The Aura

The tea is steaming hot. I keep it at the edge of the table to cool it down a bit. Meanwhile, I switch on my phone and surf through all the notifications. I find a very amusing food vlog and pick up the cup of tea, planning to take a sip as I watch the video. Just then, the phone rings, my Far from Any Road ringtone filling the room.

The name on the screen is very familiar. Prakash, my old college friend.

"Hey man! How are you doing?", I take the call excitedly.

The voice on the other end does not meet my level of excitement.

As I hear him speak, I silently sip the hot tea, oblivious to my tongue getting scalded. As I hang up ten minutes later, I run a hand through my hair. I feel numerous beads of perspiration on my forehead. I desperately try to gather everything he said.

Anuj and Rajiv were best friends from day one of college. They used to do everything together- trips, college contests, performances during college fests. The thing which both of them loved a lot was travelling. They remain best of friends even now.

Two days earlier, they reached Dhanbad and checked into a hotel close to the railway station. Last afternoon, Prakash called Rajiv. Rajiv gave him a brief idea about the food they had. He asked Prakash if he had the contact number of Tewatia, a mutual friend who lives in Dhanbad. Prakash called him back thirty minutes later with Tewatia's number, but Anuj picked up the phone this time. Anuj sounded very distressed and said Rajiv had gone somewhere and hadn't returned yet. Prakash didn't understand and asked about the details. Anuj had hung up abruptly. Prakash had called them again and again, but every time the mechanical voice told him the devices were switched off. Prakash called up all the hotels around Dhanbad station. He struck gold in one. The receptionist told him that they indeed had guests going by those names. He checked and informed them that their room was empty except for their luggage. Prakash told him not to clear the room. Finally, he called me up in the evening, me being his closest friend from college. 

I agreed to go with him to Dhanbad and look around a bit before going to the police. Maybe it's just a prank, we thought.

Prakash calls at night saying that the tickets have been booked. I go to bed and even after an hour, I find myself gazing at the ceiling.

As the train slows at a station, I check my watch and look outside. A small station with the signboards reading Andal Junction.

Prakash keeps his phone in his pocket and looks outside.

"The train is running fifteen minutes late", he says.

"Shruti?", I ask, referring to the call he just received.

"Yes", he smiles awkwardly.

We both look outside to get over the awkwardness.

"What do you think about the new Coldplay album?", Prakash desperately changes the topic.

My watch says twelve when we reach the hotel. Prakash talks with the receptionist and gets to know that the receptionist he talked to over phone would start his shift at two pm. We decide not to tell this new receptionist our story and instead just ask for the keys to room 303. We lost our keys, we say. He asks for our names and phone numbers which we answer accurately. We have been calling those numbers so many times that they were etched in our memories by now.

The damp smell hits me as I open the door. I quickly pick up a can placed on a table and spray the room freshener all around. Prakash looks at me with a strange expression.

We keep our bags and check the room. Two beds, a desk, three huge cupboards and a chair were all the furniture in the room. We check the bathroom. I pull open all the drawers of the desk. Nothing. Prakash starts opening the cupboards. One has a few kinds of glasses in it. The second is empty. The third is locked. I search for a key but it's nowhere to be found.

I find a bag in one corner of the room. That's all the luggage? I open the bag and understand it's Rajiv's. Dresses, deodorant sprays, two books. Where is Anuj's luggage? We don't find it anywhere.

It's thirty past twelve and I decide to take a shower. Thirty minutes later, I sit on the edge of the bed as Prakash takes a shower. The damp smell, yet again. I spray the room freshener and return to the bed. What is in the locked cupboard? I try to think of options.

"It's two pm", I say as I stuff a piece of chicken into my mouth.

"Let's eat fast", Prakash takes a huge bite of the burger.

I was about to say let's pack these when a person approached our table. I understand it's the person who we have been waiting for.

"Please sit", Prakash requests.

The man takes a seat. I notice the name of the hotel printed on the identity card hanging around his neck.

"Your friends never interacted with the reception except when they checked in. No room service. No complaints", he says blandly.

We nod.

"Are you thinking about contacting the police?", he asks.

"Yes", I say.

Prakash nods in the negative.

"No", he says. I'm taken aback.

"Firstly", he continues, "do you have CCTVs in the hall outside the room?"

The receptionist looks at both of us and senses the disagreement. Then he looks at me.

"We can't allow others to view our footage", he says grimly.

"Understandable", I say. We're not the police, I think.

Prakash nods vehemently. Then, my eyebrows go up as he pulls out his wallet and keeps it on the table. He opens the wallet, pulls out a five hundred rupee note and slides it across the table, towards the receptionist. I watch in awe as the man smiles, picks the note up and gets up.

