The Wrong Brother

The incessant rain lashed against the windshield, battering it, in relentless, deafening sheets. It was the driver’s expertise that was keeping the sedan steady, the road was appearing like a bursting river, carrying the sedan on it’s currents. There was silence on the road, all noise drowned by the downpour, as cracks of thunder and lightning also permeated the horizon overhead. But that silence was matched, by silence within the sedan as well, heavy and depressing, as three silent people sat in the car, hurtling forward by it’s momentum and the driver’s almost careless negotiation of the path ahead.

Sameer kept his eyes fixed, on the black ribbon of the lonely, rain drenched highway. His outward demeanour was stoic, but inwardly, he was seething, his hands gripping the steering wheel, in a white knuckled stranglehold, his mind wishing that it was Lalita’s soft neck.

Beside him sat Lalita, his wife of a few years, staring out unseeing, out of the passenger window, into the ink black void, into the valley that yawned across the side of this unending road. Her eyes held a kind of helplessness, mixed with resignation, forlorn and yet determined, a contrasting miasma of emotions flitting across her face, as she watched the cacophony of gravel crunches, silent, soulless and rigid.

And in the back seat sat Ajay. The identical twin brother of Sameer. Identical in everything, except achievements, playing the second fiddle, the right hand man, the assistant, the helper, the occasional doormat if you will, he sat there, equally silent, not breaking the withering bond between his brother and the brother’s wife, but all the while, watching, absorbing, assimilating, the soft sensual light that emanated from her heavenly face, glinting clearly across the car’s dashboard. There too, it was Sameer who had pipped the prize, while Ajay had sat back, drowning his tears and later his consciousness in alcohol, listening to ghazals and Shayaris on unrequited love.

The silence was broken by Sameer. A long, bitter sigh, that cut through the sound of the engines. "Must we do this every time we travel together?" Sameer asked, his voice ice cold.

"Do what, Sameer?" Lalita replied, without turning her head.

She had sensed the inflection in his voice and knew the recriminations that would follow. But she was tired now, tired of it all, of having to bear the cross of their failed marriage.

"Sit in utter misery, the way you’re doing now, as if even the idea of being near me, is a prison sentence!"

Lalita was silent for a minute. Then she whispered "Sameer, you made the rules of this marriage, not me. I am simply abiding by your rules."

"I am sick of this, Lalita. I am sick of this silence. I am sick of us. Of this sham of a marriage"  

Sameer’s voice was cutting edge crisp and delivered in short statacco bursts.

Ajay shifted uncomfortably in the back, his chest tightening with every word. He did not know where to look, he had become good friends with Lalita though he wanted more; he had never crossed boundaries before, but watching this unfold before him was becoming too much to bear.

The contempt in Sameer’s voice flayed him, as if he was the one being slapped. Physically slapped. Sameer was treating his treasure like trash. A familial convenience of a marriage, followed, as all could see, by quiet indifference and finally rotting into mutual disdain. Ajay, the collateral damage in this Greek tragedy, this catharsis, somehow made to sit on the sidelines, caught in a whirlpool not of his own making.

For Sameer, she was timid, lifeless, an ambition-killer, a burden, a chain, and she transformed to a graceful swan, a soft laughter and a quiet dignity, when Ajay put on his lens. Now however, she sat there, playing back-and-forth with Sameer’s caustic barbs and Ajay cringed with every forehand and backhand in that volley. His secret agony of a love, buried by an implied brotherhood, but coming forth as an understanding friend, throttled now, in times like these, as the stranger, the third party to this friction.

"If you hate me so much, Sameer, why don’t you let me go," Lalita whispered softly and there was no mocking veneer in her voice.

"And face the scandal?? My father’s company depends on our union!" Sameer shouted.

"So we just bleed each other dry, forever?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"It seems to be that way. I don’t think we have any choice" Sameer sneered. “And please! Stop your bloody tears, ok? They don’t fool anyone!”

Sameer pressed his foot harder, on the accelerator.

