves to one
side bringing alive a breathtaking view of the Versova beach. Rivanah’s jaw fell open as she went
close to the glass wall. She could see the evening horizon in the distance as the sun almost set in its
lap. It was almost a dream flat for her but soon reality set in. She couldn’t afford such a place.
‘Give me eighteen thousand a month for this, and it’s all yours. No brokerage. No advance,’ she
heard Nivan say. Rivanah immediately turned around to look at him.
‘Okay. How many tenants will you allow?’ she asked.
‘It’s all yours. No sharing business.’
A smile of disbelief escaped her. ‘You must be kidding?’ Rivanah said.
‘No, I’m not,’ Nivan said kneeling down to caress Xeno.
‘This flat’s rent, considering the locality, should be around eighty thousand a month. And you are
asking me to pay eighteen with no other roommates? That has to be a joke.’
‘What you mentioned is the market rate. But the rent is decided by someone else.’
‘Someone else? Who?’
‘The landlady.’
‘Oh, I thought you owned the place.’
 ‘I own the place but someone else rules it,’ Nivan said with a faint smirk.
‘May I know who that landlady is?’
‘You’ll get to know soon. I hope you liked the place though.’
‘I love it. And I can’t thank you enough, sir.’
‘Call me Nivan. And we’ll make an agreement by noon tomorrow.’
Rivanah smiled and said, ‘Thanks, Nivan.’
‘Don’t mention it. You can have a look at the entire flat first.’
‘Sure,’ Rivanah said and went in. It was a fully furnished two-bedroom flat. Only a blind person
can say no to this one, Rivanah thought, and paused at the bedroom entrance seeing something.
‘All good?’ Nivan startled Rivanah.
‘A sketch stand?’ Rivanah said, looking at the sketch stand in the bedroom.
‘It belongs to the one who stayed in this flat before you. Been some time. I didn’t want to throw it
away, actually. After all, it’s art and I appreciate it.’
Rivanah walked up to the sketch stand. There were sheets on it. The first sketch was of a woman’s
face.
‘I can get this removed if it’s too much of a bother,’ Nivan offered.
‘Let it be,’ Rivanah said as she touched the sheet. She neither knew nor remembered that it was her
own sketch of Hiya Chowdhury’s face. ‘It’s lovely,’ Rivanah added.
 21

Rivanah ordered from Subway that night. She was so tired because of the constant shuttling that she
had no strength to cook. Only when the sub and diet Coke arrived did it strike her that she had not
eaten a morsel in the last twenty-four hours. Post dinner, she called up her mother. Since her Kolkata
trip, the frequency of her mother’s calls had increased as well. After the attack, she understood their
concern. The police hadn’t been able to find a lead. Though she talked to her mother for almost half
an hour, she didn’t say a word about what had happened between Danny and her. She could well
imagine her father’s reaction once he knew: I told you so! And never again would she be able to
convince him about her choice in the future—if she has a choice in the future. Lying down in bed,
Rivanah’s eyes fell on the sketch stand next to her with the face of a girl. Rivanah had brought her
own sketch stand when she had left Danny’s place, but had instructed the guard to discard it since she
wouldn’t need it. She had no idea what it was doing at Danny’s house in the first place—she
definitely couldn’t remember sketching anything. But Danny had said she was the one who had
sketched those faces. And now, lying on the bed gaping at the sketch, she felt there was something
familiar about it. But what was it? The Stranger’s last question to her before he disappeared popped
up in her mind: Why did you forget about Hiya after meeting Mr Dutta? Why would her parents
deny something which had happened for real? Or was the Stranger up to some mind games again?
Rivanah immediately picked up her phone and called her mother. It was 10.30 p.m. She didn’t care
that they might be asleep.
‘Mumma?’
‘Mini? Is everything all right?’ her mother asked, sounding anxious.
‘Yes, all is fine. Tell me, Mumma, did I ever sketch before?’ Rivanah asked.
There was silence.
‘Mumma?’
‘Mini?’ Her father came on the line.
‘Baba? Where’s Mumma? What happened?’
‘That’s what I want to know. What happened? Why are you asking about sketching at this odd
hour?’ Her father sounded as anxious as her mother.
‘Everything is fine. I just wanted to know if I sketched before or not.’
‘Yes, you used to sketch. But you left that hobby long back.’
Long back? ‘Hmm. Okay. Goodnight, Baba.’
‘Are you sure everything is okay, Mini?’
‘Yes. Goodnight, Baba.’
 ‘Goodnight, Mini,’ her father said, still sounding concerned.
Rivanah kept staring at the sketch and then shut her eyes to sleep.
The next morning, before going to office, Nivan’s agent had come to take her signature on the rental
agreement. Rivanah didn’t see Nivan leaving for office around the time she did, though she secretly
wished he had. His presence—she had realized in the car with him the other day—made her
disconnect with the mess her life was. The sight of him was a sweet escape. But one thing she had
promised herself: even if she felt attracted to him, she wouldn’t fall for him. In fact, she wouldn’t fall
for any man again. After two failed relationships, Rivanah didn’t want to take a chance. Not so soon.
Not ever, if possible.
In the office, Rivanah was surprised to know that she and Nivan had become a couple overnight for
most of her teammates.
‘Don’t lie! Rohit saw you guys together. Didn’t he give you a lift yesterday?’ asked one.
‘Yeah, but—’
‘How is he in bed?’ asked another inquisitive co-worker.
‘Shut up! I needed a place to stay so—’
‘OMG! You are staying with Nivan?’ said another colleague almost having a heart attack.
‘No! Someplace close to his.’ Rivanah intentionally lied to avoid any further questions.
‘Did you find out anything about him?’ Rivanah understood she wasn’t the only one crushing on
Nivan. He was quite a hit with the office females. Twice while fetching hot cappuccino for herself,
Rivanah came across Nivan, but his body language was so formal that she wondered if he was the
same person who had given her a lift and lent out his flat at half the market rate.
During the day, whenever her phone buzzed with a message, Rivanah thought it would be Danny,
but it never was. When she checked her WhatsApp during lunch, she saw Danny’s display picture
wasn’t visible to her. He must have deleted her number. So easily? It scared her. Are relationships
that brittle? Or are humans that unpredictable? Rivanah remembered how her cousin Meghna and
Aadil broke up after almost a decade of being together. The worst part of such an experience is that it
no longer lets you be in control of your own life, blinding you in the process.
She deleted Danny’s number. A supposed intimate connection between two human beings was
finally over with one tap of a finger on a mechanical device.
In the evening, Rivanah went straight to her flat, feeling mentally exhausted. The moment she
unlocked the door, a pleasant smell hit her. She followed it to the dining table where she saw a bowl
covered with a plate. It was payesh. And this one smelt exactly the way her mother used to make it.
Rivanah scooped out some with her index finger, and licked it, relishing the taste. But who kept it
here?
Rivanah picked up the bowl and went to Nivan’s door and rang the doorbell. The servant opened
the door.
‘Hi, I wanted to know if you kept this inside the flat,’ Rivanah said.
The female servant nodded and gestured her to come inside.
‘No, I’m fine. Just wanted to know if it was you. Did you prepare it?’
 The servant suddenly grabbed her hand and tried to pull her inside the flat. It didn’t take much time
to understand that she was dumb. She gestured Rivanah to sit down, closed the main door, and
scampered inside. Xeno came running towards Rivanah, wagging its tail. The servant came into the
drawing room pushing a wheelchair on which sat a pristine-looking girl. She was smiling at Rivanah.
Is she the one who called Nivan the other day from the bedroom? Rivanah wondered.
‘Hi,’ the girl said as the servant brought her close to Rivanah.
‘Hi. I’m Rivanah Bannerjee. I stay—’
‘I know. I’m Advika,’ the girl interrupted. Her words came out slurry.
And what’s your relation with Nivan? Rivanah thought, but said, ‘Nice to meet you,’ extending her
right hand. Instead of the right, Advika lifted her left hand saying, ‘I’m sorry, Rivanah, my right side
doesn’t function.’
‘Oh!’ Rivanah looked at her, pulling back her hand slightly, but Advika’s left hand grasped it. It
was unusually warm. They shook hands.
‘Actually, I found this in my house.’ She showed her the bowl and continued, ‘I have no idea how it
got there.’
Advika smiled, eyeing the servant, and said, ‘I’d asked her to send some for you.’
‘But—’ Rivanah started but was cut short again.
‘I love cooking. But now I can’t do so myself; I only get to supervise. Is it any good?’ Advika said.
‘It is awesome. Just the way my mother prepares it.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You stay alone here?’ Rivanah asked.
‘Not alone. Nivan stays with me.’
‘Oh, yes. That was so silly of me to ask,’ Rivanah said awkwardly.
‘Nivan told me about you though.’
‘He did?’ she asked in surprise.
‘The way you made him dance at the office party. I would’ve loved to witness it in person.’
Rivanah desperately wanted to disappear into thin air.
‘Trust me, I’ve known Nivan for a long time. And I’m yet to see him dance. You must be some girl
to have made it possible.’
Yeah, some girl I’m! Someone with no limits to her stupidity, Rivanah thought.
‘Thank you,’ Advika said.
‘Huh?’ Rivanah wasn’t prepared for it.
‘Thank you for making Nivan happy. Of late, he’s been quite stressed. He seldom shares his
problems with me. But since that dancing incident, he has been happy. I can feel it. And I’m sure you
are the reason for it.’
I am? I can’t be the reason for my own happiness, how can I make someone else happy? Rivanah
thought and said, ‘Well, I’m sure there’s a better and more legitimate reason for him to be happy.’
Advika was about to respond when Rivanah’s phone rang. It was her mother.
‘Excuse me,’ Rivanah apologized and picked up the call.
‘Mumma, what happened?’
 ‘It’s Baba here,’ said Mr Bannerjee in a grave tone. Rivanah stood up and went a little away from
Advika so she could speak to him privately.
‘Baba, why do you sound so serious?’
‘I just came back from office, so I’m a little tired. Anyway, Mini, some office work has come up in
Mumbai. Mumma and I are coming over there tomorrow. What’s your address? I misplaced the paper
on which you wrote it down when you were here.’
Sudden work in Mumbai? Something wasn’t right.
 22

Rivanah took her leave from Advika soon after the phone call. She couldn’t sleep properly that
night. There were too many questions haunting her. Was her parents’ sudden visit actually because of
office work? Or were they coming to check on her? Also, what would she tell them about Danny?
She’d never told them she was living with him in the first place. And now she won’t have to, but
should she come out clean about her relationship with him, even if it was a thing of the past now?
Upon their arrival, Mr and Mrs Bannerjee’s first impression of their daughter’s new place was
good. But they were not in favour of the fact that she was living alone.
‘What if you fall sick? There should be one roommate at least,’ Mrs Bannerjee said.
‘Your mother is right, Mini,’ Mr Bannerjee chipped in, making himself comfortable on the sofa. He
was happy there weren’t any of those horrible bean bags in sight that he so greatly despised. ‘I have
spread the word. Someone will join me soon,’ Rivanah lied while serving her parents water.
‘Which branch will you have to go to, Baba?’ Rivanah asked, trying to figure out if there really was
any office work.
‘Wait, I have to show you something,’ Mr Bannerjee said and brought out a newspaper from his
bag. Why was he evading my question? Rivanah wondered, as he opened the newspaper’s
entertainment supplement. He pointed at a particular picture and gave the supplement to Rivanah.
‘See.’
She took it from him with a frown. It didn’t take long for her to identify Danny in the photograph.
He was with three girls and two boys. The photograph was part of a feature whose headline read
‘Newbies in Bollywood’. She took half a minute to go through the article. It was the first unofficial
announcement of the movie Danny was doing. Finally he has made it, she thought. Just when she was
out of his life.
‘Don’t tell me, Baba, you guys came to Mumbai for this?’ Rivanah said.
‘Of course not. But it’s good to know that Danny’s movie will be coming out soon,’ Mr Bannerjee
said.
Rivanah glanced at her mother who beamed at her as if she was happy that her daughter would now
be allowed to marry the guy of her choice.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Rivanah said. While reading the article, she had decided it was useless to keep
them in the dark.
‘What do you mean?’ Mrs Bannerjee’s smile disappeared at once.
‘We broke up.’
Mr Bannerjee threw an incredulous look at his wife and said the expected; ‘I told you!’
 Rivanah sat back on the sofa trying to shut her mind because she knew most of what was going to
be said. And when it was over, Rivanah said, ‘This is what you guys wanted anyway. Why dissect it
more?’
Both Mr and Mrs Bannerjee understood their daughter had a point. Mr Bannerjee quietly went
inside to change while Mrs Bannerjee came close to her daughter and asked, ‘One last question,
Mini.’
‘What?’
‘Why did you two break up?’
Rivanah rolled her eyes and said, ‘That’s because we stopped loving each other.’ She carried their
luggage to the guest bedroom while her mother mumbled under her breath, ‘Stopped loving each
other? How ridiculous!’
When Rivanah came out of the bedroom, she saw her parents gaping at the sketch stand.
‘What happened?’
‘Who sketched this?’ Mr Bannerjee asked. He sounded as grave as he did on the phone when he
had informed her about his Mumbai trip.
‘Someone who used to stay here before me.’
‘What?’ Mr Bannerjee said in shock.
‘That’s what the landlord told me. But why do you look so unconvinced? Have you seen the sketch
somewhere?’
Before Mr Bannerjee could speak, his wife spoke up, ‘How will we see the sketch before? You
sketched it in Kolkata also, so your baba must have thought—’
‘What? I sketched this in Kolkata? When?’ Rivanah said, looking at her parents. She noticed her
father shooting an angry glance at her mother as if she had crossed a line, and then he said, ‘Not
exactly this, but you used to sketch facial portraits during your schooldays.’
There was an awkward silence in the room for some time.
‘Is this our room?’ Mr Bannerjee asked.
‘No. This is mine. Yours is the other one. I have kept the luggage inside.’
‘Good. And you shouldn’t keep other people’s stuff with you. It’s not good manners,’ Mr Bannerjee
said, pointing to the sketch one last time, and then went away.
‘Your baba is right.’ Mrs Bannerjee came to her daughter and grasped her hand. ‘One can’t trust
anyone or anything.’
‘What are you talking about, Mumma? It’s just a sketch stand for God’s sake. Anyway, I’m going to
take a bath now and then I have to rush to office. Everything is in the kitchen, Mumma. By the way,
when do you have to go to office, Baba?’ Rivanah wanted an answer.
‘What’s the hurry?’ Mr Bannerjee said, unlocking his suitcase and averting his eyes.
‘Baba, look at me,’ Rivanah said. ‘There’s no office work, right?’
Mr Bannerjee looked down at the suitcase making the answer evident.
‘Can’t we come to just see you, Mini?’ Mrs Bannerjee joined them in the bedroom.
‘Of course, Mumma, you can. Any time. But what’s the reason to lie?’
 ‘We thought you may ask us to delay the visit if we were coming only to see you,’ Mrs Bannerjee
said.
‘Okay, whatever. You guys take rest now,’ she said and went to take a bath.