"Meet me fifteen minutes later", he leaves.

Prakash makes a gesture that screams 'That's how it's done' and concentrates on the food.

I should be feeling good that this worked, instead I feel a bit of anger inside me. Inferiority complex?

"There he goes", says the receptionist.

"It's Anuj!", Prakash exclaims and looks at me. Then he concentrates on the screen.

"16 09 says the timestamp. I tried his number at four, I remember, it already said switched off by then!", he looks at us, like a brilliant detective at work.

I clench my teeth.

"Enough!", I shout and slam my palms down on the table.

They both gasp in shock and watch me as I shout.

"You're not a detective for God's sake! You're wasting valuable time! We should go to the police. Right now".

The receptionist starts, "But we have clues now. Just think how much time the police would hav-"

"Shut up", I snarl at him, "you're not with us. You did what you did because you took money. Now just shut up!"

"Hey", Prakash says softly as he touches my elbow.

I shake his hand away, "Don't you dare. Your detective games can cost their lives! Grow up, Prakash!"

Prakash's eyes light up. He barks, "Don't you tell me to grow up, Raj. All of us know who's immature among us".

Then he storms off.

I glance at the receptionist one last time. He averts his gaze quickly. Then I walk off.

"Hey", Prakash says softly as I enter and close the door behind me.

I raise my hands up.

"Sorry", I look down.

"I'm sorry too", Prakash continues softly.

"It's okay", I stop him.

"Okay", he says, "Let's see what details we have till now. After that we'll go to the police. First we should exhaust all the resources we have at hand".

I feel his gaze. He's waiting for an answer.

I nod in agreement. He exhales tiredly and falls on the bed. I sit on the edge of the other bed, staring straight at the cupboard.

Look at all his soft demeanour. What does he think he is? He acts all the time like he is in charge! 'Come on Raj, cool it'. 'Come on Raj, it's me who's great'. 'It's me who's decisions are perfect'. 'I'm the cool detective'. Rubbish! It's obviously clear that I am the one who's talking sanely. Look at us, wasting time sitting and sleeping in a hotel room when we should be searching the city for our friends, with help from the police!

I shake my head and stare harder at the cupboard. The damp smell again. I get up to get the room freshener again when Prakash's phone starts ringing. I turn and look at him, half expecting him to exclaim in joy and shout 'It's Anuj! They're okay! They just lost their way around the city!'

But he looks at the screen and then at me, his expression turning awkward. I understand and look away. I was going to get the room freshener. I start to spray it.

"Hey", I hear Prakash speak softly into the phone.

"No, nothing yet. We looked at the CCTV footage and found.."

Suddenly, in that damp and small room of a cheap Dhanbad hotel, I feel something in my chest. A wave. A wave of sadness. A wave of longing. A wave of despair. I transport back sixteen years. The only thing which stays with me through the journey is the damp smell.

We were in second year then. It was a warm summer day. I see everything. The light drizzle just after sunset. The cab arriving. I see myself laughing with joy, with pleasure, without a single shred of doubt in my mind.

And there she was. Beside me, laughing and gazing out of the car window. The rainy evening, the people scurrying for cover, the raindrops pattering down on the car windows and blurring the neon signs at a distance. The cab whizzing through this ancient city, the driver a distant alien. The two passengers, creating the tiniest of universes. I was thrown back into the past.

"I hope the food is as good as he said", I laugh.

"He's well known for his recommendations", she giggles wildly.

"Come on, Shruti", I laugh hysterically. I turn to look out of the window again. Suddenly, I feel two hands clutch my shirt and pull me. The car slows down to a stop, the raindrops become bigger and everything worldly becomes just another drab piece of blur. Nothing remains except a big warm smile and the ethereal lingering of a sensation on my lips.

Like a thunderbolt, everything changes around me. The cab changes into a birthday party. The rain into glitters. The silence into loud music. The neon signs into party lights. I am standing with Anuj, laughing. Then, as if someone blended two incidents into one, the atmosphere changed, yet again. The music stopped, everything became very still, everyone stopped in their positions, time stopped. I gulp down a knot in my throat. I watch and watch, and watch. Then, time starts again, people laugh and talk around me, the music changes and people dance to the tune. I still watch those two figures near the table. Oblivious to everything around them, like that rainy summer evening. My closest friend Prakash. And Shruti.

Right then, another thunderbolt happens. A distant soft laugh. That same laugh which I yearn to hear, even after these many years. Prakash laughs back into the phone.

"Bye", he says softly.

I feel his gaze turn to me.

"Raj? What are you doing with the room freshener again? Listen. As I was saying. We need to put everything together".