"Slow down, Sameer," Ajay said from the back seat, leaning forward. His voice was hushed, shocked with what he had just heard.

"MIND YOUR OWN BLOODY BUSINESS, AJAY!" Sameer screamed, glaring at Ajay, in the rearview mirror.

Ajay sat back in shock and looked at Lalita; she stared at Sameer, her eyes wide as well.

“Sameer, what’s wrong with you? He’s just trying to tell you to slow down! The roads are so slick and the visibility is zero. Sameer, I –”

“JUST SHUT UP!!” Sameer shouted at Lalita. “Don’t you lecture me about my driving.” Then he craned his neck and looked at Ajay. “And YOU!” he shouted. “You think I’m blind? You think I can’t see how you’ve been looking at Lalita?”

Both Ajay and Lalita sunk back into their seats, stunned. Ajay had grown red.

"What are you talking about?" he said, his heart skipping a beat, his voice shaking with manufactured anger.

"You think I’m blind, Ajay?? The way you look at my wife! Pathetic!”

"Sameer, STOP IT!" Lalita shouted, her eyes wide with sudden anger.

"The hell I will!” Sameer yelled. “Shut up, the both of you! And you, especially, Lalita! Bloody slut!"

At that moment, Sameer turned his head, entirely off the road.

"Sameer, look out!!" Ajay screamed.

In a second, the world changed for three people. A massive truck had jackknifed across the slick asphalt, right ahead. Sameer yanked the wheel in a desperate, mad attempt, to avoid the inevitable collision. But it was too late.

The tires lost all traction, shrieking against the slick, wet pavement. The sedan spun totally out of control, a violent whirl into the darkness. Mind, body, heart and soul ceased to function, as everything became centred on the moment.

Survival.

The sedan crashed through the wooden guardrails and plunged down the steep embankment. Metal screeched, metal groaned, glass shattered, shards sparkled and sprinkled and then came the impact. An indescribable sound.

The car smashed into an ancient tree and the terrifying spectacle came to a halt.

Followed by silence.

An absolute, dead, ringing silence.

Smoke. Billowing from the crumpled hood. The smell of hot oil and plastic, permeating the nostrils.

In the front seat, Lalita slumped against the deployed airbag. A thin stream of blood down her forehead. But her chest rose and fell. Not in rhythmic patterns, but still.

But not Sameer.

The enraged, desperately angry and bitter husband was in the driver’s seat. But his head was bent at an unnatural, horrific angle. Eyes wide, blank, glassy, unstaring, vacant, never ever to know human emotion, as devoid of compassion in death, as they had been, in life.

Instant death.

In the back, a man coughed and groaned. Ajay.

He winced in pain, shooting pain screaming through his bruised ribs.

After a while, his eyes fluttered open and he looked around and perceived the danger. Hot oil. Leakage, maybe. He didn’t want to survive the crash, only to die in an explosion. God had been marciful, that way.

He unbuckled his seatbelt with trembling hands and kicked open his dented door. Everything was steaming hot to the touch. But he was alive.

Yes. Alive.

He scrambled out into the mud, coughing and retching. Fortunately, the rain had lightened into a drizzle and it washed over his blackened face.

He scrambled over to the passenger door and pulled it open. Then he reached for Lalita, checked her pulse. Thank God. It was steady and strong; she was merely knocked unconscious. His dear darling Lalita was all right.

Then his attention turned to Sameer. Alpha male Sameer. The man who had caught him out. Ajay felt him, felt for his pulse. There was none.

No pulse. No breath. No life.

Tears streamed down Ajay’s eyes. Even as a second fiddle, love had found it’s way between the jealousy and envy that was to be his destiny. Sameer was his brother, identical twin brother and he was now gone.

Ajay wiped his face, stood up. He had to pull Lalita out. The identical twin brother had to do his duty, now that the husband was no longer there.

 

The identical twin brother.  The identical twin brother.  The identical twin brother.  

The rain had started up again and Ajay stood in the torrential downpour. His heart was beating hard. Hammering against his ribs.

