Last Words

“Something keeps me holding on to nothing.” - Haunted.

Ajabdeh hated hospitals. The smell, the sense of panic in the air, the people around, sickness, death and worse, her last memory of being in a hospital was losing her grandmother. As soon as she drove into the parking lot, Jalal jumped out and ran towards the emergency wing, without waiting for her. She parked the car in the designated spot and turned off the ignition. Then she stared at herself, looking rather sleepless, and stared in the rear-view mirror. Sighing heavily, she straightened her hair in a bun and opened the compartment to her left to take out a mask. She didn’t know how Rukaiya was and what made her do it. All she understood was that she had been a bad friend to the two people who had been nothing but kind and supportive to her. She let out a soft prayer as her eyes shone. All she wanted was for Rukaiya to be safe. 

Jalal ran through the corridor to find his parents sitting on a bench near one of the emergency rooms. Sultanam was leaning against his mother and sobbing. His mother looked broken. Jalal eyed his father. He had never seen the ever-smiling Humayun so grim. He managed to walk up to them, and as soon as he placed his hand over his mother’s shoulder, she whispered, “You are here.” Sultanam looked up at him as he approached her, and she immediately hugged him in tears.

“You know her so well, Jalal. You have always been close, right? Tell me why she did it? Was it because of me?”

“Noi.” Jalal shook his head, “Why will she…” he stopped. He couldn’t lie, not when Rukaiya was fighting for her life. Not when he knew he had not been there for her when she needed him the most.

“I don’t know. Lately, she had been keeping a lot to herself,” he said at last.

“The police are here.” Humayun’s voice sounded harsh. “They said they wanted to speak to you.”

“Me?” Jalal frowned a little as his father gestured at two constables standing in the distance with his father’s secretary. “I brought in Mr Chauhan to make sure that the news didn’t reach the media.” Jalal admired his father’s calmness in the situation. He couldn’t even think straight all the way to the hospital. Ajabdeh… He had forgotten all about her. He glanced over his shoulder to see her approaching in the mask, and he suddenly remembered how uncomfortable hospitals made her. Eyes met as she nodded reassuringly at him and held onto Sultanam's hand while he let go of her shoulders and approached the police.

“You are Jalal?” The Policeman’s words made him frown slightly as he addressed him by his pet name. He nodded cluelessly as the policemen eyed each other. “What is your relationship with the victim?”

“She is… my cousin… why?” He asked with a frown. Distant didn’t seem like a word then.

“Her suicide note was addressed to you.” Jalal’s heart skipped a beat as his throat went dry. 

“What?” He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Like something was choking his windpipe and suffocating his chest. The Policeman nodded, showing him a letter, wrapped in a plastic zip-lock bag.

“Can I…” He extended his hand as the policeman shook his head. “I am sorry, this is now evidence.”

“Evidence for what?” he frowned. “She is dying…” His voice choked as the Policeman looked firm.

“Look, I know this is a difficult situation for your family, but we have to do our jobs. You need to answer some questions.” Jalal nodded, composing himself by closing his eyes and breathing in. 

“What do you think the letter is about?” He frowned at the policeman’s words. It occurred to him that whatever the reason was for Rukaiya to take such a drastic step, he was the last person she wanted to talk to before ending her life. It haunted Jalal as he wondered about the contents of the letter.

“I have no idea, I mean, I haven’t spoken to her in the past week since…” He stopped. Mentioning the wedding could also draw attention to his equation with Ajabdeh. He didn’t want to drag her into it. “I was at a friend’s wedding.'' He filtered his thoughts, making sure he wasn’t lying. The man nodded.

“And what do you think made her take this step?” The man asked. Jalal shook his head. “I don’t know, sir. I mean, she looked happy, she said she was making friends, had an internship…” he stopped and gulped. “But she was a bit disturbed when some matrimonial alliances didn’t work out… they rejected her.”

“Why did they reject her?” The Policeman spoke as he shrugged. “Did she have an affair? Perhaps she did something illicit…”

“What are you implying?” Jalal stopped the man with a disapproving tone. “You are victim-shaming her.”

“I am doing my job.”

“It is not your job to judge her.” Jalal was interrupted by his father’s secretary before the argument got heated in the public eye.

“He will not be answering any more questions.” The secretary spoke to the policeman. “And as for the investigation…” he took the man aside. Jalal’s jaws tightened as he realised their family name and reputation were perhaps greater than the life of a distant relative. There will be no case of whether Rukaiya lived or died.

“One last question.” The constable quipped down his neck, “Did you know she was seeing a psychologist or counsellor?”

“What?” Jalal stood at his spot, frozen as a thousand questions ran through his mind. Rukaiya never told him… she told him everything… His attention was diverted to the door of the emergency room opening as the doctor walked out, and he rushed to be with his family.

“We have pumped the pills out and also given her medication. But she isn’t entirely out of danger. Her blood pressure is fluctuating and, in such cases, there is a risk of effect on the heart,” he said to Humayun, “But she will hopefully regain her consciousness in the next few hours, and then you can see her.”

“Can I be here for the night?” Sultanam asked as the doctor nodded, “We allow only one person, though.”

“I will stay in the waiting area in case Aunty needs something.” It was Ajabdeh who offered her help as Hamida nodded with thanks.