Rivanah reached her office and immediately messaged the Stranger: Is the question you wanted me
to ask myself and my parents’ Mumbai visit connected?
The Stranger’s response made Rivanah’s heart skip a beat: Very much.
Rivanah couldn’t believe the fact that her own parents were probably part of something sinister.
Did they know who the Stranger was? Her fingers trembled as she typed a message back: How are
the two connected?
I shall only provide you with the dots. You’ll have to draw the line yourself, Mini.
Damn! She was frustrated about the whole thing. And scared too, knowing her parents were hiding
something on which perhaps two of the biggest questions in her life depended: one, what connected
her to Hiya Chowdhury, and two, who the hell was this Stranger? A direct confrontation with her
parents on this, she now knew, wouldn’t fetch the kind of results she wanted. Rivanah kept pondering
over this all day. In between, she checked Danny’s Facebook profile. As expected, the Add as a
Friend button showed up. She had been ousted from there too. If that’s what you want, Danny, she
thought and logged out.
Rivanah received a call from Sadhu Ram inquiring if anything untoward had happened after they
had caught Argho at Bungalow 9. Rivanah informed him she would like to take the complaint back,
realizing the Stranger puzzle wasn’t going to end with the help of police. In fact, it would only
become more complicated. She would have to solve it on her own. If at all it is solvable, she thought.
In the evening, when Rivanah reached her place, she ran into Nivan taking a stroll with Xeno in the
society premises.
‘You came early?’ Rivanah said, kneeling down to pat Xeno on the head.
‘I was in Bangalore for a meeting. Came a few hours back. How is it going?’
‘All good.’
‘I’m sure. I heard your parents are here,’ she heard Nivan say.
‘Oh yes, they are.’
‘Nice. See you around,’ he said and pulled Xeno away. He had taken a couple of steps when
Rivanah rushed to him.
‘Do you, by any chance, remember who your last tenant was?’ Rivanah asked.
‘Well, it was a guy.’
‘Okay.’ Rivanah’s hair on her nape rose. Was it the Stranger?
‘What did he look like?’ Rivanah asked, anxious.
‘Don’t mind me asking, but what’s up? Is there any problem?’
Rivanah immediately realized her mistake. ‘I’m sorry I’m being rude,’ she said and tried to act all
normal. ‘My father saw the sketch stand and wanted me to return it to the person who left it there
since he doesn’t like to use other people’s things.’
 ‘To be honest, it has been some time the guy lived here. And I was in the US at that time. I don’t
really remember him clearly. But I think if he left the sketch stand here, it must mean it wasn’t
important to him or else he would have come back.’
Makes sense, Rivanah thought.
‘If you want I can get it removed.’
‘It’s okay. It’s a sketch stand, after all. Not a time bomb.’ Rivanah managed a smile. Nivan too
smiled back. He finally walked away with Xeno while Rivanah entered the building. By the time she
reached the sixteenth floor, she had an idea—as the Stranger had said— to join the dots.
Rivanah remained quiet all through dinner. She told her parents she had had a long day in office
and would retire early. She waited for her parents to sleep, after which she tiptoed into their room.
She looked around and soon found her father’s phone on the bedside table. It was an old phone
without any password protection. She quickly unlocked it and went to Contacts and scrolled down.
Rivanah sighed in relief, seeing what she was hoping for: Manick Dutta’s phone number. She typed a
message to him: It was nice to meet you the other day. Hope you are doing fine.
Rivanah sent it, praying that Mr Dutta was awake. It was only 10.45 p.m., after all. Not everyone
slept early like her parents. Putting the phone on mute, she waited impatiently for a response. Her
father turned around in his sleep. Rivanah froze. She had an excuse ready: if any of the two woke up,
she would tell them she had come to look for a hairclip. But neither woke up.
Two minutes later, a message came in from Mr Dutta: The pleasure is mine. It was indeed nice to
meet you and family the other day. I hope Rivanah is all right.
She is fine. Thank you. Rivanah messaged back, now certain that the visit to Mr Dutta’s house
wasn’t a dream as she was made to believe by her parents. But why? What happened at Mr Manick
Dutta’s place which had to be kept a secret from me by my own parents? Rivanah deleted all the
messages and put the phone back on the side table.
 23

‘Is there anything that you are hiding from us, Mini?’ Mr Bannerjee asked.
It was next morning. The three were at the dining table having breakfast. Mr Bannerjee was reading
the Economic Times while Mrs Bannerjee was leafing through the entertainment section. She glanced
at her husband and then at her daughter, anticipating a response from the latter.
The word ‘hiding’ made Rivanah look up for the first time since she had joined her parents for
breakfast. She couldn’t sleep after reading Mr Dutta’s message. What was it her parents were hiding
from her? Why would her own parents hide anything from her in the first place? And now her father
was asking her what she was hiding?
‘Nothing, why?’ she said.
‘You seem lost. Didn’t you sleep well?’
‘Office pressure,’ she said and noticed her parents exchanging looks. This exchange of looks,
Rivanah surmised, has happened too many times since they came here.
‘Don’t let your health get affected, shona,’ Mrs Bannerjee said. They resumed eating in silence.
‘I’ll get ready for office.’ Rivanah went to her room after breakfast, while Mrs Bannerjee cleared
the table and took the leftovers back to the kitchen. Just then, Mr Bannerjee heard two screams—one
came from the bedroom and the other from the kitchen. Mr Bannerjee didn’t know where to go. He
scampered to the kitchen and realized his wife was standing with her hands on her hips while the
washbasin tap was flowing with full gusto.
‘Why don’t you close the tap? You are wasting water.’
‘It won’t close.’
Mr Bannerjee came to inspect the tap and splashed water all over him in the process. He
understood the knot in the tap had become loose.
‘Why did you open it so hard?’ he asked, irritated. ‘We have to bring a plumber for this.’
Rivanah dashed into the kitchen, asking, ‘Where did you put the sketch, Mumma? Why isn’t it there
on the sketch stand?’
‘I just kept it—’
‘And what’s this?’ Rivanah asked, gaping at the water gushing out of the tap. Her father had tied a
piece of cloth over the tap, controlling the force of the water somewhat.
‘Call a plumber, Mini,’ Mr Bannerjee said.
‘I have no idea where from. Wait, let me ask Nivan.’
‘Who is Nivan?’ Mrs Bannerjee was instantly curious.
‘My landlord,’ Rivanah said and left the kitchen.
 Nivan answered the doorbell. He was in a tee and shorts, coffee mug in hand.
‘Hey,’ he said.
‘Hi,’ she replied, while trying hard not to register the boyish charm he exuded. She failed
miserably.
‘Do you know a plumber around here? The kitchen tap has gone bonkers.’
‘Oh.’ Nivan kept the coffee mug on the wooden shoe rack and came out of the flat.
‘Let me check.’
‘A plumber would do actually,’ Rivanah said, feeling embarrassed about her senior trying a role
shift.
‘It’s okay.’
Rivanah reluctantly led him inside the flat and into the kitchen where her parents were still
fidgeting with the tap. Rivanah made a quick introduction as Nivan went towards the kitchen window,
opened it completely and stretched his hand out.
‘Its main knob is outside,’ he said and the water stopped immediately. Nivan drew his hand in and
said, ‘I shall send the plumber in some time.’
‘Thank you so much, Mr Nivan . . .’ Mr Bannerjee was fetching for a surname and Rivanah knew
exactly why.
‘Mallick. Nivan Mallick.’
‘It is nice to meet you, Mr Mallick.’
‘Same here, sir,’ Nivan said.
‘Thanks for taking such good care of my daughter. She told me everything,’ he said with a smile.
Though it was a lie—she told me everything— Rivanah knew where the discussion was heading and
wanted to stop her father right there but couldn’t.
‘Your daughter deserves every bit of it.’
‘Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight if it’s not much of a problem?’
There! She knew it.
‘Baba, he is a busy man.’ Rivanah had to barge in now.
‘Why, don’t busy people have dinner?’ he said and laughed, aptly joined by his wife.
‘I would love to. I love Bong food.’ Nivan said.
‘Khoob bhalo! Then at 9 tonight?’
‘Sure.’
Rivanah escorted Nivan to the main door and shut it after him. She was about to rush to the kitchen
but she noticed her parents were already in the drawing room.
‘Very nice boy,’ Mr Bannerjee said.
‘Shotti!’ Mrs Bannerjee confirmed her husband’s sentiments.
‘He is my senior in office, Baba.’
‘Senior? What’s his designation?’
‘VP, sales.’
‘VP? This is even better. At such a young age. He must be what, 28–29? Max 30. A real achiever
indeed. He must have good genes.’
 Rivanah knew arguing would be a waste of time. She changed the topic. ‘Where’s the sketch,
Mumma?’
‘I have kept it inside the wardrobe.
‘Why? Was it biting you?’
‘Why keep someone else’s sketch in the open?’
‘Uff, tumi je ki koro na!’ Rivanah walked off.
In the office, Rivanah thought the best way to avoid the impending dinner disaster would be to
somehow request Nivan not to come for dinner. She didn’t have his phone number yet. And going to
his cabin for such a lame thing would be too much. She went through her mails to check if any of them
had Nivan’s official mail ID. She found it in one of the group emails. She immediately wrote to him:
May I have your mobile number?
A minute later, Nivan replied with his phone number. Rivanah saved it on her phone and checked if
he was available on WhatsApp. He was. She typed carefully: Sorry to disturb you like this, but I
hope my parents didn’t offend you in any way.
His reply came soon enough: Offended? Not at all. Looking forward to some delicious Bong food
tonight.
And Rivanah knew an acute embarrassment was only hours away.
Mrs Bannerjee surprised Rivanah with the number of food items she had prepared for dinner.
‘Mumma, he is coming alone, not with the whole colony. Why have you prepared so much food?’
‘I know, but what will he think of us if we don’t give him options?’
The acute embarrassment was confirmed as far as Rivanah was concerned. Not because she had
any problem with so many food items, but because she knew what the intention behind impressing
Nivan was.
The doorbell rang shortly after nine. Mr Bannerjee welcomed Nivan. The dinner didn’t go as badly
as Rivanah had imagined. Nivan loved everything that was served to him. Mr Bannerjee found the
perfect pal in Nivan to discuss his latest obsession: politics. Seeing Nivan talk with her father, she
remembered how Danny too had once come for dinner only to be cold-shouldered by her father. How
lifesaving it would be if one already knew whether a relationship would go the distance or not,
before commencing it. We can always change the road we take but we can’t undo the steps we took.
It was around 10.30 when Nivan finally left. Rivanah let out a sigh of relief as she joined her
parents on the couch in the drawing room.
‘Mini,’ Mr Bannerjee said and continued once Rivanah looked up at him, ‘I think Nivan is a good
guy.’
‘Hmm.’ Rivanah said.
‘I think we should meet his parents too.’
‘Huh?’
‘He is young, highly qualified, seems very decent, knowledgeable, well settled, and he is not
married.’
Rivanah was in an instant dilemma: whether to feel happy about all this or to rue over the fact that
her father actually made such enquiries.
 ‘Baba, don’t tell me you asked him if he was married.’
‘I did when you went to the kitchen to fetch more water for him.’
‘But why?’
‘What why? It is pretty evident what your choice of guys is like. I think you should focus on your
job and let us select your life partner. And don’t worry, we won’t give you any reason to cry about
this.’
‘I know that, Baba, but I don’t even know Nivan.’
‘You always told us you knew Ekansh and Danny. What was the result? Marriage is about taking as
much time as possible to know the person. You youngsters end up knowing everyone so quickly that
you get bored and itch to move on to someone else.’
‘This is not what happened with Ekansh or Danny.’
‘You told us what happened between Ekansh and you, but what happened with Danny?’ Mrs
Bannerjee was curious.
Rivanah threw a helpless look at her mother and then said, ‘Nothing. I’m feeling tired. Goodnight.’
As she hit the bed, her father’s words echoed in her mind: and he is not married. Why did that sound
so appealing? In the Stranger’s words: was she yet again seeking a bigger and deeper hurt in Nivan in
order to get over the one given by Danny? It had been some time since the Stranger had contacted her.
And with the house-hunting and shifting and her parents’ arrival, she didn’t get the time to contact him
more than once. She knew now was the time.
You there? she messaged on one of the stored numbers.
You bet, was the immediate response.
A smile lit up her face. How are you?
I’m good, Mini. Thank you for asking. How are you?
I’m . . . I don’t know. Tell me, you wanted to kill me some time back, and now you don’t contact
me at all. Why are you so unpredictable?
I’m unpredictable because you know nothing about me, but in your mind you have heaps of
presumptions about me.
Why don’t you clear those presumptions then?
I will when I’m in the mood, Mini.
You never will, I know.
That too is a presumption.
Haha. Okay, what if I say I know you are aware of the fact that I live right next to Nivan’s flat.
Would you call it a presumption?
No. I will call it duty. My duty is to know whatever you are up to.
I knew that. What if I tell you I’ve been thinking about Nivan? Do you think I’m doing so
because I’m somewhere seeking a bigger and deeper hurt?
Perhaps.
What should I do then?
Be wary of Nivan. He is hiding something.
For the first time during the chat, Rivanah’s expression changed into a deep frown. What is it?
 It is something that may bring you and me closer. Goodnight, Mini.
Rivanah messaged back couple of times but there was no response. What could Nivan possibly be
hiding that may bring the Stranger closer to me? Rivanah wondered and replayed the entire evening
in her mind from the time he came in. She stopped at a particular moment when he had asked her if the
sketch stand had to be removed. Rivanah had said no, after which he had asked if she had found
anything else that belonged to the previous tenant. She had said no then, but the truth was that she had
not checked the flat thoroughly.
Rivanah got up with a start, closed her room’s door lest her parents noticed, and switched on the
light. She checked the wardrobe, behind it, under the bed, below the mattress. While lifting the
mattress, she noticed the bed had boxes for storage. Three out of the four boxes were empty. In the
fourth box, she found a stack of books. They were some old Harold Robbins and Irving Wallace
books. She was about to put them back in the box when she noticed something white peeping out of
one of the books. She opened the particular novel and her jaw dropped immediately. It was a white
piece of cloth with a message embroidered in black thread. She quickly opened the other books and
all of them had a similar white cloth on which some message was embroidered in black. The sight
made her stomach churn.
 24

