Read Scattered Fates - a novel on the second partition of India Page 42

PART

  It was a bit late by the time Maya woke up from her slumber. She checked the clock on the table, it was already 10.30 am.

  It had been a very long dinner with Sunder's father and they continued talking till late into the night after getting back home. She had retired back to her room, even as Naga and Sunder had a nightcap and discussed political developments in the country.

  She opened the door to her room, and noticed that both had left for work. Naga had placed a note for her on the kitchen table. He had to leave early for a breakfast meeting, and promised to be back by lunchtime.

  She poured herself a glass of orange juice and switched on the coffee maker. She decided to skip breakfast. The rich Dravidian food had forced a few extra kilos on her and she badly wanted to shed them, now that she was undressing in front of Naga.

  She noticed newspapers lying in a heap on the floor near the sofa, the latest issue of The Economist next to it. In no mood to read anything, she switched on the TV and watched a buxom lady gyrating to loud music, as a fat dark man with a bushy upper lip danced along. She immediately started surfing channels until she reached CBS. It had been a long time, and even if it meant watching stale programs dished out by the state broadcaster, it somehow relaxed her.

  A documentary on the irrigation system in Corea had just ended and titles were rolling.

  Maya moaned and stared at the screen. Her mind wandered to Ganapathy and the scheduled meeting today. There was no time to lose, he had been stalling her, and she needed more answers about Naga's father. She was certain that he was hiding something.

  Suddenly she remembered the photo that Naga had showed her. There was a third person, whose face was slightly obscured.

  Who was the third person? Was it Venkatramaiah?

  Maya walked up to the bookshelf and searched for the packet that Naga had shown her. She located it in no time, and walked back to the sofa. Another documentary was playing on the TV, but she hardly looked up at the screen. She was now concentrating on the packet in her hands, which she had unwrapped. The diary and the newspaper clippings were all in different languages, and she could not make sense of the contents. She looked at the photo keenly. Squinting her eyes, she tried to focus on the face of the third person.

  Then it struck her.

  It is abboji!

  Before her trip to Dravida, her father mentioned about his trip as an exchange student, his stay in the hostel, difficulty adjusting to the food and weather, near-death situation at a public rally and the tough time he had being caught in the midst of the civil war. But he never said anything about his professors, both of whom were clearly close to him, as this photo was taken in one of their houses.

  Maybe they were just acquaintances, and he forgot to mention it, or, he did so on purpose. She could find out the truth only after getting back to Corea, as he had a computer phobia and even refused to open an email account.

  For quick answers, Ganapathy was the only other person who could throw more light on this photo and their relationship. She decided to take the photo along for their meeting in the afternoon.