“Jalal, take your parents home. They have suffered a lot of humiliation because of me and my daughter.” Sultanam sobbed as Humayun protested. “She is our daughter too.” Jalal looked like he had phased out of the conversation as something dawned on him. The investigation was over, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t look into her room.

“I will take you two home.” Jalal agreed.

Shakti was at the reception asking about Rukaiya when Pratap’s eyes travelled to the waiting area, where a few people had taken up seats to sleep for the night. Except her. She had removed her shoes and had her feet up on the seat, hugging her knees because the air conditioner made her feel cold, and she still wore the mask. Pratap could sense her uneasiness from a distance. He tapped at his brother’s shoulder and gestured at her. Ajabdeh heard Shakti’s voice calling her name, and she immediately looked up to find him walking towards her. All this while she had tried to be strong because she had seen how broken the family was. But a thousand thoughts ran through her mind, and she ended up questioning everything she thought she knew about Rukaiya. What could make someone take such a drastic step? The moment she saw Shakti, she felt overwhelmed. As Shakti reached her, she got up and hugged him. Pratap froze in his spot, seeing her in tears. The last time he had seen her in tears was the day at Sarangpura. 

“What happened? Is she alright?” Shakti asked, a little pale and scared.

Ajabdeh managed to nod. “She is under observation.” She said in between her sobs. Pratap heaved a sigh of relief. Shakti excused himself to bring her a bottle of water as she sank back into her seat and put her hand over her face. Pratap stood silently for a moment as her hair locks fell over her face and cleared his throat. “Where is Jalal?” He managed as she looked up at him, and their eyes met. Did it feel like years had passed since they had spoken? Did they imagine meeting under such situations? “He has gone home with his parents. He will be back in the morning.” She said monotonously, wiping her tears from her cheeks. Pratap sighed. A moment of silence followed as Shakti offered her a bottle of water, and she removed her mask. Pratap observed her gulp down the water with great difficulty. He knew she was bottling up her feelings in an urge to be in control. She looked drained and pale. Shakti reassured her by patting her shoulders. Pratap suddenly realised Ajabdeh still had Shakti around, but Jalal? He knew they were close. Rukaiya’s step must have shocked him. He wanted to be there for Jalal.

“I think I should visit Jalal, Shakti; you stay here.” Pratap addressed his brother, who nodded. His eyes travelled to Ajabdeh, who was putting her mask back on as she nodded at him as if to agree to his idea. He turned and left.

Jalal sat down in Rukaiya’s room, which he had left in a mess, with a diary in his hand. It was dated a year earlier, and he turned the leaf to find the first page.

“I have been told to maintain the diary by my therapist.” He frowned at his cluelessness as he went through the pages. With each page, he could sense her insecurities, her fears, and what she was going through, silently and alone.

“I wanted to reach out to Jalal. He is the only person who calms me. But I know he is happy in his life. My life is not worth ruining his happiness over.” Jalal tightened his jaw. “No No No.” He shook his head. Had he been so selfish that he didn’t see her distress and made it impossible for her to reach out to him? Was he so engrossed in Ajabdeh?

“What are you doing?” he looked up at the threshold to find his father in his night suit looking at him disapprovingly “Did you ransack her room?”

“Baba, she was seeing a therapist… she was…” Jalal managed as he stood up from the edge of the chair he sat on. Humayun nodded.

“I know that. The police told me. But this is… You shouldn’t get involved.”

“Baba, she was alone. She wanted to reach out to me, and she couldn’t because I was not there.” Jalal seemed to hurt as Humayun looked up at his son calmly. 

“Did the letter say that?” he inquired. Jalal shook his head. “They didn’t say.”

“Then how do you…” Jalal raised the diary he held in his hand. “Baba, I … feel responsible.” Humayun shook his head and approached his son as Jalal sank back in his chair. 

“No, my child,” Humayun said, reassuring him by patting his shoulder. “We are all responsible.” His voice trembled as Jalal looked up at his father. It was then that the servant walked in to inform Pratap was there to see him. 

When Pratap entered Rukaiya’s room, he was unsure and uncomfortable with the eerie silence of the room. The first thing that attracted his attention was the pictures on her desk. Of the family. She and Jalal. Shakti, Rukaiya and Ajabdeh at some concerts. She looked so happy; who could say what went on in people’s minds? He cleared his throat as Jalal looked up at him.

“You didn’t need to come by at this hour.” He managed politely.

“Are you kidding me?” Pratap frowned “You are my best friend. Where else should I be when you need me?” Jalal looked up at his words and got up to hug him. He didn’t remember the last time he had hugged Pratap or even told him that he missed their old bond.

“She will be fine.” Pratap patted his back and spoke. “Do you want help around here?” He looked around at the mess in the room. “She wouldn’t like the mess when she comes home.” Jalal nodded with a faint smile. Pratap spent the night putting things back in place while Jalal read through Rukaiya’s journals. By dawn, Jalal made up his mind. He was going to prioritise what mattered and speak his truth. He remembered how Ajabdeh called him a coward for not owning up to his truth. Not anymore. As the birds chirped and Pratap sat down exhausted on the bed, Jalal glanced over his shoulder at him, closing the last journal. “We need to reach the hospital and relieve Sultanam Phuphi and… Ajabdeh…” He sighed as he stopped a yawn. “She isn’t comfortable in hospitals.”

“Shakti is there with her,” Pratap reassured. “I will go get some changes for both of us and breakfast to go.” Jalal nodded, “There is one last thing I need to do before we go.”