The thought came to him.

 

The identical twin brother, he thought.

Two faces stared back at him. A live face reflected in his mobile and an identical face, dead, lifeless.

Like a flash, the thought took root. He thought he could hear the faint noise of sirens. Now or never. He looked at Lalita, whose breathing was jagged and unsteady. A few moments ago, before the sedan took a flying leap, it had been never.

Never changed to now.

The moles were identical. The scars on the cheeks were identical.

Sameer was dead. Or was he? Was Ajay dead? Effectively so? Or metaphorically so?

Lalita murmurred and Ajay’s mind was made up.

If Sameer died, Lalita would be a grieving widow. And there would be boundaries. Societal norms. Lalita would never countenance finding solace in Ajay’s arms.

Unless.

If Ajay died today, Sameer would live. He would start afresh, a changed man. Accidents changed people. Gave them a whole new perspective about themselves. Why not Sameer?

And Lalita would be with him. Forever. As Sameer, but…. why not? Maybe he would tell her, later. Maybe he wouldn’t. It would all depend on how this turned out. But right now, this was as good as it could get.

What an idea! Ajay thought. Mad. Terrifying. Completely Irreversible, once put into motion. And yet, all consuming, all encompassing.

Ajay leaned into the driver's side and unbuckled Sameer’s seatbelt. His eyes had changed now. Ruthless, uncompromising, cold blooded. Filled with conviction, with a mad, lunatic desire for his Lalita, he wanted her, needed her, craved for her. And now, he would have her. Like a manic person, like a beast possessed, he redoubled his efforts, dragging Sameer’s body out of the wreckage, into the dark.

Quick check.

Wallets, swapped.

Wristwatches, swapped.

Jackets, muddy and swapped.

The innerwear didn’t matter. It was all muddy and soaked and bruised. But the jackets were different.

The wedding ring off one cold finger and onto another warm one.

Ajay’s silver chain around Sameer’s neck.

And then came the hard part.

He dragged Sameer’s body, down towards the rushing swollen river, at the valley bottom. Dragging it across rocks and boulders and jagged shards of glass, while the torrential rain continued to pour. Right up to the edge. He took one final look at Sameer’s face and whispered “Goodbye, Ajay!”

And then the good old heave ho.

The body somersaulted into the fast flowing current and the river and the night-time swallowed it whole. It was done.

Ajay stood there, panting, his own injuries forgotten. He was exultant, jubilant, his heart now bursting with an indescribable joy. What he had done, took guts; not everyone could indulge in such fast thinking, followed by such razor sharp execution. Execution. He liked the word.

The river would wash Sameer far away; by the time he was found, identification would be nearly impossible. Dental records could be checked, of course, but it was not a crime that had been committed, just an unfortunate, horrifying, sickening accident. “Sameer” would demand an immediate cremation, of course.  

Ajay crawled back up the muddy slope, gasping for breath, soaked to the bone, but exultant. Towards his Lalita. His one true love. Now within his reach. Now and forever.

He climbed unsteadily, into the driver’s seat of the wrecked car and pulled the airbag close. This had to be done, meticulously. The sirens were sounding louder now, he had to be fast, but he had to be careful as well. One slip and all would be lost. His Lalita would be lost. To him.

He pressed his aching forehead against the shattered steering wheel and closed his eyes.

He waited, letting the shock and exhaustion take over his trembling frame. He sat there and waited. His wounds continued to bleed, not too much now, but he dared not suture them.

He waited.

An hour later, the flashing lights of emergency vehicles arrived.

The first responders cut open the crushed metal and pulled an unconscious Lalita and a seemingly groggy Ajay out.

"Sir, can you hear me?" a paramedic desperately shouted, over the storm.

The time had come.

"My... my wife," Ajay groaned, putting on Sameer’s sharp, authoritative tone.

"She’s alive, sir. Was there anyone else, Sir?"

"Ajay..." Ajay choked out, forcing tears into his eyes. "Ajay, my-my brother. He is in the b-back, please pull him out."