He stops to think. Then he continues, "They had lunch at around two. Then they returned to their room. I called Rajiv at three. We talked. I called him again with Tewatia's number at thirty past three. Anuj picks up and says he can't find Rajiv. Then he hangs up. After that, his phone is switched off. At nine past four, Anuj walks out of the room. We watched the footage till then. We never saw Rajiv get out of the room, did we? Raj? Do you hear.."

The arrogance. The ego. The air of all-knowing. I turn around.

I can see the look in his eyes. 

Bewilderment. 

I walk closer to him.

"Hey..", he says softly.

I lose it. I raise the room freshener and hit him on the head.

Fear.

I hit him again. He tries to raise his hands and protect his head. He fails.

Pleading.

I feel my hands trembling. I hit him again. I feel some liquid hit my forehead. It's blood.

I can't see his eyes anymore. Just blood.

I hit him again. And again. I feel the tears on my face mingle with the blood. The saliva, the sweat. Everything blends into one and drips down my chin, and falls on the mangled face in front of me. I still hit the deformed mass of flesh and blood and bones in front of me. The bottle of room freshener is distorted and caked with blood. I throw it away in disgust.

I sit on the floor, my head reclining on the edge of the bed. I am in a trance. What is that sound? Is that a radio? A television? I look around. Everything is hazy. I finally find the source of the sound. It's Prakash's phone.

I half expect someone's call yet again. And I see it's true.

"Hello", I speak softly.

"Guess what I just found? It's-"

The eager voice on the other end stops as she recognises.

"Raj?"

Suddenly something changes inside me. Everything clears. I look around the room and all the blood around me. My throat dries up and I feel my heart beating thunderously.

"Listen", I almost whisper, my voice trembling, "Prakash went somewhere and hasn't returned yet".

"What? What are you saying? I talked to him just ten minutes before!"

It takes my mind a moment to register the mistake I just made.

"Please, Raj. What happened? Answer me, please".

I hang up. My hands tremble. I switch off the phone and take a moment to calm myself. I go to the bathroom and wash my face and hands. I pull Prakash's body behind the bed and clean up the blood in front of the door. My hands still trembling, I open the door and leave the room. I have to find the key. I'll stuff the body into the cupboard. I rush across the hall to the reception. I glance up and see the CCTV camera.

The receptionist smiles.

"Um", I clear my throat, "do you have a key to the cupboards in the room?"

The receptionist nods and is about to search the desk when he stops. Then he turns to me. His expression has changed.

"Your friend. Anuj. He also asked for the same key yesterday. I completely forgot about this", he said animatedly.

"Okay", I try to be as normal as I can be. Then I pull out my wallet. I tuck a five hundred rupee note into the receptionist's pocket.

"I want to see the rest of the footage", I tell the bewildered man.

14 09 hours. Anuj leaves the room. He comes to the receptionist. Asks for keys to the cupboards. 14 13 hours. Anuj returns to the room. 14 27 hours. Anuj leaves, a bag with him.

"Oh my God", the receptionist remarks, "He left yesterday. He didn't pass by the reception though. I am sure of that. I was here".

"Do you have any other exits? Are there any CCTV cameras there?"

In another ten minutes, I see it all. Anuj leaves through the fire exit. He asks the security guard at the exit something and then waits. The guard leaves and returns another ten minutes later, with a taxi. He hands the guard a few notes and leaves.

I eye the receptionist. He nods understandably and picks up his telephone. In two minutes, the security guard comes up to the reception. The gentleman yesterday asked him to arrange a taxi to Kolkata, he says, frightened.

I run a hand through my hair and wait. The receptionist hands me a set of keys.

"These are the last keys I've to those cupboards", he says.

I nod and rush off with the keys without looking back. I lock the door and pull the body closer to the cupboard. I put the key in and unlock the cupboard.

The smell hits first. Then the sight. It is Rajiv. That curly hair is the only thing due to which I can recognise him. I look at the body near my feet and the one lying in the cupboard. Ignore the dresses and the hairstyles and you have two identical bodies. I stand blankly for a minute. Then with a grunt, I pick the body up off the floor and stuff it into the cupboard. My hands are trembling again. I throw the bloody can of room freshener into the cupboard. Then I lock it up and go to the bathroom. I flush the keys down the toilet. Then I return to the room and pick up my bag. I stop for a moment. What is guiding me through all this? Who is making all these plans for me? I look around the room. My eyes fix on the cupboard. No one got the smell of a decaying dead body? Even Prakash did not get the damp smell. I stare at the cupboard. A thought hits me out of the blue. I should get going.

I lock the door and hurry. I run to the emergency door and race down the stairs. The security guard looks at me, astonished. I have the note ready in my hand. I push it into his palm and blabber, "Taxi. Kolkata".