The Gift

From the Diary of Dhanesh Majithia….

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It’s Kalpana’s birthday, tomorrow. Her tenth one.

Kalpana’s my best friend. She has been, right from the time she moved in, three years ago. The newest attention-seeking, annoying, noise polluting, irritating addition on the block. I remember the first time our respective parents met, with their respective fake smiles, stilted conversations and awkward pauses, till the topics meandered towards us, where one-up man ship, disguised as self-deprecating humility took over. And then we were told to go and play in her room, so they could continue their long talk to boredom. I remember calling her room a Pinky Room and wrinkling my nose and her best comeback was to call me a rowdy boy. And we called each other names, from the cartoon characters we were acquainted with. As the name dropping picked up speed, we grew angry and then we got angrier and angrier till the insults became too ridiculous and then we started laughing. After some time, in a burst of inspiration, she hit me and I hit her back and we called each other more names. And that cemented a friendship for the ages.

She called me Donkesh, for my name Dhanesh. How very original. Equally so, the name Kallu for her Kalpana. And the names stuck and neither of us seemed to mind, when we called each other that. It became natural, a part of our friendzoning persona. But nobody else could call us that. When it came to others, we were united, though we would fight tooth and nail against each other. Dhanesh and Kalpana - Donkesh and Kallu. Jai and Veeru.

“See how pretty I am” she used to say “just like my Barbie, right?”

“Not Barbie - you’re as pretty as Annabelle” I used to reply and snigger and there used to be another storm of arguments and fighting after that.

“One day – Donkesh! You just wait and see. One day, I’m going to be beautiful.”

“That’ll be the day” I hit back.

My parents joked that when we grew up, we’d probably get married. Yuckkkk!

Who marries a bestie? Parents are so stupid! Blecchhh!

Her parents were sensible, I guess. They didn’t like such talk. And I used to overhear something about cast. What cast? I wasn’t wearing any cast. Was I hearing or spelling it wrong? Who knows?

We were both known in our society and in our school as the most mischievous little monkeys they had encountered. We got into so much trouble. But somehow everyone knew that we didn’t mean anything with our mischief. We just liked to raise hell and prank everyone. And our teachers were stern with us, but they loved us and enjoyed being with us.

And so – two years went by.

Many trips together. In the school play together. Running the races together, she topping the girls race and me topping the boys one. If one got an award and the other didn’t, it was ragging time. The parents didn’t need to motivate us anymore.

Last year we both turned nine. It had been a wonderful birthday. We each had a pack of friends, but we were the best buds. And would be, for life. What a conviction I had. Wasn’t I the funny one. 

Then she abruptly stopped coming to school. I don’t know why. At first, her parents told me that she was not well. Even my parents told me that. They told me that I couldn’t go and visit her anymore.

I was aghast. It was inexplicable.

My best friend, my bestie, my cutest, sweetest little buddy was not well and I couldn’t visit her, couldn’t call her, couldn’t FT her. Why?

It was heartbreaking. And when I asked, my parents first explained to me gently that it was not possible. As I grew insistent, their voices grew angrier and the carrot was also replaced by a stick, a couple of times.

Then I resolved that one way or the other, I was going to see what the hell was going on.

One night, after it had stopped raining, I told my parents that I’m going to go play with my society friends. After Kalpana stopped coming out, this was a regular feature and so they didn’t think much about it.

I lived on the 5th floor of our building, and she was on the 3rd floor of the adjacent building. The heights didn’t matter. The space developing between us was a chasm which I had to negotiate. It was beyond any structures and measurements.

My heart beating fast, I slipped into an ante room that was wedged between the building entrance and the parking space. It was used by the security, but I knew this was the time they stepped out for a smoke. There were pipes starting or ending there and running the length of the building. The pipes overlooked the back of the kitchen, the beams and washrooms (I had no intention of straying near those).

And so I started clambering up those pipes. It was dark and dank and slippery and I could see cobwebs and something that looked like green colored moss or algae. I knew that someone would come any time and then the game would be up. I had to be fast.

I went up the pipes. I realized that they were damp and moist and foul smelling and even rusty in a couple of places. I reached the 3rd floor. I maneuvered myself so that I could look into all the three flats and I recognized the one that she lived in - I’d been to her house more times than I was in mine. And I realized that a portion of her bedroom was also visible.