He managed a choking, breaking voice. I deserve an Academy Award for this, he thought to himself.

“There’s no one in the back, Sir.” The responder said. “But it looks as if someone was… well Sir… it looks as if someone was… was thrown out, Sir…”

“No!” Ajay screamed. “No! Look for him! Search for….” He made as if to stand, but he staggered and stumbled and fell into the responders’ arms.

“P-Please!” he said. “My brother…”

The paramedics glanced at each other.

Some time later, after Ajay was dressed, a couple of them came up to him.

"It appears, Sir, that your brother was thrown out from the vehicle, into the river, Sir. Search teams are looking."

Ajay closed his eyes, pretending to faint from the trauma and pain. Tears trickled down his cheeks. How weird it would be, he thought to himself, if they realized that these are tears of joy.

And then a bunch of paramedics arrived there, with a stretcher. He was rushed to the hospital, all the time, his mind was spinning, with the sheer gravitas of his brave act.

The next morning, the police arrived at the hospital. He had stabilized and so had Lalita, he was told. Then the cop confirmed to him, in slow, shuddering words, that a body had been washed downstream.

It was battered beyond recognition, the officer claimed, but the silver chain on it, had the words "Ajay."

He collapsed back on the seat. He affected a stoic demeanour now; he didn’t want anyone to see through his act, he couldn’t overdo it. The deception had to be natural. And shock could lead people into silence, so his lapse, into a depressed silence was all too understandable.

A couple of days later, Lalita also woke up in her hospital room, with a severe concussion. At first, she was confused and then she realized where she was and the events that had unfolded, came back to her. She let out a wail and the doctors came running. And with them, came Ajay.

When Ajay entered the room, he was wearing Sameer’s clothes and ring. He had parted his hair, like Sameer did.

But Lalita’s face went pale.

"Sameer?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

This was the litmus test. This was where he had to deliver his finest act. Otherwise all was lost.

"I’m here, Lalita," Ajay said softly, stepping closer to her bed.

Lalita narrowed her eyes for a minute. But then Ajay smiled, using the same lopsided grin which Sameer used to do. It irritated Ajay to no end, because Sameer used it to charm people, but now, it would be a weapon for Ajay.

"Where is... where is Ajay?" Lalita asked, her eyes searching his, frantically.

Ajay forced his face into an expression of profound, dark grief. A wasteland of pain.

"Ajay d-didn't make it," he said, lowering his head. "The river took him." His voice broke as he said that, in his mind, he forced himself to think that it could have been him in the river, if God had willed it so. That thought helped him keep his face somber, as he thought about that possibility and realized that he had been lucky, incredibly lucky.

Lalita stared at him in shock, her eyes widening, in sheer, unadulterated horror. “No!” she whispered silently, but that silent whisper engulfed the pain of a hundred screams. 

A silent tear slipped down her cheek, followed by a violent, shaking breath. Ajay was studying her closely and in some way, he was gratified by her reaction.

But then she turned her face to the wall, and refused to speak another word that day. The doctor told Ajay that it was the shock of the accident; it had broken her spirit.

In the weeks that followed, Ajay settled into his stolen life as Sameer. It wasn’t too difficult, he realized, since the accident could change people, so even if he wasn’t behaving fully like Sameer, he wasn’t behaving like Ajay either. He was behaving like someone who had been crushed due to the enormity of the accident and the death of his brother.

A certain leeway could be granted.

He took over Sameer’s office, Sameer’s business. He realized that Sameer had been harsh with his employees, whereas Ajay had been kind; he had to be a mix now, to show that he was more of a toned-down Sameer.

"You’ve changed since the accident, Sameer," his friend remarked, one afternoon.

"Dying almost changes a man," Ajay replied smoothly. "I just want to be better. I didn’t have a near death experience, but I came back from the brink!"

The one thing that changed, was the way Ajay treated Lalita at home.

No longer the raised voice, the dripping sarcasm and scorn, the insults and sheer contempt.

These were replaced by flowers and thoughtful gifts and favorite books and, most of all, privacy and space.

