The Life Of Myra - Chapter 9
The Life Of Myra - Chapter 97 mins 987 7 mins 987
I try to call Mayank that night but can't get through. Is he busy, at the border? I wonder.
Next morning, I wake up late. I have night duty today, so I am in no hurry.
I cook an elaborate breakfast of vegetable grilled sandwiches and some fried McCams smileys, and binge watch a series called '’The world of the married' on Netflix. And even as I watch it, I can't help wonder how much unfaithfulness, jealousy and revenge exists everywhere, in all parts of the world.
The phone rings, making me almost jump. I should keep the ringtone volume low.
It is Rasika. She thanks me for adjusting yesterday’s duty and talks about non-specific things We chat for a while, and I get the feeling that probably Rasika is trying to make up for her behaviour since the day I overslept and forgot to relieve her.
I see a call waiting.
It is Saloni.
I forgot to ping her, to apologize for running away yesterday, leaving her in the lurch.
So I say a quick good bye to Rasika, and take Saloni’s call.
“Hey Myra,” her voice sounds cheerful.
“Saloni, sorry, I didn’t mean to run out on you yesterday…”
“It's okay, not a big deal. But I was worried. You said it was an emergency. And then you never called back. So I was wondering what happened,” she says.
This is what I love about Saloni. She is not angry at me, she is worried. She is never judgemental, only supportive. That is the basic difference between her and everyone else in my life.
“Oh, it was a false alarm, nothing serious,” I say, failing to come up with a plausible lie.
Thankfully, Saloni doesn’t persist.
“When is your duty today? Afternoon?” she asks.
“No. I had replaced yesterday’s afternoon with Rasika. So today I have night duty,” I say.
“Oh, I was hoping to catch up…,” she says.
“Wanted to tell me something?” I smile. From her tone I know she is dying to share some gossip.
“You know me so well,” she laughs.
“So tell me, I am waiting with baited breath,” I smile.
“I saw Dr Shantanu and Dr Samira, having breakfast together at Joe’s Pizza corner today morning. I will bet you anything that they are really dating now. I can already hear wedding bells,” she says, gushing, as if she is the one getting married.
Somehow, this piece of information doesn’t go down well with me. I feel restless and unsettled. I like – or more like idolize and worship – Dr.Shantanu. So I just can’t imagine him doing things like these – dating a woman, lusting after a woman. Well, he might not exactly be lusting, but that is where they will ultimately lead to, isn’t it?
“Myra, are you there?” Saloni asks when I fail to respond.
“Y-yes. I am very much here. Tell me more,” I say, feeling a strange pit forming in my stomach.
“They couldn’t take their eyes off each other, you know. I mean, I was just two tables away, yet neither spotted me, even though I was practically staring at them for the entire time. It was as if no one else existed for the two of them,” Saloni says, clearly unaware of my mental turmoil.
I think I can’t hear anymore.
I pretend as if I can’t hear anymore and the signal is fading, and disconnect the call.
I sit tight, wrapping my arms around my bent knees.
Why am I feeling this way?
Is it because Viraj resembles Dr.Shantanu, and somewhere deep down, I envy what Dr. Shantanu has with Dr.Samira, which I could have had with Viraj?
There has been no update about Viraj. The police are not helping either.
I decide I will have to do some sleuthing on my own. In addition to doing what I plan for Madhumita.
I go online and in Google chrome, I check the events held at Rudolf hall in the past week..
I find the date of Vanya Thakur’s painting exhibition. The event was managed by a company called Orient managing.
I open the website of Orient Managing. I go to the staff section, and scroll through the employees. I enter ‘Viraj’ in search. There are two hits. But none of them is my Viraj.
I face palm mentally. He has disappeared even before i could say he was mine!
I am not surprised anymore.
He had lied to me. But why, I have no idea!
I try to call him one more time from my cell phone, but as usual, it is switched off.
Next, I check Madhumita’s Instagram. There are more pictures with Anish, each more cringe-worthy than the one before. One with both of the sipping coffee in their balcomy, amongst the potted plants blooming with colourful flowers, another one of both of them sitting in the love seat in the living room, her dog Snow on their lap; yet another one of them lazing around on their queen size bed that seems to be draped with a satin baby pink bed-sheet, the colour of which matches the fushcia pink and beige combination of the curtains and the wall paper in the back drop. Home is where the heart is, reads the caption, and there are about a hundred clichéd hash-tags.
I feel that familiar anger rising inside me. Not anger really, but a mixture of anger, jealousy and envy. Madhumita, Dr Samira – everyone other than me is leading the life I was meant to lead. While I rot here alone in my apartment, withering away like the dried leaves in fall season.
I have to do something. And that begins with stalking Madhumita.
I am going to sabotage her life, just the way she did with me. If not love, I need revenge.
I check Madhumita’s Facebook profile.
Her timeline is full of useless updates. But one catches my eye. She is going for a musical event tomorrow evening. I have off tomorrow. Perfect, I think.
I begin making plans about what exactly I am going to do.
By noon, still full from the sandwiches and smiley’s, and my mind full of ideas of what to do with Madhumita, I drift off to sleep. I purposefully avoid reading Jigyasa before I go to sleep, because today I want a peaceful nap, not a sleep interrupted by turbulent and vivid lucid dreams.
When I wake up, the room is dark, even though I can't say I slept for more than a few moments. I grab my cell-phone and check the time. It's 6 :45 pm. What?
I need to leave home by 7 30 pm for my 8 pm shift!
I am worried. This is the second time that I have slept for an entire day, and yet feeling like I slept only a few moments. The last time it happened was the day the painting from Madhumita's friend’s exhibition got sabotaged. I hope there's nothing that’s happened today that can be conveniently blamed on me.
I take a hot shower, feeling the water releasing the tight knots in my neck muscles. I use my Jasmine shampoo, because I Iove the way its fragrance stays in my hair.
Later, I switch on the news as I blow dry my hair, when all of a sudden, I freeze.
"Bringing you the breaking news," the news anchor is saying, "from City hospital. A dermatologist, Dr Samira Shroff, was found unconscious in her cabin, discovered by the peon when he came to lock the cabins in the evening. Dr. Samira was last seen in the cafeteria at around 2 pm with Dr Shantanu Singh, a physician at the same hospital. Afterwards, she failed to take rounds of her ward, and didn't attend the laser procedure scheduled by her. Her cell phone was switched off, and search for her began. It was around the same time, 4:30 pm, that the peon discovered her lying unconscious in her cabin. There are no CCTV's installed outside the staff cabins so we cannot be sure who visited her, at the moment. The police have taken Dr Shantanu Singh for questioning. Dr Samira's parents have shifted her to Sapphire hospital even as her condition continues to stay critical, as they cite fear that whoever attacked their daughter might still be lurking around the hospital. It is not yet clear how she became unconscious as no physical injury has been visible yet. But we will be the first to bring you the information as soon as we get it..."
I feel as if the floor has been snatched from underneath my feet.
How is it possible? Who would do it? And why? Did anyone not approve of her relationship with Dr Shantanu? Just the way I felt? But that didn't mean I would knock her unconscious!
Or would I?