3: Demons

"Maa! Papa!"

Shocked due to the horrifying scene in front of them, Arnav and Anjali shivered at the door of their father's study. Never even in their wildest dream had they imagined their delicate, petite mother with such a deadly weapon like a revolver. Never in their wildest dream had they imagined seeing their father lay dead on the plush Kashmiri carpet, the one they had bought during a happy family trip to Kashmir 2 years ago.

"Maa?"

Garnering some courage Arnav went near his mother, Ratna. She was sitting on the floor, her Saree shining in the happiness of attending her daughter's marriage, her jewellery dangling in the joy of the auspicious day yet her face tear stricken. Her kajal had swept down her cheek along with her tears. She didn't turn towards Arnav or answer his beckon. She just stared towards her husband's dead body until realisation struck her hard in her heart and she let out a huge wail.

"Yeh humne kya kar diya!( What have I done!)" She exclaimed holding her forehead. "Unki galti ki sazaa unhe deni thi humne khud ko hi de di! Hey Ram!( Instead of giving him punishment for his mistakes, I have punished myself! Oh God!)"

"What did you do Maa?" Anjali asked trembling seeing her parents state.

"Your father had an affair behind my back when you were 4 years old, Anjali. After Arnav was born he had promised me that he would never even look at that woman again .But.....But...he rekindled his affair with her since the past some time, two timing me! Despite all the love and respect I gave him!

Ratna cried covering her face.

"One of those women is your fiance's aunt, Ms.Maya. She came and told me about his two timing nature. I did not believe her at first, he had vowed on Arnav's life that he shall never cheat on me again ...but ...but he has been cheating on me all my life! All his diaries in his study are proofs of all the fun he has had while I waited for him all day and all night long, managing this household.

Maya ji had come to know that he is married so she had left him. Today, she realized that I am that unfortunate wife of an unfaithful man and that her nephew is getting married to the daughter of such a cold hearted cheater. She has asked the family to break the alliance. She said that she shall not allow her nephew to get married to the blood of a characterless man.

Why should my daughter suffer due to what he did!?" Ratna banged her fist on the floor breaking all her glass bangles.

"So you killed Papa?" Anjali shivered.

"Yes, I did...I...I..." Ratna continued crying while Arnav and Anjali looked at each other in shock.

They both had gone blank, both realized the same thought that their parents were criminals now...but who was the bigger criminal? Whose side should they take? Their father had wronged their mother, no doubt! But killing him directly? Was that necessary?

Arnav saw his mother's state and the only thing that struck his mind was that he needed to take care of her.

" I will get you some water, Ma. Please don't cry." Arnav spoke with utmost maturity and proceeded towards the hall while Anjali yet stood frozen after her mother's confession.

While Arnav had been a complete Mumma's boy all his life, Anjali loved the attention of both her parents equally. Her bubble of having the most perfect family had been brutally burst on the day she thought was going to be the most fortunate day of her life.

The loud sound of another gun shot stirred her out of her trance, making her eyes meet a more horrifying scene than what she had seen before- both her parents lay dead on the carpet.

Ratna Malik had committed suicide using the same gun revolver with which she killed her husband, the father of her children.

"Maa!" Anjali held her in her arms and cried. "What have you done...Why?"

"I don't break promises, Anjali. I had promised to be with him in life and death." Saying this Ratna closed her eyes forever.

"Chhotte! Chhotte! Call the Ambulance!" Anjali shouted but Arnav stood rooted at the entrance of the room. The glass of water fell from his hands and broke into millions of pieces, on the floor, just like his little heart had.

His beloved Maa was lying dead on her favourite carpet besides the man she deemed as her favourite, in front of the son whom she said was her favourite child. He went ahead and slumped in front of his mother's dead body, clutching on to her hand for dear life. Anjali let out a huge cry looking at her young brother and leaned on his shoulders.

Arnav felt his shoulders go heavy. The weight of the responsibility of himself and his elder sister was not a feather light one.

He silently caught hold of the revolver in his mother's small hands, wiped it with his blood stained Kurta and then threw it near his father's dead body. Anjali was too traumatised to notice any of this.

"Anjali? Arnav ? Where are you both?" Nani said in a sweet voice as she entered the study looking for the now broken family. Arnav's maternal side of family had just arrived.

"Haye Bhagwaan! Yeh Kya! Bitiya! Ratna, my child! Damaad Ji!" Nani looked shocked looking at the scene in front of her. Hearing her loud screams the whole household came up to the Alankrit's study. The people downstairs had mistaken the gunshot to be a loud noise caused due to the falling of some heavy material in midst of this hullabaloo for the marriage. And so they had ignored it thinking who would get a god damned gun in an atmosphere of such pomp and ceremony.