Warm meals on rainy evenings, small notes on the dressing table. While she continued to come out of her misery, his compassion, something she had never experienced, was there for all to see.

And yet, Lalita still remained distant, cold, aloof and entirely withdrawn from him. She spoke to him, but it was more of a formal conversation between colleagues and not like a husband-wife dialogue.  

She barely touched her food, the one he so carefully prepared and spent hours and hours, staring out the window, at the rain and the sunshine. It mattered not to her.

And whenever Ajay tried to touch her hand, she flinched as if burned by fire. She shrunk from him, visibly afraid. Ajay sometimes had doubts; had the mask slipped; had he, somehow, revealed himself? But Lalita never seemed to suspect anything; she always referred to him, as Sameer.

Ajay told himself she just needed time to heal, from the trauma of the crash and from “Ajay”’s death. That eventually, she would see how much "Sameer" had changed. And the bitterness between them would blossom into love. Why not? It wasn’t as if a lifetime had passed between them, they were still young and there was still time.

She would fall in love, with this new, gentle version of her husband. And he would probably never disabuse her of her notion that he was “Sameer”. He would always be her “Sameer”.

Six months passed.

The anniversary of the crash approached.

And Ajay decided that it was high time, to bridge the gap that remained between them.

He came home early that day, bringing a box of delicate porcelain tea cups she had long admired.

"Lalita, I made reservations for us tonight," Ajay said softly, entering the kitchen.

Lalita was standing by the stove, stirring a small pot of herbal tea. She was smiling to herself.

Ajay noticed she didn't turn around immediately, her shoulders seemed to tense beneath her shawl.

"I don't want to go out tonight, Sameer," she said, her voice flat, toneless.

"That’s fine, darling!" Ajay said gently, walking up behind her. "You know, we can stay in. I’ll cancel the reservations."

"I made tea for us," she said, finally turning to face him with a hollow smile. The smile didn’t reach her eyes. However, it was the first time she had actually smiled at him, in six agonizing months. Finally. He would take her cold, frozen smile for now, better than the expressionless mask that she had been donning, for the past few months. His heart leaped with hope; patience finally paying off, he thought.

"That sounds wonderful," Ajay said, sitting down at the wooden dining table. He was determined to meet her, more than half way, he had to make things right. “Sameer” had to make things right.

“Its herbal tea.” She said, woodenly. “I’ve made it without sugar. You can add if you want.”

She set two porcelain cups on the table, steam rising lazily from them. Then she sat across from him, holding her own cup with both hands.

"You really are a completely different man now, aren't you?" she asked softly, staring into his eyes. Ajay started to feel a bit uneasy, but she was smiling. Her eyes were vacant, empty, lifeless. The caress was in her voice, but it was an attempted, feigned one.

"The crash made me realize what truly matters, Lalita," Ajay said earnestly. He stared back into her eyes and his was not an act; his love was real, after all.

"It made me realize how horribly I treated you, and how much I want to fix it."

"You want to fix us?" she whispered, staring deeply into his eyes. “Really fix us?”

"Yes. I do, Lalita.” He replied, inwardly delighted. This was the conversation he wanted, the turning point in their relationship, the one that would give him what his heart truly desired. “I want to give you the love you’ve always deserved, Lalita. The love you never got. Because of me." He added. He was determined to let her know that he acknowledged her pain and suffering and in a way, it was Ajay twisting the knife deep into Sameer.

Ajay picked up his cup and took a deep, long drink of the bitter tea. It was calm, refreshing, soothing. He felt an instant relief, a kick to his senses, such as it was.

Lalita watched him closely, her expression unreadable, almost stone-like.

"Do you remember the night of the accident?" she asked suddenly.

Ajay froze. The conversation was going in a certain direction and now it had veered off, suddenly. He didn’t know where she was going with this; he would need to be careful.

"I try not to," Ajay lied smoothly. "It was a nightmare for all of us."

"It was a nightmare," she agreed.