The radium hands of the clock in Rivanah’s bedroom showed it was 3.15 a.m. As she tossed and
turned in bed, Rivanah felt she couldn’t move her hands properly. She got up and tried to move one
hand but realized it was tied to the other.
‘Fuck!’ she gasped.
A sound made her look towards the window. She saw a man’s silhouette, clear against the
moonlight by the room’s window. He had a shiny object in his hand.
‘Hello, Mini,’ the man said.
She knew who it was. She had asked him on the skywalk if he wanted to kill her. The sight of the
shiny, pointy object told her he did. She tried to jump out of the bed and fell on the floor. Her feet
were free but her hands were tied. She was about to scream when she heard the Stranger say, ‘If you
call your parents, I’ll kill you in two seconds, but if you keep quiet and cooperate I shall tell you who
I am.’
Rivanah, still on the floor, was already breathing hard. Her lower lip quivered. And her silence
told the Stranger what her decision was. With each step he took towards her, her heartbeat quickened.
He bent down and picked her up in his arms, as if she were a feather. His strength aroused her and
eclipsed her fear even. The mask covering his face revealed only his eyes, lips and the tip of his nose.
She knew she had seen those eyes before.
He took her to the drawing room, never breaking eye contact.
The Stranger placed her close to the glass wall. Before her feet could find the floor, he pursed her
lips with his. In a second, his tongue barged into her mouth. The hunger with which he was exploring
her mouth broke the slumber created by fear in her, and every inch of her body awoke to an overtly
sexual dawn. She wanted to see who this Stranger was but her hands were still tied together. He
broke off the kiss and, looking straight into her eyes, tore open her nightdress. The buttons flew open,
and he doffed the shirt as she raised her hands above her head. Rivanah rarely wore a bra at night,
and her breasts were now out in the open. Her instinct was to cover them with her hands but they
were pinned above her head with such power that she didn’t even try. The Stranger squeezed her
breasts with his free hand and whispered in her ears, ‘I’m going to untie you now. I hope you know
what you have to do.’ With a deadly twinkle in his eyes, he slowly pulled a string and her hands came
free. She put her arms around him immediately and pulled him closer to cover her breasts with his
chest. Holding him around his neck with one hand, her other hand slithered downwards till it reached
his groin. As she massaged his erect penis over his jeans, she pulled his face closer to hers and this
time explored his mouth herself with a renewed hunger. The Stranger grasped her hand over his groin.
He made her unzip his jeans, and then tug it down, along with his underwear, till his knees. She could
feel the tip of his erect penis poking her lower abdomen over her shorts as the two smooched harder.
The Stranger scratched her thighs and reached for the elastic of her shorts. Slowly, he rolled both her
shorts and panties down together. Grabbing her bare butt with his strong hands, he lifted her till both
her legs were resting on his arm. Next, he brought her down so that she could hold his penis and guide
it inside her. She obliged and let out a loud moan as he entered her. She heard some noise in her
parent’s bedroom. What if my mother comes out in the drawing room right now? What will I tell
her? The forbidden nature of her act made Rivanah even more excited. As the Stranger kept moving
his pelvis against hers with vigour, Rivanah kept glancing at her parents’ door, hoping nobody came
out, while her heart wanted the Stranger to keep going. The way he was looking at her told her he
knew what was on her mind . . .
After this, you’ll have to remove the mask. You’ll have to tell me who you are. I promise I won’t
tell anyone anything. Not even my parents or the police. I have paid enough price to deserve your
identity now, Stranger. Even if you want to kill me after this, do it. I wouldn’t mind, but here’s one
last wish: I want to die in your arms, Stranger. I want to die in your arms, looking deep into your
eyes as you lead me to a crushing climax where life and death merge to become eternity . . .
‘Mini?’ Mrs Bannerjee called out from her room. By the time she came into Rivanah’s bedroom
inquiring who she was talking to at such an odd hour, Rivanah was sound asleep—or faking it, to be
more precise. Mrs Bannerjee came to her, caressed her forehead and then returned to her room. Once
Rivanah was sure her mother had gone, she opened her eyes. Her heart was racing. She couldn’t
believe she had spoken the words out loud, with her parents in the very next room. She removed her
hand from between her legs, tugged her panties up and sat up. Her fantasy had ended abruptly. She felt
a little empty, but she didn’t want to do it again.
Rivanah went into the washroom and shut the door. Switching on the lights, Rivanah stared at her
reflection in the mirror. She saw someone who had no clue what was happening in her life. After she
had found the pieces of white cloth inside the books, Rivanah had been shell-shocked for some time.
They had the same messages that she had received from the Stranger in the beginning. Was it the
Stranger who had stayed in this flat before her? Her parents were surely hiding something. The
Stranger wouldn’t tell her anything directly, so where did that leave her? Whom could she talk to?
She felt a stifling restlessness which wouldn’t let her sleep or even be at peace. She wanted a
distraction. The Stranger had come into her life once in a while, and it ended in a raunchy fantasy. But
the questions still remained: whom could she talk to about the pieces of cloth? And why would the
Stranger say Nivan was hiding something?
The next morning, her mother complained that Rivanah hadn’t taken a day off work to spend time
with her parents, like she had done the last time they had come to Mumbai.
‘But, Mumma, I don’t have many leaves. And I’ve just joined this company,’ she said but promised
herself to take her parents out for dinner at least.
At work, she kept thinking of how she could find out more about the pieces of cloth in the bed box.
She was surprised when Nivan messaged her asking her to come to his cabin whenever she was free.
Rivanah went to him immediately.
 ‘Good morning, Rivanah,’ he said.
‘Hello, Nivan.’
‘Sorry to have disturbed you during work hours.’
‘Not a problem,’ she said and wondered if she should tell him about the pieces of cloth.
‘You look like you have something to share?’ Nivan said.
‘Actually, I stumbled upon some white pieces of cloth in my bed box.’
‘White cloth?’ Nivan looked interested.
‘Pieces of cloth with messages embroidered on them.’
‘That’s weird.’
Nivan clearly had no idea how those could have ended up in the bed box. Rivanah decided to drop
the matter and take it up on her own later.
‘Anyway, you called me. Anything important?’ she said.
‘Yes. I looked for the agreement which I had with the previous resident of the flat.’
You are a saviour, Nivan, Rivanah thought. ‘Thank you so much.’
Nivan picked up a document and gave it to Rivanah, saying, ‘Never mind. This is the agreement.
The tenant’s name is Ekansh Tripathi.’
Rivanah looked down at the name on the document. For a moment, her mind went blank. She
slowly lifted her face, still unable to think properly.
‘Your expression tells me you know the person.’
‘Umm . . .’ She felt her throat had dried up by then. ‘Not really,’ she lied.
‘Okay. He has a phone number if you can read it in the agreement. If you want you call him up and
talk about the sketch stand.’
There was no response from Rivanah.
‘Hello? Everything okay?’ Nivan said, leaning forward.
‘Yeah,’ Rivanah nodded, looking stumped. ‘Yeah, right. I’ll call him.’
‘Great.’
She took her leave. Back in her cubicle, Rivanah had only one question on her mind: when would
Ekansh Tripathi leave her life? She had deleted his number but it was still etched in her mind. She
matched it with the one in the agreement—they were the same. She dialled, but before it could
connect, Rivanah cut the call. She still wasn’t sure if she should give Ekansh another excuse to enter
her life. Especially since what happened the last time they met had altered her life drastically. She put
these thoughts away and dialled again. The call was answered on the third ring.
‘Hi, Rivanah. What’s up?’ he said in a formal tone.
That voice . . . that ‘Hi Rivanah’ . . . that ‘what’s up’ . . . they were like the evil chant of a witch to
crack open her box of memories, which had nothing but pain and suffering in the form of beautiful
snapshots of the past.
‘Did you ever live in the Residency Enclave, B wing, flat no. 1604?’
‘What?’
‘Please answer me.’
There was a pause.
 ‘I think so.’
‘Did you or did you not?’
‘I did. For some time when I . . .’ He stopped midway.
You were cheating on me. Rivanah completed his sentence in her mind.
‘But Tista once told me you lived in Navi Mumbai.’
‘That was after this. Why are you asking?’
Rivanah quickly checked the date on the agreement. The stay in the Residency Enclave was indeed
dated well before she had moved in with Tista.
‘Hello? You there, Rivanah?’ Ekansh said.
‘Please don’t ever take my name,’ she said and asked, ‘Did you keep a sketch stand in the flat?’
‘A sketch stand? I never used to sketch, you did. Why are you asking me all this? And what about
Danny? Is everything okay? Look, I’m really sorry for my behaviour that day.’
The mention of Danny’s name pushed her to remember how she had kissed Ekansh and sent the
picture of it to Danny. Disgust clouded her.
‘Yeah. All is fine. Bye.’ She cut the line. Ekansh called back. Rivanah ignored the call, and later
blocked the number. Whom should I trust? Ekansh? The guy who has already given me the biggest
reason in the past not to trust him? A dreaded thought occurred to her at that moment: what if Ekansh
was the Stranger? A mild headache hit her and she started massaging her forehead.
‘Hey, what happened? You okay?’ Smita enquired.
‘Nothing,’ Rivanah muttered. She somehow managed to get back to work.
In the evening, Rivanah left office later than usual. She called her parents and asked them to come
over to Red Box in Andheri itself. She met them downstairs, and together they went up to the
restaurant. Though she maintained a smile all through the dinner, there was too much on her mind for
her to enjoy. They were done in two hours and took an autorickshaw home. As they were about to
walk into the elevator, they bumped into Nivan. Greetings were exchanged. But Rivanah sensed
something wasn’t right about him. When she reached the sixteenth floor, she received a message from
Nivan: Come downstairs, please.
With a slight frown, Rivanah told her parents she would join them in few minutes and took the
elevator down. The moment she stepped out of the elevator, she noticed Nivan’s BMW right outside
the building. He was behind the wheel. She walked up to him, but before she could enquire, he said,
‘Get inside.’
Rivanah got in and asked, ‘What happened?’
Nivan pointed to something on the dashboard as he shifted the gear. Rivanah noticed there were
two Post-it notes stuck on it.
The first one read: I lied to you.
The one right beside it read: I’d kept the pieces of cloth in the books inside the bed box.
They had driven out of the Residency Enclave by then.
 25

Reading the two Post-it notes, Rivanah got goosebumps all over her body. She sat stiff as Nivan
drove the car rather unsteadily. Perhaps he too was unnerved by something. For the first few minutes,
Rivanah kept quiet, hoping Nivan would clarify what he meant when he said he kept the pieces of
cloth inside the bed. Was he the Stranger? It sounded absurd.
‘Could you please—’ she began, but Nivan grabbed her hand. She stopped. He moved his hand
from the gear and quickly stuck another Post-it on the dashboard. Rivanah looked down to realize he
had a bunch of those notes beside the gear. The note said: Sshhh.
Nivan stuck another one.
I have checked myself and the car. Are you sure you aren’t bugged? Just nod if you aren’t. Or
else, check.
Rivanah remembered how her dress had been once bugged by the Stranger. She tapped the edges of
her shirt, the sleeves, the shoulder, the buttons, the trouser and finally her footwear. Nothing seemed
suspicious. She nodded to Nivan. He put another note on the dashboard:
Don’t talk till I stop the car.
Nivan drove to the western express highway and then, paying the toll, entered the 7-km-long Worli
Sea Link. At night, the city skyline on both sides of the Sea Link made Mumbai look like a teenager’s
first love: too good to be real.
The car slowly came to a halt in the middle of the Sea Link. They both stepped out. Nivan went in
front of the car and opened the bonnet. Rivanah joined him.
‘Are you being pursued by someone?’ Nivan asked, without looking at her. She nodded hesitantly.
‘Same here,’ he muttered.
‘What do you mean?’ Rivanah said, as a breeze ruffled her hair. She tucked her hair behind her
ears. Nivan looked around and then, staring at the car’s engine in front of him, said, ‘Two years ago, it
started with a rather harmless note saying: Be ready, Nivan.’
The scene inside the Meru cab when she arrived in Mumbai for the first time flashed in her mind:
Be ready, Mini.
‘Then one message after another started coming in. Pieces of white cloth in which the messages
were embroidered in black thread.’
Nothing made sense to Rivanah.
‘I went to the police as well but it didn’t help. The person isn’t just a stalker. He made me do
weird things like . . .’
‘Like?’ Rivanah’s throat was dry.
 ‘Like . . .’ Nivan glanced at Rivanah and said, ‘Make sure you were employed in our company.’
While I was left with no other option but to seek your company out, Rivanah thought and said
aloud, ‘Do you mean you always knew who I was?’
‘You were just a name to me, and one of the tasks I was given by this . . .’
‘Stranger.’ Rivanah completed his sentence for him.
Nivan nodded.
‘And you had to do it?’ she asked.
Nivan nodded again. Just like she had to do what the Stranger wanted.
‘So I had kept the cloth pieces inside the bed box. Those were given to me. Did you get them as
well?’
‘Yes. I did,’ Rivanah said, matching Nivan’s soft tone. ‘But didn’t you try to find out who the
Stranger is or why he is pursuing you?’
‘I tried my best but couldn’t. I don’t even try to trace him any more. But I am sure my moves are
under observation,’ he said in a resigned tone.
Hence the Post-it notes, Rivanah thought and said, ‘Are you still in touch with the Stranger?’
‘I was never in touch with him. It was he who never left me.’
They fell silent.
‘I sensed it the day you came to my cabin and told me about the pieces of cloth. And tonight, I only
wanted to make sure if it was what I thought it was. That you too are a victim of this mysterious
frenemy, who coincidentally we both refer to as the Stranger,’ Nivan said as he closed the bonnet.
‘Let’s go back. Please don’t mention this conversation to the Stranger, in case you are in touch with
him.’
Rivanah nodded. As they got back inside the car, Rivanah was tempted to ask Nivan if he had a
personal secret because of which the Stranger was in his life—just like Hiya was her secret which
the Stranger wanted her to pursue. And whether his and her secrets have a link. Rivanah took one of
the Post-it notes. Nivan’s eyes followed Rivanah as she opened the glovebox. She found a pen and
immediately scribbled on the slip. She showed it to Nivan.
Is the Stranger making you seek some secret?
She sensed a tinge of discomfort on Nivan’s face as he stepped on the accelerator and murmured, ‘I
can’t tell you.’
Which means there is one, Rivanah concluded. She checked her phone which she had left inside
the car. There were five missed calls from her father’s number. She didn’t call back.
When Rivanah returned to her flat, her parents kept hounding her, enquiring where she had
disappeared. They stopped bothering her when she told them she was with Nivan. It seemed to make
them happy. But Rivanah wasn’t happy. After what Nivan had told her, she only had one priority now:
to find out about Hiya Chowdhury. That’s the link to the Stranger. And why would he involve Nivan in
the scheme of things? So many times she was on the verge of inquiring about Hiya—and the sketch—
to her parents, but she didn’t. If her parents were to tell her something, they would have done so by
now. She would have to find out in a different way.
 Retiring to her room, Rivanah put the sketch back on the sketch stand and kept staring at it. Was the
sketch the sole clue in the entire puzzle? On a hunch, she stood up, removed the sketch and stared at
the blank page on the stand. She took a deep breath and walked to her dressing table. She brought her
eye pencil and stood in front of the sketch stand once again. Letting her instinct take over, she started
sketching. When she was done, Rivanah’s sketch quite resembled the one that had been on the stand
earlier. It scared her, but she knew she was right. The sketch was a clue. She took a good picture of
the sketch and uploaded it on Facebook with a question: Whom does she resemble?
She kept refreshing the page but there came no likes or comments. Frustrated, she slumped on her
bed again. It was around 4.30 a.m. when her eyes opened suddenly. She checked her phone. There
was one comment on the picture. She immediately tapped on the notification. Someone by the name of
Binay Das had liked the picture and left a comment: Isn’t that our college-mate Hiya? And Rivanah
knew she was closer to unveiling the mystery than she had ever been. She left a message for Binay
asking him to call her on her number the moment he saw the message.
She couldn’t get much sleep that night. It was 8 a.m. when her phone rang.
‘Hi, this is Binay here. How are you doing, Rivanah? It has been so long. Where are you?’
She remembered Binay from college as someone who would take fifty words to say what could be
said in five.
‘Binay, don’t get me wrong, but I need to know something urgently. We will talk properly later.’
‘Sure. What happened?’
‘You commented on the picture I put up.’
‘That’s Hiya Chowdhury, right?’
‘What do you know about her?’
‘About Hiya? The usual, that she was our batch topper and the one who committed suicide.’
‘That’s it?’
‘And you two were fierce competitors.’
Just the kind of information I am looking for. ‘Anything else?’ she said.
‘Ummm. Can’t think of anything else right now. Why do you need to know about Hiya, all of a
sudden?’
‘Just like that.’
‘Okay. Where are you, by the way?’
‘Mumbai.’
‘Great, I’m in Pune. I can come down this weekend if you—’
‘I’m really busy this weekend, Binay. I’ll call when I’m free. You take care. Bye.’ She quickly cut
the line and blocked the number. She had no room in her life for guys who mistook her friendliness for
availability.
Rivanah now had two clues: she had sketched Hiya’s face again and again, and the two had been
fierce competitors in college. The fact that her father told her she used to sketch in school could well
be a lie. But why would this sketch and stand be in this flat? And a sketch stand was in the Krishna
Towers flat as well. Something told her she was there and yet not there.
‘Didn’t you sleep properly?’ her mother asked walking into her room.
 ‘Yes, I did. Let me go for a bath, Mumma. Need to go to office early today.’
Mrs Bannerjee sensed something was not all right.
‘You better be back early today,’ Mrs Bannerjee said, as her daughter entered the bathroom. ‘Your
baba and I are leaving tonight, remember?’
The latching of the bathroom door was the only response.
At work, Rivanah wrote down the supposed dots on a piece of paper. Telling Nivan about it
verbally could be risky. Writing it down was the best option—like they had done in the car the other
night.
Parents are hiding something . . . Hiya Chowdhury’s sketch in my flat . . . she’s my college-mate
who hanged herself . . . I was able to sketch her face even though I supposedly stopped sketching
long back . . . Hiya was my competition in college, but I don’t remember anything about her . . . in
fact, recently I forgot all about her, though I had gone to unearth the missing link in Kolkata . . .
father’s colleague—Mr Dutta—seems a shady character . . . Argho Chowdhury is Hiya’s cousin,
but I doubt he is involved in this. These are the dots which, I’m sure, lead somewhere. What do I
do? Please suggest.
Rivanah reread it and, once convinced she had written whatever she had in mind, went to Nivan’s
cabin. A look at her and Nivan knew it wasn’t an official visit. She quietly passed the note to him. He
read the note and seemed pensive for some time. Finally he wrote back on the paper:
Your past is in Kolkata. Don’t you think going there will take us closer to the mystery?
Rivanah read the note and then looked up at Nivan.
 26

