“I am back…”, Lal’s voice rang across the hallway to the kitchen where his wife Meenakshi (or Meenu as he lovingly called her) was busy with preparing breakfast. Despite the hot sticky air of the kitchen, Meenakshi was in a good mood. Late last night their only son Biju, daughter-in-law Aarti and her six-year-old grand-daughter daughter Ammu had arrived from Bangalore, and they would be mostly here till Ammu’s school reopened after the half-term break. The timing was perfect as today was also Lal’s 60th birthday and there was a celebration planned for the evening. Also, she had been missing little Ammu and she pined for a lot for her granddaughter. It secretly thrilled her to hear others comment on how much Ammu resembled her grandmother in her childhood days. She was preparing Ammu’s favourite dumplings stuffed with a mixture of sweet & moist jaggery and coconut puree when she recognized her husband’s familiar gait across the garden after his customary morning walk. She had already poured hot coffee into his favourite steel tumbler even before Lal had announced his return.

Lal knew that Meenu would be on cloud nine today and he was secretly plotting to get her to agree for a few rounds of drinks later today. The doctor had warned him about excesses, but he had been sobering for quite a while and it seemed to him that he had earned this. The last couple of days had been a little stressful. He had received news of one of his acquaintances from college-days committing suicide and though not real friends it had the affected of releasing some dark memories which he thought he had successfully locked up and pushed back into the dark recesses of his brain where he hoped they would eventually disappear. Also, though he seldom mentioned it to his wife, he too missed his granddaughter a lot. What a chatterbox she had turned out to be and how he loved the little cherub. Though they were quite late in arriving last night, Ammu had been wide awake and while kissing him good night had thrown her chubby arms around his neck and secretly whispered about a surprise birthday gift, she had brought for him. She always managed to bring out a smile from his otherwise stern face.

These were the primary thoughts that buzzed around Lal’s head as he walked towards his favourite garden chair and glanced towards the corridor where he half expected Meenu to be appearing any moment now with his coffee. He noticed the grass had grown higher than his ankle and made a mental note to call the lawn mowers as he did not want Ammu running around in this foliage where there might be unwanted visitors of the slithery kind. He was never too fond of snakes (he was sure no one was) and he tried to keep his distance from them if he could help it. Though he knew many who were afraid of snakes, for him it was more a kind of repulsion rather than fear. His friends who knew him well would vouch that he was a brave man, but still his fear of snakes was something that they used to poke fun of, but life had been generally kind, and he did not mind the occasional jibe or two. It was then that he noticed a colourful box on his favourite spot wrapped in a way that only a six-year-old could do. He chuckled at his grand-daughter’s ingenuity by which she had figured out his routine. He carefully removed the wrapping and could already see it was some sort of toy in a cylindrical container. He removed the cap and turned over the tube in anticipation to accept what he thought would be some colourful memento into his open upturned palm. Lal shuddered violently as he watched in horror a snake slowly uncoil from the colourful cylinder onto his frozen palm.

An involuntary scream escaped Meenu's lips, and she dropped the coffee as soon she saw Lal lying prostrate on the ground. He was jerking convulsively and foaming from his mouth. She shouted for her son Biju who was by now wide awake due to all the commotion. As Biju came running down, he instinctively knew something was not well with his father and what he saw on the garden floor confirmed his fear. He quickly shouted for Aarti to bring the car keys as he struggled to lift his father. As he was hoisting Lal, he almost dropped him again as he suddenly noticed the serpentine form which his father’s prostrate form had hidden from view. And then as suddenly as he was shocked, he felt relieved as he noticed the inert state of the reptile and immediately recognized the form as that of the wooden life like snake toy that Ammu had demanded buying from the shopping mall last week. The trip to the hospital thankfully did not take much time. After a few hours of treatment and a battery of tests the doctor confided to him that his father had suffered an epileptic seizure. Though Lal had now recovered from the collapse, the doctor suspected a psychological explanation behind the seizure as Lal and no one else in both sides of the family had any prior history of such a thing. And so unexpectedly Lal’s 60th birthday was spent in hospital and Meenu had a hard time controlling her temper against his ill-mannered friends who kept making all kinds of jokes about him being scared to death by a gift from his beloved granddaughter. After a couple of day at the hospital they returned home with a box of medications and Lal seemed none the worse for all the wear and tear.