I slowly crept along the small crevices that were jutting out of the wall like an ugly outcrop. I was a fool, an idiot, I knew. If I fell, anything could happen. I could dislocate my shoulders, break my spine, who knows what else.

I shook all these morbid thoughts off my head. I wasn’t in the school gymnastics team for nothing. There were several railings and notches built into the wall to hold on to. I crept slowly towards the bedroom and peered inside.

What I saw in the next few minutes was a shock, a total, complete, absolute, unbelievable shock. Pure terror filled my heart, my body shook, first with revulsion and then with grief. Tears filled my eyes and clouded my vision. I clenched my teeth and gripped the notches tighter, I was afraid the sheer enormity of what I witnessed would make me fall.

Fortunately, she was sleeping. She did not see me. She was breathing evenly. There was a photograph next to her bed - a photograph of her and me. I looked at it and tears were streaming down my face. My heart was broken. It still is, to this very day.

I made my way down, slowly. Desolation filled me, a kind of wrenching sadness gripped me. I realized I could never breathe a word of this to anyone. I realized why my parents admonished me, what they had been thinking.

The next few days were a daze. My parents noticed the change in my behavior but I overheard them saying that it was probably adolescence creeping up slowly. They never once suspected that I had seen what I wasn’t supposed to see. And they never suspected the turmoil going inside my head.

And then suddenly, her tenth birthday was coming up.

I was told that it would be a private affair. Their parents and a few of their relatives. They were going to hold a small party - they said. And they were going to decorate the room with her favorite dolls - Her Barbies. But none of her friends were invited.

Her Barbies. Yes - that was her obsession. The Barbies with their sweet face and their beautiful adorable hair, that Kalpana would try to imitate - unsuccessfully. And the smile, which she would again attempt.

I overheard my parents talking to each other, today morning.

“Why have they kept those stupid Barbies in the passage?”

I guess the fact that the parents were also mocking Kallu’s parents meant that they too were best friends. Unless adults behaved differently. I don’t know. The conversation continued.

“Hush! Dhanesh will wake up.”

“But shouldn’t they be decorating the hall?”

“They’re starting tomorrow morning. Early. She told me.”

“Oh.”

“And the Barbies had been in storage. They have to keep them out to let the dust and mold off them. So that they’ll look fresh.”

“But why Barbies?”

“She loves them. She’s obsessed with them. I’ve heard she’s always been crying and whimpering. They even showed her two-three Barbies but she still wouldn’t stop sniffling. So now they’re doing the whole shebang, decorating an entire room. Maybe that will make her smile.”

“Really? And what are we getting her? Now that Dhanesh is no longer playing with her, are we still supposed to get anything?”

“Of course we should, my dear. That’s why I also bought one and placed it over there - separately - as a gift from Dhanesh.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Hush - I think Dhanesh is up.”

I did step out then but I made as if I was still in the dregs of sleep. Pretending as if I hadn’t overheard them, I asked if I could go over tomorrow.

“She’s still not well” they told me. “She’s recovering, she’s feeling better”.

I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. This so-called serendipitous insight wasn’t going to deter me one jot, however. Because, one thing I was sure of - I was not going to let Kallu suffer any more. No matter what.

A terrible plan was forming in my mind. A terrible plan. Yes. I had tossed and turned the whole night. And I dream-walked the whole day today, going over the plan, agonising over the details, horrified that I could even think up something like this.

Late that evening, when my parents went to bed, I went into the kitchen. If they woke up, I’d tell them that I was having a glass of water. I was actually searching for a glass, but not the one that would hold water; the one that held all the kitchen knives.

I took one of the knives. The sharpest one in the kitchen. I took one more, for insurance. I tested them with my fingers, they were very sharp. One of those knives was a jagged, serrated one so I had to be really really careful. My jaw was set in a firm line, a steely determination had taken hold of me. I had to do this. A strange emotion overcame me as I held those two knives in my hand, I could sense an involuntary gnashing of the teeth, as if in raw subtle anticip

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ation, I could sense the prickly sensation of the hair rising on the nape of my neck, I could sense the dryness of my throat, as a counterpoint to the rising ebullience in my mind, I could sense and my senses were in deep shock. It was as if a strange hypnosis had overtaken me, leading me forward like an automaton and I stared with dull, grey lifeless eyes at the twin merchants of death in my hands.