‘You can ask Nivan to stay with us. Why else have we built so many rooms in our house? Only for
guests to come and stay,’ said Mr Bannerjee the moment Rivanah told them she and Nivan would be
returning with them to Kolkata on account of some office work.
‘Thanks for this, Nivan. I really needed someone to—’ Rivanah had told Nivan when he said he
would accompany her to Kolkata. He had cut her short and said, ‘There’s nothing to thank me for. You
forget that we both are victims. And my itch to know who this Stranger is just as strong as yours. He
made me manipulate your selection in the company. I really want to know how you and I are related.
If at all, that is.’
Rivanah could identify with Nivan’s sentiments. The fact that they were sailing in the same boat
gave her hope. Of late, she had been missing Danny. Or was she missing someone’s safety net around
her? Was it again the Cinderella Syndrome popping up like the psychiatrist had once told her? It was
worse that she couldn’t talk to the Stranger. It wasn’t the time to engage in any philosophical prattle
with him. It was time to end whatever shit he had been involving her in.
The Bannerjee family met Nivan after the security check in the airport. Mr Bannerjee was extra
talkative to him. Rivanah had requested her family not to ask Nivan to stay at their place because it
looked thoroughly unprofessional. Mrs Bannerjee, on the other hand, whispered to her daughter,
‘Mini, is something going on between you two?’
‘No, Mumma,’ Rivanah said and excused herself to go and fetch a Coke. Anything to avoid her
parents. This was something she had expected to happen. Nivan and the Bannerjee family split up and
went to their assigned seats after boarding. Rivanah’s parents fell asleep soon after take-off, while
Rivanah watched darkness fall outside the window. In a matter of just two years, she was done with
two guys—Ekansh and Danny—and now, suddenly, the rest of her life looked like those white balls of
cloud—empty. She felt an urge to cry but checked herself. She went to the lavatory and looked at
herself in the small mirror and wondered if she hadn’t really changed. Life had only dug out another
Rivanah from within her. Not Life, she corrected herself, there was another name for it—the
Stranger. Since she had come to Mumbai, her life had been all about him. She hoped this visit to
Kolkata would end the mystery. Rivanah was walking back to her seat when she heard her name. She
turned around and saw Nivan sitting in the last row. The entire row was empty. Rivanah gladly joined
him.
‘Did the Stranger get in touch?’ he asked.
‘Not after last time.’
‘I thought so. It only means we are following what he wants us to follow.’
 ‘I agree.’
‘I was wondering if you know anyone in Kolkata who would be able to give us any information
about Hiya Chowdhury.’
Rivanah thought for a minute and said, ‘Ishita, a friend of mine. She was the one who told me I’d
forgotten about Hiya suddenly.’
‘Hmm, okay. This forgetting part confused me, actually. How can a person forget something all of a
sudden, unless it is some sort of amnesia?’
‘I know. But the weirdest thing is, although I’d forgotten everything about Hiya, I remembered the
Stranger.’
Nivan’s eyes remained on Rivanah for some time as if he was trying to figure out what the reason
could be.
‘Anyway, we should meet your friend first,’ he said.
‘Sure.’
Rivanah soon joined her parents and found them still asleep. She didn’t wake them up lest they
probed her more about Nivan.
The flight landed on time. Nivan headed to ITC Sonar Bangla, while Rivanah and her parents took
a cab home. She couldn’t wait to call Ishita. Once home, Rivanah went straight to the terrace and
called her.
‘Hey babe, what’s up?’
Rivanah could hear loud music. ‘Go to a quieter place.’
‘Give me a second.’
As Rivanah held on, Ishita spoke a few seconds later.
‘Better?’
‘Much better. I’m in Kolkata.’
‘Cool. Let’s catch up tomorrow then?’
‘Yes. Can we catch up in the morning itself?’
‘I have to go to work, my dear.’
‘It’s urgent.’
Ishita thought for a second and said, ‘Can you come down to sector 5?’
‘I can come anywhere.’
‘Great. There’s a CCD near my office. Let’s meet there. 10?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘All fine?’
‘Almost fine. Let’s talk tomorrow.’
Rivanah then dialled Nivan’s number but had to end the call abruptly since she heard someone say
two words.
‘Hello, Mini.’
Rivanah looked towards the water tank which was not very well lit. She was sure the voice had
come from there. Fear written all over her face, Rivanah tried to locate the obvious source of the
voice.
 ‘How come you are here?’ she blurted.
‘I go wherever you go, Mini,’ the Stranger said. He was merely a voice coming out from
somewhere near the water tank. In a flash, Rivanah leapt towards the switchboard and pressed the
switch for the light above the water tank. Nothing happened—except, a lightbulb rolled towards her.
‘Try, try, try till you succeed,’ the voice said. Rivanah picked up the bulb cursing herself for
thinking she was smarter than the Stranger.
‘What do you want?’ she said.
‘I’m happy for you. Finally you are getting where I always wanted you to.’
‘Do you mean I’m close to finding the link between me and Hiya?’
‘I only say things. What I mean depends on how smartly you interpret my words, Mini.’
‘And when am I going to—’ Rivanah stopped as her phone flashed ‘Nivan calling’. She silenced
the call and continued, ‘When will I see who you really are?’
‘Trust me, knowing my identity isn’t going to help you in any way.’
‘Would it hurt you if I get to know you?’
‘Maybe.’
‘But this is unfair,’ Rivanah said. She waited for a response but there was none. Is he gone?
Rivanah took a few unsure steps towards the water tank and then walked more confidently. But there
was no sign of him. She was about to turn to leave when the Stranger leapt out of the darkness and
held her tightly from behind so she had her back to him, pressing her mouth with one hand while
grabbing both her wrists with another. She tried to free herself but he was too strong for her. Using his
thumb and index finger of the hand which was pressing her mouth he clipped her nose. Her entire
body was trying to break free but in vain. He appeared to be enjoying the fact that she was growing
more and more breathless by the second. Her resistance became even stronger, and she knew that if
she didn’t breathe in the next five to ten seconds, she would die. A mental countdown had begun. And
just when it reached 1, the Stranger released her. She inhaled as much oxygen as she could while the
Stranger whispered in her ears, ‘Remember this experience, Mini. I’ll tell you later why.’
As he released her, Rivanah sat down on her knees trying to catch her breath. She wanted to look
for the Stranger but felt stifled. She was sure the Stranger had disappeared by then. Her phone once
again flashed ‘Nivan calling’. She picked up.
‘Hey, did you get through to your friend?’
‘Yes.’ She was still gasping for air.
‘What happened?’ Nivan sounded concerned.
‘He was here.’
‘What? Are you all right?’
‘Now I am. Don’t worry.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He knows what we are looking for.’
‘We? He said that?’
‘No. He meant me, but I’m sure he knows.’ Rivanah finally stood up.
‘I’m sure too.’
 ‘Ishita will meet us tomorrow morning. I’ll message you the address.’
‘Okay. I’ll wait. You take care. See you.’
Rivanah heard her mother calling her downstairs. ‘Mini, what are you doing on the terrace?’
‘Mumma, a bulb on the terrace has fused. We need to replace it,’ Rivanah said and went
downstairs, the Stranger’s last words still echoing in her mind: I will tell you later why.
Next morning, Rivanah and Nivan took a cab to the CCD where Ishita was already waiting for her.
‘It’s lovely to see you, babes.’ Ishita hugged Rivanah immediately and then went slightly stiff
seeing Nivan.
‘Tell me he is your cousin and is here to bride-hunt,’ Ishita whispered in Rivanah’s ears. The latter
broke the hug with an amused face and said, ‘Ishita, meet Nivan, my senior at work.’ The two shook
hands. As Nivan sat down, he realized the girls were still standing. He excused himself and stood
back up.
‘Please excuse us,’ Rivanah said as Ishita pulled her towards the washroom. The moment they
entered, Ishita asked, ‘Is he your—’
‘No! Though I didn’t tell you I’m single now.’
‘You are fucking Nivan?’
‘Shut up, no!’
‘What happened with Danny?’
‘Same thing that happened with Ekansh. Life! We broke up because of my alleged infidelity.’
‘What the fuck! Seriously?’
Rivanah nodded.
‘And what exactly is Nivan doing here with you?’
Rivanah took two minutes to fill her in.
‘Hmm. Everything is so twisted. Do give me your kundali after this.’
‘Huh?’
‘I want to know what kind of planetary position a girl needs to first have a hot guy like Danny and
now a sex god.’
Rivanah smirked and with a tinge of sarcasm in her voice said, ‘Oh, I too want to know that
because every one of them slips out of my grasp.’
The girls came out of the washroom. They ordered their coffee after which Rivanah put it straight
to Ishita, ‘Just tell us what happened after we returned from Hiya’s house last time.’
‘Okay.’ Ishita took a deep breath as if she was recollecting all of it correctly in her mind and then
said, ‘Your mother called a few times after which you said you had to accompany your parents to
meet one of your father’s colleagues. We guessed they wanted you and this colleague’s son to get
hitched. Then I guess you went there. I went with my colleagues for an outing where there was no
phone network. I came back two days later, and when I called you back seeing your missed call alert
and inquired if you had unearthed something about Hiya, you surprised the shit out of me by asking
who Hiya was.’
Nivan glanced at Rivanah once and then looking at Ishita said, ‘That’s weird. How can Rivanah
forget someone just like that?’
 ‘This isn’t the only weird thing that happened. I was pretty sure I had accompanied my parents to
Mr Dutta’s house.’
‘Obviously, the two are connected. But how?’ A couple of seconds later, Nivan asked, ‘Who
exactly is this Mr Dutta?’
‘Manick Dutta is Baba’s colleague.’
‘Have you met him before?’ Ishita asked.
‘No.’
‘And what exactly happened at his place? Do you remember?’ Nivan asked.
‘I went there, talked to him, all the while feeling sleepy. Then he suggested I take a nap. I was
reluctant but my mother insisted as well. So I went to his bedroom only to doze off. And when I woke
up, I was in my bedroom. Later, when I asked Baba, he said we were supposed to go to Mr Dutta’s
place but it was cancelled at the last moment.’
‘You are scaring me,’ Ishita said. They became quiet. Ishita’s phone broke the silence. She took the
call and, a few seconds later, told Rivanah, ‘I’m sorry, but I have to go to office now. I’ll call the
moment I’m free today. Take care.’ Ishita stood up.
‘It was nice meeting you, Nivan,’ she added, before hurrying out.
‘We can trust Ishita, right?’ Nivan asked.
‘Oh yes. She knows everything.’
‘Hmm. We have to pursue this mysterious Mr Dutta you mentioned.’
‘I had messaged him on my father’s behalf. And he asked if I was all right.’
‘All right? You ask that if someone has had an accident or . . . if they are suffering from something.’
Rivanah had no clue what to say.
‘Tell me something,’ Nivan said, ‘Is there anyone who might know everything about you for, let’s
say, a week, before and after Hiya’s death? Not your parents. Like someone who was always there
with you in college as well.’
Rivanah didn’t have to think hard for this one. The name was clear in front of her: Ekansh Tripathi.
How many times would she promise herself not to go to Ekansh and how many times would she have
to break it?
 27

The next morning, Rivanah considered several times before calling up Ekansh. She had blocked him,
deleted his number and yet he kept reappearing in her life like an unwanted necessity. It showed her
just how much their past was intertwined. And there was no way she could undo it. The best way,
Rivanah decided, was to pretend there was no past. Holding on to this thought, she typed Ekansh’s
number on her dialler and called him. She would finish it over phone and be done with it.
The number you have called has been temporarily suspended, an automated voice said in
Marathi.
What the fuck, Rivanah lamented. She typed a message, both on WhatsApp and SMS, and sent them
to his number, hoping he read it. Morning turned to afternoon with no response from Ekansh. In the
evening, Nivan called her.
Rivanah told him about Ekansh Tripathi, and Nivan enquired if he was the same person who had
stayed in his flat before her. When she replied in the affirmative, it piqued Nivan’s interest
immediately. And he was sure Ekansh would prove to be an asset in their quest though Rivanah tried
to convince him he was nothing but an ass.
‘Did you get through to him?’
‘Not yet. His phone is temporarily suspended.’
‘And there’s no other way of getting in touch with him?’
‘There is . . .’ Rivanah knew she could call Ekansh’s parents and get in touch with him. But . . .
‘Did you try the alternative way?’
Rivanah wanted to say she wasn’t interested, but Nivan didn’t know of her past with Ekansh except
for the fact he had been a good friend in college. And there was no reason why he should know
anything else now.
‘Give me two minutes. I’ll call you back,’ Rivanah said and cut the line. She remembered Ekansh’s
landline number as well. She cursed herself for remembering every inconsequential thing about him.
Perhaps girls are like that, she concluded, they remember the so-called unimportant details of a
relationship much more than guys do. She called on the landline which was answered on the fourth
ring.
‘Hello aunty, this is Rivanah here.’
The response came after a long pause, ‘Hello, Rivanah.’
‘I wasn’t able to get through to Ekansh. Do you have any number where I can reach him? It’s
important.’
Rivanah heard Ekansh’s mother move away from the receiver and call out to Ekansh.
 ‘Hello?’
‘Ekansh?’
‘Rivanah?’
‘What the hell are you doing in Kolkata?’ she asked, and knew how weird it sounded. He could be
in Timbuktu, for God’s sake. How does it matter?
‘I left my job.’
‘Oh!’
‘Where are you? How come you are calling me on my landline?’
‘I’m in Kolkata. I called you on your Mumbai number but—’
‘Yeah, I cancelled that number. Do you want to meet up?’
No, I want to finish it on phone, she thought but said, ‘Okay, we’ll keep it short.’
‘If you want it short, it will be short.’
Why is he suddenly so friendly? Especially after the frivolous treatment she had been giving
him?
‘Coffee house?’ he asked.
‘Okay. In an hour.’
‘Done.’
Rivanah cut the line and messaged Nivan saying she was meeting Ekansh shortly and would call
Nivan once done.
Rivanah reached the Coffee House on time; Ekansh was already there. Was it a coincidence that he
had chosen the same corner where they sat whenever they bunked college? She gave him a tight smile
before sitting down opposite him.
‘How is everything between Danny and you?’ Ekansh asked.
Rivanah looked around and said, ‘All’s fine.’ She wasn’t going to give him a reason to feel he had
a space in her life.
‘Good,’ he said.
She could sense sadness in his voice.
‘I left my job and Mumbai too. I’ll be at home for some time, figure out what I really want to do in
life and then perhaps . . .’
‘Hmm. That’s nice.’
‘I miss Tista.’
Rivanah had decided she wouldn’t let him use his guilt as bait to fish her guilt out. She intentionally
pretended his last sentence didn’t mean much to her.
‘I want you to tell me something, Ekansh. And tell me honestly.’
‘Is that why we are meeting now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay, tell me, what is it?’
‘You remember Hiya Chowdhury?’
He thought for a second and said, ‘Yes, I do. You have asked me about her earlier too.’
‘I know. She hanged herself a day before Tech Sky came to recruit on campus.’
 ‘I remember that too.’
‘I want you to tell me if you noticed anything odd about me from that day onwards.’
‘Odd?’ Ekansh seemed lost in thoughts. He spoke after some time, ‘I think all was normal. You had
gone on a vacation with your family for a month or so.’
‘A month? Where?’
‘What do you mean where? It was Leh and Ladakh, don’t you remember?’
Leh and Ladakh. Rivanah had never seen any photographs of that vacation nor had any memory of
it. Assuming she had made it to the vacation in the first place.
‘Did I ever show you any pictures?’
Ekansh frowned and said, ‘Why are you talking like you are an amnesia patient?’
Rivanah didn’t react.
‘I asked you for pictures, but you never showed me any,’ Ekansh said.
‘So, I was away for a month and then I was back and everything was normal?’
‘You only went with your family for a vacation. It is normal anyway.’
Rivanah was thoughtful.
‘Were we in touch when I was in Leh and Ladakh?’
‘There was no network in your phone.’
‘Which means we were out of touch.’
‘Totally.’
Neither spoke for some time. Rivanah tried to fit in the information Ekansh had given her with
whatever she knew of Hiya, but it didn’t make sense: Hiya’s death and her vacation—two seemingly
unrelated incidents. So many students must have gone on vacations at that time. So what? But what
kept her suspicions alive was the fact she didn’t remember the vacation.
Ekansh snapped a finger to break Rivanah’s trance. ‘I think you are hiding something.’
Rivanah gave him a sharp glance and said, ‘It’s nothing. Thanks, Ekansh, for meeting up. I’ll have
to leave now.’ She stood up. Ekansh grasped her hand rather impulsively. They looked into each
other’s eyes. Hers seemed to ask why and his why not. He let go of the grasp and asked, ‘How long
are you here in Kolkata?’
‘I’m flying to Mumbai later tonight,’ she lied and added genuinely, ‘Stay well and take care. I miss
Tista too.’ Rivanah put her bag over her shoulder and walked off.

