The inauguration of the Ram mandir is planned for Dussehra. Stone carvers from Rajasthan are working day and night in our backyard, on large slabs of marble. The atmosphere is alive with joy. It is Dr Bhaskar’s wish that the temple be inaugurated by a Warli from one of the nearby padas and not some powerful political leader. This will be in keeping with your father’s ideals which Dr Bhaskar respects deeply.

I hope you will put aside everything to attend the inauguration. It is still two months away. You have plenty of time to plan your work accordingly. Ashesh, you spend all your time painting pictures based on Western ideas which nobody understands. It would do you no harm to offer a day of your time at the feet of Shri Ramachandra who is the very foundation of our culture. Nima, Bachchu Kaka visits you often. Perhaps he misleads you with his slant on my life here. You don’t have to believe everything he says. Remember one thing only. He does not believe in God. Your father did.

Your loving Ai

28

Shekhar looks up at the clear sky and says, ‘Just as I thought. When the Met Office says it’ll rain, leave your umbrella at home.’

‘Don’t do that. Shantanu has a cold. What if the weather changes? The umbrella can stay in the car.’

Shekhar makes a face, picks up Shantanu and his umbrella and leaves for his mother’s. Sharada’s Sunday mornings are for working students. Shekhar takes Shantanu off her hands so she can get through the lessons undisturbed. Shantanu’s minder, the feisty Karishma, takes what she calls a ‘hoff’ on Sundays. She goes to the movies in the afternoon with her friends. Her real name is Kunda. But once out of school, she changed it to Karishma, after the reigning superstar of Hindi cinema.

Karishma had once said to Sharada, ‘You have such a sweet voice. Just like Lata’s. Why do you sing those boring aaaooo aaaooo songs? Don’t you know any of ours?’ ‘Ours’ meant playbacks that were presented by Karishma and Govinda, Salman and Madhuri on the silver screen. Looking for some respect from Karishma, Sharada had belted out a stanza of ‘Chhaiyya Chhaiyya’, and then, at Karishma’s special request, the whole of ‘Aati Kya Khandala’. Shantanu had dropped his toys and danced to the song with Karishma. When the song was over, Karishma had stared at Sharada with awe. ‘I swear upon my mother, what a voice! You should sing for films. You’ll have them all at your feet.’

Including Guruji, Sharada had thought wryly. Karishma couldn’t stop clicking her tongue over the tragedy. She simply couldn’t see why anybody would want to ruin themselves like this. After that day, she had listened to Sharada’s aaaooo aaaooo songs with even greater sadness.