Lost…

Ravi stood there at the back of the group, waiting for the door to be opened from within. Dressed in a dapper black suit, he looked every bit as suave and handsome, as he was described to be. Tall, lean and muscular in physique; accomplished and successful at work he was the true definition of the “perfect man”.

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Indeed, it wasn’t for nothing that he had been ranked 8th on the list of “10 Most Eligible Bachelors” in the latest issue of Architect + Designer Digest. Not that he concurred; in his mind, he was very much taken.

He looked around casually, noting every flaw in the building’s construction. From outside, the residential block had looked well maintained – with its sufficient car parking, a small fountain in the main porch and ample playing area for the kids. His sharp mind and observant eye had even noted that the number of lifts was in correct proportion to the number of letterboxes in the basement. The number of car parking spaces was in excess, though. Obviously to account for the fact that each house these days had multiple car owners, he figured.

The people standing ahead of him were the ones he had been collaborating with, on a real estate project, for quite a while now. The group comprised of his business associates – owner of a furnishings showroom, the largest and best in the city; a renowned interior designer and his painter sister; a real estate and construction mogul and his socialite wife. These were the people who had invited him to dinner, at yet another friend’s house. He had been homesick and exhausted. Staying alone in a new city for 12 months straight; working non-stop day and night at a stretch had taken its toll. It had had its benefits too. The project they all had been slogging over had begun to take visible shape. Construction was almost over, and the process of fitments and fixtures was soon to start. They were ahead of schedule and with ample budget to spare, too. The mall would surely be ready well ahead of time; for its inauguration in mid-December. The real estate company had wanted to open the mall before Valentine’s Day. Ravi had suggested it be completed well before Christmas, to be able to cash in on the fervor of festive season and New Year. They were doing well, exactly as per plan, Ravi thought. He could now afford to breathe a bit and take things a little easy. His associates and now friends had been perceptive enough to realize he needed the break and kind enough to not leave him alone on the occasion of Diwali – when people working across the country would return home to enjoy the festival with their families. “It would be good for you to join us for Diwali,” Nayan, the pot-bellied interior designer had suggested.

Home. Family. The two words brought up images of his mother – a self-made woman who had managed to keep together the family and household after his father died. He had just been 12 then, and his younger brother 8. The youngest one, his sister, was yet to be born. At the hospital that fateful night, while standing in the doorway of his father’s hospital room, something had changed in him. He had immediately taken on the role of the responsible son and elder brother. Running errands, fetching medicines, coordinating with the nurses and doctors; even protectively shielding little Rahul’s eyes as their father breathed his last. Despite desperate attempts by the doctors and nurses, Manish Verma could not be revived. He had already suffered a cardiac arrest earlier that day; and his body was too weak from the trauma of the accident, they had explained to his mother. An 8-months pregnant Mrs. Verma had not had time to even grieve over her husband’s death or even pursue the other driver, who had crashed into her husband’s vehicle. The one who had been drunk and had run away from the scene, police and emergency respondents had informed her. Financial resources and Legal fees required to track and prosecute him was not something they could afford, right now. With 2 kids to take care of and another on the way, they needed an immediate source of income. Despite some savings in the bank, new funds would have to be arranged to cover immediate and future expenses – Food, Bills, School fees- the list was long she knew. Mrs. Verma became resolute. She did not have the luxury that time could offer. She had no time to cry – for herself, or for her kids. She had no time to come to terms with her loss, or that of her kids. She could not waste time thinking that their only daughter, who was yet to come into the world, would never know her father. She had more pressing matters at hand. She could no longer remain a stay-at-home mother. And Ravi too, had learnt some important lessons. Never to drink and drive, he had told himself.

Ravi had now become the……

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