A couple of weeks thus passed after which Ammu had gone back to Bangalore with her parents. Lal had insisted that she never knew the reason behind his sudden illness and others had played along. A month later Lal had resumed his routine morning walks, but Meenu felt something had changed about the man she loved and knew so well. Though he was never talkative (unless he had a drink or two and which is how she always knew if he had been drinking), he now seemed to be more closed up than usual. Something was gnawing away in that mind of his and she did not want a rehash of the recent hospital scare. Meenu decided that she needed to know what was worrying him and waited for him to return from his walk. It had been a cloudy start to the morning which Lal hated and as soon as he saw Meenu seated on his garden chair, he immediately knew what she had in mind. He had wanted to tell her everything earlier (much earlier) but never could quite bring himself up to it. “Well…high time”, he reflected and before Meenu could utter a word he began, “there is something you should know…”.

“Remember how before the hospital incident, I had told you about an old colleague committing suicide. His name was Salim. Now Salim had been my junior in college which was notorious for the ragging of freshers. I was a real jerk back then and sort of headed the ragging committee with innovative ideas on how to torture the poor souls who were unfortunate enough to be our juniors. It was mostly fun, and we usually ended up on good terms with the juniors we ragged. You do know my best friend Santhosh – well he was my senior who had ragged me the most and this is how it usually worked. But the thing with ragging is that it is very difficult to draw a line on where fun ends and where perverseness begins. So, we seniors gleefully made plans to have some fun at the expense of our juniors some of whom were also put up on the same hostel floor.

One just had to look at Salim to know that he was different. I remember seeing a slightly build stooping male with a hint of moustache sneaking out of a face peppered with acne. Salim hardly lifted his eyes as he along with a dozen of juniors patiently waited in line for their turn to be picked on and the ordeal done with. We had plans for everyone and for Salim it was decided I would play the role of a pervert who was waiting for a hapless victim. Soon it was Salim’s turn, and I propositioned him to a corner. In the dim yellow light of the flickering 40w bulb, I still remember his pale eyes and sweat moistened temples as he fearfully looked up to what he believed to be someone going to assault him. I removed my t-shirt and jokingly asked him to touch my chest. He vehemently shook his head. I then took hold of his hands and told him I am going to show him my special place and pulled him towards my room. However much to the chagrin of all gathered to see the show, Salim did not show any resistance as I pulled him towards my room. But the coup-de-grace was yet to come. You see I had placed a wooden toy snake on my bed, very life like and somewhat like what Ammu gifted me. I pushed Salim into the bed in the dark room and flicked on the light. It was then that Salim noticed the form on the bed and out came an ear-piercing shriek. He eyes rolled up as he fell into the floor with his whole-body convulsing in a spasm. The show had just ended in an anti-climax.

That was the first time I had seen a fit. We took him to the hospital that night where the duty doctor told us what it was, and that Salim probably had a history. On his advice we called his home and the next day his mother and elder sister came to take care of him. We learned that Salim’s father had abandoned his family when he was but a baby and that a lot rode on his frail shoulders. I felt a little relieved when I found out that he was prone to epilepsy and justified myself that anything could have triggered it. It was during this week that his sister confided that Salim also had a few manageable psychological problems and was on medication. I am not sure whether Salim ever told them of the ragging, but if he did, they never mentioned it to me. Later while leaving his mother called me aside and thanked me for all the help myself and our batch had done and asked me to take care of Salim.”

Meenu sat in silence for some time trying to digest what all her husband had just confessed and what it all meant. “So did you take care of him, I mean did both of you become good friends?”, at last asked hopefully.

Lal slowly shook his head, “I am afraid not. See that was the thing. Salim was different. I apologized to him so many times over the next few weeks, but he never acknowledged it. I was not even sure he understood what I was apologizing for or whether he had any hatred for me. However, I do know that he did not have any friends, so I did not think he was singling me out. Anyway, that was the end of ragging juniors, at least for me. Look, I know it was stupid and heartless of me to do what I did in the name of making friends with juniors, and if I had another chance, I would not do it the same way. I made mistakes , bad ones, and I have learnt that all people are not the same. Some can withstand a hammer blow whereas others would crumble at the slightest breath. If only Salim were not different maybe, he would have been my best friend.

Anyway, when I came to know of his suicide last month it disturbed me. It made me reflect on how unfair the world is. Now you can guess my surprise and horror as I found a similar god forsaken toy in the unlikeliest of places – a gift from my dear granddaughter. After the fit, I realised that I had never forgiven myself. I had only pushed the memories back and locked it up. There, now you know…”, with that Lal dumped himself beside his wife and looked into her eyes now glistening with a hint of a teardrop.

Meenu hugged the man she loved so much. “Lal, do you know if Salim had a family?”, she enquired. Lal shook his head. “Well, let us find out and let us visit them. Maybe that is what karma wants of you”. Lal nodded slowly and the sun burst through the dark canopy of cloud where it had stayed hidden for long.