Nivan had been putting up in room no. 510 at the ITC Sonar Bangla. And though he had asked her if
she wanted to meet outside, it was Rivanah who told him she wanted to be away from the noise and
people for some time. She needed a quiet place to analyse the dots now that Ekansh had given her a
new one—her supposed Leh and Ladakh family vacation.
‘You want a tablet?’ Nivan asked, noticing Rivanah rubbing her forehead as she settled on the
couch in his suite.
‘Perhaps some water,’ she said.
Nivan brought her a bottle of water from the mini fridge.
‘Thanks,’ she said, taking a sip.
 ‘What did Ekansh tell you?’
Rivanah took a minute to recount everything.
‘So according to him, you tagged along with your parents to Leh and Ladakh, but you say you have
no memory of it nor photographs to support it.’
‘That’s correct. Nor have I heard my parents ever mention it.’
‘And you are confident Ekansh won’t lie to you?’
Rivanah looked at Nivan. ‘Why would he?’
‘Okay. So after Ekansh, the two parties whom we should approach are Mr Dutta and—’
‘And?’
‘Hiya’s parents. I remember, Ishita mentioned you two had gone to her place after the convocation.’
The mention of Hiya’s parents brought back memories of the crazy-looking woman she had seen at
her place and Hiya’s worried-looking father. And yet she had forgotten only about Hiya and not her
parents. What. The. Fuck.
‘By comparing what Ekansh, Mr Dutta and Hiya’s parents tell us, we can hope to get a solid lead.’
‘Right.’ Rivanah understood Nivan had a point. Nivan’s phone, kept at the centre of the glass table,
rang and vibrated at the same time. The vibration swirled the phone towards her. Before Nivan could
pick it up, Rivanah saw the name—Advika. Nivan excused himself and went to the other end of the
room where the window was. As he stood there talking over the phone, Rivanah already had her
questions ready for him. Nivan came back a couple of minutes later.
‘Who is Advika?’ she asked.
Nivan paused before settling on the couch again.
‘I’m sorry if I’m being too personal,’ she said.
‘Advika is my girlfriend.’
‘That’s nice to know,’ Rivanah said, knowing well Nivan must have guessed from her tone that she
meant the opposite.
‘What happened to her?’ She had to ask something before the air turned too awkward between
them.
Nivan reclined on the couch and set his gaze on the ceiling.
‘Remember you asked me if I had a secret?’
Which you didn’t tell me, Rivanah remembered clearly. ‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Advika and I dated for five years and have been living together for seven.’ Nivan was still staring
at the ceiling. ‘We met for the first time at a friend’s birthday party after my higher-secondary exams.
She had just passed her high school then. I remember she simply stood in one corner with a smile, not
knowing I had my eyes on her all the time. I found her quietness amidst the party cacophony so very
attractive. I can never forget that face . . . that moment. That evening, something unprecedented
happened: I fell for a girl for the first time in my life. And it led me to do something I had never done
before. I proposed to her by the time the party ended. She was so scandalized that she simple
scampered away without saying anything. I became the butt of my friends’ jokes. Then two days later,
Advika got my number from a common friend and said yes to me on the phone. I never asked her why
she took two days’ time. All she told me was that, for her, I was the first. And I hope she knows that,
for me, she is the last.’ Nivan had a nostalgic smile on his face.
‘Advika was always a non-confronting kind of girl, never found faults in others. It always
surprised me. Actually, she’d always lived a protected life, never facing the harsh world ever, which
ensured she had a pure heart. But it was not a practical one. During her college days, I used to pick
her up from her house every day. The way she held on to me tightly every time I raced my bike
amused me. And I did it on purpose most of the times.’ The nostalgic smile on his face stretched at
this point. He stood up and went to pick up his wallet from the table beside the television. He flipped
it open, and staring at something inside said, ‘Every touch of yours is a memory, each memory is an
orgasm, each orgasm hides a realization and the realizations leads me to self-discovery.’ He closed
the wallet and came back to where he was sitting.
‘It was something she had written for me after our first year together. I have kept it with me ever
since. You know what, if I have to tell you about Advika in one line, she is a girl who never lost her
innocence.’
Rivanah felt like she was hearing an excerpt from a romance novel. It sounded incredible and yet it
urged Rivanah to believe it with her heart. The depth of a man’s love, she realized while listening to
Nivan, was evident in the way he reminisces about his girl.
‘Advika was afraid of speed. She would never sit on a roller coaster. She always took her own
sweet time to cross a busy road. Every time we took a flight, she would clasp my hand hard before
take-off and while landing. That was also why she never learnt driving. I used to tease her about it,
because speed was something that gave me a kick. Though I used to push her to learn driving, which
she eventually did, Advika never really drove.’ There was a pause akin to the one which usually
preceded a storm.
‘It was the fourteenth of April four years back, when we had planned to go for a movie at night. I
was at work, and I had not brought my car that day. So, for a change, I wanted her to come over to the
office and pick me up. She kept telling me we could take a cab, but I was adamant. After all, if one
doesn’t drive then how does one overcome this fear? I simply wanted her to confront her fear.’ Nivan
was suddenly quiet.
‘And?’
Nivan’s eyes fell upon Rivanah but he looked away quickly.
‘She gave in to my stubbornness, drove but, before she could reach my office, met with an accident.
A drunkard had hit her car. She injured her spine. The result of it,’ his voice turned heavy as he
completed, ‘is for you to see.’
Rivanah was at a loss for words. There was a prolonged silence.
‘I’m not going to marry her,’ Nivan said, sounding choked.
Rivanah frowned.
‘If I marry her,’ he continued, ‘People will make me believe that I’m with Advika because she is
my responsibility. It would be my duty as a husband to be by her side. But, to be honest, Advika is
neither my responsibility nor my duty. Advika is my choice. And when you choose someone, you are
by default embracing all the consequences the choice may bring along.’
 Rivanah tried to understand what Nivan was telling her, putting her life in context. Here was a man
whose conviction in his love was so strong that it eclipsed the impossibility of it going the distance.
Of course, Advika was an invalid now in every sense of the word, and yet this man sitting in front of
Rivanah was confident of spending a lifetime with her. As if the tryst of destiny couldn’t touch his
love. As if fate was irrelevant. The realization of the existence of such a powerful love story made
her feel empty. It made her feel jealous of Advika. And it made her feel insignificant too. She always
wanted to be one such choice of one such man—neither responsibility nor duty, as Nivan had put it.
She was happy to know such men existed, but they were the rarest of rare. And the one sitting in front
of her was already taken.
‘Life’s unpredictable,’ Nivan said, ‘but if you don’t stand by your choice, it will become
incorrigible too. That’s what the Stranger told me once.’ He looked at Rivanah who was blank.
‘What happened?’
Rivanah shook her head and said, ‘I think I’ll go home. Let’s catch up tomorrow. I shall ask Ishita
to join us.’
‘All right.’ Nivan looked thoughtful.
Rivanah took a cab. She was feeling dazed. Never before had she coveted someone’s life like she
now coveted Advika’s. She felt an unprecedented urge to snatch Nivan away from her, to cast an evil
spell so Nivan would get lured to her, would make her his choice, and make her feel everything that
he made Advika feel.
With that one confession, Nivan had raised her expectations of men. When Danny broke up with
her, he had given her reasons to abhor men and think of them as beings who would never understand
the complexity of a woman. But Nivan pushed those reasons into insignificance and convinced her in
no time to still be hopeful in a hopeless way. And it was the worst space to be in—to see someone
like a horizon, visible but not attainable. What is it which decides who deserves whom? On the verge
of having an emotional breakdown, Rivanah messaged the Stranger:
I seriously need to talk. Please tell me you are there.
A few seconds later the Stranger replied:
At your house, Mini?
Rivanah made a mad dash for her house.
 28

Rivanah called up her parents on the way, fearing their life may be in danger. But they both were in
New Market, shopping. They told her they would be back by evening, and asked her to take the spare
key from their neighbour. Rivanah didn’t let them get a whiff of her anxiety. The cab dropped her right
in front of her house, and she went to the neighbour to collect the spare key. The neighbour wanted to
chat, but Rivanah cut her short and walked up to the main door of her house and, looking around,
slowly unlocked it. She peeped in first and then stepped in. She could smell It’s Different by Hugo
Boss in the air.
‘You there?’ The drawing room was filled with darkness since all the curtains, she noticed, were
drawn. She had never been so scared to enter her own house before.
‘Close the door, Mini,’ a voice commanded.
Rivanah shut the door behind her trying to identify where the voice had come from.
‘Take a seat.’
Now she knew where the voice was coming from. Behind the refrigerator, she could see the
silhouette of the upper half of someone’s head as the head rested on folded hands atop the refrigerator.
The Stranger’s figure was hidden by the refrigerator. Rivanah didn’t move for some time, while
calculating what her next move should be.
‘Take a seat, Mini,’ the Stranger repeated. She went to the sofa and saw a blindfold and a handcuff
on it. She knew what was expected of her, but was it necessary? She was about to object when she
heard him speak again.
‘You move, I move out. You shout or run, you lose me. You don’t listen to me, this meeting is over.’
Damn you, she thought and put on the blindfold first and then locked her hands with the handcuff.
‘Happy?’ she said.
‘More than ever, Mini. Tell me, what do you want to talk about?’
‘I’ll be honest. Nivan told me how you were after him like the way you have been after me.’
‘I guessed that.’
‘Nivan also confessed to me about Advika.’
‘So?’
‘It made me realize that deep down I have always desired a man like Nivan. He is the
personification of my idea of the man. Also, until today, I always thought I deserved a man like this.
But do I really deserve someone like Nivan? If not, then why not? I want to know my flaw and rectify
it because I’m sick and tired of the hypocrite men I have had in my life. One more and I’ll kill him.’
Her angst mixed with envy made the Stranger smile.
 ‘Do we deserve someone or not is a question that can’t be answered. It’s essentially a rhetorical
question. But what can be answered is why you had the ones you had.’
‘Why did I have Ekansh? Why did I fall for Danny?’
‘Just like you were meant to love them genuinely, Ekansh and Danny were not meant to understand
that genuineness of yours. Have you ever thought of looking at it this way: both Ekansh and Danny
probably weren’t meant to be in a committed relationship with you? Maybe it was your
misinterpretation of it. Whoever comes in and walks out of our life always has a role to perform. We
simply don’t see it that way. Ekansh’s and Danny’s roles were to make you realize that people may
claim they love you, but at certain moments of truth, it is proved that their love is superficial. Nivan’s
role is to make you not give up on love in the first place.’
‘Will I be a bad girl if I tell you I want Nivan, knowing well he is committed for life? I know it
started with him being a silly crush of mine, but today he has shaken my core. I feel like I have wasted
my life seeking the kind of love Nivan has for Advika in Ekansh and Danny.’
The Stranger was quiet as Rivanah tried wiping the tears from under the blindfold with her
handcuffed hands.
‘Why are you sad, Mini?’
‘I’m sad because after all this time that you have been asking me to know my worth—and I have
probably known my worth to some extent—it still doesn’t make me eligible enough to deserve
Nivan.’
‘You know, Mini, the toughest kind of acceptance is when we have to accept that there are certain
things in life which can’t be ours—no matter how hard we try. It’s called growing up, Mini. It’s
difficult—very, very difficult, but inevitable nevertheless. Worse, growing up doesn’t only happen as
we turn eighteen. Growing up happens as our soul keeps swallowing these depressing acceptances
little by little, one at a time. For no acceptance can happen overnight. It’s a bit-by-bit process. The
way a patient is given saline. If you try to accept the fact that Nivan can’t be yours right at this
moment, you will destroy yourself further.’
Neither spoke for a long time. Rivanah took her time to get a grip on her emotional self.
She felt a hand cupping her face. She sensed the Stranger was standing right beside her.
‘The surgery will soon be over. And any surgery without anaesthesia will cause pain. Just hold on
for some more time, Mini. It’ll all be worth it. Trust me.’ His words made no sense to Rivanah.
‘What do you mean?’ Rivanah said, looking up. She felt something being thrust in her hand. It was
the key to the handcuff. She immediately unlocked herself, removed the blindfold to see an empty
drawing room. The curtains had been drawn open and there was light pouring in.
The doorbell rang. Her parents had come back. She quickly stood up and shoved the blindfold and
the handcuff into an empty drawer nearby. Her parents had purchased some clothes for her from New
Market, but she wasn’t interested in trying them out. Making an excuse of missing old times, Rivanah
opened all the family photo albums, but found no pictures from her Leh—Ladakh trip. She couldn’t
ask her parents about it, now that she was slowly beginning to understand there was indeed something
they were hiding from her. In the evening, she called Ishita and told her to keep herself free the next
day. They would have to visit Hiya’s place again.
 The next day Rivanah accompanied Ishita and Nivan to Hiya’s place in Agarpara. Nivan insisted
only Ishita accompany him. Since they didn’t know yet how Rivanah and Hiya were connected, it was
better—or so Nivan thought—to keep Rivanah away from Hiya’s parents.
As the two went inside, Rivanah went to a tea stall nearby and waited for them there. They came
out after an hour. Rivanah strode across the road to them the moment they came out of Hiya’s house.
‘What happened?’
‘Hiya Chowdhury had a little brother as well,’ Ishita said, gloomily.
‘How is he related to me?’ Rivanah asked, looking at Ishita and then at Nivan.
‘Let’s talk in the car,’ he said.
Ishita sat quietly sitting with Rivanah in the back seat of the car they had come in, while Nivan sat
beside the driver. They all were silent until Rivanah chose to speak.
‘What happened? What about the little brother?’
‘Hiya’s little brother had some kidney problem for which he needed dialysis. Her father had
exhausted every bit of his savings on it, and Hiya’s getting into Tech Sky was their only hope of
continuing with the dialysis,’ Nivan said.
‘So that’s why she hanged herself?’ Rivanah asked.
‘We don’t know that yet. Mr Chowdhury showed us the pieces of white cloth Hiya had received,
which means the Stranger was behind her as well. Whether he pushed her to hang herself or she did it
on her own discretion is hard to say.’
Rivanah knew that any conclusion about the Stranger would be useless. His last words though—the
surgery is about to get over soon—sounded dangerously loaded.
‘Now only the third link is left—Mr Dutta,’ Nivan said.
‘Do we approach him today?’ Ishita asked.
‘Today itself,’ Nivan said, and turned to look at Rivanah, ‘Did you do it?’
Before going to bed the previous night, Nivan had asked Rivanah to message Mr Dutta from her
father’s phone and fix an appointment somewhere outside, as if it was her father who wanted to meet
him. Rivanah did what was asked of her.
‘Mr Dutta will meet my father at 3 p.m. at Mio Amore in Russel Street.’
‘Your father?’ Ishita was surprised.
‘For Mr Dutta, it is my father meeting him,’ Rivanah said. Ishita understood.
They reached Mio Amore before time. Nivan and Ishita took a table, and Rivanah sat at another,
with her back to the entrance. Her presence would be announced only when the time was right.
Mr Dutta reached the place shortly after three. He took a table and told the waiter that he was
waiting for a friend and would place his order once the friend arrived. Nivan, who kept an eye on
every single man entering the place, worked on his instinct as he stood up and went to Mr Dutta.
‘Mr Dutta, isn’t it?’
‘Yes?’ Mr Dutta looked up at Nivan.
‘Hi, I am Nivan.’ He shook hands with him. This was a cue for Ishita to join them.
‘What is this about?’ Mr Dutta asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
 ‘This is about a friend of ours,’ Nivan said, taking a seat and helping Ishita to settle down beside
him.
‘Which friend?’
‘Rivanah Bannerjee.’
For a moment, Mr Dutta seemed slightly taken aback but he quickly regained composure.
‘I still don’t understand this.’
‘I’m sure you remember me, uncle?’ It was Rivanah who stood up from the table nearby and joined
the lot.
‘We don’t mean any harm,’ Nivan clarified. ‘We just want to know what happened the day Rivanah
visited you with her parents.’
‘But I’m not supposed to divulge information related to my patients to anyone,’ Mr Dutta said, and
immediately knew he had given a hint already.
‘Patients?’ Rivanah frowned.
‘Mr Dutta, if Rivanah is your patient, then you don’t have the right to hide anything from her, at
least. Am I right?’ Nivan said.
Mr Dutta understood they wouldn’t take anything short of the truth. He drank some water from the
glass in front of him, and said, ‘Okay, I’ll tell you everything. I knew it had to come out one day. But
will you be able to handle it?’ He was looking at Rivanah.
 29

