Fiction India Short Story Top

In The Lap of Chail – 9

Few days after Kaisha arrived in Delhi she had to leave for Dehradun from Delhi for a film making seminar. Before she left she spoke to Beeji, “It might take a few more days Beeji. This seminar is very imperative to my career else I would never go. Don’t go to Kandaghat alone. I want to see it and understand why you call it the abode of gods.” “I will wait for you”, Beeji confirmed.

When Kaisha came back she found a note from her mother stuck on the door. It said, “Kaisha rush to Chail immediately.” Kaisha swallowed the tinge of saliva down her throat and called her mother, “Is Beeji fine Mumma. Can I talk to her?” “She can’t talk at the moment Kashu.

You come down as soon as you can” retorted her mother. Kaisha reached Chail as dusk was about to fall. She felt an eerie stillness outside the kothi. The rhododendrons and china roses had worn out their glory. Bindiya came running to Kaisha and handed her Beeji’s diary. “Beeji asked me to give it to you”, she said.

Kaisha held the diary close to her heart and walked towards the house. She saw her mother bawling slowly. Kaisha’s heartbeat sank as she saw her Beeji’s portrait adorned with flowers. Beeji had passed away the previous night soundly in her sleep.

Later that night Kaisha sat on the porch, still holding the rusty diary clutched close to her heart. She flipped through the pages and opened the last page that was bookmarked. Her Beeji had written, “Kashu beta, I am afraid that I have to go to Kandaghat without you.

There are some places where you have to travel alone. Well, I call it the abode of Gods because the last time I suffered a heart attack and I had gone into a mild coma I had seen myself running towards Kandaghat from Chail and I saw myself intermingling into the panoramic view.

I have asked Bindiya to give you the diary as I promised. So do you really think this can be made into a documentary?” Kaisha wiped her cheeks and gazed into the dark till she could see Beeji’s silhouette fade into oblivion.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *