The fumes from the incense sticks formed a myriad of shapes and merged into the morning air. The minute hand of the clock kissed twelve, and a gentle chime reverberated through the walls of the house - seven times. Faint sounds arose from the cleaning activities of the two servants.
Sunanda sat in her puja room with folded arms gazing at the idols , that stared back at her. They looked almost real, bathed in the glow from the faint light, that the flickering lamps scattered upon their marble faces.
She had been sitting there since 4 am , dripping wet initially; now just a little damp.
She kept repeating all the chants that she knew over and over again; gently throwing fragrant flowers at the feet of the idols.
Her legs screamed with pain, in proof of the two and hundred times she had circled the temple yard, the previous evening.
Unperturbed by it, she kept chanting. Her eyes were pale and sunken , her face gaunt and tired.
The prayer would go on for another two to three hours. The servants were accustomed to this routine of hers.
Ever since Dhruv went missing.
***************************
At the neighborhood park, Shekar was gasping for breath and sweating profusely. Gathering every ounce of the remnant energy he continued to run. As fast he could! As if somebody was chasing him!
He wanted to flee!Escape!From his own thoughts and fears. From horrifying images that formed in his mind.
From the feeling of guilt that clawed at him from inside.
At one point his body revolted and refused to move any further.
He collapsed on the grass, facing the ground and started crying. Uncontrollably.
The other people in the park did not stare at him in astonishment.Some just nodded their heads out of pity and understanding. They knew that this occured often.
Ever since Dhruv disappeared.
******************************
Eight months ago, on Dhruv's third birthday they had visited the Mahavishnu temple around 50 km from Bangalore, their city of residence. The child had been extremely amused at the little sights that met his eye and kept running around gleefully.
Sunanda and Shekar offered some special prayers and distributed food .
Suddenly it dawned on them that Dhruv was nowhere in sight.
Sunanda did not panic . This had happened before;he would hide somewhere just to freak her out and then peep out and break into a musical laughter.
That fateful day it did not happen that way.
For more than half a day, they searched every nook and corner of the place.
Dhruv never appeared. Thats when panic and terror engulfed them.
*********************************
The couple were affluent and police initially suspected it to be a case of kidnapping. Even after a whole week, no calls or threats were received and they ruled it out.
Special police teams searched all over the city. Shekar placed huge ads in almost all newspapers. He arranged for posters of the missing child to be stuck wherever possible. TV ads, Facebook , Emails - he left no stone unturned.
Sunanda was shattered and wrecked.She started all methods she knew and was advised, of pleasing the Gods, begging and pleading with them to show mercy and return her baby.
She stopped reading the newspaper. Every piece about crimes related to children, cut through her like iced blades.
Shekar immersed himself in the search for his son. He was haunted by his thoughts of what might have happened to his boy. With time he learnt to shut the images even before they formed in his mind.
***********************************
The police now had other things to look into. Like all unsolved 'missing' cases, Dhruv's case became a lost file in the police cupboards.
Friends and relatives tried their level best to help the couple to track their son.
None of their efforts had borne any fruit so far.There was absolutely no trace or even the slightest clue about the whereabouts of the missing child.
************************************
The wooden horse pranced and then started trotting, manouvered here and there by the tiny hands that held it.
The child kept looking at the door every now and then. It was time Pappu Mama came home.
"I wonder what Mama will bring today" the child thought.
Pappu Mama had gotten him the toy horse a month ago. Usually Mama brought rice but every now and then he would get him a toy.
Dhruv loved Pappu Mama. He played with him; took him on piggy back rides;tickled him and made him laugh.
But he called him Kishore . He did not know why.
*****************************
'Chanakya Detective Agency' was engraved in simple dark blue fonts on the wall behind the reception in that office.
The receptionist gave them a warm smile and asked them to be seated.
Sunanda mechanically turned the pages of a magazine on the coffee table with one hand, the other gripping Shekar's hands tightly.
"Mrs and Mr Shekar, you may go in now" the receptionist announced.
Sunanda got up with Shekar and was about to go in when something struck her on the inside.
A thought? A feeling? An instinct ? She did not know. She could not comprehend completely. It was hidden in the depths of her heart, somewhere between her conscious and unconscious minds. She sensed its presence and pressure but could not decipher what it was.
Inside the cabin, there was a young man probably in his early thirties.
"Please have a seat sir, madam" he addressed the couple. "My name is Deepak.I am extremely sorry about what you are going through. We will put our soul and heart into this case and will surely find your son, no matter where he is. I have received your email with his photograph" he said.
'Photograph'! 'PHOTOGRAPH' the words went charging like an arrow into Sunanda's mind and released the knot. As if a dam just burst , what had eluded her earlier gushed out with a tremendous force.
She ran out of the room and rushed to the coffee table. With trembling hands she grabbed the magazine and hastily turned the pages.
'Pick of the month - Ace photographer Sridhar Iyer and ten of his most recent photographs' the title ran in pale gold with around ten black and white pictures below.
"Shek...Shekar!" she yelled in a stuttering frenzy. "Shekar...see this,...Dhruv...My Dhruv...I know...Its Dhruv..Dhruv is alive" . Shekar came running to her side and grabbed the magazine from her.
The magazine blurred in his vision as his eyes welled up. The picture on the left bottom corner was that of a man. The child on his back was Dhruv, he was absolutely sure.
*************************************
The sun had just set in the small town of Jamunanagar.
Prithviraj was done for the day. His manual labor had yielded him plenty of rice and ten rupees.
He would buy the small car in the shop near the temple. Kishore would love it.
A week ago he had taken him for an outing. The little one had been seated on his shoulders and had shrieked with delight on seeing the car.
***********************************
Pappu Mama alias Prithviraj entered the hut with a bundle in his arms. 'Kishore' he called out in a gentle voice.
The child turned around, broke into a grin and moved towards him with outstretched hands.
Suddenly Prithviraj saw the child's expression becoming fearful and felt two strong arms on his shoulder.
He kicked the air and tried to free himself but his frail body was no match for the muscular men. A young couple rushed into the hut.
"Dhruv" the woman shrieked and ran to the child who had crouched in a corner with fear by now.
She took him in her arms and held him close. Dhruv struggled to release himself. Home had become a distant memory for the little mind.
There was something familiar about the hold, the touch, the embrace; About the sweet smell that seemed to come from her; About her voice; About the spark in her eyes.
A wave of recognition hit the child; His eyes grew wide and he uttered "Amma" . Sunanda broke into tears and held him tightly. From behind her back Dhruv watched Pappu Mama being taken away by the cops.
********************************
Sunanda and Shekar had left the place with Dhruv and the place had become silent after all the commotion.
Deepak was speaking to Ramkumar who lived a few yards away from the hut.
"He came here a couple of months ago, Sir. We have no idea where he is from. He was quite harmless, Sir and he loved the boy and always took good care of him.
He was pretty normal in his activities.
There was only one thing that was a little strange about him.
Every Thursday he would sit outside the hut during the late hours of night.
He would wail and cry and keep repeating 'Kishore...Radha...Train...Accident' again and again."
This post is part of the contest A picture can say a thousand words.. on WriteUpCafe.com