And then her voice changed. It became cold. Brutal. Like a knife. And something entered her eyes, something relentless.

"Because the wrong brother survived."

Ajay froze, the teacup hovering an inch above the saucer in his hand. His heart lurched, thudded in his chest.

"What - what do you mean?" he croaked, trying to laugh off the strange comment. There was ice in his veins now.

She laughed. A strange, queer laugh, malevolent.

"You always were a cruel, heartless monster, Sameer" Lalita said, her voice terrifyingly calm.

"You made my life a living hell every single day for five miserable years."

"I-I know, Lalita... I was terrible, but I’ve changed—"

“The electric shocks? The sadistic beatings! You expect me to forget all of that!”

Ajay froze again. Shocks and beatings? Had Sameer been that evil a monster?

"No, Sameer. You didn't change. You cannot change. You just survived," she interrupted cold-bloodedly.

"And Ajay... sweet, dear gentle Ajay... my best friend…. The one who truly loved me and cared for me… the one I fell in love with… he died, Sameer. Ajay died. Only because of you."

Ajay’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened in absolute shock. This was beyond his wildest dreams, true, but this was… it was different. The setting, the time, the place. It was all wrong.

He would need to set it right now. He would need to tell her what he’d done. He would need to become Ajay again.

But somehow, he was not able to speak. His breathing was becoming laboured, coming in short gasps.

"What did you say?" Ajay repeated stupidly, his head suddenly feeling heavy. But the words were coming out in a croak.

"I loved him, Sameer. I loved Ajay," she confessed, a tear slipping down her pale, cold cheek.

“And you, with your stupid car stunt, you took him away from me. You took away the only chance for happiness, that I could have, Sameer. As usual, your cruel, vile nature won the day….”

“No.” Ajay tried to eke out the words, “Lalita, please… listen…”

"...and left me trapped forever with the monster I despised."

Ajay felt a sudden, sharp pang of heat tearing through his stomach. His intestines were on fire, there was a searing pain on the inside of his joints.

His vision blurred, the edges of the room turning dark and distorted. He was spinning beyond reason now, his thoughts no longer coherent.

He tried to stand up, but his legs collapsed. Like lead. He crashed to the dining room floor, knocking his teacup off the table. The porcelain shattered into pieces, spilling the dark liquid across the rug.

"Lalita..." Ajay gasped, clutching his burning throat in agony. “Lalita… please…”

Lalita didn't move from her chair; she simply looked down at him. Her face was twisted into a mask of pure, utter hatred.

"You did this, Sameer! You killed Ajay. You killed my chance of happiness. Now… you… die…”

"The tea..." Ajay wheezed, blood trickling from the corner of his lips.

"A tasteless, deadly poison," she said, her voice utterly devoid of emotion. “Don’t worry…” she said. “I’ll be drinking my share too. I want to join Ajay…”

Ajay clawed at the carpet, trying desperately to pull himself toward her. His eyes pleading, begging her to stop the monstrosity she had put in motion. He wanted to scream the truth. Tell her who he was. He was Ajay. Her Ajay. The right brother.

Not the wrong one.

“Die, Sameer!” she screamed. “Die!”

He wanted to tell her that Sameer was dead, that Sameer was drowned in the dark river. He was Ajay, her Ajay. He opened his mouth. Maybe he could force the word "Ajay" past his lips.

But the poison had already paralyzed his vocal cords, choking out his voice. Only a dry, agonizing rattle came out of his throat as he suffocated.

Lalita knelt beside him, looking into his terrified, pleading eyes. She held her glass, next to him.

“Now I will drink this” she whispered, softly. “And I will join Ajay. While YOU WILL ROT!!!”

Ajay stared into the eyes of the one woman he had sacrificed everything for. The woman who loved him. And who was now killing him.

Ajay tried one last time to form her name, but darkness closed in rapidly.

His vision faded, slowly turning black, his hand fell limp upon the cold floor.

His last sight was Lalita bringing the fatal cup to her lips, consuming her deadly dose, while chanting his name….