*********

The whole house including its workers mourned the broken betrothal of their beloved Anjali and the death of the kind owners of the mansion. Anjali cried and cried, even though her throat had gone dry and parched long ago. She was yet in her bridal attire but her happiness had worn off long ago like her makeup.

Arnav stood in a corner, his eyes focussed towards nowhere. He had just returned after lighting his parents' funeral pyres. This was the worst day on earth for him, so much that he did not want to live this day any further, he did not want to live his life any further.

Suddenly the question he feared arose from none other than his nosy paternal grandmother's wretched mouth.

"How did this happen? How did my son die?" She placed her question in a strict voice in front of a tear stricken Anjali.

"Wo ...Wo ... Mumma..." Anjali tried to reply when Arnav cut her stammer mid-sentence.

"Your son killed my mother! He died as a punishment for that!" Arnav spitefully said to his grandmother.

Anjali heard his words in shock. Why is he lying?

"Chhotte..." She tried to interrupt in her weak voice.

"He got a punishment for his deeds, di! He died guilty of his crimes! "Arnav shouted.

"No, you are lying! My son has Khaandani blood running in his veins! My child can never do anything like that." The old woman retorted back at Arnav.

" That very 'Khaandaani' child of yours has been two timing his wife throughout his wretched life. Is that what Khaandaani means?

Your child is a – sorry, was a criminal! A cheater, a two timer, a ruthless murderer! An infidel!" Arnav accusingly pointed his finger at his dead father's photo.

"I hate him ...I hate him so much! Why am I his son?" Arnav broke down and slumped on the floor.

" Chhotey! He is our father!" Anjali tried to stop him from speaking anymore ill words.

"Di! The woman he wronged is our mother!" Arnav screamed at her.

"Accha! If you have so much hatred for your father, then why are you here? Why are you Arnav Malik? What are you without him?" His Dadi spitefully asked him.

That struck Arnav like lightning.

"Dadi what are you saying? Arnav is your grandson!" Anjali looked at her in shock.

"Samdhan ji, I beg you. Please don't say such bitter things on such a sad day. Everyone is traumatised here, one must not say such things." Arnav's Nani joined both her hands in front of his Dadi .

"No, Nani. Dadi...I mean Sumitra devi is saying the correct thing. I hate Alankrit Malik and I will despise every single thing related to him in my life." Arnav stood up and stared his grandmother right in her eyes.

"Arnav! You mean to say you will hate yourself too? Your sister too? Your mother too?"His Dadi continued her talk.

"No,I can never hate my sister or my mother. My mother might have been his wife  but she was the daughter of the Raizada household first. She is Ratna Raizada first and then anything else.I am her son. I am Arnav Singh Raizada. Not Arnav Malik."

The whole household trembled at Arnav's statement. People started talking amongst each other. Which son leaves his father's name for his mother's? That is not a part of their culture. The heir of the great Malik household was defying their culture.

Arnav's Dadi kept staring at him like if virtually throwing daggers but unlike any average 18 year old, Arnav stood fearlessly in front of her. He gave her one last angry stare and took meaningful strides towards the mansion's gate.

Dadi now turned towards Anjali who looked more traumatised than ever now. Her Nani was holding her lest she fell to the floor.

"What are you waiting for now? Because of you, the heir of our household has left the house. You should go and bring him back."Dadi held Anjali and said.

"Yes Dadi."Anjali said slowly and limped towards her younger brother.

"Chhotte! Wait!" She shouted as she reached a little far from the hall.

"Di?"Arnav turned.

" Aapne jhooth kyun kaha?(Why did you lie?)" Anjali questioned him tearfully as Arnav made her sit near the steps outside their mansion.

"What did I lie Di?"

"That Dad killed Ma...You know that this is not the truth. Why did you lie there in the hall?" She sobbed.

"He killed Ma, not literally yet he did. She was not her usual self when we last saw her, was she? His betrayal killed her soul, Di. I am not going to count that physical death she brought upon herself. "Arnav cried holding Anjali in his arms.

"Chhotte?"

Anjali and Arnav turned towards the voice. Their Nani was standing there tearfully looking at them both.

"Aaap dono humare saath chaliye Delhi. (Both of you must come with me to Delhi.)" She said.

"But Nani ..." Arnav interrupted her.

"I am not taking any argument of yours into consideration." She sobbed and held Anjali's hand. "I have already lost my daughter; I cannot lose both of you too." She hugged both of them.

"Nani!" Anjali cried and held her grandmother tightly.

******
Back stories, Back stories, Back stories. I just love writing Back stories. How that chaŕacter became what they are today, what changed their personality, their thought process, their ideologie...This is what I prefer instead of a character sketch.

Next chapter after all the updates reach at least 500 views each.