Free The Secret wish List by Preeti Shenoy Page B

and greet the gathering, even though his dead body is right before us. On the face of it, Vibha is making an attempt to appear calm. But, I know, she is completely broken inside.
    Once the body is taken and everyone has left, the loneliness becomes oppressive. It is hard to even sit in the drawing room as just hours ago, the body was there as were all the people. The furniture had been moved around and I now help Vibha move it back. Once it is back in place there is not even a hint of the tragedy that has occurred there. Everything seems so normal.
    Except it isn’t.
    We sit in silence and I hold her hand. Monu has been told that her father has gone away to sleep and will not be coming back. What can a child of three comprehend about death, really? She answers that she too wants to go go to sleep like Papa. Vibha breaks down once more and hugs her.
    I take her inside, try to make her eat some dinner (which has been got from a neighbour’s home, adhering to the Hindu tradition of not lighting a fire in the home which has housed a dead body, which means one cannot cook) and read her a story and put her to bed.
    My return tickets are booked for the next day, but Vibha begs me not to go.
    ‘Please, Diksha, I need you,’ she pleads. The sorrow in her eyes and the plea in her voice gnaw at my heart.
    I call up my mother-in-law and tell her what the situation is. My mother-in-law asks me to stay as long as is necessary. I am worried about what Sandeep will say.
    ‘It is okay, Diksha. I will explain to him,’ she assures me. I feel like hugging her.
    How did a person who is so sensitive raise someone like Sandeep who seems to have no consideration for my feelings? Then again, perhaps it is partly my fault as I have always played ‘the willing doormat’ role in this relationship, right from the start.
    Sandeep calls me up shortly.
    ‘Mother spoke to me. How long do you intend to stay at Vibha’s? What in the world can you accomplish by being there?’ he asks, coming directly to the point in his characteristic blunt style.
    ‘Hey listen, Vibha is totally devastated. Her husband’s died, for God’s sake. I will return soon as I can. Your mother did say it was okay.’
    What I really want to tell him is that my sister needs me. That there is something called ‘family support’, something perhaps he will never understand as he does not have siblings.
    I am, however, unable to explain to him why I need to stay back. Sometimes, when the outlook and wave-length of the other person is completely different, it is best to keep quiet. After all, he hasn’t really objected to my staying with Vibha and neither has he demanded that I get back. He has merely asked me a question, the answer to which is obvious and comes instantly to me. How can I not stay back when Vibha needs me and has asked me to?
    I spend five days with Vibha. We go over all of Mohan’s financials arrangements and sort out everything. For the first time in my life, I feel I am doing something useful, other than being a mother and a wife. I sort out all the papers, the loans pending in his name, the mutual funds invested in, the shares he holds, the PF, the insurance policies. I even help her get the death certificate. In college, accountancy was always my favourite subject. But it is the first time in my life I am using it practically. Finally, I manage to neatly organise almost everything and tie up the loose ends.
    Every night, after her in-laws and Monu have gone to sleep, Vibha and I sit and talk. Our need to communicate seems to be endless and even though we have been talking for four nights now, we still have so much to say to each other. We talk about the uncertainty of life, reminisce about old times, the future and everything else in between.
    Tonight, Vibha is very grateful for all my help and for my presence there. ‘You are good at this, Diksha. You should be working in the financial sector, you know,’ she says.
    I smile at the compliment she gives