I couldn’t go to work. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t know how to face my children. They were around Amar’s age and they were healthy because I hadn’t left Indu in the railway station on the night of the Bhopal gas tragedy.I had gone to Anju’s house to find out about Amar and compare her husband to me. Compare? I was almost a murderer—there was no comparison.I drove aimlessly around Ooty, going through narrow roads in between valleys and curvaceous roads around hills. I saw through the waterfalls, ignored traffic lights, and stayed out until late in the night.Finally, tired of the day and my own company, I drove home.Indu was waiting for me in the drawing room, wearing a “party” sari and jewelry.“Well, at least you are home now,” she jibed. “I had to go alone to Brigadier Pradhan’s daughter’s engagement party and answer questions about you.”I ignored her. I had other things on my mind. I had Anju on my mind.But Indu was my wife. She needed to know the truth.