‘I don’t have a choice any more, uncle. Nobody can escape their own story, can they?’ Rivanah
appeared calm.
Mr Dutta seemed to understand what she meant. All three were waiting for him to speak.
‘Rivanah was brought to me by her parents almost a year and a half ago,’ Mr Dutta said, ‘I could
see it in her eyes then that she needed medical treatment. But her parents said they were done with
medicine and doctors. Her mother especially was hysterical about losing her daughter. She had heard
about me from a distant relative, I think. I calmed her down before focussing on Rivanah. She was
acutely restless and seemed like she hadn’t slept in a long time. The kind of profession I’m in, I get all
kinds of patients, but looking at Rivanah I realized she was more a victim of acute remorse, more than
anything else. At first I had to calm her down to know exactly what the problem was. All she kept
repeating was “I killed someone”.’
Rivanah swallowed. She knew Ishita had glanced at her but she was too shocked to return the
glance. Nivan was calmly looking at Mr Dutta as the latter continued.
‘I asked her whom have you killed and she took a name—Hiya Chowdhury. Her parents clarified
that nothing of that sort had happened. Confused, I took her to my room, my work station, where I
induced her into deep sleep through hypnosis.’ Mr Dutta looked at Rivanah and said, ‘I’m a
professional hypnotist.’
There was a silence gravid with inquisitiveness.
‘I understand your doubts. Hypnosis may not be talked about much socially, but a lot of people use
it in their everyday life. A lot of my patients have used it to forgo labour pain during childbirth.
Especially the ones who are adamant to go without a caesarean. Lot of patients also use hypnosis to
counter guilt. Though I would agree that there are very few genuine hypnotists left.’
‘What happened next, Mr Dutta?’ Nivan asked.
‘After the induction of deep sleep, Rivanah started talking to me, giving away whatever she had
been hiding in her conscious and her subconscious self. I learned that Rivanah and Hiya were fierce
competitors in college. In fact, Rivanah told me she’d never accepted it openly, but was actually
jealous of Hiya for scoring higher than her in every semester examination. I remember I’d asked you
to name one thing which irked you the most about Hiya. And you’d said it was her laughter. You
thought it had a mocking tinge to it.’
Rivanah remembered how the Stranger had set Hiya’s laughter as the doorbell sound.
‘Over time, the jealousy turned into a grudge as if Hiya had deliberately scored higher to put
Rivanah down—or so Rivanah came to believe. Belief isn’t as simple a thing as we think it is. It can
eclipse a lot of things from your sight. Anyway, the year in concern was different, since there were
job cuts and economic slowdown all over, and only one IT MNC was scheduled to visit Rivanah’s
college campus—Tech Sky. The company was supposed to recruit ten students but not from one
college. They were supposed to visit ten colleges and pick one student from each. There were
protests against the recruitment manager but all of it came to nothing. Rivanah knew that if they could
only select one candidate, it would be Hiya since she was the brightest in her batch. And she had to
beat her once and for all to show who the best was.
‘Two nights before, Rivanah bought some over-the-counter sleeping pills, searched on Google for
the amount needed to make someone sleep for long but not kill, and experimented on herself. She had
the pills at 8.30 p.m. and then woke up around 1 p.m. the next day, having slept like a log throughout.
Her plan was convincing and would not raise any doubt. Do we blame someone if we oversleep
suddenly one day? It was too casual a thing to seem suspicious—or so she thought. The night before
Tech Sky was supposed to visit the college for recruitment, Rivanah was ready to implement her
experiment for real.’ Mr Dutta glanced at Rivanah. A teardrop rolled down her cheek. He averted his
eyes to Nivan; he knew he wouldn’t be able to continue otherwise.
‘Rivanah called for a group study session to exchange notes at one of their batchmate’s room in the
college girl’s hostel. There were four girls in total who met that night in the hostel room: Rivanah,
Meera, Hiya and Pooja. The last one was Rivanah’s best friend in college, or so I was told by her
parents later. The four girls discussed possible questions for the impending interview until very late
in the night, and next morning went to the college for the exam and interview. Except one—Hiya. She
didn’t wake up on time and was left behind in the hostel room. And by the time she woke up, Tech
Sky had already selected their quota of one candidate from the college: Rivanah Bannerjee.’
Nobody spoke for a minute. Rivanah had her face half covered with a hand as if she might die if
she saw anyone looking at her.
‘What happened to Hiya?’ Ishita asked.
‘Hiya had overslept. Unknown to her, Rivanah had mixed sleeping pills in her coffee the night
before; the same number of pills—not enough to kill her but make her sleep longer than desired.
Rivanah’s parents told me later that Hiya hanged herself to death. This was the trigger to Rivanah’s
emotional breakdown.’
‘And what did you do to Rivanah? How come she never remembered all this?’ Ishita asked.
‘Something which I do only in rare and extreme cases. With deep hypnosis, one can push one’s
memories from the conscious to the deep subconscious. Some people call it erasing memory as well,
but technically it’s never totally erased. It is there in the subconscious and can manifest itself in the
form of dreams.’
And nightmares . . . Rivanah thought but didn’t say anything aloud.
‘Because it’s a part of you. Or sometimes it can also manifest itself in creative endeavours like
writing or,’ Mr Dutta glanced at Rivanah and continued, ‘sketching.’
‘You mean the sketches you drew were of . . .’ Ishita said and saw Rivanah nodding gently.
‘This was why your parents brought you to me the last time. They were petrified when they
discovered you had sketched Hiya Chowdhury’s face. They feared you would know the truth again
and probably go berserk the way you had done for that one month. It was an emotionally taxing time
not only for you, but your parents too.’
One month . . . when she was supposed to be on vacation to Leh and Ladakh with her parents . . .
Rivanah was joining the dots in her mind.
‘I had to push whatever you came to know about Hiya into your deep subconscious once again.
That’s why you forgot everything related to her quite abruptly,’ Mr Dutta said. A waiter came and
asked if they wanted to order anything. Mr Dutta shook his head and said to Rivanah, ‘But I have a
question which I had asked your father too, but he had no answer. How come you knew about Hiya
Chowdhury once again? I understand about the sketching, but what propelled you to realize there’s a
Hiya in the first place? I mean you are my only patient who has backtracked like this on my hypnosis.
And, trust me, I have treated a lot of patients in the thirty years of my career.’
Rivanah glanced at Nivan to know if she should tell him about the Stranger.
‘It was from a sketch which one of her friends identified as Hiya. It made her curious, one thing led
to another and here we are.’ Nivan quickly came to the rescue.
‘Hmm. That’s it?’
‘That’s it,’ Nivan said conclusively.
Mr Dutta had nothing more to say. He took his leave, wishing Rivanah the best and offered his help
if she needed it. Rivanah was as if in a trance, but did have a request for Mr Dutta.
‘Please don’t tell any of this to my parents,’ she said.
‘I won’t, if you promise me you won’t let whatever I told you break you.’
Rivanah nodded. How much further could she break? She went out with Nivan and Ishita to where
the car was waiting for them.
‘I’ll have to leave you guys here since my boss needs me in office,’ said Ishita
‘We can drop you,’ Nivan said.
‘I think Rivanah needs to be home now,’ Ishita said. Nivan agreed. Ishita hugged Rivanah but the
latter didn’t feel the hug.
‘Be strong. What has happened has happened. We all commit mistakes. I’ll be in touch.’ Ishita went
away towards an auto. Both Nivan and Rivanah climbed into their cab. The driver was asked to take
them to Rivanah’s place.
‘No. The hotel,’ she said. Nivan gave her a short glance and then nodded at the driver.
It was a quiet drive. Rivanah took Nivan’s hand in hers, surprising him. While looking out of the
window, away from Nivan, she started sobbing profusely. Nivan immediately asked the driver to park
the car in a lonely lane. The driver was asked to wait outside the car. The moment the driver locked
the door, Rivanah turned to look at Nivan.
‘How can I be such a bitch?’ she said. ‘Just to show I was the best, I ended up taking someone’s
life?’
‘You didn’t intend to take her life. You wanted to secure a job for yourself.’ A pause later he added,
‘Just like I wanted Advika to conquer her fear and pick me up that night.’ Nivan sighed and said, ‘I
too didn’t intend her to become an invalid for the rest of her life.’
 With teary eyes she looked up at Nivan and said, ‘Even if I hadn’t planned to kill Hiya, I had
spiked her coffee in a cold-blooded manner. I was the trigger.’
‘It’s unbelievable how a seemingly small decision of ours can proliferate into our worst
nightmare.’
‘Did she really kill herself because she couldn’t get the job?’
‘I’ve a feeling this is only half the story.’
‘Who would tell us the other half?’ Rivanah shot an inquiring look at him.
‘The one who pushed you to this half,’ Nivan said. And she knew whom Nivan was hinting at.
 30

It was a quiet drive to the hotel. The revelations had left Rivanah speechless. How do you accept
such an acidic self of yours that you didn’t even know existed so far? There was a cold-blooded
killer buried inside her. With this realization she had lost the right to question anyone on anything.
Ekansh had only ditched her, Danny had only misunderstood her, but she had pushed someone to
commit suicide, however unintentional it may be.
As she walked inside the room with Nivan, he received a phone call. Rivanah heard him talk to
Advika and learnt he was flying to Mumbai later that night. Once the call ended Nivan came to
Rivanah who had quietly settled on the couch seemingly withdrawn.
‘I’ll have to fly back in some hours. Advika needs me.’
Rivanah needs me . . . will someone ever say that? Rivanah wondered. And answered her own
question: why would someone? Now she knew why she could never deserve a man like Nivan. She
deserved whatever had happened to her so far and she had no right to find solace in cribbing.
‘Rivanah? You all right?’ Nivan asked.
‘Yeah.’ Both she and Nivan knew she was anything but all right.
‘If you need more leaves from office, let me know. I’ll talk to the management.’
‘I think I will be coming to Mumbai shortly as well.’
‘To be honest, I think that would help you to move on as quickly as possible.’
Move on from what? The ugly person that I am? Won’t I forever carry the person within me? She
asked, ‘What did you do when you learnt Advika paid the price of your stubbornness?’
‘Though whatever happened to Advika was unintended, I still believe it happened because of my
stubbornness. Advika may have become invalid, but Arun died.’
‘Arun?’ Somewhere the name rang a bell for Rivanah.
‘Arun Rawat. He was the one who crashed his car into Advika’s.’
Rivanah now knew where she had heard the name. Arun was the son of Dilip Rawat, the one for
whom the Stranger had made her sign the cheque from the last bit of her savings once. Was everything
always connected?
‘I knew it would be difficult not to break bit by bit everyday seeing Advika in her present
condition, but I was made to realize that if I broke down completely, so would Advika and whatever
was left of us. And “us” was everything I ever had. “Us” was something I could compromise my life
for.’
‘You were made to realize?’
 ‘By the Stranger. He helped me realize a bad stubborn choice may define us momentarily.
Unfortunately, most of us have this bad habit of wasting the whole because of the momentary.’
‘But the momentary choice ended up taking a life.’
‘In my case too it ended up taking two lives. Arun was dead.’
‘And the second life?’
‘The life Advika and I would have lived had I not pushed her to drive that night.’
In that case, I’ve taken two lives as well, Hiya, and the life she would have lived if I hadn’t
mixed the pills in the coffee, Rivanah thought.
Nivan called the reception. He told them he would check out in some time and asked the
receptionist to be ready with the necessary bills. Then he called someone and asked them to book a
business class ticket for the next flight to Mumbai. As he finished the call, Nivan said, ‘We are still
assuming Hiya killed herself because of you. Maybe there’s something that we don’t know yet. I still
feel it’s half the story. And half stories often lead us to wrong inference.’
‘Maybe,’ she said.
There was silence. Rivanah knew she had to leave, so Nivan could pack up. But she felt too heavy
to move. How could she face her parents now that she knew what they were hiding from her?
There was a momentary eye lock between Nivan and Rivanah. The moment it happened, she didn’t
know why she blurted out, ‘May I please hug you once?’
Nivan looked at her and came forward. She stood up and hugged him with such tightness that it took
Nivan by surprise, though he didn’t say anything. Rivanah knew it wasn’t a friendly hug—it was
more, it had passion in it and a claim but she couldn’t help it. The hug didn’t seem like a first.
Rivanah wanted Nivan to understand her unsaid claim, the way an author wants his readers to
understand the unwritten. She would have prolonged the hug had Nivan’s phone not rung.
‘Excuse me,’ he said and broke the hug. Before he took the call, she said, ‘I’ll see you in Mumbai.
Thanks for all the support.’ She left the hotel room.
Once home, Rivanah tried to be normal the way her parents did even after knowing they had made
her forget that one fact which could have altered her life. She would do the same. Not let them realize
she knew what they were hiding. Rivanah surprised herself with how normally she was behaving,
even though she wasn’t looking straight at either of them. With a blank mind, she kept watching
television, talked to Ishita for some time keeping her responses simple. Ishita understood she needed
some alone time on this. Rivanah booked her ticket to Mumbai and then had her dinner with her
parents, pretending all was fine. The pretence scared her and also relaxed her at the same time.
Lying on her bed at night, she messaged the Stranger: You there?
For a change the Stranger didn’t respond immediately.
A message from a new number popped up: Can we meet for coffee once more?
She checked the display picture and noticed Tista and Ekansh together.
I told you I’m in Mumbai, Rivanah replied.
I too am in Mumbai. Serving notice period for two months.
I’ll let you know.
 She saw Ekansh typing but she received no message. She didn’t probe either. Waiting for the
Stranger’s reply, she scrolled down to Nivan’s name on her WhatsApp contact list. She tapped on his
display picture and kept staring at it for some time, after which she messaged him: Reached?
She received a reply soon enough: Yes, I did. How are you now?
I’m okay. I’ve booked a flight to Mumbai tomorrow.
Good. Any intimation from the Stranger yet?
Not yet. I messaged but no reply yet.
Okay. Keep me updated. See you soon.
Sure, see you.
After thinking for few seconds she typed: May I tell you something?
Sure. Nivan messaged back.
Rivanah typed: I love you, Nivan. Not like the way one usually desires someone. My love won’t
limit you to choose between Advika or me. I’ll only be limiting myself to you with my love. It won’t
attempt to own you either but only request you to make me a part, or perhaps an extension, of
whatever you share with Advika. I’ll be more than happy to hide myself within the shadow of your
and Advika’s relationship. I know it’s weird but to be loved the way Advika is loved by you is
perhaps my only redemption. It may sound selfish but—
Rivanah paused for a moment and then deleted the entire message. She rewrote instead:
Nothing important really. Goodnight, Nivan.
 31

Heading for the airport the next morning, Mrs Bannerjee was narrating to Rivanah what happened
between her and Rivanah’s maternal aunt.
‘She was as usual being poky. All through the phone call, she was hinting that we have decided to
make you sit at home all your life. She has shifted to the US but her mentality will never shift.’
Rivanah was facing the other way, not really paying attention to what her mother was telling her.
‘I also told her my daughter is the best.’
Rivanah suddenly gave her a sharp look as she heard her mother say, ‘And for the best, we have
selected the best.’ She looked at Rivanah and continued, ‘I didn’t take Nivan’s name, but your father
and I have decided that we will talk to him once you go to Mumbai. He is the best match for you.’
The last statement broke all her defences, and Rivanah started sobbing uncontrollably, holding her
mother tight. Her father, who was driving the car, kept looking at his wife via the rear-view mirror,
confused.
‘What happened, Mini? Tell me.’ Her worried mother egged her on, but Rivanah wasn’t ready to
speak. Her embrace only tightened. I’m a bitch, Mumma. And I only deserve shit. It was only when
her father said if she didn’t talk, he would drive her back to their house and cancel her Mumbai flight,
that Rivanah said aloud, ‘Nivan is committed.’ It wasn’t why she was crying, but then she wasn’t sure
why exactly she was crying. Mrs Bannerjee too had tears in her eyes as she glanced at her husband,
understanding that their daughter perhaps had feelings for Nivan.
‘It’s okay, Mini. I’m sure there are other guys like Nivan.’
No, Baba. There is nobody like him. Nivan is rare. And to get to him, one had to be rarer. Like
Advika. Not like me.
‘I think you shouldn’t go to Mumbai today,’ Mr Bannerjee said.
‘No, Baba. I’ll have to. I don’t have any more leaves. I want to work to take my mind off other
things.’
Mr Bannerjee agreed that work would be the right anodyne for his daughter and didn’t speak any
further.
Ishita was waiting for her at the departure gate as the Bannerjee family climbed down from the car.
She came and hugged her friend tight.
‘Everything will be all right,’ Ishita whispered in her ears.
‘Yeah.’ Rivanah spoke softly.
‘Go for Nivan. He is a good guy. I’m sure he will keep you happy,’ Ishita whispered next. Though
Rivanah had said nothing about her feelings for Nivan to her, Ishita had still understood it. Was
Rivanah so obvious? Had Nivan too understood it as clearly and as correctly like Ishita did?
‘He is committed,’ she told Ishita. The latter broke the hug and looked deep into Rivanah’s eyes.
The kind of pain Ishita saw in them churned her guts. She hadn’t seen it even when Ekansh had
ditched her or when she had told her that Danny and she had broken up. It was the kind of pain which
comes when someone’s innocence is lost once and for all.
‘You will be late, Mini,’ Mr Bannerjee said.
‘Be in touch,’ Ishita said. Rivanah proceeded to the gate. She knew her parents were waiting for
her to turn around and wave at them, but she didn’t. She just couldn’t.
The flight landed on time. She reached the Residency Enclave soon after. She glanced once at
Nivan’s door, as she was about to unlock her flat. But her door opened suddenly, and Rivanah saw
Nivan’s servant and Advika on her wheelchair inside her flat. Advika was smiling at her.
‘Nivan told me you were coming, so we thought of dusting the flat a bit,’ Advika said, her speech
slurry.
How can she be so damn good to others? Rivanah thought, and said, ‘That’s really kind of you
Advika.’
‘You must be tired. I’ll leave you now. We can catch up later.’
‘Sure.’
‘Is Nivan back?’ Advika asked the servant. She nodded.
‘Where is he?’ Rivanah asked.
‘He must be downstairs taking his karate class,’ Advika said and took her leave. Rivanah watched
them step out of her flat and then get into the adjacent flat, closing the door behind them. Rivanah
immediately locked her flat and went downstairs. She didn’t have to look for long before she found
Nivan with a group of young girls in white martial-arts attire in a circle on the society ground. They
were watching something. As Rivanah approached Nivan, he looked up and asked her to be quiet,
gesturing her to look ahead. She did. A girl seemingly of her age was fighting a strong-looking guy. He
was about to punch her but the girl flipped in a flash and kicked him on the face. The man lost his
footing and fell down. Everyone clapped and cheered. Nivan had a smile on his face.
‘What’s this?’ Rivanah asked.
‘I’m a black belt in karate,’ Nivan said. ‘And I teach these girls the art of self-defence. He called it
“share your good luck”.’
The words took Rivanah back to her past when she taught ten slum kids—Mini’s Magic 10.
‘Hey Rivanah!’ It was Smita from work.
‘What are you doing here?’ Rivanah asked.
‘Joined here a few weeks ago.’
Rivanah remembered a pamphlet on her desk regarding some karate class. She did think about
giving it a shot, but never knew it was managed by Nivan.
‘All good at home?’ Smita asked.
Rivanah nodded, shooting a furtive glance at Nivan.
‘Great. See you in office,’ Smita said and left.
‘Can I be a part of it as well?’ Rivanah asked.
 ‘Sure. You don’t even have to ask. From tomorrow morning?’
‘From tomorrow morning,’ she confirmed.
Together they went back into the building. At work, the first thing she did was to approach Argho.
‘I wanted to apologize for whatever happened to you that day in the police station,’ she said. Argho
wasn’t expecting her to apologize once again.
‘It’s okay. You’d already apologized the other day.’
‘I know,’ she said. I wish I could tell you this apology is actually for something else. I can’t face
Hiya’s parents, and you are her next family link I know of.
‘Did you find out who was playing games with you?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Let me know if you do.’
‘Sure.’
The moment she was in her cubicle, she messaged the Stranger: I need to talk. Where are you???
The Stranger was yet to respond to her last message. She tried calling the numbers she had with
her. All the ten numbers that she had of the Stranger produced the same result: The number you are
trying to reach has been withdrawn.
Clouded by suspicion, Rivanah rushed to Nivan’s cabin. Looking at her, he knew it was something
urgent.
‘What happened?’
‘I think the Stranger won’t contact me again. And I can’t let that happen. I can’t afford to lose him.
Not now. Not ever.’
‘How do you know he won’t contact you?’
‘None of his numbers are active any more. And he hasn’t responded to my message in over twenty-
four hours. This has never happened before.’
Reclining on his seat, Nivan looked thoughtful.
‘You must have the Stranger’s number?’ Rivanah asked.
‘I do. First come in and close the door,’ he said.
Rivanah did as asked and said, ‘Could you please dial him?’
Nivan picked up his phone from the table and opened Contacts. He scrolled down and reached the
name which read Stranger. Placing his phone on the table again, he dialled the number. The screen
flashed ‘Calling Stranger’. He tapped on the speaker mode. Both Nivan and Rivanah could hear the
rings. On the fifth ring, the phone was picked up.
‘Hello,’ the person at the other end of the line said.
It can’t be, Rivanah thought. The voice belonged to someone dear to her once, someone acutely
close to her, someone she loved, someone who had left her broken recently. Someone who also went
by the name Danny.
 32

