Chapter 11 #4
‘There was the tumour and the chemo and then complications due to side effects,’ Sampath continued, speaking partly to her, partly to the darkness outside.
‘It was long and painful and ugly. She liked your books. Loved them, even. We got her audiobooks, but she wanted us to read to her. So we did, me, my parents and my brother-in-law. We took turns. Sometimes the other patients would come to sit and listen. For hours.’ The pain in his voice was obvious now.
‘She would escape into your stories. Despite the pain and the fear and cold, for minutes at a time, she had joy. And joy is so important.’ He turned, finally, his eyes full of tears.
‘In this life, if there isn’t joy, what even is the point? ’
She didn’t know what to say. Her own eyes teared up in response.
Sampath’s eyes met hers. ‘Your words helped my family live through the worst months of our lives. You have a gift, Kalpana. Don’t let that go just because some entitled dickhead thinks that joy is somehow inferior to suffering.’
He sniffed, flicked a hand over his tear-streaked face and marched away, out of the room.
Kalpana stared after him, not sure what to do. He was clearly still grieving his sister. Going after him probably wasn’t the best idea. He would need time alone to process this grief.
She turned away, thinking about what he’d just said about her books.
She had glimpsed some of what he said in reviews, but no one had ever stated it so baldly before.
She had seen the wretchedness and pain in Sampath’s expression.
When he said her words had got him through the worst time of his life, she believed him.
The idea that her words could move someone, could help someone find moments of joy amidst the horror of terminal illness, blew her mind. She’d always hoped they could, but never really believed it was true. Until now. Now, she felt it down to her bones.
Footsteps sounded overhead. ‘Kalpana?’ Marcus came down the stairs. ‘Is everything okay?’
She turned to look up at him and realised that she had tears on her cheeks. She had raised her hand to her chest.
‘Babe, what’s wrong?’ He wiped the tears away with his thumbs. ‘What did Sampath say to you?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not him,’ she said. ‘I think … I think I’ve just realised why I write.’
***
Sampath marched into his bedroom and crashed onto the bed.
Tears were running down his face now and he was powerless to stop them.
Grief, raw and painful as the day Lihini died, tore at him.
Someone had told him that grief was love that had nowhere to go.
There was no fighting it. He had loved his sister.
Now that love had nothing to do but flow down his face and drip off his chin.
He kicked off his sandals, curled up into a ball and let it drown him.
The worst of it had passed when Lal found him. ‘Aiya, what’s wrong?’ There was panic in his voice.
‘I’m okay,’ Sampath said into the hollow of his body. ‘I just … it happens sometimes.’
‘What happens? Are you ill?’ The younger man sat on the bed next to him.
Sampath took a long, shaky breath and raised his head. Lihini was gone, but he was still here. ‘I … My sister died. Two years ago. And the conversation reminded me of her. Sometimes it’s hard to … hard to deal with that. But I’m okay now.’
‘Aney, that’s sad.’ Lal reached out tentatively and rubbed his shoulder. ‘Is there anything I can do? Would it help to talk about her?’
Sampath sat up properly now and rubbed his face with his hands. ‘No. No. I’m okay.’ He shouldn’t be doing this now. He shouldn’t be losing his cool like that. He was working. He groaned. ‘Oh my god. I messed up. I’ll have to apologise to Kalpana.’
‘What did you do?’ Lal’s eyes were huge.
‘I might have called Marcus an entitled dickhead.’ That was very unprofessional of him. He was definitely going to have to grovel.
Lal raised his eyebrows. ‘You said that to his face?’
‘No. Of course not. I said it to Kalpana.’ He groaned again. ‘I can’t call the groom names in front of the bride. I am so dead.’
Lal looked over his shoulder, dropped his voice and said, in Sinhala, ‘But it’s true. He is.’
‘Yes, but I’m not supposed to say that. He’s the client. There are rules.’ Should he go back there and apologise tonight? No. No. ‘It’s better if I leave it until tomorrow now, right?’
Lal shrugged. ‘Probably.’ He clicked his fingers.
‘What I came looking for you to say was that I found a carrom board. I was wondering if you fancied some beer on the front veranda. Away from the guests. We can take the carrom board through and have a game.’ He studied Sampath’s face.
‘I think you look like you could do with a beer.’
Sampath considered it. He felt absolutely exhausted now. A beer would be nice. ‘I haven’t played carrom in years,’ he said. ‘But what if you have to drive?’
‘I don’t think anyone will need that tonight, but I’ll stick to one, just in case.’
He nodded. ‘In that case, carrom and beer sound like an excellent idea.’