He could never understand Mohan.
Nor could he agree with him.
Who can do that? Praveen wondered. Anyone, brought up with some values, brought up with love and concern for family ties, can never support what Mohan has been doing. Cheating his own kith and kin.
“It’s good that I am only his wife’s sister’s husband! Thank God I don’t have a brother like him!”
Praveen would shudder at the thought. “Don’t know why he behaves like this.”
Praveen himself had a brother, elder to him by five years. People used to say that one could never find two people so different from one other in looks or temperament. Yet there was warmth, a bonding between them that could never be broken. Even now, when their parents were no more, both of them were close buddies. In fact they wanted to live in the same house under the same roof. But they knew they were not single and that they had their wives to consider. They did the next best thing possible; converted their old home into two apartments. They could at least share the same roof, meet at evenings, wait for one another late into night and could sleep peacefully knowing that the other was safely in his bed.
Why couldn’t Mohan be like this? Praveen could never find an answer. Mohan also had brothers – not one but two. And both were quite caring, as far as Praveen could see.
Otherwise how could one explain their rushing to the hospital, from wherever they were, to take care of a sick Mohan? Mohan, who had refused to share their ancestral property equally, one who always selfishly tried to hoard everything to himself – he surely didn’t deserve such brothers; he was too self-centered.
And that too when his health was failing. That was what was worrying Praveen. Mohan had been a diabetic and now things had become worse. He was under dialysis; thrice a week. How could such a man still be selfish to the core?
“Why should you worry about all these things?” His wife would tease. “He is old enough.”
“It’s not like that, you know. With his state of health, anything can happen. It’s no use regretting.”
“But you know only too well how Jeejaji reacts to this topic.”
“Yes, I know. And that’s what worries me. Whenever I open this subject, he clams up.”
“Then leave it. Why should you worry?”
“I can’t and that’s my problem. If anything happens.”
“Don’t you worry, my dear. They are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves”.
Praveen could only sigh at times like this. He had always tried to talk some sense into Mohan, trying to make him see reason, hinting softly that he was doing wrong.
“Jeej, don’t get angry, OK? You let go of all these petty things. Give your brothers what is due to them. Then you also can have peace of mind.”
“Who says I don’t have it now?”
“I know you are indirectly asking me to mind my business. But with your health problem.”
There would be stony silence after this.
“Anything can happen, you know.”
“I know.”
Praveen would be stumped for an answer then. What could one say to such people?
“Can’t you please keep quiet about the whole affair? It’s their family matter.” His wife would try to console him.
“How can I? You know, anything can happen.”
“They will face it when that anything happens.”
Praveen could never understand why people placed money above everything else. It always pained him when people were so calculated, money-minded..
“Be careful while you are driving, OK? Don’t be thinking about this and that.”
Praveen smiled at his wife. He had to go to the bank, meet his clients, do shopping…
“Don’t worry, I will be careful.”
Still he couldn’t help thinking about Mohan. What type of a man was he? He had often wondered about Mohan. Why, that man, had he never felt even a prick of conscience? He doubted it. But, was he getting obsessed with this thing? I should stop thinking about all these things. Why should I worry unnecessarily till my head ached and I had a feeling all the blood was rushing to my head? Sure, he would be the death of me..
He struggled to get out of the car in front of the bank. The keys slipped from his hand. Something seemed to be terribly wrong. He could not breathe, it was as if someone were pressing him down, drawing him down under.
“I know the gentleman, Sir. Mr. Praveen. He suddenly collapsed. Poor man. Seems like a massive heart attack.” The bank’s security guard was still under shock.
“Poor Praveen….anything can happen,” Mohan muttered to himself, from his dialysis bed.
Dr M Lalitha- Has donned many roles – teacher, librarian, and now more into writing, editing manuscripts, translating and what not. Finds not much difference between pre and post retirement life. Is a regular contributor to many leading English newspapers.
THE BREW 