Two Beans in a Pod
Bright lights flashed everywhere accompanied with a weird droning sound that rose and fell. I was completely delirious and wet. I had no idea where I was and what I was doing. All that I knew was that I was lying down in what looked like the inside of a room. Was it my imagination or was the room swaying from left to right? Everytime I tried to move, I was overcome by a sharp pain that hit my right side.
Subbu opened the front door into a room littered with beer cans and covered in dense smoke. He coughed and walked to the windows, opening them and letting some light in. The smoke gradually cleared to reveal a huddled form lying in the middle of the room.
“Hey, Karthik! Get up! Are you ok?” Subbu asked, running to him.
Karthik roused himself and threw off the blanket that covered him. A strong whiff of smoke and beer emanated from within the blanket that looked like it had been never been washed.
“Ah! You finally responded to my call. Where were you all these days?” Karthik asked groggily.
“Sorry man. I was held up at work. How are you doing?”
“Not good. Not good at all. What’s the time, now?”
“Err… It is 7:00 in the evening,” Subbu said, looking at the wall clock that was covered in cobwebs.
He then walked up to a rusted stove that lay in one corner of the living room, which doubled as a kitchen and lit it. As he bustled around searching for coffee powder, he noticed Meenakshi’s framed photo on the floor. She was Karthik’s wife.
Karthik had lost his wife a couple of months ago in a car accident. The police suspected foul play but they were, quite predictably, unable to prove anything. She had been a journalist and a dedicated one at that. Her professional peak was when she busted a reputed hospital in an illegal kidney racket that had been plaguing the city for years. Even Subbu was caught in the melee that followed as he was a doctor in the culprit hospital. Thankfully, the main perpetrator was identified as the Chief of Medicine, much before the hospital suffered from any major damage to its image. He was quickly acquitted and the hospital issued a public notice of apology offering ample compensation to all the afflicted families. Soon enough, life returned to normal at the hospital, but not for Subbu or Karthik.
While Karthik went into manic depression, Subbu struggled to maintain his flow of patients. It was their 20-year long friendship that helped them make it out of it all. Well, not all but mostly.
“This coffee powder seems pretty old. When did you use it last?”
“I have no idea. The cups are on the counter,” Karthik said as he got up unsteadily and walked to the sink and splashed water all over his face.
I was pushed feet-first somewhere outside the room. I could barely make out the letters: MER CY, shining some 8 ft above me. Lights started moving once again. Suddenly, they stopped and I was thrown up in the air. I landed on something soft. My clothes were being ripped and my belongings pulled out. I thought I was getting mugged. There were screams all around punctured by the shatter of machinery being pulled. Somebody said, “Paddles!” My eyes closed over in pain.
The kettle boiled over as Subbu almost scalded his hands. He asked, “What have you been doing since the last time I saw you?”
“Pretty much nothing. I quit my job and stayed at home. I was restless and troubled. I wanted to search out the son of a gun that killed my wife and dispatch him to hell,” he thumped the sink in anguish and disappointment.
As Subbu poured the coffee, he fished out a small sachet, unobtrusively, from the depths of his jeans and emptied the contents into one of the cups. Karthik continued talking.
“There were no clues whatsoever. The police had nothing to go on with except a broken Rolex watch that was found in the car crash remains. I suspected that Meenu was having an affair.”
Karthik got up and walked to where the framed photo of his dead wife adorned his kitchen. He picked it up and looked it at, expressionless.
“Your wife? Don’t think so. She is too conservative and you guys adored each other too much. Didn’t you?” Subbu asked. He picked up the cups and walked to the window where he sat down on one of the two couches.
“Yes, we did. We sure did. So, how’s work?”
Subbu sipped the coffee and looked into the distance at the Chennai skyline. It was raining. Karthik came and sat next to him, holding his wife’s photo.
“It is not good. My sessions at the hospital are back to normal, but patients are dwindling at the clinic. Don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”
Karthik leant over and patted him on his back. “Don’t worry. We are the best of friends! We can come out of it together!” He picked the poisoned coffee and held it to his lips.
There they sat, the two friends – close in happiness, closer in trouble. The clock struck 8:00 as one of them keeled over, clutching his throat.
As my vision cleared, I saw my best friend standing over me. His disgusted face left little for imagination. There were white-robed men and women all around me, checking my vitals and yelling instructions. I saw the tips of my feet. They were a jaded blue and wet.
“I couldn’t do it”, my best friend said. “I simply couldn’t do it. I don’t want to be you.”
Saying so, he walked out of the room.
As Subbu clutched his throat and fell over, Karthik got up and threw the contents of his untouched coffee outside the window.
“You sick rogue! You think you can get away with killing my wife? You think I am a moron? I know it was you who sabotaged my wife’s car. I gave you the keys some days back. It is not tough to make duplicates. We were the best of friends! You betrayed all that I believed and trusted in! How could you? Was your money bigger than our friendship? You even made me suspect my own, sweet Meenu!”
Karthik fell sobbing on the floor. His tears fell on broken glass; glass from the shattered photo of Meenu. He rubbed away his tears and looked at her face. She was very beautiful. He shook his head and walked to the telephone.
“Hospital? There is an emergency in 24, West Mada Street, T Nagar. My friend… no… a man has been poisoned.”
-Arul Sirpy
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