Nivan tapped the mute button and asked, ‘What happened?’ He felt Rivanah had perhaps identified
the voice. She didn’t react though.
‘Do you know the person?’ he egged on.
Rivanah nodded. She was too shocked to talk. Is Danny the Stranger? Both Nivan’s and mine?
‘Hello?’
Danny was still on line. Nivan, who was still looking at Rivanah, tapped on the red button and the
call ended.
‘Is this the same voice who talks to you?’ Nivan asked.
‘No. But then it never was one voice throughout.’
‘Same here. Sometimes it’s a woman, sometimes an old man and sometimes a teenager. This time
it’s a man.’
A man who feigned Danny’s voice? Or was it Danny himself? Rivanah said, ‘Precisely. I’ll wait
till the Stranger contacts me.’ She didn’t feel comfortable mentioning Danny to Nivan—especially
their shared past. The moment she left Nivan’s cabin, she once again dialled all the numbers
belonging to the Stranger. They were still not available. Frustrated, she checked her Contacts and
realized she’d deleted Danny’s number long back. She checked her Truecaller history and finally got
Danny’s number. She saved it under his name. On a hunch, she went back to Nivan’s cabin.
‘Could I please get the number you called for the Stranger? Just in case . . .’
‘Sure.’ Nivan called out the number. As she punched it in her dial pad, she thanked Nivan and
stepped out to dial the number. Her phone’s screen soon flashed ‘Calling Danny’. The number which
Nivan stored as ‘Stranger’ in his phone was in fact Danny’s number. Going by the record, it could be
a duplicate sim and a mimicked voice, but Rivanah knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything
till she was sure. The phone kept ringing and was finally picked up. Is it because he still has my
number and is in two minds seeing my name? Rivanah wondered, and heard him say, ‘Hi.’
‘Hi ba—’ Rivanah was about to say ‘baby’ but paused at the right moment. It was funny how
relationships programmed a mind.
‘What happened suddenly?’ Danny said.
I’ll have to meet him, she thought, but said, ‘Congrats on the film thing.’ She was already framing
her next sentence in her mind as she heard him say, ‘Thank you. I thought you would never call.’
‘I thought you wouldn’t pick up.’
‘I thought you wouldn’t think about me.’
‘I thought you wouldn’t talk to me.’
 There was silence. Did Danny react the way he did because he wanted to leave her alone, because
he indeed was the Stranger? Was his entire plan of coming into her life as a sexy neighbour an attempt
to be close to her to know her every move? Why would he do that? And why would he behave the
same with Nivan? Things might clear up, she thought, if we met once. Rivanah was praying Danny
himself would mention the meeting part, as it was becoming tougher for her to say it aloud. Deep
down, she knew even this time she didn’t want to meet him because she was missing him, but she
wanted to know if his phone really had received a call from Nivan.
‘Listen, I’m shooting for a magazine. I’ll have to go.’
‘Can we meet for some time today?’ Rivanah finally blurted out.
‘Okay. I’ll be with a friend in Boveda later in the evening.’
It was clear he didn’t want to rekindle anything between them, or else he wouldn’t be rude enough
to meet her while he was meeting a friend.
‘Sure.’ Rivanah thought she too would make it clear she wasn’t looking to go back into the past.
‘Around eight,’ Danny said.
Rivanah was late by half an hour due to heavy traffic. Before she could guide the cab driver to the
place, she received an unexpected call.
‘Is that Rivanah Bannerjee?’
‘Speaking, who is it?’
‘This is Inspector Kamble.’
It took few seconds for Rivanah to recollect who Inspector Kamble was.
‘How are you, sir?’
‘I’m good. How are you doing? Glad you remember.’
‘I’m good too.’
‘Listen, would it possible for you to come down to the Goregaon police station anytime soon.’
‘Now?’
‘Not now. But maybe tomorrow.’
‘Sure, I will. But what happened?’
‘There’s something I want to talk to you about. Will tell you when we meet.’
‘All right, sir.’
Rivanah remembered how worried Inspector Kamble used to be for his daughter, though the last
time she met him, he had told her she had got a job in Mumbai itself. Rivanah guided the cab driver
and reached Boveda soon. She entered to realize a karaoke night was in full swing. A guy and a girl
were singing an Enrique song. It wasn’t long before Rivanah’s eyes located Danny. He was looking
happier than ever before, talking to a girl. Danny’s eyes spotted Rivanah as he stood up. She
understood he didn’t want her to come up to him. The girl with whom Danny was sitting had her back
to Rivanah. She turned to flash a smile at her. It was Nitya. The sight of her was like a bullet through
her heart. Did Danny intentionally call her there because he was meeting Nitya? Or did he meet Nitya
because Rivanah wanted to meet him? Were Danny and Nitya in a relationship?
‘Let’s go outside. I need to smoke,’ Danny said as he walked past Rivanah. He didn’t even
appreciate the fact that they were meeting after a long time. She was ready for a hug even if it was
going to be awkward. She turned to follow Danny outside. He lit a cigarette.
‘When did this happen?’ Rivanah said. Seeing her glance at Nitya, Danny knew what she was
talking about.
‘Never you mind,’ he said, looking around constantly, as if he thought someone was filming him.
For Rivanah, those three words were loaded enough to answer her query regarding Nitya’s
presence. They were seeing each other. A casual glance at Nitya told her she was smirking at her. I-
finally-won-bitch kind of smirk. A slight anger nudged her, but Rivanah knew she didn’t have the right
to express it.
‘What’s up?’ Danny said.
If he wants to keep it to the point, I shall keep it to the point, Rivanah decided and said, ‘I want
to see your phone’s call list once.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me.’
‘What for? And what makes you think you still have the right to check my phone?’
‘I know I don’t. That’s why I am asking you. It’s related to the Stranger,’ she said and noticed
Danny pause in between a puff, and then release the smoke at one go.
‘I’m sorry, but I don’t want to show you my phone.’
‘Why not?’
Danny’s hesitation persuaded Rivanah to believe her suspicions: Danny perhaps was the Stranger.
‘A phone is a personal belonging.’
‘I am not interested in your chats or pictures. All I want you to do is open your call history and
show it to me. You don’t have to give the phone to me.’
‘Call history?’
‘What’s happening, baby?’ It was Nitya.
‘Nothing. She wants to see my call history.’
‘You sure you haven’t lost it, Rivanah?’ Nitya said. It was quite insulting, but Rivanah didn’t react.
‘One glimpse, Danny, and I shall be forever gone.’
Danny and Nitya exchanged a glance. Nitya took Danny’s phone and unlocked it. The fact that
Rivanah never knew Danny’s password made her feel inferior. But it was momentary. Nitya held the
phone flashing the call history in front of Rivanah. The latter read on quickly. Nitya, Nitya, Nitya . . .
some other names . . . couple of random numbers . . . not Nivan’s.
‘How much longer?’ Nitya asked.
‘Did you delete any number, Danny?’ Rivanah asked.
‘I really think you should visit a shrink, girl,’ Nitya said.
‘Excuse me, but I’m not talking to you,’ Rivanah said, looking from Nitya to Danny.
‘I too think you need to visit a shrink,’ Danny said. Nitya almost pulled him inside. Did he delete
the number or did he really not have any idea why she wanted to check his phone? A frustrated
Rivanah left Boveda.
Half an hour later, she was in her flat in the Residency Enclave. Sitting on her bed, she had no clue
what she should do next. Was it really supposed to end this way? The Stranger withdrawing without
any notice after revealing what a bitch she had been to Hiya? The Stranger was still in touch with
Nivan, then why not her? Why did the Stranger choose to talk in Danny’s voice? Was Danny even
speaking the truth? If he had deleted the number, she would never know. And she couldn’t approach
him again. Especially after the way both he and Nitya had treated her some time back. Rivanah lifted
her head up and her eyes fell on the sketch stand. Hiya’s face was half covered with something. She
frowned. It was an A4 sheet. In fact, there were two sheets stapled together and taped to one edge of
the sketch. Rivanah took it out. It read like a chat transcript between two people: the Stranger and
Hiya. Before she could begin reading, something occurred to her and she rushed to the main gate. In
two minutes, she reached the security guard’s room. She checked the visitors’ book but there was no
entry mentioning a visitor to her flat. She asked the guard to show her the CCTV footage of her floor.
Every corner of the Residency Enclave was under CCTV surveillance 24/7. As the guard played the
footage for the day, Rivanah sat still beside him, staring unblinkingly at the screen. She could see the
newspaper man, the sweepers and some residents coming into view and moving out. She saw Nivan
leaving for work. She saw herself as well. She slowly started forwarding the footage until she
stopped at a particular segment. Time 14.06. Someone had entered her flat through the front door and
a minute later had stepped out. The person was wearing a cap, shades, jeans and a tight-fitting tee.
Rivanah had made love to this man several times. How could she mistake him for anyone else? She
paused the frame just before the person was about to enter the elevator.
‘Do you know the person, madam?’ the security guard asked, as Rivanah stared at the frozen image
of Danny speechlessly.
 33

It was late. Rivanah walked to Nivan’s door but wasn’t sure if she should ring the doorbell this late
in the night. She decided against it and settled on her couch, clutching the chat transcript in her hand.
Finally, she knew who the Stranger was. She read through the transcript in her hand.
Hiya: I know you did something so I couldn’t go to the college on time. Tell me, what did you
do?
Stranger: I didn’t do anything.
Hiya: Wrong. You did. I don’t know why you are after my life.
Stranger: I only want you to know your worth, Hiya.
Hiya: Cut the bullshit. You want to kill me. You knew how badly I wanted this job. My family is
looking up to me to secure the job and then sponsor my little brother’s dialysis. You knew it, damn
it, and still you didn’t let me have it.
Stranger: As I said, I wasn’t the one who stalled you from going to college today.
Hiya: What’s the use of lying to me now? Whoever you are, just know that you’ve left me with no
option other than the one I’m opting for now.
Stranger: Hold on, Hiya. Don’t be presumptuous.
Hiya: I did whatever you asked me to. I thought you were a friend.
Stranger: Hiya, you won’t do anything which upsets me.
Hiya: Go to hell.
Stranger: Let me come to you.
Hiya: I don’t care any more.
Stranger: Hiya.
Stranger: Hiya?
Rivanah knew why Hiya didn’t respond—the date and time of the message was printed in a corner.
It was the same night that Hiya was found hanging in her room. Hiya died without knowing it was
Rivanah who had mixed the sleeping pills in her coffee which made her wake up late. Too late. Why
does the Stranger—or Danny—want me to read this? Rivanah tried to guess the answer. Was it
because he didn’t want her to feel guilty about the fact that she thought she led Hiya to kill herself?
Had Hiya known it was Rivanah who mixed those sleeping pills, she would have been upset but
probably not killed herself? She probably wrongly assumed the Stranger would lead her to her doom,
and thus, burdened with the brother’s medical condition, hanged herself? It could be true as much as it
could be false. Whatever she guessed would only be an inference of the truth but not the truth itself.
And the one who could tell her the truth was the Stranger—Danny—whom she couldn’t contact. He
had—cleverly—made sure of that by bringing Nitya into the picture earlier in the evening. But she
could make sure he came to her. If he was the Stranger then Danny would definitely come to her. She
eyed the last words of the Stranger to Hiya in the transcript: Let me come to you. And that sort of
desperation happened because the Stranger was convinced Hiya would kill herself. Rivanah knew
what she had to do to summon Danny to her on his own will. She had tried to do it once before too.
But that was pretence. This time it won’t be pretence.
The next day Rivanah was quiet in the office. Nivan asked her if she managed to get through to the
Stranger, but she was cold about it. She did dial the stored phone numbers again but they were still
suspended. After lunch, she got a phone call from Kamble saying he was busy that day and asked if
she could meet up the next day. Rivanah confirmed she would.
In the evening, while going back to her flat, time and again she kept stretching her hand out of the
cab and clicking random photographs of the traffic behind her using her phone—a total of five clicks.
And as she kept checking the photographs, she broke into a smile. One biker was common in all the
photographs. She was right. She was still being followed. It wasn’t over yet. Rivanah intentionally
got down in front of the Residency Enclave and walked inside. She sipped her tea by the huge French
windows in the drawing room overlooking the sea in the distance. Then she asked one of the security
guards to come up with the terrace keys. The moment the guard came, she told him she had to check
her dish antenna and so wanted the door to the terrace to be unlocked. The guard unlocked the terrace
for her and waited. She asked him to leave and said that she would call him when she is done. The
Stranger wouldn’t appear if the guard was there with her. As the guard left reluctantly, Rivanah went
to the edge of the terrace. A fierce sea breeze hit her hard. She felt at peace. She was almost lost at
the sight of the sea ahead when she heard the sound of the elevator coming from the main control room
atop the terrace. Her hunch told her the elevator would stop at the sixteenth floor—it did. The same
hunch told her the one inside would take the steps to the terrace and would stop by the main door.
Rivanah didn’t turn around but could feel a presence. Something hit her. She bent down and picked it
up. There was a pebble in the piece of paper crumpled into a ball. She dropped the pebble and read
the words on the paper:
You don’t have to do it, Mini.
Finally, for once, she was ahead of the Stranger. Of Danny. She turned around but saw only
darkness by the terrace door.
‘Why don’t you show yourself, Danny? I know it’s you,’ she said aloud.
Seconds later, another paper ball with a pebble in it reached her.
Everything has consequences, Mini. Revealing who I am will have its own share of
consequences.
‘Why are you still so cryptic? I thank you for making me realize what my blunder was. How I lead
Hiya to kill herself, but I also want to thank you for helping me learn to live with my blunders.’
Hiya didn’t get the job because of you. But she died because of me.
Rivanah had understood it while reading the chat transcript.
‘But what is it all about? Who are you really? What did you gain by being Hiya’s Stranger, then
mine and Nivan’s too? Why did you keep reminding Hiya and me to know our worth?’
 Can’t we end this without questions?
‘No, we can’t. This isn’t the time to play games, Danny. I know you still love me. Whatever you
did in the ATM at Kalyan or at Boveda was all an act. Wasn’t it?’
A paper ball reached her after a while.
Yes, I love you, Mini.
Rivanah could have cried reading it. Finally, there was some hope in her life. The line reminded
her of what Nivan had told her once about standing by your choices. Another paper ball hit her.
I shall ask you one more time. Think and answer, because this choice of yours and mine will
affect lives. It will be a lot of responsibility for you if I show myself. Are you sure you can handle
it?
‘I’m dead sure I can handle whatever it is. Especially after whatever you have been helping me
learn.’
I’m happy, Mini, that it was all worth it.
‘I want to hug you, Danny. Right now.’
Not now. We are being watched. We meet tomorrow, 8 a.m. sharp, at the edge of Nariman Point.
Rivanah heard the terrace door close. Danny was gone. What made him say they were being
watched? Why was he so secretive even when she knew his identity? Most importantly, why did
Danny have to play the role of Stranger in her life?
One more night—she checked the time on her phone—ten hours to be precise. And things shall
become clear once and for all. Sleep was a distant cry for her. She was awake till six in the morning.
Then she took a bath, got ready and took a cab to Nariman Point—the tip of Marine Drive in South
Mumbai. She reached at the spot ten minutes before time. There were a few people sitting at some
distance on the cemented barricade of Marine Drive and some others walking and jogging on the
sidetrack. She was the only one standing at the edge. The morning breeze strengthened the hope she
felt when she had read that Danny still loved her. Rivanah felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned
around in a flash.
‘Hello, Mini, I’m your Stranger.’
 34

Rivanah’s jaw slowly fell open.