Using both knives would ensure that it was quick. And painless.

Yes. Quick. And painless.

A slash of one knife with the right hand and the other knife with the left hand and that would be that. She was my bestie after all. What I saw - I knew that this was the only way. The only way. I couldn’t bear it any more. And I knew that she would understand.

The only way.

I shivered with the thought. I wondered what would happen - what everyone would think of me. But I was committed now. There was no turning back. She was my best friend. Adults don’t understand these things. Friendship doesn’t count for much as you grow older - it’s just exchange of favours - that’s what I’ve learnt. But that was not the case with me and Kallu. It went deeper, right into our souls.

I slowly crept up to my parents room. I could hear their regular breathing. Great. Not a care in the world. Then I sidled to the door. It creaked a little as it opened. I stepped out, my heart was beating fast. It was pitch black out there.

I knew I could not use the lift. The security would wonder who was coming down at this ungodly hour and if they saw me, there would be hell to pay. I crept down the stairs, the knives in my hand. I reached the landing and just as I had anticipated, the security guard was fast asleep. There was the faint pungent smell of alcohol and nicotine in the air so I knew how his Friday night had transpired. I gave up a silent prayer for all the sleeping souls of the building, putting their trust into this guard, who was sleeping his booze off. And I moved on.

I crept across the landing. I froze as he moved, but he was still asleep, just mumbling and rubbing his hands across his face. I crept over to the adjoining building.

Same story. The security there was snoring away as well. God help us if some random thief decided to try his luck in our society. Wouldn’t take a Sherlock to decode the root cause.

I crept up to the third floor. I saw all the Barbies there in the passage - taken out of storage like they had said - all arrayed across the floor. And soon to be part of the decoration. Of my best friend’s tenth birthday. And there was the Barbie from my parents - ostensibly from me - signed, sealed and delivered - from my friend’s bestie, Donkesh. But written formally - Dhanesh Majithia. No donkey pic drawn there. My Kallu’s propah high society burgeois parents would look askance, at such proletarian nonsense.

The levity of the moment passed as I realized what I was here for. I lifted my Barbie gift up and stared at it. The Barbie stared back. I clutched at it - terror seizing my heart. This was one of those life changing moments, I guess. But no - there was no turning back.

Then I crept to her door. The two sharp knives were burning a hole in my pockets. I knew the combination pad to their home and with bated breath, I tried it. There was a soft beep. My heart was in my mouth - what if they had changed it? But they hadn’t. There was a click. And the door opened.

I took out my knives. I entered. And I knew where her bedroom was. I crept up to it slowly and saw her sweet face. The knives in my hand glittered and glistened in the moonlight.

One slash with the right hand. And another with the left.

Quick and painless.

She stirred in her sleep. Woke up. And saw me.

It was now or never.

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Diary ends.

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In the Patels’ household, the day dawned bright and cheery and with it, the parents of the household. Their daughter was turning 10. Quite a big deal, actually. The parents vowed that their eyes would reflect only happiness today. No pain. She was sleeping - so they didn’t disturb her. Let her sleep in some more, today.

One by one, the relatives trickled in. The atmosphere was one of muted celebration with an overhang of gloom, permeating the atmosphere. But they were all determined to put up a brave face. Today was their darling Kalpana’s birthday. They came and pressed the parents’ hands and sat about, scrolling through their phones and discussing politics. The parents were deep into the preparations.

“I hope that irritating Sanjana isn’t coming”

“Cmon dear - don’t be mean. Dhanesh and Kalpana, they’re best friends.”

“He’s a pesky boy, Rajeev. Why can’t he hang out with other boys? Sanjana doesn’t say anything to him”

“Rids - this is not the time and place, ok? It’s the new gen - they’re not like us. And anyways - They’re not coming - they just sent their own Barbie - let’s just focus on today”.

“Ha. Wonder where she got it. They prefer Manish market, to our Manish Malhotra…”

They started decorating all the Barbies and putting up the decors - the cake was ordered. It had an unpronounceable French name and the mother tittered as she described it. Everyone gathered around, admiring glances and words.

