1. KARMA

‘It’s something I want, Rishaan,’ Kiara had said.

Rishaan had tried to reason. ‘Why do we need to adopt? We’re still young!’

‘Two miscarriages are telling us something, Rishaan,’ countered Kiara.

Kiara’s urgency was incomprehensible but familiar to Rishaan. She loved children and had wanted motherhood as soon as they had gotten married, much against his wishes. ‘We dated close to three years before we got married. I want to start a family as soon as we can,’ she had declared.

Though Rishaan had grudgingly agreed, fate had proposed otherwise. In their three years of marriage, Kiara had suffered two miscarriages. She was anaemic, and doctors had advised against conception any time soon. ‘You both are young. Give it a couple of years before trying again.’

And now, just a year later, she wanted to adopt.

Seeing Rishaan silent, Kiara was worried. He was given to sudden bouts of uncontrollable anger which subsided as soon and as inexplicably as they flared. Only once had he physically assaulted Kiara but when she had threatened to walk out, Rishaan had wept like a child and had fallen at her feet. He had been to anger management classes for the last six months and they seemed to have helped.

Kiara ventured, speaking softly, ‘She looks so vulnerable, so pretty. God knows who did this to her or what will she do and how she will fend for herself….’

‘What! You’ve already decided who we’re to adopt, and I don’t even know about it? You’d better tell me everything!’ Rishaan’s voice rose a few decibels.

Kiara had tears in her eyes. ‘The orphanage where I help out, had provided shelter to a very pretty child four years ago. She’s twelve now and paralysed waist-down owing to the accident. The visiting doctor feels that this can be corrected but she needs care....’

‘Wait, what do you mean? She was in an accident and lost her parents?’ interrupted Rishaan.

‘I wanted to break this news gently, Rishaan,’ said Kiara wringing her hands, aware that this would be difficult for her husband too. ‘She was a victim of the December ’92 riots which followed the demolition of the Babri Masjid. Yes, the same in which you lost your father. And Rishaan, she…she was in Ayodhya as well. Someone left her here in Lucknow that night.’

Rishaan tried to control his agitation as the memories of that event wrenched his heart. He remembered that night when he was woken up at his college hostel in Lucknow by the police. He had rushed to Ayodhya and found that the rioters had brutally killed his father. His mother and sister had thankfully left earlier but his father had stayed back to gather a few of the family’s belongings.

Rishaan shut his eyes trying to block out the memories. It had been sheer madness that night. India had burned for many weeks thereafter in communal hate.

Finally, he opened his eyes. Kiara appeared agitated, deliberating as she spoke. ‘There’s another thing, Rishaan. The girl was found the morning after the terrible night of December 6^th in front of the agency in torn clothes…no, she was not assaulted. She suffered severe burn injuries; a burning beam in her house fell upon her and she was trapped. However, there was nothing else to identify her except for a piece of paper clutched in her palm in which there was a single word scrawled in Hindi―Diyanah.’

Rishaan looked at her blankly, unable to comprehend.

‘Diyanah in Urdu means “religion” and is a name of a girl child. Which means that…she’s possibly a Muslim.’

‘No!’ Rishaan’s voice rose. ‘We can’t have her! After what they did to my family!’

Kiara was shocked and itched to retaliate. However, she didn’t want to get side-tracked from the main issue. She controlled herself and continued speaking slowly, ‘Even Hindu rioters and miscreants ravaged Muslim homes, right? If the educated as us harbour such notions of hatred and religion, what will become of our secular country?’

‘Kiara, there will be other complications…they are different from us. Their adoption laws are also different. How will we explain to the society?’ Rishaan protested angrily.

‘When there’s a crisis, society shuns you. It’s the bond of your family that keeps you together.’ Kiara took a deep breath. ‘There are other issues as well; the minimum age difference between the child and the parents, the minimum age for the adoptive parents, the maximum age of the child being adopted and yes, the legal statutes. However, I’ve found that many provisions can be relaxed as she’s handicapped. I really don’t care whether she’s legally eligible for adoption, guardianship or foster care, but I want to give her a home and a family, Rishaan.’