‘What the—’ she just began but was stopped by a finger on her lips.
‘You don’t get to talk today. Only I do,’ the person said. Rivanah kept staring at him as if she was
looking at him for the first time.
‘This is more complex, sinister and pertinent than you can even imagine, Mini. And it has rules.
None of this is random. None of this can be proved.’
The Stranger was finally right in front of her—in flesh and blood. It was a face all too familiar for
her. But how could it be . . .
‘Firstly, I would like to apologize to you for those life-threatening attacks. My intention was never
to kill you but I had to push you towards finding your link to Hiya because time was running out.’
‘Time was running out? What do you mean?’ Rivanah asked.
‘We are a highly classified network of emotional-surgeons spread across the nation, working
underground for a social revolution. Nobody knows how big or small the group is or who all are part
of it. Believe me, even if your closest friend or family member has a Stranger in his or her life, he or
she won’t ever share it with you. We manipulate people in such a way that nobody has the option to
talk about us. Like you too couldn’t talk about me to many. Even if you did, there was no substantial
evidence. We are the best-kept secret for the public at large. Our own statistic is that every seven-
hundredth youngster in India has a Stranger in his or her life, as we speak. We are committed to
raising the number.’
‘What do you mean by “emotional-surgeon”?’ Rivanah mumbled. She was still trying to absorb it
all. He looked at the sea in front and said, ‘One of the weakest things about humans is we can be
easily influenced. We are inherently gullible though we are one of the most intelligent creatures. This
weakness is our group’s strength. We initiate a change in people by influencing them. We don’t
perform physical surgeries on our targets but we work on their emotions. We push them to the edge.
And we work within a time frame. We famish them emotionally as much as we nourish them. We alter
their way of thinking, of perceiving things, their beliefs, their conclusions—in short, we alter them as
an individual. You know, Mini, our everyday fight is between what we are holding on to and what we
are letting go of. What we let go of changes us, what we hold on to alters us. Changes are
irreversible. Alternations aren’t.’
Like you initiated an alteration in me the first time I landed in Mumbai, Rivanah thought.
‘Our social revolution is all about crushing that individual self in us, which is a product of a
myopic and materialistic society, and knowing our real worth. If one observes people, one will know
that people can be categorized, because there’s a pattern—nobody is exclusive. Why do you think
these social-networking platforms are a hit? Because deep down, we all are lonely, bitter and
depressed. The extent varies, the extent of acceptance varies but we are these things. We all feel an
urgent need to connect, to communicate without filters all the time, and yet we tell ourselves it isn’t
possible. That’s where we emotional-surgeons come in. We pick our targets, we clean their bitterness
by making them accept their deep-rooted mistakes, blunders which otherwise they would never
embrace and always try to run away from. We sweep away their loneliness by explaining to them why
one must love one’s own self in the garb of the “share your good luck” endeavour.’
Like you made me learn to cook when I was depressed, you made me teach those slum kids and
find happiness in simple things, you made me offer money to Mr Rawat, which told me I wasn’t a
bad person, after all.
‘Everything needs time. Even sunlight needs time to explain to the seed why it is falling on it. The
kind of social design we have knitted over years trains us subliminally to see things not as they are,
but as we are told they are—no questions, no objectivity. We emotional-surgeons push people to
question, to doubt their subjectivity, because otherwise, it makes our emotional selves blind with
time. I too was made a part of it after being pursued by a year and a half by a Stranger who wanted
me to know my worth. Not everyone we pursue is made a part of our group. But the ones who are—
like I was—are given a target. Hiya Chowdhury was my first target. I had to perform an emotional
surgery on her so that she could take on life better and realize her potential to the fullest. Our
meticulous and collective planning is our strength. And my surgery on Hiya would have been
successful had you not interfered, Mini. You drugged Hiya and she thought it was my doing. Before I
could reach her, she had hanged herself assuming that I was some lunatic stalker harassing her.’
Nivan had both his hands in his trousers’ pockets as he talked.
‘But what about Danny’s number in your phone labelled as Stranger?’
‘He wasn’t my Stranger. I was his. I’d recently started pursuing him, after the way he behaved with
you inside the ATM in Kalyan. How do you think he cracked a film deal this quickly?’
‘We all have secrets to hide, Mini, truths to confess. Danny coming to drop the chat transcript at
your place yesterday was my manipulation, just the way I made you resign from your job, compelled
you to go to Prateek’s place and the like.’
Everything added up now. Danny looked anxious when he came out to smoke with me in Boveda,
looking around all the time, Rivanah thought and asked, ‘But why didn’t you come clean in front of
Hiya like you are coming clean right now? Or did you come out clean in front of every target of
yours?’
He gave her a tight smile and said, ‘No, we don’t come out clean in front of anybody.’ A few silent
seconds later, he added, ‘Remember, how I had made you breathless on your terrace in Kolkata?’
The holding of hands . . . the pressing of the mouth . . . the clipping of the nose . . . Rivanah
nodded.
‘That’s what you made me feel as well. Acutely desperate. Love’s power of influencing us is
always more than our scope of understanding it. In the quest to alter you, I fell for you, Mini, though I
always believed I would never fall for anyone except Advika.’
 Rivanah’s lips parted but no words came out.
‘Initially, I was angry with you for snatching an opportunity from me to influence Hiya. That’s why
I had attacked you in your flat too, but I let you go . . .’
Rivanah remembered the night clearly when she was alone in her flat, waiting for Danny, but she
was attacked instead, stripped to the bare minimum.
‘Why did you let me go that night, Nivan?’ she asked.
‘Not every pain you want to let go of, Mini. Some you want to keep by your side and watch it grow,
because you know you too shall grow with the pain. You are one such pain for me, Mini,’ Nivan said.
Rivanah didn’t how to react. The initial shock of seeing Nivan as the Stranger had somewhat died
down, but she wasn’t ready for the fact that Nivan could actually love her. It was always supposed to
be a fantasy. Or was this a fantasy?
‘I could have told you on the first day itself that you were made to forget about Hiya through
hypnosis, but I had to make sure that first you had the necessary strength to take such a thing. One can
take as much shit as possible, but when it comes to one’s own shit, the mind works in a different way,
activating the weirdest of defence mechanisms.’
There was silence.
‘Will you . . .’ Rivanah stopped, feeling choked, and started again, ‘Will you believe it if I say I
love you, Nivan?’
‘I know it, Mini.’
‘What about Advika?’ she asked.
The way Nivan looked at her first and then away, she knew their dilemma was the same.
‘What happens next?’ she asked.
‘Next is this.’ Nivan took out a piece of paper from his trousers’ pocket and gave it to Rivanah. She
was about to open its fold when Nivan stopped her.
‘Not now. Before you read it, you have to listen to me carefully. I have played a big gamble on you.
Don’t you dare disappoint me on this, Mini.’
‘What is it, Nivan?’ she asked. She had a bad feeling about it.
‘I told you there are rules in the world I’m a part of and one has to stick to those rules, come what
may. And the foremost rule is a Stranger can’t appear in front of his or her target. Come. What. May. I
have already broken that rule for you, Mini. Thus there will be a price for me to pay.’
‘What’s the price?’ The bad feeling in her guts became worse.
‘It’s in the note,’ Nivan said, and in a flash took the note from her hand. He held it against the wind.
He took out a lighter and set aflame one of the corners of the note as Rivanah watched in shock.
‘Finish reading it before it all turns into ash. Don’t follow me. Or call out to me. Whatever happens
in the next minute happens because of me and not because of you. Remember that always and never be
guilty about it. It was important for me to come clean in front of you,’ Nivan said and planted a kiss on
her lips, taking her by surprise. He turned and walked off. With a frown, Rivanah started reading the
note which was slowly turning into ash. It read:
 By the time you read the last word of this note, you’ll know what I meant when I said last
night that our meeting will have consequences. Ours is a doomed love story, Mini. And the
doom is planned. I know of it. So does Advika. But she won’t be able to deal with it alone. So
she will be your responsibility from now on.
The rules of our underground group of Strangers are simple: if you know who we are, then
you are one amongst us. Once you are in, you can’t get out. If you don’t comply, you are dead.
You breach, you are dead. And our biggest strength is our secrecy because of which we
convince people we don’t exist. Like this paper shall turn to ash, swallowing all the words in
it.
Don’t let what you see when you are done reading this note break you in any way. In fact,
don’t react since we both are being watched right now. Any unfavourable reaction from your
end, and they won’t think twice before eliminating you. Someone will contact you in the next
five days to tell you what’s next for you. Accept it. Take care, Mini. Goodbye. We shall be
together in some other life, maybe. This one was too complicated.

Rivanah let go of the paper as the fire licked the last bit up. As some of the ash slipped out of her
hand, Rivanah heard a commotion at a distance. A car had run over someone. People had gathered.
Rivanah wanted to throw up. She knelt by the edge of Nariman Point, trying to shut the noise around
her. She could hear people screaming for someone to call the police. Her phone rang next. It was
Inspector Kamble. She didn’t take the call. He called again. She picked up.
‘Rivanah, are you coming to meet me today?’
‘I’m sorry, sir.’ She was finding it difficult to talk. ‘I’m out of the city right now.’
‘Oh, not a problem. Let me get this done on the phone itself. I wanted to tell you there’s one more
person who lodged an FIR a few days back, claiming someone was stalking him. A little investigation
told me that this guy too received messages on white cloth like you once did. Are you still getting
them?’
‘No, sir. They stopped coming long back.’
‘Hmm. Okay, that’s all. Thanks. You carry on.’
Glancing at the last piece of ash of Nivan’s note being swept off into the sea by the wind, his words
came back to her: Advika is your responsibility from now. The dreadful feeling was actually an
intuition. If she knew this was going to be the end, then she wouldn’t have ever asked the Stranger to
reveal himself. Rivanah wanted to see Nivan for one last time, but she knew she couldn’t. We are
being watched, he had written. She stood up, hailed a cab and headed to the Residency Enclave,
breaking down inside the car.
It took an hour and a half for her to reach her destination. She took the elevator and reached the
sixteenth floor in no time. Standing in front of 1603, she was trying hard to not think of how she would
react or in what state she would find Advika in. The servant opened the door and gestured towards
the bedroom immediately. Xeno was sitting in a corner. Rivanah went towards the bedroom. As she
stood by the door, she could see Advika sitting by her window, looking out at the sea. Rivanah
approached her with heavy steps. Once there, she placed a trembling hand on Advika’s shoulder. The
latter turned. Her eyes were swollen. Rivanah understood that Nivan must have told her about it
beforehand. Advika threw a hand around Rivanah’s waist and hugged her tightly. As she felt her body
shudder against hers, Rivanah put her arms around Advika holding back her own tears. From someone
who was always in need of a shoulder to cry on, the Stranger had turned Rivanah into someone who
could lend a shoulder to someone in need. And for that, she would be forever indebted to Nivan . . .
to her Stranger, whom she would never forget.
 Epilogue

11 MONTHS LATER

Indigo flight 6E-332, Mumbai to Kolkata, 12.30 a.m.

Manish Agarwal switched on his mobile phone even before the flight had landed. He knew it was
against the rules, but he didn’t care. One after another, messages started pouring in on different social
platforms. One of his close friends had sent him a dirty MMS on WhatsApp. It was of a girl giving a
guy a blowjob. The next message read: Rohit: 13. Manish: 11, followed by a devil’s emoticon.
Pretty soon, I’ll up my score, asshole! Manish replied.
He looked up to see the air hostess he had been fantasizing about all through the flight. Her name
tag read: Anita. Manish gave her a big toothy grin. She smiled back at him awkwardly.
After the exit doors opened, passengers started moving out of the aircraft with their luggage. As
Manish reached the exit, he looked at the same air hostess who was now standing beside the door.
‘Have a pleasant night, sir,’ Anita said in the typical I-am-programmed-to-say-this manner.
Manish stopped and looking at her said, ‘What are you doing later tonight?’
‘Excuse me, sir?’ Anita wasn’t expecting it.
‘Okay, let me be straight. Are you free to hook up tonight?’
‘What do you think of yourself?’ Her raised voice made others shoot a suspicious glance at Manish.
It made him uncomfortable and also pinched his ego.
‘I’ll have to file a complaint against you if you repeat it,’ Anita shot back.
Manish gave her an angry look and stepped out of the airplane. He was walking furiously on the
aerobridge as he called his father.
‘Manu beta, has your flight landed? I have already sent the new Jaguar to fetch you,’ Mr Agarwal
said. He was the largest sponsor for the ruling party in the state.
‘I need to get an air hostess fired. Right. Now.’ Manish was fuming.
‘Oh. What happened?’
‘I will tell you later. She needs to be fired first.’
‘I’ll see to it. You come home first.’
Manish cut the call and promised himself he would make Anita his bitch in no time.
After collecting his luggage, he pushed the trolley to the men’s washroom to take a dump. Stepping
in, he tried to locate the light buttons since the toilet was concealed in utter darkness. Before he could
find it, someone held him by his collar and pulled him right inside one of the toilets. The door was
pushed closed while his hand was held behind and twisted hard. Manish opened his mouth to scream
but a sock was stuffed inside his mouth. There was a strong smell of some deodorant. Manish didn’t
know it was It’s Different, Hugo Boss. Manish tried hard, but couldn’t free himself from the tight
grasp. It all happened in a way he had only seen in Bruce Lee films. It was evident that the attacker,
whoever it was, knew martial arts. He felt something on his groin.
‘That’s a nutcracker right between your legs,’ a girl spoke in his ears. ‘Tell me, are you going to
listen carefully to what I’m going to say or . . .’ Manish nodded out of fear.
‘Good. You will take the next flight back to Mumbai right now. The ticket is inside a packet by the
washbasin outside. And when the flight takes off, you will hold your ears and do ten squats before
Anita, the air hostess, and apologize to her.’
Manish started fidgeting only to feel his arm being twisted even more. He stopped for his own
good. He heard the girl’s voice again.
‘Or else, I will crush your nuts first and then every bone of your body.’
The sound of it made Manish freak out. He shrank like a timid dog.
‘Did you get what I just said?’
Manish nodded.
‘Will you be a good boy, Manu?’
Manish nodded again, sweating profusely by now.
She removed the sock from his mouth.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ he said, gasping for breath.
‘Anonymity is power, Manu.’
‘Huh? What do you mean?’
‘You can call me . . . Stranger,’ said Rivanah.
 Acknowledgements

I have always dreaded the moment when, after working on the Stranger trilogy for three years, the
time would come for me to move on to a different story. The Stranger trilogy has been an educational
journey for me. It was a deeply emotional experience as well. And as is true for every journey, there
are always souls to thank when it comes to an end.
First and foremost comes my publisher, Milee Ashwarya; my editor, Gurveen Chadha; Shruti
Katoch from Marketing; Rahul Dixit from Sales; and to each and every one in Penguin Random House
who has shown faith in my work and supported me in presenting the trilogy to my readers. Heartfelt
thanks, a loud cheer to you all!
Authors are mostly selfish about their work. And to balance it out, one needs a selfless family. My
sincere respects and gratitude to my family for being there whenever I need them.
Since I’m a borderline social recluse, I would also like to thank the few friends I have, for being
there, for inspiring me, for teaching me, rectifying me in innumerable ways, and supporting me too.
Arindam, Rahul, Rachit, Arpit and Reetika: double thumbs-up!
Then there are people with whom you can’t define your relationship, because it is a lot of
everything and a little of nothing. Yet, you learn so much. Ranisa, Pauli, Anuradha, Siddhi, Pallavi,
Trisha, Titiksha and Rashi: you guys may not realize it, but I’ve learnt a lot from you people,
especially over the last one year. Thank you!
Pallavi Jha: as the trilogy draws to a conclusion, I thank you once again for planting the seed of the
concept (though unknowingly!) in my head during one of our innumerable phone calls. I hope you
continue to be happy and blessed. Here’s to many more phone calls, cheers!
R, for . . . guess I should rest my words for once and let the dots take over . . . for it’s in the dots
that we define ourselves the best, isn’t it?
 THE BEGINNING

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Published by Random House India in 2016
www.randomhouse.co.in
Copyright © Novoneel Chakraborty 2016
Cover design by Meena Rajasekaran
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated
without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition
including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
ISBN: 978-8-184-00730-5
This digital edition published in 2015.
e-ISBN: 978-8-184-00788-6