“Let’s wake her up. Morning surprise”.

Ridisha went up to the bedroom door. The last few weeks had been very bad for her, but today, she was going to forget all of that - today she was going to give her angel, the best birthday of her life. The Barbies, the décor, the cake. Today -

She opened the door.

And screamed……

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Sanjana and Yogesh entered their son’s bedroom. He was sleeping. There was a smile on his face. They shook him and he woke up.

The moment he looked at them, a deep fiery blush appeared on his face - the blush of guilt, that has just been caught. There was also confusion - they did not seem angry. They seemed resigned. And they were staring at him, oddly. He was expecting to receive a thrashing with the belt or a few slaps at least but both of them were looking at him, silently, strangely – as if they were looking at him in a new light. They sat on the bed, on both sides of him. That’s when they saw the two knives, lying by his side - he had been so careful - crept back again - did not use the lifts - used the combination lock to enter - put his shoes inside the rack quickly - but the adrenalin had wore off by then – bringing with it, the realisation of what he had done - and a wave of exhaustion overtook him, he walked sleepily to his bed, carrying those knives with them. They were lying on his side, both perpetrators and accusers to his deed.

Sanjana collected the knives and handed them to Yogesh who took them to the kitchen and came back again.

“Tell us, Dhanesh” she was saying.

Dhanesh started crying. His choking melancholy sobs reflected the torment he was going through and the fear about what was to happen next. He continued unabated for the next few minutes and his parents did not stop him. Soon the crying stopped and he sniffed and rubbed his eyes and nose.

“Tell me” she said again, insistent and firm, but gentle.

So he told them. Everything.

“You must come and see Kalpana’s parents” Yogesh said. “They want to meet you. Don’t be afraid”.

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It was a small reunion of sorts. Dhanesh and both sets of parents were gathered in Kalpana’s living room. Dhanesh looked around the house he had come to like so much, and from time to time, he glanced at the bedroom door. Kalpana’s relatives were also assembled. The Barbies were all looking at him. All the Barbies - except the one that he had given.

Ridisha came forward and squeezed his hand. “What did you do, Dhanesh? Kalpana hasn’t smiled, she hasn’t laughed in ages. And she couldn’t stop smiling today. When I saw the spectacle, I was horrified but then I saw her grinning face and my heart leaped with joy, Beta. What is this? What’s the secret? I’ve asked her but she isn’t telling me. She is so happy, today. She just said that you have given her the best gift and she doesn’t want anything else. Come, see how she’s sleeping. And show me what gift you gave her”.

She was gushing all over and she couldn’t contain herself…..

And Ridisha opened the door and showed him. There was Kalpana, sleeping, with a smile on her face. Dhanesh smiled too - seeing that at last he had brought that sweet smile back to her face - a face ravaged by cancer, hollow cheeks, sunken eyes, a wasteland of pain and misery, the destruction wrought by chemotherapy clearly visible like a hurricane across her body. And yet smiling. Cancer. He had been taught about it recently and he had read about it but the full horrific awful import had hit him when he had balanced himself on that ledge and seen his best friend, slowly getting eaten by this savage, deadly, monstrous disease.

Dhanesh stared at her for some time. Then he tiptoed into the room and went to her corner bedroom shelf. He pulled out the gift box in which his Barbie had been. The mess in the room had apparently been cleared up. And then he and Kalpana’s mother walked back into the hall.

They all gathered around the box, solemnly, wondering what was so special. And then he pulled out his Barbie.

And the Barbie’s hair had been slashed and ripped off, much like Kalpana’s own hair had been, due to the chemotherapy and the Barbie was completely bald, just like Kalpana was now and the Barbie’s hair was in the box, just like Kalpana’s hair had once been on her head. And the Barbie’s skull had deep indentations, due to the desperate, violent slashing of the knives, much like Kalpana’s own head, which bore angry marks of sores and injuries.

They all gasped and stared at him, stunned.

Dhanesh looked back at them and smiled. His eyes were bright with tears as he said:

“See? This Barbie also has cancer! Just like Kallu. And I showed her to Kallu and Kallu looked at her and smiled. And she said, ‘see Donkesh? I told you. I’m beautiful…..”