‘You seem to have thought this all out and it is being presented to me as a fait accompli. However, I’m against this. With a name like…,’ Rishaan persisted.

‘Fine, Rishaan,’ Kiara cut him short. ‘In any event, we’ll need to process many documents for her identity. We can also include an affidavit to shorten her name to Diya. That’s Hindu enough. Yet, a change of name does not change her origin. We’ll have to accept her with that. Just meet her once, please?’

The next day, the couple walked into the office of the secretary of the adoption agency, Mrs Sarojini Shukla. Next to her, sat Diyanah. Her face though forlorn, was angelic, framed by long black curls of hair. Her eyes were soft brown. She smiled at Kiara but avoided looking at Rishaan.

An attendant came and led Diyanah away after a while. Although he knew she was disabled, Rishaan was shocked to see her on a wheelchair.

Welcoming them, Mrs Shukla said, ‘Mr Sehgal, Kiara must’ve told you the child’s story. She doesn’t speak much and totally clams up whenever her parents are discussed. She’s not comfortable with men. Perhaps it has to do with the trauma she has suffered. Often, she wakes up at night screaming and sweating profusely. Other than her physical reparation, she needs superior medical care, much better than what we can afford, to cure her mind and heal her heart.’ 

Rishaan looked uncertainly at Kiara who held his hand tightly under the table and simply said, ‘We would love to welcome Diyanah into our family.’

The legal process took well over six months before Diyanah, now Diya, ‘officially’ entered Kiara and Rishaan’s home and lives. Diya was clearly uncomfortable in the presence of Rishaan. Thus, much of the work fell on Kiara. A protracted rehabilitation programme for a year gave Diya the use of her legs and the parallel psychiatric treatment also seemed to be helping and she began to come out of her shell. Diya moved to a new school six months after she came into adoption and her teachers assured the parents that Diya needed minimal special care now.

Despite his initial resistance, Rishaan tried his best to befriend Diya and though she did smile and called him ‘Daddy’, she remained guarded. During some of the therapy sessions, Diya had revealed that she had witnessed a group of rioting men break into their house and kill her family. Doctors opined that this could explain her aversion to men. Diya gave no other clues. Kiara hoped that she would overcome the trauma in due time and embrace Rishaan wholeheartedly as her father. While he struggled to gain her acceptance, Kiara noted with some satisfaction that Rishaan in his new role of fatherhood had become mellower with very few bouts of sudden anger.

It was over two years that Diya had become family and Rishaan suggested that they take a vacation. They were all quite spent with the hectic schedules of multiple doctors, therapies, and tests over the last two years.

‘Our finances are in no shape to afford a grand holiday. However, my office has this lovely holiday home in Goa, so stay and meals are virtually free. We will need to spend only on our travel. Given the long rail journey, I recommend that we fly so that we can maximise our time in Goa. I also love the sea and knowing Diya’s love for the water, hope we can bond better as father and daughter.’

As part of her rehabilitation to gain strength in her feet, Diya had to spend much time paddling in the community pool and loved it there, under the watchful eyes of Kiara.

‘Air travel!’ clapped Diya, excited as a ten-year-old. She was a beautiful fifteen-year-old now.

The only private airline was Jet Airways, their flights often always full. A late-night Air India flight with two stopovers in Delhi and Mumbai was the only option, which would take fourteen hours to reach Goa. The saving grace was a four-hour stopover in Mumbai which would allow Kiara to meet her parents. Much to Rishaan’s relief, both his mother and Kiara’s parents had embraced Diya into their lives.

In the middle of the flight, Kiara woke up to go the washroom. When she returned, she was too lazy to push her way into the middle seat. And with Rishaan readily offering to shift seats, the seating arrangement changed. With twenty minutes remaining for the flight to land, a sleep starved Kiara took another power nap, this time holding Rishaan's right hand more firmly. Rishaan's other hand, though, nervously moved to touch Diya's. Diya flinched at the touch and pulled her hand away. But a defiant Rishaan twined his fingers in hers firmly and more reassuringly. Diya did not protest and allowed her hand to lie limp in Rishaan’s.

The ride to the holiday home in Colva from the airport took close to an hour and though it was a very pretty place and only two hundred metres from the beach, the family fell asleep exhausted, only to wake up for dinner.

Over dinner, they excitedly spoke of the plans for the next day, with Rishaan and Diya agreeing that they would like a full day at the beach and soak in the sea, before sightseeing. Rishaan joked with the ladies, careful however not to touch Diya again. It felt strange that after nearly three years, his daughter had not yet accepted him completely. He tried to push the thought out of his mind as it somehow angered him.

The next morning, when Kiara and Diya were frolicking on the beach and building sandcastles, Rishaan stripped down to his waist and swam into the sea. Soon he saw Diya hesitatingly first and then more confidently, follow him with long strokes. He paused to let her catch up.

Kiara watched them from the shore, happy to see the father-daughter bonding. She was hoping that this vacation would improve the equation between the two.

‘Careful, you guys!’ she laughed.

Just as Diya reached Rishaan, a giant wave knocked them over and carried them towards the shore. Being taller, Rishaan’s feet found the bottom first and he reached out to pull Diya. She was laughing and choking at the same time but as soon as she came close to him, she froze. She pulled away and quickly paddled back to the shore. There she sat like a statue staring out to the sea, neither speaking nor moving.

Both Rishaan and Kiara were nonplussed. Nothing they did, moved Diya. Dejected, they returned to the cottage. Diya followed silently at a distance. Then she went straight into her room and locked the door, refusing to even join her parents for lunch.

As the internet connectivity was abysmal at their lodge, Kiara asked Rishaan to visit the airlines office in Dabolim for a confirmation of their return tickets. There were only two airlines operating and tourist destinations were notorious for overbooking and then offloading passengers. ‘I will reach out to and try to calm down Diya,’ she promised.

Rishaan returned late in the evening and was surprised to see no lights in the cottage. In the front veranda, he could see the silhouette of Kiara sitting still.

‘What happened?’ he asked coming closer.

‘She was there that night, Rishaan,’ intoned Kiara through the darkness as if in a trance, barely acknowledging him. ‘When you and your friends brutally killed her father and raped her mother. She had seen your scar when her mother tore at your shirt to protect herself. When she saw it again this morning, she remembered everything. You were the hideous monster in her subconscious. That’s why despite all efforts she was never able to accept you. You and your friends had laughed as you set their house on fire. The burning ceiling beam fell and trapped her. She could not escape. Perhaps then she would not have been alive to tell the tale. You would have raped and killed her too.’

Kiara raised her head, ‘How many Muslims did you kill that night to avenge your Hindu father’s death, Rishaan, how many?’

Rishaan stood trembling, watching his life fall apart. ‘It was my anger which blinded me; I did not know what I was doing….’

‘We were in a relationship that time, Rishaan,’ said Kiara cutting him short. ‘We even got married a year later. You kept such a heinous secret from me? And you went about life and presented yourself in society as a responsible citizen? No punishment can be enough for the likes of you.’

‘It was only this once in my life, Kiara,’ pleaded Rishaan. ‘It was a terrible night and we all went crazy. I was a victim of mob frenzy. I’m a changed man now.’

‘Where is the repentance, Rishaan? You would have lived this charade all your life had Diya not come into it.’

Kiara stood up. Rishaan could now see that her bags were packed and near the door.

‘No please, Kiara, do not leave me, I will give myself up to the law, go to jail, do anything!’